LATCH (2 page)

Laying my head against her chest, I hope that by doing this, I’m not opening either of us up to be too vulnerable. But with Abby, I do all sorts of things that I normally don’t.

The noise of her heart beats against my ear, and I own this moment of peace.

Then the alarm for her condo chimes that the front door has opened and we freeze, looking each other in the eye.

She’s terrified.

It has to be her husband. I hate to see her scared; a girl like Abby deserves the fuckin’ world. And her asshole baseball playing prick of a husband doesn’t give it to her. “What do you want me to do?” I ask her.

“Go,” she whispers reaching for the collar to remove it, and without hesitation, I listen to her. Looking around the room, there is no way to gather my things, which are spread out all over the bedroom, or to help her.

“Abby?” he calls out and I spot my pants on the chair. Darting to them, I move with urgency and hit the window not even taking the time to get dressed. I look back at Abby as she’s shoving everything under the bed. “I’m sorry,” I tell her before opening the window, knowing it will chime through the alarm, but right now, I don’t have a choice.

The fresh air is freeing as I fly down the fire escape like a monkey, not caring that I’m fifteen floors up. Above me, I hear chaos coming from the window and then a loud bang. I know he is coming after me as the fire escape vibrates. I’m tempted to stop and fuck him up – he deserves it after all of the shit he’s put Abby through. But it wouldn’t change him. It’d just make it worse for her, which is exactly what I don’t want.

As I hit the ground and yank my pants up. I hear him jump to the ground too. I sense he’s gaining on me, so I push harder. Moving as fast as my legs will run. My feet burn against the road, but they don’t hurt as bad as the thought of never seeing Abby again. I can’t lose her. She means too much to me to just let go of. If I’m being honest with myself, she stopped being a client a long time ago.

In the next second a yellow taxi flies up the street and I take the opportunity to get away, flagging him down and hopping into the back seat. With my eyes on the floor, I command in a firm voice, “To Crown Heights, as fast as you can. I’ve got a hundred with your name on it!”

The driver doesn’t respond with words, just the tires squealing as I glance up to see his eyes on the rearview mirror. Abby’s husband makes it just in time and yells something, smacking the trunk. With my head hung down, my eyes are on my tattooed chest as it heaves.

Goddammit, why did I let this happen?

Slowly the air comes back to me and I worry about Abby and what he’s going to do to her.

“That guy after you?” the cabby asks me.

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive and as I arrive back at my house, away from the madness, I happily pay the man a hundred dollars for a ride that was a quarter that. My heart is still racing as I walk up the stairs to the place I’ve called home for a few years now. Stopping at the top, I take in a few deep breaths, needing the fresh air.

What a trip that was.

My phone rings and I grab it out of my pocket. I hope it’s not Abby’s husband with her phone. Luckily it’s just Mark and Nicole. They’re a very wealthy couple I work with from time to time who make my job very worthwhile.

“Hey guys,” I answer.

“Hi Latch, it’s only Mark. Did I catch you at an okay time?”

I head inside my place. “Yeah, of course, what’s going on, man?”

“I was wondering if you could make a visit tonight? I know it’s last minute, but I’ll make it worth your time.”

“I’ve had a pretty crazy day.”

“I’ll double your normal pay,” he offers. I debate taking him up on this, but anymore it’s not about the money. I have plenty of it. “How about tomorrow?” I offer, needing to settle down and make sure that Abby is all right.

“Can’t, I’ll be out of town.”

A text comes through my phone from Nicole’s cell.
Please come play with us and fuck me, Latch.

She must be listening to him talk to me. Even though it would help keep my mind busy from thinking about Abby, I’m fried.

“Sorry, man, I can’t make it tonight.”

I hang up before he can say anything else. I just need a fucking night off.

Watching Darrell run down the alley after Latch has my heart racing. I’m kind of hopeful Latch lets him catch him, but I know he won’t. I pull myself away from the window to clean up the rest of the room. Looking around at the array of sex toys scattered all over, it is a mess. I start picking up all the toys that just moments ago I was having so much fun with and pull the others out from under the bed, shoving everything into Latch’s black duffel bag.

Deep down, I think I knew this day would eventually come. Being with Latch was wrong, that I’m aware of, but never did I imagine the fear that I would feel when it all came crashing down. I’m scared for when Darrell returns; I don’t want to face him and deal with the reality of explaining why I cheated, when he’s done it to me more times than I can count. Plus, he’s got one hell of a temper, and I never know when he’s going to snap. He’s been MIA for three weeks, which has become the new norm for him. I don’t ask questions, so he doesn’t tell. It’s sad that this is my reality. I went from being happily married to baseball’s MVP to paying a goddamn escort for sex.

Lifting the bag, to the ledge of the window, I try and zip it, noticing that Latch’s soft black t-shirt is in the way. Taking it out, I smell it and know that I cannot part with it. Keeping the shirt in my hand, I close the bag, lean out the window, and throw it as far as I can, hoping to land it somewhere close to the dumpster.

Then I hide Latch’s shirt in my dresser and get dressed, putting on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. In the living room, I hear the front door slam and a wave of anxiety like I’ve never felt before explodes inside of me as I prepare for Darrell’s inevitable rage. Sitting on the leopard chair in the corner of the bedroom, my knees are huddled to my chest in what I hope is self-protection.

