Caught in the Devil's Sheets (3 page)

BOOK: Caught in the Devil's Sheets
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“You guys okay?” he asks seriously.

I don’t even know how to answer. No.

“Sure.” I don’t cop to my marital problems.

“How do you feel about being out on the road with me?” He has no idea he’s just struck gold in the world’s most dangerous sea.

“No offense to you, but I’m pissed as hell!”

“None taken. I don’t blame you. I can’t believe he lets you run at all. Him hooking you up with me, is way out of line.”

“Thank you!” I’m glad to know I’m not the only one who thinks so. Suddenly, I really like Odin! But I can’t help but wonder… “Why did you agree to come?”

“Well, if he was already desperate enough to ask me, I was afraid of who he might go to next or that you’d end up going alone.”

It never dawned on me that Odin might not be the first person Jaime asked, although it makes sense. Now I am embarrassed.

“That was nice of you.”

There’s a few moments of long awkward silence. Before it goes on too long, I start the annoying get-to-know-you questions game.

“You like sports?” I ask, not that I know much about them myself.

“Not really. You?”

“No. What’s your favorite thing about Louisiana?”

“Mardi Gras or the food. It’s a hard tossup.”

“I have always wanted to go to Mardi Gras!” I remember watching videos on TV about it

“It’s quite the party.” There’s a huge shit eating grin on his face.

Mm hmm
.

“What’s your favorite thing about Ojai?” He must be kidding.

“It’s only a 30 minute drive to Ventura!” We both laugh.

“And, what’s your favorite part about Ventura?”

“The beach. It’s my favorite place in the world and the thing I missed the most in Wyoming.”

“Have you ever been to Mexico?”

“No.”

“The beaches are beautiful down there,” he says.

I wonder if he’s been in Mexico on business or pleasure. I don’t ask. We’re not really supposed to talk about business.

We continue on through Arizona, chitchatting about little things mostly. We stop once at a Carl’s Jr. to get food and use the restroom, but we’re quickly back on the road. I try desperately to eat my burger gracefully while holding the wheel. I manage not to spill.

Dusk falls on us as we reach New Mexico. I drive after dark, trying to get us as far as I can before the lines begin to blur on me, and I decide to tap out. I pull into a truck stop close to the Silver City junction. I move some stuff around on the floor board and pull a blanket out. We both take off to the bathrooms.

When I come out, Odin has taken my place in the driver’s seat. He says he will take us the rest of the way to Texas and we should be there around lunch time tomorrow.

Settling into the co-pilot seat, I pull out my phone and I only have one text. {Call me}-Jaime. Usually he hounds me with messages when we’re not together, but I suspect he’s afraid I’m still really pissed that he pawned me off on Odin, although it’s not going as bad as I thought. Odin takes us back onto the interstate and I call Jaime.

He answers almost immediately. “Hello.”

“Hey, I just got your message.”

“Yeah, what’s this you rented a brand new Cadillac?”

“Odin needs more leg space,” I say, embarrassed that Odin can hear me. I’m suddenly not feeling so confident about my earlier decision to be spiteful, but I try to embrace the mood I left in.

“That’s bullshit, Lila. I know exactly what you’re doing.”

“What am I doing? I’m on the road without you, doing our work, just like you asked. So what if I rented a nice car?” I can hardly believe the words coming out of me. I don’t want Odin to think I am a pushover, yet at the same time I’m still embarrassed to be having this conversation at all.

“Don’t fucking try and guilt trip me, Lila! You know why I can’t go!” he shouts.

I notice Odin is looking at me. “Whatever Jaime. It’s done. We’re already safely in New Mexico. Thanks for asking.”

“Well I’m glad to hear that your smartass has safely made it into New Mexico.” His voice is sarcastic and I can tell that he’s still irritated. I just want to get off the phone.

“’Kay, well I will talk to you later.”

“Later,” he says and hangs up before I do.

“Everything okay?” Odin asks me.

