Loverboy (19 page)

“Oooh,” she says as her eyes get bigger. “Anything goes?”

“Why do I get the sudden feeling that I’m going to really regret this?” I laugh.

She shakes her head at me as we head back down the main hall to the exit. “Don’t worry; I’m thinking of just a good comedy.”

“One that makes fun of cops?” I ask, opening the door for her.

“Not even one that makes fun of cops.” She smiles. “Like Adam Sandler?”

I nod. “He’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too.” She grins as we both trail down the cracked and worn cement steps. “So,” she says, glancing at me from the corner of her eyes, “since I’m a movie nerd, what is your favorite movie?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her, as we make our way over to my truck.

“That’s not a real answer.” She laughs.

“Then what is?” I ask, opening the passenger door for her.

“Your favorite movie,” she explains. “One that you could watch all day, every day.”

“When I was younger it was
The Good, the Bad and the Ugly,
” I tell her as she starts climbing into the truck seat. “Now, I would say it’s probably the same.”

“Big fan of Clint?” She asks, clicking on her seat belt as I prop myself against the door.

I nod. “Isn’t everyone?”

“No complaints here, but my brothers think that he’s overrated,” she admits.

“And, what’s your favorite movie?” I ask curiously.

“
The Goonies
, of course.”

“Which one is that?” I ask.

“Oh, what is wrong with you?” She asks.

“What?” I reply.

“You’ve never seen
The Goonies
?” She asks.

I shake my head. “Never seen any of the
Back to the Future
movies, either.”

“Did you grow up deprived?” She questions.

I shake my head. “No, on westerns.” I laugh as I close her door and join her from the driver side.

“Ah,” she says. “A family of cops so you watched all westerns all the time.”

I nod as I place the key into the ignition to fire up the truck. “You got it.”

“So, you grew up watching John Wayne and
Audie Murphy.”

“Of course,” I tell her. “I mean, what other movies were there?”

She laughs. “More than you know.”

“Maybe we could watch
The Goonies
or
Back to the Future,
” I suggest.

She smiles. “I would really like that.”

“How are you feeling right now?” I ask her as I stare forward at the road.

“I feel better knowing that he’s in jail, where he belongs right now.”

“But?” I say. “I can tell in your voice that there is a but...”

“I really wish I wouldn’t have had to have seen him,” she admits. “I never wanted to come face-to-face with him,” she pauses. “He has done God only knows what to me and before, I had no idea what he looked like. Now I
do. Now I have a face to put into the nightmares.”

“Hey,” I say, softly, reaching over for her hand. “There won’t be any more nightmares,” I reassure her. “I’m with you.”

She gives me a half smile. “What about the other guy?”

“Do you know how many guys are in on this case?” I ask. “I mean we have detectives crawling all over it. People are losing sleep, working days on end to catch them. I mean, these lunatics have caused a stir.”

She nods as she listens contently.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, Charlie,” I tell her, giving her hand a light squeeze. “It’ll be okay.”

She lets out a deep breath, as if she had been holding it in for a while. “I guess it’s just best to go on with life right now and not really think about them.”

I nod. “It’s okay to keep moving forward. You can’t let them control your life.”

She nods.

“Hey,” I softly say. “We got one; we’ll get the other.”

She looks over and smiles. “I hope so.”

- 9 -

Charlie

By the time we make it back to my apartment it’s both later and colder than we expect. I pull my jacket around me as Nick fumbles with the keys to unlock the security door. As he opens the door, we both run inside, letting it slam and lock behind us.

“Cold?” He asks.

“More like froze,” I tell him as we start up the stairs. “What happened to fall?”

He smiles as he begins to unlock the door to my apartment. “Winter can come quick,” he says, stepping in before me to turn on the lights and have a quick look around. He gives me a nod and a smile as I walk inside.

“I’m just going to brush my teeth and change,” I tell him, slipping down the hallway.

He gives me a nod as I can only assume he’s set off to change himself. I end up brushing my teeth twice and rinsing more than the recommended times with Listerine. Even then, I can’t shake the dirty feeling in my mouth. Or all over my body for that matter. I brush my hair out and tug it up and into a messy bun before running down the hall to my bedroom. I throw clothes here and there in search of something both comfy and warm. Yoga pants, a tank top, and a cozy open sweater seem to be my best choice. I pull them on and give myself a quick glance in the mirror to make sure that I don’t look too terrible. Despite the circumstances, and what I’ve gone through, I am supposed to be dating him, right?

When I return to the living room, I see Nick has changed into a pair of sweat pants and a sleeveless tee shirt. He’s standing at the balcony and staring contently out the large window of the balcony doors. For the first time, I can very visibly see his tattoo. I quietly make my way over to him and gingerly touch his tattoo.

