Roxy Harte (30 page)

Charlie pats my shoulder and pulls a blanket from one of many piles of stuff littering his floor to cover me. “What can I do?”

“Nothing. Just loan me your couch ‘til I figure this out.”

“Sure, sofa’s yours.” He strokes my arm, ending with holding my hand. “Mind if I ask just exactly what you’re trying to figure out?”

“How to fix this. I fucked up. What’s wrong with me?” I cry harder. Charlie lays his body over mine, holding me, whispering, “There’s nothing wrong with you Ce, you’ve just fallen down the rabbit hole, and things seem all messed up right now. But it’s going to be okay. I don’t know them except by reputation and in the community, but you couldn’t ask for better—either way, you’ll win.”

“No, Charlie, either way I lose. When I’m with Garrett all I can think about is not being with Thomas, and when I’m with Thomas, I think about Garrett.” I snort and it isn’t a happy sound. “I am such a fucking whore.”

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I awaken on Charlie’s sofa, not that I slept, not really, twenty-minute naps, followed by tossing and turning, followed by a lapse into sleep that was terrifying. This is the way I sleep, have always slept for as long as I can remember. Sleep frightens me. Strangely, in Garrett’s bed, I slept. At Thomas’s too, I slept.

What does that say about me that I need to be chained, caged, or even merely in bed with a sadist and then and only then do I feel safe enough to sleep?

If everything falls apart with Garrett and Thomas, I will talk to George, not to Master me, but to psychoanalyze me. Even if Garrett or Thomas keep me, a long discussion with the once-upon-a-time psychiatrist is in order.

An alarm pulls me further into wakefulness. Charlie’s wake-up. Sounds of rustling come from behind his closed bedroom door and I know he prepares to go to the office. He’ll be there by eight; then, I’ll be alone again. I can’t panic. I’ll be fine alone in his apartment…no, not a chance…I’m a wreck, an utterly useless, hand-shaking, heart-racing mess. What is wrong with me that I want to cry again?
I will not cry!

I bury my face under the pillow, hiding tears that shouldn’t be falling. Footsteps alert me to Charlie’s presence in the room.

“Celia? Are you okay?” He jerks the pillow from my hands and pulls me, sobbing, into his arms, though I didn’t realize I was sobbing hysterically, I obviously was.

“I want to go home.”

“Okay, I’ll call Garrett.”

“No!”

“Thomas?”

“No!” I bury myself tighter against Charlie, whispering, “I don’t know.” Letting him hold me and rock me.

“Shh, just relax. Everything is going to work out, Ce. Just relax.”

He tries to pat my back, but it is an uncomfortable pat. As a pastor’s daughter, I’ve unfortunately held too many disheartened or mourning people in my life—enough to know a genuine pat from an awkward
what in the hell do I do now
pat and I never meant to put Charlie in this position. Feeling ridiculous, I force myself to stop crying and just lie against him for a moment. It isn’t a comfortable moment. I shouldn’t be here. I’m not comfortable being comforted by Charlie and he isn’t comfortable comforting me. Awkwardly, he pushes me back down onto the sofa and covers me with a blanket. “I’m calling off work, then I’ll be in the kitchen making breakfast. Pancakes okay?”

I nod, but he is already moving away, grabbing the phone from the top of the coffee table en route to the kitchen. His voice comes through the wall, calling in to say he will be in after lunch. I close my eyes. He honestly believes this can be resolved in a few hours and maybe he’s right. Maybe I’m making too much of this.

Hearing him pull out bowls and ingredients calms me, identifying objects by the sound they make on the counter top, eggs, milk, oil, a box of pancake mix. I hear the flash of fire when he turns the knob for the stovetop. I don’t want to think about the actual kitchen, not tidy based on the condition of this room, but
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I won’t let my brain wander to the disgusting mess it wants to conjure either.

The condition of the living room didn’t improve overnight and the sight makes me grimace. I could clean his apartment while he’s at the office, or I could just go into the office myself. Clothing would be an issue, as in I’d need some. Charlie is about the right size, as long as it were sports gear, a T-shirt and jogging pants would see me to the car, though not exactly office-wear.

