Your Favorite Girl (YFG Series) (6 page)

I watched in horror as Ted's legs kicked frantically and then began to stiffen, bouncing like the legs of a bored child.  I didn't remember the taser in the black case until he'd stopped moving altogether and Mr. Moses flung him back to the floor.

The next few minutes I hardly remember.  In a state of shock, I got a hold of the taser, zapped Mr. Moses, who fell aside twitching, then grabbed Flora Girl by the wrist and pulled her off the bed and down the hall.

The electric feel of her skin drew me out of my hazy state of mind, and I was suddenly determined to get away from here with her—to be alone with her.  From that point on, I had no other motive.  She was mine.  Nothing else mattered.

We were both buck naked, but I didn't give it a moment's thought.  I led Flora Girl down the hallway where I'd hid in the bathroom, all the way to the end, where a door led into the garage.

I kept a spare set of keys in a coffee can on the shelf after several instances of Ted either deliberately locking me out of the house or taking off on a business trip without notice and leaving me without keys.

We were in the car waiting for the garage door to open when Mr. Moses came bursting out of the hallway
.  I frantically hit the door lock, even though it locked automatically when I shifted into reverse and backed out, scraping the hood on the bottom of the garage door.

I gunned it down the driveway, which curved on a slight slope down to the cul-de-sac, which luckily today was unoccupied by children riding bicycles or throwing a baseball.

Mr. Moses was upon us in seconds.  He jumped on the hood as I shifted into drive and spun a donut.  I slammed on the brakes and he went sliding off, hitting the ground hard and rolling.

As I drove away, I noticed Flora Girl was fingering her
self.

─
Faking It─

I DROVE hours north of Indianapolis, almost all the way to Gary, stopping only once at a rest area to grab my suitcase out of the trunk, the one I'd packed several days before in a heated attempt to leave Ted.

Of course, two truckers and a you
ng couple saw me bent over with my head in the trunk, still completely naked.  I'd waited until I thought the coast was clear, but they came out of the building all at once.

I tossed the suitcase in the backseat, opened it, and pulled out the first two dresses I could find: one white
and strapless with a quilted texture and an elastic hem above the chest, the other a simple red cocktail dress.

I stepped into the red dress because it was the more difficult to put on
.  Who knew if Flora Girl had ever even changed her own clothes?

As I was zipping the back up,
I noticed the truckers coming towards the car.

"You okay, honey
, you need some help?" one of them said in a raspy voice.

Pretending
not to hear them, I climbed in, shut the door, and hit the lock.

Flora Girl had fallen asleep with her hand on her crotch.  I guess her body could only handle its own sexual drive for so long.  She looked beautiful slouched down in the seat, knees touching, head resting on her arm against the door panel.  A streak of blonde hair covered one breast, but the other rose and fell with her breathing,
exposed, the nipple raised up and hardened as she moaned quietly in her sleep.

The two men crowded around the car, peeking in the window, tapping on it, saying things their wives would shudder to hear.

I ignored them, focusing instead on slipping the dress over Flora Girl's head, then pulling her forward so I could get it down her back.  To my surprise, this didn't wake her, and though I thought pulling her arms through the top would definitely make her stir, she still slept like a baby.

With the dress pulled down over her hips, held in place with the hand she'd
used to masturbate until finally passing out an hour out of the city, I started the car and backed out, not making eye contact with the truckers, whose tones had turned impatient and now bordered on angry.  Indeed, derogatory exclamations chased us down the entrance ramp.

When I started seeing signs for
Gary, I took an exit and pulled into the first hotel I could find that looked like it had a bar inside.

In the parking lot, I debated for quite some time over whether or not to leave Flora Girl in the car while I rented a room, but when
I opened the car door, she opened her eyes and looked at me.

"My stomach hurts," she said, which took me by surprise.  This was the first time she'd said anything besides "Fuck me," and "I love you."

"Are you hungry?" I asked.

"I don't know," she breathed.
  "I want to fuck really bad."  She looked afraid, as though abstinence might kill her.

"We're gonna check into
a hotel room, okay?  Then we'll get something to eat."

"Okay."

"Do you want to wait here while I get the room?"

"No," Flora Girl said quickly, eyes darting around the car.

"What's wrong?"

She was shaking.  I noticed her hand sliding up her hip, her legs spreading slowly.

"Flora G-"  I paused.  "What's your name, sweetie?"

"Flora
," she said, now rubbing her clit with her middle finger.

She didn't have a real name.  Just a p
roduct title.

"Flora," I said.  "I need you to stop . . . doing that."

She stopped instantly and dropped her head, as if in shame.

"What would you like me to do?"

I didn't know what to say.  She must have been trained to obey commands.  By what methods I could only imagine.  The way she shied from me when I gave her an instruction.  She could have been beaten.  In the Showcase Hall, she'd looked like a purely sexual creature, a moving sculpture of soft tissue and nerve endings.

Now she just looked like a frightened young girl.

What a conundrum she presented.  I wanted to protect her, but I wanted to violate her, too.

"When we get to the lobby, I want you to just stand there.  If someone talks to you, you can talk back, but no touching yourself.  Okay?"

"Okay."

We crossed the parking lot clo
se together, but I made sure not to touch her.  It was a miracle I'd managed to resist her so far.

