“Yes. Somehow he’s circumventing that.”
“Do you know this guy?”
She shook her head. “No. I don’t have a clue. Neal, I just need a gun for a day or two.”
“I wish I could help you.” Perry crossed to him and palmed his crotch. “I don’t know a gun.”
“I felt something last night,” she said, dropping to her knees. “Something irresistible.” She unzipped his pants. “Something strong…penetrating…I was hoping you felt it too.” She stroked his member.
“I-I-I did.” He was already there, as he felt a few hours before: hard and anxious.
“I ached for you last night, Neal.” She rubbed his sex against her face. “I’ve never ached for a man before. Never hungered for a man.”
Do it, Neal pleaded to himself. Just shut up and do it!
She kissed it quickly, suddenly let go and stood up.
Aw hell! Here we go again!
“Lay the mattress down,” Perry instructed.
Neal considered saying, “Forget it, sister. You’re playing too many games. I keep messing with you I’ll end up in the hospital with titanic testicles.”
Instead he said nothing as he laid the mattress down.
“Take your clothes off and lie down,” Perry said.
He didn’t care much for her paternal tone, yet did as instructed. In a heartbeat he was undressed, lying on the mattress, looking anxiously up at her.
Perry took her time, first removing a green silk shirt, next a green leather skirt, and then green pumps. She stood over him, smiling mischievously, and then removed teal-green panties.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
Neal stared at his erection…up at her. “Arrrggh!”
Perry lay beside him and started kissing his chest, working her way south.
“Don’t stop,” Neal said as she was kissing his stomach. “Please!”
The last moment, the time to put up or shut up, she got up. “I need a gun, Neal. I can’t do anything till I get a gun. I’m sorry, I really need a gun.”
You’re killing me! “Let’s finish what we started. Then you and I’ll go buy a gun.”
Perry started putting on her clothes. “It’ll take too long. Background check.”
“I’ve got a switchblade. How ’bout that?”
She glared at him. “Don’t patronize me, Neal. I need a gun.”
“My ex has two guns…Hell, she’s not going to let me borrow one.”
“Just for a couple days, Neal. Please, baby, help me out here. Please!”
“I wish I could, really.”
Perry crossed to him and took hold again. “Please! Just for a day or two.”
“You’re not planning to shoot this guy, are you?”
“Neal, honestly, do I look like someone who could hurt somebody? I just need protection for a couple of days.”
And then, finally, she took him in her mouth.
All rational thought deserted Neal as his entire body quivered with pleasure. He went into shock, every muscle jerking, twitching involuntarily. Drool bubbled out of his mouth and coursed down his face.
His eyelids flitted like butterfly wings. A low, continuous whistle blew out of his nostrils. He remained that way long after Perry had stood up, gathered her shoes and quietly walked out.
* * * * *
A few hours later, Neal and Derrick were sitting in the living room at Tasha’s apartment, Derrick watching television, laughing at Bugs Bunny. Neal watching, too, but his mind elsewhere.
What if she shoots the guy? Neal thought. Tasha would kill me. ‘Honey, she gave me this bodacious blowjob and I promised her a gun, your gun. I didn’t think she’d shoot somebody--she told me she wouldn’t.’ That won’t cut it. Tasha would still get pissed. And probably want to fight…like last time. Hell, I better leave that damn gun alone!
A minute later he stood up, sat back down. “Damn!”
Derrick turned. “What’s the matter, Daddy?”
“Nothing.” Except I’m conflicted as hell. In one hand I have this fine, beautiful, rich woman who knows how to make my toes curl, and in the other my ex-wife, who knows how to kick my ass. Dammit to hell!
Maybe I’m blowing things out of proportion. A woman living alone needs a gun for protection if some creep keeps calling and threatening her. Tasha has two guns--she doesn’t need two. One of em her daddy gave her…Which one?
