Deceit and Devotion

by RM Johnson

  “I’m sorry,” Abbey Kurt said, not seeming to care about a thing she’d just heard. “He’s unavailable.”

  The woman was fit, angular, and muscled, looking as though she worked out daily. But she was short, shorter than Daphanie. If she wouldn’t let Daphanie see Nate, Daphanie would force her way in.

  Daphanie made a move toward the woman.

  In two quick movements, Abbey brushed her jacket back to expose the Glock handgun on her hip, then wrapped her fist around it, ready to draw.

  Daphanie froze.

  “Miss Coleman, you’re threatening to trespass. I’m hired to protect this property. I would be within my rights to shoot you. Please leave.”

  Daphanie didn’t respond. She looked over Abbey’s shoulder, hoping she would get a glimpse of Nate. She stepped back, looked up at the windows.

  “Fine,” Daphanie said, feeling she could do nothing more.

  She headed back down the path toward her car but felt the strange need to turn, to take another look at the house. When she did, the woman was no longer in the doorway. Nate stood in her place. He glared at her, shaking his head slowly. “I told you you would have to pay,” she heard him say.

  51

  It was late, and Caleb was still cleaning Austin’s offices. He dragged the mop across the floor, but his mind wasn’t on his work. Caleb still couldn’t shake the image of that dead man’s head hanging limp on his chest.

  After he had been released, Caleb had jumped in his van and called Austin.

  “You all right?” Austin asked.

  “Yeah … I just … I—”

  “You’re not okay. What’s going on? Is it Jahlil?” Austin had said.

  “No, he’s fine.”

  Caleb thought of asking for the money right then. That was the reason he had called. But he had been living in Austin’s house for the past year, and at last count, Caleb was into his brother for at least twenty grand. It was a debt that had been accruing over a number of years. How would he look, begging for more money? He’d look like a loser.

  “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” Caleb lied, telling himself he’d try his best to come up with the money first, and if he couldn’t, Austin would be his last resort. “I just called to say I’ll be a little late coming into work tomorrow evening.”

  “That’s fine,” Austin said. “The mess will still be here.”

  Caleb spun around when he heard a noise behind him. His son had just walked in the front door of the office.

  It was Jahlil’s night to come in, but Caleb hadn’t expected the boy, given the beating he had taken and their last conversation.

  “Jahlil, I would’ve understood if you didn’t come in tonight,” Caleb called.

  Jahlil stood silent at the other end of the offices in the shadows. His face was hidden by his hood.

  Caleb set his mop against one of the office desks and took a couple of steps toward his son. “Hey, is everything all right? No one been messing with you at school again, have they?”

  Still, no response came from Jahlil.

  There was something definitely wrong. Caleb moved quickly over to the boy, taking Jahlil by his shoulders, and was shocked to see that his face was covered with tears. “Jahlil—”

  “He’s dead. He’s dead, Dad!” Jahlil said, throwing himself onto Caleb. Caleb hugged his son. He could feel the boy’s body trembling against his.

  It was approaching 11:30 p.m. when Blue opened the door and let Caleb into his apartment.

  Blue glanced down at his watch. “Did I forget we was supposed to be hanging out tonight? Gimme a second to finish this beer and we can roll.”

  “Naw, we weren’t supposed to hang out,” Caleb said, lowering himself into the tattered sofa. A forty-two-inch flat-screen stood on a cheap wooden stand, muted. A boxing match played silently. “You got another beer?”

  “Yeah,” Blue said, going to the fridge and grabbing Caleb a beer, then handing it over. Caleb drank more than half of it without stopping.

  “Dude, you gonna be drinking like that, we gonna have to go to the store.”

  “Kwan had me grabbed earlier today, man.”

  “What?”

  “Took me to his store, tied me up.”

  “They ain’t do nothing, did—”

  “Naw, not to me,” Caleb said, as if in a trance. “But they had some other dude tied up. Some dude who didn’t pay and tried to leave town.” Caleb looked up at Blue. “They killed him. They put a plastic bag over his head and suffocated him right in front of me. Said they’d do the same thing to me if I don’t pay.”