“You should be proud to show it off,” I tell him. “It’s
beautiful, with an even more beautiful meaning.”

Without a word he spins around and throws his arms around me, nearly knocking me off my feet. I can feel that his warm body is beginning to shake as he squeezes me into him.

“Nick,” I say, “what’s wrong? Did something happen?”

I can feel him shake his head in reply as he pulls me to him tighter.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel his chin now rest tenderly on my head as his body continues to tremble. “Nick, really, what’s wrong?”

I step back a few inches, enough for me to look into his eyes, and I can now see they’re red and streaked with tears. A chill runs down my spine as I bring a hand up to his cheek, wiping away at a stray tear.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“I haven’t felt like this since,” he pauses and brings his hand up to my collarbone where I still have a visible mark. “My sister.” I can feel his finger tip shake as he tenderly traces where the large cut line once was. “And,
tonight, when I saw your reaction and I saw him. I feel like it’s more personal now than ever.”

“But, Nick,” I start.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t plan any of this. Between you and me,” he tells me.

“It just happened,” I say. “Something good that came from something really bad.”

He nods. “I just feel that I need to protect you even more,” he says. “I’ve gotten really close with you over this month, and I know that I have fallen for you really hard.”

“Well, you know I have, especially since the last thing on my mind was finding someone to date,” I admit, smiling.

“So hard, that I can say that I love you, Charlie,” he says, letting out a deep breath and running a hand down his face.

I feel taken aback for a moment and take a deep breath. I look into his eyes. There’s no denying just how sincere he is. At the same time, there’s no denying just how I feel,
too. I finally smile and lean in to wrap my arms around him. I feel his shaky arms move around me and hold me securely. I reach as far as I can, moving my lips next to his ear. “I love you, too.”

I feel him let out a long sigh as he pulls me in closer. “I’m sorry,” he tells me.

“For what?” I ask.

“Crying.”

“When I’ve been crying on you for how long?” I ask. “That’s nothing to apologize for,” I tell him, pulling away slightly.

“I feel ridiculous, though,” he admits.

I smile. “But, why?”

“Because men really don’t cry,” he jokes, taking a minute to run his hands down his face again.

I nod. “Real ones do.”

He smiles wide. “I think I’m going to go wash my face.”
             

I nod. “Okay, I’ll start pulling some movies out,” I tell him, and head off to, what I like to call, my movie closet.

As I shuffle through the various shelves of Blu Rays, DVDs, and the even old VHS tapes, I can hear the water running in the bathroom. I slowly drop to my knees and begin digging in the lower shelves for
The Goonies
and a few other classics I’ve grown to love. After all these years you would think that I would learn to alphabetize my movie collection and make things easier than digging through over 1,000 cases in search of the exact ones I want. My idea of organizing my massive collection was turning the large hallway closet into, literally, a mini Blockbuster of sorts. I hear the bathroom door and
his footsteps come down the hallway.

“What are you doing?” I hear him ask.

“Looking for my movie,” I say, as I feel the door move back farther.

“How many movies do you have?” He laughs.

“It’s my guilty pleasure, okay?” I laugh. “I told you, I really am a movie nerd.”

I can feel him squat down behind me as he pushes up my tank top to touch the tattoo that has now been exposed. “This really is beautiful. How many hours did it take?” He asks.

I glance just over my shoulder. “Almost forty hours of laying in the chair,” I say.

“Brave woman you are,” he says, his eyes now returning to their normal shade of green. “And, on the back too.”

I nod. “Yeah, it did hurt. But, I needed the space.” I laugh as I finally pull out
The Goonies
.

“Do you regret it?” He questions, tracing his finger along the wings as I adjust more to show him the skin ink.

I shake my head. “Never will.”

“Plan on getting any more?” He now runs his finger down the bird’s body and to
it
’
s talons.

“I think this will be my one and only,” I admit. “But for the time and money put into it, it’s enough.” I glance back at him. “Ready for that movie?” I hold up the blue case for him to see.

“So,” he says, taking the case as he helps me off the floor, “this is
The Goonies
?”

I nod. “That would be
The Goonies
.”

“And, it’s not a chick flick?” He asks.

“Read the back if you doubt me,” I tell him, making a face.

“Alright,” he says, “I believe you.”

I give my tank top and sweater a quick adjustment before taking the case back from him and trailing into the living room. “You want some popcorn?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says, “but, you better make it. I might very well blow up the microwave or burn the popcorn.”

I laugh. “It’s popcorn; it’s easy,” I tell him, digging in an upper cabinet for a plastic wrapped bag of microwavable popcorn.

“Yeah, easy for other people,” he says, leaning on my open bar counter.

