Misty (12 page)

“Oh, my God, I'm getting married? Who is the lucky groom?”

“No idea.”

Gavin let out a happy laugh. “Can you tell me when is the wedding supposed to take place?”

“Sorry, I didn't get a sense of the date.”

“Do you at least know the season?”

“Um, it appeared to be an autumn wedding.”

Gavin's mouth turned down. “I don't like autumn colors. I'm more into pastels; I'm a spring-and-summer-type guy.”

Misty shrugged, indifferently.

Gavin stuck out his hand. “Read me again. I need more details about my wedding.”

This bitch must be crazy; I'm not trying to see him meet a bloody, bludgeoning death, again.
“I can't. I'm tired; I really need to rest.”

“Please.”

“No!” Misty said sharply. “I have no strength left, and I'm in pain. It's time for my medication.” She allowed her shoulders to slump, emphasizing her exhaustion.

“Tomorrow, then?”

“That's too soon. I actually shouldn't be doing any readings while I'm recuperating. The flashes of light are painful. You're going to have to wait until I've healed.”

“How long did Dr. Cavanaugh say it's going to take?” Gavin asked, quietly seething. Apparently he was accustomed to getting what he wanted.

“Two to three weeks. Maybe a month.”

Gavin shook his head mournfully. “I don't know how I'm going to be able to wait that long.”

“The healing process might speed up if I had more nursing care,” Misty said slyly. “My coverage only pays for four hours daily.” Misty had no idea when Gavin was going to meet his gruesome and untimely demise, but it behooved her to work quickly and get as much of his money as she could, as soon as possible.

“I can cover the cost of nursing care around the clock, if that will hasten the healing process.”

“I don't need care around the clock, but I do need someone who can do other functions as well as nursing. You know, like cooking for me and my man, running errands, and doing some housekeeping duties.”

“That's not a problem. I'll call an agency and get you a nurse slash maid as soon as possible.”

“Great, but I want to keep Audrey from seven to eleven. The other person can start her shift when Audrey's ends and work from eleven to seven.”

“Fine. Would you like to interview the applicants?”

“Yes, Audrey and I will interview them together. Audrey can ask them all the nursing questions and find out if they're up to par.”

“Good idea.”

“Another thing.”

“Certainly.”

“I need some furniture in this place. My boyfriend didn't get any because he thinks I need the space to wheel around in here. He expects me to learn how to operate a motorized wheelchair.”

“Sounds like a good idea.”

“I don't have any intention of sitting in this wheelchair for the rest of my life.”

Gavin's eyebrows drew together in puzzlement.

“I'm going to walk again,” Misty affirmed.

“Wasn't your spine damaged beyond repair? There's no surgery for your type of injuries, is there?”

“Not that I know of. But I saw my future in a dream, and I was walking.” She nodded her head adamantly. “I was walking in heels.”

P
utting in a hard day's work was invigorating and made Brick feel like a man, but he was hungry as a bear, and could go for a hearty meal. Not much of a cook, there wasn't any point in going home and trying to put together an edible dinner. Preparing food for Misty was easy since she wasn't able to chew anything of substance; her diet consisted of nutritional drinks, soup, oatmeal, scrambled eggs, and other soft foods. He thought about stopping at a deli and getting a hoagie or a cheesesteak with an order of large fries, but that kind of take-out food seemed more suitable for lunch. He sure missed Thomasina's good food, and he also missed going home to his son after a hard day's work, but he'd destroyed his stable home life when he tried to grant Misty's wishes and give her a dignified death. It took breaking up with his wife to make him realize that his feelings for her had diminished.

Funny how things worked out. Never in a million years would he have imagined him and Misty cohabitating together again. When she first came out of the coma, it seemed as if she'd been enlightened. She seemed warmer, her heart filled with love. But ever since she got that iPad, she had gone back to her old, devious ways. She wasn't happy unless she was swindling someone out of their money. She was running a big con on that rich dude, and Brick wasn't about that life anymore. He knew in his heart, he
couldn't be a part of Misty's shady dealings. He wouldn't tell her right away; he'd wait until she felt more confident about her appearance. Once she had her looks back, she probably wouldn't even care that Brick wanted to end their relationship.

There, he'd admitted it to himself. He didn't want to be with Misty, anymore. He'd changed, but she hadn't. He was satisfied with working hard and leading an ordinary life, but she still wanted the moon, the stars, and the sun. She wanted attention and to shine so badly, she was willing to pretend to be psychic as a way to get her hands on other people's money.

He wouldn't leave her helpless; he'd find her an assisted living facility. There had to be agencies that could help find her suitable housing. He'd heard of wheelchair communities throughout the city that catered to young people. Misty wouldn't like it, but over time, she'd adjust. She had no choice. Once he got her situated in a safe environment, he was out! He didn't need the big, expensive apartment they were living in; he'd be perfectly comfortable in a smaller place.

Brick entered the apartment carrying an extra-large pizza with the works for himself and a large order of cheese fries for Misty, something she'd always enjoyed since childhood. He figured cheese fries were the kind of finger food that she could grasp and feed herself and were also soft enough for her to chew.