“Yeah.”

“Marital problems?” he asks.

I’m not about to start talking shit on Jaime to Odin. Not that I don’t want to, I just don’t want him to think I’m a bitch or something. He already sided with me about the running situation, but still, who wants to hear it? I’m embarrassed that my marriage is such a wreck in less than two years.

“It’s nothing,” I say rolling my eyes. Odin’s quiet. It can be hard to fall asleep, the constant fear of being pulled over in the back of your head. But with the soft beats of the Ramones playing in the Caddy, I doze off.

I hardly wake at all, even when we stop for gas in the early morning. We arrive in San Antonio about 11 am. Chuck comes out to help us unload. Apparently Odin and Chuck know each other, though I’m not sure how.

“What are you two doing riding together?” Chuck asks me.

“Jaime’s busy,” Odin answers for me, and I’m relieved.

I smile at him and he returns the gesture. Even after 20 good hours of not sleeping, he’s witty and he looks the exact same as when I picked him up. I’m beginning to see what Erica is so enthralled with.

Snap out of it!
My married side chimes in again.

We wheel our personal bags and the hot bags into the large cabin-style house. Crystal is inside cleaning the floors. She looks like shit. Every time I see her she looks skinnier. I hear she’s been battling with meth and it makes me really hesitant to let her weigh out bags of coke. I definitely will be overseeing the sales.

A few people stop by to purchase bags from us. Chuck tells us about a potential new large buyer he might be able to set us up with. Some guy called T-Dawg wants to meet up with us in Ruston, northern Louisiana. I look at Odin who doesn’t seem to be showing any emotion about crossing into the Louisiana border. Chuck says he’d take an SUV loaded down with cocaine, we’d just have to meet up somewhere secluded. It sounds a little shady, but if it worked out it would be quick and easy, and a great payout. Either way, we’ll have to run it by Felix first.

After a long day, we all turn in early. The spare room is apparently under renovations, so Odin and I take the couches. And here I thought I might steal a moment of privacy, although I’m relieved not to leave the luggage unattended in the living room. I’d have felt like a bitch pulling it into the bedroom. My couch isn’t comfortable, and there’s a terrible ruckus of crickets and howling coyotes outside. I toss and turn all night. Odin is fast asleep and snoring lightly. I remember that he hadn’t slept the whole way here, and I can’t imagine anything waking him.

The next day we sit and wait for people to come over and buy. Chuck has set up several customers for us, some who I’ve met before and some I don’t recognize. He hosts sales while Crystal makes herself busy around the cabin. She’s definitely tweaking. She makes us breakfast and lunch but I notice she hardly touches her own food.

That evening, Odin and I are sitting out on the patio. Plates break in the kitchen and Chuck and Crystal start to yell at each other. I so don’t want to spend another night here.

“Wanna hit the road tonight?” Odin asks as if he’s read my mind. Apparently Crystal and Chuck’s fight is making him feel awkward too. “I’m good to drive till dawn.”

I feel bad making him drive, but he’s offering and no part of me wants to spend another night on the couch.

“Are you sure?”

“I’ll load the car.” He doesn’t give me time to question him further. Chuck is hardly surprised we are leaving early. I hug him and I tell him I’m sorry. I mean for Crystal, which I assume he knows too. He shakes hands with Odin before we depart.

Once the Caddy is loaded again, we begin our journey back home. Jaime and I have been text fighting all day. We had a lot of fights about me going on this trip alone, and they never really got resolved. My phone buzzes relentlessly in my purse. I’m sure Odin can sense what’s going on, but thankfully he doesn’t mention it. I try to stay awake and keep him company for a while, but eventually I fall asleep.

When I wake, we are parked at the truck stop in New Mexico. It’s 8am and Odin is sleeping. I’m glad he knows his limits and has decided to pull off for a few. I’d rather be roughing it here then at Chuck and Crystal’s right now, although he could have woke me up.

