ZEKE’S BABY

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ZEKE’S BABY Page 30

by Evelyn Glass

“I can’t. This is Katrina’s home, my home. Grammy is all the family I have left and I can’t leave her, not like this. I’m sorry.”

  He looked at her, his manic energy fading. “So that’s how it is? I’m nothing but a fuck to you, nothing but a hard cock for you to use? You have no feelings for me at all?”

  She looked down, clasping her hands together, unable to meet his eyes. “I like you, Tony. You’re a good man and I enjoyed your company, but I never said I loved you.”

  “No, you didn’t,” he snapped. “You were just using me.”

  “Like you were using me.”

  “I wasn’t using you Stella. I love you and I have for the past year. I kept thinking you would come to love me, too, but I see that isn’t going to happen.”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  “Fine. I’m not waiting on you. I’m getting on with my life, and if you don’t want to be part of it, then I’ll find someone who will.”

  “Is there someone else?” he demanded.

  “Yes. Maybe.”

  “Who?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “I think I deserve to know.”

  “Gabriel.”

  “Gabriel?” he cried. “The Gabriel that got you pregnant and left you? That Gabriel?”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her. “You’re going to back to that asshole? Why? I’m better than him! He doesn’t love you, not like I do! I would never hurt you like he did!”

  She looked up at him. “I’m really sorry, Tony. I really am, but I can’t give you what you want. I hope you find someone who can.”

  He glared at her a moment. “Yeah, same to ya,” he snapped, but she could tell he didn’t mean it. He stomped to the door and left without a backwards glance.

  She stood in the family room, staring at the door. She knew she should be upset, but she wasn’t, relieved it hadn’t gone any worse. She’d wanted to wait as long as possible before telling Tony they were done to give herself time to understand how she felt about Gabriel, but he’d forced the subject and made her to choose.

  She relocked the door then returned to her bedroom, peeking into Katrina’s room as she passed to see if Tony had awoken her. Tony was a good looking guy and very sweet and understanding. He would have no problem finding someone once he let go of his hope for her.

  She tumbled back into bed and smiled into the darkness. She should be upset Tony had walked out of her life, and she should be concerned if things fell apart with Gabriel, she’dd have no one. But she wasn’t. It was almost as if removing the safety net of Tony helped crystalize her thoughts about Gabriel. She should be terrified, but she wasn’t. With a deep sigh, she rolled over and pulled the pillow Gabriel has slept on the night before to her face, his slight lingering scent making her smile. Her whole world may be about to change, but for tonight at least, she wasn’t worried about it.

  ***

  Royal sat in the hotel bar, nursing a beer. It was a bit after midnight and he was unable to sleep, his mind a jumble. Stella was all over the place emotionally last night and today. One minute she was having him talk dirty to her over the phone, then next she was cool. She acknowledged it was her problem, and even told him why, but it still made it hard and he wondered if he was making progress or not. It’d only been a week, but her hot and cold cycles made it hard to know what to do.

  He snorted and gave the beer mug a spin. He’d promised he would give her time, and he would, but sometimes it was difficult to contain his hope, especially since they were fucking the hell out of each other every chance they got.

  “You look like you could use a friend,” a woman’s voice said. He turned as the woman sat down beside him. She was in her mid to late thirties, dressed in a dark blue power suit, and drunker than shit.

  “And you could use a cab if you aren’t staying in the hotel.”

  She cackled and leaned into him. “Nope! No cab needed. I’m giving a presentation to Lee University in the hotel tomorrow from noon until four. I flew in today to setup. You should go.”

  He grinned. She was totally sloshed, her words slurred as she waved her arms around. “What kind of conference?”

  “Glad you asked,” she said, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m trying to sell them on the idea of expanding their online presence. Online education is where it’s at! My company can help them set that up! Did you go to school?”

  “Only high school.”

  “You should go to college! You can do it online, at your own pace.” She waved the bartender over and pointed at her glass.

  “I think you’ve had enough,” Royal said, sliding the glass away from her.

  “You think?” She looked into his eyes. “Maybe you’re right. Just one more for the road, then you can take me back to my room.”

  He chuckled. She was attractive and a year ago he would be all over her, an easy conquest for him to fuck and forget. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re wearing a wedding band for one thing.”

  “Pfft, this old thing?” She pulled the band off and dropped it into her purse. “What wedding band?”

  “Won’t your husband care?”

  She leaned in close. “I really don’t care what he thinks. He cheats on me, I cheat on him, we cheat on each other. We fuck anybody and everybody, anybody but each other that is.” She looked around the bar. “Besides, we’re the only two in here. How would he know?”

  “So why do you wear the band?”

  She grinned. “Because I’m the wife of the respectable Doctor Gary T. Nelson, thoracic surgeon. He’s a great doctor but a lousy fuck. You look like a guy that knows how to fuck. Are you a good fuck?”

