"Aren't you going to offer me a drink?" Winter asked. She looked innocently into her mug, then discarded it with a negligent toss onto my bed; the teabag flew free and oozed itself down my wall and onto my coverlet. A rivulet of tea dripped out of the mouth of the cup and slowly pooled at the base of my pillows. "Another drink?" she corrected herself. She picked up a novel from the arm of the chair. I hadn't read that one in years, why wasn't it on the shelf? She flipped through it and sighed, then flung it idly onto my coffee table.
Bring Me the Head of Prince Charming
skidded out of its jacket and fell to the floor.
"You broke in. If this was America, I'd get to shoot you." I paced the length of my apartment. It was a tiny flat. I could make only three and a third paces between the kitchenette and bathroom. There was a bright side: I was about to stop going gray. If I never got the girls back, I'd pull out all my hair.
"I would like a cup of tea."
"You have a kettle and a teapot downstairs." I scrolled through my contacts. I put the ringing phone to my ear.
"81 grand a year, dental, and 6 weeks paid vacation every year," Peter answered the phone with a smile. "And I'll double it if you can poach--"
"Call Alex," I said.
"What? What happened?" Peter's voice dropped. "What did you do?"
"Sam and Max were freaking out. Alex went to go check in on them. She could use the backup," I said.
"There's something you're not telling me," he said.
"I've --," I began to say.
"Stop ignoring me!" Winter growled.
"There's another woman?" Peter's voice was colder than Winter's.
"Never for me," I answered. "Alex is everything I could ever need."
"And Max and Sam?" he asked dangerously.
"And Max, and Sam, all three together," I had to admit. "I've been luckier than I deserve. Than anyone deserves."
"It wasn't luck," Winter corrected.
"Yeah, you are," Peter agreed. "How was she when you last spoke to her?"
"Worried about Sam," I said. "Give Alex a call. I can't give her support right now."
"If she says one word against you," he warned, "
I'm
against you."
"If she said one word against
you
, we'd go to war."
"War it is," Winter said, her voice cold once again.
"Yeah, I hate liking you," Peter replied.
"I'm proud you like me," I said.
He muttered a goodbye, and hung up before I could reciprocate.
"Are we done now? Hmm? We have a discussion to--"
I made a "blah blah blah" flappymouth hand gesture at Winter. The apartment rocked in an angry gale. I didn't have Wayne's number. I floated a thumb over Jared Richardson's name. One press, one phone call. Would he--
My phone went flying as Winter backhanded it out of my grasp. It smashed against the wall over the stairs. I could've strangled her -- she had a long thin neck. I just couldn't bring myself to attack a woman.
Besides, I rationalized, would it even do anything to Winter? If the lights went out in those imperious eyes, would the wind die with them? Nobody would believe I'd fought a ghost, a demon, a monster.
I'd
be the monster - a raving lunatic with a dead girl on his floor. Where would I see those smug eyes next - cops? Reporters? Jurors at my murder trial?
"You've been rude, childish, and unhelpful."
"We're done," I told her. "I owe you nothing, and I have work to do."
Shit... My old cell phone was in one of my drawers, or maybe in one of the Rubbermaid totes. I needed to go get the SIM card from the wreck.
Winter grabbed the lapel of my coat.
"You have me at a disadvantage," she said.
"Yeah, you're free to leave." I yanked my lapel out of her grip.
"Look, the Girl did something too extreme. I tried to correct it, but you just
had
to fight me. I've made my correction, but you are still due a small favor," she said.
"I've proven to myself that I do not need your favors," I said. "I can take a better job. I can afford a better home. I won't settle for a lesser woman."
"No, I don't suppose you would," she nodded. She stepped back. To deny Winter was beautiful would be to look beneath her skin. She was petite. She was slim, strong, and striking. She spread out her arms, her translucent nightgown pricked up by the points of her tits. Her robe framed everything. A masterpiece. "The beauty of Alexa. The wealth of Samantha. The docility of Maxine."
"Their three most insignificant qualities," I declared. "Get your pasty frigid ass out into the snow."
I lifted her by her shoulders and deposited her out of my path. My phone was a wreck. I picked off the back plate and had to bend the busted metal to ease the card out of its dock. She stamped her foot down on my shoulder. I turned my head. Her sex was open and engorged. She wore only that flimsy robe and semi-sheer nightgown.
"You misunderstand. I give you Winter Miranda Fitzpatrick," she said, and gestured to herself. "
I
shall move on. The Girl is done with you. I promise the same."
"Yeah, your word means as little as your intentions." I slapped away her foot and headed for my closet. I ripped the cover off one of the bins. Video games and DVDs, cables and power cords, loose bits and broken board game boxes. Everything shuffled through. Nothing where I had left it. The bucket was as much a waste bin as it was storage.
"She is quite fertile," Winter said.
"Yeah, but will she make as good of a mom as Sam will?" I shrugged. "No second-bests."
"I leave when our debts are nil," Winter said. "All you do is prolong my time with you."
"Fine," I stood. She brandished a bright smirk on her pale lips. "I'll put down traps. Try not to rip out all of your hair when you get caught in the glue."
Her fingernail touched my jaw. "I am all you have left."
"Fuck that," I said. "I have my pride, my dignity, and my girls."
I said the words. I hoped I believed them. My stomach was ice. I kicked the tote and swallowed a curse. Fuck! I am such an idiot! It was probably still in the--
I stomped to the cupboards and threw open the doors. I ransacked the shelves, pitching boxes of pasta, jars of jam, and cans of soup out my way. Crash! Clang! Clunk! A tin of chicken noodle ricocheted off the base of my new coffee maker, collided with the door of my oven, and plummeted to the kitchenette floor. I dragged the three-kilogram bag of rice forward, shoved my hand in, and pulled out my old phone. No response. Dead. Fuck!
Wait! Maybe I had to charge it. I dashed over to my computer and plugged it in. Nothing. I didn't scream in frustration. I kept it in check with Winter watching. I wiggled the connection and hit my mouse. I saw a flicker of the red 'charging' LED. I couldn't get it to stay on. I ignored that my work emails were open at home. I jiggled the USB connection more.
"Put on some tea," Winter said. "Tell me what you want from your wife and I'll leave her mind as you like."
"Well, she needs to be three passionate young women who want me as much as they want our relationship to work." I bared my teeth.
"Not an option, even now. If you
must