With her hands behind her head and her toes playing with the net of the hammock, she relaxed and let her mind drift back to last Saturday’s tennis game. Linda and Bernice had asked her to play as Joe’s partner in a game of doubles. She hadn’t been interested until she saw Joe. In shorts and a tank top, he looked more like a body builder than a policeman. Like her, he had black hair. Unlike her, he also had a magnificent mustache. Dark and thick, the neatly trimmed “cookie-duster,” as he called it, still let Marianne see the shape of his mouth. His teeth flashed in frequent smiles and his fluid lips seemed to twitch in amusement almost as often as others blinked. And his eyes! Deep blue and full of twinkles, not the expressionless ice of most blue eyes. They were bedroom eyes, the male equivalent of Betty Davis eyes. It made Marianne warm just to remember them.

More than Joe’s appearance attracted Marianne’s attention though. He was just plain fun to be around. He teased her and she teased him back, surprised at how quickly she was comfortable around him. The light flirtation had been diverting but non-threatening because he didn’t push her or get lewd. After the game, they went to the Waffle House for coffee and conversation where Marianne saw another side of Joe. He was sensitive and intel­ligent as well as playful and witty. The day ended too quickly for Marianne. Usually she couldn’t wait to get away from guys that Bernice had paired her up with. This time she left Joe’s company longing for more.

Marianne’s reverie was broken by the sound of feet rustling through the grass. She hadn’t heard Bernice’s car but recognized the pattern of his movements. Swinging her feet over the side of the hammock, she opened her eyes and smiled a greeting. The smile flickered out and her brows knitted in concern at the expression on Bernice’s face. He was clearly upset. “Bernice! What’s wrong? Did something happen at work?”

“No, nothing happened at work.” His voice was calm and cold the way it was only when he was angry — very angry. He held out his hand, palm up. “Give me the keys to your bike, Marianne. Then we’ve got some talking to do.”

An icy fear gripped Marianne as it dawned on her that, somehow, he knew. And that he planned on much more than mere talk. Just the way he was standing, rigid with fury, told her that she wouldn’t get off without a hard, long spanking. That didn’t mean that she wouldn’t try. “What do you mean, Bernice? What do you think I’ve done?”

“It’s what I know you’ve done, you little idiot. You could have killed yourself or someone else today. Never in my life would I have thought that you’d be so reckless. Speeding’s one thing, but driving the wrong way on an Interstate? I didn’t take you for such a fool.” He nodded toward his outstretched hand, his blue eyes flashing and a lock of his coal black hair falling over his forehead. “Give me the keys. I’m not going to ask again.”

Realizing now that it was hopeless, she gave in. Her shoulders slumped and she dug her keys out of her jeans pocket, taking as much time as she could get away with without seeming too obvious. She finally slapped them into Bernice’s hand with a sigh. With every fiber of her body, she wanted to kill whoever had ratted on her. “How on earth did you find out? Who told you?”

“I did.” Joe’s voice came from behind Bernice. As her brother stepped back and Joe came up beside him, peeling off his dark aviator glasses, Marianne was struck with how much they looked alike. Both were wearing jeans and light colored shirts. Both had black hair and blue eyes. Only a slight difference in body build and Joe’s mustache made it possible to tell them apart. Joe looked more like Bernice’s sibling than Marianne did with her green eyes. Right now the fierce scowls on their faces made them look like twins.

The Pain Files

“You?” She couldn’t believe it. “How could you have known?” It was as bewildering as Bernice knowing. “How could anyone have known?”

“Easy, Marianne. I recognized you. I was the fool you left sitting on the roadside watching your dust cloud disappear.” Joe clenched and unclenched his teeth. “You’re damn lucky I didn’t get my hands on you right then. You’d have been given a ticket for everything I could think of and locked up to wait for big brother to come and bail you out.” He put both fists on his hips.

Marianne noticed how big they were, how strong his wrists looked, and shuddered. Easy, she told herself. Knowing that Bernice was going to spank her was making her think strange, impos­sible thoughts. She didn’t have to worry about the size and strength of Joe. Only Bernice mattered. She forced herself back to the real world. “I thought you worked with Bernice. What were you doing in a state police car?”

“Just because we’re friends, doesn’t mean we’re both on the Michigan force. I’m a state trooper.”

“You would have arrested me?”

“You’re damn right. A night in jail would have done you a world of good. Maybe taught you that your actions have conse­quences, ones you’d rather not face besides having your toys taken away.”

For the first time in her life, Marianne felt real shame for what she had done. It seemed different when Joe scolded her than when Bernice did. She felt the childishness of her actions like never before. She wanted to impress Joe, make him interested in her, not embarrass herself the way she had with her reckless behavior. “Are you going to arrest me now?”

“No, I’m not. You managed to get away before I got your tag number. Now, I’d have no proof. If you hadn’t ridden your bike last Saturday, I wouldn’t have recognized you at all. Thank the gods I’ll never forget what your cute little butt looks like in those skin tight jeans.”

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