  He grinned and shook his head. “You want to find out?”

  “I thought you’d never ask!”

  “What room?”

  “618. You can call me Sophie, by the way.”

  The barkeep gave him a condescending look, but he ignored him. “Nice to meet you, Sophie. Now let’s get you out of here, okay?”

  He led her out of the bar and to the elevator. The moment the doors closed she turned to face him and offered her lips. “Wait,” he said softly. A moment later the elevator slowed and the door dinged open. He led her to the room, took her pass card, and after opening her door, escorted her inside. The moment the door closed she flung herself into his arms and kissed him lustily. After a moment, he gently pulled her away.

  “Why don’t you get undressed and into bed. I’ll be there in a moment.”

  “Don’t be long.”

  “I won’t.”

  He stepped into the bathroom and relieved himself then spent a few minutes checking his phone. When he thought it had been long enough, he opened the door and looked at the bed. The light from the bathroom provide plenty of illumination for him to see Sophie sprawled on the bed, nude, but fast asleep. With a grin and another shake of his head, he placed her pass card on the side table and quietly let himself out.

  He returned to the bar for another beer, still waiting for Blade to get back from his tour of duty staking out the Bass house. When he entered, less than ten minutes after he left, the barkeep gave him a quizzical look.

  “I put her to bed,” he said to the unasked question. “I’ll have another of the Obi Juan Chipotle,” he said, requesting a beer from a microbrew out of Chattanooga. He’d tried the beer on a whim, intrigued by the name, but found it had a nice smoky flavor and just a bit of heat he liked.

  The keep pulled the beer and placed it in front of him with a smile. “On the house.”

  Royal picked the frosty mug up in thanks. He’d never intended to fuck the woman, but she was embarrassing herself and giving her what she wanted seemed to be the most expedient way to get her out of the bar so he could enjoy his beer in peace.

  He sat, staring at nothing, his thoughts returning to Stella. He knew he might have to let her go, but he was determined not to give up until there was no hope.

  “La
st call,” the keep said.

  He nodded, downed the last of the beer in the mug, then threw a five on the bar as a tip. Blade should be back in less than a half-hour. Hammer and Goon were probably already asleep since one of them had to be at the house by five in the morning to see who left and who stayed. If they were lucky, tomorrow Wayne would be left alone in the house.

  “Anything?” Royal asked as Blade let himself into the room.

  “No, man. Quiet as a church. They turned the lights out about ten. Nobody left and nobody arrived.”

  “They saw you watching?”

  Blade grinned. “I made sure of it. I moved a couple of times, just to keep them guessing, but then rode away real quiet like.”

  Royal nodded. “Goon or Hammer has the first shift in the morning. The rest of us should be there about nine. I want to try to get his done early so we can get back to Charleston tomorrow.”

  Blade began to strip out of his clothes. “That’s fine with me. The sooner we get this done, the more money we make.”

  Royal nodded in agreement as he began to strip down to his shorts as well as he prepared for bed. He was still keyed up, and morning to was going to arrive early.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “Hammer, you copy?”

  “Copy, Royal.”

  “Status?”

  “The mom and dad left. Nobody else around.”

  “Okay. Goon and Blade have the back. I want you to pull back out of sight.”

  “Got it.”

  Royal was sitting at the Hardees while his team got into position. He was going to make a straight forward play for Wayne, but if he rabbited, he needed the extra boots on the ground to run him down. He waited twenty minutes to let things settle around the Bass home, then stepped out of the Suburban. They didn’t know for sure Wayne was in his parents’ home, but even if they did, they couldn’t break the door down. There were rules about these sorts of things, and failure to follow them could cost him his license. He needed him to open the door.

  Royal stepped around to the back of the SUV and flipped through his collection of magnetic stickers, pulling out two that had a picture of a high-tension power line tower and the words Electric Company around the outside of the shield. It looked very official, if you didn’t look too closely.

  He took the two shields and stuck them on the front doors of the white truck, then pinned a badge to his collar that identified him as Terrence Walton, Inspector. Dressed in a light blue polo, sand-colored pants and brown loafers, he looked professional and businesslike, the same reason he sported no tattoos or facial hair, and kept his hair cut stylishly short.

  He drove up the Bass home and parked in the drive like he belonged there, stepping out of the SUV with a clipboard and strode to the front door. He rapped on the door solidly, then looked around as if he didn’t have a care in world. When nobody answered, he rapped again.

  “Go away!” a voice called from inside.

  “Mr. Bass? Mr. Charles Bass?”

  “He’s not here.”

  Royal paused as if he were thinking. “Are you a resident here?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m with the power company. I need to speak to you about your meter.”

  “What about it?”

  “Can you open the door?”

  “What do you want?”

