RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance (40 page)

BOOK: RECKLESS — Bad Boy Criminal Romance
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Terrell forces a smile.  “You’re fucking with me.”

“No, I’d like to spend several thousand dollars.  Maybe more.  You can help me get it, can’t you?”

“No way you’re serious.”

I look at him and don’t say anything.

“You don’t really want to go down that path, do you?”

“It’s my life, right?”

 

Cassie sits on her couch expectantly, her hands clasped on her lap.  There’s a knock at the door and she answers it.

“Hey.”  Curtis kisses her and walks inside.  “You been alright?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Cassie says.  “I’m out of weed.  Could I get some?”

“I’ll have someone stop by tomorrow.”  Curtis takes his cell phone, car keys, and wallet out of his black wool pea coat.  He drops them on the coffee table, removes his coat, and steps toward the foyer closet.

“Here, let me grab it.”  Cassie takes his coat, cracks the closet door open and hangs the coat on a hanger.  “What have you been up to lately?”

“Working ’round the clock as usual.”

“I wish you could take time off and come over more.”

“Work is constant worry and hassle.  It’s the corner I’ve painted myself into with what I do.  The reward is money.  The downsides are stress and no time.  Never any time.  When I do get some, you’re the person I come see.”

“Always?”

“Sure.  What else do you think I’d do?”

“It’s just that you’re the boss.  I wish you could make it so we could spend more time together.”

“You know what life is like?” Curtis asks.  “When you do something, or when you make a decision, you close a door.  When you choose a career, you close a door to other careers and opportunities.  When you choose a serious relationship or marriage, you close a door to other possible mates.  I know people who have kids and it’s the same thing.  You choose to have kids and you close the door to all kinds of things –the ability to pursue certain interests or hobbies or the personal free time to just relax and have fun and be irresponsible.  And when you fuck up, you close doors too.  You ruin a relationship, a friendship, a business arrangement – you close doors to different people and all the good and bad things that come with them.  You make these decisions.  You do these things in life, smart and dumb.  Sometimes, in the beginning, when you’re young, you don’t even realize what you’re doing, closing all these doors along the way.  Then, next thing you know, years down the road, you’re stuck in a room, all the doors or locked and you’re not going anywhere.  You’re trapped in a certain space because all the things you’ve done and all the decisions you’ve made have shut doors.”

“Is that explanation your way of blowing me off?”

Curtis chuckles.  “It’s my way of explaining to you what my life is like.  My chosen career has put me in a certain place and I don’t see any way out.  Not that I want out, but … what?  Do you expect me to quit what I’m doing now and get a job as the manager of a burger drive-through so we can see each other more often?”

“I was just asking.  I don’t see or hear from you for days a time.  Sometimes an entire week.  I can miss you, can’t I?”

“Sure, I’d probably miss me too.  Look, as long you’re with me, you’ll be taken care of.  This apartment, clothes, shoes, food, drugs, whatever the fuck you want.  I know you may not see me as much as you’d like, but fuck it.  You live better than most.”

“You don’t come around as much as you used to,” Cassie says.

“I know.  Things have been crazy lately.  But all you got to do is stay pretty and be here for me when I come visit.  I come see you any time I can.”

“I wonder where I’m going to get stuck.”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing with the doors.  I wonder what doors I’m closing in life and where I’ll end up stuck.”

“All I know is right now we’re stuck together.  Why don’t we make the most of it?”  Curtis kisses her and soon Cassie leads him to her bedroom and closes the door.

I step out of the foyer closet.  I pick Curtis’s wallet off the coffee table.  Inside are a driver license and credit cards and three-thousand dollars in cash.  I pocket the cash and place the wallet back on the table.  I pick up his car keys and leave the apartment.  I walk into the parking lot and see Curtis’s car, a silver BMW 7-series.  Across the complex, in a lot by another apartment, is my Toyota.  I jog over to my car and drive over to the BMW and park behind it.  No moving cars are near nor is anyone outside.  I pop the trunks of Curtis’s car and mine.  In my trunk is two pounds of cocaine.  I transfer it into the BMW, shut both trunks, and pull the Toyota into a parking space.  I hustle back up to the apartment.  Before I enter, I put my ear to the door and listen.  I hear nothing and crack the door open and peek inside.  Cassie and Curtis are still in the closed bedroom.  I return Curtis’s keys to the coffee table beside his wallet and phone and then exit.

I drive the Toyota over to the complex swimming pool and volleyball court.  A payphone sits near the pool.  I park, pick up the phone, and dial.

“Nine-one-one.  What’s your emergency?”

“I’m at the Camden Creek Apartments,” I say.  “There’s a car parked outside apartment number 22G.  It’s owned by a man named Curtis Reznok.  There’s a large quantity of drugs in the back trunk he’s dealing.  Cocaine, I think.  I caught a good look at it.”

“What’s a description of the car?”

“Silver BMW 7, brand new.  He’s not in the car right now.  He’s up in the apartment with a girl.”

“And what’s your name, sir?”

“You should hurry.  I don’t know how long he’ll be here.”  I hang up, hop back in the car and find a parking space outside a nearby apartment where 22-G is visible, though not too close.

Within minutes a patrol car arrives.  Then another.  And then another.  An officer leads a drug-detection dog around the entire outside of the BMW.  Its tongue wagging, the dogs sniffs around the vehicle until barking and lunging toward the trunk.

A police van arrives.  A small team with firearms drawn enters apartment 22-G.  About fifteen minutes later they return, their guns returned to their holsters, with Curtis fully-clothed in his coat, his arms handcuffed behind his back.  He keeps his head up, his left eye still swollen from my punch.  Curtis walks with a bemused, unfocused stare as they lead him into the back of a patrol car. 

