Free Sliding Past Vertical by Laurie Boris Page A

She
smoothed rat’s nest hair out of her eyes. Her head and hand throbbed. “Don’t
start with me, Jay.”
    “What’s with Mutt and Jeff
dissing me on the phone last night?”
    “They were just trying to
protect me.”
    “From me? What did I ever do
to you?”
    I’ll
make you a list. “Someone
busted up our place yesterday.”
    Silence.
    “I think you know who did
it.”
    Finally he responded, his
voice grave and cracking. “Did they take anything?”
    “Is that all you care about?”
    “No, of course not. You’re okay?”
    “Yes, thanks for asking.”
    “Did they take anything?”
    A wicked grin crossed her
face. She wanted to tell him she’d flushed the coke. He’d go berserk. So would
whoever else might be listening. “We shouldn’t talk about this on the phone.”
    “I’ll be there in ten
minutes.”
    Emerson and Jay face to face
before she had her coffee. She cringed. “No, don’t—it’s not a good time.”
    “Why, the boys won’t be done
with you by then?”
    “Fuck you.”
    Rashid stirred. Sarah pulled
the phone into the kitchen.
    “What else am I supposed to
think, when two strange men answer your phone at one thirty in the morning and
tell me to shove off?”
    “That maybe they’re trying to
help me out of the royal mess my asshole boyfriend got me into.”
    He had the gall to laugh.
“Hah. I bet they’re helping you.”
    “Fuck you again.”
    “I’m coming over. Save me a
turn.”
    She wanted to slam the receiver
down in his ear but he’d beaten her to it. She stomped around the kitchen,
making coffee and silently fuming.
    Rashid appeared in the
doorway in an orange Syracuse University T-shirt and a pair of pajama bottoms,
all of them rumpled from sleep.
    “Sorry I woke you,” Sarah
muttered.
    “I was just about woken up
anyway.” He adjusted his glasses. “May I help you with that?”
    “It’s already brewing.” She sat
at the table with a thud.
    He joined her, barely taking
up any space on the chair across from hers.
    “We are having a visitor?” he
said finally.
    She blinked fuzzily at him.
“Something like that.”
    His gaze met hers for a
second before it dropped to the sugar bowl. He had kind-looking eyes so brown
they were almost black. He fingered the little chip in the ceramic lid. “Maybe
I’m out of line to tell you this, as I don’t know you so well as Emerson, but
maybe it is not a good thing for this goonda to be coming here.”
    “It’ll be all right.”
    A long silence fell between
them.
    “He is bad news. If he makes
you curse at him—”
    She sighed. Great. Now I have two Emersons for the price
of one, telling me what to do.  

 
    * * * * *

 
    It began to rain, a sudden,
heavy downpour that fogged their windows and turned to steam on the hot
sidewalks. Emerson, still damp from his shower, sat at Dee Dee’s kitchen table,
sipping milk and ignoring Sarah.
    She’d forgotten how sullen he
could be in the morning, especially when he was mad at her. If it were later in
the day, he might lance her with sarcasm. At the moment, though, she’d prefer
barbs to silence. At least she wouldn’t feel so isolated.
    Jay pulled up in front of the
house and leaned on his horn. She turned toward the noise. Turned back. Emerson,
caught looking at her, glanced away, playing hurt little boy games.
    “I’m sorry.” She touched
Emerson’s arm. His muscles tensed, pushing her off of him. “I have to do this.”
    He said nothing.
    Jamming her rat’s nest hair into
a ponytail, Sarah dashed out. Cold splats of rain landed on the back of her
neck. She threw open the car door.
    Jay searched her hands, his
eyes raking her with frantic cobalt fire.
    “It’s gone, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.” Sarah yanked the
handle behind her. “It’s gone.”
    Jay cursed while pounding on
the steering wheel.
    Knowing better than to say a
word until he calmed down, she waited, hands clenched in her lap, until he was merely
gripping the wheel and muttering. Technically she’d