Dancer (6 page)

How could I not take advantage?

In the expansive parking lot, Allison and I observed Chase's gorgeous Mustang convertible.

Unfortunately it wouldn't stay gorgeous for long.

Too bad. So sad.

Allison plucked a key out of her jeans. Her arm outstretched, she scraped the side of the car as she sprinted forward, laughing jovially.

I glanced around to ensure no one was watching, suspicious of shifting shadows and wary of blurred traffic speeding past.

She used the key to carefully carve letters into the Mustang's rear.

Hurry Allison!

Gradually the letters formed a derogatory name:
MAN WHORE
.

Indeed, Chase's car was an exquisite work of art. And hilarious to boot.

"Okay. Let's get the hell outta here." She seized my arm and we raced to the end of the parking lot, chased by our mischievous laughter, gloating like two naughty high-schoolers who'd just fastened the asshole jock's underwear to the flag pole and hoisted it in full view.

Allison jerked open her car door, slipped in and started the engine. I wasn't as fast and all that running caused my stomach to tighten. Regardless I plopped down on the seat, and the car shot toward the highway before I even shut the door. 

We couldn't stop giggling during the drive to Allison's house. Tears streamed down our cheeks. 

Once arriving at our next destination, she and I bolted up the steps to her room, then sat side-by-side at the computer desk.

Prompted by Allison, I began an email.

"Yeah, do it," she said. "It's [email protected]. Rachel told me."

I swiveled the chair to face her. "How exactly does Rachel know so much about Chase?"

Allison seemed reluctant to say. Her gaze snapped between me and the P.C. "Rachel and Chase slept together last year. But only twice."

"Oh. I should've known," I said bitterly, returning my attention to the monitor. Twinges of sympathy coursed through me; sympathy for Chase's poor wife. Did she have any idea how much of a whore her husband was? She had a right to know.

Furious and hell-bent on revenge, I typed...

Hi. Remember me? I'm the drunk lady you drove home a few months ago. Well
CONGRATULATIONS, CHASE! YOU'RE GOING TO BE A DADDY!

"Oh yeah. That's good!" Big eyes sparkling with glee, Allison beamed from ear to ear. Yet I hesitated to send it.

Should I or shouldn't I?

I hit
send
.

And there the message went, flying through cyberspace headed for the elusive sonofabitch named Chase Richardson.

He was about to get the shock of his life and all I could do was gloat. Ah, if only I could be a fly on the wall whenever Chase received my email.

What should Allison and I do now? We discussed it. Heart pounding in excitement, this was the most fun I'd had in months.

It was liberating. Exhilarating.

"I can find out where he lives. I want to break into his house," she said and my breath caught.

Should we really do this? Sometimes Allison didn't know where to draw the line.

How far was
too
far?

But we were on a roll. A good roll. There was no sense in stopping.

No sense at all.

* * * *

T
hree days elapsed.

Anticipation overwhelmed me as I steered my little car around the myriad curves of Cherry Hill Road. Double headlight beams bounced and lit portions of pavement, trees, shrubs.

Allison navigated me to Chase's house located in the countryside.

"Are you sure he isn't there?" I asked, white-knuckling the wheel.

"Yes. I told you he and his wife left for the Virgin Islands. Stop being so paranoid." She chuckled, completely carefree. The opposite of me.

"Are you sure Rachel knows what she's talking about?" I questioned.

"Yes she knows. She's the manager's friend and they're all friends with Chase and his wife. One can't take a piss without the other knowing."

My car rounded a corner and Chase's nice, massive house emerged. I stopped the car perhaps sixty feet from the curb.

We gazed in awe. Similar to a French chateau, his house stood two stories tall with beige siding and gable roofs in varied heights. Aligned lights softly lit the brick exterior and framed the walkway. A stone driveway led to an attached garage.

"Shut off the ignition," Allison said and I did, plunging us into darkness.

"Allison, are you
absolutely
sure we should do this?" I peered at her. Thick gloom shrouded her face.

"I'm sure." Confidence filled her. Ruled her existence. At times I wished I were like her.

Other times I was glad I wasn't.

We climbed out of the car and Allison strolled a few paces ahead.

Oh boy. Here we go. Dear god don't let me regret this.

And through the shadows of the night, like thieves we made our way to the front entrance. A sudden sense of dread pervaded the air. General discomfort told me something bad may happen.

Stupid or not—and it probably
was
stupid—I ignored my intuition.

Leaning over, Allison used a bobby pin to pick the front door lock.

"What if they have an alarm system?" I asked.

"We'll take our chances, won't we?" Over and over she stabbed the pin inside the keyhole, twisting it, jiggling, undeterred whenever there wasn't a click.

"Well can you hurry? What if a car pulls up? What if we get caught? I don't feel like going to jail. My life has been seriously fucked up lately as it is."

"Sam, stop getting your pregnant panties in a twist. Everything will be fine." Further poking, stabbing, twisting.

Click
.

Allison turned the knob and the door swung in.

"
Voila
! Good thing it wasn't a deadbolt." Allison held her head high, proud of her accomplishment and still not a bit worried about consequences.

I wished I had her confidence.

Nevertheless we stepped inside Chase's grand palace, leaving the front door cracked in case we had to make a quick exit.

A tiny nightlight glowed in the modern-style kitchen, casting amber illumination in the family room.

A single word could describe everything:
Plush
. Plush white carpet, plush velvet chairs and sectional sofa, plush area rugs. Plush carpet covered a spiral stairwell.

Plush this. Plush that. A dick like Chase didn't deserve such lavish accommodations.

Good things happen to bad people.

