“I cook for you. Sleep with you. And I don’t even know you, you know that?”
“You didn’t have to get the guns. I asked. You coulda said no.”
“I just hate ... all day ... regret I said ... that. To you. I don’t understand you. What we have is real fucked up. I mean, I admitted I loved you ... no response ... your prerogative.”
I shifted a bit. Wished I had a shrink to come in, tell me why I couldn’t open up. Why when women got this deep I wanted to pack up and run to a river that had shallow emotions.
She stayed where she was, arms folded.
I asked, “What about that dude you were seeing?”
“Married man?”
“Yeah.”
“That was a one-night stand that lasted three years too long.”
“So you’re saying that’s over.”
“Was over last Christmas. Had a revelation. Got tired of being the cleanup woman.”
“Sure about that? I mean, you moved out here to be with him.”
“Oh, I’m sure. It got ugly. Real ugly.”
“How ugly is real ugly?”
“Restraining-order ugly.”
That was the way of relationships. Everything overlapped until something good came along, then all others went on standby until that something good became something permanent.
More women came out, caps and sweats, dressed down, escorted by bouncers.
I said, “You were all over homeboy up in there.”
“This is where I work. That’s what I do. So don’t trip.”
“I know.”
“I’m a lot of men’s fantasy, Driver. Women too.”
“You’ve been with women?”
She said, “You’re good at changing the subject when I try to be real with you.”
Panther looked at the back window of my car, saw that hole where a window used to be, shook her head, looked at me. “How’s your injury? You’re looking pretty bad. Head hurting?”
“Aches. Need to change the bandage.”
She caught herself, backed down from her feelings, looked away, made a noise that said she was getting cold, but didn’t move from where she stood. “You in a serious bind?”
“Yeah. My place is hot.”
“How hot?”
“Hella hot. Couple of motherfuckers are playing the terrorist role. Broke in. Trashed it.”
“And that’s why you need the burners.”
“Yeah. I’ll give you the story later.”
“Tell me now.”
“Tired as hell now. Look, my spot is hot.”
“Stay with your brother.”
“My brother’s roommate ... We don’t get along ... that wouldn’t work.”
“Sounds like you’re burning bridges all over town.”
“Look ... Panther ... Need a place to crash for a minute.”
She leaned away from me, still shaking her head. “So you need me.”
“Yeah, I do.”
She sighed, her frown so deep. That love she had for me already turning to hate.
I told her, “You’re right. Look, I’ll call you.”
“Don’t.”
“What?”
“Don’t call. Don’t call me, Driver.”
I nodded, waved her ass off, and headed for my ride, long strides, not looking back.
She called my name, snappy and demanding. Not the way for a woman to talk to a man.
I ignored her.
She called my name again, this time her tone better to my liking.
I turned and faced her.
She said, “Look ... Driver ... you can come over.”
“That’s okay.”
“Let’s not do this circle dance.”
“Didn’t you just tell me not to call your ass anymore?”
“Just come over.”
I hesitated, stared at her a moment, my frown as deep as hers, then I nodded.
She cursed and shook her head.
Panther yanked up her gym bag and got in her convertible.
I got in my ride.
That was the longest drive I’d made in a long time.
I thought I had time to rest, time to think, but the night would only get worse.
Panther got to her studio before I did. Street parking was limited. I’d parked uphill near Highland, grabbed my last suit from the back of my car, hoofed it down the concrete hill to her place, had that and the heavy backpack with my weapons of mass destruction at my side.
She ran out of her front door, saw me coming, called my name, sounded terrified.
She rushed back inside, turned her light on, cursed and screamed.
I double-timed, that pain kicked in my knee, reminding me that I had gone down on it hard chasing Lisa yesterday. It slowed me down, but adrenaline masked the agony.
When I got to her porch, she was on the floor, holding her eye, sweat suit damp.
I asked, “What happened?”
I grabbed her arm, pulled her to her feet. Her floor was soaked.
“Slipped and hit my eye on the end table.”
“You okay?”
“Hell no. That shit hurt. All this damn water on my floor.”
Her door had been kicked open. This time they didn’t try to be discreet. Like they had rushed.