He looked at the large Mickey Mouse clock on the wall behind the television. Fifteen till five. Tasha would arrive home soon; if he was going to do it, he’d better do it now. He cleared his throat, got up, crossed casually to the hallway and tiptoed into his former bedroom. He locked the door. Derrick, he figured, probably wouldn’t snitch him out, yet he couldn’t risk it.
Moving quickly, he ran his hand along the top of the dresser, found the key, and then went to the red trunk at the foot of the bed. He unlocked it and took out the safe deposit box.
He knew the combination. He knew the guns were inside it. And he knew that once he opened it, there was no turning back.
His first and second attempt failed; he was moving too fast. Relax, okay. Nothing is going to go wrong. Relax.
On the third attempt the lock clicked. There inside were two guns, a 9mm Glock and a silver-plated 38 Midnight Special. Also a mace bottle and a Taser, which made him shudder.
Better take the nine, he thought. The thirty-eight looks expensive. If I don’t get it back I’ll have to pay for it.
He tucked the Glock under his shirt, inside his belt loop, locked everything up and returned the key.
Just as he was walking out, Tasha appeared in the doorway.
“What are you doing, Neal?”
“Uh…uh…” Think of something. “Taking a nap.”
Tasha stared at him. “You’re sure acting funny. Why you sweating?”
He wiped perspiration from his forehead with his hand. “It’s hot.”
“The air conditioner is working, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I think it is.”
Tasha stared past him into the bedroom. “I hope you’re not doing anything perverted in my room. If I find a grease spot, there’s going to be trouble.”
“Woman, please!”
Tasha stepped into the bedroom, stared at the bed, then at Neal. “You’re up to something,” running her hand across the bedspread. “I can feel it. Neal, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to leave your perversions in the garage, do I?”
He didn’t respond, frowning at her.
“Derrick?” Tasha shouted. Seconds later Derrick ran into the room. “What you want to eat?”
“Pizza,” Derrick quipped.
“No, not in my budget. How about you, Neal? What you want to eat?”
Neal shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me. I had a Sloppy Joe earlier.”
“Did you feed Derrick?”
“Uh…”
“Derrick, did your father feed you?”
Derrick glanced uneasily at his father. “He might have. I just don’t remember.”
Tasha stretched out across the bed. “When you guys decide you’re hungry, there’s leftover spaghetti in the refrigerator. I’m taking a nap.”
Derrick returned to the television. Neal slipped out the front door, without saying good-bye, not even to Derrick.
Chapter 15
Perry was working in her yard when Neal drove up and stepped out.
“You get it?” she asked.
He nodded.
Perry ran to him, hugged and kissed him, almost knocking him down.
“You’re one helluva man, Neal Montgomery! You got it from your ex, didn’t you?”
“Yes, I did. Make sure you give it back.”
Perry kissed him again, her tongue slithering inside his mouth.
“Come inside. I have something to show you.” She led him by the hand inside the house. “Have a seat and relax. I’ll take a quick shower and then I’ll show you my surprise.” She started to leave, stopped. “Give it to
me and I’ll put it up,” taking off her T-shirt.
Neal handed her the gun.
“I hate to touch guns unless I just have to.”
She left the room, smiling ear to ear, with the gun on the T-shirt held out in front as if she were presenting a gift to a king.
Her strange behavior refreshed Neal’s anxieties of giving her a gun.
Perry returned minutes later wearing a red-and-black satin robe, an elaborate dragon on the back and a red sun in front, carrying three boxes. “This is for you,” laying them at his feet.
“For me?”
“Yes. Open the big one first.” He did. Inside was a satin robe, identical to the one Perry had on.
“Thanks!” Inside the second box were a pair of ostrich-skinned boots, size ten. “Damn! How did you”--Perry kissed him--“know my size?”
“I saw a pair at your place, thought you’d like these.”
Neal put them on and strutted for her. “How I look?”
“Edible. Now open the last box.”
Neal took the box, the smallest, and started to open it when Perry grabbed his wrist.
“Neal, I don’t want to come on too strong, like I’m desperate for a man.” Looking into his eyes: “I care for you…a lot…I really do!”
