Kisses Are Like Bullets

Chapter 4

The only logical reason I could think of for waking up early was the fact I wasn't used to sleeping with another person. I didn't want to wake Heather, so I snuck into the shower and turn the water on as fast as I could with the hope that the sound of flowing H2O wouldn't disturb her.

I wasn't ready for what hit me. The valve had been turned all the way to scolding hot. The hard water felt like embers from a campfire and made a few red marks on my wrinkled skin. I flipped the switch to cold as fast as I could. A cold shower was appropriate, not just because it was going to wake me up, but also because I felt it was going to bring me back into focus.

As I stood there waiting for the ice to come out of the showerhead, I thought about how far this whole thing between Heather and me was going to go. She knew the names and the reputations of the people I was dealing with. She also knew the bouncers back at Lion's Lounge would be coming after her. If The Feds were looking at me just for talking to Sydney, I figured they would look at her too not just because she was with me but also because she was a now-former stripper at Frank Lang's club. The more I thought about it during my personal icy rainstorm, the more I came to the conclusion I needed to get her someplace safe and I had to do it quick.

After drying myself off, I opened the bathroom door to find a beautiful, thin, red-headed woman standing in front of me asking, "Did you leave enough hot water for me?"

"Too much," I said before I started the search to find my clothes.

She let out a laugh. "Are you going to have breakfast without me?" She sarcastically huffed.

Call it Catholic Guilt, but I just couldn't be in the room with her at the moment. One time, when I was in Confession, a priest told me, "If sin distracts you, find a better distraction." So, I did. I told her I was going out to get her some clothes.

She backed away from the door and asked me why.

I knew she wasn't the brightest Easter Egg in the basket, so I kindly reminded her it was December and we are in Wisconsin. Plus, if we are going to be seen in public together, I didn't want anyone judging her the way the concierge did last night.

"Aww, you are so sweet," she said continuing to use her sarcastic tone with me.

I stuttered for a second but I eventually got the words out of my system. "I am going to need to know your sizes. Text them to me."

She did as I asked, but she held her phone just below her chest and spread her legs a little further than shoulder-width apart, so I could see all of the glorious things I was leaving behind.

I stood there staring at her until my cell phone vibrated in my hand. After looking at the message, I asked her, "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Yes." She paused for a second before telling me, "My favorite color is red, and I hate purple."

"Any reason?"

"My ex always wore purple."

I let out a chuckle but it sounded more like a cough. "Anything else?"

"Yes." She pointed her finger at me before squinting her face. "No ugly Christmas sweaters or anything with anything Christmas on it. I know those outfits are cheap and tempting, but I want to look like a cute, little tourist. Not a walking, festive holiday advertisement."

"I got it. Anything else?"

She shook her head.

I put on the rest of my clothes as well as my trenchcoat and hat before grabbing Sabastian's cell phone.