Caught in the Devil's Sheets (7 page)

I push that thought to the back of my mind. Staring up at Odin sitting directly across me, I take in the view. I know I shouldn’t be staring. I shouldn’t be here at all. Suddenly this all feels very inappropriate.

Odin is wearing a black wife beater and jeans, and I notice how large his biceps really are. He must hit the weights. He is hunching over the table and his shoulders are big and square. There is just enough stubble on his face that it brings shadow to his square jaw line and the clef in his chin. His eyes shine a beautiful aqua blue in the sunny window seats we are sitting in.

The waitress comes and takes our order. I get the breakfast sandwich and a bowl of fruit, and Odin has the potato pancakes. When the waitress bustles off, we are left quietly sipping our coffee and enjoying watching people walking by outside. You can see some of the weirdest people walking Main St. in downtown Santa Monica. After all, Hollywood does breed the strangest people in the world!

“Felix called me this morning to give me the details about Chicago,” Odin says after a while.

Oh, there are details other than the usual
? I put my mug down and give him my attention.

“I told him about me and Jaime getting into it last night. Either way I told him I would take the run by myself if you changed your mind.”

I realize there is a good chance Jaime might wake up this morning still pissed as hell at Odin and not want me to take Chicago with him. I try not to get worked up with anger at how mad I am at Jaime right now. There’s also a good chance he might wake up completely oblivious.

“Jaime and I need the money so, whether or not he likes it, I am going,” I say strongly. But if Jaime says no, then I’m not sure I can stand up to him. I will try. “Besides, there’s a good chance he may not even remember last night when he wakes up.”

“Oh, he’ll remember!” Odin says and the rage that was in his eyes last night returns. “If you need money Lila, I’ll gladly give you half the money from the Chicago run. You don’t have to go. It’s the least I can do. After all, it’s my fault if Jaime doesn’t want you going with me now. Then you don’t even have to take the risk.”

I gape at Odin. Of course I can’t accept his offer. What would even prompt him to do something like that?

“I don’t need that kind of favor. I would just assume go and earn my worth, if you don’t mind.” I have to be understanding if Odin isn’t comfortable running with me after last night, if that’s what he’s implying.

“I don’t mind,” he says surely, and that’s the end of the conversation. The waitress lays our food out on the table for us. Just as I take my first bite my phone rings and it’s Jaime. I silence it and toss it back in my purse.

“So I will take care of getting the rental tonight. Just meet me at the club tomorrow morning at seven and we’ll take off,” Odin says between two bites of potato pancakes.

“Okay.” That’s new. I guess this is his way of being in charge since Chicago isn’t my run to start with.

We talk about how fucked up my house was this morning and I confess that if I didn’t need to go home and pack I would be finding lots of things to do other then go home today. All the while I can feel my phone buzzing in my purse next to me.

“Samantha has a closet full of clothes at my place. You’re welcome to them if you wanna just crash with me tonight. We can head out together in the morning,” he offers boldly.

I’m a married woman. I can’t camp out at another man’s house and I can’t wear some strange girl’s clothes either, but I’m flattered by his offer nonetheless.

“No, I got some obvious things I need to deal with,” I say reluctantly.

“I’ll be home all night,” he says rolling his shoulders and leaning back in his chair.

The waitress lays our bill on the table and he immediately picks it up. Tearing off the top of the receipt he doodles on it with a pen and hands it to me. “My address, in case you change your mind,” he says and he is looking right through me with his dazzling blue eyes.

“Thanks,” I fold the receipt and put it in my wallet. It dawns on me how afraid I am of going home right now. I’m completely unsure of what Jaime is going to have to say.

Odin walks me out to my car, and we linger at my car a moment while we say good bye, no part of me really wanting to go home. It’s like he knows this and we stand there another 15 minutes or so just talking about how cold Chicago is likely to be and how their football team sucks. This is an obvious stall, because neither of us likes sports, but eventually I shut my car door, and wave as I pull out of my spot.

When I get home most of the people have cleared out. Jeff and Jaime and a few others are working at trying to put my Humpty-Dumpty house back together.

“Hey babe,” Jaime says, in a voice that tells me he is afraid of how I am about to react right now.

“Hey.” My tone is rude. I look around at the amount of progress that has been made on the house. “Quite the mess you made of things last night.” I stare at him, feeling empty and numb.

“I’m working on cleaning it up right now.”

