Rewired (The Progress Series) (3 page)

“Nine ball, corner pocket.” Calling out each shot beforehand, he sank four stripes in a row before he fouled.

“Ha! Rookie.” She laughed and retrieved the cue ball from the hole on the side of the table. She threw it up in the air, fixing her eyes on Jesse’s. His head cocked to one side, trying to read her expression. As the ball quickly descended, her hand swept across and caught it at her waistline. If Jesse had blinked, he would have missed it.

“Softball, nine years.” She flashed a grin.

“Really? You played softball?”

She giggled. “Yeah. I couldn’t get myself around the bases very fast, but I crushed the shit out of that ball. Every time.”

“What position did you play?”

“Pitcher and first base. I coached for a couple of years, too. I called our team The Ball Snatchers.” She smiled and set the cue ball down to take her next shot. Looking back up, she said, “There’s a lot you don’t know about me. An entire lifetime, really.”

“Like what?” he asked.

“My birthday, for example,” she lightheartedly replied. “My phone number, my middle name, my favorite movie...” She shrugged. “You hardly ever ask me about, well,
me
. I’m not bothered by it much. But it occurred to me the other night that you barely know who I am.”

What else do I need to know?
“Go on, I’m listening.”

She laughed, positioning herself for the shot. She tapped the solid 1 ball and it glided gently into the side pocket. Glancing back up at Jesse, she recognized his eager expression. “Oh, I don’t know, Jess! There are just some basic things about me that you’ve never asked.” She waved her hand, dismissing any inclination that it bothered her. “I mean, did you know that I have a sister?”

Whoa.

“Really? You have a sister?” His eyes shot open and he bit his lip, smirking.

Bending over the pool table, Charlie looked up at Jess and laughed so hard she missed her shot. More annoyed at that than his insinuation, she replied, “Get it out of your head. Stay away from her.” She giggled and teasingly slapped his ass while walking by him. “Your turn.”

“I know, I know. I’m going.”

“No, your turn to answer some questions.”

Chalking up his cue, a deep crease riddled his brow. “What do you want to know?”

“How about your middle name?”

He smiled. “You’re gonna laugh.”

“Oh no, is it like Herman or something?”

He shook his head with a smile. “No, it’s James.”

She shrugged and wrinkled her nose. “Why is that so funn—Oh!” She giggled. “Jesse James.” Shaking her head, she snorted and quickly covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter.

Wetting his lips, he flicked his chin up twice in succession. “Laugh it up.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” she added quickly. “So can I ask another question?”

He tensed and bent down to line up his next shot. “Go ahead.”

“You once told me you were in the foster system…”

He took his shot just as the words left her lips, and the cue ball flew off the table, cracking onto the cement floor. He tried to act casual and laughed it off. “Oh, no, no, no, Charlie. You’re coming on too strong with the psychological overkill. Patience, baby. Patience. You’re not going to
cure
me that quickly.”

She shrugged and smiled. Nodding, she replied, “Okay. Maybe another time, then.”

Surprised and relieved that she let the subject go so easily, he exhaled in appreciation.

Jesse and Charlie spent the day smiling, snickering, and trying to show off in front of each other as the afternoon quickly turned to twilight. They played a total of twelve games of pool that day, and Jesse won seven of them.

*

“What are you thinking?” he asked as Charlie shoved her phone into her purse, slinging it over her shoulder.

“Nothing, why?”

“You keep checking your phone. Expecting a call?”

“Oh, not really.” She gave a tight smile.

“Right.” He clenched his jaw.

Walking toward the glass door, she called back, “Don’t forget your wallet.”

Jesse dashed back toward the bench as Charlie reached for the handle. The door swung open as two men entered the billiard room. “Oh, sorry.” Charlie’s courtesy smile vanished when she smelled the liquor on the men’s breath. Her body language shifted, and she was now standing with her head down, trying to move around them to get out of the room.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The man wearing a Vikings jersey stepped in front of her, blocking her exit.

Jesse’s agitation switched to torment as he turned to the sound of the stranger’s voice. Every muscle in his upper body clenched as his defenses kicked in. He grabbed his wallet and wedged it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Don’t even think about it, buddy.

Charlie smiled uncomfortably and went for the handle again.

“Hey, where you goin’? No need to rush off.”

Goddamn it! Look at her one more time and I swear—

The man went to touch Charlie’s hair. “I love a juicy redhead,” he snorted.

Before he could touch a single strand of hair on her head, Jesse grabbed the man’s hand and cranked his arm around his back, bringing him to his knees. Like he had done it a thousand times before, Jesse’s reflexive instincts kicked in, working swiftly as his senses heightened. He wrapped his hand around the back of the man’s neck and forced him down to Charlie’s feet. “Say you’re fucking sorry! Now!” Jess growled.

“Hey!” the other man said, taking a wobbling step forward.

Jesse’s pupils dilated and his stare was crazed. “Don’t. Fucking. Move.” His head snapped back toward the man on the ground. “Say you’re sorry!”

“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Jesse stood upright with a bounce, fixing his crooked shirt. He looked around the room for Charlie, but she was gone.

The man behind the counter of the store was on the phone, trying to avoid eye contact with Jesse.
The police. He’s calling the police. Fuck!

Jesse tore out of the store and ran toward Charlie’s car. Not seeing her in the driver’s seat, he visually scanned the parking lot. The muffled noise from the cars on the street became unbearably loud as the tinny sounds bounced from the lampposts and stuccoed walls of the mall, into his ears. His heart rate shot up as his panic rose, fearing she had left on foot.

