On Every Street by Karina Halle Page A

gypsy-like trailer park. The ocean on the coast was rough at times and I was attracted to the waves. They held danger and mystery, even death, and my parents were too occupied to tell me any better. I’d jump into the surf, far away from the lifeguard stations, and time and time again, when I was trying to leave the water, the waves would break over my head. I tumbled, feeling the sand scrape my body, not knowing which way was up. And by the time I reached the surface, another wave would crash and I would repeat the turmoil all over again. I was tumbling in my new life—my new lie. I tried to come up for air, to think straight, to remember my plan, my goal, my revenge. But the heat in my belly that used to drive me forward had been replaced by the heat between my legs. It disappeared with every thrust Javier took, it melted when we came together. My body was his and it was just a matter of time before he had my heart. When that happened, I knew I’d take in water. I knew I would drown. Any love that starts under a lie is bound to kill you.
    I didn’t really realize how deep I’d gone in, the power he had over me, until he picked me up after work one day. I was late doing the close down thanks to a last minute rush, so when he got tired of waiting he came inside and pulled up a barstool.
    “I won’t be much longer,” I told him.

“Can I help?” he asked sincerely. He looked especially dashing tonight: black suit, skinny tie, white shirt. Sometimes I wondered what he did during my shifts—where he went, who he talked to. But I didn’t dare ask. I was afraid to ask. To ask would be to pop the sex-filled bubble I’d been living, and I’d been a virgin for too long to give that up.
    “No, just sit there and look pretty.”
    As I worked, quickly wiping down the counters like I was on fast forward, I kept glancing at his beautiful eyes. They watched me as they always watched me —attentive and involved. And horny as hell.
    “Stop looking at me like that,” I admonished him, trying to de-smudge the eyeliner that had gathered under my eyes.
    “How am I looking at you?”
    “Like you want a good taste.”
    He grinned, satisfied and secure. He gave me a short nod. “You know me so well already.”
    That wasn’t quite true but I smiled back anyway.
    “Can you wipe down the counter?” he asked, getting out of his seat. “I think you missed a spot.”
    I gave him an odd look but did as I was told.
    “No, do it with your ass.”
    I snorted. “With my ass.”
    He patted the counter with a few smacks of his palm. “Up, up.”
    Curious, I threw the towel in the sink and hopped up on the counter. I wrapped my legs around him while my eyes darted over to the door.
    “I locked it as I came in,” he said, reaching up and pulling my shirt over my head. “You really should lock it as you work . I don’t want any criminals coming in and feeling you up.”
    My breath caught in my throat but he didn’t notice. His eyes blazed into mine as if he wasn’t a criminal himself. And as he took off my bra and pulled off my jeans and thong, I wondered just what kind of person I’ d become. I was ignoring what he was and focusing on what he was to me. I was drowning again. And I was naked, sitting on the bar where I served drinks to customers.
    I reached forward for his tie but he pulled back, wagging his finger back and forth.
    “Nuh uh. You have been serving all day. Now it’s time for me to serve you.”
    He made me lie down on my back, the counter still wet from the wipe down and sticking to my spine. He came behind the bar and I heard the rattle of ice cubes in a glass.
    I turned my head to look at him, feeling like I was in a fucked up version of a doctor’ s examination. “Feeling thirsty?”
    “Only for you, my sweet.” He put an ice cube in his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue. He came up to me, dipping his fingers into the ice and sliding them over my hipbones until I shivered. He gently spread my