He has a massive black eye from Odin’s blow. Sadly, it makes me feel better about what a fucking asshole he was last night. I have a feeling he hasn’t forgotten as much as I’d hoped.

“Good luck with that. I’m gonna go pack,” I say calmly.

“For where?” he asks, and I cast a nervous glance around at all the people listening to us in the kitchen. We can’t talk about this in front of everyone. I walk up closer to him so I can whisper.

“Chicago. Remember?” Jaime gives me a strange look for a minute.

“Right,” he says as if just remembering I had ever told him about going to Chicago.

I shake my head then walk away from him down to our bedroom. I hear the people in the living room leave and then Jaime puts some loud music on. In a few minutes he makes his way into the bedroom as I am finishing putting my things into a suitcase.

“Hey,” he says, and he has a strange spark in his eye. I can tell he’s just done a line because his eyes are big and his pupils are small.

“What’s up?” I ask, irritated.

“Nothing, everyone just took off,” he says as he walks his way over to me and puts his arms around my shoulder. I try to shrug out of them. I am so
not
in the mood.

“You get it cleaned up down there?” I ask changing the subject. But he follows me over to the dresser. I get the feeling he’s not in the friendly mood either.

“Just about. Where’d you take off to this morning?” A part of me is afraid to tell him I was with Odin this morning. I have no idea if he has full recollection of last night, if he’s pissed, or if he is just asking.

“Went and had breakfast. Couldn’t exactly cook in this kitchen,” I say, turning to face him. He puts his arms back around me and I freeze a little. I try not to let Jaime bully me, but I can’t deny that he is intimidating as he pins me in his arms.

“With who?” he asks, and his green eyes are piercing into mine.

“Odin,” I say, having some feeling he already knows.

Jaime nods his head, and pushes me back into the dresser. He grabs my head and kisses me, forcing his tongue into my mouth. I try to push him off of me.

“Uhh, I don’t think so! Not after the way you acted last night,” I say, but he doesn’t let me out of his arms. He holds me there against the dresser. My heart is pounding.

“You know what I think?” Jaime asks running a hand through my hair and then grabbing it at the nape. “I think Odin has a thing for you.”

Ouch
, he’s pulling my hair at the roots. “Let go of me.” I raise my voice at him and the dresser behind me shakes as I struggle against it.

“The way he got in my face about you last night.” Jaime is smiling and has his hands around the top of my arms, not letting me go.

I’m trying hard to get out of his grasp, and he slams me against the wall next to the dresser.

“Right now with the way you’re treating me, I’m starting to think maybe you’ve got a thing for him too,” he hisses in my face. He grabs my wrists and pins them to the wall, squeezing so hard it hurts.

“Stop!” I scream at him.

He lets go of my left arm and quickly uses his right hand to slap me across the face. I stumble over and catch my balance leaning on my bed, but before I can recoil, Jaime uses his force to push me onto the bed. He forces me onto my back, sitting on top of me and holding my hands down on the mattress. I don’t fight back this time. I don’t want to anger him any further. I can’t help the tears that stream from my eyes.
Why is he doing this?

“What now?” He smiles like this is some kind of game, bullying me.

“I don’t have a thing for Odin! How could you even think that after all I do for you! I just wanted to apologize for what an ass
you
were to him last night! He is trying to help us and you are acting like he’s trying to steal me!” I say hoping to get through to his thick skull as I scream at him through my tears.

“You better not be lying to me Lila, or I’ll hurt you both! Understand me?” His eyes are burning into me. His entire demeanor is dark and he has a sinister look on his face that has me scared to my core.

“I’m not,” I plead, wishing I would have never come home.

“Good,” he says, and he leans down to kiss me on the lips. For fear of what may come next I kiss him back. Then he gets off of the bed, leaving me shaking in my own skin.

“Tell Odin I said hello tomorrow. I gotta get going,” Jaime says, pulling on his Bandits cut and smoothing back his short black hair.

“Okay,” I whimper from a ball of fear on the bed.

Jaime heads out the door down the hall. I can hear his bike pull out even over the sound of metal music in the living room. My heart is racing, and I let myself cry into the pillow for a while. It could have been much worse, but it could be so much better.
How did things get this way?
I could have never imagined that Jaime would become so violent when we got married. And now this whole relationship feels so hopeless. I know if he would quit using, he’d be a different person. Even still, it wouldn’t take back all the things he’s done.