  “Fuck, man! You gonna be able to pay ’em, right?”

  “Contracts ain’t come through,” Caleb said, staring helplessly at nothing, his eyes glassed over.

  “Forget all this. Just ask Austin for the money.”

  “No,” Caleb said. “I already owe him too much, and I’m gonna need more than just what I owe Kwan.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Jahlil came to work all messed up, crying, saying someone was dead.”

  “Who’s dead? What’s the boy into?”

  “I don’t know,” Caleb said. “He wouldn’t tell me anything. Just kept saying he’s tired and things are messed up. All I know is I need to be back in that boy’s life. I need to be back at home. And I can’t go over there broke, telling Sonya to let me back. I need money. My family needs money. So I need to do a job. You said it’s an easy one, we won’t get caught, ’cause I can’t go back to jail, Blue.”

  “Naw, man. No risk. We all good.”

  “So can you call this man, or what?” Caleb said, impatient.

  “Yeah,” Blue said. “I’ll call him.”

  52

  Monica sat alone at Bijan’s, her head buzzing.

  Carrying around that disturbing news from Freddy Ford made her want to do nothing more than go home and roll up in a ball. But she honored her word by meeting Austin Harris for their date.

  On the drive over, Monica had told herself again not to worry about Freddy and the possibility of him going after the people he felt were responsible for his imprisonment. She forced herself to see things exactly how Lewis saw them. Freddy could make all the threats he wanted, but he couldn’t carry them out from behind the walls of a mental institution.

  After stepping in the restaurant, Monica was greeted by a very handsome Austin, who had been waiting at the bar wearing a brown suit with a crisp white-collared shirt. He stood, gave Monica a hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. He smelled good, and his strong chest felt even better as it pressed ever so slightly against her breasts.

  “I want to thank you for the flowers you sent,” Monica said. “They were beautiful.”

  “Not as beautiful as you are tonight.”

  “Smooth talker, smooth talker.” Monica laughed, waving a finger at him.

  They had a martini at the bar while they waited for their table.

  Monica asked how Daphanie’s case was progressing.

  “Not great. I don’t know if she’ll have many options,” Austin said. “And this jerk, Nate Kenny. You know, let’s not talk about this. I feel myself getting angry already.”

  “I completely understand,” Monica said.

  After they were seated, they shared a bottle of white wine with their seafood dinners.

  Monica found herself smiling for much of the date. She told herself to calm down, because she didn’t want to start feeling Austin Harris, then later find out he was a repeat of her last date.

  “So,” Monica ventured, still smiling, “what do you think about kids?”

  Austin’s face brightened. “They’re wonderful. I always wanted kids.”

  “Oh.”

  “And now that I have them,” Austin said, “I wish I could take them back. No, I’m joking. They’re great.”

  “Oh! So you already have children?”

  “Yeah. Two. Troy just turned sixteen and Bethany is away at college,” Austin said. “With their mother getting remarried a
few years back, I’ve been more distant with my kids than I should’ve. I’ve been a better father in the past, but I’m working on that.”

  “I’m sure you’re a great dad.” Monica smiled. “You planning on having any more?” Monica held her breath.

  “I’m fine with the kids I have,” Austin said. “Not to get ahead of myself, but if some way lightning strikes and we do end up together, I hope you’re okay with that.”

  Monica smiled. “I think so.”

  Outside, in front of the restaurant, Austin’s Mercedes had already been fetched by the valet. Austin waited with Monica for her car to be brought around.

  It was a beautiful night, and the two stood very close to one another.

  “Why are you smiling?” Austin asked.

  Monica found Austin to be a perfect gentleman. He pulled out her chair every time she sat, and stood each time she stood. His dinner conversation was interesting, funny, and just flirtatious enough to have Monica clamping her legs together under the table, wondering what the man would be like in bed. “For the same reason you’re smiling,” Monica said, smiling more, trying not to give away her thoughts.

