Catching a Fallen Starr Page 11

  It was pitch black out, and visibility sucked. “Is that hail?” Starr shrieked white-knuckling the dashboard. “I said SLOW DOWN SAWYER!”

  Right as the words fell from her mouth the Jeep hydroplaned. The tail end spun around. I held steady and went with it until I could straighten her back out. I looked over at Starr and could help it; I burst into laughter. If she held on any tighter, she would run the risk of ripping the dashboard out.

  “It’s not funny.” She glared over at me. “You are such a horrible driver. I don’t, by the way.” She propped her feet up on my dashboard; her nasty, ratty converses getting dirt everywhere.

  I raised a brow in question. “Don’t what?”

  “Trust you.”

  I clenched my jaw. “You know what, why don’t you suck my dick? You seem to have no problem sleeping...” I almost said bitch but thought better of it replacing it with, “...Witch. I seem to recall you snoring and drooling all over my leather seats. I must not be that bad of a driver if you’re comfortable enough to sleep.” I smacked her feet off the dash. “And would you stop putting your shit all over my Jeep.” I waved a hand over her ponytail-thingies and trash littering the console. “You would think you were moving in to stay.”

  “I’m not a witch.”

  No. You’re a bitch. “What else do you call someone into horoscopes, bad omens, and moon rocks? I wouldn’t be shocked if you made a voodoo doll and called it Sawyer so that you could jam it full of pins.”

  She focused her attention out the window and said, “You don’t know me.”

  “I don’t want to know you. I just want to get us back safely.”

  “Watch the road. Not me.” There’s a clunk, clunk, clunk—the Jeep tires riding those little reflectors that keep you from falling asleep and accidently driving off the road. I jerk the steering wheel to the left and shout, “back off! If I needed a back seat driver…I would have put YOU in the back seat.” I paused. “Now there’s a thought.” I hook a thumb in that direction. “Why don’t you crawl back there and take a nap.”

  She flicks her gaze over a shoulder. “How can I? Some dumbass removed the back seat and forgot to put it back in.”

  “I didn’t forget. I had to make room for all your shit. Did you think this was going to be a vacation? It was a total of forty-eight hours, round trip, if that. All you needed was a change of clothes.”

  “You know what...never mind...you’re Satan.”

  “This coming from a girl who talks to Satan regularly.” I stare at her while keeping my eyes on the road, little does she know, I can multitask.

  Her gaze narrows furiously. “I’m not talking to you anymore,” she announces. “You’re toxic. It’s hopeless.”

  “Good. I’ve been trying to get you to shut your damn mouth ever since we got in the Jeep.”

  I hated that Starr made me feel a significant amount of lack of control. I hated what she brought out in me. Personally, I thought she had smoked way too much crack. But I had promised my brother. I thought about his wisecrack before the meeting: go sit beside the love of your life. If that were truly the case, you would see me on the nightly news being cuffed and charged with murder. Moody--that was what the chick was. “You know what Starr?” She made a sound of disinterest. Fuck that shit. “If you ever bought one of those mood rings...the damn thing would stay confused.”

  She flipped me the bird, reclined the passenger side seat and rolled away from me facing the door. Forcing my attention back on the road I cranked up the radio; not loud enough to wake up the dozing dragon but loud enough to keep me from nodding off while I was driving.

  “…You call me crazy I know it’s true

  But who wouldn’t go crazy for a girl like you

  I know I’m trying way too hard

  And that it’s never a good way to start.

  Forgive me while I try to forget all of the silly thing I just said

  Hold your horses let me explain

  Give me a second to step up my game

  I ain’t out here looking for no ordinary love…” played through the speakers.

  After a while the yellow lines down the center of the road started to blur. With the heel of my hand I rubbed an eye socket. I couldn’t remember driving from point A to point B. I yawned and cracked my neck in an attempt to wake my drowsy ass up.

  I glanced over to the girl curled up in the seat beside me. Reaching over I gently shook her shoulder: “Time to switch.”

  She gurgled and rubbed her nose across my leather.

  Reminder to self: disinfect seats when you get home. The snoring resumed.