I suppose we looked like two porn stars on lunch break, tiny dresses, no bras, no shoes, our bodies reeking of sex, not to mention the intoxicating scent of Flora.
  The young clerk behind the counter perked up when he saw us.  He looked half-Korean or something, like someone who should be working for the Geek Squad.  He stared at Flora with wide eyes and a slightly open mouth.

"Can-can I help you?" he managed to say.

"We'd like a room," I said.

"One bed or two?"

I looked at Flora, then at the clerk.  I smiled.  "Just one, please."

His face flushed and he coughed.

"Let me just check," he said, tapping at the keyboard with his quick fingers.  "Okay, yep.  We have a king-size bed with a balcony on the third floor."  He read off the total and asked for a photo ID and credit card, which I already had prepared.

As
he fumbled with my card, overwhelmed as he was by Flora's presence, a group of college kids entered the lobby.  They were clearly drunk.

"Day-umn!" one boy said.

"Lookin' good, girls," said another.

The first one slapped the second on the arm.  "Check it out.  They're not wearing any shoes, man."

Something that needed to be remedied.

They filed out
the door, the last one among them saying, "Goddamn, that blonde girl is fucking hot."

"Flora," I said.  "I need you to stay here.  I'll be right back."

"No," she cried, grabbing for my arm.

I jerked away just in time.

"Just for a sec," I assured her.  "You'll be able to see me.  I'm just going outside."

"
No
," she repeated.

"Is she sick?" the clerk asked.

"She's fine."

"Are you sure?  She's shivering."

"I'm really horny," Flora said.

The clerk burst out laughing, but it only took him a moment to realize she was being s
erious.  A tear broke on the rim of her eyelid and went streaking down her cheek.

This was getting bad.  By the look on the clerk's face, I could tell he knew something was off about us.

Still, I wanted some shoes.  I hadn't packed any in my bag.

"I'll be right back," I said, then looked at the clerk.  "Don't you dare touch her, you got it?"

"Excuse me?" the clerk said, curling his brow to show me how offended he was.  "You know we do reserve the right to refuse service to hostile customers."

But you won't
, I thought.
  You wouldn't turn her away if it meant saving your mother's life.

Suddenly I heard barking and turned to see a small grey poodle skittering towards us, its claws scraping on the slippery tile.  Flora knelt to pet the dog and it went berserk, pawing at her and trying to lick her, dancing on its hind legs.

It had a boner to rival that of Mr. Moses.

"Hi puppy," Flora whispered, addressing the dog no differently than she addressed humans.  For the briefest of moments, she might have passed for a normal person.

Then an old woman shuffled in calling out, "Bartleby!  Bartleby, you wicked little devil!  Come here!  You come here, I said!"

The dog wasn't listening, Flora was still molesting it, and the group of college kids were out of sight.

"Be right back," I said and ran out the door.

I caught up to them halfway across the parking lot.
  It hadn't occurred to me to formulate what to say to them, so I just said, "Hey."  They all stopped and turned, and I made eye contact with the closest girl.  "How much for those shoes?"

The girl giggled.  "What?"

"Your shoes," I said.  "I'll give you a hundred dollars for them."

She smirked.  "Uh . . . they cost more than that?"

"Fine, three hundred."

This time h
er eyes lit up.  "Are you serious?"

"Yes."

She turned to the guy next to her, who shrugged and then resumed staring at my boobs with a big I'm-rock-hard-right-now grin on his face. 

I
n her effort to remove the first shoe, the girl fell into the guy, laughing and hugging him for support.  Then another boy stormed over from their car and grabbed her by the arm, jerking her away from him.  An argument began to swell, fueled by drunken jealousy.

I made the trade off
when the guys took over the conversation, sticking their chests out and deepening their voices as boys do when they fight over vagina.  Then I approached another girl in the group and made the same offer.  She quickly came out of her shoes, too.  I slipped these on and rushed back to the lobby just in time to escape the physical altercation erupting between the boys.

When I came through the door, I froze in panic.  Flora Girl stood facing the clerk with her dress pulled down to the small of her back.  The old woman and the dog were gone.  Luckily no one else was around.

I stormed over to Flora, hiked her dress back up over her chest, and shot the drooling clerk an angry look.  He didn't notice, and that pissed me off even more.

"What the hell did you do?"
I shouted at him.

"Hey, I didn't do anything
," he said, throwing up his hands.  "Ask her.  She just whipped them out."

"What did he do, Flora?"

She cast her eyes to the floor.  "He was staring," she said, "so I thought he wanted to see them."

"Flora, you can't go around taking your clothes off."

"I can't?"

"No.  It's illegal."

"What's that mean?"

"It means
the police will come and take you to jail."

"What's jail?"

A million dollars per day rental fee and they couldn't even educate the poor girl?

"I'll explain later," I said, turning to the clerk.  "Can I have my room key, please?"

"You guys are crazy," the clerk said.  "Here."

He handed my credit card back along with the card key to the room.  "Take the elevator to the third floor, go left to the end of the hall, then ri
ght.  Room 3109 is on the left."  I offered him a mocking smile and he said, "First sign of trouble from you and that's it.  You're outta here."

"Whatever," I said.

We rode the elevator alone and finally I began to feel a little relieved.  No one around to attack Flora, no one to be suspicious of us.

Unburdened by tension and anxiety, I now felt exhausted, physically and emotionally.  I hadn't even had time to process the fact that my husband was dead.
  Choked out and pitched aside like an empty tube of toothpaste.  The snap of his neck began to replay in my mind and it made me sick.