I don’t feel anger. Not anymore. All I feel is sorry for the man who’s more like me than he realizes. He never asked for any of this any more than I did. We’re both trapped, victims of fate. Maybe this phone call will free us both. Or doom us. Only time will tell.
“Who is this?” Maisie says when the phone finally connects.
“It’s your friendly neighborhood porno police. We heard a rumor you’ve been watching Mormon based action where an ankle was scandalously visible during the climactic scenes.”
“Chloe!” she squeals down the line. “I’ve been so worried about you. Where are you? Whose phone is this?”
“I got a new one.”
“I’ve got your old one here. I picked up your handbag from the diner once the cops were done there. Where the hell are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine but I need you to do a couple of things for me.”
“Sure, anything. You’re all right, yeah?”
“Can you take Spock and go and stay at your dad’s place for a couple of days?”
“I’ve been feeding him, he’s fine.”
“You’re not listening. I need you to take him with you and go stay at your dad’s.”
“What? Why?”
“And tell Zeke sorry I’ve been out of work. I’ll explain it to him when I get back.”
“Get back? Where are you?”
“On my way home but I’ve got a couple of things to do first.”
“Talk to me.” I can hear the stress in her voice. “What’s going on?”
“I’ll explain when I see you, I promise.”
“Don’t do that. This isn’t one of those movies where they go, ‘no time to explain.’ You can sum it up in a sentence or two right now, don’t leave me hanging like this. I’ll burst.”
“This is for your safety,” I say with a sigh, looking across at Enzo starts piling logs into a barrow to load into the shed. “Just stay at your dad’s tonight. Tomorrow night, I’ll tell you everything, okay?”
“Just tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“Is Enzo’s cock as good as you dreamed?”
“Maisie!”
“What? I can tell you’re with him. You’ve got that happy tone to your voice you only get when you’re near him. Has he taken your V card? He has, hasn’t he? Punched it for you? Stamped it? Banged it? Erm, fucked it?”
“That last one was subtle. Good work.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Yes, all right. We’ve done it.”
I have to hold the phone away from my ear as she screams down the line and then starts humming a happy tune. “Chloe’s not a virgin, tra la la la la. Chloe’s not a virgin, dooby dooby doo.”
“I wish I’d never called you.”
“Don’t say that. Can’t I be happy for you?”