  Royal sighed in mock exasperation. “Your meter appeared to be faulty. Our records show you have used approximately six times the power this month that you used in the previous month, and is far above your average. I’m here to inspect the meter.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “I need you sign the waiver first.”

  “What waiver?”

  “I have to turn the power off to the house before I can inspect the meter. I need you sign the waiver before I can do that.”

  “You’ll have to come back.”

  Royal shrugged. “Okay, but I’m obligated to tell you that you will be responsible for all charges until the meter has been inspected.” He flipped papers. “That’s currently $638.90.” He began scribbling on his clipboard, then stuck a piece of paper in the door. “That’s notification that I spoke with someone at the residence and you declined to have the meter inspected. You can call the number on the paper to schedule an appointment.” He turned to go.

  “Wait a minute,” the voice said as the door opened slightly. “If I sign the waiver you can do whatever you need to do?”

  Royal turned back to the door. “Yes, sir. The power should only be off about ten minutes.”

  The door opened and Wayne Alan Bass stood in the door wearing only a pair of pants riding low over his hips. Royal smiled at the husky, tattooed man with long greasy hair and beard. He could probably take him right here and get away with it, but if Wayne signed the “waiver” he was signing a document that acknowledged Royal had the right to enter the premises with the purpose of taking him into custody.

  Royal handed the man the clipboard. “If you’ll just sign at the bottom.” Nobody ever reads things before they sign and Wayne was no different. Wayne signed and handed the clipboard back. “Thank you, Mr. Bass,” Royal said taking the clipboard. “Almost done,” he said with a smile. He tossed the clipboard to the floor to free his hands, then reached behind him for his weapon. “Wayne Alan—” he began.

  Wayne, having been in and out of prison for years, realized what was going down, and tried to slam the door. Royal crashed into the into the door with his shoulder to prevent Wayne from shutting it, knocking Wayne backwards, then charged through the door while trying to draw his weapon.

  Wayne recovered and hurtled himself at Royal, driving him backwards and out onto the porch. They hit the planking of the porch floor hard, Wayne driving Royal down. He threw a hard punch Royal was only partially able to block, before scrambling to his feet and charged back into the house.

  “Rabbit! Rabbit! Rabbit!” Royal yelled as he scrambled to his feet to give chase. If Wayne got his hands on a weapon they were in deep shit.

  Royal caught Wayne as he grabbed a pistol from a side table. He never slowed, driving right through him, turning over the table and chair as his momentum carried them over the furniture and to the floor. Wayne fought with frenzied desperation, his eyes bulging and spittle flying as the two men battled. Royal tried to get Wayne into a joint lock, but Wayne was like a wild man, screaming and cursing as they tumbled over each other.

  Wayne broke free and tried to run, but Royal sprang to his feet and hauled him down again as they crashed into kitchen table, turning it over and spilling plates and utensils into the floor. Wayne grabbed a knife from the floor and lunged at Royal. It was only a butter knife, but even a butter knife could kill, and Royal caught his wrist to stop it from plunging into his chest.

  Wayne was leaning into the knife, his eyes crazed, muscles bulging, as he tried to bury it in Royal’s heart. Royal gasped, putting everything he had into holding it off. He twisted Wayne’s hand and the knife crashed into the floor just by his ear. He forced Wayne over onto his back, but Wayne continued the roll, coming up on top again and once again tried to drive the knife into Royal’s chest as Royal strained to prevent it.

  Hammer skidded to a stop and wrapped a beefy arm around Wayne’s neck and hauled him off of Royal. A moment later, Goon and Blade arrived and slid to a stop.

  Royal scrambled to his feet. “Hold him!” he panted.

  Hammer had him, but Wayne wasn’t giving up easily. Royal forced one hand down and slapped the cuffs over his wrist, then he and Blade together twisted Wayne’s other arm down and back as he shrieked in pain and rage until Royal could secure his wrists behind his back.

  Wayne spat in Royal’s face and it was all he could do not to punch that asshole’s lights out. “Put him out!” Royal ordered as he wiped his face. They waited while Hammer tightened his grip until Wayne went limp, then lowered him gently to the ground. “Get the leg irons,” Royal ordered.

  “What took you so long?” Royal asked, grimacing and tryin
g to work the soreness out of his shoulders and back. He never got his weapon drawn. With all the rolling around his gun had dug painfully into his back, and he felt like he may have strained something trying to prevent Wayne from plunging the knife into his chest.

  “Took us so long? Hell, we were here in less than thirty seconds. We came running as soon as you said his name. Just because he was kicking your ass, don’t blame it on us!” Hammer laughed and slapped Royal on the shoulder. “You’re the one who wanted the glamour job of being the runner.”

  “Yeah. It’s really glamourous having a knife sticking out of your chest.”

 

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