Tongue Tied - Episode 4

Tongue Tied - Episode 4

J.E. Thompson

Grant

I saw Aria standing at the bar. She’d done some growing up since I dumped her here five years ago.

When I was close enough for her to hear me over the tinny tune being tortured from an ancient piano, I said, “How you been, Ree?”

“Only a few men allowed to call me that,” she said. Her dress kicked up dust as she whipped around, and aimed the short-barreled shotgun in her hands square at my chest.

“Good thing you’re one of them what’s allowed,” Aria said. She dropped the gun on the bar, and rushed to me. She wrapped her arms around my neck, and planted a big wet kiss on my lips.

The bartender stowed the shotgun behind the bar.

“How long you been in town?” Aria asked.

“Ten minutes.”

She drew her finger along the edge of my jaw, and laid it across my lips. With a demure pout that could probably melt the hearts of three men, she said, “And you waited until now to come see me?”

“You were my first stop.”

The room seemed to brighten eight-hundred lumens from her smile. “Come on.” She led me away from the bar, through a rough-hewn door, and stopped in front of a heavy door in the backroom, out of sight from anyone in the saloon.

The door looked as if nobody had opened it in years, but once she unlocked it, it swung noiselessly on its hinges to reveal a closet. Aria put her finger to her lips, and peeked around the door. “Gotta make sure nobody followed us.”

She pulled up on the third coat hook, and the back of the closet slid open revealing a small elevator.

“Get in,” she said. She pressed the button marked, “H,” the door closed with a hiss, and the elevator started down.

“Where we headed?” I asked.

She pointed to the “H” and said, “Home.”

“I never meant to leave you here this long.”

“Did you expect I wouldn’t wait here for you?” she asked.

“Honest to Pete, Ree, I never expected I’d be gone five years.”

The elevator came to a stop after we’d gone down what felt like fifty feet, and the door slid open. “Home” gleamed with stainless steel, velvet, satin and glass.

“I thought this would be more comfortable than that dirty sweat-stinking saloon,” she said. “Besides…” She wrapped her arms around my neck, and molded her body so tight against mine the bone stays in her corset poked into my ribs like nails. Her intimacy confused me greatly, and warmed me greatly as well.

Her hands fluttered down my sides and shot shivers through me. They paused at my belt buckle, and then drifted around my waist. “I wanted some privacy…”

I hadn’t anticipated a reception like this. In my mind, I still saw a scrawny fifteen-year-old.

“…For this…” She shoved me away, and I found myself looking into the barrel of my own blaster. “…Where’s my money?”

(Did you miss Episode 3? Can't have that. Click here.) 
(I'm worried about Grant, how about you? Click here to go to Episode 5)