"Um…” I mumbled.
“Um…” I mumbled, louder and more hysterical this time.
“Um…! ” It came out like a strangled cry.
“Um… if you’re asking ‘yeah?’ as in ‘Yeah, I get you,’ then no, I don’t get you,”
“Uh… okay,”
“Um…” I mumbled,
“Um…” I began

I didn’t even know his name. “God,” I whispered, “I am such a slut.”

I was already regularly sleeping with a man whose name I didn’t know. A man I met at a restaurant just under a year and a half ago, took him to my home, slept with him and had the best sex in the history of womanhood.

I didn’t even give him a key. How he got in was as much a mystery as his name. But he did. He didn’t come every night. Sometimes it was once a week. Sometimes twice. Sometimes he’d skip a week. Once he’d been gone for three, which freaked me out and then it freaked me out that it freaked me out. But he always came back. Always.

With Mystery Man in my life I didn’t need the trouble that Tack had written on him. Okay, so he thought I was cute and another bonus was that I knew his name and he knew mine (which, Mystery Man, by the way, did not know).

I’d had three dates and no lovers since I met the Great MM. None of them came close to what little I had with MM and therefore none of them got to the second date or second base. Yes, the Great MM was that good of a kisser.

Then something came to me. “You don’t use protection with me.” “I did the first few times.” This was true, he did. “But—” “Rifled through your shit, saw your birth control pills. Put you on radar, saw you shared that body with no one but me, decided it was unnecessary.”

”One thing that doesn’t have any mystery when it comes to Delgado is His Days.” “His Days?” Tracy repeated. Cam nodded at her. “Otherwise known as His Women.”

“You’re known as Filler.” Oh my God. “I’m known as Filler?” I whispered. She nodded. “He’s feeling like a switch-up, or one of his women is out of town or he’s got a slot open he hasn’t filled yet, he comes to you.” “I’m known as Filler,” I repeated. “Honey—” Tracy whispered. “Who knows me as Filler?” I asked Cam. “Um…” She hesitated then said, “Everyone now.”

”She knew,” I stated. “What, babe?” Cam asked. “Thursday, she knew. She knew what she was, who she was, her day. She knew his name. She knew his number.” “Well, um—” Cam started. I cut her off. “I guess, if you get a guaranteed slot, you get his contact details. But Filler, now Filler is just filler.”

"...Gayle calls herself Thursday because she’s got another man who doesn’t do it for her and he goes out and gets shitfaced on Thursdays and doesn’t come home until the bars close so I feel like her, I visit her. I don’t have a schedule… Gwen, forget about what you thought you read into what I said. I’m tellin’ you now, straight out, how it is. And I’m not gonna feed you shit about there not bein’ others. There are others. And I think you get that I’m not a man inclined to waste my time doin’ precisely what I’m doin’ right fuckin’ now, explaining myself.”

”Gayle’s never been here, she’s never gonna be here, and her place got shot up in a drive-by, she asked my advice, I’d tell her to talk to the police. Now, do you get where I’m comin’ from here?”

”You say I don’t listen to you but you haven’t been listenin’ to me. We’re gonna ride this wave, you and me, what we got, what we had the night before last, even, fuck me, what we have right now. Don’t think for a second you can give me the sweet taste you gave me yesterday morning and then freak out and think you can cut ties. And while we’re doin’ it you’re not getting filled with holes, kidnapped, tortured and mutilated for your fuckin’ sister. Not on my watch.”

Dear Gwen


No, I'm not a stalker. Why would you think that? I just wanted to talk to you about all that's happened in the last couple of weeks. Since you're not available (aka won't meet me), I'll just lay it all here.

First of all I'm really sorry about Ginger. She has always been trouble, but I never thought it would come to this. Gangs, cops, FBI. I'm also very sorry you got caught up in it. But, really you could always see there's something wrong with that one...

“Ginger. A pain in my ass. A pain in my ass since the day she cut off all the hair on my Barbies. She was three. I was too old for Barbies but they were mine. She couldn’t leave them alone? What’s with cutting their hair?” I looked up at Dog and said, “I think that’s what psychos do. We should have known then. She’s three, wielding scissors and causing mayhem and heartbreak.” I kept blabbing as I dug in my purse, found my checkbook and then kept scrounging for a pen declaring, “She was always, always a bad seed.”

Now, I know you girls have settled your problems, so I'll let off that one.

About your Mystery Man. Sweety, a year and a half? Even leaving with him at the bar, after four words spoken is too much. He could've been a serial killer, a psycho! And then, letting him come for so long, just for sex, not knowing his name or anything? That's not all right, girl. Especially since he knew, like, everything. Oh, and don't even get me started on the lack of protection. You don't even know his name...STD, anyone? I know you had Sex Ed, girl. You need to take care of yourself.

I didn’t even give him a key. How he got in was as much a mystery as his name. But he did. He didn’t come every night, sometimes it was once a week, sometimes twice, sometimes he’d skip a week, once he’d been gone for three which freaked me out and then it freaked me out that it freaked me out.

