The Love You Crave dc-8 Read online

  “You do.”

  Moments later, the three of us are in the security room.

  “I need you guys to come with me to Chicago.”

  “When?” Joe says.

  “Now.”

  “What about George?”

  “How long’s he been in the freezer?”

  “Not even close.”

  I sigh. The plan is to freeze him solid, lift the freezer lid, and cut him into chunks right where he is, to keep the blood contained. Then we’ll put the chunks in plastic bags, place the plastic bags in laundry bags, and carry them to our cars, and scatter the pieces in various parts of the desert.

  “We can’t leave George unguarded,” Jeff says.

  “I agree. Joe, you stay. Jeff will go with me.”

  “How much should I pack?” Jeff says.

  “We’ll be back tonight.”

  “Give me two minutes.”

  I tell Joe to keep an eye on things.

  He nods.

  I call Lou. When he answers, I say, “You’ll be pleased to know I’ve got a job for you.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I need a jet.”

  “Where and when?”

  “I need to land in Chicago at four, local time.”

  “Today?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’ll need to leave by ten.”

  “That’ll work.”

  I hang up and immediately call my friends at Koltech Aviation in Las Vegas. Bob Koltech answers.

  “I’ll pay you sixty grand to fly me to Chicago and back.”

  “When do you want to leave?”

  “Right now.”

  “Are you here at the gate?”

  “No, but I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

  “Which jet do you want?”

  I notice another call coming in. I say, “The fastest one you’ve got.”

  “I’ll have her warmed up and ready to roll when you get here.”

  “Good man.”

  I click him off and click the next caller through.

  Miranda.

  “I’m so glad to hear from you!” she says. “Seems like a million years!”

  “Me too,” I say.

  “What’s up?”

  “I planned to fly you to Chicago to meet me around noon, Central Time, but my plans have changed. I’m heading there now. I appreciate you calling, but it’s not going to work at this point.”

  “Whoa, cowboy. You can’t get rid of me that easily. I’d love to meet you! Please? I’ll put a huge smile on your face!”

  “I could use a huge smile.”

  “I can be there by eleven. Maybe we can have lunch, spend the day together. And the night, if you’d like.”

  “I’d love it, but-”

  “Then it’s set. I know you’re busy, so I’ll book my own flight. Where are we staying?”

  “I don’t have a room. I was planning to head back to Vegas later today.”

  “No problem. I’ll text you my itinerary, and call when I get there. If we don’t connect, I’ll shop till I hear from you.”

  She makes a great case for staying in Chicago.

  “Sounds great. Thanks, Miranda.”

  “No,” she says. “Thank you!”

  After hanging up I head to the kitchen, look in the closet where Phyllis kept the party supplies from when she had birthday parties for her employees. Amid the gift paper, bags, tissue, and such, I pick a small box, place the ceramic device in it, gift wrap it, and stuff it in my pocket. Then I go to my safe and remove a suitcase that holds one hundred twenty thousand dollars in hundreds, and five thousand in twenties. Then Jeff and I head to the private airfield where Bob Koltech has our jet waiting.

  Normally I trust Lou to book my flights. But on the chance Darwin knows what I’m up to, he’ll get my itinerary from Lou. If Lou thinks I’m leaving Vegas at ten, Darwin will think so, too.

  I do lead a complicated life.

  42.

  Maybe Taylor.

  “How’d you do it?” Maybe asks.

  “You mean, why didn’t it hurt when I inserted the dilator?” Sam says.

  “Yeah.”

  “I injected you with Botox.”

  “ What?”

  “It’s a little tricky, and I had to study up on it. The whole purpose is to relax the muscle spasm.”

  “That’s the pain I felt in the middle of the night.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I had my jeans on. I felt them!”

  “Your jeans were on top of your legs.”

  “You’re an asshole.”

  Sam sighs. “The point of botox therapy is for you to wake up after achieving the hardest part, which is the insertion of a large dilator. When you see it inside you, as you did, your brain begins to understand this is something you can do. So that’s the first step.”

  “What’s the second?”

  “Training your vaginal muscles to respond to the dilator over time.”

  “How much time?”

  “Hard to say. Months, certainly.”

  “It obviously happened that once,” Maybe says. “But it couldn’t happen again. You don’t understand. No one does.”

  Sam starts to pull the sheet off her. She grabs it and says, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Check it out,” he says, giving up his grip on the sheet.

  She lifts the sheet and peeks beneath it. To her astonishment, the dildo is back where it was earlier.

  “Keep your fucking hands off my snatch!” she says.

  Sam assumes a defensive posture, with his hands up, guarding his face. He says, “I love you.”

  “You’re a degenerate. I never gave you permission to sexually violate me.”

  “I know you don’t find me attractive,” Sam says.

