AN: Shoot, sorry this is taking seemingly forever. Classes are ripping me a new one. First I'd like to thank the awesome folks who have been following my trip with Mac. Thank you also for all the incredibly observant reviews. Yes I do have a small obsession with coffee and bacon, and I was hungry when I wrote that. ^_^ It's my first nonlinear attempt, so if it comes off as scatter brained please let me know.
VeritasKym: Technically Kari and Mark have not dated. They are friends who ended up in a physical relationship. Ava hates her, because those two have been friends for a long time, and stay friends or more as significant others come and go. I think she questions Kari's motives.
Caffiend04: oh it's a coming (budum bum)
SaraLostInes: I am so pleased you caught that. Explanations to be found in a future chapter. I promise I won't take forever on that.
As always please continue with your reading and reviewing. ^_^_^_^_^_^_^_^ AN
Thirteen days ago:
Kneeling on the bed, Kari poured all her attention into rolling another cigarette. A plastic Tupperware container sat to her right, half full with freshly rolled cigarettes. A loud moan seeped through the walls of the little guest room. She paused her work for only a second to roll her eyes at the direction from which the sound came. They'd been at it all afternoon. Like a pair of damn rabbits. As she dabbed her tongue along the edge of the paper, a succession of scrapping sounds wrenched through the air. Kari cringed at the ungodly sound, telling herself it was due to the nails on the chalkboard similarity.
"I'm Henry the Eighth I am," she sang aloud to herself. "Henry the Eighth I am, I am." The scraping sound dissolved into an obnoxious thumping.
"I got married to the widow next door," her song growing louder to muffle the sound. "She's been married…"
"Oh, God! Yes!" Ava's scream ripped through the room, catching her in the gut.
"Fuck it." Kari popped the cigarette between her lips and headed for the door. The sexual soundtrack was louder in the living room, but if she could pass through that uncomfortable barricade, she could reach that blissful silence outside. She rushed through the swamp of auditory unpleasantness, yanking open the door. Letting the screen door shut with a crack behind her, Kari swept out into the open air. She blinked rapidly, trying to combat the surprising intensity of a setting sun. Her fingers dug through her pockets, clasping a small lighter tucked into its caverns. As she brought the bright flickering flame to the tip of her cigarette, a faint rumble rippled through the dirt laden horizon. Inhaling, Kari lifted a hand to her brow to shield her eyes. A red truck, framed in the descending sun roared down the road. Whirlwind dust storms erupted from its tires. She watched curiously as it tore off into the distance.
Dropping her hand to her side, Kari made her way down the length of the porch to a rocking chair. Its old wooden frame creaked under her weight as she rocked back and forth. The last lingering rays of dying light flitted across the clumps of shrubs and trees, as though allowing the sun its last lover's strokes of the leaves, before the moon chased it away. Kari watched in silence as the sun departed, surrendering to the newborn evening. The trip had left her physically worn out and emotionally strung out.
After what seemed like ages of endless highways and scattered towns, they'd finally reached their destination. The road turned from the well maintained smooth path of the highway to the rock covered bouncy tread of dirt roads. The car pulled up to a pleasant enough looking single story house. Its pastel blue colored walls were welcoming enough. They'd dragged their bags from the car through the front door. Inside was a startling array of wicker furniture and lace lined curtains. In a less exhausted state, Kari would have been taken aback by the strange decorating taste, but her sleep heavy eyes rearranged her priorities. The second she'd crossed the threshold to the guest room, she'd dropped her bags to her right and collapsed face first into a firm, quilt covered bed. In the moment it had taken for the mattress to bounce back against her prone form, she'd drifted off into a dark peaceful abyss, that'd kept her in its grasp well into the next afternoon.
The horizon was murky with the dust the truck had kicked up in its wake. As she stomped out the cigarette, she wondered who was in the truck.
Present
"I wanna talk to the sonovabitch!" Mark's shout wracked the walls with its strangled edge.
Harley kept his arm locked around the struggling man's neck. "Yea, that ain't happenin'."
Mark jerked about, his hands tearing for some sort of leverage. Harley kept him physically detained, hoping to eventually ease him into a chair. When Sheriff Pratt had returned from the hospital, he'd given express orders for the missing girl's friend to not be allowed past the waiting room. The second the small police station received the pleasurable announcement of Mark's arrival, in the form of the door nearly slamming off of its hinges, Harley had vaulted out of his seat and scrambled to the door. Though he had not seen the intruder, it was obvious who'd caused the raucous. No one else in town had anything to throw a fit about. Not that he blamed the poor guy, but orders were orders. He'd managed to talk the twister of a man down for a second, only to have it shattered by very familiar laughter sneaking around the corner of the hall leading to the holding cells.