Two obnoxious portraits of Chase and his wife glared at me as I passed the family room. Clad in formal attire, the couple posed facing each other while clasping hands, their pretty faces turned to the camera. Pink roses formed an elaborate arch behind them. A wedding portrait, obvious due to their golden bands.

Chase hadn't worn a ring when I met him.

In the portrait, Chase's devastating good looks stole my breath. His sandy hair glowed like a halo in the light's intensity and he wore a snug tuxedo that tapered at his waist. His mouth curved in a salacious grin.

I remembered his remarks:
'I wanna fuck you. Now do you want me to get you wet, and stick my dick inside you?'

Terrific
.
Why can't I get you outta my head? For fuck's sake I think more about you than I do Caleb. And he shattered my heart into millions of pieces.

Chase, why can't I forget our one night together?

Why can't I forget you?

I couldn't deny how handsome he was. No amount of hatred could blind me to that. Sadly no amount of hatred could make me deny my baby's paternity, either.

But I also couldn't deny the consuming guilt whenever I remembered his wife and how he'd hurt her. She was a victim as well.

And Chase? He was a predator.

Allison's shrill voice brought me to reality. She ushered me toward the colossal flat television mounted to the wall.

"Look at the
size
of this thing!" She spread her arms high as she twirled to regard me. I'd never seen her this excited.

I
wasn't excited.

"He and his wife must be wealthy," I glumly stated.

"Nah, not him. Sam, haven't you figured it out yet?"

I stared at her.

"His
wife
makes all the money. She's an interior decorator and charges a fortune for her expertise." Her tone held a note of sarcasm when she said 'expertise'.

I didn't—couldn't—respond.

"I heard that she bought Chase just like she bought this house, along with everything in it." She smirked.

No way in hell. Chase was using his wife as a free ride on the gravy train? Took several minutes for that to register, though I should've known considering what a prick he was.

He treated women as if they owed him.

Apparently Chase's wife had also decorated the interior, because no self-respecting guy would choose mauve walls and furniture.

Allison and I perched on bar stools in the kitchen where we observed rich oak cabinets, shiny steel fridge and other fancy appliances. For a split second I pretended this house was mine, which almost brought a smile to my face.

Comfortable enough to leave Allison's side, I wandered into a room with a grand piano. My fingers skidded across the piano keys, creating streams of music.

No. In reality I couldn't play the piano worth a shit, nor was it anything I was interested in learning.

We explored the patio and resort-style backyard. Glittering aquamarine flowed on the pool surface as double geysers shot to the foamy center.

Damn
.
The water appeared clean, tempting as hell. Clear as crystal and every bit as pretty. I was ready to strip and dip, but didn't, for I could imagine a police cruiser pulling up. I'd be caught naked, bulging tummy an' all, charged with trespassing and indecent exposure.

Not something I needed.

After our brief outdoor adventure, I went through all four bathrooms and pilfered the medicine cabinets. Good god I was having the time of my life. Strange what some people find amusing and I was certainly amusing myself—by snooping.

"Guess what?" I called, holding a small pink packet. "His wife uses birth control pills!"

"Oh yeah? Jeez, it's a good thing. Mr. Man Whore seems pretty fertile, eh?" Allison answered from the adjacent bedroom.

Yeah, Mr. Man Whore's fertile. I should know.

And knowing his poor wife was better off not having the bastard's spawn, I returned the packet inside the cabinet and shut the mirrored panel.

Downstairs, a treasury of video games lined a mahogany bookshelf in the corner.

Chase owned Black Ops II, which was my favorite console game. I preferred playing Zombies and often competed online with Allison.

I usually surpassed her score thanks to hours of solo practice, despite not really having time to play.

Unfortunately, at one time my job got in the way of defeating those virtual decaying fuckers.

Laughing, Allison and I had a blast sitting on the
plush mauve
sofa, tapping 'our' Playstation 3 controllers as roaring, annoying zombies chased after us on the split-screen.

My damn mobile phone vibrated.
Shit
. I set the controller on the cushion, straightened and yanked the phone from my pocket.

"Who is it?" Allison asked. Overhead, the split-screen turned crimson as zombies smacked our men and killed them.

Game over.

"It's a text message from my mom," I said. "She wants me to come home."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "I'll go home whenever I feel like. I'm having too much fun at the moment." I slumped to the sofa, dropping my phone beside me, ready to play again—and be cheated.

I grabbed a controller as Allison bolted upright, panicked. Her reaction sent a frightening shiver up my spine.

"What? What's wrong?" I cried, letting the controller tumble from my hands.

"I think I heard a car coming. C'mon, we gotta go.
Now
."

We raced outside through the manicured lawn as if certain virtual monsters were hot on our heels. I didn't know if my heart thundered because of my running, pregnancy or adrenaline. Probably all the above.

Headlights appeared, getting closer, brighter.

Horrified to remember I'd parked my car numerous steps ahead, I led Allison on a hasty detour across the street. We crouched behind an abundant mass of shrubs.

A metallic flash of scarlet passed and slowed. Chase's Mustang veered onto the driveway.

Cautiously we skirted to my car, barely visible in the early morning bleakness. She and I stole into my vehicle and quietly,
quietly
closed the doors.

But wait—wasn't I forgetting something?

Oh no.

7

I
t was too late to do anything.

I couldn't return to rectify the situation at Chase's. Couldn't return to correct my stupid-ass mistake.

With a sinking sense of despair, I drove home. Even
Allison
appeared distraught.

This wasn't good.

At home and in my bedroom, I pulled a nightshirt over my head, sank on the bed next to Allison.