After a while of feeling sorry for myself, I decide to get up and take a bath. Some small lingering voice inside me, reminds me I still have Odin’s address in my wallet.

Yeah, then what?
Reason chides in my ear.
You go pour your sorrows out on him and hope that he says, “Oh, you poor thing. Let me take care of you forever and protect you from the man you chose first.” Yeah, right, Delilah. Get a grip.
Sometimes, the voice of reason is an all too powerful reality check. I take hit after long smoky hit from my pipe in the hot bath, trying to clear my head of everything.

I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow. I don’t even bother coming out of my room for the rest of the day.

Chapter 6
Trip Three, Chicago

When I awake early in the morning, I grab my bags and head out to the car. The house is still in piss poor shape, but at least the furniture has been put back and there looks to be no broken glass anymore. I walk outside and almost step in barf for the second time. Leaving my bags in the doorway, I use the hose to wash it down. Then I put my luggage in my car and head for the Club House.

Odin is waiting in the parking lot, leaning up against the back wall. The sun is out and it’s gearing to be a warm day here in California.

“Morning,” he says, helping me get my bags from my trunk.

“Morning. Which one’s the rental?” I ask, looking through the lot of cars and not seeing one I don’t recognize.

“Behind you.”

I turn and all I see is a huge Dully moving van. Wait, is that what we’re running with? A huge ass van? I turn to face Odin who is clearly awaiting my reaction.

“Okay,” I say as I shake my head in disbelief and take my things around to the driver side.
What the hell are we carrying exactly that it wouldn’t fit in a sedan?
As Odin and I walk past each other at the back of the moving van, I notice that he has gotten a haircut.

“Nice haircut.” It gives him an edgier look. It’s long and choppy in the front, short in the back, and parted to one side. I didn’t think it was possible for him to look any more like a playboy, but this haircut has definitely added to an already rugged sexy look.

“Thank you,” he says gracefully swinging himself into his seat, while I make a less then graceful climb into the driver seat. Odin is smirking at me. I give him a “thanks-a-lot” stare.

“You sure you can drive this thing?” he mocks.

“I learned how to drive in a Ford F250 with a 12-inch lift on it. I can handle it,” I brag in full confidence.

Odin has a surprised expression, but takes my word for it. I turn the key and wait for the coil light to go off before turning over the diesel engine.
See, I know what I’m doing
. I check all my mirrors as I carefully back the beast of a van out of the lot.

Odin reaches for my CD case and chooses an Offspring CD, which is funny because
Bad Habit
happens to be on my top list of driving songs. I turn the volume way up and sing along, using my loud singing voice as a way to let out some of the frustration of my life. Kelli always says I don’t need a microphone because I’m so loud on my own. Usually, I’d be more reserved about singing in front of Odin, but after the weekend I have had, I just don’t give a shit, frankly.

I’m completely surprised when Odin starts singing with me. He plays the fake drums against the dash board, and I throw my hair around like a lunatic in the driver seat. The same chorus of words plays in the van. The next song comes on, and although we don’t put the same amount of enthusiasm into it, we continue our incredibly vocal air instrumental band, laughing at each other as we sing. My years of karaoke experience carry loudly through the small confines of the van. I notice through the chorus that Odin has stopped and is just looking at me. I guess he is staring because he has just realized what a loud, obnoxious scream singer I can be, but when the song is finished he surprises me.

“You have an amazingly strong voice, Delilah,” he says almost surprised.

I have been told this before by lots of drunks in the karaoke bars, but coming from Odin, it’s flattering, and stunning.
Did he just call me Delilah?
I don’t even remember telling him that Lila is short for Delilah.

“Thanks,” I blush. I turn the music back down to a more reasonable level. My voice is raspy and my throat horse. “Can you grab my water from my bag please?”

“Sure.” Odin reaches behind our seats for my backpack and pulls out my reusable bottle.

We head through Vegas around 1:00pm, having been stuck in a lot of morning traffic. Mostly we’ve talked about our musical preferences and how they have changed as we’ve aged.

“What was your first concert?” he asks, leaning in his chair so he is looking at me while I answer.

“Well, I had been to see some shows at the county fair, but the first concert I ever bought tickets for was Ozzfest.”

“Shit, go big or go home huh? What year?”

