Misery · Part 1

Misery · Part 1 (1/3)
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Chapter 1 – Joe's Truck "Axel's Auto," Joe Axel said into the shop phone.

"Hey Joe, it's Kristal."

"Hey Sis. Are you in town?"

"No. Which is why I'm calling."

"What's the problem?" Joe asked. When Kristal called, there was usually a problem. He frowned as Kristal launched into a complicated explanation of the events that had left her friend Amanda stranded in Nashville, her luggage destroyed, and unable to obtain a rental car.

"Kris," Joe interrupted. "What do you really want?" he asked, already suspecting her answer.

"Can you take her to Atlanta, by way of Huntsville? And maybe stop along the way so she can pick up a few things?" Kristal asked.

"Is this a joke? You do know I run a business here, right? Plus, it's already 3:00."

"I also know you go all over the state for parts, or wrecks, or tools, and that you go up to Louisville, or down to Birmingham all the time. Amanda needs help, Joe. She's had a rough time."

"In other words, you're setting us up," Joe said, irritation plain in his voice.

"Of course I am. And if you don't like it, hand the job off to one of your minions…"

"They're my employees, not my lackeys, damn it!"

"Hey, that's a record. We've been talking for almost five minutes, and that was your first swear word," Kristal said.

"Ha ha. Very funny. I'm at work, trying to present a professional appearance, which you are straining with this bullshit."

"Do you have a ride you can lend her?"

Joe heard something in his sister's voice, a hint of desperate concern not usually present in one of her schemes.

"I've been meaning to go to Atlanta and look at some tow trucks, might as well do it tomorrow."

He heard a click. The pause lasted so long he thought Kristal had hung up. Finally, she spoke. "Really? Thank you, awesome kid brother."

"Yeah, well don't get used to it. I'm not a fu- effing taxi. Speaking of which, does your pal…"

"Amanda," Kristal said.

"…yeah, Amanda, need me to fetch her, or can she get here all by herself?"

"She's taking a cab."

"Great," Joe said. "And Kris? No more set ups. I'm not interested." He hung up, missing the passionate argument Kristal made in her defense.

After hanging up, and thinking over his schedule, Joe told his crew what was going on, and who was in charge for the rest of the day and the next day too.

Through the large window in the shop's waiting room, Joe watched a taxi pull up. A woman exited with only a purse. Joe thought she looked a little worried, and maybe vulnerable. She was also attractive in the girl next door way. Blue jeans and a red blouse did not hide her athletic build. Her streaked blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail. As she got closer, Joe saw she wore running shoes, which made her about average height for her age, which he guessed was around thirty.

On the other hand, Joe thought, this woman could be a prospective customer and not Amanda.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Joe said.

"Joe?" she said, looking at the name tag on his shirt. "I'm Amanda." She extended her hand, and Joe shook it. Her grip was warm and strong.

"Kristal said to expect you. I'll pull the truck around." Joe left her standing at the front counter, attracting furtive glances from the mechanics in the repair bays.

The late model dark blue Ford F250 pulled right up to the door. Amanda hesitated, and Joe lowered the passenger side window and leaned over.

"You still need a ride? If you'd rather drive yourself to Atlanta, I'm sure I can find you a car," Joe said, not voicing his personal preference that she accept the borrowed car offer.

Amanda approached the truck and opened the door, using the built in step to climb into the cab.

"Kris said you need to replace the stuff you lost. Where first?" Joe said.

"Is there a department store on the way? Something nicer than Walmart if you can," she said.

"There's a big mall at Cool Springs. Right off the interstate."

The Cool Springs Galleria was only a short distance away. Joe drove in silence, watching the road while Amanda watched him.

"Kristal said you don't talk much."

"That was nice of her to say," Joe replied. A few more minutes passed in silence.

"Joe, I could really use some mindless chatter right now. These last few hours have worn me down," Amanda said.

"Feel free. I'm listening, but we're almost there," he said, spinning the wheel to turn onto the access road. "Where do you want to start?"

"What I meant was, would you mind talking to me?" she said with a nervous laugh. "And Macy's would be fine."

Joe snagged a parking space near the door. Amanda climbed out, but when Joe made no move to exit, she said, "Will you come with me?"

"You'd actually be more comfortable with me around while you shop, than if I was out here in the truck?" Joe asked.

"Yes. I know we just met, but I don't want to be alone right now."

They walked in together. Amanda tried on jeans and a little black dress to check the fit, but grabbed panties, bras, and blouses with just a look at the labels.

"They have the same brands I buy back home," she said.

"And where is home, Amanda?" Amanda said in a mock deep voice.

"Houston, Joe. Thanks for asking," Amanda said. "What about you? Are you from Nashville? Live here all your life?"

"Are we back to your need for mindless chatter?" Joe asked.

