I wasn't waiting long before Keith's back door opened a crack. He cautiously peered out before realizing who his visitor was.
"Cassie," he said, swinging the door open wide. "Well, ain't this a nice surprise?"
"Hi," I said, shaking myself out of the trance that the sudden sight of him had put me in. He was wearing a dark gray T-shirt which was very fitting against his chest and solid arms. "I know it's late..."
"Not at all. Come on in, babe."
The door clicked closed, and I got butterflies when I felt his hand press against the small of my back to lead me over to his living room.
"Take a seat," he said, gesturing at one of his plush, suede-like sofas.
I sat down and, again, admired the rustic styling and cozy feel to the place.
On the beautifully carved, wooden coffee table in front of me, there was a quart bottle of whiskey as well as a few used glasses which he began to stack up. "Sorry 'bout the mess. Just had a few buddies 'round. Good thing they didn't see you or they never would have left." Keith flashed me a smile and I got the flutters. As he walked away towards the kitchen with his glasses, I bit my lip as I let my gaze fall below his belt.
He grabbed a couple of clean glasses from a kitchen cupboard and brought them over, then took the sofa opposite me and spun the top off the whiskey bottle.
"I heard about the lady at the diner," he said, pouring us each a double-shot. "That must've been hard."
"It was."
"Do you need to talk about it?"
"No. I'm fine. Thanks though."
"I was wondering when I'd see you again. Ace didn't seem happy about me wanting to take you out."
"I'm so sorry about last week.
"Don't sweat it."
"No, I have been. I felt terrible. But I didn't know he was coming, and there was something we had to do that couldn't be delayed. I've been wanting to stop by and apologize... but..."
"But Ace doesn't want you coming 'round here anymore. He even put Eyeball back on the run."
"Yeah."
"Do you know why?"
"Because he's a controlling asshole."
Keith smirked. "I think he's taken a shine to you."
"No. He's with someone, so..."
He gave me a questioning look for a moment like he was working through other possible explanations but coming up with none. I felt like I still didn't know the full story myself.
"Well, whatever the reason, you didn't listen. 'Cause you're here."
"Gotta break the rules every now and then."
"Am I gonna get these secret visits often?"
"That depends," I grinned.
He gave me a bit of the eye as he sipped his drink. "Alright, I'll play along. But, I wouldn't want you to get into too much trouble with Ace. You're still working for him, right?"
"Umm... kind of... umm..."
"Look," he said with a gentle smile. "I ain't gonna pretend I don't know some of what's going on. You've got money problems, haven't you?"
"What... how did you know?"
"You said you needed the cash, and Chris said Ace is helping you through some stuff, and Ace ain't good for much unless it's money related."
"Oh..." I said, swirling my drink in my glass. "So, you and Chris have been talking, huh?"
"You haven't seen him in a while."
"I think he hates me."
"Nah, he doesn't hate you. You're like the big sister he never had. I understand you gotta deal with Ace to get you through whatever shit you're in, but that's hard for Chris to accept."
"Yeah, I know. But nothing will be changing any time soon."
"Hey, it'll all work out, OK?" He reached across the table to put a large, comforting hand on my knee.
I gave him a little grin. In that moment, I tried to picture myself with him. I mean, it was obvious he was still as keen on me; it was easy to see us together, for sure. But I needed to learn to control myself. Every time he touched me I went gaga.
He retracted his hand, and I felt the loss of its presence.
"You seem so down tonight, babe."
"Sorry... I just have a lot on my mind."
"Well, if you need to spill it on someone..."
I looked him in the eyes and, although I would have loved to blab all, I refrained from revealing too much. "Basically... the world has been a bastard to me lately. Nothing's going right. Nothing. No matter how much I try to make things right, no matter how patient I am and understanding and accepting of everything and everyone, noone ever does me the common courtesy of giving a genuine shit back."
"I do," he shrugged.
"You hardly know me."
"I've heard enough from Chris to know you're worth caring about. That's all that matters, doesn't it?"
"I guess. Thanks then."
"Course, I wanna get to you know you better myself..."
"I'd really like that too."
He nodded with a grin. "I got an idea that'll take your mind of things for a while."
