In the Belly of Jonah (41 page)

Just then, she felt long arms sliding around her waist from behind, a chin resting on the top of her head—the familiar hug of her boyfriend. She closed her eyes, turned around so she could return the cuddle, and said, “Hi, hon.”

Michelle sensed Jens’s tension then connected it to Mully and his minions nearby. “Jens, I was just helping some tourists find their way around the store.”

When she turned back toward them to introduce Jens, Michelle saw Mully walking away with the bikers without even acknowledging Jens’s arrival and without saying another word to her. She suspected Jens was reading the Lucifer’s Lot rocker above the familiar gang emblem on all three jackets as they ambled toward the checkout registers, Roy scrambling down the stairs from the manager’s loft to stand guard by the checkers.

“He asked you to go to the rally with him?”

Michelle nodded.

“You have to be more careful,” Jens said.

“I know,” she replied. “Thanks for the tip. By the way, what are you doing here?”

“Just wanted to see if you have time for a late dinner.”

“Char’s waiting, and I need to talk with her about something. Later?”

“Sure. Come by my house?” he asked, giving her a wave as he headed for the front of the store.

Before she could answer, Roy stormed toward Michelle and jabbed a finger at her nose. “What in the hell are you thinking?”

She saw Jens pull up short, noting Roy’s tone.

“I was helping some customers,”Michelle answered, glad that Jens had noticed and had stopped in the aisle.

“Why didn’t you let me handle it?” Spittle flew from Roy’s lips. “Why did you deliberately disobey me?”

“Hey, calm down, Roy,” Jens warned, approaching from behind and laying his large hand on Roy’s shoulder.

Roy glared at Jens. “Stay out of this, pretty boy. This is an employment issue. Subordination.” He turned back on Michelle.

“Roy, come on. My last day is in two weeks. I’ve worked here for eleven years without a single reprimand,” Michelle said, calmly.

“Lucifer’s Lot, Michelle? Really? You won’t help me, but you’ll help them? Mean sons of bitches?”

Unfazed by Roy’s temper, Michelle shook her head and said, “Good night, Roy. See you tomorrow.”

When she turned away, Roy snatched her by the arm again.

Jens intervened, “Hey, hey Roy. I said calm down.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Michelle wrestled quickly from Roy’s grip and checked her watch. “I have to go. Charlene’s waiting for me.”

Roy followed behind as she headed toward the back of the store. “Lucifer’s Lot is a dangerous motorcycle gang, Michelle. Not nice. Killing machines.”

“I know, Roy. All they wanted was a little help with their grocery shopping.”

“You let him touch you.”

Michelle ignored him and pushed open the swinging door that led to the cool storage and the employee break room. Roy turned and held out his hand like a traffic cop to stop Jens just outside the door marked “Employees Only.” Jens shook his head and waited for Michelle as Roy followed her to the punch clock.

Michelle noticed Roy checking behind him, either making sure Jens hadn’t followed or making sure the door had swung shut, leaving Roy and Michelle alone. His anger quickly dissipated and he almost pleaded, “Michelle, how could you?”

“How could I what, Roy?” Her anger mounting, she spun on her heels to find him directly behind her, too close. She felt trapped between the wall and Roy. His breath smelt like a sterile mouthwash.

“Touch you like that,” he said, dragging his fingers across her cheek as Mully had.

With a shudder, she shoved at his chest, making him step back from her, and slammed her fists on her hips, hoping to snap him out of the hypnosis he seemed to have fallen under.

“What’s it to you, Roy?”

Roy blinked. “He . . . he’s nothing more than a filthy criminal.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of not judging a book by its cover?” Michelle argued. She grabbed her time card, keeping a watchful eye out in case Roy grew angry again as his creepy catatonia ebbed. “You don’t know he’s a criminal. And I didn’t let him touch me.”

He didn’t seem to hear her. He watched as she slid the time card into the punch clock, still careful not to turn her back on him.

He cleared his throat and pointed to the small pile of belongings she was gathering. “Speaking of judging books, you’re reading the newest John

B. McDonald. It came in last week, right?”Michelle looked down at her pile, scooped it into her arms, and said, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

Foolishly ignoring her indignation and warning, Roy continued, “At precisely three o’clock, and not a second earlier, you took a ten-minute lunch break and read a book in the employee lunchroom. Then you came back to work and relieved Sarah so she could eat lunch.”

Michelle spun around and held up her hand. “Stop, Roy. Just knock it off, will you? You really are scaring me.”