A clothes basket full of clothing beckons from the hallway and I quickly identify by sniff as it being fresh laundry, not dirty. A quick rummage sees me dressed for the day, granted I’m forced into making quite a fashion statement. Shorter and narrower than me, Charlie’s clothes fit but barely. I pull on a tight, light blue T-shirt, with a slogan that reads, “Your mother called, she says you’re gay.” I really don’t understand gay humor but the shirt smells clean so I keep it on. Shades of grey camouflage shorts that hit just above my knee and black army boots complete the ensemble. Luckily, we wear the same size shoe.

“Pancakes are ready.”

I didn’t look in a mirror but manage to smile when I see Charlie’s startled expression. “Do I look okay?”

“If I wasn’t gay I’d take my clothes off you faster than you just put them on. How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You’re amazing, you’re beautiful. Even red-rimmed eyes look good on you.”

I laugh, Charlie always manages to make me feel better. “So, after pancakes, can I hitch a ride with you to the office?”

He looks me over after I follow him into the kitchen. “Are you sure you want to go to the office?”

“Look, I know I’m not dressed like a CEO, but I’ll hide in the mailroom, or I’ll make copies for you and get your coffee like I used to. It will be like old times,” I promise. The ringing phone interrupts his answer.

“We make an idol out of our fear and call it God.”

-Ingmar Bergman

Thomas

She ran out, not understanding that Garrett was demanding me out of his sight, not her. One thing is for certain, the girl moves fast when she wants to. I can’t believe we lost sight of her. How do you lose a naked girl in downtownSan Francisco ?

How did
I
lose her?

We’ve had all night to think about Kitten in downtownSan Francisco , unescorted, naked. I close my eyes and rub my face. My jaw hurts where Garrett plowed his fist into it right after he realized she was gone. Luckily, the front entrance security team was there to pull us off each other until our heads cleared enough to think. Both of us could have handled this so differently. If only we would have.

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Garrett has been to her house, the penthouse, and my beach house, leaving a security post at each place in case she did show up. Watching him sit on the leather sofa, face buried in his hands with fatigue and worry, I don’t have the heart to tell him that if she’s hidden herself as well as she’s capable of, we won’t see her again until she’s ready for us to. She’s already proven she can disappear and stay hidden, for years if she wants to. That’s the worry I don’t share with Garrett—that she may be gone for good. I just don’t know how far this has pushed her emotionally, obviously not as far as her father and Lion pushed her, but far enough for her to run.

I make my last phone call, hoping for the best, calling
The Darkness
. The receptionist is a wealth of information. I determine that, when this mess is cleaned up and Kitten is home safe, a new receptionist will be needed. Hanging up, I announce, “Got her!”

Garrett looks up, fear making him pale. “Where is she?”

“Let me make sure, I think she’s at Charlie’s. He’s not at work,” I tell him, hitting speaker phone, dialing the number provided by
The Darkness
’ lovely receptionist. Tomorrow, I will tell Garrett to fire her for giving out personal information over the phone, but for today, she has been useful. Charlie answers on the third ring.

“You called off work today. Why?” Garrett demands, before I have a chance to say anything.

“I’m not feeling well?” he answers, sounding shaken.

“You’re a liar. She’s there, isn’t she? Let me talk to her!”

I touch Garrett’s arm to calm him, he won’t get anywhere this way. He glances my way, his brow creased in anger and determination.

“You threw her out, in front of everyone. Is it your personal mission in life to humiliate her on every possible level?” Charlie demands through the speaker.

Garrett spins away from the desk, not answering. Pacing to a wall, he slams his fist into it. I take up the conversation where he left it. “Charlie, this is Thomas Stephanopolis.”

“I know who you are.”

“Then, you will know that I am an important person in Kitten’s life and all I want to know is that she is safe.”

There is silence on the other line, not even background noise. He either muted or disconnected, but the phone status LCD shows we are still connected. He comes back on the line. “She’s safe.”

“Will she talk to Garrett?”

“She’s shaking her head no.”

“Will she talk to me?”

