The Eternal Engagement (20 page)

CHAPTER 50

Lincoln

 

 

A
s Lincoln roamed the streets of Seattle, it started to rain. That prostitute's worst nightmare would confront her if he caught her with his money. Determined to find the chick that had stolen all his cash, Lincoln stormed down Lenora Street toward
P.F.
Chang's.

At every corner he stopped. His head snapped to the left. He closed one eye, focusing on distance. Trying to spot the lady in five-inch heels and a short pink dress who left her thong in his room, the eagle-eyed precision he'd used while in Afghanistan beamed with magnified intensity. He turned the opposite direction, scanned both sides of the street.

There were too many people—mostly interracial couples, white females clinging to black men—for him to see past all of them. Some of the men and a couple of women he recognized from the VA clinic. Maybe the prostitute's stroll was over, but his hunt was just getting started.

Clenching his fist, he shouted to the sky, “I declare war!”

People around him scattered. Lincoln realized that taking that female to his hotel room had complicated his situation. It was Saturday evening. He needed the kind of help Katherine couldn't give him. The Prime Care doctor could help by refilling his prescription, but the clinic was closed. Monday was too far away. Drugs. He needed drugs to take the edge off of his anxiety so Katherine wouldn't witness his other side. He had no choice but to self-medicate with an off-the-shelf substance.

The things he'd done to that prostitute earlier he wouldn't dare do to Katherine. Not intentionally. The sex was rough the way he liked it now. He didn't care about the hooker's feelings. She was paid twenty dollars to service him. He knew he shouldn't have fucked her raw, but he did. Compared to being shot at for years, having unprotected sex meant nothing. Lincoln shouldn't have rammed his dick up the prostitute's ass, but he did. He shouldn't have taken his dick out of her ass, stuck it in her pussy, then made her perform oral sex on him, but he'd done that too.

All the rough sex he'd had with her did not include him coming. That had made him frustrated, angry to the point of wanting to beat her. But he didn't. What else had he done to her? The last thing he recalled was her telling him to relax, her making him a warm cup of tea, then watching him gulp it down. Next thing he remembered, Katherine was at his door.

Stopping in front of a small café with two tables and a few chairs outside, he placed his hand over his heart. His breaths grew shorter and closer together.

“Are you okay, mister?” a little boy asked.

Lincoln stared at the kid. His eyes narrowed. “Get away from me!” he yelled, then ran fast as he could for as long as he could in his combat boots. He screamed, “My God, please take the demons away.”

Staring at the flashing red hand, he stopped in the middle of the crosswalk, dropped to his knees in the middle of the street. He prayed for a car, a truck, a bus, or a miracle to end it all. A driver slammed on his breaks. Lincoln motioned for him to keep coming.

Covering his ears, Lincoln pleaded, “No. Don't stop! Please don't stop,” to the driver slamming on his brakes. The bass from the car thumped hard enough for him to feel the beat moving the ground beneath him.

That little boy he'd seen moments ago didn't look much different from the kid that had the suicide bomb strapped to his body when Randy was killed. Not much different from some of the kids he'd killed in order to save his own life. Tears poured into his gritty hands as he bowed his head to the asphalt. He cried, “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Someone tapped his shoulder. “Get up, man. Are you okay? Are you all right, dude?” the stranger asked, trying to lift him to his feet.

Lincoln pushed the guy away, sprinted. Three blocks back in the direction of the hotel, there she was. “You!” he shouted.

The woman in the red heels and short pink dress ran. He chased her. “You gon' give me back my money!”

Money. All he'd worked for was gone. Money. A piece of paper dictated the quality of his life. She ran fast. He ran faster. Closing the gap, he was steps away from tackling her.

Stretching his arms, he yelled, “That's right. I'm on your ass.”

He grabbed her hair. “I got you!”

She stumbled. Her left, then right shoe flew high in the air. Her body fell to the ground. A long, jet-black wig was clenched in his fist. She tucked her arms, rolled her body toward him like a bowling ball, sprang to her feet, then ran in the opposite direction.

Lincoln stared at the wig, slammed it to the ground as he stood watching the barefoot woman run down Lenora Street. Maybe they were more alike than they were different. Perhaps she was one of him, a war vet trying to survive.

Katherine was probably wondering what was taking him so long. Lincoln wasn't sure he was ready to go back to the room to see Katherine, to see pictures of Jeremiah. What if the pictures freaked him out? What if seeing his son triggered a panic attack?

The worse feeling was that Lincoln never knew what would cause him to explode or how he'd respond. He made his way back to the hotel, crossed the street, then entered the liquor store.

“Give me as much whiskey as I can get for this fifty,” he said, slapping the bill on the counter.

CHAPTER 51

Steven

 

 

T
he conversations in his head had gotten old. He was tired of bitching to himself about how his wife had betrayed him. How revenge was inevitable. Yeah, yeah, yeah. He scolded himself, “Do something about it or shut the hell up.”

Steven exited the plane at Montgomery International. He sat at the gate for a few minutes flooding his mind with evil thoughts of all the things he'd do to get back at Mona.

People watching, he wondered, How many holiday travelers were in transit to unite with partners they couldn't stand? He mouthed, “Mona Lisa, your days are numbered. For real this time.”

A woman could seriously fuck up a man's mind. His wife was probably somewhere all bubbly sexing another man while he was sitting in an airport sexually deprived. No more masturbating for him. The next time he came, he'd come inside of a woman.

Smoking, downing a bottle of whiskey, and being with another woman might help ease his tension if he didn't get blue-balls. Steven stood, shook his legs to adjust his erection, made his way to baggage claim. Maybe he'd lie, say he'd tried to locate Mona, post his divorce in the newspaper, and get him another wife without Mona knowing.