Michelle stared at the man she had once considered a friend, studying his glassy green eyes. She instantly recognized the embarrassment in them and felt sorry for him. In an attempt to push him back over that fine line between friendship, which would never be the same again, and obsession, Michelle cautiously inquired, “Why do you know so much about me?”

He lowered his eyes, pushing the designer frames up his nose, although they hadn’t slipped since the last time he had done so. A nervous habit. She studied him as he contemplated his answer. His large hands hung limply by his hips, his long, lean body straight and strong, bent only at the neck. Roy’s grocery store uniform was rolled up at the sleeves, the folded cotton barely fitting over his toned biceps. His arms and hands were bronze, as were his face and neck. He looked very humble in his pose and she wondered if she had gone too far by asking her question.

Roy looked up from the floor and smiled sadly.

“Because you’re my friend,” was the answer he settled on.

It was a blow. Maybe she had been too harsh, too judgmental; maybe it was a matter of his simply being socially awkward. Maybe she’d been the one to cross the line and was bullying him. Remorse swelled in her belly. She opted for being compassionate, yet truthful, by saying, “You’re my friend too, Roy, but I don’t make it my business to know every move you make every minute of your day. It’s kind of freaky, like I’m being watched or something. Do you understand?”

She had avoided the word “stalker” so as not to further anger him, but it was definitely the word she would use to describe him.

He added, “I admire you, Michelle. You could have been anything, gone anywhere, but you stayed here after high school to watch after your little sister. That’s admirable.”

“Anyone would do that in my situation. Good night, Roy.” She walked toward the hall and paused just before the swinging door. As an afterthought she said, “
Nightmare in Pink
.”

“What?”

“
Nightmare in Pink
,”she repeated, holding up the paperback and offering him a conciliatory smile. “That’s the book I’m reading.”

He stared up at her and she recognized the gratitude in his expression.

Casually, she added, “And yes, it’s a John D. McDonald. D as in dog;not B as in boy. And it’s not a new one. It first came out in the sixties, I think, but it’s a new reprint. A very good one, I might add.”

She moved toward the door, to Jens who awaited her on the other side. She could just make out his silhouette and was relieved to know he was nearby.

“I love you,” Roy said quietly.

“What?” Michelle asked, turning on her heels, aghast by what she thought she heard him say.

“I . . . I love you,” he repeated with less confidence. “I thought you should know.”

“What are you saying?”Michelle gasped. She wondered what had possessed her to take pity on him just now. Her decision to show him a little kindness seemed only to have inspired him to go deeper into his fantasy about her. She had made a terrible mistake.

“I have never given you
any
reason to believe we were anything more than friends, Roy. At least we
used
to be friends until you started obsessing over every little thing I do, stalking me wherever I went this summer. Don’t you understand? I’m in love with Jens. Not you. You know that. You’ve always known that. So why are you casting aside our friendship after all these years? Why, Roy?”

Roy stared blankly at Michelle, speechless.

She shook her head and added, “Our friendship must have been more important to me than it was to you. You must be crazy.”

The anger rose to Roy’s cheeks, an anger that touched his eyes in a way she had never seen before. She was used to his childish tantrums, such as the fit he threw a few minutes ago over her willingness to help Mully and his buddies. But she’d never seen Roy like this.

His voice was nearly unrecognizable when he demanded, “Do not call me that.”

“Roy, this isn’t—”

“You listen to me,” he interrupted, closing the distance between them instantly, and gripping her arms in his hands, shaking her. “Never say that word again. Ever. Or you will pay for it. Do you hear me Michelle Free-burg? You will regret this for the rest of your life.”

A shiver ran down Michelle’s spine and she forced a smile to her face.

“Roy, calm down. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

The door swung open and Jens was filling the space with his six-footfour-inch, two-hundred-twenty-pound frame. He had overheard Roy and she was glad of it.

“You want to step outside and pick on someone your own size?” he said, nostrils flaring.

Roy froze.

Michelle shook free from Roy’s grip and clung to Jens’s arm. “Jens, listen to me. This isn’t worth it.”

Roy and Jens squared off in the tiny little space between the swinging door and the employee lunchroom, and Michelle was finding it harder and harder to breathe with every passing second of mounting tension. She had never seen Roy so angry before and she had never seen Jens angry at all. And she knew she’d find Charlene waiting for her outside, angry as hell at her for making her wait. This was turning into a disastrous night.

“Jens, please,”she pleaded, pulling on his muscular arm, trying to make him follow her out the door and away from this place.

Through clenched teeth, he warned, “Stay away from Michelle, Roy Barker, or
you
will be the one who regrets it for the rest of
your
life.”