My heart did a double thump. "You umm... you do?" I stammered.
"Why don't you come sit over here?" He titled his head to gesture at the seat beside him, and the subtle smile he had made me all nerves.
I moved to sit next to him on his sofa and he grinned. "Now you got a better view."
I sure did.
He got up to walk across the room to the cherry sunburst Les Paul which was resting against a small practice amp.
I didn't know whether to feel disappointed or relieved.
Keith wrapped his hand around the neck and threw the strap over his head before switching the amp on. "The beauty of music, Cass, is that no matter where you are, no matter how down you're feeling, it can take you away. Especially when you're playing it."
He took a knee in front of the amp and did a few cool little trills as he adjusted the volume. "Can't have it too loud at this time of night," he said as his pinky rapidly hammered on and off the strings as natural as breathing.
Then finally, he stood. The guitar cried out in both pleasure and pain as he bent the strings to their limit, sending a spine-shivering wail through the room. His fingers flew over the fret board, becoming a blur of sun-kissed skin over dark stained maple, and I stood bug-eyed as a multitude of notes were sent to my ears, too fast to see, too quick to comprehend. After a few bars of his intro, he fell into chord form and began to strum, adding little trills as fillers to beef up each note.
And then he opened his mouth... and his husky voice fell softly upon my ears.
"She's somewhere out there walkin', and I can feel her cry.
The strength of her tears, makes me die a bit inside.
She didn't want to leave me,
I told her not to go.
But you know..."
He cracked into a gut-wrenching solo that was so emotional my throat felt raw. After about five amazing minutes of his off-the-cuff meander across the fretboard, he settled back down into his rhythm section.
"So now, she's gone, forever...
Never comin' home... ever."
Then he ripped into a bridge that almost brought tears to my eyes. His pinky finished with one final trill which faded into the distance, leaving me staring at him in awe and amazement. He tossed the strap over his head and returned the guitar to its stand before switching off the amp.
All I could do was stand, raise my hands and clap.
"Yeah, that's the usual reaction," he said, flopping down onto the sofa.
I retook my seat beside him, and just stared at him for a minute, still in complete awe. He was amazing in every way. Gentle, understanding, smoking hot, and now off-the-scale talented. I hoped he would make it big like he wanted, but I didn't like the idea of girls crawling over him the way they do. I'd be mega-jealous.
"Are you gonna tell me who was that about?" I asked.
He refilled our glasses before taking a decent swig of his. "My sister. Been missing her a lot lately."
"Where is she?"
Keith gave me a slow shrug. "I dunno. Nobody knows. Which is just the way she wanted it."
I looked at the floor at my feet, not knowing what to say.
"Sorry, Cass. I didn't mean to play one like that. But sometimes songs just fall out, and I gotta roll with it."
"You mean, all of that just came to you as you were playing it? The words and everything?"
"Yeah," he shrugged like it was nothing to him. "Look, why don't you come around tomorrow night? We'll have some proper fun. Maybe... we could have a second shot at a date?"
"Here?"
"Why not? Just sneak over so big, bad Ace won't catch you."
"Alright," I chuckled. "It'll be late though."
"I rarely go to bed before 5. I'll be up."
---
The train was right on time. It was nerve wracking getting up into that thing - sliding the huge side door of the container open just a little, climbing up and in and then settling down behind some big boxes of some kind of cargo. I stayed nestled there for about 20 minutes before I heard the engine whistle blow, and then the heavy piece of steam-powered machinery got moving at exactly 10 pm.
Once we were doing a few miles per hour, I dared to open my sliding door just a little and sat cross-legged on the edge to look out at the moonlit countryside.
There was supposed to be a bridge along the way that lay crossroads to the main road into Lewiston. I kept an eye out for it. I had studied the map of the area well, and this bridge would mean we were exactly three miles from Lewiston cargo station. But things always look different in reality, and when we crossed over, it was dark with no street lights or signs telling me I had the right one. After some hesitation, I took a leap of faith and tossed my gas canister overboard. It landed right down deep in the grassy gutter well hidden from anyone driving by.
