by Evelyn Glass
A guard put the phone back to his ear. "Lou! All right! How much? How much?"
"You piece of fucking filth," Lou's voice said, "There is no amount. None. You do this to my friend, Nicole, and expect to pay for it? No! You're fucking dead! Because if that Cole fellow doesn't kill you on sight, I'm going to spend from now until tomorrow morning killing you with more pain than the gods could stand! Good-bye, you fucking piece of shit!" The connection broke.
Stunned, Gabriel looked at the men and screamed, "No! Lou! She's just a fucking whore!"
Dragging him by his cuffed arms, they took him out of his office and then down the elevator to the lobby of the house. He struggled and thrashed wildly, trying to escape and didn't stop until he was completely exhausted, and put on his knees in the lobby by the front door.
Firefights broke out throughout the house. Gabriel assumed that it was his own men either attempting to help him or attempting to escape, themselves. The volleys were short, though, and the silence after each of them, telling.
He searched frantically for an answer, a means of escape. This was wrong, all wrong. This couldn't happen to him. Not over a fucking whore.
Then the thunder of Harley engines came down the drive.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Cole and the Horsemen rode through the open gate heedless of the guards around them who made no attempts to get in their way. The four of them came up to the front door, dismounted, and drew their weapons with deftness and purpose. Once through the door, Cole saw three of the suited guards ahead of him with a man kneeling and cuffed between them. "Is that Gabriel?" he asked as he approached the suits.
"Yes," one of the guards replied.
Cole shot Gabriel in the head, the bullet velocity pulling the corpse from the guard’s hands who simply let Gabriel fall and crumble.
"Where is Nicole?" Cole asked the suit without giving Gabriel another thought.
"Second floor, pink door," the guard answered calmly, un-phased by Cole's actions. "I'll radio ahead so they know you are coming. We're trying to find her some clothing."
"Thank you," Cole nodded and holstered his gun. The other bikers did the same and followed him as he ran up the stairs and down the walk toward the pink door.
Two guards were outside and made no motion to hinder his approach as he went by and into the room. Inside, he found two more attempting to get Nicole into a long t-shirt. Cole moved forward, brushed the guards aside, fixed the shirt, and swooped her up into his arms, turned with her and headed for the doors. "Can you hear me, Nicole?" he asked. "Stay with me, baby. We're going for the hospital."
"Cole? Cole? He hurt me, Cole."
"I know, baby, but he'll never do it again. I promise you."
As he came down the stairs with Nicole in his arms with Jim, Rat, and Brian at his back, he heard a voice with an Italian accent saying, "Just fucking shot him, eh? I like that. No words, nothing. Just bang. Maybe he's all right for my Nicole, after all. Yeah, just maybe."
When he came into the lobby, there was Lou whose smile shattered when he saw Nicole. "Ah, Jesus Christ, no," and the depth of his sadness was moving, even to Cole's ears. Lou shifted his eyes to Cole and said, "The doctors are waiting for you, Cole. Max's limo will be the fastest. I can have one of my guys get your bike back to the bar."
"Fine," Cole said, "Keys are in the bike. Give them to the bartender." He brushed passed the mobster and out of the house, his long legs cutting across the walk to the waiting limo.
***
The doctors were waiting, not just nurses or staff, but the actual doctors were waiting by the door when Cole carried her into the hospital. They guided him to lay her on a gurney and then swept her away into the emergency treatment area. One of the nursing staff came to him, asking him to let them do their job.
"What can they do?" Cole asked.
"They'll most likely begin with giving her naloxone, which is very effective in countering heroin and other opiates, but first, they may take the time to ensure that's all she has in her system. We were told that this was done to her, not something she accidentally did herself. Do you know if she uses any other drugs? Does she party at all?"
"She drinks and I know of at least once time she did crystal, but very rarely. Drinks beer, mostly. Some shots, but never more than five."
"How long has she been like this?"
"Ah, a little longer than I day? I would guess? But I don't know the doses or how many," Cole admitted.
"That's fine. Please wait in the visitor room and I’ll be back out to tell you any changes or news. All right? I've been dedicated to her treatment, so I'll be able to pass you news as it happens."
"Good and thank you," Cole said.
The nurse then leaned closer and whispered to him, "You might want to put the gun in your car. Cops come in and out of here quite often."
He gave her a grin, "Thanks. I'll do that."
Max was already in the waiting room. Cole gave him the run down about the naloxone treatment and then walked out to the limo to shuck his gun and told his fellow brothers the news, as well. "You guys don't have to stay. I'll call you with any news. She could be home tomorrow," Cole told them.
"Angie is going to want to be assured, again, that this isn't her fault, so I should head home," Rat agreed. "But you have to come over soon and back me up on that, because she isn't believing me much."
