Page 122 of Dirty

The ride to wherever we went was interesting, to say the least. It was similar to sitting on the bike in the garage with my eyes closed, only better. I wouldn’t want to wear the special helmet all the time, but it was pretty cool wearing it on that evening.

After the bike came to a stop, he shut it off.

I waited for him to tell me it was okay to take it off, and then began to wonder what the surprise was. During the entire ride I was immersed in trying to figure out where we were, and had forgotten about the reason for wearing it.

He unbuckled the helmet, and pulled it off my head.

I blinked my eyes, looked around, and quickly recognized the home from when we met the realtor a few weeks back.

“I thought you didn’t get the bid.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t.”

“Why are we here?”

He reached in his pocket, pulled out my car keys, and handed them to me.

I looked at them, and then at him. I didn’t understand. My car was at home. “Why’d you give me these? I don’t want ‘em.”

“Tough shit.”

I shook my head and stuffed them in my pocket. “Weirdo.”

I looked at the house. “Oh wow. Look. They planted another palm tree, and re-landscaped. That rubber tree wasn’t there.”

He looked at the yard and nodded upon seeing it. “C’mon.”

“What are we doing?”

He grabbed me by the hand and took off walking up the sidewalk. “We’re going to go fuck in there.”

The thought excited me to no end. “Oh my God. Tell me they’re letting you use it for a night. Tell me you have a key.”

“Nope.”

I followed him onto the porch, and then looked up and down the block. “I don’t want to get in any trouble.”

He tried the door, and, as I could have already told him, it was locked. “Shit. I wish I had the key.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said.

He looked at me. “You do. I don’t.”

I shot him a look. “Huh?”

“The key’s in your pocket.”

I pulled the keys from my pocket. A pink leopard pattern key stood out from all the others. I’d never seen it before.”

I pushed the key into the lock, turned it, and then looked at him.

He pushed the door open. “I’ll be damned, it fit.”

The smell hit me instantly. The smell of new. The tile, carpet, and paint were all new. The home was filled with furniture, and there was artwork on all the walls.

Everything that was broken had been fixed. After admiring the gorgeous home and its furnishings, I turned to face him. “Adam. Someone lives here.”

He looked around. “Yeah. Looks like it, huh?”