Unpredictable Page 5

  “Anyway,” Stacy says regaining my attention. “One day I was in the bathroom while my boyfriend was peeing. I noticed that when he sat down to pee, his penis touched the inside rim of the toilet, and then later when we were in bed he asked for a blowjob. And I realized I’ve been doing this all along.” Her eyes widen. “That’s so gross. So now I hand him a baby wipe every time he wants a blowjob.”

  I stare at her blankly as she lifts her fork and takes a bite of her salad. “He seriously wipes his cock off with a baby wipe before you suck it?” I question. That baby wipe aftertaste has to taste like shit.

  She chokes on her food when I say cock, and it makes me smile to myself.

  “Of course,” she says, wiping her mouth. “If he doesn’t, I won’t do it.”

  “Isn’t that fucking crazy?” Renee asks. “I mean, if a guy asked me to clean myself off before he went down on me, I’d tell him to fuck himself.”

  “Well, as much sex you have, maybe you should,” I suggest, and she gives me a ‘fuck you’ smile.

  “You’re just as bad as me.” She points at me with her spoon.

  I hold my hands up in surrender. “What can I say? We like the cock.” I smile once again when Stacy flinches at my use of language.

  “Cock in the pocket,” Renee says, and I throw my head back laughing.

  “I’m leaving on that note,” I say, standing from the table. I make my way over to the cafeteria line and grab a Coke. I go to pay the lady at the register when a five dollar bill gets shoved in front of me.

  I look over my shoulder to see Dr. Burd standing next to me with a smile on his face. “I got it,” he says as she takes his money.

  “I don’t need you to get my pop for me.” I place my hand on my hip. He works in plastic. He is also the one who did my tits. Ever since then he has been trying to get into my pants. And I hate to admit that it actually happened once. Rollin and I were having one of our off times and I slept with him. Then two weeks later I found out he was married. I was the talk of the hospital for a few days until our chief got caught fucking an ICU nurse in the break room.

  “I know. Just thought I would help you out. Considering you had a bad morning.”

  “How in the hell do you know how my morning was?” I demand as I turn to face him completely. I swear news travels so quickly in this hospital.

  He smiles brightly at me, showing off all the dental work he’s had done. The guy is more fake than Barbie. “I always keep tabs on you.”

  “You’re so creepy.” The guy is total stalker material.

  “I’m sorry about what happened to you and Rollin,” he says frowning. “Already have someone lined up?” he questions as his eyes land on my tits. Thank God the scrubs cover them up.

  “How are you still married?” I ask with all seriousness.

  He smiles. “She lets me fuck around.” I roll my eyes and turn around giving him my back. “So, I’ll call you,” he calls out and I lift up my right hand giving Burd the bird. I hear him chuckle. Bastard!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PARKER

  I wake up and after I get Puss Puss to move off my pillow, I check my clock. It reads 7:00 on Saturday night. I didn’t get as much sleep as I wanted, but it’s enough for now. I make my way into the kitchen and find a yellow sticky note on the fridge. On it reads Parker- There is food for you in the fridge. Sam said you had asked her for a favor, which I find odd. You can explain it to me later. You’re welcome. Tate

  I smile as I open up the fridge. There’s a casserole, some sort of dessert, and some enchiladas. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and close the fridge as I dial Sam’s number. I head back to my bedroom. She answers on the second ring.

  “What’s up, Parker?” she asks sounding irritated. I shouldn’t have called. I know she’s busy working.

  “I, uh just wanted to call and tell you thank you. I found the food that Tate brought home for me.”

  “Oh,” she says surprised. I know, Sam, I’m usually a dick. I never call others to thank them. “I hope it’s enough.” Her voice has softened.

  “It’s plenty. Thank you,” I repeat. How much can I thank her?

  “You’re welcome,” she says, and I hold the phone awkwardly to my ear as I try to take my boxers off. I can tell she wants to ask about the situation. She wants to know what happened, but I don’t talk about work with my friends. Especially the girls. They’re too emotional. Hell, I about cried when I saw the little girl and father. Sam would lose it. I don’t know what a mother’s love is like, but I know what an uncle’s love is like. I consider myself an uncle to her and Slade’s little girl. And it would kill me if something happened to Sadey.