I get out and head to the bathroom. A trucker whistles at me from a far.
Yuck!
Men! I make my way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I don’t look so good. I try to splash some water on my face and clean the makeup from under my eyes. I pull my hair tie free and fluff my long curly hair around my face and shoulders, trying to hide some of the wear in my face.
That’s better.

When I get back to the Caddy, the trucker is nowhere to be seen. Odin is awake and checking his iPhone.

“Want me to drive?” I ask him.

“Nah, I’m good for a while longer,” he says starting the engine.

I’m surprised, but I walk around to my side of the car and get in. The Caddy’s leather seats are heated. Odin heads west on the 10 for an hour or so, before pulling off again. At first I think we are stopping for food or gas, or to switch places, but we head a couple miles down a main road.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. He just smiles a big, somewhat mischievous smile.

“You’ll see.”

We go on another two miles, then he gets into a turn lane. There’s a big sign on the corner that says Big Gus Amusement Park, with an arrow pointing right.
NO!

Odin turns right and sure enough pulls into the Big Gus parking lot.

“Seriously?” I’m shocked to say the least.

“I thought we’d stop for some fun. It’s half the appeal you know,” he says, quoting me.

I toss my phone into the glove box. Jaime can leave his complaints in a voicemail. Odin and I spend the day riding coasters and having a blast. Who knew Odin would be so much fun.

Before we leave I buy a pen that’s shaped like Big Gus, where his hat lights up when you press on his belt buckle. I don’t bother to check my phone when we get back into the car. I take my turn behind the wheel.

Odin dozes off once were back on the interstate. I again wonder how long he drove last night. It must have been at least 8 hours. I turn on some music and try to keep my thoughts light for the next few hundred miles. Despite all that’s going on at home, I feel good right now. I put a seriously girly mix of music in the player, while Odin is sleeping and can’t judge me. Alicia Keys, Taylor Swift, and Adele carry me all the way back to the California border.

The greater Los Angeles radio station is playing when Odin stirs back awake. He seems surprised he has slept this far.

“Almost there, but we’ll have to stop for gas soon,” I inform him.

He nods.

When we stop, he pumps while I sit in the car. It’s funny, but when I left on Sunday, I was dreading this whole trip so much. Now I’m not looking forward to going back home. I know I left in a terrible mood and now I have to face Jaime. Suddenly I wish I had driven a little slower.

It’s well past dark when we get to the dealership. They are closed, but Geoff meets us there. I take Odin back to the club’s house. He carries the bag of money into the Fort. It’s so weird to be walking in here with him. Usually Jaime does this part alone, but I want to make sure I get my fair share, so I follow Odin into the safe room.

Jack and Felix are sitting down having a beer and talking amongst themselves. Felix stands to give Odin a one-armed hug, then regards me with a smile.

“How’d it go?” Felix asks us, as Jack begins examining the money.

“I think it went well,” Odin says looking to me.

I nod my head and agree.

“Good,” Felix says, no doubt happy to hear that this route will remain covered with no complications. Jack hands both me and Odin a stack of cash.

“Good job, kids. Don’t spend it all in one place now,” he jokes.

I smile, amused, tossing the money into my purse and laughing. Then Odin and I walk out to the bar.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure Lila,” he says, extending a hand out to me. When I reach out to shake it, he takes it to his lips and kisses me on the back of my palm. It’s an over-the-top gesture, but sweet nonetheless.

“See you next time,” I say, already looking forward to it.

“Indeed.” He smiles back at me, and we part ways.

Chapter 2
Home is Where the Heart Aches

I pull into the driveway and Jaime’s truck isn’t here. It’s past 10:00 PM and I wonder where he is. The painful thought that he is seeing someone else stabs at me.

I quietly make my way in. Erica is up watching TV, Jemma is asleep in her arms, and Chase is already in bed. I wave at her and she smiles back at me. I make my way into my bedroom and, like the rest of the house, it’s a total wreck. I kick my shoes off and lay my purse and sweater down on the bed.