"Want some dinner?"
Kari looked up at the sound of Mark's voice coming from the doorway. A very satisfied face smiled happily at her from behind the screen.
"Is that a rhetorical question?" she asked as she pulled herself up from the rocking chair.
"Kinda," he admitted, holding the door open for her.
"Ok," she sighed. "I'll be out in the car in a second."
Kari headed back to her room to toss a few of her smokes into a little metal case, and took the case into her pocket. When she emerged, shutting her door behind her, Kari caught a glimpse of Mark and Ava kissing in the hallway that led to the back rooms. She clamped her mouth down, shutting the flood gates before her gag reflex got the better of her. Her feet pattered lightly against the floor as she quickly made her way to the car, shuffling herself into the back seat. Kari bunkered down, watching the face suckers stealing each other's saliva. She popped her head phones on and blasted her music. When Mark and Ava decided to finally detach (no doubt with a sickening popping sound) she tucked her head into her chest and closed her eyes. Sleep wasn't a possibility or a necessity. It was however an excellent way to retract from small talk. Even if the sleep was of the pretend variety. The car resumed its bouncing along on the dirt road, jostling her head against her chest. Stubborn to the core, Kari kept her eyes clamped shut, determined to not notice the hands clasped over the gear shift.
Three songs into her ordeal, the car pulled to a stop. Kari peaked out through one eye at her surroundings. Through the window sat a peculiar looking building, with string of lights, lining the railing of the porch, and a sign that read Luna Mesa. From the looks of the building, a silver lining presented itself to her: she could get a decent beer here. A new bounce in her step, Kari bounded after the couple, as they made their way to the front door. As she set foot inside the curious establishment, Kari was surprised to see a surprisingly large amount of people already eating dinner at tables. The bar itself was practically surrounded with a number of locals. An older looking man with a long goatee and mustache stood behind the bar, wiping the countertop with a rag. His salt and pepper hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that hung low on his back. Kari felt a strange unease at the way he tracked their movements.
They found an empty table near the door, and seated themselves as a slip of a waitress popped up to take their order. Kari couldn't help but glance back at the man behind the counter, who in return had not looked away from their group. Unwilling to challenge those beady predator's eyes to a staring contest, she turned her gaze out of the window. Faintly she heard Mark and Ava order some food for themselves. She should have been paying attention, and ordering as well, but something in the parking lot caught her eye. The same red truck she'd seen hightailing it down the road earlier was pulling into the parking lot. She squinted at the window, awaiting the driver to step out. A hand flew into her line of sight, pinching her nose shut, and dragging her face away from the window.
"Ow," Kari squawked while she swatted at the two fingers that held her nose captive. "What?"
"What do you want to eat?" Mark asked, releasing her nose. She rubbed the tender appendage with her palm, trying to massage the pain away.
"Could I just get a beer, please?" She asked. The waitress nodded and scribbled on a notepad.
"You sure about that?" Ava looked at her peculiarly, as the waitress trotted off.
"Yea." Kari answered, rubbing her nose one last time. "I'm not going on a bender here. One beer isn't going to hurt."
"No, but drifting off to wacky land all the time might." Though his words were of the chastising sort, his voice was ripe with amusement. She stuck her tongue out at him. Her tongue was retreating back into her mouth when the door opened. Instinctively curious, Kari peered over Mark's shoulder at the newcomer, or rather newcomers. A group of men were making their way from the door to the bar. Each wore some style of work clothes, caked in dirt and grime from collar to pant legs. Some wore the muck directly on their skin.
Amidst the testosterone party, stood a somewhat out of place looking face. This one, though just as dirty as his companions, had a strikingly attractive face. His dark hair hung messily about his head, framing a slender face. He sported a black mustache and goatee that, from the distance, seemed to be just extra dirt rather than facial hair. A cute little mole peeked out at the right corner of his upper lip. One of his associates must have said something entertaining, because suddenly the entire gaggle erupted with laughter. Between his enticing lips, she caught sight of his one flaw. Several of his front teeth were rotting away. Her nose turned up in disgust at the black teeth. The unfortunate lack of dental hygiene flew from her mind as she noticed his most impressive feature. In spite of the distance she was still floored by his piercing blue eyes.
Kari openly stared at him, as he plucked a bottle from behind the counter and poured himself a shot. The man behind the bar, clearly not impressed with the younger man's boldness, began speaking to him softly. When his lips stopped moving, they turned in unison to stare in her direction. Heat flooding her face, and her deer in the head lights impression in full effect, Kari quickly looked away. Her eyes, desperate for a focal point, fell upon a fish gravy sign in the window. She mouthed the words fish gravy as she intensified her focus on the little sign.