  The valet stepped out of Monica’s Jaguar, and held the door open.

  “Well, I guess this is the end of a good night,” Austin said. “I know you gotta get up early for work tomorrow.”

  “I don’t. I own my own business. I go in when I want.”

  “So what does that mean?”

  “That means this isn’t the end of a good night,” Monica said, not imagining herself just yet butt naked, bent over Austin’s dresser, but loving the option of choosing that path if she wanted. “Not if we don’t want it to be.”

  “I don’t want it to be.”

  “Neither do I,” Monica said, the alcohol still giving her brain warm fuzzies.

  “Okay,” Austin said. “I was just on my way home, and—”

  “Let’s do that, then.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  Half an hour later, Monica sat on the edge of Austin’s bed wearing nothing but panties. Austin stood naked in front of her, his head thrown back, moaning as Monica stroked him.

  “Are you ready for me?” she asked, knowing he was by the stiffness of what she held in her hands.

  “Yes,” Austin breathed.

  “You have protection?”

  “Yes.”

  Monica took Austin’s hand and pulled him to bed. He climbed in and reached over toward the nightstand to grab a condom.

  Monica pushed her panties down off her hips, let them fall to the floor. She slid under the bed linen and tried to calm her desire.

  She had not had sex, not real sex, in over two months. Her body was telling her it was time.

  Austin lay next to her and kissed Monica’s lips. She pressed her body to his, pulled his tongue into her mouth, and relaxed as she felt him slide a gentle finger into her. Monica closed her thighs around his arm, kissing him harder. “I want you,” Monica panted.

  He continued to pleasure her with his hand, till the sensation became too much. She didn’t want to go this way. She reached down, pressed a hand on his arm, looked into his eyes, and said, “I want you.”

  “Okay,” Austin said, and Monica thought she detected the slightest bit of uncertainty.

  She opened her legs, closed her eyes, let her head fall to the side on the pillow, and breathed heavily as she felt Austin’s weight upon her.

  Then nothing.

  Monica opened her eyes just a little, looked up to see that he was still there. She reached down between her legs, felt for him, and he was as firm as he was a moment ago. “You okay?”

  Austin gave her a look filled with angst, rose off her, and lay down on his back. He pulled the sheet up to his chest, folded his hands on top of it, then said, “I don’t want to. Not like this.”

  “Huh?” Monica said, sitting up in bed.

  “What would we get out of this?”

  “I don’t know about you, but I was hoping for an orgasm.”

  Austin gave Monica a look that said he wasn’t joking.

  “Sorry, but what more are you looking for?” Monica said.

  “More than sex. I just came out of a relationship like that, and … and … I deserve better. I’m a good man. I think a better man than I’ve ever been, and I want to share that with a woman. I guess I’m looking for a relationship.”

  “Ohhh, Austin,” Monica said, plopping backward onto her pillow. She slapped her hands over her face. “You were perfect, and now you wanna screw it up with the R word. Say it ain’t so.”

  Austin rolled up on his elbow, pulled one of Monica’s hands away from her face. “I thought all women wanted a good relationship.”

  “Then I’m the one woman on earth that doesn’t. I just came out of a relationship, and there was absolutely nothing good about it.”

  “It was the wrong man.”

  “And the ‘good relationship’ before that one failed too.”

  “Again, another wrong man,” Austin said. “It could happen.”

  Monica leaned forward, laid a palm on Austin’s cheek. “I like you, so can we please not mess this up?”

  “Mess what up?”

  “The chance at a great … whatever we want this to be, with no talk of commitment and the future, and where we’re gonna vacation next year. I told you, I’ve done that, and it’s really nothing I’m interested in.”

  “Not even the chance of one?” Austin said. “You’re telling me there’s absolutely nothing I could do to make you interested in starting something with me.”

