A Prison Break Ch. 02

Her brow pinched for a moment. "Um... three."

Without looking at the pile I reached for it. I picked a bar. "That means I get this one." I saw her ever so slightly smile. I looked at what I picked. "Ahh... shit. It's the Milky Way. I wanted the Snickers." I saw Barb smile for real, then she softly giggled for a moment. For the thousandth time, I wished to god that she had never hit that goddamn kid.

Barb was still smiling but her eyes had teared. "Give me that. Take the Snickers."

Lana finally spoke. "I want the Snickers." She grabbed it.

For some reason, maybe it was the tension of the situation, I burst out laughing. Barb started giggling, and Lana turned her face away but as she pulled the paper off the bar, I saw her mouth curve into a tiny smile. I suddenly wondered how everything had gotten so fucked up. Barb in prison, Lana accepted at two good universities but wasn't going, me screwing her a couple days ago. I knew it didn't have to be this fucked up, but I didn't have clue how to make it into what it should be, whatever that was. Or if it was even possible.

I grabbed the last candy bar. "Well... I really wanted the Payday all along."

Barb smiled again as she chewed her first bite.

Barb and I made small talk for a while. I spoke at length, more like babbled about how the house I was working on was coming along, making some valid and some idiotic comments about the design, just to fill in the dead air.

Barb mostly asked questions during the visits. I don't think she wanted to talk about prison life much. She looked at Lana. Her daughter was again staring at the high windows. "Honey? What have you been doing this past week?"

"Not much."

My gut knotted yet again.

"Are you still trying to find at least a part-time job?"

"I told you, no place is hiring, at least not hiring someone like me."

Barb glanced at me. I held her eyes. She raised her eyebrows slightly. Barb and I were married only for a year and a half before the accident, and we knew each other only four months prior to the wedding, plus she'd been in prison for the past eight, nine months, but I had been with her long enough to know that slight eyebrow rise was asking me to rethink giving Lana an allowance, and that Barb thought she should have an allowance, even if Lana was lying about applying for jobs and the job situation.

Since Saturday morning I had been wishing I had never made a big deal about the goddamn allowance because then Friday night never would have happened. A week ago I would have been pissed right now. Actually I had been. I think we talked about all this then too. Yeah, we did.

I looked at Lana. "Did you go to the places you've applied a second and third time yet?"

"No. Why would I do that? They said they didn't need anyone."

"Because it would show them you really are interested in a job and possibly someone quit between your application and your second or third visit." I knew she hadn't filled out any applications anywhere. It was all bullshit from her.

"They'd just call someone who had already applied to fill it."

I spoke calmly, "No, that's not how it works all the time. Showing your face and telling the manager your name two more times would help in either situation."

"That's your opinion."

I started to get pissed. Barb reached for my forearm on the table, gave it a squeeze, and then held it. I don't know why but as she started to speak, I almost started fucking crying. Her hand on my arm, the touch telling me not to get angry, was a little act a wife would do. She was my wife! I had fucking cheated on her with her teasing, goddamn daughter! What the fuck was wrong with me?!

"Lana, he's right. You should do that. Did you... did you use those tokens and take the bus to the mall?"

Oh dammit. I had forgotten to get the fucking tokens for her! I cleared my throat and tried to get my shit together.

The edge was in Lana's voice, "No. I didn't get any tokens."

I took a quick breath. "My fault. I forgot all about it. Sorry, Barb." I turned my face to her daughter, the girl I paid for sex. "Sorry, Lana. I'll give you money for the tokens when we get back to the house."

"It's not going to make any difference." She took a drink of diet soda.

Barb frowned slightly. "You still need to try, honey. Get the tokens and try the mall."

"I... I did, sort of. I went to three stores and filled out applications."

I stopped breathing for a few moments. For the first time, I actually believed she had applied for jobs. Something... something in the tone of her voice made me believe her. Had she really applied at all those other places like she had said?

Barb said, "Well, go again and... and try some other stores while you're there."

Lana didn't respond, just took another sip of soda. She set the can down, then announced, "I'm going to the bathroom." She rose and walked away.