  “Well, I’ll let you go,” I say to end this awkward conversation. “Just wanted to thank you once again.”

  “Anytime,” she responds, and I hang up the phone. I toss it onto my bed and then lift my shirt up over my head. The hem of it catches on my nose, and I hiss in a deep breath.

  Making my way into the bathroom, I look at it in my mirror. The thing is still swollen. I’m pretty sure the chick broke it. I reach up and try to touch it, but the pain shoots down my face. Cussing up a storm, I reach into the medicine cabinet and down some Advil. That’s gonna have to do for now. I have some things I have to take care of tonight.

  *****

  I hate this part of my job. The part where the loved ones have to say goodbye—where they have to face the evil in the world. That’s my job. That’s why I became a cop. To handle those situations so others don’t have to.

  I look down at the paper to verify the address one last time and pull up outside of the house that matches it. I turn off my truck and reach over to the passenger seat to grab the box that I had placed the food in and grab the freshly washed baby blanket. With a deep breath, I exit my truck.

  I take a few more deep breaths as I walk up to the house. The sight of the baby walker on the front porch breaks my heart. Was the little girl an only child? Would that make it easier or harder for them? I don’t have children. But I wasn’t an only child. I have a younger brother that I never speak to. And my father loves him more. I was my mother’s favorite. I’m not saying that every family is that way, but that’s how I was raised. That’s what I know. Doesn’t mean it’s right, just means I understand it—favoritism.

  I try to straighten my button-down black shirt before ringing the doorbell. I thought about wearing my uniform but decided against it. I’m not here as a cop, I’m here as a regular person wanting to pay their respects.

  I straighten my back as I hear the door unlock from the inside. It swings open and a woman who looks to be in her early twenties stands before me. Her shoulder length jet-black hair looks unwashed. Her oversized shirt looks to be falling off her and her black yoga pants look like they are a size too big. But it’s her green eyes that look the worse. They look bloodshot and empty. Her cheeks are wet and her nose is red and raw. I feel the loss of the little girl all over again.

  “May I help you?” Her voice is soft, yet sounds concerned.

  “Hello…” I swallow nervously. How do I bring up something that she’s probably trying to forget? “My name is Parker. Officer Parker O’Hare,” I inform her, and her eyes start to water as if she knows why I’m here. My heart breaks. To avoid a breakdown of my own, I offer her the box. “I brought you some food.”

  Tears run down her cheeks as she takes it from me. “Please come in.” She steps to the side.

  “Oh, no…”

  “Please,” she insists, and I hate to refuse her.

  I nod my head. “Thank you,” I say as I enter her home. It’s small but nicely kept. There are pictures of the little girl that run the length of the mantel above the fireplace. She was adorable. She had green eyes like the woman standing in front of me. She had black hair like her as well, but it was a little curly. The very last picture is of her sleeping on a bed and it looks so much like when I saw her this morning. Peaceful.

  “I’m sorry to have bother
ed you,” I say turning to face the mother. I can’t look at any more pictures of the little girl.

  “You didn’t,” she says placing the box on the coffee table. “Can I get you anything?” she asks wiping the tears from her eyes.

  “No, thank you.”

  She looks me in the eye and I realize that I still have my sunglasses on. I don’t know why I was wearing them in the first place. The sun was starting to set outside. I quickly push them to the top of my head and try not to cringe when I run them over the top of my nose. “You were there?” she asks, taking a deep breath.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She gives me a small smile. “Please. Call me Taylor.”

  I look down at the blanket that rests in my other hand. I don’t even think she knows I’m holding it, and I almost forget about it myself. “I thought you would want to have this,” I say walking over and offering it to her.

  She slowly reaches out and takes it into her hands. Bringing the blanket to her chest, she hangs her head. I stand there and watch a mother cry for the loss of her child. An innocent child taken too soon from her loving mother.