What type of woman would love him? He never thought of himself as attractive and doubted Katherine ever noticed him in an intimate way.

With the exception of giving her those earrings and few thousand dollars, he hadn't done anything for or with the woman. He wasn't a complete stranger to Katherine. He might have a chance if he treated her and her son well.

Women generally liked men that were good to their kids. Christmas was coming up in a few weeks. He could buy her son more presents than he'd imagine getting for the holidays. Buy her a new car she couldn't afford, and if he were lucky she'd show her gratitude. Sex him real good. Maybe even fall in love with him.

Most women appreciated a good man but didn't want one. Mona wasn't . . . after all he'd done for her.
Forget her.

“Steven.”

Now he was hearing voices. He imagined someone called his name.

“Steven.”

This time he was certain. He looked over his shoulder. The one person he wanted to see was the person he saw dragging her luggage, strolling toward him.

“Katherine?” he said, smiling wide.
Damn, she looks better in person.
Not wanting his manhood to greet her first, he said, “Odd meeting you here. Where're you coming from, or going to, I should ask?”

She had on a black dress and heels. Her makeup was fresh, lipstick inviting. He longed to kiss her lips, but that would be inappropriate. Didn't keep him from lusting. His dick expanded an inch or two down his leg.

“Good to see you,” she said, giving him a hug.

Her perky breasts pressed against his chest. He hugged her.
Damn.
She wasn't wearing a bra.
Were those her nipples he felt?
He didn't want to let go, but he had to. If no one was watching, and if she'd let him, he'd bend her over the carousel, take her for a ride on his horse.

“You were in Bakersfield two days ago. You didn't tell me you were coming home.”

“A lot can happen in two days,” he said, thinking about where he'd left Davis's body.

Katherine exhaled. “Isn't that the truth.”

“I needed to come home and check on my parents and my house. I should rent my place, but then what would I do with all my things?”

“You mean yours and Mona's things. Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Your parents, they're okay?”

He was hoping Katherine would've taken the bait and inquired about renting his house. What grown woman wanted to live with her mother? “They're fine. Just being a good son,” he said, hoping to gain cool points.

“Are they picking you up?” she asked, standing tall. Her breasts thrust forward.

Trying not to focus on wanting to feel those nipples against his chest again, he answered, “No, I'ma hop on the bus.”

“No, you will not. You don't have to do that. I'm parked in long-term, so you're riding with me. That is, if you don't mind my little sedan.” She headed toward the parking exit.

Taking her bag, he followed her. Her ass was amazing. The way her dress separated her cheeks made him want to separate them more.

“Jeremiah and I both could use more leg room, but my car is almost paid for,” she said, laughing. “I'm going to use the check Mona wrote me to pay it off. That is, if it's any good.”

Steven froze behind her in the shuttle doorway. “What did you just say?”

Katherine sat and placed her purse on her lap. “My car is almost paid for. I'm going to pay it off.”

“With?”

“The check Mona wrote me.”

“That's what I thought I heard.” Not wanting the other riders ear hustling, he sat quickly and was quiet until they arrived at her car at long-term parking.

When she unlocked her car, he opened the driver's door. “Get in. I've got our bags.” Steven tossed both bags in the trunk, hurried to the passenger side. Getting in Katherine's car, he said, “Mona Lisa Cunningham wrote you a check. What for?”

“I loaned—” she said, then stopped. “It doesn't matter. Long story. The check is in her maiden name. I just better not see her crossing the street while I'm driving.”

The bitterness in her words mirrored his sentiments about Mona. He wanted to ask Katherine about Lincoln, but he wasn't prepared to hear her say, “I love him.” If Steven got involved with Katherine, he'd have to help raise Lincoln's son. He could handle that, but would Lincoln be cool with it?

“Like that? You'd run over her?” he said. “What you're saying doesn't make sense. Why would you do that?”

“Yes, exactly like that,” Katherine said, untying the scarf around her neck.

“Damn! What happened to you?”

“Mona Lisa happened, that's what. That crazy woman strangled me.”

He shook his head. One of the things he loved about Mona was she had backbone. Steven doubted Katherine fought back while Mona choked her. But when were they close enough for all that to happen?

“You might have to keep a scarf on for a few days until that heals. Otherwise, a lot of people are going to call into the station asking more questions than me.”

“I know. She did this on purpose. She's the most evil woman I know.”

“That makes two of us. But you can always sue her or have her arrested,” he said.

“No, my reputation is more important than Mona. She'll get hers.”

He still wanted to know where she saw Mona but would ask her later. Instead he asked, “Can I see the check she wrote you?”

Frowning, Katherine questioned, “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“About?”

“Never mind,” he said, not wanting to force the issue. He'd find another way to see the check. He was determined.

Katherine stopped at a red light, dug into her purse, handed him the check, then drove slowly when the light changed to green.

They'd be on the U.S. 80 for at least a half hour. Long enough for him to get to know her better. Best if she didn't learn too much about him, so he'd ask most of the questions.

Damn, so that's where she banks. Why didn't I figure that out? It is the only major bank in both Selma and Bakersfield.
“Can I keep this?”

“What?” Katherine slowed down, glanced at him for a second. “No, you cannot. I told you I'm paying off my car with that money.”

“Okay. Calm down, Miss Independent Woman. I'll double the amount. But I need to keep this check.”

“Double?”

“Double. And a date. Let me take you out,” he said, admiring the way her dress dipped between her thighs. When she glanced at him, his eyes darted toward hers.

“Double and a date. It's a deal. But business before pleasure. When can I get my check?”

“Tonight,” he said with a smile.

He wasn't sure how long it had been for her, but it had been way too long for him. If he were luckier, he'd get a date and get laid.