Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 Page 8

  “Honey,” said Kevin. “What photos?”

  “I’ll see you in hell,” said Elsie.

  “Your loss,” said Zack. “But you should know Mr. Dudley Do-right is a cheater.”

  “Excuse me?” Elsie and Kevin said at the same time.

  “Yeah,” Zack puffed his chest up. “You should see the bridal suite. He had some skanks over last night. Wow, I heard the bed shaking until the wee hours of the morning. Woo-wee!”

  “Kevin!” Elsie pulled away her hand and backed up as if she had found a snake. “How— How could you?”

  “It’s a lie,” said Kevin.

  Elsie pushed him. Hard. Towards the edge of the bluff. Blood pumped through her head, making her feel light and woozy. And angry as hell.

  “Well, later assholes,” said Zack, holding the paper bag up for everyone to see. “Love you, Elsie.”

  He jogged away back down the trail.

  Elsie pushed Kevin again. Closer to the edge.

  “How could you!” she shouted. Elsie just wished she could come up with something better to say, but deep, hot-boiled anger kept her from thinking right.

  Mom touched on the shoulder. “Elsie, dear.”

  Elsie pulled away. Her vision narrowed to a tunnel. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. She felt almost almost out of body, as if staring down from above the treetops.

  She felt out of control.

  Kevin was so close to the edge, his face so nervous and scared. Just a step closer. She didn’t even have to touch him again.

  Kevin slipped off the edge.

  And fell feet first.

  He grabbed onto the rocky edge with his fingers.

  “Elsie,” he said. “Help!”

  “We were almost married!” Elsie said. “And you cheated!”

  Feeling oddly like a Vaudeville villain but with anger issues, she stepped on his fingers.

  “How dare you!” she yelled.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kevin hadn’t realized how close to the edge he was. How close Elsie had pushed him.

  Her face contorted and pinched, hell-bent angry. She was red as a lobster.

  He tried telling her, calmly as possible, that Zack had lied. The back of Kevin’s neck felt hot and sticky. His armpits felt glued to his shirt.

  Elsie took more step towards him.

  He took a step back.

  And then slipped.

  Loose rocks and crunchy gravel fell underneath his foot.

  The fall almost certainly bruised his stomach. His ribcage hurt bad. Probably not broken, but the pain stung fierce. His heart raced up his throat, making him want to vomit. He dared not look down. The sheer nothingness under his feet gave him enough vertigo.

  Somehow he had grabbed on the ledge. And Elsie stepped her clunky wedge sandals on his fingers.

  “Elsie!” Kevin said, panic quavering on the surface like a shark fin above the waves. “Baby, listen! He lied!”

  “How could you!” she yelled, grinding her toe on his fingers. Pain shot threw every nerve in his hand, all the way up his elbow. He gritted his teeth, tasting loose sand and dirt.

  Kevin dug his feet onto the rock, trying to find something to step onto. Unlike a rock climbing wall, the ledge of Mendota Bluff was smooth with no hand-holds he could find. And his shoes had no traction on the bottom.

  Every muscle in his body strained and burned. He wasn’t going to last long.

  “Elsie, please help me! I love only you!”

  “Did you say that to those floozies last night? Huh?” Elsie grinded her foot on his other hand.

  Gertrude, worry mixed with grim determination on her face, put a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. Elsie pulled away.

  And then spat.

  Her loogie landed square in Kevin’s right eye. Half his vision gone and blurry with warm spit, Kevin kept staring at her. Part disbelief, part utter terror.

  “Elsie!” yelled Gertrude.

  So this was how it ended? Being pushed off a cliff by the woman he loved? Sure, he knew all along Elsie had anger management issues. And she wasn’t a saint by any means. Why the hell did Kevin want to marry her anyway?

  Looking up at Elsie—long denim clad legs, bare tanned arms, black hair blowing in the wind—Kevin imagined her as the angel of death. The last woman most guys ever wanted to see.

  And he was in love.

  Not despite her ferocious temper and scary fighting spirit. Rather, because of it. What other woman could live with a spy, but another spy?

  Then he thought about the last time they made love, in Elsie’s mother’s basement just a short time ago. Why couldn’t it have been somewhere nicer?

  Like the bridal suite?