"Mac."
The one word held in its depths a sharp warning; the verbal equivalent of a taser to the spine. Kari looked out of the corner of her eye to see the bartender shake his head at the younger man, who was several paces away from where she'd last seen him. Mac. She wondered casually if it was short for something. As Mac took his place at the bar, the waitress came back placing two plastic baskets of burgers with fries and a bottle on the table. She whipped out a little bottle opener from her apron and popped open the beer.
"Want a fry?"
Kari raised an eyebrow at the fry Mark held aloft near his face. She shook her head, instead bringing the bottle to her lips. She rolled her eyes as Ava leaned over and caught the fry between her own pearly whites. Not wanting to see a Lady and the Tramp reenactment, she turned away, taking a big swig of beer.
"So when are you gonna get a boyfriend of your own?" Ava asked, apparently done with her mouth exercises.
"When the next break out happens at the nut house," She answered, knocking back another gulp of beer to hide her annoyance. Any more questions like these, and she'd finish the bottle in record time.
"Meh," Mark smirked. "That's the thing about Kari. She hates relationships, but when one does happen, it's with the worst possible guy for her." Her eyes found their way back to Mac, who was lounging at the counter. He stared openly at her, an amused calculating look on his face.
"Well sweetheart," Kari muttered polishing off her drink. "From now on, I'll send 'em to you for an interview first." She pushed back from her chair and rose from the table. Making her way to the door, she felt that ever present feeling of being watched. She'd easily bet a million bucks, that the eyes watching her were a bright blue.
Kari welcomed the cooling night air with much gratuity as she leaned against the porch railing. She closed her eyes, running her tongue back and forth over her lower lip.
"Forget your chapstick?" A soft voice broke through the silence. "Or is that an offer?" She whipped around to face the source of the deceptively soft voice. Sure enough, Mac stood with his arms crossed just outside of the door, watching her. He took a step closer to her, and ran his index finger over his bottom lip. His sharp blue eyes wandered openly over her body, taking in the contours of her timid form. Under the intense examination of those icy chips, she felt startlingly naked even as she stood there in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Well?"
Kari's mouth dropped open, in an effort to answer, but her brain failed to send anything comprehensive out. Mac quickly closed the distance between them. His broad-shouldered body pressed firmly against hers, effectively tucking her into him. A hand clamped down on her wrist holding it tightly against the wooden rails behind her, while the other snaked up her the back of her neck. Rough fingers grabbed chunks of her short black locks, yanking her head back.
"Yea, that's an offer," he murmured before leaning in to claim her lips. His mouth plundered hers, as he pried her lips apart, forcing his tongue between her teeth. The pungent flavor of rotted teeth filled her mouth, mixing with a the stale smell of sweat flooding her nose. Despite the unfortunate taste, she did not pull away. If anything, she kissed back with a fevered eagerness, delighting in the grunts he pressed into her lips. A lesser man in such a state would have been repugnant. A weaker man would have gotten a knee to the groin and a punch to the face. Mac exerted no such failings. The most primal part of her mind ignited under the call of the strength of his body and will. It answered, knowing instinctively to submit.
"Kari?"
Mac pulled away from her bruised lips, his hand still locked in her hair. Ava stood staring at them, her armament wrapped around her middle.
"We're going now," she said uncomfortably as she shuffled her feet. Locking eyes with the petite woman, Kari for once felt concern from her. She moved to pull her wrist out of his grip, only to have him squeeze tighter.
"I didn't say you could go," he said sharply, pulling her hair further back, baring her neck. Her hand throbbed as the blood tried to push its way beyond the foreign barrier. The strain in her neck sent aching shivers through her chest into and down her torso. A shift of his hips pushed a large bulge into her thigh, sending Kari's eyes rolling into the back of her head.
"Please," she whispered, the rocking of his erection against her thigh dragging unbidden whimpers from her throat. Mac pulled her head forward, watching her brow tightening. His hand released her wrist and slid it around to her front.
Without warning, he let go of her hair and pulled away. Kari did not realize she'd been holding her breath until a sudden rush filed her burning chest. She inched toward Ava, who in turn took her hand, quickly pulled her towards the car. A pair of shrieks pierced the night as two arms landed on their shoulders.
"Woa," Mark laughed. "Hey what's wrong?" Ava looked to Kari for some sign of what to say, but she didn't return the favor. Her eyes were glued to the intimidating figure removing a cigarette from a little metal case.