"I'll hang for a while," Jim told him, "Then go back to the club and make sure your bike is settled inside for the night. I'll come by with your keys later on."
Brian looked at him, "I got nothing better to do, bro, so I'm with you."
"You licensed to carry inside hospitals?" Cole asked with a grin.
"Yes, but I'll leave them out here anyway," Brian replied seriously. "I don't want to make people nervous who are already in pain."
Cole nodded and they walked together into the lobby and sat down.
CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
It was near three in the morning when Nicole opened her eyes and focused on a familiar silhouette in the doorway, watching over her. "Captain?" she asked softly.
"Oh, shit," Lou whispered quietly, "Sorry, baby. I didn't mean to wake you."
"Did you come for me?"
"Well, your man did, that young fellow, Cole, and he let me tag along," Lou told her, stepping a little closer with his hat in his hand.
She thought about that, "I think I remember that. I think I remember him carrying me."
"That's good; that's real good. Recall is a good sign," Lou said, keeping his voice low, stepping a little closer.
"My brain isn't right, though, Captain. I can feel it isn't right. Is this how it is going to be now? Like this?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
"No, no, baby, this is only a few hours after treatment. They're going to get you back to yourself. You're going to be all right and clear as summer," Lou assured her.
Nicole nodded her head and tried to believe him.
Lou came farther in and sat on the edge of her bed. "So, so you and Cole. You serious about him? Cause he's very serious about you. Gabriel -- may he rot in hell -- could tell you just how serious he is."
She studied Lou's eyes and saw that this really was Captain talking to her, then she nodded. "I think I was serious our first date. It was…"
Lou waited for a moment, and then urged her with, "Go on. I would like to hear it."
"I'm just trying to figure out how to describe it, Captain. We connected in this really strong way. I don't mean like just having feelings for each other, but… rather… having each other's feelings. I could feel what he was feeling so strongly they were like my own, but felt more distant than mine. And we knew things about each other that neither of us could possibly know. And we felt, saw, and envisioned what we were going to be to each other in ten years. It was so real, so amazingly real, and wonderful. But it kind of scares me."
Lou looked down at the hat in his hand and rolled it slowly with the brim, as if deep in thought and then with a nodding o
f his head he said, "That's … well that's how it was with me and Ciri. It's very strange, after all these years, to hear someone else describe what we went through. All these years, and…huh. Strange."
"Seriously?" she asked, her eyes wide.
Lou nodded, giving her a glance and then looking at his hat, turning the brim, "It scared us to death; it really did, because you know, we were both raised in old Catholic families and things like this…these connections… they just weren't natural. Like when we were on our fifth day together, she was very upset with me for lying to her about getting hurt.
"She says, 'I know you are lying, Louis Donadio, because you are doing that thing with your cheek and you always do that thing with your cheek. For years, I see you do this thing and every time, it is a lie coming out of your lips.' And I have to tell you -- one, she was right. I was doing that thing with my cheek and I was lying. But two, that was only our fifth day together, not years together, and she was talking to me like it was our seventh anniversary or something. Like she knew all kinds of things about me.
"Then, I suddenly knew things about her. I knew how she ate her food and that she didn't like marinara sauce ‘cause it was too sweet. She liked to sit in the front of the movie house, not the back. I knew she was so afraid of spiders she would rather burn down the house to get rid of one than to come close enough to squash it with a napkin. But what really threw me is I knew how she liked it in bed and, baby, we were still virgins at that time."
Nicole had risen and sat up as he was talking, "Exactly; that is it exactly."
"Now," Lou smiled wanly, "Now you're going to ask me what it is, or where it comes from. But I have been asking that myself since that fifth day with Ciri and I have never gotten an answer. Not one. I've spent a great deal of money looking for that answer, too, but not even a glimmer."
"Does it still happen?" Nicole asked.
Lou smiled and played with his hat some more, "Yes and no. I'm sure it is the same thing. It has that strong sense of double reality to it, like you are living twice at once. Like there are four people there and not just two.
"But now…it is like strong reminders of who we were back then. I'll kiss her and suddenly it is twenty years ago, twenty-five years ago, even thirty years ago, and she's still so young and firm, and we are just married and no kids, and so passionate about each other that we can hardly stand not to be touching. And I remember things like what chocolates she enjoyed and how she used to make these little napkin things for Easter, and that she really likes purple daisies and all these little things about her that made her happy and gave her joy.
"Some of these things I didn't notice back then, but when they pop into my memory, I can look back and I see that, yeah, she did do that, or she did like that. So, I've been getting her these little things and she's been doing it, too. And it's like we are …" he shrugged. "I don't know. I don't have the words. What's deeper than falling in love again?"
Nicole leaned her head against his shoulder, "I don't know, but it sounds good."