  “Elsie!” Gertrude yelled again.

  Kevin dug his fingernails in the rock and squeezed, lifting himself up. His arms ached too much. Acid was building up in his muscles. His hands wanted to let go, relax. Kevin fought with all his strength to hang on.

  Mouth a thin cruel thin line, Elsie stomped on his fingers, hard. It felt as if every bone in his hand snapped, crackled, and popped. Sharp pain shot up his arm.

  “Elisa Patricia Turner!” Gertrude pinched Elsie on the shoulder.

  Elsie half turned. “Mom?”

  “I was at the bridal suite earlier today,” said Gertrude. “The room was a mess. But no floozies.”

  “What?” The vinegar gone from Elsie’s voice. “Really?”

  “Yes, honey. Kevin is a good man.”

  “But…”

  Kevin grunted, redoubling his effort to hang on for life. He hung by the fingernails, if the wind blew the wrong way and unbalanced him anymore…

  “Elsie,” he said. “Who do you trust? Me? Or Zack?”

  Her face slackened, shoulders slumped, Elsie put a hand to her mouth. Calm realization settled on her brow, as if a lightbulb got turned on over her head. Kevin and Elsie shared a long look that only lasted a half second.

  He was half blind and fighting the urge to wipe the spit out of his eye.

  She narrowed her eyes to slits, fire lighting her face.

  After that long half second, Elsie squatted down and clutched Kevin by the wrist with her sweat soaked hands.

  “Baby,” she said. “I got you.”

  “Don’t let go,” said Kevin.

  “I won’t.” Elsie pulled, the veins in her neck throbbing with the strain.

  Gertrude knelt down, too, and grabbed his other wrist. Molly joined in, on the other side of Elsie, pulling.

  Kevin kicked and grunted his way up. All three women heaved, lifting him inch by inch.

  Nikolai laid a big, sweaty hand on the Kevin’s collar. Like picking up a kitten by the scruff of the neck, Nikolai sighed and lifted.

  Kevin moaned in relief when his knees scraped against the rough, rocky upside of the bluff.

  He landed in Elsie’s arms. She pulled him close, wrapped him tight against her bosom, wiping away her spit with a thumb.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, on the edge of sobbing, patting one hand on his hair. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”

  “You’re—“ said Kevin. “Stop… choking… me…”

  Elsie let go and held him at arm’s length. “Oh. Sorry about that, too.”

  “You can also stop apologizing,” he said. He pressed a finger to her mouth while he caught his breath. “Seriously. I can’t explain it.”

  “Me either,” Elsie said. “Wait? What?”

  “You almost killed me. I should be angry about that. But I’m not.”

  Elsie laughed, a nervous jitter shaking her body, and pulled away from him. She pressed her hands against her eyes, trying and failing to stop the water works.

  “But why? I’m a psycho. And you’re a nice guy who used to sell puppy chow recipes.”

  “I know. But that’s not what—“

  Elsie stood up, hands out as if to keep pushing Kevin away. “I don’t deserve you. You deserve a girl who won’t axe murder you in your sleep.”

  K
evin stayed on his knees and crawled to Elsie. He took her by the hands.

  “But that’s where you’re wrong,” he said.

  “Or blow your head off with a shotgun if you come home five hours too late.”

  “Umm, Elsie…”

  “Or push you off a cliff. Oh God! Kevin!” Elsie snapped her hands away and hugged herself, crying and rocking on her heels.

  Kevin got off his knees. He grabbed her by the shoulders, a bit too rough, but he didn’t care anymore. He only cared about one thing.

  He shook her. When she didn’t stop crying, he dug his fingernails in her skin and shook her again like a rag-doll. Elsie’s hair hung over her face, partially hiding her. Kevin swept her hair aside, and held her head.

  “I put my life at risk every time I go on a mission to steal corporate secrets on Wall Street. I’m not dodging bullets or escaping bombs, but it’s a short life nonetheless.”

  “I know,” said Elsie, sniffling. “That’s why you deserve a nice, normal Suzy Homemaker type.”

  “You’re wrong,” Kevin said, jabbing a finger at her chest. “I’d get bored with a woman who doesn’t own an axe and a shotgun.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really. We can get couples’ counseling. We can take quiet vacations. I don’t care. But I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, sweetheart.”