I hear his soft question, mouth obviously away from the mouthpiece. “Will you talk to Thomas?”

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Her voice, barely audible, comes over the speaker. “Are they together?”

Garrett returns to the phone, squatting beside me, calmer since hearing her voice. I know exactly how he feels. I answer, “We’re together, Kitten. Garrett’s been out looking for you all night and I’ve been on the phone calling every single person we know in an effort to find you.”

“Wait,” Charlie says. “Let me put it on speaker.” We hear the click over, the in-a-tunnel sound as he asks, “Are you there?”

“Yes,” Garrett answers, then repeats what he’d said for Kitten’s benefit. “We’re together, Kitten.

We’ve been out looking for you all night.”

“Together?” she asks, sounding full of disbelief.

“Believe it or not, Kitten, we were once very good friends.” Garrett says softly.

“Did I ruin that?”

Garrett looks at me, his look full of regret. “No, Kitten, I tend to ruin relationships all by myself. No assistance required. I don’t want to ruin this one. I’m in love with you. Please, come home. We’ll work this out.”

“I don’t see any way to work this out, Garrett. I’m screwed up in the head and I don’t know how to fix what’s wrong with me.”

Garrett starts to say something but I stop him, touching his arm, motioning for him to wait. Kitten’s voice comes across the line. “I want both of you. It’s horrible to say this, I can’t even believe I’m admitting it, but I want you both. I want you to share me. When I’m with only one of you, I still feel incomplete, something is missing—I want to be whole.”

I chuckle, wishing I hadn’t when the line goes silent. I wish she were here, not on the other side of the phone line miles across town. “Kitten?”

Charlie answers for her. “She’s here. She can hear you.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you. I don’t do that.”

“I know,” she whispers. “But do you understand what I’m saying? What I’m asking for?”

“What you are asking for isn’t unusual, Kitten, not here. Committed poly relationships happen. InSan Francisco it’s more acceptable than the part of the world you were raised in.”

“Kitten, this isn’t something we should be discussing on the phone. Come home. Let us come and get you,” Garrett interrupts.

“No!” Kitten’s voice comes over the phone line, panicked. It’s obvious to both of us that she’s crying, whereas a moment ago, you couldn’t tell that. Raw emotion floods the phone line. “When you two are in the same room, it’s a competition. I am not the prize! I just want to be happy with both of you. Why is this happening? I feel like I’m going to lose both of you and it’s killing me!”

Garrett looks at me and I look at him. We’re both feeling our own panic, we’ve let her down, she’s
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bottoming out and neither of us are there to hold her together.
Fuck.

I gesture for him to keep talking. He does. “I’m sorry, Kitten. I’ve been making decisions on emotion, and not even my emotion, someone else’s emotion, and I apologize for that.”

“Jackie?” she whispers.

“Yes,” Garrett admits, pacing away from the phone.

I lean closer to the phone, though it probably isn’t necessary. “Hey, Beautiful.”

“Lord Fyre,” she responds, her voice choked with emotion, just my name coming from her lips sounds painful.

“Jackie is Jackie. We all love her and, at times, we all hate her. When she wants to be a bitch, she is in the biggest way. But you need to know that the animosity she is showing you is only a projection of what she feels for me. She hates me, Kitten, and as long as I’m in the picture, it will hurt your friendship with her and it will hurt Garrett’s friendship with her. Until now, he’s been able to keep us separate. Now, with me seeing you, too, I’m in her face and she’s striking out at anyone she can.”

“Jackie isn’t part of this, Kitten. I admit, I behaved badly in reaction to what she was saying, but now that I know what’s going on, that she’s manipulating me, I can get a handle on it. The most important thing is getting you home. She isn’t part of this,” Garrett promises from across the room.

Kitten laughs and it is an ugly laugh. “Jackie and your friends are your life, Garrett! Everyone is a part of this. Everyone will be choosing sides, just like during the Kitten Sightings. I can’t take that kind of drama over this.”

“You’re right, Kitten,” I say. “Only the three of us united can keep this from being a fiasco of major proportions. There’s no room for jealousy or possessiveness.”

“What are you saying, Lord Fyre?” she asks.