Free Simple by Dena Nicotra Page B

a couple of bags of Fritos out.  Mic and I munched on our snack and swapped stories about the good old days before technology kicked our asses.
    I learned that he was thirty-eight and that he’d never been married.  Giz was his lead developer and they’d worked very closely.  Over time, they had become close friends.  Mic explained that Giz escaped a massacre at IDE the day things went bad because he’d left to join his wife for lunch at the hospital. They’d just learned she was expecting their first child. Darla O’Malley was a trauma nurse, which meant she was in the emergency room when the nightmare started.  Mic didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t ask him to.  It would be awful if Giz woke up and overheard our conversation about his wife.  I know I wouldn’t want to hear anyone discussing how I’d lost my loved ones.  I tipped the bag and shook the last of the Frito crumbs in to my mouth, then crumpled the bag and set it in the center console.  Mic eyed me sideways.  “So, are…or were you married?”  I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and repositioned my feet on the dashboard.  “Nope.”
    “Were you in a relationship?”  His eyes were fixed on the road.
    “No.  Not anymore.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Don’t be.  It was over before this started,” I said, not wanting to elaborate.
    “I can appreciate that.  With my work, I seldom had time for relationships, and when I did – well, they usually turned out bad.”
    “Your relationships are public knowledge, MicFish.”  His shoulders shook as he laughed quietly.
    “Yeah, I guess I tend to forget about that.”
    “I’m not surprised that your relationships failed.  You seemed to pick the kind of women who either only cared about your money, or cared more about themselves.”
    “Yep.  That pretty much sums it up for my love life.  What about you?  Did you pick bad men?”
    “I guess I did, actually.  I was dating a guy named Rick for about a year. He screwed around, I found out…yadda, yadda.” I trailed off in the same way had earlier, leaving him to assume the details.  I didn’t really care to rehash those thoughts.  Rick was a dick.  He was also the son of my father’s best friend, which made it even more difficult because I was a daddy’s girl and my father wanted to bust his kneecaps with a baseball bat for what he’d done to me. But that would have started World War Three in our neighborhood.  It definitely put a strain on my dad’s friendship with Rick’s father.
    In the end, it didn’t matter.  Rick cheated on her, too.  In fact, he was such a horn dog he was frequenting a skanky simp whorehouse on the north side of town.  The only reason I knew about it was because I regularly picked up bread for our deli at a bakery two streets over.  The first time I noticed his car out in front of ‘Simple Delights’ I didn’t put two and two together.  I mean, there were other businesses around, and a movie theatre.  He could be in the area for a number of reasons.  The second time I saw his car there was nothing to question.  I saw him as he walked right out of the front doors zipping up his fly, a cigarette dangling from his mouth.  Rick loved that after-sex smoke.  I rolled my window down and flipped him off.  That was the last time I saw him.  I remember thinking how I hoped a simp bitch would bite his dick off.  It was quite possible that one actually did.  I’d heard horror stories that were similar.
    “We’re gonna need gas,” Mic said, breaking me from my thoughts.
    “Great.  There’s nothing around here.  I haven’t seen a car in the last God-knows how many miles.”  The stretch of road we were on wasn’t familiar to me, and it was pitch black outside now.
    “There’s a turn-off about five miles up with a gas station and some fast food places.  We’ll make it.”
    “You know this area?” I asked with some relief evident in my voice.
    “Yeah.  I’ve got an aunt that