A few steps further into the lot, he heard a noise from behind him. Charlie was leaning against the back bumper of her car, sitting on the ground. With her palms on her forehead, she looked up when she heard Jesse’s steps.

“Are you—” he started.

“Fine. I’m fine.” She stood and faced him. Taking a few seconds to think of what she should say, she finally spoke. “Did you think I
needed
saving back there?”

Of course you did! Did you see those guys?
“No.”

She looked up at the darkening sky and arched her back, appearing as though she wanted to say something profound. But all that came out was a stern, “Get in the car.”

*

Ten minutes into the car ride home, Charlie spoke the first words. “I want you to start taking your meds.”

“What?” he asked, jerking his head toward her.
Are you kidding me?

“Would you like me to repeat myself?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s none of your business whether I take my meds or not.”

“You’re right, it isn’t. In fact, I’d even go so far as to say that it’s rude of me to mention. I’m assuming that your asinine behavior back there has something to do with your daddy issues and your mania. Right, I’m
way
off base thinking you need anti-psychotic medication; it’s
absurd
.”

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest.

“God, you really are still a little boy sometimes, aren’t you? Just man up and take them. At least then we can rule out any further outbursts, like the one I just witnessed, on the lack of you being able to control your temper while unmedicated.”

“Well, too bad. I don’t have any. I ran out a few months ago.”

Charlie nodded and smiled. “Well then, I think it’s time you call your doctor.”

“Fuck you, Charlie.”

She laughed and turned into the parking lot. “If you think I’m going to spend another minute with you when you’re off your meds, think again.” She parked the car and Jesse hopped out immediately, trying to walk away from the conversation.

Stepping out of the car, she grabbed her purse and quickened her steps to catch up with him. “Don’t be such a baby about this, Jess.” She grabbed his arm and he jerked it away, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

“Don’t fucking touch me, bitch.”

She pushed him up against the wall in vengeful retaliation. His back bounced against the sheetrock and he let out a grunt. Her eyes were a fierce blue and she showed no remorse for cracking his head against the wall.

Placing her forearm over his chest, she whispered softly, “That’s the last time you call me a bitch. Are we understood?” Her temper cool and collected, she remained calm, allowing her words to drip with sensuality. “The immature, cocky bullshit may have worked a year ago when we both had the excuse of having minimal experience with people, but that ship has fucking sailed.” Jesse’s eyes widened in shock at the seduction in her voice. “The deal is this: you’re a danger to society, a goddamned head case. And if you’re a danger to society, then you’re a danger to me. And I just won’t have that, Jess.” Her mouth was now dangerously close to his, and Jesse could feel his erection brush against her thigh. She looked down, grinned, and let her fingernails lightly scrape the hair under his navel. “I’ve got two weeks’ vacation coming up,” she continued in a whisper, toying with his bottom lip, “and I was hoping we could spend some of that time together. Would you like that? Would you like to see more of me, Jess?”

Shit. This girl is crazier than me.

He swallowed and felt his jeans constrict as Charlie’s eyes flickered down to his lips. She brushed her nose against his labret as her warm breath circled around his neck.

Oh, god.

She smiled, pulled away, and walked down the hall toward her front door. “Think about it, Jess.” She waved her hand in the air behind her. “Have a good night!” she called out, followed up with a laugh.

The sun had melted virtually all of the fresh snow that had dropped the week prior, and spring was beginning to show herself. Robins chirped and perched on branches that were just beginning to form buds, and the wind was swift but warm.

The first two days without Charlie went relatively smoothly. Jess went to work and managed to harness all of his energy into the tasks the job assigned him. Menial at best, delivering fresh sand to the dunes at the golf course and spraying for weeds left him with a lot of time for reflection; but his pride and immaturity kept him from thinking he needed her.
After all, I went a whole year without seeing her, right? She’ll be back. She won’t last long without me.

The third day was a little harder. Roxanne, Charlie’s caretaker, had attached flyers on everyone’s doors stating that the front parking lot would be closed due to re-striping the stalls, which meant he’d have to use the back door. And using the back door would require him to pass the office—
and
Charlie’s apartment.

But he didn’t waver. He kept his head down and marched toward the stairwell, never trying to steal a glance at her, no matter how much he felt her absence.

The fourth day was shit.

The fifth day he began to grow weak. His parents still didn’t know he had moved back to the Twin Cities, and he wasn’t prepared for the kind of reunion his mother would plan if she knew. Lily was busy at the restaurant and he didn’t have any spending cash to go to the bar or buy more marijuana—of which his supply was running dangerously low. He had pawned his bike and his drums, so those two hobbies were definitely out of the question. With little to consume his time, he played a round at the golf course after work that afternoon, which brought him to the late evening before he arrived home.

He walked straight to his computer and clicked on his mp3 folder. As the trumpets and bass started, the Bosstones managed to lighten his mood, but only temporarily.

A constant flurry of thoughts flew through his head and he couldn’t manage to stay ahead of them. They began jumbling together, like one long run-on sentence—overlapping, colliding, and bouncing back and forth against each other.

She’s…what is she? Charlie is my foundation. Everything I’ve done in the past two years has been for her, to her, or because of her. I can remember seeing her; just a quick glimpse, sitting on the chair on the patio at The Crimson, all dressed up.
He smiled.
It was that stupid patio party. Her hair twisted, her dark eyes and pale lips, smoking a cigarette; trying so hard.

And what did I do? I brought a date. I’m such a fuck-up.  I can’t even remember that chick’s name. Shit, I can’t even remember what color hair she had. But I do remember Charlie. She looked incredible that night. Everything about her was incredible.