Neal swallowed. “I care for you, too.”
“When I care for a man, I’ll do whatever it takes to make him happy, bend over forward and backward for him. As you see, I’m not a stingy, selfish woman. What’s mine is his, unequivocally. By the same token, I’m nobody’s fool. If I’m willing to sacrifice all I have, I expect the same from my man.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I make a lousy girlfriend, and I don’t accept bootie calls or hasty hookups. With me it’s all or nothing.” Pause. “Go ahead, baby, open it up.”
Inside the box was a smaller red-velvet jewelry box that contained a man’s diamond ring, a gold bracelet with Neal’s initials and a gold Rolex watch, his name engraved in back.
Neal felt like crying: he was that happy. Never in his life had someone--not his mother, father, ex-wife--realized his true substance, had understood that he, Neal Montgomery, was worthy of praise and worship.
He’d finally found someone who believed in him, someone who could correctly gauge his potential and translate it into monetary value.
“I love…” The word caught in his throat. “Thank you, Perry!”
Perry stood up. “Now,” she said, “the final gift, the most precious of all.” She undid the robe and let it slip to the floor. “Me!”
* * * * *
Not quite ten miles away, Tasha writhed fitfully in bed, in the throes of a nightmare.
She and Derrick were sitting in the front room, she, reading a Vibe magazine, Derrick watching cartoons.
Neal entered the room, a thick chain wrapped around his arm.
Tasha followed the chain to the neck of a huge rottweiler. “What is that?”
“A dog,” Neal said.
“No crap! I see that. What’s it doing here?”
“Her name is Pernicious,” Neal said. “She’s going to live with us. Ain’t she something?”
“Neal, we can’t have a dog in this apartment. Says so on the lease. You know I don’t like dogs and they don’t like me.”
“Honey, this girl is worth lots of money. She’ll give Derrick something to do. You’re always complaining he watches too much television. Now he can play with Pernicious.”
“Momma,” Derrick said, “can we keep her? Please?”
“No!”
Neal patted the dog on its large head. “She’s a rottweiler. Pure breed. I met her parents. Tasha, honey, did you know rottweilers, in medieval times, were used as guard dogs?”
“Neal, I don’t care if it flew in from Neptune, it’s not staying here. Take it out!”
Ignoring her, Neal released the chain.
Free to roam, the dog trotted into the kitchen and sat down, as if it were waiting for dinner.
“Neal,” she shouted, “you’re not listening, are you? I said take it out. Now!”
“Tasha, honey, sweetie pie, we can get rich selling her puppies.”
She snatched up a fly swatter and opened the front door. “Get out!” approaching the dog.
It just sat there, looking foolish, panting, dripping slobber on her floor. Enormous teeth. She smacked it--WHAP!--squarely on its face. With a yelp it got up quickly and sought cover under the kitchen table.
Tasha pulled back a chair and smacked its rump. WHAP! The dog howled. She smacked it again…and again. WHAP! WHAP! It ran to the far wall, realized it was trapped, and made a beeline for the front door.
She ran after it and smacked it again for good measure--WHAP!--just as it was going out.
“Good riddance!” slamming the door.
Derrick started crying and ran to his room.
“Look what you did,” Neal said. “You’re a mean woman! Mean!”
“Keep talking, Neal, and you’re next.”
The doorbell rang and Derrick reappeared at the door, turning the knob….
“Ask who is it first,” Tasha said.
Derrick opened the door…The dog stood there. It looked different. Eyes fiery red, glimmering. Brown and black coat shinier than before. Teeth much larger and sharper looking.
What’s that bubbling out its mouth? Soap suds?
Those fiery red eyes locked on Tasha…and then it growled.
Rabies!
“Close the door, Derrick!” Tasha shouted. Too late. The dog ran inside. “Get it, Neal!”
Neal dove and grabbed it. The two rolled across the floor, ending with Neal on bottom, his hand inside the dog’s mouth.