I looked at Barb. She gave me the ten thousand word 'allowance' expression again. I sighed. I figured I had to stick to my guns, just to be normal if nothing else. "Look... I don't want to give her an allowance, especially since she never did anything for it, but..." I exhaled. "I know she needs pocket money. I'll... I'll maybe... make a list of chores that she can do every week and... and list the amount she'll make doing them. Something like that."

Barb frowned. "She's not a child anymore. That's like... like something you'd do with a little girl."

I knew damn well she wasn't a little girl anymore. "I'm not going to give her free money to just blow. She'll have to do something for the money she gets." I wished I had used a different word than 'blow' and for 'something' too. I saw Lana in my mind, in the tank shirt, telling me she gave 'good beejays.' I then hated myself even more when my dick twitched and grew a little.

Barb sighed. "All right."

The rest of the visitation was the usual boring and somewhat tension filled time. It had been exactly what I had hoped it would be -- normal. When it was time to leave, Lana at lease gave Barb a curt and limp hug. I kissed her and hugged her tightly, saying a version of what I usually did, "Don't worry about anything, Barb."

On the drive home, about a half hour from the prison, I twisted in my seat, then gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands. "I guess I should tell you that Barb is still pushing me to give you an allowance." I waited a minute for her to say something. "Did you hear me?" I glanced at her profile, then looked ahead again.

"Yeah. I heard you. So?"

I took a slow breath. "I'm... I'm considering it." She again said nothing. "I... I haven't... I don't have it all thought out, but... I'm thinking something like... getting paid for doing a chore, different pay for different chores over a week."

Her voice was dripping with anger and sarcasm, "Like what? One price for fucking you, and a different price for sucking you?"

Once again, she nearly made me lose it. I'm sure my hands almost broke the steering wheel. I told myself to cool down, but it was difficult. She was the one who had brought up fucking and sucking, not me! She propped me, not the other way round! I told myself she was just a fucked up, immature teenager. I told myself to be an adult. I finally spoke, "No, I thought the chores should be something you'd be g..." I stopped speaking. I almost said it should something she would be good at. Jeezuz. I was being as immature as she was!

"Something I'd be good at? That's what you were going to say, wasn't it?" Her arms folded over her chest. She looked to the side out her window.

I had screwed up once again. "No, I was going to say, something that you might actually not think was a big pain in the ass, like... well, I don't know what yet." I shouldn't have made the fuckin' slip. Shit. I took a quick breath. "Do you have thirty bucks?" I still hadn't cashed my paycheck.

"Why?"

"I need change for a fifty."

"What?"

"I think that ten pack of bus tokens is twenty bucks. I only have a fifty dollar bill and some singles. I give you the fifty, you give me thirty back."

She stayed silent for a minute or so. "I have it at home."

I really didn't give a shit if she bought the fuckin' tokens or not with the money.

* * *

CHAPTER 8

I didn't get around to cashing my paycheck until Wednesday after work. After that I headed to the grocery store, but a couple blocks from it, I made a U-ey, and drove to Sully's. I sat at the bar, had two drafts, then switched to bourbon rocks. It was the first booze I had since the previous Friday night.

I had been thinking about Lana nearly non-stop since Monday morning. I just couldn't get her out of my head. I had been remembering more and more from Friday night. I had really gotten off on everything we had done, everything I had done to her. And I was missing her nightly frustrating, hot, erotic tease shows on the living room floor. She had the most perfect little cunt I had ever stuck my tongue or prick into. She had given world class head too. I liked how petite and slender she was, maybe it made me feel bigger and taller and she was like a feather to lift and move around. Barb also fell under that category I guess, on the taller side of it, but she wasn't nearly as petite as Lana. I tried not to remember how she'd sometimes look younger than her age and how I found that hot too, although I seemed to recall I didn't like it near the end.

Yeah, that sweet pussy of hers had been a fuckin' little piece of heaven. I was sure she had gotten into it too. I had been able to recall her having at least two orgasms. I had only been able to accomplish that a few times, well, maybe more than a few times, let's say with a few chicks. I've done it at least twenty times with Barb, but a lot of that was just her too. I liked the way Barb orgazed too. My gut tensed. Shit. I had fucked Barb's daughter and I had loved every moment of it. Jeezuz. I really was scum, but I couldn't help it. Lana really was a fuckin' little piece of heaven that night.