  She looks up at me and tears run down her face in streams. She sniffs and walks up to me. She wraps her arms around me, and I softly hug her back. “Thank you,” she cries into my chest. “Thank you for giving me a piece of my baby.”

  And with those words, I allow a tear to slide down my cheek.

  *****

  KATHERINE

  It’s been two weeks since I went ape shit on my ex, Rollin, and was arrested. I wish I could say that was the lowest I have ever been, but that would be a lie. And I’m not a liar. My father raised me to tell the truth. Now, don’t get that confused with someone who expresses every little feeling they ever have. That kind of shit I keep to myself. I don’t cry. Crying shows weakness and even the kindness of a person can turn on you at any given moment and use your weakness against you. Therefore, I stand strong and keep to myself mainly. It seems to work for the most part. The past two weeks have actually been pretty good. My father was released from the hospital and I took off some time to stay home with him. Today is the first day I’ve left the house. Today is the day that my friend, Missy, is getting married.

  I sigh heavily as I look at myself in the full-length mirror. The purple dress fits perfectly, but I feel uncomfortable. It makes me look too pretty. Too done up. I wear make-up and fix my hair on a daily basis, but I feel the prettiest when I’m sure others think I look the ugliest. At the gym. When my body is exhausted and I’m sweating profusely—that is when I feel pretty. That is when I feel strong. When I feel like I have had enough, but I push myself to go further. Growing up, I was that really skinny, tall kid. You know the one I’m talking about. I had stick legs and bony arms. And on top of that, I was pretty tall for a girl. I finally stopped growing once I hit five-foot-nine at the age of sixteen. I was very thankful for that day. I had friends, but that didn’t mean that others didn’t look at me like I was a freak. Guys my age wouldn’t ask me out on dates and I sure as hell wasn’t gonna date a high school idiot anyway. I preferred the college kids. The college kids weren’t all that judgmental. They just wanted to get drunk or high. Back then, they called it chilling. So when I got out of school, I joined a gym and decided to use being small as an advantage.

  I look in the mirror once again and smooth down the dark purple material. The softness of my palms makes me smile. And the fact that my girlfriend is getting married in about twenty minutes is the topping on the cake. Literally.

  “I love these dresses,” Sam, a pretty brunette standing next to me, says. Her half-brother is Tate, the one who is marrying my good friend, Missy.

  “Aren’t they?” I say with a smile. I’ve been in two weddings. One was a friend from high school who got pregnant right out of high school. She married the baby daddy, but it ended after a year. Who would have thought? The second wedding was a second cousin. The dress was hideous, but my father made me wear it. I burned it afterward.

  “Speak for yourself,” Holly says with a frown. “I look hideous,” she whines as she runs her hand over her growing belly. “It makes me look like a giant grape.”

  We all laugh. “You look adorable, sis,” Sam says placing her hand on Holly’s belly. Sam is married to Slade, who is Micah’s older brother and Holly’s husband. It can get confusing. They are all connected in some way; I’m the odd ball out. But they don’t treat me that way. They are all nice and very welcoming.

  “You all look perfect!” Missy says as she turns to face us with a smile on her face and a small purple rose in her hair that she has pulled up into her veil. “I wanna do a toast real quick and tell you all how much I love you,” she says as Courtney, their other good friend, starts to pour us all a drink.

  “I can’t,” Holly says placing up her hand.

  “It’s sparkling juice,” Missy informs us. “I kept you in mind, Holly.”

  Courtney passes them out. Once we each have one, Missy raises hers. “To my girls.”

  “This toast should be about you,” I say with a frown. All the girls nod their heads, agreeing with me.

  Missy shakes hers. “This day is about me. This moment is about you girls. I love you all.” She smiles. “Thank you for helping me make my day that much more beautiful by being a part of it. Cheers,” she says before she tosses her drink back, and we all follow after her.

  “Who wants to take bets?” Courtney asks.

  “Bets?” I ask curiously.

  Sam answers my question. “All of our men are always betting on things.” She rolls her eyes. “It’s quite comical.” She turns to face Courtney. “What did you want to bet on?”