  Elsie smiled, showing her pearly white teeth, face radiating from forehead to neck. “I want to spend my life with you, too.”

  Kevin got down on one knee. He took one of her hands in his.

  “Will you still marry me, Elsie?”

  “I do. I love you!”

  He stood up, and swept her in his arms, kissing her. The moment was sweet and tender, and Kevin wanted it to last forever.

  Molly Biggins cleared her throat.

  “Sweet of you two to figure out your problems,” she said. “Do I need remind you of your other problems?”

  The blood drained from Kevin’s upper body, leaving him numb despite the euphoria he was feeling. His past was past, at least he won Elsie.

  Elsie stepped in front of him, putting herself between him and Biggins.

  “I know where Zack is staying,” Elsie said. “If I lead you to him, will forgive Kevin’s debt?”

  Biggins chuckled. “Darling, I appreciate what you’re doing. You’ll be a fine wife for this man. But it’s not that simple.”

  Kevin grabbed Elsie by the elbow. “Sweetie, it’s okay. Not your problem.”

  She tugged away her arm. “Molly. You’re a dominate lady, right?”

  A wicked, serpentine smile glowed on Biggins’ face. “I’ve demonstrated this already.”

  Gertrude groaned, but crossed her arms and said nothing.

  Elsie smirked. “I know Zack’s personal weakness. Do you want to know?”

  Biggins gasped, and clutched her hands in front of her. “Well, perhaps.”

  “Forgive Kevin’s debt, and I’ll give you Zack’s kryptonite.”

  “You push a hard bargain. Very well. But know this, if you disappoint me, I will make both your lives hard.”

  Elsie grabbed Biggins by the waist and leaned up to the tall blond woman. Biggins slouched down, putting her ear to Elsie’s mouth. The serpentine smile grew wider.

  Biggins kissed Elsie on the cheek.

  “Well, well,” said the Russian. “Nikolai, we have a long night ahead of us.”

  The big guy grunted, and shrugged his shoulders.

  “Glad you like this,” said Elsie. “I have a plan.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elsie knocked on room 312. To her right was Kevin—now dressed in a clean white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans—along with Mom and Brad, Kevin’s best man. To her left was Molly, rubbing her hands like a praying mantis, and Nikolai, who held a green carpetbag and a video camera with a tripod.

  She knocked again.

  “Zaa-ack,” she cooed. “It’s me, Elsie. I’ve changed my mind. About us. Want to open up?”

  She heard the bolt chain rattle on the other side, and the door open. Zack was in a pair of red-and-white striped boxer shorts and no shirt. He had a cute patch of chest hair that must have been trimmed, because it seemed to sweep down his stomach and pointed to his waist line.

  “Hey doll,” he said. “I knew you’d come around.”

  “May I come in?” Elsie said, tossing her hair to one side.

  “Into my waiting arms, honey.” Zack held out his arms, and made a smooching noise with his lips.

  “Good.” Elsie stepped into his embrace, her hands on his shoulders. Zack brought her in, arms around her waist. He massaged the small of her back.

  Elsie leaned into Zack.

  And squeezed his shoulder blades.

  And then kneed him in the junk.

  Hard.

  Elsie’s knee and thigh hurt, but in a satisfying way that made her smile.

  Zack hunched over, groaning in falsetto with both hands cupped over the family jewels. She snatched him by the ear and dragged him deeper into his room.

  He had a nice, cozy room with a king sized bed, a minibar with a fridge, and a widescreen TV that was currently playing a lesbian porno on mute.

  Elsie wrangled him onto the bed. “Okay guys,” she said. “Get in here!”

  Kevin, Brad, Mom, Molly Biggins, and Nikolai crowded in. The place seemed awfully crowded suddenly. Kevin slammed the door shut, and clicked the chain in place. Molly yanked the window curtains closed.

  “What the fuck?” Zack said. “Els, baby, if you wanted a gangbang, I could hook you up. Leave these creeps home next time!”

  “Oh no, Zacky-poo,” said Elsie. “It’s time to get even.”

  “What do you mean, baby? I’ve always treated you with respect.”