I pull the stack of cash out of my purse and I count $7,000. That’s funny, Jaime told me we only make $10,000 on this run. Odin got half, which means we normally would get $14,000. I wish I could say I’m surprised that he’s been lying to me. Makes me wonder what he’s been doing with the rest.

I leave the money in a pile on the dresser and head into the bathroom to run myself a hot bath. I go back into my room and shed my clothes into the hamper, then take my iPod out of my purse and head back to the bathroom. There’s a dock on the shelf above the counter in our bathroom and I put the iPod on low, filling the room with Adele, before I slip into the tub.

The water is hot and it soothes my muscles. I get sore sitting in a car for so many hours, although the Caddy wasn’t so bad. I close my eyes and relax, but it’s hard to do since I’m wondering where Jaime is and why the hell he’s been lying to me about the money we make. Is there any chance Jack made a mistake?
No
.

This bath is too perfect to waste dwelling on it. I take a hit of pot, and lean my head back into the bubbles, taking myself back to Big Gus Amusement Park. A smile takes hold of my face despite all the bullshit. I doze off in the tub.

When I wake, the water is lukewarm at best and I am cold. Standing up, I turn the shower hose on hot and let the water drain from the tub as I rinse down in hot water. I dry off and brush out my hair while it’s wet. I wrap myself in my night robe, brush my teeth, and silence the iPod. There’s still no sign of Jaime. I take another couple hits and then tuck myself into bed.

In the morning Jaime is still not here. I laze in bed a while before I have to get up and pee. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror and my hair is like a red lion’s mane consuming my face. I look like I stepped out of an 80’s music video, but it’s a look I can pull off.

When I come back into the bedroom, I notice that the money is still sitting on top of the dresser and a spiteful idea crosses my mind. I make my way over to the dresser and pull out my clothes, getting dressed in front of the vanity. I go with a pair of black jeans and a red top with the bust all cut out and sleeves cut off at the shoulder. On it is a picture of Janis Joplin’s face bellowing into the microphone.

I take the money from the dresser and leave behind just $1,000. After I cover the bills, that will leave me with about $2,000 and on my next run, I will keep most of it for myself. Fuck Jaime if he can’t be fair. I’m doing all the work now, and where the hell is he? I think I should get to dictate who gets what share!

I take myself out to breakfast at Bernadette’s Café on Main Street. Breakfast tastes great on what would be Jaime’s dime. When I’m finished, I go to the bank and put $1,000 in cash into my safety deposit box, there’s about $13,000 in there all together. A small rainy day fund I have been working on lately. Jaime doesn’t know I have a safety deposit box here.

Next I head to the post office to check my PO Box. Jaime doesn’t know I have a PO Box either. I’m sad when the letter I’m hoping to find isn’t here. Not at all surprised, but still disappointed.

I grab groceries and head home. Jaime is here now. I can see him working in the garage as I pull up.

“Need a hand?” he offers, as I begin to pull bags out of the trunk.

“Sure.”

Jaime follows me into the kitchen with bags.

“How’d it go?” he asks.

I don’t want him to think for a second I’m not mad just because it went a lot better than I had expected. “It was fine,” I say not looking at him.

“Are you good to do it again?” he asks as if he cares.

“Does it matter?” I say without hesitating.

“Was it that bad?” he asks surprised.

“No,” I admit reluctantly. In fact, I am willing to do it again. But I’m still mad at him, for all the same reasons.

“Where’s the money?” he asks as I continue putting things away.

“Your share is on the dresser,” I say, still avoiding eye contact.

“I love you,” he says.

“I love you too.” I’m too tired to fight.

I finish up and I start to make a dinner in the crock pot.

I take a break on the back porch, my favorite part of the house. I overlook my little garden that is well overgrown and not producing anything at the moment. I pack my pipe with weed and take a hit while sitting back into my porch swing. The birds are chirping and the sun is shining down on me. Maybe things aren’t so bad. Maybe Jaime’s whole court thing will blow over and things will get back to the way they used to be.

