Don't Cry for Me

by Sharon Sala

  He picked up another rib and took a bite.

  “Did you doctor your knees and hands?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  “Just checking,” he said.

  She pointed to the corner of his mouth. “Sauce.”

  He grinned. “I was saving that for later, but since it bothers you…” He wiped his lips.

  Mariah laid down her fork and leaned back in her chair, watching him eat.

  When he realized she was staring, he stopped. “What? More sauce somewhere?”

  She shook her head. “No. I was just thinking about us, being here together like this. All those months overseas we made love like rabbits without really knowing each other. It’s only now that I’m finding out what you’re all about.”

  He didn’t know where she was going with this and wondered if he should be worried.

  “So what am I about?”

  “I’m thinking you are as good a person as you are good in bed. That’s not a bad combination.”

  He knew he had a silly grin on his face, but he couldn’t help it.

  Mariah picked up her fork and took another bite, chewing slowly, but now Quinn was watching her.

  “What?”

  “You want to know what I’m thinking?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, do I?”

  “You should, because I’m thinking how hard I’m falling for you…that and whether or not to tell you that I brought dessert.”

  Mariah felt hot all over. “If I wasn’t so damn sore, I would be stripping as we speak.”

  A muscle jerked at his jaw. “Now you tell me.”

  “What kind of dessert?” she asked.

  “Pie.”

  “I want some,” she said softly.

  He leaned forward. “I want some, too.”

  She smiled. “I’m talking about the pie.”

  “I’m not.”

  She put down her fork. “If you help get my clothes off, we can both have some.”

  “Pie?”

  She laughed. “No, you fool. Just get me in bed and we’ll let nature take its course.”

  He grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped the sauce off his face and hands, then carried her to the bed. He stopped to pull the T-shirt over her head and her pants down around her ankles. Her bruises were revealed as he laid her down, which made him frown.

  “This is crazy. I’m going to hurt you.”

  “I already hurt myself. I consider what’s about to happen good medicine.”

  He turned off the lights, leaving a single light burning in the utility room, then stripped and crawled in beside her.

  “I don’t know where to start. If I kiss you, it will hurt your lips. Your hands are a mess, and so are your knees.”

  She took his hand and laid it between her legs. “Start here and see what happens.”

  He laughed.

  Mariah closed her eyes and spread her legs. When his fingers slid between the folds of her sex and found the hard little nub, she sighed. This had been the day from hell, but it was going to end on one hell of a high.

  Quinn was rubbing her clit in a small circular motion, increasing pressure ever so slightly until there was a steady throb between her legs that matched the thunder of her heartbeat. Over and over, minute after minute, he kept up the motion, and then she felt his mouth on her breast. His tongue flicked across her nipple, increasing the ache growing in her belly. As always, he lit her fire so fast she was ready to burn. She reached for his shoulders, digging her fingers into the muscles.

  “Inside me, Quinn. I won’t do this without you.”

  He didn’t need a second invitation. He pushed her legs apart and slid in so fast Mariah lost her breath. When he began to move she wanted to move with him, but she was already coming and all she could do was hold on.

  Quinn felt the tremors of her oncoming climax surrounding him, squeezing him, blurring consciousness between the past and the present.

  The climax hit with a blow that splintered and washed throughout her. She gasped, then she moaned, and when Quinn let go of his seed, she cried.

  Weak, spent and utterly at peace, he eased off her, then rolled away. He was motionless, waiting to see if the weakness would pass, or if this would be the day he died. At that point, it was impossible to predict.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  Her voice was shaking as she blinked away tears. “Oh, my God, Quinn. If having sex with you could heal, I’d be the healthiest, sanest woman on the planet. I don’t know how you do it, but you do it so well.”

  “It isn’t what I do, it’s what we do that makes the magic. It’s us together, baby. It’s how God meant us to be. Just so you know, I’m waiting for the day when you believe in yourself enough to let go and trust what’s good between us.”

  Mariah sat up. Her dark eyes were brimming with tears, her swollen lip trembling.

  “I trust that my feelings for you are growing, Quinn Walker. But I need to be well to make plans that go beyond good sex, not the burden I still am.”

  He rolled over, then sat up to face her. “I hear you. I don’t agree, but I understand. I won’t keep pressuring you, but just so you know, I won’t let you go.”

  Mariah reached for his hand. “For now, that’s all the promise I need.”

  He eyed her closely, loving her even more at that moment for the honesty and bravery with which she chose to live.

  “So, are you telling me you don’t need any pie?” he asked to lighten the moment.

  She grinned. “Uh, no, I didn’t say a word about turning down pie. Hand me my clothes, crazy man.”

  He gathered them up and tossed them toward her. As soon as she scooted into her panties, he helped her with the sweats.

  “The T-shirt, too, please,” she said.

  He hesitated, eyeing her with admiration.

  “Are you sure? I always wanted to eat pie with a half-naked woman.”

  “Damn it, Quinn, my shirt.”

  He tossed it to her. “Such a pity.”

  She was laughing as she pulled it over her head, then held up her arms.

  “You brought me here, so if you don’t mind, would you take me back where you found me?”