  “No shit! And it’s not just a matter of looks. You’ve got the whole ‘call me Daddy’ thing going on, and you’re way older than me, which makes it twice as creepy. You’ve made me a kept woman, paying for all these lessons and whatnot, and now you’re trying to collect a sexual payment for it.”

  “I won’t argue with anything you said. But whether you believe it or not, I’m a good guy. I’m incredibly smart, talented in many ways that can benefit you, and I love you. I’d do anything for you. Do you believe that?”

  “No.”

  “Put me to the test.”

  “You’d fail.”

  “Try me.”

  “Fine. Leave your wife.”

  “Are you asking me if I’d get a divorce?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you offering me anything in return? Anything at all?”

  “No.”

  “The answer’s yes. If you want me to, I’ll divorce her immediately.”

  “Call her.”

  “What, right now?”

  “Yes. With me listening.”

  “It’s seven-fifteen!”

  “So?”

  “You don’t know Rachel.”

  He shrugs, gets his cell phone, and presses a button.

  “Put it on speaker,” Maybe says.

  He clicks the speaker button.

  A woman answers.

  “Mmm?”

  “Rachel?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s me, Sam.”

  “Who?”

  “Your husband. Sam.”

  She yawns. “Where are you?”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you want? I’m trying to sleep.”

  “I’ve found someone else. I want a divorce.”

  “Is this a joke?”

  “No. I’m totally serious.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  The phone goes silent. As he’s about to hang up, she says, “Sam?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hope she makes you very happy.”

  “Thanks.”

  He hangs up.

  Maybe says, “She didn’t sound too broken up about it.”


  “She’s crying on the inside.”

  43.

  Maybe laughs. “You’re funny. In a non-comedic sort of way.”

  “Thanks,” Sam says.

  “Are you really going through with it?”

  “The divorce?”

  “Yes.”

  “I am. Rachel’s in love with someone else. I may as well let her get on with her life.”

  “And you just now decided this?”

  “I hadn’t considered her feelings till now. I was too angry at her for cheating on me.”

  Sam puts the phone on the nightstand and lies down beside her on the bed. She hands him the dilator. “I believe this belongs to you.”

  He puts it in his mouth.

  “Eew,” she says.

  He places it on the night stand and says, “I love you. I’ve loved you for months.”

  She’s under the sheet, naked from the waist down. He’s lying above the covers, fully clothed. They remain quiet a long time before Maybe breaks the silence. “I’m not going to be your girlfriend. You know that, don’t you?”

  He sighs. “Is it completely impossible for us to have a romantic relationship?”

  “Completely.”

  “What if we were the last two people on Earth?”

  “Even then.”

  “So it’s hopeless?”

  “Look into my face.”

  He does.

  “I will never love you.”

  “Can I ask why?”

  “There are too many reasons to list. But I want someone special, someone who makes me all giddy and girly. I want to have children someday, and a husband with a normal job.”

  “You’d be bored shitless.”

  “Maybe I would, eventually. But it’d be fun to live the fairy tale for as long as it works.”

  “Trust me, the fairy tale’s a myth. That’s why they call it a fairy tale.”

  “See? That’s another reason it wouldn’t work between us. You’re too negative.”

  “You’re right.”

  “You agree?”

  “Yes. But here’s the thing.”

  He pauses.

  “I’m listening.”

  “What if the world’s most perfect guy comes along, and you can’t perform?”

  “Sexually?”

  “Yes. What if there’s a point in your relationship when you want to give him everything, but you can’t, because of the pain, or the fear of pain, whether it’s psychological, physiological, or both. I can’t think of anything sadder than losing the man of your dreams because you can’t give him intimacy.”

  “You can’t, huh?”

  “I’m being serious.”

  “What’s your point?”

  “My point is when Mr. Right enters your life, you need to be ready for him. And what I mean by that is you need to feel comfortable. You need to feel confident about your sexuality, and there’s only one way that can be achieved.”

  “And what way is that?”

  “Practice.”

  Maybe bursts into laughter. Her whole body shakes as her laughter cascades from her throat and bounces off the furniture. Tears start to form in her eyes.

  “What is so fucking funny?” Sam says.

  “You’re the most manipulative bastard I’ve ever met!” she says, then laughs again.

  “I admit it. But that doesn’t make me wrong.”

  “Yes it does! That’s exactly what makes you wrong.”

  “Think about it,” Sam says. “Who could possibly be better to help you get through this? I’m the only man in your life who knows about your sexual issues, and the only person who’s managed to get you dilated without pain. I’ve followed every step of your treatment. I’ve seen you naked. I’ve touched you.”

  “Inappropriately!”

  “Yes! And that’s behind us, now.”

  “You’re insane.”