  “Well,” Monica said, her eyes dropping to the bulging imprint in the sheet below Austin’s waist.

  “You’re joking.”

  “Does it look like I’m joking?” Monica said with only a hint of a smile.

  “This is performance-based is what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, sir. Show me you can do the work and I’ll give you a shot at the job,” Monica said, turned on by the playfulness of all this.

  “Well, okay. This one time. But remember you asked for this,” Austin said. He leaned over and lowered himself down to kiss Monica. It was a long, passionate, sloppy kiss that had Monica’s eyes closing, nipples hardening, her body squirming, and her insides aching. He placed his palm low on her pelvis, the tip of his middle finger ever so slightly grazing her most sensitive spot, and continued to kiss her till she nearly exploded.

  Monica’s eyes slowly opened. She saw that he was kneeling between her legs, rolling on the condom.

  “Close your eyes,” Austin said.

  “What?”

  “I said close your eyes. You don’t have to see. All you have to do is feel.”

  Monica did what she was told. She felt Austin’s warm palms on her inner thighs, spreading them. She felt him kiss her belly, take one of her breasts in his mouth, then slowly, lovingly insert himself into her.

  She moaned deeply, thinking she would succumb and lose it that moment. But she held on, telling herself that if he was always as good as he was feeling that moment, she would be seeing a lot more of Austin Harris.

  53

  Lewis thought he had heard his name being called, but he was too far into his thoughts to pull himself out.

  “Lewis.” It was his girlfriend, Eva, shaking his arm.

  Lewis finally turned to her, blinking a couple of times as if he had just come out of a trance. Lewis’s daughter, Layla, and Eva’s daughter, Tammi, had both been put to bed, and Eva and Lewis were watching a Netflix movie that had come in the mail that morning.

  “What were you doing?” Eva asked.

  “Watching the movie,” Lewis lied.

  “Okay, what was the last thing Jeffrey Wright said?”

  Lewis had no clue. His mind was back at the restaurant where he had met Monica. For every minute, it seemed, after that meeting, Lewis had questioned just how concerned he should’ve been about Freddy’s threats. He wasn’t terribly bothered
, but the more he questioned those threats, the more concerned he became. “Jeffrey Wright just said … uh … that he was gonna whup up on dude if he didn’t give him the bag of money,” Lewis guessed.

  “Really, Lewis? That’s what he said? Wrong. Now you wanna tell me where your head was at? Where it’s been since you came home from work today?”

  His head was on wondering whether he should tell Eva about Freddy. Lewis had been pretty much honest with Eva so far. When they first met a few months before, he had told her he’d done a little time in jail, but he’d also said all of that was in his past. At the time, Eva appeared relieved, and she later told him she was happy he was no longer into any shady business, because she had a little girl to care for and wasn’t into making time for men whose stuff wasn’t together.

  Lewis kept telling himself he had nothing to fear from Freddy. But if the man did ever get out and happened to see Lewis and Eva walking down the street and approached them, shooting off his mouth about some craziness, Lewis figured Eva would appreciate having had a heads-up. But then again, telling her about Freddy might have her second guessing if being with Lewis was a good idea.

  “I’m thinking about tomorrow,” Lewis lied again. “Remember I told you about that man, Caleb Harris, I met at work?”

  “Yeah, the janitor.”

  “He asked if he could bring his son by after work tomorrow. I told him I would hang out with the kid. He’s into a little trouble, and I thought I might be able to reach him. I don’t know, make a difference somehow.”

  “Aw,” Eva said, leaning over the sofa, taking Lewis’s face in her hands, and giving him a kiss on the lips. “How was I so blessed to find a man as good as you?”

  “Lucky, I guess,” Lewis said.

  54

  Monica awakened to the sound of someone knocking on her front door.

  “All right,” she said, stretching. She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. She looked at the clock. It was 7:48 a.m.

  Shocked, she was happy and relieved that she had not been tormented by yet another Freddy Ford nightmare. Maybe speaking to the man had actually worked.