  “You don’t mean Fort Campbell?”

  She punched his arm. “You don’t get rid of me that easy. To the kitchen, pie man. I’m suddenly very hungry.”

  Quinn lifted her up into his arms, then paused. For a moment they were so close they could see their own reflections in each other’s eyes.

  Mariah leaned forward and very carefully kissed the smile on his lips.

  “Pie?”

  He nodded. “Pie.”

  * * *

  It was payday at the mine. Lonnie arrived in a chopper and got out carrying a briefcase.

  Buell hadn’t known he was coming, which made him uneasy. He didn’t like surprises. He watched his brother-in-law swagger as he came toward the office and just for a moment thought about what it would be like to be that rich and powerful.

  He had been working his own little racket before this came along but had slacked off since he’d started working for Lonnie. He’d quit taking new orders. He had only a couple of old ones to fill and then he would be done. This gig raising mushrooms was easier and, in the end, more lucrative. But he did like being his own boss. He would miss that part of it for sure.

  Then Lonnie reached the entrance. “Buell. I trust all is well?”

  “Of course. Your guy has been teaching the men how to propagate portobello spores. Do you really get eight to ten dollars a pound for them big caps?”

  Lonnie nodded. “Even more in some areas of the country. People are willing to pay big for organic produce.”

  “Damn. Who would’a thought a fungus would bring that kind of dough?”

  Lonnie eyed Buell, wondering what he would think if he knew how much a pound he was going to get for the coke. He was still on the fence about how the men would react, but he couldn’t hesitate much longer. According to his chemist
s, they were ready. The first load of coke was due in tonight. Now all he needed was to choose a crew.

  “I brought the payroll,” Lonnie said, and strode into the little office he’d had built just inside the entrance. “Do you have their hours figured up?”

  “Yeah. Portia did it for me last night. I ain’t real good with figures, but here it is.”

  Lonnie frowned as he read the list, but he let it go. Portia was smart enough. Figuring payroll was simply a matter of hours. There would be nothing on paper to indicate what work the men were getting paid for, and he didn’t want her getting nosey and asking questions.

  “Is everyone here?” Lonnie asked.

  “Yeah, they’re inside the nursery. That’s what your expert calls it.”

  “Go get them.”

  Buell hurried away, returning quickly with the men.

  Seeing Lonnie made them antsy. He was a hard taskmaster, but they wanted to keep their jobs. When he opened the briefcase, the sight of all that cash put a smile on their faces. When he began to dole it out, their smiles got even wider.

  As soon as he was finished, he eyed them carefully. This was make or break time.

  “So, we’ve been in operation a bit over a week now. I have a proposition to offer you, but it involves being willing and able to keep your mouth shut. You’ll get double the money you’re getting now and work in two shifts. Some of you at night, the rest of you during the day.”

  The men shifted nervously. They knew Lonnie Farrell’s reputation, and they’d all talked among themselves more than once about him being on the up-and-up. But double the money was hard to turn down.

  They looked at each other, then back at Lonnie, waiting to see what he said, but he wasn’t talking—just watching them.

  Finally one of them spoke up.

  “Doing what?”

  “If you’re interested, tell me now. If you want no part of this, you’re welcome to stay on the day shift in the mushroom nursery for the same money and no hard feelings. But know this. If you repeat one word of what I’m telling you, remember…I know where you live. Do you understand me?”

  Buell’s heart was hammering so hard he could barely breathe. He felt guilty for getting these men into this and, at the same time, excited about the prospect of more money.

  Then the same man spoke again.

  “Double pay you said? That would make us drawin’ a hundred dollars a day.”

  Lonnie smiled. “A hundred dollars a day cash money.”

  He could see them calculating…five hundred dollars a week, which was good money up here. Lonnie needed loyalty, and money bought silence better than anything else he’d ever tried.

  “I need a decision now. The men who want in on the big money, stand by Buell. The rest of you stay where you are.”

  A few seconds passed, and then, one by one, every one of them walked toward Buell.

  “Perfect,” Lonnie said, and then smiled. “Follow me.”

  Although they were surprised when he headed across the cavern in the opposite direction, they followed. And when they turned a corner and saw Lonnie unlocking a heavy metal door, they knew in the pits of their stomachs there was no turning back.

  One of the chemists was standing beside a long metal folding table, but there were a dozen more scattered around the room, with folding chairs and small scales at every one. Expensive lab equipment only added to the overall incongruity of a room like this existing inside a mountain. The white jumpsuits draped across the back of every chair and stacks of disposable face masks hinted at drugs, but he had yet to say the magic word.

  What sealed the deal was the large plastic-wrapped package the chemist was holding. He pierced it with a knife and poured a small mound of white powder into his hand.

  “Gentlemen, what that man is holding is a brick of pure Mexican cocaine. The purpose of this lab is to cut it and bag it for distribution. The chemists will be doing the cutting to insure that the product we put out is high quality. No crap. I want repeat customers. The surest way to get that is a reliable product. Your job will be on the weighing and bagging side.”

  Their eyes widened and their mouths dropped.