Police continue to inspect the scene including the parking lot and the inside of Cassie’s apartment.  They question her but she doesn’t say much, mostly sticking to one- or two-word answers.  It’s approximately two and a half hours and pitch dark before they’re completely gone.

I walk back over to 22-G and enter.

Cassie appears emotionally and mentally drained, quivering slightly as she sits on the couch.

“Remember when you used to get pissed off at me?” I ask.  “You got upset I never bought you anything or gave you any gifts.  And I’d ask you what was the point since you didn’t need anything and I wasn’t sure if it’d make you love me more or what the fuck difference it made.”

Cassie’s face is blank, fragile, difficult to get a read on.

I reach into my pocket and take out the three-thousand dollars I stole from Curtis.  I drop it on the coffee table.  “I want to give you this.  Not because I feel I have to.  And not because I think I’m going to get anything out of it.  I did love you at one time. Even now, I care about you.  I want you to be okay.”

Cassie doesn’t say anything.

“You’ll probably go back to your parents and they’ll take care of you.  So take the money and do whatever you want with it.  I’m sure you’ll think of something.”  I turn to leave.

“Where are you going?” Cassie asks, breaking her silence.  “What are you going to do now?”

“I think I’m going to try something different.  I’d like to stop running around and find a place where I could live a while.  Get a regular job, maybe get in school.  Try being normal and see what that’s like.”

“Any ideas what I should do with this money?” she asks.

“Use it to start changing your life,” I say.  “Keep yourself from getting stuck.”

“You heard that?”  She breaks a small smile.

“You don’t want to end up in a room with all the doors locked or whatever.”

Cassie shakes her head and grins.

“He was right though.  Be smart, keep your options open.”

Her smile fades and again she looks mired in turmoil.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m just afraid.”

“About what?”

“Whether or not I just did the right thing.  I’m pretty sure I did, but I don’t know.  My nerves are just raw right now.”

“You’ll end up better than ever.”  I step toward the couch, lean down, and kiss her on the cheek.  “Take care, okay?”

“I can’t believe you got me to do this.”  She looks at me innocently and asks, “How do you get people to do whatever you want?”

“People do what they want to do.  All I ever do is coax it out of them.”

 

It is dawn and Angela and I toss our suitcases into the trunk of the Toyota.  She sits in the passenger seat as the car warms up.  Our breaths visible in the cold, Terrell and I stand on the front stoop of his house.  “On the run again?” he asks.

“At least for the time being.”

Terrell nods.

“How bad do you think the fallout will be?”

“For some, pretty ugly.  For me?  I just own and run some classy, little law-abiding club.  I’ve never done a thing wrong in my life.”

“Me neither.”

“You okay on money?”

“I’m in good shape.  Thanks for everything.”  I hug him.  “I love you.”

“Don’t stay away so long this time.”  He hugs me tightly.  “Stay out of trouble.”

I get in my car, Angela at my side, and leave Memphis.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

COOKEVILLE, Tenn. – “What are we going to do next?” Angela asks.

              “I’m not sure yet.”

              “This is exactly what I wanted when I first met you.”

              I sit on a motel bed, my back against the headboard.

              She sits at the foot of the bed, her legs crossed.  “This is the type of lifestyle I pictured having with you – travelling, outsmarting people, making money.  We can do whatever we want and no one can stop us.  It doesn’t matter who it is.  We’re too smart and too fast.”

              I listen to her.

“While most people are going to jobs they hate every day, playing by the rules, thinking they’ll get ahead in life, we’re taking whatever we want.”

“It’s been good.  Having you around has helped.”

“Being with you and having these experiences has taught me: people feed on each other.  You either consume what you want without apology or you get swallowed up.  It depends on where you are on the food chain.  Though, truth be told, we’ve been taking down some people bigger than us.”

“It doesn’t matter how big you are.  If it did, the elephant would the king of the jungle instead of the lion.”

“Yeah … you’re right.”  Angela smiles and scoots toward me on the bed and we kiss.

My hand starts near her knee and moves up her leg.  I unbuckle the top button of her blue jeans.

              “Wait.”  She pulls away from me.  “Let’s do this later.  Let’s go out tonight and do something.”

              I nod.  “We could look around and see what there is.”

In the Toyota we drive around the city and come across a football stadium mobbed with crowds.  The play-by-play is called over loudspeakers and chants are audible.

“Let’s go watch for a second,” I say.

              “I don’t want to.”

              “C’mon.”  I pull into the parking lot.

              The night weather is a stagnant cold with stars visible in the clear dark sky.  We both wear heavy coats.

“I don’t like this,” Angela says as we walk toward the gate.

              “Why not?”

              “I’m morally opposed to it.”

              “Football is too violent?”

              “No, I think sports are boring.”

              “I used to play.”

              “You did?” she asks, surprised.

              “Yeah, a long time ago.”  I buy us each a ticket.  “Maybe you just don’t understand the game.  I’ll explain it to you.”

              The game being played is for a high school state championship.  We find a seat in the stands and watch the game which is already in the second half.

              After a series of plays Angela asks, “Can we get something to drink?”

I walk with her to the concession stand and we get in a short line.

A teenage couple gets in line behind us.  The guy wears a Tennessee Titans coat and a backwards baseball cap.  The girl, with sandy blond hair, looks at Angela’s waist and comments, “That’s a really cute belt.”

              “Oh,” Angela turns and notices her.  “Thanks.”

              “I just bought one kind of like that.  I got it on sale, half-off.”

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