Resist (Songs of Submission #6)(32)
Author: C.D. Reiss

“…and they all play country music,” she said.

I’d missed something, and I didn’t care. I’d never actually needed to care before, but that had changed. The woman in a blue dress was a nice person, by all accounts, but I had no interest in sleeping with her.

I couldn’t hear my phone over the music, but I felt it buzz in my pocket. My first thought was the memory of Monica’s song, but I’d blocked her. There would be no more songs. It was Eddie.

—Cancel Thursday night. I have to go to the Collectors thing. You going?—

“Hang on a second,” I said. “Let me take this.” The woman in the blue dress nodded. She wasn’t boring or easy. She was fine, but she wasn’t a goddess.

—Nope—

—Ok. Monica said you weren’t going. Just checking.—

I dialed his number and walked to the hall with my finger pressing my free ear closed. “What does Monica have to do with it?”

“Carnival is sending her with me. Why? You don’t trust me?”

“No, I don’t. You’re a lousy driver.”

“She’s driving herself. See, I knew you’d flip out.”

“I’m not flipping out.”

“You are flipping out,” he said. I got into the elevator. “It’s business. I’m not touching her, okay? Harry would have my ass, and God only knows you’d bean me in my sleep or something.”

“I apologized.”

“Whatever. I knew I had to explicitly say something, and that’s what I’m doing. Don’t flip out.”

“Okay, Ed,” I said as I walked into the hotel lobby. Michelle, the rooms manager, tried to stop me with something I was sure I didn’t care about. I waved her off and headed for the exit. It was pouring rain, and I had no umbrella.

I was flipping out.

Chapter 32.

MONICA

Darren waved from the Frontage bar. It was crowded. I did some meet and greet before I made my way to him and Adam.

“Thank you,” I said when he handed me the keys to my Honda. When Jonathan had said he’d replaced the starter, he obviously meant “with a new car” because the Honda had still been missing a piece.

“Came to three-twenty-five,” he said.

“I’ll have it for you tomorrow.”

“Damn right you will. Because you owe him.” He indicated Adam, who put his arm around my waist.

“I’m taking it out in kisses.” He planted his mouth on my cheek, and I squealed. He held me harder and I laughed louder, playfully punching his shoulder and forgetting Jonathan for half a second. Adam was a good guy. I owed him and Darren for towing my Honda from the Stock parking lot to a repair shop, paying for the work, and driving it to me. Kisses and a few hundred bucks were the least I could do.

“It’s in the lot,” Darren said once Adam let me go before I got cooties.

“Where are you guys off to?”

“Loft party at the Family Four. You coming? Dizzy Roth wanted to talk about the B.C. Mod piece.”

That sounded like the best offer I would get. “I’ll meet you there.”

Chapter 33.

JONATHAN

I’d tried to let the world spin on its usual course for two days. I tried to see what would happen if I just worked, stared at the ceiling, and avoided Monica. I didn’t ask Eddie if he was really going with her, and I didn’t ask Margie about Dad’s attendance. That lasted twenty-four hours. I found myself in the pouring rain at Frontage, watching at her through the window.

She was smiling. Darren was there, but he didn’t concern me. The other guy kissed her cheek, and she laughed. I stepped out from the bus shelter, into the rain. He touched her waist, and she permitted it.

I don’t know what brought the clarity. It could have been the kiss. It could have been the touching. But the laughter put me over the edge. Seeing her with her friends, as free of me as I’d made her, without all the destruction I’d brought. Happy, while I could barely have a straight thought without her voice invading.

I had wanted to talk to her. That was it. Just tell her I didn’t want her to go to the Collector’s Board thing because my father would be there, and I simply didn’t want her near him. I was soaking wet in the middle of Santa Monica Boulevard, wondering if I should hurl myself through the window or the door, as if those were the only rational choices.

I was on my way to the door when they were on their way out. I moved fast. That was always my advantage, not strength but speed and agility. I had the guy against the wall, crushed against the umbrella he’d started to open, before he’d even seen me.

“What the—”

“Jonathan!” Her voice. It sounded very far away. I had the guy’s eyes on mine. He looked confused, and I wanted to kill him for not knowing what had upset me.

Monica. Even with the rain in her hair and in her eyes while she was snarling like a lion, I wanted her. What the f**k had I been thinking?

“God damn it. What is wrong with you?” She pushed me off the guy who had kissed her, then pushed me again. “You are f**ked, you know that?”

I stepped back. She stood between him and me, hands out, ready to take me on. I couldn’t get to him without knocking her over. “Move. Just move.”

“Are you serious?”

“You’re mine. No one puts his hands on you. No one.”

The three of them stared at me for a second, then Monica jerked out her thumb. “This guy?”

“That guy.”

“Okay, besides the fact that you walked out on me—”

“Enough!”

The voice that cut the rain was near as powerful as anything I’d heard. Had a car alarm gone off from the vibrations, I would not have been surprised. It was Darren. Little pipsqueak snapped me right out of it. I went from rage to shame before he was finished with the last syllable.

“I have had it with the two of you,” Darren shouted. “I am sick and tired of the whining from you”—he pointed at Monica—“and the psychotic behavior from you.” He pointed at me. “Stop acting like a dick and throwing money at her. Stop breaking up. Just stop. The next time I hear you two broke up, I’m sending out wedding invitations.”

I was struck silent. A part of me smiled, but it wasn’t my mouth.

Darren took the hand of the guy who had kissed Monica and pulled him away. Of course, the coupling had never been Monica and him but Darren and him. I opened my mouth to apologize, but Darren wasn’t facing me. Rain soaked my shirt, dripping under my collar. I’d never felt so ridiculous. Losing my temper never had good results. Monica hugged them both and came back to me. Her skirt stuck to her legs and her shoes sloshed, but she took her time.