No Strings Pt. 01

"Yeah, probably not appropriate, but it's in keeping with my twisted sense of humor. What's his buddy's name," I asked.

"Sammy. Why?"

"He might be in the vicinity."

I got a dining chair, turned it around, placed it across Leo's legs and sat down. It took him several minutes to come to, all the while blowing bloody snot bubbles and drooling blood down his front. When he regained consciousness, his eyes were unfocused, and I could see the fight was gone out of him.

I leaned over the back of the chair, grabbed a hand full of his hair and lifted his head up, "Leo, pay attention. Where's your buddy, Sammy?"

"Thammy? In the car," he mumbled.

"Okay, Leo, here's how this is going to work. I'm going to get you up and walk you out of here. You're going to get in the car with Sammy and drive away. You're NEVER going to come here again. You're not going to follow your sister, or even approach her, EVER again. And you're going to make sure your friend, Sammy, NEVER comes around, either...Leo! You hear me?"

"Yeth."

"You understand me?"

"Yeth."

"Okay. Now, in case you forget what I just said, remember this: I always carry! and if I see you or Sammy anywhere near me, I'll shoot you in your ugly, busted-up face! Got it?"

"Yeth."

"Okay, I'm going to stand you up. Don't do anything stupid, or I'll beat you to death with what's left of my broken coffee table. And don't worry, you can reimburse me for that later."

With some difficulty, I got him to his feet and directed him to the front door.

I opened it and pushed him outside, "Now, go join your buddy and go home."

"My handth..."

"Sammy can untie you."

"How do I puth the eleffather buthun?"

"Use your broken nose," I answered and slammed the door.

Then I smelled smoke.

"Lynne, I think the lasagna's done."

"Oh shit!" she yelped and dashed to the kitchen.

The lasagna was a tad charred. I turned on the exhaust fan and put the scorched casserole dish in the sink.

"Supper's ruined!" Lynne exclaimed, then started crying and shaking.

I knew it was an emotional and adrenalin-induced reaction to everything that had just happened. I pulled her into my arms and held her.

"Hey, it's okay. And I'm sorry about your brother, but there was no other way to handle it. And it's not your fault, just his, okay?...How about we get cleaned up, dressed up, and go celebrate your new job."

"Are you sure? After what just happened..."

"Your brother? No biggie. I'm more upset about the lasagna," I smiled.

Still sniffling, she laughed, "You're something, mister."

"Yeah, we're just not sure what. Come on, 'girlfriend'."

She looked up at me and softly asked, "Am I your girlfriend?"

"No, you're my sex kitten. Don't you remember?"

"Yes, and I remember you said, I was a real hot fuck," she parried, giving me a coy look.

"Well, that was an impromptu speculation on my part; said more for effect at that moment."

"Mm hmm, but you might be right...of course there's only one way to find out..." she said in a playful, but sultry voice that made me weak in the knees.

"Um, Lynne, I, um, I think we better stick with..."

She grabbed me and kissed me hard. At first I resisted, but when I felt her tongue slip between my lips, I relented and joined her in a passionate kiss. Probably a stupid move; but, hey, I had tried to avoid it. And it was a helluva kiss.

When we parted from the kiss, I found my voice, "Okay, wow, um, look, why don't we go for that dinner and celebrate."

I could see disappointment in her eyes, but she smiled and nodded, then headed to her bedroom. I went and threw my bloody pants and shirt away, and jumped in the shower. After getting dressed, I came out, turned off the exhaust fan and lit a couple candles. It took a while before Lynne came out, but it was worth the wait.

I remarked, "You know, if we go out with you looking like that, I'll get arrested."

"What, why?"

"Because no cop in their right mind will think I belong with you. They'll assume I'm kidnapping you."

"You silver-tongued devil," she grinned, then walked up and wrapped me in her arms.

"Thank you for beating the crap out of my stupid brother, for protecting me, for being such a strong, resourceful man."

"Stop it; you're making me blush."

IV. NO STRINGS

No, we didn't go to bed that night, though I know we could have. I also believed that Lynne's excitement over getting employment and the subsequent events with her brother could all have influenced her judgement, and mine; and I didn't want to make a mistake. And yes, it was a little out of character for me, at least as of late. I hadn't exactly been a bastion of virtue or a paragon of moral restraint since my divorce, but I'm going to blame that on TB. Besides, these weren't normal circumstances, and Lynne was not one of my usual 'friends'.