Jaime walks out the sliding glass door behind me. “Lila, there’s only $1000 bucks in there,” he says, confused.

“Yeah. Odin got half and I need the rest for our bills and stuff right now. We owe your lawyer $1000 at the moment and court hasn’t even started.” I tell him defensively.

He sighs, but he doesn’t actually argue with me. “Shit,” he says realizing he’s on a budget for the first time since I have known him.

“Odin and I will take off again next week,” I say exasperated. What does he expect me to do? He knew we would have to share the money with Odin. As it is, I have taken on more work for the time being trying to compensate, which we both know is dangerous.

He takes a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and lights one.
Yuck.
I smoke pot, but I have always hated cigarettes. Jaime’s hooked on them. Lately Jaime’s hooked on a lot of bad things: alcohol, cocaine, and perhaps some other woman. There it is again, the painful thought in the back of my head.

I take another hit off my pipe, trying to rid the smell of his smoke with my own. We both sit at the patio table in silence staring off at the landscape.

“Where were you last night?” I’ve been dreading asking, but I need to know.

“There was a party at Sean White’s house last night. Me and Jeff rolled over there and wound up getting too drunk to drive home so we crashed. I didn’t think you’d be back last night.”

I shudder. I know exactly what kind of drunken frat boy madness goes on at Sean White’s parties and I hate to think that Jaime went without me. I’m sure there were girls everywhere running around topless. Sean is notorious for his parties.

“We left early,” I say, not bothering to go into detail about the awkward situation we encountered at Chuck and Crystal’s.

“Should have called,” he says.

Shit, I guess he is right. He didn’t have any way of knowing I’d be back or he might have come home last night. The thought of him being at Sean’s house unattended still makes me uncomfortable. I know there were probably drunk chicks all over him.

“You should mow the grass,” I comment, staring at the overgrown yard.

“Yes, dear,” he says in an agitated manner, putting his cigarette out on the table and tossing it into the planter full of butts. He then stammers off toward the shed.

I roll my eyes at his back, taking another hit of pot. I hear the mower start up on the other side of the yard. The back patio is no longer a peaceful place, and I head back inside to our bedroom. I decide to lie down for a while, and without meaning to I fall asleep.

When I awake it’s past six and I hurry into the living room to check on the crock pot. You can’t really overdo pot roast, and it has simmered to perfection. Erica and the kids help themselves, but Jaime is too busy with something in the garage to come in and eat with us. By the time he makes it in, I’m just clearing our plates from the table.

The next couple of days go on like this, not screaming and fighting, but not really getting along either. Just living. I feel more and more like I am just going through the motions, even with sex. I’m happy when it is Monday and I go to see my therapist, Dr. Burkhart. I still think that making the decision to see her has been beneficial. I wish I was able to talk Jaime into couples counseling, but the one-on-one time I get with Dr. Burkhart is gratifying.

I walk into her office, and the receptionist greets me and has me sign in. Then I wait for a few minutes in the pastel-colored waiting room until Dr. Burkhart calls me in. Jean Burkhart is a tall woman in her forties with short, black hair that is starting to go gray gracefully. She greets me kindly with a hug, and we make our way into her secluded office.

I take a seat on the large red lounge chair and relax into it, putting my feet up. It’s cliché of the therapist office, but I have always found it gives the whole appointment a comical and casual feel.

As usual we get started with me telling her the things that have happened to me recently. Dr. Burkhart knows I travel for a living, but has no idea about the illegal aspects behind what I do. I have told her all about mine and Jaime’s problems, though I have always been too ashamed to tell her how physical our fights have become. We have even talked about my past, growing up with the bible forced down my throat, being shipped off to Christian school, and all the things that happened to me there. Dr. Burkhart knows everything there is to legally know about me. Now I come to her mostly to sort out the problems of my here and now. She has lots of good advice about trying to find an inner peaceful place instead of fueling the fire when fighting with Jaime. She’s helped me find ways to sleep better, turned me onto bath salts, and even prescribed me marijuana. We have formed a very good relationship.