Neal yelled and yanked his hand free, blood squirting, three fingers gone.
“Get it, Neal!” He wasn’t listening, staring at his injured hand. “Worry about that later, Neal. Get it outta here!”
The dog barked, and Tasha froze. It sounded like a bark, and it sounded like her name. The dog jumped onto the couch, matching her height, and barked again. This time she was sure of it: Its barking my name!
She hurdled Neal and ran toward the bedroom. The dog gave chase. In the hallway, it head-butted her bottom, knocking her down. Tasha rolled onto her back and started kicking at it, aiming for its face.
Get back! Get back!
Big mistake: the dog caught her loafer with its enormous teeth and started shaking its head this way and that, tossing Tasha in every direction, growling her name, flinging slobber.
Dear God, a rabid dog has my foot in its mouth!
The thought of several serum shots in her stomach drove her to fight back with all she had, kicking madly with her free foot while scooting her way into the bedroom.
A rabid dog has my foot in its mouth!
She kicked it in the eye and it released her foot. Yes!
She kicked the door closed and the dog rammed into it, so hard she was surprised it didn’t come crashing down.
One minute, okay? Give me one minute!
She hopped to her feet, snatched the key from atop the dresser, slid to a stop in front of the foot locker…The dog slammed into the door again.
One minute!
Quickly, she opened the foot locker and dialed the combination on the metal case…Blam!…The dog tore through the door, ripping a large hole in the lower panel…Tasha flipped the lid open and suppressed a scream…The metal case was empty.
What the…!
She turned to see the dog midair, teeth first, diving toward her…
“Momma? Momma? Momma!”
Tasha looked up into Derrick’s eyes; he looked frightened. “What’s wrong?”
“You were screaming.”
“Was I?”
“Yup. Loud, too. You were having a bad dream, weren’t you, Momma?”
She laughed uneasily. “I guess I was.”
“Daddy said you can control bad dreams if you concentrate.”
“Where is he?”
> “He left. He told me bad dreams are part of my imagination.”
“Really?”
“Yup.”
“May I have a hug?”
Derrick frowned. “Aw Momma, two in one week.”
Tasha pulled him to her and hugged him. “Derrick,” releasing him, “do you think I’m mean?”
Derrick studied the floor before looking up at her. “Honestly?”
Tasha braced herself. “Honestly.”
“Sometimes. When you tell Daddy to get out you hurt his feelings. Mine, too.”
A long moment, she simply stared at her son, not sure how to respond. “I guess I could work on that a bit.”
“Momma, did you know Daddy can talk like Daffy Duck?”
“Hey, why don’t we go to the pet store and buy you an aquarium and fish to put in it?”
“A pet!”
“Yes,” Tasha said. “Every boy needs a pet. A pet goldfish.”
Chapter 16
Perry taped a fifty-dollar bill onto the mirror, along with a note that said she had to leave to take care of business. Neal was on the floor, beside the bed, in a deep sleep, in the same spot where a few hours before Perry had straddled him until he’d screamed, “I can’t take it anymore!”
The man was exhausted. She, however, could not afford to lie around all day; she had things to do. She showered, put on an orange jogging suit and orange tennis shoes, and hit the road. In her Cadillac; she didn’t want to attract unnecessary attention.
Two hours later, she was in Dawson, Arkansas, her hometown. She drove directly to the home of Johnny Drew, her first cousin, whom everyone in Dawson called JD. Though Perry knew where Johnny lived, she had never once visited him.
Now she was knocking hard against the door of his double-wide trailer. A severely malnourished beagle with a large tick imbedded above its left eye crawled out from under the trailer and barked at her.
“What you want?” A man’s voice from within.
“Johnny Drew,” Perry said.
“You got the wrong house. Ain’t no Johnny Drew here!”
Perry knocked again. “JD, open the door! It’s me, your cousin Perry.”
The door opened. Johnny, sporting a dirty pair of Hanes, squinted at her suspiciously.
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