  Nikolai tossed the carpetbag on the bed, and pulled out a long loop of silk rope.

  Zack’s eyes got round and huge right as the big Russian man grabbed him and hog-tied him.

  “Well,” said Elsie. “Zack, baby, I’d like to repay you. Honestly.”

  “This isn’t right!” Zack squealed. “Damn you, bitch!”

  “Aww,” Elsie cupped his cheek, and lightly slapped him twice with her palm and backhand. “You’re so cute!”

  “This isn’t over!” he yelled.

  Molly Biggins grabbed him by back of the hair. She leaned into his ear, and said, “You’re right, it’s not.”

  Zack squirmed, trying to get away. But the knots Nikolai had made were too strong. Zack flopped around, like a fish out of water and made a break for the door.

  He didn’t get far.

  Nikolai tackled him and threw him back on the bed. Then proceeded to tie Zack’s right lower leg to his upper leg, and repeated the same with his left leg.

  Elsie smirked, satisfied the king of douchebags wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

  “First order of business,” she said. “Where is my gun?”

  “Top left drawer, under the TV,” said Zack. “Let me go now?”

  Elsie opened the drawer, and sure enough was the Smith and Wessen 9mm.

  “Come to mommy,” said Elsie, cuddling the pistol in both hands and kissing it. “Did you miss me, too?”

  “Fine, fine,” Zack said, struggling and squirming against his bonds. “I’ll give you a big kiss if you loosen me up.”

  Elsie pointed her precious gun at Zack’s head. “Give me a reason not to shoot you, asshole.”

  Kevin clasped his hand on her wrist. “Honey, we agreed. No bloodshed before the wedding.”

  Elsie groaned. “Okay. But can I shoot his cell phone?”

  Brad held up both hands and tip-toed to the nightstand, where Zack’s phone was laying. “Wait, wait. That’s what you brought me for, remember?”

  “Don’t look at those photos,” said Elsie, with a playful smirk and a wink. She hoped Brad saw the wink. “Hate to shoot the best man.”

  He chuckled nervously as he played with the phone. “First, delete all the
data. And then reset the system. And now…” Brad wiggled his fingers. “Abracadabra, I’ve locked him out of his own phone. The photos are not only gone, he won’t be taking more anytime soon.”

  “Aww man,” said Zack. “You’re a grade A douche, man.”

  “Thank you, Brad,” Elsie said, putting her gun back in the holster it belonged to. “My last order of business is the black book.”

  Mom groaned, crossing her arms.

  Zack laughed. “You know what’s in the mysterious black book? Not what I expected, but hey, I had a little fun.”

  “Just tell me where it is,” Elsie said.

  “Can’t I make a photocopy of it first?”

  Mom slapped him across the face, hard enough to leave a handprint. “If the children weren’t around,” she said, “I’d kill you myself.”

  “Mother!” Elsie said. “He’s an douchebag, but… Ah, never mind. Slap him again.”

  She did. The hit rang and echoed in the small hotel room.

  “In the upper right drawer,” mumbled Zack.

  Elsie looked. Sure enough, sitting on top was a black, leather-bound book.

  The cover had a title imprinted in gold-leaf lettering: Molly’s & Gertie’s Black Book of Adventures.

  “Wait,” Elsie picked up the book.

  “No, honey,” Mom said. “Don’t!”

  Too late. Curiosity and dread beat out common sense and curtesy. Elsie opened the black book to a random page. On each page were full-color photographs of Molly Biggins and Mom naked, in tantric poses.

  “Oh,” said Elsie. “Oh.”

  “Umm, oh,” Kevin stuttered something non-sense. He grabbed the book out of Elsie’s hands and slammed it shut. He handed it to Mom. “Guess this is yours, Mrs. Turner.”

  “Thanks, dear,” Mom said, clutching the book to her chest. “And call me Gertrude, okay?”

  “Your mother and I have a history together,” said Biggins, a warm crooked smile breaking her icy countenance. “Going back to the mid-90s. God those were good years, da?”

  “Yes, they were,” Mom said, wistfully, wiping a tear from her eye. “We self-published this book. Cost a small fortune in those days.”

  “Da, but brings back some great memories.”

  “Mom,” Elsie said. “Are you both crying?”