Dr. Burkhart and I start with discussing my marriage. We have been evaluating whether I should take action in trying to fix our problems and mend our relationship, or take bigger leaps away from it all together. First I start by telling her about our most recent fights and she asks if I know why it is that I battle his bad actions with more bad actions. I don’t know why, I guess it just makes me feel better.

We stay on the topic for about 15 minutes before we begin talking about the positive aspects of my marriage. Then we talk about the better times, and my heart aches as the memories of Jaime and I flood into my mind. Like the night he asked me to be his girlfriend officially. He took me to dinner at Eric Ericson’s seafood on the pier in Ventura. When we finished our dinner, we walked the beach for a couple of miles. We went so far we could no longer see the pier’s lights in the dark. He was carrying my heels in one hand and had the other draped around me. We were talking about anything and everything, just to keep from having to turn around and go home. And finally we took a seat in the sand, no one around for miles, just the sound of the ocean, and started kissing.

We had sex, only it crossed the line between making love and just fucking. It was the first time we had really achieved that level of intimacy. Then we laid in each other’s arms in the sand, listening to the waves break, and he asked me if I wanted to be his lady.
Lady.
I had high hopes for the title then. I gladly accepted. It was a summer night and it never really got too cold to be there, but eventually we walked all the way back to the pier, fingers laced and hearts full.

Dr. Burkhart asks if Jaime took me to that same beach today and asked me to start over again what I would say. I honestly don’t know. I want to say that if I could genuinely believe that he wanted to start over, I would say yes. But he would have to give up coke and make several other changes, too.

Then she asks if we went back in time to that night, knowing what I know now, would I still say yes, and this is an even more puzzling question. I had imagined being someone’s “lady” to be much more luxurious then I feel now. In one hand I do have my dream car, the charcoal black Mustang GT convertible. I have a nice house close to the beach in a high end part of Santa Monica. I have the treasures to show for it, but I couldn’t be further from being happy. All these things mean little to me without the love I need from Jaime as a mate. It’s as if I have been living with a hollowness inside me and trying to fill it with expensive things.

Jaime never tells me no when it comes to money. I have a closet full of shoes and nice clothes. He always gives me jewelry for Valentine’s, Christmas, and our anniversary. I’m always equipped with the latest in technology and these things make me happy, but then we fight, and they don’t do anything for me. What good is a diamond bracelet that says
I love you
, if the person who gave it to you doesn’t come home at night? Or better yet comes home high and throws you around.

Our first Valentine’s Day was another fancy dinner at an elite restaurant I never thought I’d be able to afford to eat at. Jaime bought us a $400 bottle of wine, I ate escargot for the first time, and it was amazing. We acquired some expensive tastes, and as if the dinner wasn’t impressive, he gave me a diamond bracelet engraved with the words
I love you
. How could I ever have resisted his charms? I felt like I could look down on the people who had abandoned me or used me in my youth and make them all jealous with my success. But lately I feel like it’s just a show. If anyone cared to dig into just how successful I really am, they’d find me in a failing, abusive marriage, risking life in prison hauling drugs across state lines.

I find myself lying in Dr. Burkhart’s chair, holding myself, no closer to any kind of answer an hour later and my time is up. I sigh when I hear the ping of the timer. On one hand, I’m relieved to not have to dig any deeper in to my generally dark feelings. On the other hand, I’m disappointed that I still have no answers.

I make an appointment with Stephanie at the front desk for a Thursday two weeks from now. As I walk outside and see my charcoal gray Mustang sitting in the parking lot, I try to remember just how excited I was the day I got it. But truthfully, there is only one way to achieve that level of excitement.

BOOK: Caught in the Devil's Sheets
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