Blind Date (Venture, Georgia Book 3)

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Blind Date (Venture, Georgia Book 3) Page 5

by Olivia Gaines


  The great thing about the phone was that it held no passcode to use it. Carelessness on Roger’s part. A potential help mate on Man’s. He used the phone to call corporate. Beauty answered quickly.

  “I was about to call you regarding your assignment,” she said breathily. “The client is anxious.”

  “I just bet he is. Did he happen to mention she has a dependent roommate?” Man said to her.

  “What?” Beauty exclaimed in disbelief and shock.

  “Yes, it is not very old,” he told Beauty referring to the child who slept in a small bed. The size of the bed meant the child was possibly just around a toddler, give or take a year. Shanice herself was a petite woman. The child could also be small in size because of his mother’s genes. He wanted to know more about her and the child.

  “Hold the line,” she said.

  He could hear her dialing in the background. Beauty spoke to the client in hushed tones before she reconnected on the line with him. Man wasn’t going to like what she had to say. She knew he specifically did not take contracts that involved children.

  “Hey Man, the client will pay extra for you to handle the situation,” she affirmed. “I know it is not in your wheelhouse or comfort zone, but I can send in someone else to handle the extra.”

  Someone else would handle it all right. The thought of it made his stomach churn. What kind of man would want to kill off his own child? For a second, he thought maybe Shanice was extorting money from some rich dude. However, from the looks of her apartment, the second-hand furniture and sparse pickings in the fridge said otherwise.

  Think Man!

  Think!

  “I will handle it,” he told Beauty and hung up the phone. He wore gloves so there would be no prints as he wiped down everything he touched then replaced Roger’s cell on the charging cord.

  This was a hiccup that he didn’t like. However, if he planned to have the woman, he would have to take the kid too. It was a boy. He’d spotted a toy train on the floor in the kid’s bedroom.

  “Me as an instant father,” he said with a smile. “I could get used to it, I guess. Shit, if I do what I’m thinking, I know I will have to get used to it.”

  All he knew for certain at that moment were the emotions wreaking havoc in his head. He wanted to wake up next to that woman for the rest of his life. The idea of ending each night in her arms or starting the morning with coffee and fresh eggs with her in his kitchen increased his heart rate at the thought. He stared into the mirror over the dresser and looked at himself with new eyes that no longer seemed distant.

  Certain truths were self-evident. Allowing Shanice and her son to live carried a heavy weight on him. A weight that meant another woman and child would have to take her place.

  Research.

  I need to do some research.

  Man slipped from Roger’s home and headed out the back gate to the alley, where he left his vehicle. His next stop was to the library. He needed a land line computer and a hell of a lot of luck.

  Chapter 8- Well, Look at You

  The little Toyota drove better than it had in years. Who knew a tune up and an oil change would make such a difference? Those things were a luxury. Every now and then, she would find a coupon for a quick oil change, but money was tight. Fear of Eric finding her stopped her from applying for any government assistance for her and Rocky. She made do with what she had.

  Four years ago, when Sugar Bear passed, her world became smaller and tighter. She didn’t even attend her mother’s funeral. She couldn’t. A call to Ethan’s mother from Mr. Charlie said it was all too fishy for anyone’s liking. The small insurance policy was used to bury her and what was left over was given to Mr. Charlie. Sugar Bear didn’t leave it to her. Two weeks after Sugar Bear’s death, the used Toyota showed up at Hester’s. Shanice also found an envelope in the glove compartment with two grand in it.

  The money was used to buy some second-hand furniture, paid three months’ worth of rent, and got her and Rocky out of Hester and the Reverend’s house. Her cousin loved having her and the baby there, but Rocky was fussy. No one deserved to be kept up all night by a child that wasn’t their own. As Rocky grew, Ethan would spend time with him, being the only father figure he had.

  Ethan was busy though. His first novel hadn’t done very well. However, the second novel made the USA Today Best Selling Author’s list. He worked hard at marketing, book signings, and traveling to build his name, so he could become a New York Times Best Selling author. He really didn’t have time to help raise another man’s son. He and Janie didn’t seem in a hurry to have any kids of their own.

  Her t-shirt business had taken off in an unexpected way, and little time was left over for either of them to manage the bookstore. Janie’s sister Meg went off to college. Her brother Jem had taken over the family business selling fresh eggs, tea, and organic honey to the locals. Saturdays, he was at the farmer’s market, and during the week, he made deliveries. The young man had no interest in working in the book store.

  Janie told her that she was a blessing. Ethan said he was grateful for her assistant, which gave him uninterrupted writing time. Rocky was only three months old when she started working part time in the book store. In four years, she went from part time shelving to store manager. She ran Roxy Comics, Books & More, went to school to earn her degree, and mothered a little boy who gave the word ‘handful’ a bad name. Ethan enrolled him in martial arts classes when he was three. He made a point of being free to take him to class twice per week.

  Rocky settled down, but she knew he wanted a father. At five years old, he saw other kids spending time with their dads, and he wanted one for himself. The dream of a happy family was over for her. At least, she’d thought until last night. Stay in my arms forever.

  “I actually said those words to that man!” She said aloud as she climbed the front stairs to Hester’s home to pick up Rocky.

  She liked Hester a great deal. The lady was a whole lot like her Mama, Sugar Bear. Hester too said what was on her mind. