Catharsis [Novel]

CHAPTER FIFTY

CHAPTER FIFTY

            Knocking on the door of the house, I say as loudly as I can in my most feminine voice, "Hey, can you all open up for me in there?"

            Waiting for the response from within, I look down at myself for a quick check of my hurried makeover.   I had pulled off my hooded sweatshirt and dropped it on the corner of the porch out of view of the door so that I was just wearing a white tank top.  Unfortunately, over the last two weeks most of the baby fat I'd been carrying since puberty had melted off, so my top was far from skin tight and slinky (This was the opposite of what I had hoped when I first thought up the plan.).  I had to do some quick knotting of the fabric in back in order to pull it tighter and accentuate what few curves I have.  My thick hair has been mostly ratty and tangled since I've been living in the warehouse, but pulling my fingers through it I tried to make it as close to "tousled" as possible (I figure ‘tousled’ is attractive, but ‘unkempt’ is far from it.  Luckily, I fully believe it's a fine line between the two.). 

            I don't really think it's possible for me to pull off sexy right now (Or ever really, but I had to go with whatever plan had the best chance.), but I'll settle for intriguing.  Intriguing might at least get them to open the door.  And an open door is all my plan needs.

            Puckering my lips into the sweetest smile I can muster (I’ve never been one to adopt the shy ingénue route at school.  In the past I've mocked girls who acted like this, but I have watched them in classes enough to feel like I can pull off a passable resemblance.  At least for a few moments.), I blink my eyes slowly while trying to make them look as big and doe-like as I can (I even, briefly, consider slowly twirling my back toe on the ground to reenact the pose I've seen in countless Japanese manga comics, but that seems like overkill...and awkward.  Well, at least more awkward than what I'm already doing.).

            Boredom begins to mix with my anxiety as the wait stretches out.   It shouldn't take them this long to reach the front door from anywhere in this house.  It simply isn't that big of a place.

            Reaching out, I push the little illuminated doorbell button and listen to it echo throughout the house.  The sound is muffled by the heavy door, but my senses pick it up readily.  Just as the sound fades, I become aware of the presence of someone on the other side of the door.  I can't pick up much about them, aside from it being a guy.

            "Go away," he thunders from the far side of the door.  "We're closed for the night."

            His voice has a level of finality to it that I don't like at all.  He's dismissing me, and I can't have that happen.  I strain to find a way to keep his attention on me.

            "It's ok," I mewl at him softly (yet with as much volume as I can muster to make sure my words penetrate the door).  "I'm cool.  You can let me in.  I won't be long."

            With my abilities (Can I think of them as powers yet?) fritzing out on me, I'm not sure how to convince this guy to open the door for me.  If I could just push him into doing it, it would save some time and effort.  But I don't know if that will cause me to pass out or drop to the ground like last time, and I can't afford to have either happen right here.  So I'm stuck using old school methods.  Unfortunately, I'm not well versed in crack house etiquette or what arguments to ply them with.

            "You ain't cool, witch (OK, that's not the word he used, but you get the idea.)," his measured voice comes across evenly.  He's bored with me.  "So don't tell me ya are.  Go 'way."

            I have to find another way to appeal to him (And I need to do it quickly), and only one idea comes to mind.

            "Please forgive me, mother," I whisper quietly to myself before plunging ahead.

            Placing one hand on my hip, I try to subtly jut it out in what I can only hope is an alluring stance.  I doubt I'm pulling it off as effectively as a more experienced girl would (Not something I feel the slightest lick of shame about.), but all I need is for the intention to be there.

            "Come on, man," I continue to purr at him in my huskiest voice.  "I will totally make it worth your while."  Pausing, I try to let that sink in before I say, "I'll make it something you'll never forget."

            So dirty.  I feel so dirty.  After tonight I’ll need every female ancestor I've ever had to forgive me. 

            I can feel him waiting on the other side of the door, and I know he is weighing my offer.  Slowly licking my lips and looking up at the tiny peephole through my lashes, I do my best to seal the deal and bring him to my side.

            "Not tonight, honey," he finally says with an obvious tinge of reluctance in his voice.  "Any other night, I'd say yes, but not tonight."

            A small part of me wants to analyze his answer as I believe there was a hidden compliment in there for me (A lewd one aimed at my sexuality, but it's still the kind of compliment I've never really received before.), but the bigger part of me realizes I've just failed and he's getting ready to walk away.  I'm out of options.  Searching my brain, I grasp on to the only thing I think I have left...

            "Leroy sent me over," I say hurriedly to the door.  "The guys are hurt, and he thinks all the money might be gone.  He needs  help, and..." I pause for a moment as I consider how to end this.  "And I'm scared."

            Hoping that's enough to get them to come out to me, I do my best to imitate the sounds of someone sobbing as I slowly crumple to the ground on the front stoop.  At least I want it to look like exhausted crumpling from a distance, in reality I do my best to keep my toes underneath me and ready to spring.

            "It was so awful over there," I whimper softly between my "sobs".  "That big Chinese guy looked serious about killing them, too.  I can't believe it (I figure the more I throw at them to keep them off-balance the better off I'll be at getting them to believe me.)."

            As I listen to the muffled voices behind the door (Reluctant Guy apparently is discussing options with someone down the hall.), I decide to play one more card in my ploy to keep them focused on me.  It's a gamble to let them know I'm aware of its existence, but I think it'll be enough for them to want to get me inside.

            "And what is Cummerlin?  He kept talking about Cummerlin..." I make sure to say the name of the street of the other house that Leroy knew about more than once to get the point across.  If I know about it and I heard about it from the supposed "attackers", then these guys will want to know what else I heard.  And the only way to do that is to open the door, right?

            After another heated exchange behind the door (Mr. Reluctant is arguing that I should be brought in and questioned.  Down The Hall Guy thinks it could be a trick and they should wait.  My money is on Reluctant winning, especially since I'm guessing he might already have his hand on the doorknob.), I wait out a short silence as I continue with my theatrical sobbing.  Finally, the telltale clicks of locks being turned reach my ears, and my body tenses in anticipation (And a healthy dose of nervousness.  I'm pretty sure I can rely on my speed and strength without triggering a meltdown, but I'm far from positive.  This could get real scary, real quick.).

            As the light from inside the house spills out and the door cracks open, I cease my sobbing and smile up at the dark face silhouetted in the doorway.

            "Showtime," I hiss through my parted lips and then launch myself at him.