  “We’ve known each other nearly a year. I understand what makes you tick. I’ve invested more than a quarter million dollars turning you into the person you are today. And regardless of what happens, I’m going to continue employing and supporting you, if you let me. And have I mentioned I adore you? I do. And I love you, too, as you know full well. And the best part of all?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’ve told me how things are going to be between us, and how they’ll be in the future. And I’m okay with it! I’ll be the guy who loves you, takes care of you, talks to you day and night, for any reason, anytime you wish. I’ll be the guy who makes it possible for you to give yourself to the man of your dreams. And the minute you’re ready to do so, I’ll step aside.”

  Maybe shakes her head.

  “What?” Sam says.

  “I don’t believe any part of it.”

  “You know what?”

  “What?”

  “That’s okay too. But let me ask you this: what have you got to lose?”

  “Apart from my dignity and self-respect?”

  “Yes.”

  She thinks about it a minute. Then surprises him by saying, “Out of curiosity, let’s see what you look like without your clothes.”

  44.

  Moments later,Sam gasps, falls off her, rolls onto his back.

  “That’s it?” Maybe says.

  “For now. Sorry.”

  “Thirty seconds?”

  “What can I say? I was excited.”

  “Jesus. I thought, you know, an older guy?”

  “What about it?”

  “I thought that was the big thing about older guys. They’re able to hold out longer.”

  “Look. You need practice, I need practice.”

  Maybe gives a half smile. “That’s sort of sweet.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, being sexually satisfied is not what’s important right now.”

  “That’s easy for you to say.”

  “You know what I mean. The big news is we achieved having sex. Without pain.”

  “True. The problem is I didn’t feel anything at all.”

  “You must’ve felt something.”

  “I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

  Sam frowns. “Give me a minute.”

  “Why, you want to fuck me two more times?”

  “Funny. Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “Why won’t you let me take off your top?”

  “I’m a mess up there.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “I’m self-conscious about my breasts.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But that’s the point. You don’t have to worry what you say to me.”

  “They go in different directions.”

  “Let me have a look.”

  “You’re a pervert.”

  “Let me see.”

  She shows him. “See what I mean?”

  “These are great boobs. But yeah, I see what you mean.”

  “I can’t show these to someone I love.”

  “Someone who loves you won’t care.”

  “I’ll care.”

  “Then I’ll get them fixed.”

  “How?”

  “This is the simplest surgery in the world. Thirty minutes, tops. Two weeks recovery.”

  “What’re you, a plastic surgeon?”

  “No. But a few stitches on the inside here,” he points, “and here…and you’re perfect.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “Will the stitches show?”

  “No. They’ll be hidden under here…and here.”

  “Will it hurt?”

  “A little. But it’ll be worth it. To you.”

  “Thanks, Sam.”

  “My pleasure. And speaking of pleasure, I believe I’m ready, if you’re willing.”

  She frowns. “I suppose you’ve earned another shot.”

  He flips her over.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she says.
/>   “Practicing. Let me know if I hurt you in any way.”

  “Don’t worry, you’ll know.”

  He enters her, and the experience makes him light-headed. He pulls her back, so that she’s on her knees, and after a couple of minutes, he hears her moaning softly. He’s behind her, and she can’t see the smile on his face. Nor could she possibly know what he’s thinking at this very moment, which is, I’m fucking Donovan Creed’s daughter!

  When they’re done, he says, “Will you keep killing for me?”

  “Yes,” she says. “If you keep paying me.”

  “We make a perfect team.”

  “What on earth makes you think that?

  “You’re willing to kill for me, and I’m willing to die for you.”

  45.

  “How much are you paying the other girl?” Maybe says.

  “What girl?” Sam says.

  “The one who’s been taking my classes at Mabry.”

  “Twenty grand.”

  “For twenty grand the best she can do is a B-plus in biology?”

  “Like I said, the professor’s a dick.”

  Maybe laughs. “That’s what I told my father.”

  “You spoke to him?”

  “Of course.”

  “I thought you weren’t taking his calls.”

  “If I ignore my father too long, he starts checking around.”

  “You wouldn’t tell him about any of this, would you?”

  “Are you crazy? He’d kill you.”

  “Yes.”

  Maybe studies his face a minute. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell him?”

  “Should I be?”

  “Yes. If you ever displease me enough, you’re toast.”

  “Then promise you’ll never tell.”

  “I won’t promise that.”

  “Will you at least promise not to mention my name?”

  “We’ll see. Right now he thinks you’re a post-Rapture pet salesman named Chuck.”

  “You’re shitting me!”

  Maybe laughs.

  After ordering room service, Sam drives her home. Tries to kiss her at the door, but she puts her hand between their faces to block his lips.

  “We don’t have that type of relationship,” she says. “Remember?”

  “Sorry. I’ll check around, find the best doctor for the boob job. I’ll let you know when and where.”

  “We’ll have a meeting first, right?”

  “You and the doctor? Of course.”

  “Thanks again for that.”