"Yes. Maybe I just want to feel like a human and not a piece of freight getting lugged from point A to point B."

The first reply that came to Joe was exactly that, but he held his tongue. Instead, he asked, "Are you from Houston or is it just where you live now?"

"It's been home for the last couple years."

"So what?"

"Are you really going to make me ask every question?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Where are you from? Where did you grow up?"

Amanda laughed. "I asked you first."

"I don't like talking about myself."

"Are you in witness protection or something?" Amanda asked.

"Something like that," Joe said.

Amanda looked at him, uncertainty obvious on her face. He rolled his eyes and his lips twitched up, barely.

"That's the first time I've seen you smile," Amanda said.

"I am not a merry man."

Joe did smile at the look on Amanda's face, though she had to look fast to catch it.

"You're good at that, even if you do look as grim as death," she said.

"Is that what Kris called me? Grim?"

"No. She said guarded but likable if you warm up to me."

"Ah. Where to now?" Joe asked.

"One of the cosmetics counters. I have the basics in my bag, but I still need to get a few things. Don't worry, I know exactly what I need."

On the way there, they detoured into the shoe department and Amanda picked out a pair of black pumps and a pair of low heel lug sole boots.

"That was very efficient," Joe said as they left the mall with her new belongings packed in luggage instead of bags.

"Still too long. Nearly two hours, and I have two more stops to make. Can you take me to a drug store or grocery store near by?"

At the drug store, Joe browsed the snack selection while Amanda shopped. The stop barely took fifteen minutes.

"You didn't get any chips?" Amanda asked as they left.

"That shit'll kill you," Joe said. He stopped in his tracks and looked up. "Apologies. That was rude of me."

"Well, yes, but it's nice to know you're actually human."

"I have a foul mouth. I try to keep it in check, especially in polite company," Joe said, frowning.

"Lighten up, Joe. Thank you for your consideration, but don't beat yourself up for not being perfect," Amanda said.

"Thanks. Let's go. Kris said you need to stop in Huntsville. Any other stops I should know about? We're going to be pretty late getting into Atlanta."

"That's it," Amanda said.

The truck hummed along, picking up speed as they headed south, Nashville receding behind them. Silence reigned for fifteen minutes before Amanda spoke.

"You never did tell me where you're from," she said.

"But I did tell you I don't like talking about myself," Joe said.

"Then tell me about fixing cars, or what you like about Nashville, or your sideline of rescuing damsels in distress," Amanda said.

Joe looked at her, a sidelong glance. "You don't strike me as the type that usually needs rescuing."

"Thank you, I think. It has been an exceptionally awful day, and I appreciate you doing so much for me," Amanda said.

"You know Kris isn't just being a helpful friend, right? She's trying to set us up," Joe said. Giggles were not the reaction he expected.

"Duh, Joe. She's your big sister. I think it's in the manual."

He tried again. "It doesn't bother you at all that Kris threw us together as much to jump start someone's love life as to get you to Atlanta?"

"Not really," Amanda shrugged. "My love life, as you say, could use a push right now, and it's not like we don't have a say."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Joe changed the subject. "How do you know Kris?"

"We met in LA," Amanda said without further elaboration.

Joe stopped talking, not really interested in verbal sparring over exchanging personal histories with someone who would be gone in a few hours. The tires hummed as they cruised southward.

Fifteen minutes later, Amanda asked, "Can you really go the whole trip in silence?"

"Pretty much," Joe answered.

"I'd rather not, if you don't mind," Amanda said.

"You have a captive audience," Joe said.

Amanda laughed, and Joe turned to look at her. "It wasn't that funny?"

"I thought so," Amanda said as Joe turned his full attention back to the road. "Will you answer my questions if I answer yours?"

"Probably. I reserve the right to remain silent."

"Fair enough. I'm originally from Iowa. I moved to LA with my theatre degree, planning to take the world by storm," Amanda said. "What about you?"

"I'm from a wide spot in the road east of Nashville. I grew up working on trucks and tractors, the occasional car, pretty much anything with moving parts. I lasted a year in college before bailing. I moved to Nashville and started planning my own garage," Joe said.

"Looks like your plan worked out better than mine," Amanda said.

"Maybe I just aimed a lot lower," Joe said. "Besides, I had a few bumps on the road."

"Bumps you're not going to tell me about? Can I guess?"

"I think it's your turn to share," Joe said. "How'd you meet Kris?"

"I was at a party. Supposedly, a bunch of good contacts were going to be there and I managed to get on the invite list. I think Kris was there for the same reason. I never did find out. We dodged a lot of come-ons, got a few numbers, and became friends in the process."

Joe side eyed his passenger. "I've heard some stories about Kristal's time in LA. A lot of them start with a party."

"Well, even if I had such alleged details, they aren't mine to share," Amanda said. She turned to Joe, pursing her lips with an air of exaggerated primness.