Anyway, I thought we dodged a bullet. I was sure that when Lynne started working again, and got her feet under her, she would be moving out and that would be that. In a way, that was probably best. I felt I was damaged goods in a lot of ways and didn't want my problems to negatively affect her.

Unfortunately, we didn't have to wait long for that to happen.

When Lynne started working, she was putting in long hours, getting up to speed; and though her new boss, Diane, was apparently terrific, she was pretty demanding, and Lynne didn't want to disappoint her. So, our routine changed. I would take care of the house when I got home; she would call when she was leaving work, and I would get dinner ready. That was the routine. But one Friday, two weeks after she started work, a couple surprises changed things a bit.

I got off early that Friday and took advantage of the time to take a long, hot shower and wash off the stress of the day. It had been an arduous week. When I got out of the shower, there was a soft knock at the door. I thought Lynne had forgotten her key, wrapped a towel around me, went to the door and opened it. I should have looked through the damned peephole.

First surprise - A big-titted redhead named Denise. "Hi baby. You haven't called in forever. I thought I better check on you, make sure you weren't dead," she opined.

"Hi, Denise, um, I wasn't expecting to see you. I've been busy; and, well, things have changed a little since the last time I saw you."

"Oh, well, you can tell me all about it, later. But right now, since you're already undressed, why don't we catch up in a different way," she quipped coquettishly, whipped my towel off, wrapped a hand behind my head, laid a big wet kiss on me, then reached down with her other hand, grabbed my cock and started fondling it.

And, you guessed it, the second surprise - Lynne. She got off early, and decided to come home, get dolled up and take me out to dinner when I got home.

Surprise! I was already home, butt naked, with a busty redhead wrapped around me and currently clamped onto my face and playing with my dick.

Lynne was two steps in before she saw what she thought was going on. I saw her out of the corner of my eye, immediately pried Denise loose, and started to explain.

The color drained from Lynne's face, and she immediately headed to her bedroom, "Sorry, I didn't know you had company. I'll just get a couple things and be out of your way," she snapped as she closed her door.

Denise asked, "Who's that, baby?"

"My roommate," I replied, exasperated, "And bad timing, Denise; you have to go."

"But I thought..."

I hustled her out the door, telling her I would call later and explain, then retrieved my towel and wrapped up. I went and knocked on Lynne's door.

"Lynne, I know what that looked like, but you have to let me explain."

"No explanation necessary, Matt. We agreed 'no strings'. Look, I have enough money to make a deposit on a place. I'll move as soon as I can find one."

"Lynne, please come out and talk to me."

"No, that's not necessary. I'm sorry I interrupted you and your friend. You guys go ahead and...do whatever. I'll be out of here in a couple minutes."

"She's gone, Lynne. And this isn't right. You have to let me explain. It is absolutely not what it looked like. Lynne? Lynne?" She wouldn't answer.

After a minute, she jerked the door open and had an overnight bag, "Matt, it's okay. I knew you had your 'friends', but I thought...I don't know what I thought."

I started to reach for her and she shrugged away from me, "I'll stop by in the morning to get a few more things if that's okay. Don't worry, I'll call before I come over."

She walked to the door and left without looking back.

Well ain't that just great. I finally fall in love with a woman and...Well, crap! When the hell did I fall in love with her, and why the hell didn't I tell me? So, I'm in love with her and she just breezed out the door and out of my life.

Mondays can be a bitch sometimes, but this Friday felt like a whole bucket of Mondays stacked on top of each other. I promptly drank myself into a coma.

I woke up Saturday morning about four a.m. - in the dark, on the floor, butt-naked and wondering where the hell I was; then Tom brushed up against me, meowing. About the only time she meows is when she's hungry. Crap, I hadn't fed her; and damn it, I'm on the floor; and shit, my back hurts; and fuck, I'm cold...and fuck it all, Lynne just walked out of life and I never told her I loved her...and damn, shit, fuck! My head is pounding like I got hit with a sledge hammer.

I fed Tom, took a shower, dressed, made some food, then sat for the next three hours nursing a hellacious hangover, and brooding about Lynne's departure. Around eight a.m. my cell rang.