The whistle blew again, and I held on tight as the brakes came on and slowed the train to a stop. I could hear distant voices, but there was certainly nobody all the way down my end of the train, and so I quickly slid over the edge and onto land, quietly closing the big sliding door behind me.
This cargo station was in the center of an industrial area that did not have an ample selection of cars that were up to spec. There were lots of old pickup trucks, dump trucks and even a couple of tractors. I chuckled to myself as I thought about driving to Ace's in a tractor. Definitely couldn't outrun the cops in one of those. Hell, they'd be able to chase me on foot. Eventually, I resigned to the fact that I would have to walk ten miles into town. I began to contemplate bringing my bike with me next time rather than leaving it at the train station.
Two miles into the journey, I saw an old country pub, still open with a small selection outside. Everyone was inside drinking and no one was watching their rides.
I didn't even bother to sneak. I just waltzed up to the first car I laid eyes on, opened the unlocked door, hopped in and found the keys still in the ignition. I couldn't believe it. Maybe this was one of those small country towns, population one hundred, where everyone feels so safe and secure because nothing bad ever happens in their tight-knit community.
Well, I was about to change all of that.
It was some kind of late model Oldsmobile. Nothing in comparison to my last steal, but I didn't have Vince around, encouraging me to be competitive. I slowly drove it out of the parking lot, trying to be as quiet on the gravel as possible. After checking my mirrors to make sure there was no angry folk chasing me with raised fists, I headed for the bridge to pick up my canister. My car badly needed a drink, and so I gave it every last drop before driving back to the Castle Rock cargo station to pick up my new wheels.
Earlier that day, I bought myself a bicycle. It wasn't much to look at – it was a rickety old thing and the paint was peeling off, but it was a good ride and had a good set of non-squealy brakes. I picked it up from its hiding place in the bushes at the train station, tossed it in the back seat of my car and felt rather proud.
---
It was a little after 12.30 am when I pulled up to the garage. The big double doors were open and I drove straight in. I got out of the car and gazed around the workshop. The red beast was still there along with Vince's Dodge and another car which I assumed was from Eyeball, but all the plates had been removed, and Eyeball's was up on blocks with its engine hanging on a hoist.
"So. That's where you were tonight," Ace said, making me jump. He came out of nowhere, wiping his greasy black hands on a white cloth that looked like it used to be a T-shirt. "We waited for you."
"Well, don't bother from now on."
"What is this, Cass? You don't wanna ride with us?"
"I can get myself around just fine." I tossed him the keys, and he caught them and smirked. I opened the back door of the car and began to get my bicycle out. It took some effort, but I finally got the pedal loose from the seat and it came out after a hard yank.
"What the fuck is that heap of shit?" he laughed.
"Laugh all you want. It's actually a good bike. Smooth, silent and costs me nothin' to run." I ignored Ace's mocking expression and threw my backpack over one shoulder.
"Vince told me what happened last night," he said.
My stomach twisted as a fresh memory of the stench-ridden sasquatches Vince keeps in his shoes flashed before my eyes. "What did he um... what did he say?"
"That you ran outta gas."
"Oh..." I blushed, embarrassed and yet relieved that that was all he had heard.
"I shoulda warned you 'bout that."
"I won't pretend that I didn't blame you for it. But it's over and taken care of. And I'll never make the same mistake twice."
"Maybe I should still take you out."
"No, I don't need it. I can handle everything on my own."
He smiled with a soft laugh, those stony blues of his lingering on me. "Yeah, I bet you can."
We heard a car burning it up the dirt driveway, and I decided to make tracks in case it was Vince. I got my backpack on properly and rode off only to be met by the hood of Vince's latest steal before I even made it out of the garage. I edged around the side of the car, being forced to pass his window to get out.
"Hey, O'Connor," he said with a cruel smile. "You know, my feet are killing me today. I could really do with a foot massage-"
I shot out into the open and pedaled like my life depended on it. It was pitch black, and so I had to steer by memory, not knowing if I was about to ride straight into a tree or a fence, but I wasn't slowing down for anything.
---
I arrived on Keith's doorstep just after three. He opened the door and beamed at me, wearing a blue collared shirt with his sleeves rolled up to the elbows.