To his surprise, the living room was fully furnished. Brick put the pizza and fries down on the kitchen counter and then poked his head in the bedroom. Misty was sitting up in bed, hunched over the iPad as usual.

“Where'd the furniture come from?”

“Gavin paid for it and had it delivered.”

“I could have bought furniture, but I thought you needed room to wheel around.”

“I don't want to wheel around.”

“Okay, there's no point in arguing about it. I picked up one of your favorite snacks,” he said, making his voice sound more cheerful than he felt.

“What?” she asked without looking up.

“Cheese fries.”

“Oh, I'm not hungry. The nurse whipped up a banana and strawberry smoothie and I'm still full from that.” Misty pointed to a milky concoction inside a tumbler with an adaptive handle that allowed her to pick it up, and the long, bent straw inserted in the no-spill lid, also assisted in her self-feeding.

Noticing she'd only drunk half of the smoothie, he said, “The nurse left at eleven and it's five-thirty; aren't you hungry?”

“Nope, too excited to be hungry.”

Brick looked at her thoughtfully. “Excited about what?” Misty's mind was always busy, and she stayed plotting and scheming. He braced himself for what she would pull out of her bag of tricks.

“Gavin surprised me with a visit today.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Not really; he wanted a reading.”

“And…”

“I gave him what he wanted.”

“That man spent a fortune getting you the surgery that you desperately wanted, he sent furniture over, and you repay him by playing head games with him?”

“You don't get it, do you?”

“Yeah, I get it. You still only care about you, and I was gullible enough to believe that your brush with death had made you a better person, but you'll never change, Misty.”

“Why don't you believe me? Do you really think I'm crazy enough to keep a lie like this going?”

“How long have I known you?”

“Since forever.”

“That's right. And there's never been anything psychic about you. I went along with that crazy story about the janitor because I thought you were hallucinating. But I can't pretend to believe in this crap any longer.”

“I don't need your pity, Brick. Sorry you refuse to believe me, but that's your problem. I didn't ask for this gift of sight, but I have it and I'd be crazy not to milk it for all it's worth.”

“I hope this shit doesn't backfire on your ass. That rich dude may seem nice, but I bet he'll show you a totally different side if he finds out you're running a game on him. Rich folks like to sue and they have access to high-powered attorneys—the kind that throw around expressions like fraud and embezzlement—”

“Embezzlement? You sound stupid. How am I going to embezzle anybody? I don't have access to that man's money.”

“All right, well ‘embezzlement' wasn't the right word, so let me put it in terms that make more sense. Handicapped or not, that dude and his team of lawyers will put your ass underneath the jail if he finds out you've been taking him for a ride.”

“I'm trying to be optimistic about my life. Trying to move forward without feeling sorry for myself, and here you are, talking all this doom and gloom bullshit. Tell me, Brick, what do you prefer that I do—lie in this bed and watch TV all day or make myself useful?”

“I want the best for you, Misty, and you know it. The other day when you told me you could pay me much more than I earn on my job, well, the conversation brought back some unpleasant memories for me. If you think I'd ever allow you to pimp me in any way, you're a lot crazier than you're acting.”

“Ain't nobody trying to pimp you, Brick,” Misty said with disgust. “Damn, I was young and wild back then. Give me some credit for maturing and changing my ways.”

Brick gawked at her. “You were pimping a whole stable of dudes right before you got hurt.”

“But after that tragedy, I saw the error of my ways. I would never use people like that again. From now on, I'm going to earn a living with my God-given talent.”

With a smirk on his face, Brick reached out and touched Misty's hand. “Make me a believer. Give me a reading.”

“I'm coming up blank. I can't get a reading on you.”

“I didn't think so,” he said smugly, and walked out of the bedroom.

•  •  •

Sitting in the chair in the living room and using an empty box for a table, he watched
The First 48
as he wolfed down pizza along with Misty's cheese fries. With a slice from the second box in hand, Brick was suddenly snoring.

Brick dreamed of being in Trinidad. Anya was dancing in the moonlight; swinging her hips to the rhythm of an island song. Brick had no idea that Anya could dance like that. People were clapping, men were leering at her. Watching her move so seductively made Brick's dick hard, and when she silently led him away from the crowd, taking him to a private area of the beach, Brick eagerly dropped his pants and lay on top of her glistening body that was sprawled out on the sand. Grunting, he made love to her, whispering her name over and over again. “I'm glad we're back together, Anya.”

“Shh! Don't talk! Fuck me!” she demanded.

Giving her what she wanted, Brick drove himself more deeply inside her.

Jolting awake, Brick cussed when he realized he'd had a wet dream and his inner left thigh was sticky with ejaculation.

S
ergio was a breast man; there was no doubt about that. The way he cupped Anya's tits, almost worshipfully, was a turn-on. With his lips tugging on her nipples while his tongue swirled around the knotted flesh, hot moisture instantly accumulated between her legs. Something needed to be inserted inside her pussy, to take the edge off. Her hand drifted downward, her middle finger poised to penetrate.