  “Hey, it’s your turn to drive for a while.” There was no response.

  I resorted to tickling her side. “Stop.” She swatted my hand away curling towards the door. The move caused the back of her shirt to ride up. I could see the beginnings of the pale crack of her ass, and what a sexy ass it was. Knowing it would irritate her, I reached over and ran my fingertip along the crack. She lifted her head and glared over her shoulder. “Would you fucking leave me alone.” She dropped her head back down and tucked her hands under her chin, mumbling, “Real mature.”

  I cranked the radio up as loud as it would go; full blast. Starr bolted upright. Her hands cupped her ears. After the disoriented expression of ‘where the hell am I’ wore off she turned her head in my direction. I smiled. “What’s wrong, buttercup? Can’t sleep?”

  “You’re a dick.”

  “You suck dick.”

  “You wish.”

  “It’s your turn to drive. That was the deal; I drive until I get tired, then we switch.”

  Wiping her eyes she asked groggily, “what time is it? I couldn’t have been asleep long.”

  “It’s three A.M.”

  She collapsed into her seat. “I want to sleep. I need to sleep.”

  “So do I. C’mon, Starr, my eyes are going crossed.”

  She brushed strands of dark hair out of her eyes and stared up at me; her cheek smashed against her hand. She looked so pathetic. Almost delicate. Almost sweet.

  A corner of her mouth lifted. “Yeah, but if I don’t sleep I become a real bitch.”

  I cocked my head. “Really? Been losing much sleep lately?”

  About that time lightning brightened the sky long enough for me to make out the vicious look in her eyes. She reached over and clamped a hand down on my knee cap. Tight enough the reflex was to jump. “Stop it.” I brushed her hand off.

  “I’m not driving while it’s pissing rain,” she said.

  “You don’t have a choice.” I pulled over on the side of the deserted highway, killed the engine, and turned to face her; one hand firmly on the headrest of her seat. Our faces were close enough for her to see my bloodshot eyes. “You can’t renege on our deal.”

  “I need a cigarette.” She jerked open the passenger side door and stepped out, slamming the door in my face. A flame touched the end of her cigarette, glowing in the darkness.

  Starr turned her back to the window.

  I sighed, rubbing both hands over my face. “You’re going to drive me insane, girl!” I beat the back of my head against the headrest a couple of times before getting out. I walked around to her side and shoved my hands in my pockets, waiting for her to finish her smoke. I was used to waiting on Sterling to finish a cigarette. Everywhere we went. He would say: I need a cigarette.

  Starr wiggled her legs as if the night air was chilly. I hated that my eyes briefly lowered to her breast to see if her nipples were hard. Starr stared up at me with her cancer stick stuck in her mouth. Real Sexy—her talking through a cloud of smoke. “Don’t say it,” she warned.

  “What?” I shrugged, scratching my jaw and leaning against the Jeep. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “But you’re thinking it.”

  She brought the filter to her lips; her eyes locked with mine. “What am I thinking, Starr?”

  “That a girl smoking is not attractive. I can see it on your face. That disgusted look.�
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  I was more disgusted that I looked at her tits. “Not my problem,” I told her. “ I don’t have to kiss you.”

  She snorted and made a show of taking a deep, long draw. Smoke rolled from her mouth. “Thank you,” she smirked. “You just gave me a reason to smoke.”

  Her remark pissed me off. “Glad I could help.” I reached around her to the door handle, cracking the passenger side door until it bumped her in the ass. “Move. You’re in my way.”

  “I’m not done yet. You can wait. It’s not going to kill you.”

  “It might.” I stared down at her, determined to pull the door again but all it managed to do was push Starr up against my chest. With my arm snaked around her waist I realized, I was playing a dangerous game. I couldn’t move. Seeing Starr that up close: her almost black hair hung in waves; a mess from her nap…I was captured. Her blue eyes seemed more intense whenever the lightning lit the sky over us. She was angry, and annoyed and breathing hard.

  One word: Incredible.

  If she wasn’t such a bitch, I might have kissed her.

  “You’re in my personal space,” she said.

