June gave me a small, sad smile. “Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
I tucked June in with an old afghan and left her on the couch as I ran down the stairs. When I got out to the street, I groaned. My Porsche was barely recognizable. The windshield was shattered and the tires had been slashed. The hood was covered in spray paint.
“Fuck!” I yelled, kicking at a trash can with my foot. A rat, larger than a small dog, skittered out and ran down the street. “And fuck you,” I
added, glaring down at the rodent.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. “I knew Crown Heights was bad, but fuck, I didn’t think it was this bad!”
The sidewalks were littered with people. In desperation, I grabbed a woman’s arm and pulled her close.
“Did you see who did this?” I gestured frantically towards my wrecked Porsche. “Did you see anything?” I pulled out my wallet, momentarily forgetting that I’d given all of my spare cash to June. “I can pay you,” I added quickly.
The woman glared at me and yanked her arm back. “Crazy man,” she muttered under her breath. “You stay the fuck away from me.”
I rolled my eyes. “Stupid bitch,” I said quietly. The other people on the street eyed me with disdain, taking care to step around the obviously-wealthy businessman who had no business in their ‘hood. I groaned, thinking of how much worse my car would be after I left it for a few hours and waited for a tow. As much as I wanted to believe that Hannah had done this, I knew that she was only one of a list of suspects. The rest of the cars on the street were shitty Oldsmobiles and Saturns, all ten years out of date. Someone had probably just seen my Porsche and decided that because they couldn’t have nice things, neither could I.
Just as I was about to call for a car service, a long Lincoln Town Car slowed to a stop. I frowned as the tinted window in the rear rolled down.
“Hey, Thomas!”
I looked up and frowned. Marlene was in the backseat of the car, waving to me.
“What are you doing here?” I stepped closer to the car and crossed my arms over my chest. The early November night was a chill one, and I was only wearing a light jacket.
“I had a meeting in Brooklyn,” Marlene explained. “I was just driving by and I thought I saw your Porsche.” She wrinkled her nose. “God, what happened? It looks awful.”
I shrugged. “Vandalism,” I said. “I was just about to call for a car.”
Marlene jerked her head towards the interior of the back seat. “Get in,” she said. “We were supposed to talk anyway.”
I glanced back at my wrecked Porsche, feeling helpless and somehow tricked. Still, I knew that I didn’t have a better option. It would take forever for a good car to make it into this part of Brooklyn, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to hang out on these thug-filled streets.
“Fine,” I snapped. Marlene grinned.
I walked around to the other side of the car and slid in, relaxing against the plush leather. Marlene smiled at me.
“So, what did you want to talk about?”
Marlene tossed her red hair and the spicy scent of vanilla filled my nose. I shivered – when we’d been married, I’d like the smell of my wife’s perfume. But now I loved June’s all natural musk. I loved that she only wore deodorant, and not perfume. She always smelled so young and clean.
And the scent of her pussy was as juicy as a fresh peach.
“How have you been?” Marlene asked. She pulled out a compact and dabbed powder on her already-perfect makeup.
“Eh.” I shrugged. “Good and bad.” I narrowed my eyes. “Remember Keith Carner?”
Marlene narrowed her eyes. “Yeah. He was a dog,” she said. “He tried coming onto me once at a bar.”
I rolled my eyes and laughed dryly. “Well, maybe it’s good he’s blowing me off, then. Maybe he just learned about the divorce.”
Marlene looked wounded. “Why would you say that?” She scooted closer. “Thomas, just because we’re not together doesn’t mean that we aren’t in each other’s lives.”
“That’s right,” I countered. The car slipped through the dark Brooklyn streets and suddenly I regretted leaving my very expensive car behind. “Because we have Brett,” I said firmly. “And if you’re trying to win him over by sending that PlayStation Five, it didn’t work. The thing is boxed up in my office.”
Marlene narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
My heart sank. Even though I still wasn’t sure who had sent my son that expensive toy, it didn’t help to discover that it hadn’t been my ex-wife, after all.