Page 4 of Cuffed to my Roomies
I could tell it was killing Brett that I carried my own backpack, “I got it,” I said when he reached for it. He put his hands in his pockets, trailed after me to the squad car and opened the back door. Derek popped the hood on my car and peered in with his flashlight.
“Does he know anything about cars?” I asked Brett.
“He can drive one,” Brett said, “as far as I know, that’s about all.”
“Great,” I said, “Well, he looks pretty official with the Maglite and the look of concentration on his face.”
“Five bucks says he doesn’t know where the battery is,” Brett said, “I’ll go get him before he decides to try and repair something.”
I settled into the backseat of the police car, gave the cage separating me from the front seat an experimental rattle. I fastened my seat belt, reminding myself how lucky I was that the cops had stopped to help me and insisted on taking me somewhere safe. The officers returned, shut off the flashing lights, and we were on our way.
Derek drove, talking almost nonstop about can’t-miss things to do in the city. Brett was mostly quiet, attentive. He asked if I was warm enough, if I needed to stop anywhere to pick something up. He was considerate, while Derek was more outgoing. They joked around with each other like brothers or best friends, and the atmosphere inside the car was relaxed. I was comfortable with them after a few minutes, the way Derek tried to include me in the conversation and the way that Brett was concerned that I was hungry.
They drove through for burgers, insisted on getting me something. I dug some ones out of my purse and paid my own way despite their protests. Soon I was chowing down on a bacon cheeseburger and sipping a Diet Coke in the back of a squad car.
“Do you always take the perps for a burger before they go to a holding cell?” I said.
“No,” Brett said, while Derek replied, “Only the misdemeanors. Felonies get tacos.”
I laughed, stuffed some fries in my mouth. I felt better, warm and fed, and knew that these were the good guys. When Derek parked the squad car by an old brick fire station, I shouldered my backpack and got out.
“We’re on the third floor,” Brett said, “It’s a walk up.”
I followed them up the stairs and into a huge loft. The floors were painted concrete, the walls exposed brick. The kitchen was open to the living and dining area—stainless steel countertops and appliances, a huge TV with leather recliners facing it. A large canvas smeared with green and blue paint covered most of one wall, reminding me of the ocean. Derek dropped his bag and led me to a door.
“We keep our workout stuff in here. Try not to trip over the weights. Brett’s a slob with the kettlebells. Here’s the key.”
He slid a brass key off his key ring and handed it to me. I flipped on the light and dumped my backpack on the single bed. A resistance machine, a treadmill, and an assortment of kettlebells were strewn across the floor. Derek picked up several and put them in the corner, effortlessly carrying them. Although he was lean and wiry, he was evidently strong as well. His easy smile and his friendliness had put me at ease.
“Hey, I just wanted to say thank you. This was above and beyond the call of duty.”
“Not a problem. Towels are in the cabinet by the shower. You can have first go at the bathroom,” he said.
I plugged in my phone, dug the sweats out of my backpack and took a shower. I toweled my hair off as I went into the kitchen.
“Next,” I said, “and if I start picking up women with stories about my marathon times and my sexual conquests, blame the Axe body wash I used.” Brett smiled at me.
“I told Derek, but I wanted to tell you, too. Thanks. You’ve been very kind.”
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Good night,” I said.
I texted Ainsley, Phone plugged in now. I’m ok, they r not shady.
She replied immediately with, I want proof of life. Selfie or call now.
Laughing, I took three pictures of the room—the pile of workout junk, my backpack spilling out makeup and socks, and a picture of me with wet hair sticking my tongue out.
Now she could stop worrying, and I could go to sleep.
3
I got up early to make breakfast for the guys. I wanted to cook for them as a thank you for coming to my aid and giving me a place to stay. Their refrigerator was stocked, so I figured they liked to cook at home. I chopped spinach and sliced mushrooms and tomatoes, cracked eggs and ground fresh pepper. I made a hearty frittata that smelled amazing, with some herbs and a sprinkling of cheese. I was cutting up melon and tossing it with berries when Derek wandered in.