  “I was thinking Parker.” She laughs. “I bet he bangs someone in the hall closet before Missy and Tate can even cut the cake.” She chuckles to herself.

  “Who’s Parker?” I ask.

  Sam turns to me. “He’s the guys’ annoying friend. You know how everyone has that one friend who fucks everything? That’s him. And at my and Slade’s wedding, he slept with Holly’s cousin in the closet.” Holly sighs heavily. “And then he kissed Tate’s mother,” Sam continues. “It was quite comical.”

  “Sounds like he’s a douche,” I say then cringe when I realize how bitchy it was to talk bad about their friend. “Sorry.”

  “No. He is.” Missy laughs. “But no worries. I already told him no sex at our wedding or reception.”

  “You can’t tell that boy anything,” Courtney adds. Then she points at me. “Be careful; you’re the only single bridesmaid. And you’re hot.” I laugh. “So keep an eye on him. He will try to hump your leg.”

  “I can handle myself,” I say with a smile making everyone laugh.

  “It’s time to go, ladies.” Sam places her empty glass back on the tray and grabs Missy’s from her.

  “Go ahead. I’ll be right there,” I call out as they all exit the room. I take one last look at myself, reapplying my lip-gloss, when I see the door open behind me in the mirror.

  “Well, well, well.” I hear a man’s voice behind me at the door. “So, you’re the beautiful woman I’ll be escorting down the aisle?”

  I grab the skirt to my dress and pull it up allowing me to spin around. My mouth instantly goes dry the second I see who the guy is. Fuck me! Can my luck get any worse?

  CHAPTER SIX

  PARKER

  Holy shit! “No way,” I say as a smile spreads across my face. “So, you are Missy’s friend?” I shouldn’t have missed rehearsal yesterday. I had to work and I told Tate it wasn’t that big of a deal. All I had to do was walk down the aisle. How was I supposed to know that I was gonna be walking with a crazy psycho bitch?

  “You fix up nice,” I say as I allow my wandering eyes to look at her slim body wrapped in that tight purple dress. It hugs her chest perfectly. Showing me just the tops of her breasts. Not too trashy but definitely doesn’t hide the huge things. It has a white, thick piece of fabric that goes around her waist before the dress fla
res out.

  She takes a step back. “This can’t be happening.”

  I laugh as I run a hand over my tux. “I actually think it’s quite funny.”

  She turns around giving me her back as she looks at herself once again in the mirror. “You have the wrong room.”

  I frown. “Tate told me that I was escorting Katherine?” I ask with a smile. “You are Katherine, correct?”

  She narrows her eyes at me in the mirror. “Do you prefer Kat? Maybe Kitty?” I raise my eyebrows as I get an idea. “Oh, how about Kitty Kat?” I laugh at myself. “I’ve always been a fan of pet names.” Her body stiffens. “Would you like to be my pet for the day?” I try to ask with a straight face. “I have a pussy at home, but she…”

  “Fuck this,” she hisses, interrupting me. “I’m not walking anywhere with you. You son…”

  “Whoa,” Tate says entering the room. “What’s going on in here?” he asks giving me narrowed eyes. “I can hear you from down the hall.”

  I shrug. “Ask her.” I allow my eyes to look her up and down once again. I was being serious when I said she cleaned up nicely. But I know that it doesn’t matter how many times you shower, you can’t wash the bitch off.

  She huffs as she places her hands on her hips. “I can’t walk with him,” she states to Tate.

  Tate looks over at me, and then back to her. “Why not?”

  “This jackass arrest…”

  “Whoa.” I throw my arm up interrupting her. “I was just doing my job,” I say defensively.

  “You weren’t doing shit!” she throws back

  “You practically broke my nose,” I say pointing at it. It’s been two weeks, and it still hurts when I go to blow it.

  She throws her head back and laughs an evil laugh, which fits her quite well. I kinda like it. I’m so tired of those women who try to be someone they’re not. I’ve been around enough bitches to know they all have a crazy side. She just lets hers hang out. It’s an attractive trait, if I must say so.