“2006,” I say trying to recall what bands I saw. “I remember telling my brother I would give my right arm to go because System of a Down was playing that year and they were my ultimate favorite band at the time.”

He laughs hearing this. “Why?”

“I was really into their political agenda. I was a total peace on earth kind of metal head,” I say jokingly, as if there is such a thing. “What was your first concert?”

“Iron Maiden. They were on tour and they played the Grant Center in Southern New Orleans.”

“Awesome. I have always wanted to see Iron Maiden in concert.”

“It was pretty awesome.” He has that boyish, ‘there’s-more-to-this-story’ grin pasted all over his face.

Sunday traffic is slow and we barely make it into Utah as the sun begins to set in the mountains. We stop for gas around 8pm. I take the opportunity to use the bathroom and do some stretching.

“You do yoga?” Odin inquires as I’m squatting in front of the van.

“No, but I used to be in dance.” I miss the shape I was in then. I feel like I have gotten a lot chubbier since I took up driving for a living. I also took up kickboxing for a while. That was a good phase too.

We get back in the van, only this time Odin gets in the driver seat while I again make my less than graceful ascent into the passenger seat. We are right back on the interstate and it’s my turn to play DJ. I choose the Master of Puppets album by Metallica and we sit quietly in the dark while I snack on some munchies.

“So, what all did Jaime remember about Friday night?”

Truthfully, I am surprised it’s taken Odin this long to ask. “He remembers you standing up for me,” I say working my way through the details I care to share and stepping carefully over those which I do not.

“Does he feel like an asshole?” Odin inquires, almost rhetorically.

“On the contrary. He thinks you have a thing for me,” I say, putting Odin on the spot, curious as to what he will say.

“Doesn’t surprise me.”

What does that mean?
I wrap up my chip bag and store it in my backpack. “Why?” I ask, even though it really doesn’t surprise me either.

“I couldn’t believe it when he asked me to run with you. To be honest, I can’t believe he lets you run at all. I would
never
let my wife run drugs or guns.”

Guns?
Is that why we rented a moving van?
Oh fuck!

“It’s not a whole lot different than having girls around the club in general. Are you going to say you’ve never let a girl assume risks that they could have avoided had they not been with you?” I ask in total disbelief.

“Lila, I have put girls in all kinds of risky situations, but I would never let them risk their neck for me the way you do for Jaime. And they were just girls, not my wife.” I can’t help but feel like I need to defend myself. He has no idea what kind of wound he is poking at right now.

“Well, I am just a girl…a girl who likes to make her own way and not have to rely on someone to take care of her. Just a girl who happens to have found something she’s good at and enjoys the payout.” I defend my choice to run drugs as opposed to sit at home.

“That’s probably ’cause you’ve never trusted anyone. When you trust someone completely, relying on them becomes like nature.” His words are deep, and they scratch the surface of my inner fears and insecurities that I try desperately to hide.

“Fuck you. You don’t know anything about me!” I snap, fighting tears inside.

I stare out my own window and concentrate on counting the reflectors on the guardrails.
I will not cry, I will not cry.
Who the fuck does he think he is anyways?
Don’t let him make you cry!
I chant in my head, trying to muster up some inner strength. It only hurts so much because he’s right. I don’t trust anyone. I never have, except for Billy, and he seems to not be talking to me anymore.

Shit!
All these thoughts and emotions spinning in my head and Billy is the one that sends unwelcome tears to my eyes. Before I can stop them, they are trickling down my cheek. I bite my inner lip trying desperately to suck it up before Odin notices, but I think I’m too late.

Reaching over, Odin picks my hand up off my lap and holds it in his own. My heart clenches. I don’t pull away.
Odin is holding my hand!
A rush of emotions floods into my head, dissipating my tears, but I keep my gaze out my window. I have no idea how to feel.
This is wrong
. I know this is wrong, but it makes me feel so much better to know I’m not all alone right now.

“It’s okay, Lila. You’re smart for not trusting Jaime,” he says, squeezing my hand.

I squeeze back. I’m afraid to look at him, afraid of it being awkward, afraid of him pulling away, afraid of the reality that this is actually happening, and afraid of crying anymore, so I keep my gaze fixed out my window.

“If you need a minute, we can stop,” he says softly, unable to gauge my emotion.