"Sorry... I'm a bit later than I thought I'd be."
"Told you it didn't matter," he grinned. "Come on in."
He led me into his living room and gestured for me to sit on the sofa next to him. He had soft jazz playing in the background, and I took a moment to close my eyes and enjoy it.
"How's your night been?" he asked.
"Fine. How's yours?"
"Profitable," he laughed. "It's been OK. But better now."
I felt myself blush at the attention and tucked a lose strand of hair behind my ear.
"What can I get my lady to drink tonight? I got wine, champagne..."
"What... are you outta whiskey?"
He laughed and I joined him in the joke... but really, I was serious. "I've never been much of a wine drinker," I said.
"Whiskey it is then."
He went to get the drinks and I asked to borrow his bathroom. I had predicted he would go to some effort to make this a proper date for us, and so I brought my dress with me to help make our time together special. My buttercup-yellow Harley dress. My mother always told me I suited yellow well; it goes with my olivish skin tone and brunette hair which hadn't been cut for a while and was hanging down the middle of my back.
I pulled it from my knapsack and smoothed it out. Luckily, I had managed to scrub out the dirt it collected from hiding in the scrub on the night of Ace's unexpected car boosting demo, and so it was beautiful again.
I stared at my reflection in Keith's little bathroom mirror, unable to see much past my shoulders but enough to know that it would earn me a reaction. Of course, there were doubts weighing on my mind about whether I should be there – I had to be super careful not to reveal anything Keith shouldn't know. I just felt like I needed this. I needed something to go right for me, and Keith seemed too amazing for anything to go wrong.
He was in his kitchen pouring us some shots when I came out. He was in mid-pour when he laid eyes on me, and he flooded the glass, making a small puddle on the bench.
"I've never worn jeans and a T-shirt on a date, so..."
"You look gorgeous," he grinned, his eyes lingering. He picked up one of the shots and held it high. "Grab a glass and let's have a good night."
I took a glass and smiled as I tapped it against his before downing it.
"Hey... I can smell... is that... pizza?" I said, sniffing the air.
"Yeah... I got my buddy from Chamberlain to bring some over," he said, gesturing at his oven. "It's about six hours old and reheated, but it'll still taste great, I'm sure."
"I wouldn't care if it was yesterdays and cold. I'm starving."
We ate and talked and drank through the night. Conversation flowed easily between us. Just like with Chris, Keith and I never ran out of things to talk about. Once the pizza had been devoured, the guitar came out and he showed me more of his impressive and seemingly limitless talent. Even when he wasn't 'playing' as such, he'd have it sitting on his lap while he mindlessly toyed with the strings.
I learned that his main influences were Blues and Rock 'n Roll artists like Chuck Berry, Buddy Holly and Jerry Lee Lewis, and in my opinion, he was just as good as any of them. He wanted to give me a lesson and sat the weighty thing on my lap, pulled me in snug to him and told me that the first thing you should learn is how to finger pick. E G B E, up and down, up and down on the open strings. It doesn't sound like much fun, but I had a great time trying to master the technique. He then taught me a few chords - D major, an A and a G – and positioned my fingers wherever they needed to be. When I applied my newly found picking skills to the chords it sounded pretty good; I was getting the hang of this guitar thing. Although, my soft fingertips were getting sore by now, and so I gave it back to him and spent a while longer watching him in amazement.
"You must be getting so bored of watching me play," he said after some time.
"Not at all," I said sleepily, leaning back on the sofa with a soft cushion.
Keith laughed and set the guitar down on its stand. "Come here, I wanna show you something."
He had a turntable which sat on top of a big double door cabinet. We knelt before it, and he opened the doors.
"Feast your eyes."
There must've been three hundred records under there, all vertically stacked in their thin covers and alphabetically categorized with dividers. I tilted my head as I scanned the mass. He had everything from Robert Johnson to Ray Charles. Muddy Waters to Ritchie Valens. Ella Fitzgerald to Elvis.
"Wow... that is some collection. Impressive."
"So, what do you like?"
"I think I'll have to go with this." I pulled one from the stack and handed it to him.