And what was that shit she wouldn't tell me that she said we talked about at the end? Why was that upsetting her, hell, not upsetting, why was that really pissing her off? I tried and tried to remember what it was, and I could barely remember us in bed going to sleep. The only thing I could recall was that I think she asked if she could stay there, in bed with me, sleep with me. I didn't think I was asshole to her then. I remembered just saying yeah, sleep in the bed.

What the fuck was it we spoke about?! We hadn't talked about anything while we fucked. I was sure, well, mostly sure about that, and then I remember shooting my load and feeling lousy because I didn't do any of the post orgasm touchy-feely shit with her but I was fuckin' exhausted. I remember drinking water then just going to sleep. There wasn't any discussion that I could remember. Was she fuckin' making it up? If she was making it up, why would she make it up? What's the point in that? She could be pissed at me without it. Was she just trying to make me go fuckin' nuts trying to remember something that didn't happen?

I upended my glass to get the last drops then looked at the bartender and caught his eye. I wiggled the empty glass. "Greg, hi' me again."

Greg stepped closer. "Nah, man. You told me to cut you off after three. That was your third. Why don't ya just go home. It's a work night, dude."

"C'mon, I was kiddin' 'bout cuttin' me off. Jus' one more." I pushed the glass towards him on the bar.

"Nah. Come on, don't make me cut you off from my side. Cut yourself off. You got work tomorrow, don't ya?"

"C'mon. Jus' one more."

"Don't you have that kid at home? Barb's kid?"

"Yeah. So?"

"It's after 11:00. You wanna be hungover on the job tomorrow?"

I clenched my jaw. My gut tensed. "Don't fuckin' worry 'bout my fuckin' job, jus' get me another fuckin' bourbon rocks!"

Greg was bigger than me, but I knew I could beat the fuckin' shit out'a him. He moved closer to me and leaned his face towards mine.

He spoke softly, "Listen, I like you most times you stop in, but... I've told you about raising that voice of yours in here. I'm cutting you off since you don't know you should be cut off. You want me to call you a cab?"

I clenched my jaw and glared at the asshole. I had been banned from a couple nearby bars. I liked Sully's usually. Greg wasn't a bad guy except on the days he was a motherfucking prick, like tonight. I pulled out my wallet and left one single on the bar. "There's your fuckin' tip for all the hosh-pitality."

I shoved the stool back and headed for the door. I thought about turning around and smashing my fist into the fuckin' smug face of the motherfucker, flatten the prick's fuckin' nose. Instead, I pushed the door open and stepped outside. I needed Sully's.

Halfway back to the house, sitting at a red traffic light, I realized Greg was right, except he should have cut me off sooner. I figured I should apologize to him next time. I muttered, "Shit." I hated that apology crap, but I knew sober, I'd do it.

I accelerated when the light turned green, checking my speedometer about every five seconds so I wasn't speeding, and looking side to side at the road ahead watching for anything that could jump in front of me. Since Barb's accident, I had been doing that whenever I was driving after having a few.

A vision of Lana's little naked body popped into my mind again. Jeezuz... I had loved fucking that little chick. During the fifteen minute slow drive to the house, I kept replaying parts of last Friday night. I pulled into the driveway before 11:30PM. I went into the house and got a beer, had a few gulps, then headed to my bedroom, intending to brush my teeth and get into bed. I did brush my teeth, then decided to take a shower when I took my T off. My arms were still filthy from work. I jumped in the shower, visions of Lana's little naked body still dancing in my head. My cock was hard and throbbing.

I finished the shower, toweled off, then headed towards the bed. I stopped and muttered, "Fuckin' shit." I moved to the chest of drawers, opened the bottom one and searched around and got my gray jogging shorts out. I pulled them on and headed down the hallway until I was standing right in front of Lana's closed door. My hands held the side casings as I leaned my face towards the door.

I whispered, but I'm sure it was a lot louder than that, "Barb? I mean-I mean, Lana? You 'wake? Lana? Are ya sleepin'. Hey, La..."

Her voice came from the other side of the door. It sounded like she was on her bed, that far away. "Barb's not here. She's in prison."

