“Oh. Yes. Of course. I should do that,” I babbled.
“Later,” he said and moved to his bike.
“Later,” I called as he did, not wanting him to go.
I didn’t understand this.
Okay, he helped me out and he was very nice about it.
And okay, I was alone. Like really alone. No family close by. No friends. No husband. New baby. New life I didn’t like all that much (except said presence of my new baby).
And Joker stopped and helped me out, making a problem I would have had to sort into one of those now nonexistent times when I got to let someone else sort it and I could play with my son, even if that time was on the side of a traffic-clogged interstate.
That meant a lot.
But I didn’t want him to go in a way that wasn’t just not wanting to see the last of a person who did me a kindness.
It was different.
And it was frightening.
But what was more frightening was that he was on his bike and making it roar.
It was almost over.
He’d be gone.
And I’d be alone.
It wasn’t that (or just that).
It was that he’d be gone.
I opened my mouth to yell something over the noise of his motorcycle and Travis hit me in the jaw.
I looked down at my son.
I needed to get him to safety.
And then get him to his dad.
I closed my eyes, opened them, and saw Joker jerk his chin in an impatient way to my car.
So I hurried there, opened the passenger-side door, got my son safely in his car seat, rounded the car, and got in.
Joker didn’t merge into traffic until I did. He also didn’t leave the interstate until I did. He followed me off the ramp to Speer Boulevard.
Then he turned off.
And was gone.
Chapter Three
Down on Her Knees
Carissa
I looked into the mirror and blocked out all thoughts but what I could see.
The dress wasn’t bad. It was one size up from what I’d worn before Travis, but it was cute. It was a blushy-pink fake silk underneath with a chiffon overlay in blush with black butterflies on it. It had no sleeves but it did have wispy frills at the arm holes. It had a full, shortish, flirty skirt, pleats up the front of the bodice, a scoop neck with a little bow at the base, and another bow at the belt at the waist.
It hid my little leftover baby pouch. It also hid my larger-since-Travis behind.
I wore it with my amazing black sandals with a thin T-strap, big double-winged butterfly at the toe, and platform wedge with cork at the sides.
All this was cheap, not to mention, I’d bought it on sale, the only way I could afford clothes for me, clothes I needed since none of my old ones fit.
Still, it was cute. Or at least I thought so.
I’d done up my hair so it was fuller and the ringlets more pronounced. I’d also given myself a new pedicure, elegant, understated ballet pink on my toes. I had on good makeup, slight drama around the eyes, but mostly pink and dewy. And I’d used my expensive perfume, something I rarely used, since it was almost gone and I couldn’t afford to buy more.
I was ready.
Before I could think on what I was ready for, I rushed out of my bedroom and into another one of the three rooms that made up my apartment: the kitchen/dining bar/living room.
I grabbed the chocolate pecan pie with its homemade crust that I’d covered in cling film from the bar.
And again, before I could think, I dashed to my car and headed out.
It was two days after Joker had fixed my tire. I still had the spare on. I hadn’t had time to deal with it, what with work, laundry, cleaning house, not to mention pedicure and pie-making.
Now, I was going to deal with it.
And give my thank-you to Joker.
This made me nervous, so I didn’t think on it as I made my way to Broadway, down Broadway, and straight to Ride.
I was still not thinking on it as I pulled in and drove past the parking spots where you’d park if you were going into the store.
I headed straight to the enormous structure at the back that had three big bays.
The garage.
I drove right to one that looked mostly empty and stopped outside it. I threw open my door, threw out my cute sandaled foot and heaved myself out.