Read Online Blasted by Kate Story - Free Book Online Page A

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    â€œNo, no, it’s okay. I’ll get on home.” I wasn’t sure I wanted to be here alone.
    â€œOkay. I have to run now, though, I’m late. Let yourself out, the door locks automatically.”
    Of course it does.
    He kissed me again, and I tried not to cling to him. He pulled on his clothes. Another caress and he was gone. I heard him banging the bike out the door, down the stairs at a run – the door slamming shut behind him.
    I was scared I wouldn’t see him again; I’d been too hung-up to ask him. Come to think of it, I was a bit mad . He’d squeezed me into his busy schedule. Jesus! How humiliating. I started to work up a good rage, and then sleepiness swept over me again. What a day… maybe I would nap here, take him up on that offer. Just for a while, twenty minutes, tops.
    When I opened my eyes again it was dark, I was hot and sweaty, and I didn’t know where the hell I was. A little window showed a dirty post-sunset sky, the summer-city garbage-smell wafted in. Some noise had awoken me. The room tilted and swam as I sat up too fast, clutching the sticky sheet – oh. Clyde’s apartment. Voices. Voices had awoken me.
    His, and a woman’s. Oh, shit.
    I wormed my way across the floor and stuck my head through the bedroom doorway into the darkened kitchen. Just then the fridge switched on by my head, a sudden whir and whine. I almost bit my tongue off before I realized what it was. It was harder to hear the voices now: Clyde, murmuring… a feminine giggle, then her reply, giggling again. I heard Clyde’s voice approaching the kitchen.
    â€œDo you want to drink tea, and talk? Or beer, and flirt?”
    I grabbed my helmet and jacket where they lay by the fridge and rolled back into the bedroom, crouching naked in the dark. He opened the fridge – light sliced across the bedroom doorway. I heard the clink of bottles as he moved back into the living room; I guess they were flirting. Or, rather, he was talking, and she was making appropriately fascinated noises. Just like I did. What a fool!
    But what to do? Another garbage-laden breeze washed over me from the window. I crawled over to it. Small, but it had no screen, no bars, and it opened onto a back alley. A little to the left, about ten feet down from Clyde’s window, a flat garage roof spread invitingly. And there was absolutely no one in sight. I scrabbled around, feeling for my jeans and Tshirt, underwear, socks, boots. The voices in the front room murmured on, Clyde’s rising and falling, rising and falling.
    I really had to take a piss. I started pulling on my clothes, hoping Clyde wouldn’t suddenly grab this woman and sweep her into the bedroom like he had me. When I got to my bra, I paused. It was a hideous bra. I was fleeing like a coward, but at least I could leave Clyde a little memento. I got the rest of my clothes on, then draped the bra artistically over a lamp.
    I turned back to the window. I’d have to work it open further so I could fit through. Stealthily I set upon it; it was stuck. Man , did I have to piss; I squeezed my legs together until the urge passed. Then I heaved at the window again; it gave way with an awful shriek. I froze. Clyde’s voice continued on in the love den unabated, thank you God. I leaned as far out as I could and scanned that garage roof again. Yes, I could reach it. I mean, it was probably physically possible , if I happened to be a six-foottall Olympic rock climber with suction pads for hands and feet. I’d have to hang full-length from the window ledge, and swing my legs over. No, there was no way – I was too scared – I pulled my head back in, almost wanting to cry. Suddenly the fridge cut out, and I could hear Clyde, although he spoke softly.
    â€œYour lips are telling me to kiss you,” he said.
    Bastard! That’s the same line he’d used with me! I jammed my helmet over my head – thankfully,