Chapter 28

“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 indulge your hedonism, allow Winter to be the center of your love. A simple pure unwavering devotion. Submissive, eager, and loyal -- and a hunter of naive waifs. Each year she’ll procure a young, sensual, pliant beauty befitting of your station. She’ll share in your lusts as you use up, wear out, and throw away the prize at your whim. Imagine new face after new face after new face, fresh as Alex is today, gazing up at you adoringly until the day you die.”

“But they wouldn’t be Alex. Just the fresh faces of damaged, insincere prey,” I said through clenched teeth.

“You need to stop thinking of your desires. This is about what you deserve.” She settled back into my armchair. She crossed her legs and sat with perfect posture. “Now we can hash out the details. You have Earl Grey. That’ll be lovely.”

“You want more tea? Make it yourself. In your own Goddamned apartment!” I managed to get the cord jabbed in, and forced it to the left to keep the connection. Shit. I had to drag it out of its precarious position to put the damned card in it. I kept the swearing inside my head.

“Put that down and speak with me!” Winter bellowed. The apartment shook and I heard creaks and pops. I pulled myself up off the floor. “I am getting impatient.”

“Lovely,” I beamed. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

“What are you smiling at?” she hissed. Winter’s serenity was gone. I felt bitter satisfaction.

“You either bring my girls home--”

“What home!” she shouted. “No roots! No permanence! No women! What is this place!”

“It’s a starting point,” I smiled. “And it is home.” Or will be as soon as my girls get here, I finished in my head.

“There,” she eased. “I see the cracks now. You tell yourself that there is hope. Let the despair in and we’ll build you a new life.”

“And let you be free of me?” I scoffed. “You want to get out of here? Bring my girls back.”

“No,” she said with a smile. “I see why you’re so enamored with denial. Your face twists so delightfully at that word. No, I will never bring you those girls. No, I will always push them away.”

“Then they just need to push through you,” I said.

“Oh, please,” she laughed. “You know who you are. You know the small scrapings you have made over the last nine days are nothing. You know those girls are princesses. And you are no prince. Now, show your guest hospitality, offer her a drink, and heed my words.”

“Oh, no,” I shook my head. “I don’t own the place, see. Take up your order with the management.”

“Stop!” She rocked the apartment hard again. “Let’s finish this.”

“No,” I said. “Let’s take our sweet time. I haven’t even called you a bitch yet. I’ve got rounds and rounds left in me.”

I got the phone balanced and charging again. The apartment rocked. The howl of the wind began to sound in the walls. The phone slipped off the wobbly desk and the screen shattered on the floor.

“Shit!” I growled.

“Good. I choose what happens next,” she said. “I’ll forego the hospitality. Business only. Get over here, sit yourself down, and listen to me.”

“Why are you in a hurry?” I asked. The wind kicked again and she smiled.

“Oh, this old building? It’s hardly up to code,” she said.

“No,” I said, looking in her eyes. I just had to delay. I knew this would work.

I knew it would.

It had to.

I smiled. “No, it isn’t.”

“Daring as Alexa. Devoted as Maxine. Determined as Samantha.”

“You wish,” I laughed.

The wind kicked. The beams creaked. Her head swivelled.

The door burst open.

Alex was charging when she got to the kink in the stairs. Sam and Max ran up behind her. Alex’s boot, snow-covered and slippery, stepped on the broken phone and she tumbled backwards onto her friends. Max and Sam caught her by the shoulders and held her up at an awkward angle; I vaulted the railing and jumped six feet down to land on the step, between her splayed legs.

“Are you OK?” I hollered.

“No!” Alex said sharply. “You got my dad involved!”

“You didn’t answer your phones! I was worried!”

“What are they doing here!?” Winter nearly jumped to her feet, but she schooled her features and sat back down. The wind curled up the staircase and hammered me in the chest. I grabbed Alex’s waist. Sam was holding one of Alex’s shoulders, and grabbed the other one. Max released Alex, then threw herself bodily into the door and fought the wind.

“I got her,” I told Sam. She let me pull Alex up into a hug. Two bodies fought the door but the wind howled.

“This looks like a job for Team Girlfriend,” and Alex kissed me and spun out of my hug. She, Sam, and Max forced the door shut. Alex reached over Max’s hair and set the deadbolt.

They all turned and looked up at me. I was flying down to hug them all. Sam jerked back as I landed in front of them. Max bit her lip uncertainly. Alex grabbed Sam by the scarf and Max by the belt. She pulled them into our hug.

The apartment cricked and cracked. The wind howled.

“I was so afraid you wouldn’t make it!”

“We didn’t hear the phones ringing!” Alex frowned.

“Why didn’t you call my dad?” Max asked.

“I didn’t have his number,” I admitted.

“But you had my Dad’s,” Sam worried.

“Girl, I just slipped and nearly killed us all on his broken phone,” Alex said. She pushed out of the hug and stomped up the stairs. Sam thrust me into Max and charged after Alex.

“It’s bad out.” I didn’t know what to say. There’s always the weather.

“It’s warm inside.” Max kissed me. “Now, up.”

“Get out of his fucking chair...” Sam snarled.

“And come get my boot rammed so hard up your rancid frozen cunt that you’ll taste eggs!!” Alex enunciated, and raised her fists, set her feet, and squared her hips in a fighter’s stance.

“Maxine, put on some tea for everyone,” was Winter’s only acknowledgment of the girls’ presence. “I suppose I’ll have to show you all what you’re in for.” She looked calmer, stronger, and more confident. I grabbed Max’s hand.

“The bitch gets nothing!” Max snarled under her breath.

“Just the door,” I agreed. I turned to Winter. “They’re mine. You can’t stop me from loving them.”

“Oh, Gene,” she said tenderly. “I’d never give you that solace. Not after how you’ve been treating me.”

“Get out of his fucking chair...” Sam burned.

“It’s nobody’s chair anymore,” Winter laughed.

Alex’s face burned red, her lips peeled back from her teeth, and she dropped her fists.”It’s Gene’s!” she shrieked.

Winter shook her head. “He forfeited his throne, he forfeited her boon, and so he forfeited your love.”