Joe laughed, feeling at ease with Amanda for the first time since they met.

"That's a good rule. I like it," Joe said. "More people should have rules like that."

"I know you don't know me, but that rule would apply to you too. What's said in Joe's truck stays in Joe's truck," Amanda said.

"Valerie," Joe said.

"Who? The woman who did you wrong?" Amanda asked.

"My truck. You can call her Val for short. I think she's okay with that," Joe said.

"Well, thank you, Joe and Val, for helping a total stranger," Amanda said. They rolled on in silence for a while.

"It was a really bad scene," Joe said, eyes still fixed on the road ahead.

Amanda sat up, focused entirely on Joe. "Scene?" she asked.

"Yeah. A very public breakup. Lots of friends there." Joe blew out a long breath. "People I thought were friends. I was so stupid. Kris was there too, which saved me and made it that much worse at the same time."

"How long ago was all this?" Amanda asked.

Joe turned his head slightly, dividing his attention between the road and his passenger.

"You a shrink, Amanda? How much did Kristal tell you?"

"I'm not a shrink, and Kristal didn't tell me anything that I haven't already told you," Amanda said.

"Sorry. I just know she's up to something that's going to piss me off."

"Who? Your sister or the mystery ex?" Amanda asked.

Joe laughed. "Kristal. Definitely Kristal. She thinks she knows best for everyone. Be careful. She'll try to marry you off to someone else when I don't pan out."

Joe changed the subject before Amanda could ask more questions.

"First Huntsville exit coming up. Can you give me some directions to the next stop?"

Amanda checked her phone, directing Joe to take the exit. They spent the next hour immersed in driving, directions, and Amanda's GPS, before finally arriving at a deceptively small looking house on a hillside in the southern end of the city.

"I still think it would have been quicker to stay on 65," Joe said as he exited the truck.

"My app said traffic was backed up between the interstate and the airport," Amanda said as they approached the front porch. Late spring floral scents filled the air, and Joe sneezed just as the front door opened and they were invited into the house.

"Bless you," the man said. "You made good time, Miss Haile. It is nice to meet you," he said, shaking Amanda's hand.

He turned to Joe. "Carl Wilson." He held his hand out as Joe struggled not to sneeze again.

"Joe Axel."

Joe missed Carl's widening eyes. Carl quickly regained control of his expression and turned to Amanda.

"Miss Haile, I have your entire order packed and ready, and almost everything you needed to replace following your unfortunate accident," Carl said, nodding at two hard shelled shipping cases.

Amanda turned to Joe. "I hate to ask, but could you help me get the boxes settled in the truck?"

Joe didn't answer. He stared at one of the cases, black hard shell with a large gold letter Q crossed by a gold key. Then he looked around, studying the neutral color scheme of the front hall, the unremarkable prints on the walls, and the closed doors along the length of the hall before silently turning back to Carl.

"You're the Quartermaster?” Joe said in a barely audible growl.

"Joe?" Amanda said.

Joe turned to Amanda. “Which means you're a domme, of course?” His eyes narrowed to slits as he inhaled sharply. “That fucking bitch,” Joe said. He turned, stepping onto the porch as he pulled out his phone.

Amanda moved to follow, but Carl put his hand on her shoulder. She turned, but before she could express her annoyance at being grabbed, Carl spoke.

"You didn't know? Who you were traveling with?"

She was interrupted a second time, now by Joe's angry shouts from the front porch.

"Stay the fuck out of my life you chickenshit. Don't call. Don't write. And for fuck sake don't you ever try to visit!"

The yelling ended with a loud crack and Amanda turned to see two halves of a smart phone clatter to the wood planks of Carl's front porch. Joe sat down on the top step and leaned against a post.

Amanda stepped out, Carl close behind her. Amanda's phone chirped, but she silenced it.

"I'm leaving now," Joe said. "I'll still take you to Atlanta if you want, or back to Nashville, or anywhere in between. No questions asked. I don't want to know who you are, what you're doing, or where you're going next. That's the deal."

"Joe, I don't understand. What's going on?" Amanda asked.

"No questions asked, Amanda," Joe repeated. "I thought you didn't meet people in person, Wilson. If I'd known, I'd have saved your handiwork to return to you. They performed so admirably."

"I'm truly sorry, Mr. Axel…"

"Can the shit. I don't hold it against you." Joe said. He got to his feet and dusted off his jeans.

"Wait! I need to get my stuff, if the offer still stands," Amanda said.

"Miss Haile, I can…"

"No. I trust Joe. He won't break his word. Please help me get my boxes," Amanda said.

They wrestled the heavy rolling crates into the truck bed and tied them down while Joe waited in the driver's seat.

Carl walked Amanda to the passenger door. "I can text you the story if you want. You should know what you are getting into,"

"Later. I'd like to hear it from him first," Amanda said.

