Nine Minutes (27 page)

An Excerpt from Book Two in this Series

Out of Time

1976

Grunt
leaned his head against the wall and sighed. He was sitting on his bed trying
to concentrate on his homework, but he couldn’t. He closed his eyes and
immediately saw her. Kit. She was laughing at something he’d said during one of
their chess lessons. Well, they used to be lessons, but she was smart and could
almost beat him. He’d thought more than once about letting her win, but that
wasn’t Kit’s way. She would have to beat him fair and square. Maybe one day she
would.

     
Kit was the girl
who lived a few units down from him. Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t
really call her a girl. She had been living with the gang since she was fifteen
and was married to their leader. She was now sixteen and had experienced more
in the last year than some grown women would in a lifetime. No, Kit was
definitely no longer a girl. She was a woman. And she was the woman he had been
in love with for a very long time. Even before she came to the motel.

     
He had
accompanied
Grizz
many times over the years to keep
an eye on the young girl, who was then called
Gwinny
.
He didn’t know why
Grizz
took him along. Maybe people
were less suspicious of a man who had a kid with him. He was sure they assumed
he was
Grizz’s
younger brother or son. It didn’t
matter. He always looked forward to the times he would be able to watch her. He
didn’t remember the exact moment it became love. There had been too many times
to count how often he’d observed her do something over the years that melted
his heart.

     
He remembered her
first night at the motel. It was last May. He didn’t know
Grizz
was going to bring her here. He had secretly hoped maybe
Grizz
would step aside and let her find her own destiny. If that was the case, Grunt
was certain he could insert himself into her life. He’d imagined it a thousand
times—casually running into her somewhere. Making small talk. Making her
laugh. Hell, he’d even thought about enrolling in her school, but that charade
would be too difficult to maintain. Especially since he was already in college,
and he had no doubt that
Grizz
wouldn’t have allowed
it.

     
He laughed to
himself at the memory. People in love are willing to do desperate things, he
thought. He’d never imagined
Grizz
was falling for
her, too. He knew about the obsession, but couldn’t remember when it became
more than that for
Grizz
. He was too busy wrapping
himself in his own fantasies of a life with her. A future. Unfortunately, as
long as
Grizz
was around, no other man would ever
have a chance with Kit, let alone a future.

     
Her first night
at the motel was seared in his memory. He had been leaning back in a lawn chair
staring into the fire. Willow and
Chicky
were arguing
about something. Monster pulled up on his motorcycle. He could tell there was a
female on the back. He’s certain he gasped when he noticed it was
her
, and Monster was walking her toward the pit. What the fuck?

     
He half listened
as
Willow
argued with Monster about the girl being a
“thank you gift.” Bullshit. He knew better. She was only fifteen and probably
scared to death. But if she was scared, she certainly wasn’t showing it. He
watched her as she calmly observed the exchange between Willow and Monster. He
knew she hadn’t seen
Grizz
when he walked up next to
her. What would her reaction be to him? He watched as she noticed
Grizz
for the first time, her eyes slowly moving up his
body until they reached his face. She showed no emotion that he could detect.
When Willow lunged for her and
Grizz
intervened, she
never even flinched. He couldn’t believe how brave she was that night. The
dying campfire cast an almost angelic glow on her face. The face he had loved for
a long time. And now she was here, and she belonged to
Grizz
.

     
He’d watched that
first night as Moe led her to number four, listened as
Grizz
told the gang they were never to discuss her. They weren’t to look at her,
speak to her or address her presence at the motel. Ever. He then watched
Grizz
turn around and go inside.

     
It was only a few
minutes before Moe came out. She was walking toward the pit with her head down.
Grunt jumped up and walked quickly toward her. He gently took her arm and led
her to his unit. He heard some laughter from the pit. Let them think what they
wanted. Once inside, he asked her, “Is she okay? Was she crying or anything?”

     
Moe looked up at
him with an odd expression on her face. She nodded. Shit. Which question was
she answering? He grabbed a piece of notebook paper and a pencil and handed it
to Moe.

     
“Let’s start
over. Is she okay?”

     
Moe nodded yes.

     
“Please don’t
make me ask you, Moe. Just tell me what’s going on inside number four.”

     
Moe wrote, “Seems
okay. Not crying. Not afraid of him.”

     
He was relieved.
“Good. What else?”

     
Moe retrieved
something from her pocket. It was a wallet. She laid it on his bed and wrote
something else on the paper. “Have to burn it.”

     
He looked at her
without saying anything. Seconds ticked by.

     
“Will you keep
it? Will you hide it? Will you do that for me, Moe?”

     
She nodded yes.

     
He took the paper
she had been writing on and crumpled it up. He would take it out to the pit and
toss it in the fire. He left Moe standing in his room. He ignored the whistles
and lewd catcalls concerning his and Moe’s time together.
Assholes
.

     
If he had taken
even a moment to stop and look back at Moe before he left the room, he would
have seen an expression on her face he hadn’t seen before.
The
look of a woman who loved someone who could never be hers.
It wasn’t
just the age difference that would have stopped it. Moe had the look of a woman
who just realized the man she loves is in love with somebody else.

     
It was the look
of despair.