"I know-I know... sorry... sorry. Listen... listen... I need ta talk t' ya. I know you're fuckin' pissed at me, 'bout... 'bout not rememberin' what the fuck we talked about before goin' to schleep last Friday. I've been... tryin' and tryin' and tryin' t' remember what the hell we talked about, but... I don't remember any talkin', we... we... we jus' went to sleep. I... I wanna know what we talked about... what we said. I-I wanna know why the hell you're so fuckin' pissed at me, an'... an' why the fuck you been pissed at me from the very start, you know, years ago. An'... but... las' Friday, I wanna know that first.

"Why the fuck can't you jus' fuckin' tell me what the fuck it was we talked... sorry... sorry, I di'n't mean to say 'fuck' there, but... Lana? Why can't you jus' fuckin' tell me what we fuckin' talked about? I mean... why not? An'... an'... tell me why you hate me... I... I wannid us to be friends at leas', at the beginning, but... but you act like I'm jus' some fuckin'... sorry-sorry... I di'n't mean to say fuckin' there."

I took deep breath. "Lana? Please... please jus' tell me what the fu... what we talked about tha'... that I can't remember. Please... please jus' do that. I jus'... I can't remember."

"Why... why should I? I told you it doesn't matter anymore."

My head flinched. Her voice was right on the other side of the door. "If it doesn't matter, why're you so fuckin' pissed that I can't remember? I... I wanna know what we talked about. I wanna know what we said." I waited. "C'mon... tell me." I waited a few moments for a response.

"I don't know if... if I should."

Her voice was lower on the door. I sat down then twisted around to lean my back against it. "Lana... please, jus' tell me. Did... did I say something to really make you angry? I'm sorry 'bout whatever I said. I... I was drunk. I-I'm sorry."

"You... you didn't say much of anything."

"Well... what did I say of not much tha'... that made you so angry."

"I'm... I... I thought you were listening."

"Lana... I am listenin'."

"I mean... I thought you were listening to me on Friday night."

"I... I prolly was. I... I jus' can't remember what you said." My brow pinched as I tried yet again to recall it. "Tell me... tell me why you're so angry."

"I'm... I'm... I'm angry because... because..." She stopped speaking.

My brow tensed more as I turned my profile to the closed door. "Lana, tell me... tell me why you're so angry."

"I'm angry because... because it... because I told you something really... really important and... and you weren't listening and... and if you were, you... you forgot."

"Tell me now, again, tell me again and I promise not... not t' tell anyone else, even Barb, an'... an' I promise not to forget what it is."

"I... I told you, it doesn't matter now."

"Goddammit, Lana! Stop fuckin' saying that! Tell me! I have to know!" I took a few breaths. I swore at myself silently. I told myself to get it together. My own shouting seemed to wake me up, maybe it sobered me up a little too. "Sorry... sorry... I din't mean to shout. Sorry. Please, Lana. I promise I'll remember. I promise you can trust me with it. I... I don't want you to be angry. I... I want us to be friends at least. I... I can't stop thinking about you since Friday, an'... an' I thought about you so much before too. I... I need to know what it was you said I forgot."

"You're saying all that because you're drunk again. And then... and then tomorrow you'll say you forgot because you were drunk."

"I'm not drunk."

"Yes, you are."

"Okay-okay, I'm li'l drunk, but not that drunk. I won't forget tomorrow."

"You said that other stuff... because you're just horny."

My gut clenched. I had no idea what the hell she was talking about. I had to know what the hell she was talking about or she'd nail me on this too. "What stuff?"

"That... that you thought of me a lot since Friday, and... and before that."

"That wasn't stuff... I mean, that wasn't bullsh... I mean... that was the truth. I have been thinking about you all the time, and did think a lot about you before Friday too."

"What stuff did you think?"

"I... I thought how beautiful an' hot you are, an' how... how I know you, but I don't know anything about who you are, an'... an' that has more to do with you, than it does with me. You... I know there's a lot more to you than... than you show me, than... than you show Barb. I... I tried to be your friend, but... you either hate me or... or think I'm jus' a fuckin' asshole. I... I've thought about you a lot before Friday. An' I have been thinkin' about you nonschtop since Friday. An'... an' thinking an' thinking about what the hell it was we said... that... that you said to me an'... an' I can't remember it at all. I'm sorry... I jus' can't remember. Tell me, Lana, please jus' tell me."