  Lonnie took in their reactions, which ranged from shock to fear. Now was the time to make sure they still wanted in.

  “If this isn’t what you want, the other deal still holds. You can go straight back to the nursery and no hard feelings. I’ll still need help in there anyway, so at one time or another, you’ll all rotate in and out. But your silence is not an option. It is what will keep you and your family alive. Do we understand each other?”

  They nodded without speaking.

  “Anyone want out?”

  Four men held up their hands.

  Lonnie was disappointed he didn’t have a clean sweep, but he still had a good crew.

  “Come on up. No hard feelings,” he said, and smiled as he shook their hands. “You four head back to the nursery. You’ll come to work every morning like you’ve been doing, and go home the same time every evening at the same pay.”

  They ducked their heads and scurried out, looking back every few seconds just to make sure there was no gun at their backs.

  Lonnie turned to the others. “Pay attention to the man,” he said, pointing to the chemist. “He’s going to show you what to do. Buell, divide up the men into two shifts. Take names of who’ll be on days and who’ll be on nights. After a month, if need be, we’ll rotate. But if those hours suit you men and you want to stay on that schedule, you’re welcome to keep it.”

  Buell nodded, still unable to meet the men’s gazes. “I’ll go get a pad and a pen. Be right back,” he said, and scurried out.

  He was so pissed he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t above breaking a law now and then, but this was serious business. People got killed doing this. He had Portia and the kids to think of. They could never suspect what was going on. He thought of the big speech he’d given Marvin when he’d turned thirteen about staying away from drugs. Hell. What a hypocrite he was turning out to be.

  Goddamn Gertie and Goddamn Lonnie. It was her fault for birthing Lonnie, and Lonnie’s fault for turning into such a bastard.

  He grabbed the pad of paper and a pen, and headed back into the lab. The sooner he got this over with, the better.

  Lonnie stayed until the men had been divided into two crews, then added one more warning.

  “Just so you know, don’t try to steal from me. If you think you can sneak any of this out for your own personal use, you have another think coming. You will notice that those jumpsuits have no pockets. What you don’t know, but what I’m telling you now, is that every one of you will strip at the main door when you come on shift and put on the uniform. You will take it off when you leave and put your own clothes back on. At no time will you be allowed near these tables unless you’re properly dressed for work. Do you understand why?”

  “So no one can sneak drugs out in a pocket,” Buell muttered.

  Lonnie frowned. He sensed attitude in Buell, which he would deal with later.

  “That’s correct. Basically I’m just removing temptation. You will all thank me later.” He looked around the room, meeting each man’s eyes.

  “Gentlemen, I leave you to your lessons. If we work together, all of us will get wealthy. If you renege on our deal, someone will die. Do we understand each other?”

  They nodded.

  He wasn’t satisfied. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” he said.

  They all answered quickly and loudly. He smiled. “Perfect. Thank you for your understanding.”

  Then he pointed at Buell. “Walk with me to the chopper.”

  Buell followed Lonnie out and then all the way back to the office before Lonnie stopped.

  “Spit it out. Say what’s on your mind, and say it now.”

  “I don’t like being made a fool,” Buell said.

  Lonnie frowned. “How have I done that?”

  “You lied to me just as much as you lied to them.
We was all tricked, and now we’re caught up in something maybe we wished hadn’t happened.”

  Lonnie was startled. He never would have imagined that Buell, fat-ass slob that he was, had an ounce of morality in him.

  “You want out?”

  Buell shrugged. “There’s no way I can quit now without Portia or Gertie being suspicious, which is exactly what can’t happen, but I got kids, and I don’t want any one of them hooked on no damn drugs.”

  “Then you have an even bigger reason to make sure this stays a secret, don’t you?”

  Buell turned red in the face.

  “Look, Buell, you’re not thinking this through,” Lonnie said. “None of this is being distributed for sale around here. It’s all going out of state to the big cities. There are pipelines for this stuff running from the East Coast to the West Coast—from Mexico to Canada. I just want my share of the billions of dollars being made in the industry, that’s all.”

  Buell frowned. He hadn’t thought of it that way. He still didn’t like being tricked, but this made him feel better.

  “I guess.”

  Lonnie clapped him on the back. “And I apologize, brother. I should have explained. Feel free to reassure the men if any of them say anything to you. Otherwise, rest assured that I will slit their damn throats if they talk.”

  Gorge rose in the back of Buell’s throat. Lonnie was still smiling, even as he made the threat. Buell couldn’t manage anything but a nod.

  “Make sure the crews stay on task. The first load of coke is coming in tonight, so I want the men to start cutting it right away. Another chopper’s coming in less than forty-eight hours to take it north for distribution.”

  Buell was startled. “How much do we have to get done?”

  “All of it. So make sure it’s finished. We’re not talking about six-dollars-a-pound mushrooms anymore. We’re talking about millions of dollars in just a few months. Understand?”

  Buell was sick to his stomach. His little side business had been shady, but this was over the top—deadly, and there was no going back.

  “Yeah. I understand plenty.”

  Lonnie frowned. “Just because you’re married to my sister, you don’t get a free pass. I can just as easily make her a widow if the need arises.”