“How can you possibly burn popcorn?” I ask, peeling away the plastic and tossing it into the garbage.

He shrugs. “Cooking it too long, I assume. I never know when to take it out; most of the time, I’m not even paying attention.”

I laugh. “Well, since you’re supposed to listen for the popping to slow down, you need to pay attention,” I say. “C’mon, it’s not that hard.”

“Want to bet?” He asks. “You ask my mother. She can tell you just how many microwaves I’ve blown up.”

I smile. “Come here,” I tell him.

He walks over and begins to watch as I unfold the bag of popcorn and lay it flat in the microwave. “The trick is just listening for the popping to stop. I just put in some random time and listen,” I tell him, dialing four minutes into the microwave and pressing
Start
.

“And, what happens when you’re just a shitty cook?” He laughs.

“Well, you’re learning, and pretty soon you won’t be a shitty cook,” I say, as the butter begins to simmer and the popping begins.

I see him listen intently to the simmering and popping
noises as a few minutes in they begin to slow and ease up. He smiles. “Now, I think I may get it.” He laughs.

I smile and hit the
Stop
button as I open the microwave and pull out the steaming bag. “See? All you have to do it pay attention to me, and you will be cooking circles around me in no time.”

“Well,” he starts, passing me the popcorn bowl, “it might help that I do have a better teacher now.”

I feel my cheeks flush. “It’s just popcorn,” I tell him as I dump the entire bag into the red and white popcorn tub.

He shrugs. “Ever smell burnt popcorn?”

I nod and laugh. “I have all brothers, remember? I’m pretty sure their total of blown up microwaves will beat yours.”

“See,” he points out, “it’s not just me.”

I laugh as I wad the popcorn bag into a ball and toss it into the trash. I click the kitchen light off as we both trail into the living room and nestle into the couch. I reach for the remote and click on the TV. It’s set on a local station, and a news alert is on with bold letters at the bottom stating ‘Breaking News.’ The dark haired news anchor is standing outside, wrapped in a tan coat, with police lights flashing all around her. I give the screen a closer look. It’s about Loverboy, and even before this I have come to realize that I will be constantly seeing headlines about these men on the news. It was something that I was going to have to accept until both men were apprehended. But, this was something that I never expected. The headline flooded the TV:
.
Bodies of the 7
th
, 8
th
, and 9
th
Loverboy victims have been found. My eyes become glued to the TV as I stare in disbelief.

I feel Nick’s hand come down on top of mine and the remote. “Charlie, you don’t have to watch this.”

“I know.” I say. “I just. I can’t believe it. Three more.” I look over at him with a gaping mouth and questioning eyes.

“I wish I had an explanation for this,” he says. “I wish that anyone in this city who’s gone missing returns home safely. There’s no excuse for this.”

I nod and fix my glare back on the TV.
“It’s being reported that all three women were found lying next to one another. Nude, but perfectly clean. It’s currently also being rumored that among the bodies were notes from Loverboy.”

I give my head a shake. “Why?” I ask. “I just want to know why this shit happens?”

“With good comes evil,” Nick says.

“But, this is,” I point to the screen. “Shit like this surpasses evil. How can people do this?” I say, dropping the remote into my lap and placing my hands over my face.

I feel Nick’s hand come down on my back. “It’s not fair that anything like this happens to anyone. And, it should never happen in the first place.”

“Then why does it?” I say. “That’s three more innocent women, probably in their late teens whose lives have been cut short, because two men are insane.”

“You know,” he says, rubbing my back, “we did get one.” He reminds me. “Maybe his partner has gotten the scare of reality that he’ll be caught soon too.”

“So, he goes and kills all the girls that he’s holding?” I say as I look up again.

“He may feel the need to be getting rid of evidence and clean up his trail,” he tells me. “You know it’s not going to be long before his partner is talking.”

“But, all these women,” I say.

He nods. “I know. And, there’s been worse, and there will be more killers out there,” He tells me. “Jack the Ripper, the Green River Killer, Son of Sam. The world has its crazies. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”

I rub at my eyes and look back at the TV; a story like this will be running all night. And, I can’t help but to think how excited the reporter probably is that she got to report headline news. I shake my head. “Find him, Nick. Find the other guy,” I say, turning to him.

He leans in and wraps his arms around me. “I will.”

“I just want him behind bars with his little friend,” I say. “Then, nothing like this will be on the news.”

“Why don’t we just watch the movie? Like we planned.”

I pull away and stare at him.

“I know it won’t make you feel better about tonight, but it may take your mind off things for a while,” he says. “And, you said so yourself, it is your favorite movie.”

I take a moment to think, and finally give in by clicking a few buttons on the proper remotes to get the movie started. I lean back into the couch and let out a long breath.