"From what I know, hell will freeze solid before you get it from him. Good luck, Miss Haile," Carl said as he opened the door for her.

Chapter 2 – Amanda's Ride She halfway expected to depart with an engine roar and the squeal of spinning tires, but Joe eased out of the driveway and onto the neighborhood street as if he did not have a white knuckled death grip on the steering wheel.

"You're hurting her," Amanda said after a few minutes.

"What? Who?"

"Valerie. You're about to bend the steering wheel," Amanda said.

Joe looked down at his hands and gradually relaxed his grip. "I'm taking 231 south to 36 to get back to I-65. I only know one way to get to Atlanta. If you would look up directions to your destination, that would be helpful."

"The Plaza Hotel, downtown off Peachtree, near Georgia Tech. It's hosting a new con called Fetteration," Amanda started explaining.

“I don't want to know,” Joe said.

Amanda retrieved her phone to get directions. “Kristal has called me eight times and sent me five texts.”

“I would thank you for not calling her while you're with me,” Joe said.

“Can I text her and let her know we're alright?”

“Whatever.”

Amanda busied herself with the phone for a few minutes, finally getting Kristal to agree to leave them alone for a while.

“She…”

“I don't care, and I don't want to hear any more about her. Ever,” Joe said. "It's about four more hours to Atlanta. Why don't you get some sleep?"

Amanda laughed. "After all this," she waved her arms. "I doubt sleep is really in the cards. Besides, you just don't want to talk, or listen to me, or have me ask annoying follow up questions."

Joe remained silent.

"But you aren't mad at me," Amanda said. "Are you?"

"I'm mad at myself for being such a sucker, and I'm furious with Kris for being a manipulative know it all bitch who doesn't listen to what I want," Joe said, glaring at Amanda for a moment before turning back to the road.

"Are you really never speaking to her again? People say stuff like that, but you're the first person I've met who could probably actually do it," Amanda said.

"Don't be an ass kissing suck up."

"Wow. What happened to not swearing in polite company? I guess something changed. What could that be?" Amanda said, Joe did not rise to her bait.

"Really, Joe. We seemed to be getting along so well those last sixty miles or so." Amanda paused, working it out in her head.

"And then you figured out that I'm in the scene, and now I'm not polite company anymore. So that bad scene you mentioned before, it wasn't just a bad breakup? Was that a slip of the tongue or were you testing me?"

Joe's hands had resumed their earlier death grip on the wheel. The muscles in his forearms stood out beneath his skin. Amanda decided to change direction.

"What gave it away?" she asked.

"Wilson's house smelled like a leather shop. My nose was messed up and my eyes were watering, but once we were inside for a minute…" Joe let the words trail away.

"And then you saw his little trademark on my case and everything fell into place," Amanda said.

"Congratulations, Sherlock. You solved the mystery. Now will you please just shut up and leave me alone!" Joe said.

"You forgot to swear at me," Amanda teased.

Joe kept his eyes locked to the road and the traffic heading south.

"In six hours we could be at the beach," he said. "I haven't had a vacation in years. A bunch of us went to the Gulf after graduation. We had saved for two years to take that trip and we still barely scraped by."

"Are you asking me to go to the beach with you, Joe?"

"Oh, fuck no. I'm just reminiscing about a time when my simple little life held no interest to the deviant, psychologically damaged, sick, fucked up bastards of the world," Joe said without looking over at his target.

Amanda recoiled in her seat, pressing into the door. Joe's vitriolic indictment stung her as no barrage of foul language could have.

"I'm sorry, Joe. For whatever incident so colored your opinion of me, sight unseen. It must have been awful. From the way Carl reacted to you, I suspect a fight was involved too."

"Those psych electives are coming in handy, aren't they? I took one, in my two semesters of college. I made a B," Joe said.

"You can stop trying to hurt me, Joe…"

"Then you can stop trying to be my damn friend, shut your pie hole, and just look out the window. I don't want to talk, commiserate, therapize, understand, fall in love, patch things up with my bitch sister, or explore my conflicted feelings about the kink world. Did I leave anything out? No! Don't answer that."

Amanda sat in silence for another ten miles.

"What happened?"

"Ask around at your con. Or call Kris or Carl Wilson," Joe said.

"The short version is you got hurt and burned every bridge you could set ablaze," Amanda said. "Is there anything you miss, Joe? Would it help to see a scene that doesn't end up hurting someone? Do you still have any unresolved feelings or fantasies from those times?"

"Yeah," he said after a minute of quiet. "But, you know, fantasies like that are just," he paused. "Some things are just unrealizable. They have to stay fantasy."

"Well, yes, that is often the nature of such thoughts," she said. "I'd like to hear it anyway, if that's not too personal."

Misery · Part 1 (1/3)
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