     
Grunt was jolted
back to the present by a loud commotion outside. He got up and went to his
window. He shook his head as he watched the scene. Typical—some guys had
lured a young couple back to the motel and were tormenting them.
Grizz
commanded the dogs to be quiet, but he ignored what was
going on just a few feet away from him. He was talking to Chico, who was
probably setting up some of kind delivery. It didn’t matter. Whatever it was,
it was certainly illegal.

     
Just then, Grunt
noticed movement to the left. Kit. She was walking purposefully toward
Grizz
. She said something to him that Grunt couldn’t hear.
Grizz
replied to her, but apparently it didn’t satisfy her
because she didn’t go away. He saw
Grizz
nod to
Chico, and Chico said something to one of the other guys. Grunt saw her flinch
when the couple was executed.

     
She turned around
and started back toward number four. He could see her face clearly. She was
upset, but trying to control it. Good. This would work out for him. He wouldn’t
have to come up with a plan to lure Kit away from
Grizz
.
Grizz’s
ruthlessness would push her away. He would
wait. He needed some time anyway. He would graduate college, make something of
himself and be able to offer her a life away from this band of criminals. It
would just take some time. He would let
Grizz
continue to show her what a bastard he truly was. Chess was Grunt’s game, and
he was the best. This wasn’t chess, but it would be the most serious and
important game he’d ever played in his life. Each move would have to be
painstakingly calculated.

     
He smiled as he
watched
Grizz
striding toward number four. The game
was on and Grunt hadn’t lost one yet.

Acknowledgements

I was raised in South Florida, primarily Ft.
Lauderdale, and did my best to remember it as it was in the 1970s. I’m not
certain I got it right every time, but I tried. I also gave some fictional
names to some real places. This particular motorcycle gang—their names,
their motel,
their
rituals, all of it—exists
only in my imagination. The idea for
Grizz
sprang
from a very old memory of somebody I briefly knew when I was fifteen.

There are so many
people to thank and acknowledge for their help with this novel. It’s impossible
for me to list them in order of importance because every person contributed in
an important way. Some served as beta readers. Others offered their advice,
which I didn’t always follow, but was happy to hear. If there are errors, they
are strictly my own. My apologies if I accidentally left someone out.

My deep thanks go to the following:

Jim Flynn, who never
once doubted my ability to bring this story to life.
Grizz’s
love and protection of Ginny is based on how Jim has treated me every day
during our
thirty year
marriage.

Kelli Flynn, who
called me from New York City on a very cold day as she made her way down First
Avenue and told me I should write a book. It was the actual moment Nine Minutes
was conceived. She consistently challenged me when I would send her excerpts.
She posed as Ginny for the front cover. She also decided that Ginny needed a
friend her own age. Chowder was my original choice to be Kit’s friend and
confidant. Grunt was Kelli’s idea. I think she was right.

Katie Flynn, who spent
exhaustive hours researching everything from popular song titles in the 1970s
to rattlesnake bites and everything in between. She did everything she could,
without complaint, including running our household when I needed to just “write
one more chapter.”

Jessica
Connor, editor extraordinaire and cherished friend.
Her guidance and
encouragement throughout the entire process kept me focused and gave me
confidence.

Cheryl
Desmidt
, who edited one of my first drafts and did her best
to keep me true to the 1970s
.

Mary Dry, one of my
early beta readers who listened patiently and offered advice when I would run
ideas past her. It was Mary who insisted Kit could not cheat on
Grizz
.

Kelli
Blasi
, another early beta reader, who gave me the idea for
Matthew
Rockman
.

Michael
Blasi
, who told me, “Throw two coral snakes in the empty
pool with Willow and Darryl. You know
,
if you really
want
Grizz
to be as rotten as you say he is.”

Christy
Waymouth
, an early beta reader, who provided valuable
feedback that actually made me re-write some aspects of this novel so they
would flow easily into Book Two.

Tommy Cooley, who very
early on gave me some insight to help with the Grunt character. It only seemed
natural that Grunt should be named after him.

Sarah Jo Morgan, who
gave me her likeness and name for Sarah Jo. She researched popular names in the
1960s and told me that
Grizz
couldn’t smoke Marlboros.
He had to smoke Lucky Strikes.

Matt Brodie,
photographer and book cover designer, for creating my dream cover.

Allison
M. Simon, who kindly and patiently answered my never-ending questions about
self-publishing.
She guided me in the final steps of this book’s release.

Chase
McKeown
, who posed as
Grizz
for
the
cover.

Tyson
Keanum
, whose hair and make-up expertise gave Kelli (Ginny)
the perfect look for the
cover.

Thank you also to Pat
Blasi
, Mary McGrath Connor, Carolyn Franz, Kaye Heller, Jennifer
Hewitt, Joanie Kelly, Gail Milne, Susan Paine, Glenna
Petryszak
,
Deanna
Klingel
, as well as to Harley Haven in
Columbia, S.C.

And finally last, and
in no way least, to Susan Anton who didn’t laugh at me when I told her the
real reason I wanted to write this book
.
Her reaction gave me the courage to write the first word.

My heartfelt thanks to everyone involved in
the process of making Nine Minutes a reality and to everyone who has actually
read it. Thank you. I’d love to hear from you!

Beth Flynn

P.O. Box 2833

Cashiers, NC
 
28717

[email protected]

www.AuthorBethFlynn.com