"Hello, Lynne."

"Matt, hi. If it won't interrupt anything, I'll be over in a half hour to get some things. I have a place to stay till I can get an apartment, then I'll get the rest of my stuff out of your way."

"You're not going to let me explain, are you?"

"I don't think there's anything to explain. Please, don't make this any harder than it already is. Thank you for everything you've done."

She abruptly ended the call. I couldn't win.

When Lynne arrived, she knocked instead of using her key. I opened the door and she came in, walked past me and headed to her room. After ten minutes, she came out with two suitcases, heading straight for the door.

"I'll get the rest of my stuff as soon as I can," she sharply remarked, then hit the door and was gone.

I was sick in my heart, and hungover everywhere else. I put on running gear and hit the streets. I jogged for miles in the crisp morning air, working off my hangover and trying to clear my head. By the time I got home, my hangover was gone, but my head wasn't any clearer, and my heart...it was still sick.

The next couple weeks dragged by. I worked, I ate, I slept. I called Lynne multiple times, daily at first. Then I gave up. Tom, bless her little cat heart, commiserated with me. Anytime I sat down, she immediately got in my lap and curled up. Sometimes, she would look up at me and meow, like, "When's Lynne coming home?"

Home...it had been a home for a while. Now it was just an apartment occupied by a sweet cat and one screwed up, male tenant.

Late one Friday night, there was a knock on my door. My heart stuck in my throat, and I busted my ass answering it.

"Oh, hi, Sylvia. Come in."

"Well, don't sound so excited to see me, honey."

"Sorry, just out of sorts. Want something to drink?"

"Sure, I'll take a beer...Matt, I know what happened. I ran into Denise last week. She told me all about it."

"Yeah, well, it was probably for the best."

"Oh, bullshit, honey. Lynne loves you, and you love her."

"I doubt that, and if she did, she doesn't now. And what makes you say that?"

"Matt, baby, I've had three husbands; I loved one of them, and he loved me. And I've been around the block. I know love when I see it in someone's eyes. It was in hers. And you, well, you're about as lovesick as anyone I've ever seen...Thanks," she said as I handed her a beer.

"So did you come to cheer me up, or just lecture me?" I crabbed.

"Neither, baby, I just came to check and make sure you hadn't slit your wrists and left Tom without any food."

I laughed, "Sorry. You're a good friend, Sylvia."

"I know that you big dope; now come here and sit down."

I sat down beside her, and she threw an arm around my neck and patted my shoulder, "Matt, this isn't going to resolve itself. You have to do something, honey."

"What? She won't answer my calls, won't talk to me, won't let me explain..."

"I don't know, but you need to try. Look, while you're thinking on it, can I borrow your cell. I don't want to run to my apartment, and I need to make a call."

"Sure, it's on the counter."

After she got off the phone, we sat and caught up for a while, talking about things that didn't matter, pretty much anything that didn't include Lynne or my problem with her. Finally, after a couple beers, Sylvia got up to leave.

"You take care, kiddo," she said, kissed me on the cheek and left.

After one more intolerable week, I decided on a Friday to go out for dinner, get out of the apartment, get out of this funk, and start living again. I had to face the fact that Lynne was a done deal. I'd meet someone else, sometime, somewhere...and move on.

I drove to a nearby bar and grill that's located adjacent to a major, chain hotel. After a pretty decent bacon cheeseburger, I went to the lounge to get a beer. I didn't feel like sitting at the bar so I found one of the last available tables and waited for a server.

"Can I help you sir?" a voice behind me asked.

"Yes, I'd like a porter, please."

The woman walked around in front of me, "I'm not a waitress. You're sitting at my table."

I looked up, then at the table and saw the drink sitting on the other side of the little napkin thingy in the middle, I looked back up at the tall, stunning woman, "Sorry, and there's no mistaking you for a waitress. Forgive me. I didn't see the drink."

"No, that's okay. Honest mistake. But, um, I'm meeting someone, so..."

"Oh, certainly," I replied as I scooted the chair out and stood.

"No problem," she smiled.

I went to the bar, grabbed a vacant stool, and sat contemplating what I was going to do next, how I was going to get myself on track again. My answer after my ex, was to go out and get laid - frequently. Right now, my heart wasn't in it.