“Don’t stop,” I say, finally turning to face him and for a minute our eyes lock. I mean don’t stop the car, but I don’t want him to let go of my hand either. I know I should pull away, and I feel so guilty right now for letting this happen, but this is the warmest anyone has been to me in a long time. Months of loneliness dissipate with Odin’s hand carefully enclosing mine.

“Don’t cry,” he says in a concerned voice, returning his glance to the road ahead of us.

I’m not sure if he is holding my hand to comfort me, or if he’s coming onto me, and right now I don’t care.

“I’m not fucking crying!” I use my free hand to wipe the moisture from my cheeks and take a few deep breaths, leaning my head back into the seat. Before I know it, I’m fast asleep.

The rest of the trip to Chicago is quiet. There is no mention of the earlier topic of trust, no more talk of Jaime, and never a word about the hand holding. Chicago isn’t like any other run. In fact, Odin insists on dropping me off at a 24-hour Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf before unloading. I don’t like it at all, but he talks me into it nonetheless.

“It’s too dangerous, we don’t know these guys, and there’s a lot of money’s worth of stuff back there,” he says, gesturing his head toward the back of the van. “Let me unload. I will be back in two hours. If I’m not, call Micah.”

I put up a protest, but it’s really no use. To be honest, I’m not really in the arguing mood, nor do I care to be part of a deal where there is God knows how many dollars worth of guns on the table. I sigh and roll my eyes.

“Fine.” I step out of the van onto the curb with my purse and my backpack and it is freezing! There is a light layer of snow on the ground and my California winter sweater isn’t cutting it. I hurry my way inside of the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf Odin has left me at. I order a latte and sit in a lazy chair in the corner, plugging in my laptop and taking advantage of the free Wi-Fi.

About an hour goes by and I have made a habit of keeping an eye on the door. Odin enters in from the frigid outside air and his eyes dart around the room relaxing when they meet mine. I shut my laptop and stuff it back into my bag and Odin takes the seat across from me.

“How do you feel about flying home?” he asks.

I am completely surprised. “Why?”

“They’re keeping the van for the price of two airline tickets,” he informs me.

“Okay. How are we getting to the airport?”

“Arturo is waiting in a car outside to give us a ride to Chicago O’Hare Airport.”

“Did you get my stuff out of the van?”

“Of course.” He seems surprised I would ask.

“Alright then.”

I immediately start packing up my things into my backpack, and Odin picks it up to carry it out for me. We make our way back outside into the cold. Odin leads me around the side of the building and the air in the alley is like a wind tunnel, stinging my eyes, lips, and nose. This is what is meant by bitter cold.

Odin holds the back door of a black Lexus open for me to get in. In the driver seat is a well groomed Mexican man wearing a tight knit, black thermal shirt with gray filigree. He turns around to smile at me, but doesn’t say anything. Odin shuts my door and gets into the passenger seat.

“This is Lila. Lila, Arturo,” he says introducing us.

Arturo greets me with a Mexican accent, and I tell him hello. The rest of the ride is quiet. Arturo drops us off at the door of the American Airlines terminal, keeping the engine running while Odin and I grab our luggage from the trunk. It’s a good thing I travel lightly. I’m able to stuff my toiletry duffel back into my purple suitcase. Odin only has a black backpack and a large black duffel bag.

We make our way inside before we freeze. I take my things into the bathroom and discard my pipe, as well as the few grams of pot I had taken for personal use. Wrapping them in toilet paper I dispose of them in the feminine napkin disposal box in my stall.

Odin and I stand in line to buy tickets and check our bags. The couple ahead of us is telling everyone in line that they are on their honeymoon. Young love.
Bastards!
I roll my eyes and Odin looks down, smiling at how disgusted I am and Mr. and Mrs. Can’t-Keep-Our-Hands-Off-Each-Other.

“Where are you guys headed?” asks the short, blonde haired wife. She’s only asking so she can tell us she’s on her honeymoon.
Save it Blondie
.

“We’re going to Hollywood, We’re on our honeymoon,” Odin tells her putting his arm around me.

My eyes widen for a minute.
Ha! This is hilarious!
I wrap my arms around Odin and play along. Blondie’s overly excited expression dims.

“Hey, us too!” says her husband, not missing a beat. “John.” He holds his hand out to Odin. “And this is my wife, Sidney.”

“Odin.” He shakes John’s hand. “Delilah,” he introduces me.

“We’re going to Hawaii,” Blondie says, not as gushy as the last time.