He comes around the corner and barrels into the room looking out of breath and wild. I figure I better try and explain things to him before he goes ballistic. If it’s not too late.

“It’s not what you think,” I tell him, knowing it’s a lie. It’s exactly what he thinks.

“Really, then what is it, Abby? I found you and another man naked in our bedroom.”

I shrug my shoulders knowing that I am at a great disadvantage. My clit is still twitching from the working Latch gave me. I push away the thoughts of Latch. He steps to me and I can barely look him in the eye, scared, not ready for the craziness that he is about to unleash. His arms are crossed over his chest and he asks me with a beet red face, “Who the fuck is he, Abby?”

“Just some guy I met at the store.” Which is not completely a lie – I did meet Latch at the grocery store. However, I’m not about to go into more detail and tell him that I pay Latch for sex and we’ve been fucking for the better part of a year.

“Do you do this often when I’m on the road? Fuck random guys in my home?”

“This is my home too.”

“So that makes it okay?”

“Like you’re a fucking saint, Darrell,” I snap.

“Fuck you!” He grabs my face holding me by the cheeks with one hand and looking me so closely in the eye. “I’ve never brought anyone into this home.”

Even though part of me is terrified that he might really hurt me, his words ignite a rage of my own that has words flying out of my mouth before I can stop them. “So what, now you’re going to admit it? After all this time, that you’ve sworn up and down telling me that you’re faithful on the road, when I know you’re not?”

“I’ve never fucked anyone in this house!” he shouts and pushes me backwards, walking out of the bedroom. My cheeks throb where his fingers dug in, and I pull in a shaky breath. In the distance, I hear him set a glass on his stupid bar that when he
is
here he touches more than me and then the noise of ice drops into the tumbler.

What am I going to do?

I contemplate packing a bag and just leaving. But where would I go? I moved to New York with Darrell when he got traded here. I have no family here and have never been part of his team or been accepted by the other wives. I do have a few girl friends I went to college with, but they all live so far away. I’m not about to inconvenience them. Or Latch…well, that’s not even an option, not with what he does for a living. As has been happening more and more often lately, a pang hits me deep in my chest at the thought of the realities of Latch’s job. It’s hard enough to push away the thoughts of it when we are together. Absently I rub my hand over my sternum and try to shake it off…I need to focus on Darrell right now.

I decide to talk to him again, to make him see that he is the one who drove me to this. In a strong, firm voice as I walk out of the bedroom I ask him, “Are you really shocked, Darrell?” His glass hits the bar and before I can blink he’s in my face, leaning over me, his nose pressed against mine, and he looks like a fuckin’ lunatic.

“You’re really going to try to justify being a whore in
my
home? Don’t forget I’m the reason you are who you are, with your quarter million dollar closet and five hundred dollar fucking haircuts. It’s all because of
me
, you stupid bitch.” Spit flies out of his mouth and then his big hand covers my face and he pushes me away again. But I stand my ground, not backing down to him like I have so many other times.

“You haven’t been home in almost a month. I don’t know where you’ve been, or what you’re doing. What did you expect me to do?”

“Not fuck someone else!”

“It’s no different than what you do, except I’ve only slept with one person. And you…how many roadies have you slept with?”

“Abby, fucking some guy in my bed is not okay under any circumstances. I can smell his cum on your breath, you fucking slut!” He turns away from me and slams his drink, then holds onto the back of his neck with his hands.

“You act like you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s unbelievable, Darrell, how you think that everyone owes you the goddamn world.” I take in a deep breath, “Well, guess what? I don’t owe you shit! I can pack a bag and leave all this wonderful you speak of.” He shakes his head and slams his fist through the glass of a kitchen cabinet door. I jump back, frightened. He turns towards me with venom in his eyes, yelling, “I should’ve put your fuckin’ face through that cabinet.”

“Fuck you, Darrell. If you think this is so wonderful, then you’ve lost your mind. I’m not going to cower down to you like I always have. This isn’t even a goddamn marriage anymore,” I scream.

“Oh, yes, it is, you’re still my wife, and it’s going to fucking stay that way, whether you like it or not,” he threatens me, controlling me like he always has.

“So what? You’re going to force me to make this work? We haven’t slept in the same bed for close to a year, so it should not come as a surprise that I went down the same road you have. I learned from the best!”

He’s slow to say anything and I know I have him. Cheating on him with Latch was wrong, but we are both wrong – he gives me
no
attention, he’s completely checked out on our marriage and me. All he cares about is drinking and his glamorous lifestyle, partying up and being this huge celebrity everyone gawks after. A life I never dreamt he would want to have. Looking at Darrell, pouring another drink, with his hand all bloody, I can’t believe that this is the man he has turned into.

Waking up on my couch, my cock is rock hard. My mind is on Abby and it has my dick standing straight up.

Fuck, what has happened to me?

I run my hands over my face, knowing inside that I never should’ve crossed the line with her. I knew she was married, but it didn’t matter to me. Not this time. Not at all. I saw the ring on her finger, but the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew I had to have her and not just once. Even if I was hiding it all behind the bullshit of her being my “client.” And for a while, it was bullshit I believed. But I should’ve said no…had I done so, I wouldn’t be here. This pain is something that I don’t know how to handle. I don’t want to feel at all, it’s unnecessary.