And, that wasn't a clue for you to do something?

Well, I guess the Ginger incident was good for something. It brought you Hawk. And it could've gotten you Mitch or Tack, too. They're all such hunks. What on Earth did you do to get them interested? I can't get one guy, and you got three (4 counting Troy), just by talking to them for a minute! And they're willing to start a war for you or something! I'm sorry, I just found that hard to believe. Just tell me, did you slip them something? 'Cause, if you did I want it. And I think you flitted to them, when you and Hawk had problems, too often. You like a guy and have momentary problems, you sit down and talk to him, you don't jump to another guy's bike and hide. Geez!

Still, I'm glad to see he conquered your defense system. You always ran from intimacy, even with him (hence the biker escapade), so I'm glad he saw that and dealt with it. I think you both made some mistakes (you ran when just a hint of a problem showed up, he was, well, Hawk), but I think your love is beautiful. And it was so fun going through all those things with you.

“Sweet Pea, what do you think I do for a living?”
“Well,” I started. “You fly on your supersonic jet to hot, humid, tropical, war torn nations, execute your duties as a soldier for hire which means doing things like blowing up bridges and beating infidels into submission.”
“Hard to do that and get home to take you to dinner,” he noted.
“Hawk, your jet is supersonic,” I reminded him.

All in all, I think you're a great gal, funny as hell, and damn lucky to have Cabe.

Now, because Hawk is a controlling SOB, and is probably afraid this letter is actually just a scam, and holds anthrax or something, he's going to read it. So, I just thought I'd talk to him, just a bit, ok?

Dear Hawk

You are one of the hottest guys I've ever met. You can be sweet, you buy your girl shoes and you're good in bed. However, there are moments when your bossiness and controlling tendencies win out, and you cross the line into being too controlling and bossy. She is her own person and this isn't the 12th century. You can't just make decisions for her, without talking to her.

“I have to do what I have to do to deal with my woman, not a man in your yard will lift a finger to help you.”

“Gwen, baby, clue in. I was makin’ you mine. When I make a woman mine, I do my homework.”

And that gig at the start, you put cameras on her and had daily reports? Why not just talk to her, for Chrissake? That was just weird. And you're right, that year and a half-totally missed out.

I'm very sorry about everything that happened to you and I'm glad you found Gwennie. Keep her happy, keep her safe, and try to control her cookie dough obsession...

Love, Mimi

P.S-you might ask yourself how I know all this. That's ok, keep asking.

I felt a hand light on the small of my back

I felt the intense warmth of Hawk's hand at the Small of my back

as his hand slid out of my dress and up to the small of my back

a warm hand hit the small of my back

“You’re livin’ in Badass World, baby,” he whispered in my ear. “Fair warning, until I fix what I cut in you, you’re there to stay.”

“I felt a warm hand on the skin of my lower back.”
I twisted my neck, looked up and there he was.
I held my breath and he asked, “You comin’ or what?”
That was it. That was his pickup line. “You comin’ or what?”
I went.”

“You're bossy, arrogant, intrusive, annoying... "
His minor grin amplified.
See! Totally unrepentant...
"Do I have anything going for me?"
"... you can be sweet, you're a cuddler, and you carried me out of a burning building..."
"I'm a cuddler?"
"You spoon."
His brows went up. "That's important enough to be on your list?"
"Uh... yeah."
[He's grinning] "Fuckin' ridiculous what women think is important.”

“Are you here to freak me out in any other way?"
"Nope."
"This would include asking me for a date," I warned.
"Babe, don't date," he replied.
"You don't?"
"Do tequila shots followed by 5 hours of sex count as a date? he asked.
"Um... no," I answered.
"Then I don't date."
I smiled at him.
Then, stupidly, I asked. "You can have sex for 5 hours?"
He smiled at me.
Yikes.
Moving on.”

“Mitch,” I whispered. “Strong, the last three consonants, that is, but not in a harsh way, in a soft way. And when you’re with someone you care about and you’re close and they say something you can’t hear, you don’t say, ‘What?’ you say, ‘Mm?’ real soft. Put that and the last together, soft and strong, things a cop needs to be… Mitch.”
He stared at me.
I kept babbling. “And Lawson, goes without saying, Law… son. Son of the law.” I pulled in a breath through my nose and then whispered, “Perfect.”

“I want him,” I whispered my secret.
“Then talk to him,” Cam whispered back.
“I wanted him to be special,” I kept whispering. “
Girl,” she kept whispering too and got closer, wrapping her fingers around my arm, “talk to him…..
“I’ll always be filler,”

“Who’re you?” Elvira demanded to know, eyeing up Cam and Cam looked at her.
“Gwen’s best friend,” Cam answered.
Tracy had made it to the bar and she leaned both forearms into it, saying to Elvira, “We share that title.”
Elvira looked over her shoulder at me where I was positioning myself at the back counter. “If that’s true, girl, you better make up your mind ’cause you can’t have two maids of honor.