Page 13 of Demo
Annoyed, and bored, I leaned over and turned the radio up, then started flipping through the stations.
Knox swatted my hand away. “You know, it’s rude to play DJ in someone else’s vehicle.”
“He speaks!” I said, pressing a hand to my chest, feigning shock.
He grinned, and after a classic rock song started pouring through the speakers, Knox returned both hands to the wheel.
“Is this even your truck?” I asked. “Looks like a company vehicle. Who are ‘Mitchell & Sons?’” I was referring to the advertising I saw wrapped around the body of the pickup.
“Mitchell is my last name. It’s my dad’s construction company. I work for him.”
“You have brothers?” I asked. “What fraction of the ‘and sons’ are you?”
“I have one brother, Bram,” he replied, looking over his shoulder as he turned down a narrow side street. “He’s older, but I’m better looking.” He turned his head to give me a full-on megawatt smile.
I rolled my eyes as the truck slowed, and Knox parallel parked like a boss. “Now you’re just being a showoff,” I said as he turned off the truck.
He chuckled. “Nah, I’ve just been driving work trucks since I was fifteen. I’m used to it. Hop out,” he added with a nod of his chin at me.
Doing as I was told, I opened the door and jumped—not hopped—out of the vehicle. I rounded the back and watched as Knox pulled a bottle from the back of the vehicle, along with two plastic cups. “This way,” he said.
We passed a small eatery with people hanging around outside smoking and drinking. Similar places were across the street. When we came to a darkened building that looked like an abandoned apartment complex, Knox turned and walked the few steps up the stoop before fishing keys out of his pocket and going to unlock the door.
He noticed me lingering on the sidewalk. “What’s wrong?”
“This is a rape house,” I blurted out, pointing toward the door he just opened.
Knox looked at me, stunned.
“It’s dark. It’s clearly unoccupied. It’s a bit rundown and it’s downright creepy. I’m not going in there.”
He put a finger in the air, indicating for me to sit tight, while he ducked inside. A few lights inside began to appear, then the front flood light lit up. He stepped back out and stared at me, expectantly.
“Congratulations. Now it’s a well-lit rape house. I’m still not going in there.”
Knox sighed and rolled his eyes. “We’re working on this house. The company bought it. We’re in the process of flipping it. That’s why it’s in disarray. But it’s got a cool upper porch,” he pointed above us, “where we can hang and hear the music from the pub.” He pointed down the street where I realized I could hear music emanating. “We can have a drink without people bumping into us.” He held up the bottle.
Conflicted, I looked up and down the street, which seemed to be lively enough that if he killed me, someone would hear me scream. In fact …
I took two steps to the side and cupped my hands over my mouth as I yelled, “Excuse me!” to the people gathered outside at the nearby bar. “Excuse me!”
They turned and looked at me like I was a lunatic. “If you see my face,” I circled my face with my pointer finger, “on the news because someone assaulted and murdered me and chopped me up into itty bitty pieces, can you tell the police it was this guy right here?” I pointed at Knox, who gave a wave to the onlookers.
One chick just stared with her cigarette frozen midway to her lips. Another guy shrugged. And one girl pulled out her phone and took a picture of us. “I got you, girl!” she said, giving me a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” I said, then turned back to Knox. “Lead the way.”
When I looked up, I saw him smiling at me. “What?”
“Nothing.” He stepped to the side, holding the door open for me to enter. As I brushed past him, he grabbed my elbow and stepped closer to me, so his lips practically danced across my ear as he spoke. “And for the record, I’ve never had to fuck an unwilling female.”
I tried not to show my shock at his brazen statement, although I had to admit, it intrigued me a bit. “How about males?” I asked as I slid past him.
He threw his head back and laughed. “Yep, walked right into that one.”
Knox followed me upstairs and motioned for me to head through the main bedroom, where there was a sliding glass door to a second-story porch. He was right, from here we could hear live music coming from a nearby venue and see passersby rushing around from one bar to the next, while enjoying a drink in peace.
“Shit,” Knox said, looking around the porch, which was a little damp. “I didn’t think about seats. I might have a tarp or something in the truck.” He looked a little apologetic, but before he could stew on it, I plopped right down on the old wooden porch floor, resting my back against the building, my knees bent and my feet flat on the floor.
