Episode: Fatal Retraction
Dim Sum Challenge: "Through Another's Eyes"
Trashy Girls
During my first trial, I overheard Dr. Easton talking to DDA Powell about my old girlfriends. He told her I liked "women with a touch of sleaze." What a polite way to describe a demographic: trailer park dwellers, with breath smelling of Marlboros and tramp stamps peeking out below tight tank tops. Trashy girls.
It was the only thing that shrink ever got right about me.
The girls that daddy neglected, or the ones who never had a daddy at all, were the ladies who came running when I called. They shared their cigarettes and their beds eagerly, and getting them drunk enough to do exactly what I wanted was never a problem, because how much does a six pack of Bud cost? But best of all, they expected so little, which is exactly how much I wanted to give.
I admit, I have a type. Give me long blonde hair-from a bottle or from god, I wasn't choosy- and a tight little body, not too many brains, and I was a happy man.
Meeting my dream girl at the LAPD the day I found out Lisa Barnes just died was almost as good as the news that I was getting out of jail. Beautiful long locks to match a flawless face and a figure she clearly wanted me to notice. I wondered what Just Plain Brenda's tattoo looked like, perched on the curve of her delicious ass, and imagined running my hand slowly down her back over and over again. As hot as I was for her body, though, it was what came out of her mouth that really ensnared me. That accent. That honeyed Southern cadence flowed out of her mouth and evoked images of kudzu and magnolia trees and sweet tea and sweaty bodies sticking to each other from the heat. If we were alone I would put my mouth on her swanlike neck and press my tongue against that white skin of hers. I was sure sure she tasted like peaches. Just Plain Brenda, she said her name was. Nothing plain about her in the least.
I noticed her eyes didn't look away from mine when challenged like most women I meet, too unsure of themselves to stand their ground. I'm quick to establish myself as boss, as owner, and girls are quick to accede, nervous little hands with red plastic nails twisting in their laps, secretly hoping in exchange for control I will give them love. Fools. But Just Plain Brenda wasn't about to give me anything, And so I had to try and take what I wanted.
Not a flinch. She didn't even blink her eyes. The chair I flipped on the table made such a racket in the little room that hurt my ears, but I saw no reaction from my Southern princess. I knew now then that she was very, very different from my usual type, and I wondered what Dr. Easton would think. I was certain after my little test that her petite back was barren of ink, and she had all of her original teeth. She most likely eschewed cheap beer in lieu of wine. and she didn't hang out in crappy bars or spend her welfare checks on cigarettes and lottery oh, that hair, that sweet, lithe body, and that voice…I want to be lulled into another reality by that voice. I was sure I knew that Just Plain Brenda was anything but plain.
And I was right. My lawyer told me she really was. Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. Highest ranking female in the LAPD. No touch of sleaze in this one. I needed to write her off, but I couldn't. The longing just drew stronger, and I was furious with my own desire. I had to see her again, when she wasn't trying to play me, in hopes I would be repelled enough to purge her from my mind. My lawyer took me to her office, and I saw who she really was. She ruled men from big office, even bossed Flynn—Flynn—around, with an air of authority around her, and yet that wasn't enough to squash my growing obsession. Educated and powerful. I hated women like her. Don't I?
It was very risky, going to her house. I waited for hours on her porch, and the reaction was what I expected. A gun in my face. Cops. Flynn smacking me around on the way to the station. But it was worth it, all the trouble. Completely worth it.
Why? My faith in my taste in women was restored. When she Brenda dropped her groceries at my intrusion, a box of Ho-hos fell out.
She's got a little trailer park in her after all.
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