Thirty

Half an hour later I was driving Lisa back to Mike's place. The sun was out, it was mild with the windows down and normally I'd be ignoring that sort of thing and grinning about my conquest. But things were bothering me - like I didn't see the sense in Lisa going anywhere near Mike again. 'Just pick up your stuff and come back to my place.'

Lisa rested her arm on the window sill. 'No.'

'How do you know Mike's not going to be there?'

Lisa shrugged. 'He might be.'

I drove at the speed limit; in no hurry to deliver Lisa into possible danger, or, if I was prepared to delve deeper into my sick psyche, in no hurry to be without her either. Her bruised cheek was hidden from me and she was looking mighty fine in she reclined the seat back, letting the wind tussle her hair.

A nasty thought entered my clouded mind. 'You can't intend to stay with him. Not after... we... not after that.' I pointed to her face.

'It's not as simple as that,' she said in a tired voice.

'Sure it is. You're either a punching bag or you're not.'

She cocked her head and gave me one of her sly, sexy half-grins. 'You're kind of sweet when you're not being a complete turd.'

I concentrated on the positives and grinned back.

'Of all the people to...' she shook her head, 'I never thought it'd be you.'

That big gap could have been filled with just about anything, but I guessed she was talking about my ability to satisfy her - you know - physically. 'Why don't you at least call him first? Make sure he's settled down?' It occured to me as we closed-in on Mike's house that I could also be in the firing line.

'He'll be fine.'

'I hope so.'

We pulled into Mike's steep driveway. If fine meant flying out the front door like a doberman had just bit his arse, then Lisa was right, Mike was dandy.

Thirty One