"Buddy Holly," he said solemnly as he the read the label, The Crickets. "It's been over a year now, and it's still hard to believe he's gone." He stood and pulled the record from its sleeve and gave it a slick spin between his palms before setting it down on the turntable. The little needle bobbed as the tune began to play.
It's so easy to fall in love,
It's so easy to fall in love.
I started moving my head to the music when Keith unexpectedly took my hand and pulled me up and into him. "I'm feelin' good enough to dance – how 'bout you?"
"Well, OK!"
People tell me love is for fools,
So here I go, breaking all of the rules.
He sure knew how to lead a girl on the floor. I let myself go as I was twirled, twisted and tossed around the room without a thought to what I was doing. Keith was a natural and took the lead with that casualness about him as if there was nothin' to it. I was rolled out to arm's length and back in again, and he lifted me up into the air and spun me around with me giggling for him to put me down again. He finally let up and set me down, giving me a few finishing twirls.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting that!"
"Sometimes I can be persuaded," he said, giving me a wink. "So, did I give you a good night like I promised?"
"You're a man of your word. It was a lot of fun. Thank you."
He rolled me in again with a flick of his wrist and held me there, tucked up in his arms. "Is there anything I could do to top it off?"
Nerves were rolling around in my stomach like never before. "Maybe..." I muttered.
A sly smile peeked out as his eyes flicked to my mouth, and the feel of his firm lips dazzled me. I felt his fingers slip up through my hair and his mouth engulfed mine. I stood there listlessly, following his lead and thinking about how long it had been since the last time anyone held me like that and how much I missed it. The warmth of his body, the softness of his chest and the firmness of his embrace had me a smitten kitten.
It didn't take long for him to get more daring and determined, and his kisses ventured around to the tender spot under my ear and down my neck. I soon found myself being led backward a few steps, and I walked into the sofa and tripped up, falling back onto the cushions. Keith went down with me, his large frame looming over as he persisted in smothering me with attention.
I wanted to take things further; I really did, but the problem was... I liked him too much. I liked him too much to lie to him. I liked him too much to tell him to mind his own business if he ever asked me where I was going for the night. Those are the things I would have to do if we were to be together right then. We seemed good for each other – that was for sure - but the sticky situation I was in was sure to ruin us. I wanted to take things further, but I had to wait. We had to wait. And then we could be good.
I pushed at his chest, and he pulled back to gaze at me with heavy eyes.
"Wow, I wasn't expecting that either," I said, a bit breathless. "You're full of surprises."
He gave a soft laugh. "Too much?"
"I want to. Believe me, I do. But... I'm not even supposed to be here."
"Baby, if you wanna keep us a secret, I'm cool with that. I won't tell nobody." He went in for another kiss and I felt his warm hand on my knee. His fingers slipped under the hem of my dress, and I stiffened when they started to skim up my inner thigh. I wanted to go with it. To surrender to it. But there was just no way this was happening.
I gently pushed him away and looked regretfully into his striking blue eyes. "You don't understand. You and me being together, it would be difficult right now."
"What's really going on?" I noticed those eyes were now filled with suspicion, and I looked away. That hated feeling of having to hide shit from him – it was already happening.
"I've known that kid for a long time, Cassie. I've been involved in all sorts of deals and schemes with him, and I know how he works. And this – this is classic 'Ace is up to no good'."
"I'm sorry I led you down the garden path, but I really think I should go."
Keith blew out a deep breath. "Hey, it's OK," he said, and he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.
"You must think I'm a bitch to leave you like this. A tease."
"I don't think that at all. You've got shit going on. You're feeling stuck. And I pushed you too hard."
"Don't you dare blame yourself. It was a great night. I haven't felt so good – so relaxed in a long time."
He softly grazed my cheek with his thumb, and I closed my eyes and sighed, willing myself to stay strong enough to walk out. "Just tell me it's not over for good, and I'll be happy," he said.
"It's not over for good. I'll be back. Because damn... you can really dance."
He laughed and then pulled me in for one last kiss, and I let myself indulge in him. It was hard to say goodbye, but I did it. I grabbed my bicycle and rode off in the first light of day, already missing his presence.