I was starting on my third beer when the woman from the table came up next to me.

"It seems I've been stood up. If you would care to join me..."

"My pleasure. Sorry you were stood up. The guy must not have been very bright?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, he stood 'you' up."

"Good line, honey. Join me, won't you."

I got off the stool and followed her to the table, "It wasn't a line. I was serious," I replied.

She turned and looked at me as we sat, "Oh, I believe you, and I appreciate the compliment, but it was still a good line."

Deadpan, I replied, "Well, as long as you bought it."

She laughed and offered her hand, "I'm Marla."

"Matt. Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Marla."

"Likewise. Um, you're not married are you?"

"Why, do I look married?"

"Mmm, you do have that 'kicked-in-the-teeth' look that many married men have, at least in my experience. But I ask because I don't want to get tangled up with any married men."

"Well, no, I'm not married - divorced, from 'the bitch'. And yes, I think you're right about the look. And, euphemistically, I did get kicked in the teeth, but not by my ex. No, I'm pining over a lost love."

"Well, I guess we have something in common. My husband, 'the prick', slept with my maid and I kicked his ass out, so now I'm 'prickless', and I was just stood up on my first date, so I'm 'pining' a bit myself."

"Well, Marla, now I know of at least two men who aren't very bright."

She smiled, "Thank you again. So what brings you out tonight, Matt?"

"Oh, just licking my wounds, you might say. Someone I cared about, left me high and dry a few weeks ago. This is my first attempt at getting over it, rejoining the rat race."

Marla lifted her drink, "Well, Matt, here's to a couple jilted rats. Maybe it's destiny that we met tonight."

I returned her toast, "May be, Marla, may just be."

As we chatted, I looked Marla over. Her long, dark hair hung to mid-back and was currently gathered in a jeweled clip. Her slightly narrow face was model-perfect, featuring dark brown eyes, surrounded by long eyelashes. She had an 'elegant' nose - narrow, straight, slightly long, but not what I'd call patrician. Her lips were a work of art, wide and full. Physically she was tall, probably about 5'-10." When I followed her from the bar, I took in her long, willowy figure with its subtly flared hips and nicely-shaped derriere.

She was dressed expensively, but not ostentatiously. Her dress was obviously a designer fashion, impeccably tailored to fit her lithe figure - it clung to every subtle curve of her body, and hung to below mid-calf, with an angled hem at the bottom which led up to a slit on the side that reached above the knee. The long, smoke-gray dress had thin, silver threading running vertically through it, creating a fine, subtle pin-stripe effect; and the bodice featured a plunging neckline that ended just below her bosom, and showed just a hint of cleavage from the swell of her moderately-sized breasts.

Her jewelry, on the other hand, was definitely ostentatious. She was wearing a pendant necklace with a large, pear-cut diamond that hung between her cleavage, artfully highlighting that part of her anatomy. A set of matching pendant earrings completed the ensemble. The rings on her fingers each probably cost more than my former home. She had beautiful hands with long slender fingers; on the ring finger of her right hand was a large, brilliant, round diamond surrounded by small, deep-blue sapphires, and on her left, was a beautiful, marquise-cut sapphire with a row of diamonds arranged on each side. As she talked she fiddled with the ring on her right hand, twisting it back and forth. She noticed me looking.

"That was my wedding ring. I switched it over to my right hand when the bastard...I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call him that...when the prick cheated on me."

I laughed, "Marla, you're a gal after my own heart."

"Well good, darling, then why are we still sitting here?"

"I don't know. I'm certainly not married to this chair," I replied.

"Your place or mine?" she demurred.

"Yours, if you don't mind. I have a feeling it's a little nicer than mine; besides, my cat doesn't like strangers," I joked.

She laughed as she stood, "Well, we don't want to upset the cat, do we?"

I rose from the table, walked around and offered her my arm.

"Follow or go together?" I asked when we got to the parking lot.

"We'll take my car. Where's yours?" I pointed. "Move it to the hotel parking lot. I'll bring you back in the morning," she said slyly with a playful half-smile.

The end of Part One of Three

Of

NO STRINGS

~~~~~

Continued in Part Two - THE BITTER END