  Sucking in air I desperately needed, I took two strides backward putting distance between me and the temptation. “Just put out the damn cigarette and let's go,” I spit, irritated with myself more than with her. Class. Training. Studying. Working out. Those were my top priorities or would be over the next year. I planned to devote my life to being the best. Someday, if I stayed smart and focused and well-disciplined I would make Dive Unit,--an honor only a few SWAT officers were offered.

  “All women love to fuck with a guy’s head. I don’t care who she is. What she claims. It’s in her. The ability to be the biggest bitch you’ve ever met. They’re all liars. You want to get somewhere in this life...keep a woman out of it.” My father’s words had merit.

  Starr flicked her cigarette butt out into the grass. Wiggled her legs and said, “I have to pee.”

  “Oh my God.” I dropped my face in my hands. We were never going to get home at pace we were going. When I removed my hands, Starr was walking down into the bottom stopping next to a couple of tall bushy wild flowers. She held up her skirt and squatted. “Don’t watch!”

  “I wasn’t,” I yell back. Ok, I was but it was too dark to make out anything remotely picture worthy. I opened the passenger side and worked on repositioning the seat as far back as it will go to accommodate my legs, thinking: nap time.

  Suddenly she was there, grabbing me from behind. A quick, sudden ‘gotcha”. I jumped...like a pussy. “I’ve decided,” she started while fixing her skirt.

  “What have you decided?” I asked unable to tear my eyes away from the thin strip of ivory skin showing between her skirt and top.

  “Since neither of us is thrilled about going without sleep, we should just suck it up and find a motel.” Starr glanced up at the sky and then back at me. “Maybe by tomorrow morning the rain will be cleared out, we’ll feel rested and be able to tolerate each other better.”

  Alone in a motel with Starr was suicide. Considering that I was hard from just seeing a thin strip of her naked flesh...a hotel wasn’t a good idea.

  “What do you think?” She nudged me. “Sawyer, are you even listening to me? Motel or do we keep driving?”

  “Motel,” I said.

  Of course, there was only one motel within fifty miles. A cheap nasty motel with one vacancy and one queen sized bed. It was my job to unload her shit. I suggested leaving it all in until morning but she insisted that she wanted a shower. So I stood in the fucking rain and watched in amazement as all her crap took a spill out of the back of the Jeep.

  Drenched, I held her bag out and dropped it by the chair, next to the princess’s feet. Starr looked from where I was dripping rain on the ugly brown shag carpet to her wet duffle.

  Bitch. Bitch. Bitch!

  Bending over she rummaged through the opened duffel coming up holding a T-shirt.

  “It’s wet, Sawyer.”

  I cocked a brow. “You think?”

  She inspected the shirt closer; front and back. “Why is there dirt and gravel all over it?” She picked through another stack of folded clothing. “It’s all dirty. What did you do? Dump it all out in the middle of the parking lot?”

  “Exactly,” I said, hiding a shiver from being damp and cold. Starr simply folded the T shirt, cramming it back in, her blue eyes snapping accusingly to mine: you did it on purpose. I shrugged a shoulder. “Someone forgot to zip the bag up before shoving it in the trunk. Who do you think would do something like that?”

  She pulled her bare feet up into her chair. Lit another cigarette, rolling the tip of it along the lip of the glass ashtray. “So I have nothing dry to put on?” she asked.

  I’d had enough. My inside jerked from the inadequate way she made me feel. I stalked toward where she was sitting in her chair, grabbed hold of the arms of the chair and turn it so Starr was facing me. I leaned in close praying to God I intimidated her. “You are not the one soaked and tired here!”

  She held my stare and inhaled deeply like I was the one with the attitude problem here. Then she did something that caused my blood to boil…she dismissed me. She rolled her fucking blue eyes and turned her head, taking a long drag from her cigarette. I don’t think her pulse rate ever changed from I-don’t-give-a-shit.

  Piss, piss, piss running down my leg!

  I was not that kid anymore!

