“How exactly?” Carter asks. “Ubers don’t come out this far. Your only way out of here is on foot and that’s gonna take hours. Days, even, if you encounter desert wildlife.”
Carmen stares out the window like she’s actually considering it.
Eventually, she sighs and agrees.
I know Carmen’s kind better than I know the back of my hand. If you let her, she’ll take control of your heart and shape it however she sees fit.
I prefer women who don’t make me feel things.
Because even when youdofeel things, the person turns out to be fake anyway.
7
CARMEN
“Here’s fine.”
It’s not really. I’m still a mile away from home, but I don’t want Carter finding out that I live in a literal dumpster.
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He kills the engine and I jump off, returning the spare helmet to him.
He looks different this morning. Maybe even more concerned than he was last night.
“Last night was fun,” I tell him.
“Was it?” His face suggests the opposite.
“Yeah,” I say. “It was.”
I wish it wasn’t. It’d be easier to say goodbye if he and his friends had performed poorly.
I fold the check away into my pocket and rest my hand over it. I know what people in this neighborhood are like. Some of them are so poor that they can smell money from miles away, even if the money is written on a check, not even real yet.
The orgasms might be over, but at least I never have to worry about finances ever again.
“Look after the money. And yourself,” Carter says.
I frown. “Why are you much nicer this time around?”
I prefer him as an asshole. It was easier to say goodbye to him back then.
Because therewasno goodbye.
“I can be nice when I want to be.” He goes on studying me, face getting even more serious. “You need to be careful. If you see Conrad O’Neill again, you ring me.”
“I don’t have your number.”
“I know.” Carter steals my phone. “That’s why I’m giving it to you now.”
I try and protest, but my 2007 iPhone is already in his hand. I reach onto my tiptoes and hope that he doesn’t somehow accidentally click onto my online banking.
He creates a new contact, and I watch his fingers glide over my phone screen, getting flashbacks of when he had them between my legs last night.
While I’m at it, I check his marital status.