"It is good. It really is. And it's good to share that with someone, especially you, ‘cause you are like the star for new beginnings. You guide ships out of the fog and it has been a serious pleasure to know you."
"No more model building with us and no more row row, either. Are you sad?"
"Yes, because I'm a naturally selfish man; just ask Ciri; she'll tell you all about it. But only because of my selfishness am I sad. When I get my head out of my own ass, I'm very, very happy for you. And, when he finally gets around to it, I wouldn't mind getting an invitation to the wedding," Lou told her.
"I'll hand deliver it," she smiled.
CHAPTER FIFTY
It was late the next afternoon and she finally was able to convince Cole to go home and get some sleep. Alone, Nicole looked up at the ceiling and realized that what Lou told her last night might be coming true. She was beginning to think clearer. Not clear, or sharp, but not the hindered fuzz and slow recall of last night. "At least, at this point, I could live with this. If this is as good as it gets, I can accept this." A polite knock on the doorframe drew her attention and there was a beautiful redhead woman, who Nicole had never met before. "Yes?"
"Hi, Nicole; we've never met. I'm Max's assistant, Cathy. May…may I talk to you for a few moments?" she asked, trying to sound polite, but Nicole also felt that it was important to this woman, Cathy.
"Yes, sure. How can I help you?"
"Well, first of all this might not be the time, how are you feeling? I mean, after what you went through--"
"Please, Cathy. I'm fine. You feel nervous and it feels like a nervousness about something you want, something important to you. So, talk to me and if I can, I'll help, all right?"
Cathy nodded and her body language smoothed into something Nicole almost envied. Cathy was now an executive level power-woman and not the bundle of nerves she was at the doorway. "Wow, I wish I could do that," Nicole said with a smile.
"What?"
"That, what you just did. You're so… powerful now. Like you could just say 'do this' and most people would be doing it before they realized they didn't know who you were."
Cathy studied her and then laughed, "Really? Max makes me feel like that sometimes. He's just so…"
"Commanding. Like you just believe he knows what he's doing so you want to follow, because you're so sure it will be safe."
Cathy nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The nice thing is, he normally does know what he is doing."
"So, what can I help you with?" she asked.
Cathy studied her and said, "You know, in just the last few minutes, I'm … maybe you just are natural and can't ‘cause you don't know. But… sorry… anyway, I've been with Max since before his wife died. I was with them when she passed and then with him in New York and all points in between. The core of us, his personal staff, who travel with him – Bill, James, Sally, and myself – we could see…we could see he wasn't Max anymore. He died with her. He loved her so much that he just died with her." Cathy looked at her hands, "I tried everything. We all did. I even tried sleeping with him. I don't think Sally ever did, but, well, I love Max and seeing him like that was really hard. But even sleeping with him didn't help."
She looked at Nicole, "And then he spent two days with you. Well, three I guess, but he came back walking like a real man again. I was so happy that I could have screamed and hugged him in public. I swear. It was so hard not to break out the wine glasses and dance on the plane as we flew to Portland. Anyway, you've been really good for him, but now you're retiring, obviously. I don't want him to slip back. So, I was wondering if, if what you did could be taught? And if it could, would you teach me?"
Nicole thought about that, "Most of what I did, I taught myself. I don't think any of it was natural to me. I may have some natural empathy or something like that, but what I did was very specific and based on sound studies about sex and psychology, and my bubble theory. I haven't run across anything yet that matches my bubble theory. I built it from several schools of thought by taking one piece from one and another piece from another, so it's not wholly mine. But to answer your question, yes. I think it can be taught. I don't know if I'm skilled enough to teach it, but it can be learned. I know that because I learned it. And yes, definitely, especially for Max, I would try my best to teach you."
"My schedule is fairly tight --" Cathy began.
"Mine isn't. And there is Skype and email," Nicole offered. "It might be good for me to really sit down and go through it, to write it out, to focus that kind of energy into it."
"I want to pay you for this. We pay our own way and there's nothing more valuable than knowledge, especially knowledge from experience that works." Cathy told her. "So, let's work that out, too. All right?"
"Max means a great deal to me; it feels odd, but all right, because I know he would demand to pay me, as well. I'm guessing we're going to be hush-hush about this until you are confident in your skills."
"I think that would be
wise, don't you?" Cathy asked.
"I never, ever, let them see the woman behind the curtain. It wouldn't, and I really believe this, wouldn't help them to know what is going on, and having them know would only make it harder to pop the bubble."
"You've used that term several times now, bubble. Can you explain that much to me today?" Cathy asked.
"Sure," Nicole said and sat up and began teaching Cathy about wealthy, powerful men. A subject that Cathy, until this moment, really believed she had a clear understanding of.
Two hours later, Cathy was taking notes and slightly flabbergasted, "I have to say that this isn't what I expected to be learning today. I mean, you were a call girl, so I expected to be taught -- "