  I straightened and stepped back with my heart hammering inside my chest. Lacing my hands behind my head, I paced. My fucking muscles twitched under the surface. I wanted to punch something. The fact that I had no control around her was the reason I avoided girls like her in the first place. I knew the girl had some serious issues. I knew it the first time I met her. Starr was not a ditz. She was street smart. Just as rough and tough and pigheaded as I wanted to be. She was damaged. I got it. I got that her trust in guys was shit. I got that she had heard enough dumbass lines to know a bullshitter when she saw one. I knew we were not going to be pals. I got that she had probably been fucked over more times than I wanted to know about. But still, even with all that I found myself wanting to beat the ass of every guy that had made her who she was—starting with my brother.

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew Starr’s opinion of me was already so low, there was no way I could redeem myself in her eyes even if I wanted to. I didn’t want to bond. I didn’t want to be a shoulder for her to cry on. All I wanted was some type of truce.

  “Ok, time out,” I said making the sign with my hands. I blew out all the aggression and tension she caused in me and squatted by her chair, asking, “Will you put the cigarette out?”

  She looked confused staring down at me practically throwing myself at her mercy. I gathered her hands in mine and swallowed hard before lifting my eyes to hers. She went to turn her head.

  Taking hold of her chin, I forced her to stay with me. “Starr,” I gentled my tone. “I’m going to explode if something doesn’t give and give real soon here. Whatever I’ve done or you think I’ve done to piss you off so badly...I’m sorry. No.” I turned her face toward me. “Don’t look away. I’m serious.” With sincerity, I said it again, “I am sorry.”

  “You’re hurting my hands,” she said.

  She was right. I noticed the death grip I had on her hands and immediately released them. I drug a hand through my hair; confused and exasperated. Resting my forearms on my legs to steady my balance I asked, “Can we find some way to get along until we get back to L.A.?”

  She looked like she was about to cry. Good. I was getting somewhere. Past that wall she’d placed between us; trying to show me there was nothing on the other side worth getting to. At that moment, staring up at her, I found myself wondering if maybe it was worth the effort. I had a strong urge to reach out and touch her. Slowly, I brushed my knuckles gently over her cheek, along her beautiful jawline, down her neck. I was fascinated with the spot on her throat where I could feel her pulse racing under
her milky complexion.

  She swallowed and said, “I’m sorry too.”

  “Ok.” I removed my hands from her and backed away, collapsing into the other chair by the table. I didn’t sit up. Instead I leaned forward elbows on my knees, head in my hands. After the heat drained from my face, I lifted it, resting my chin on balled fist. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.” She reached for her pack of cigarettes.

  I snatched them up before she could and slid the pack in the pocket of my wet slacks. “Give me a second to change and I’ll go see what I can find to eat.” Standing I started unbuttoning the wet dress shirt. I’d worn nice clothes for my brother’s meeting and was dying to get out of them.

  “Can I have my cigarettes back?”

  “Nope.” I shed the dress shirt and unbuckled my belt.

  “Why not?”

  I tugged the belt from its loops admitting honestly, “Because I might want to kiss you later.”

  ***

  I used the stomach of my t-shirt to transport our goodies back to the room. Supporting my bundle with one arm under the weight of it—the same way a pregnant woman holds her swollen belly—I viscously tear the wrapper off a snickers bar and bit off a huge bite. I chewed slowly, closing my eyes and moaning at the richness of the chocolate/malt/peanut combination. It had been a while since I allowed myself the empty calories. Man, sickening sweet is so good!

  When I returned to the room, Starr was getting out of the shower. Leaning against the doorjamb of the bathroom she blotted the ends of her wavy hair with one of the hotel towels.

  My gaze lingered, raking slowly over her soft curves. Why the hell I had always gone for blondes was a damn mystery. Until then I had never known that moody brunettes with olive skin and bright blue eyes was also attractive. The girl was breathtaking. I stood speechless. I did my best to hide the unexpected attraction.

  “Hope it was ok that I borrowed something from your bag.” She smiled, running one bare foot over the top of the other. Her legs…I refused to allow my eyes to linger too long on those legs; I tore my eyes away swallowing the last of the candy bar.