After she goes back inside, I wonder why she’d lie about something as simple as who lives with her. I stop thinking about it entirely, though, when I see her literally dragging Travis out into the yard. She’s tugging on his arm, a playful smile on her lips, saying something that I can’t hear.
She’s wearing shorts. Tiny black ones that make her hips look slim and her legs look long. They’re paired with a striped tank top that accentuates her lush tits in a way that only real tits can be accentuated. It’s the first time since that day on the highway that I’ve seen her dressed so casually, in regular people clothes. The rest of the time, she looks more glamorous. Stuffier. Maybe even a little uptight. Like she’s not quite comfortable in her own skin. Or her own clothes, I guess. Seems like she’s who Tonin wants her to be, whether that’s who she actually is or not.
Eventually, Travis stops resisting and moves on his own. He takes off his hoody as Tommi goes to get something from that little utility building out back. I actually see him smile when she returns with a Frisbee.
They throw it back and forth for a few minutes, Travis more half-heartedly than Tommi, before he finally gets into it. And when he does, they seem to have a lot of fun.
Tommi bites her lip and zings one at Travis as hard as she can, her whole upper body twisting with the effort. It takes off at an angle and Travis has to dive to catch it. Through my open window, I hear a happy, high-pitched tinkling sound–Tommi’s laugh. It’s light and carefree and…childlike. Almost like he’s her kid and she’s getting to spend some treasured time with him. It obviously pleases her to see Travis engaging, something that isn’t always easy for kids with Asperger’s if I remember right from my research.
Travis braces his feet and sends the red disc flying back toward Tommi. It goes high and long, and Tommi runs backward to keep her eye on it until it drops enough to catch. I see the water hose strung across the yard and I see her backing right for it. I actually lean up in my seat, like I might be able to catch her, when I see her foot tangle in it and her body pitch backward. With an expression of shock, I see her arms flail and hear her squeal as she goes down. She rolls over, ass-end up, and then flops back on the grass. For a few seconds, I feel a little bit alarmed, wondering if she hurt herself, but then she sits up. Her face is red, she’s laughing so hard. She throws her head back, exposing her long, graceful throat and I wish with everything I have that I could be back there with her, enjoying her this way. The way no one but Travis gets to see her. The natural way.
They play for almost another hour before she glances at her watch and tips her head toward the house. I’m guessing she’s gotta get ready for her date with the criminal. Or take care of the woman in the back bedroom, if she didn’t as soon as she got home. As she walks across the yard, putting a gentle hand to Travis’s shoulder as she falls in behind him, I can see the disappointment on her pretty face. This is what’s important to her–Travis. That much is obvious. So why, then, does she stay with Tonin?
I don’t find an answer, which tells me it must be complicated. Probably involving a lot of things that even I can’t find out. Unless she tells me. But she’ll have to trust me if she’s going to do that.
At five minutes until seven, a limo pulls up in the driveway. No one gets out until Tommi comes down the sidewalk, and then I don’t even pay any attention who it is that does. She’s all I see.
Her hair is in a loose braid that falls over one shoulder. It’s messy, like someone’s had their hands in it, pieces falling out around her face. Sexy as hell, and goes with her strapless little black dress to make her look downright edible. Shit!
The slinky material falls from the peaks of her nipples straight to mid-thigh. It’s loose, but I can still see her curves move beneath the sheath as she walks. It almost caresses her hips and ass, and I wonder again about whether she’s wearing underwear.
The idea is hot as hell, but then I think about her dressing this way for Tonin and I just get mad. She’s wasted on him. He doesn’t deserve a woman like her and I can’t for the life of me figure out what in the damn world she’s doing with him.
The driver (I finally make note of) opens the back door and I see an arm reach out to take Tommi’s hand. Tonin no doubt. I grit my teeth and try not to think about his hands touching her in the dark interior of that limo.
I follow the car as it pulls away from the curb. Part of me wants to go back home. I don’t need to see this shit. But part of me wants to go, wants to see her. It’s like a freak show. After kissing her, after seeing her with her brother, after watching her carry an unknowable weight around when she thinks no one is watching, I’m determined to figure out the reason she stays. Because I know she can’t possibly want to. But I need proof. I need to know that his touch makes her cringe. I need to know that she’s wishing she was anywhere else, anywhere but with him. I just hope to God I see some. Surely I can’t be wrong about her. Surely the way she cares for that woman…surely the way she cares for Travis…surely the way she responds to me, I can’t be wrong about her. Surely.
Tonin takes her to a swanky restaurant, one with a wait list that’s months long. Turns out money talks, no matter how dirty it is. The only way I can stay even remotely close is to sit at the bar. The pain in the ass part, though, is that I can’t even drink since I’m driving.
What I wouldn’t give to be able to slam back a couple of shots to take the edge off.
I don’t dwell on why I’m suddenly so angry. I just watch for Tommi.
When they finally make their exit at a few minutes after nine, I hurry out to my truck, parked in a restricted spot down the street. I fight the urge to crumple up the parking ticket that’s waiting for me on my windshield. Instead, I just stick it in my console to turn in to the department when all is said and done. They can pay it, dammit.
Next, I follow the couple to an exclusive club that’s pretty well known for it’s…loose reins on its patrons. I know there’s no way in hell I’m even getting through the front door without a badge or a member to back me up, so I wait for Barber to get out of the black SUV that follows Tonin everywhere he goes before I approach.
“Can’t keep my eyes on her from out here, now can I?” I say with a crooked smile. Casual. Dedicated. Taking my job more seriously after his call today. That’s what I want him to think.
He stares at me with his bizarrely blank eyes–killer’s eyes, if I had to guess–before he nods once and turns to walk off. I follow him in, the two doormen, AKA high-end bouncers, nodding us in as we pass. I’m not surprised that Tonin and his goons are well known here.