Garden of Sins

39. Fuck, Isabelle

Carter

Something crawls over my hand and my consciousness springs to life, so I open my eyes. The brightness hurts my eyes and at first, I have no idea who or where I am. With my head pounding, I squint and gingerly look around. I feel like shit.

I am in a bare room. A light bulb dangles above me. Shit. Someone probably arrested me and I am about to be tortured.

Across from me is an old wooden chest of drawers, a drawer hangs crooked and on top is a handbag. Okay, not a torture chamber.

As I glance at the handbag, images and memories shoot through my mind. Hot.

And I understand.

I came up here yesterday with a smokin’ hot chick and she literally fucked my brains out. I don’t even know her name. I had epic sex and then I had an epic sleep. That bitch probably mugged me.

However, I still feel the wad of cash and my car keys in my pocket.

I’m lying on a single mattress on the floor. My back hurts like hell when I sit up and glance to the right.

There she is.

Ms. Unknown. She is lying on her stomach, her arms angled, and her black hair covering her face. She is still fast asleep.

Yes, she’s as hot as I remember. That’s good. Sometimes the next day everything is completely different than the night before. But no, her beauty was not the booze talking. She is beautiful.

I think about what she would say if I entered her now, but I don’t.

Instead, I lift and stretch, my back cracking. I step over her, but she doesn’t even move a little. What a silly little girl. I could do anything to her right now. What trust. First, I look out the window. My car is still parked outside the bar and a few cars go by on the adjacent highway. I let my gaze wander through the room and discover a black suitcase in a corner. I ask myself what such a delicate creature is doing in such a flophouse. This is actually no place for such a little princess.

I go to the adjoining door whose paint has flaked off and push it open. It’s the world’s tiniest bathroom, but that’s okay.

I enter and gently shut the door behind me before I proceed to freshen up. I wash my face and use the toothpaste on the edge of the sink to brush my teeth with my finger.

Finally, I try to get my hair in some order and look at myself in the mirror for a few seconds. Caden’s face flashes again in front of me and I gnash my teeth. No, I am not going home now. I’ve had enough of this. I’m fed up with all that crap, but I still need to know how he is doing.

I’ll call later to check.

But right now, I’m just going to leave the bathroom.

The chick is now awake and wearing my muscle shirt. As she gets up from the mattress, I see her for the first time sober and in daylight.

Holy shit, what a bomb.

Actually, I don’t like bitches touching or wearing my clothes, but my muscle shirt makes her even hotter. I don’t even notice how my head is tilting.

She ties up her hair as she checks me out. We look at each other skeptically for a few seconds. My instinct tells me she has something to hide but doesn’t everyone?

I know I should go now. I should walk out that door, go downstairs, and get in the car and drive away, like I usually do.

Instead, I hear myself saying, “Do you have a cigarette?”

She lifts the corner of her mouth and as soon as she has gathered a huge bird’s nest on her head, she moves barefoot across the wooden floor to the dresser. After rummaging through her purse, she pulls out and hands me a Marlboro soft pack. She then opens the single window and I sit down on the sill and pull up one knee.

The mild autumn air brushes across my naked upper body.

“Do you want coffee?” she asks as she rubs her eyes, under which some makeup from yesterday is still smeared.

“Do you have a light?” I sleepily ask. Again, she turns to her bag and pulls out a silver Zippo, and hands it to me.

I use it and lean the back of my head against the window frame as I blow out the smoke.

“So? Coffee?” she asks again more gently and rubs her upper arm.

“Hm,” and I nod. Coffee sounds good. Again, my gaze slides over her. A shiver runs through me as I recall an image from last night.

She smiles repeatedly, then turns away and goes to her suitcase. I look outside again when I hear her enter the bathroom and ru

I will not think about what I am going to do, I will let everything happen as it happens, but right now, I have to get my cell phone out of the car.

So I take another drag and push the thick smoke into the blue sky before flicking the rest of the cigarette outside and standing up.

Should I tell her? Why don’t I just drive away? Oh, yeah, fuck! I want to fuck her again, of course.

In black jeans and a thin black sweater, she emerges from the bathroom with a recently washed face and combed hair that falls in wavy curls over her back.

In each other’s way, I step aside and it tingles inside me because she is near. She chuckles and grabs the key.

“I have to grab something from my car,” I a

She hands me my muscle shirt. “I’ll get some coffee.”

“Okay.” I slip on the shirt and leave the room.

Wow, this place is not very welcoming. It looks like she rented a storage room that’s part of the bar. Maybe she works down there and that’s why she lives above it. I don’t like it.

I walk down the creaky wooden stairs. I vaguely remember the way to the bar, where nothing is going on right now apart from cleaning. The chairs are on the tables and sunlight floods the room. It smells of stale smoke even though the windows are open and an elderly lady, who doesn’t pay any attention to me, polishes the counter. I do not pay attention to her either. I don’t want to exist for anyone right now.

I open the door, step out into the fresh air, and walk to the car, gravel crunching under my boots. I have no idea how I ended up here. I just drove.

As I open the car, I glance up at the window I was just looking out of.

What am I actually doing here?

I don’t want to think about that right now. My cell phone is in the center console and when I pick it up, I realize I missed some calls. Pain pierces my chest. Dad, Dad, Dad, Mom, Mom, Mom, Ava, Ava, Ava. I swallow and lean against the rear door with my butt. I need to know how Caden is doing.

A cold shiver runs through me as I think of the cracking sound that came from his head banging against the asphalt. God, I hate myself for that. So much.

I can’t deal with Dad or Mom right now, so I call Ava.

I close my eyes and let the fucking sun shine on my face while I wait for her to pick up. She answers after the second ring. “Carter?” she asks directly.

“Yeah.” It comes out rather hoarse and I can hear Ava sighing hard.

“Are you okay?” she asks first. Who gives a damn how I’m doing?

“How’s Caden?”

Ava stays silent for a few seconds and my heart beats faster. “He’s fine. He was in the hospital and was discharged yesterday. Now he’s upstairs resting,” she says objectively.

With a relieved groan, my head falls backward. “Okay.” The main thing is that nothing worse happened to him because I would never have forgiven myself for that. In the moment of intoxication, you don’t care about anything, but that changes quickly when you sober up again.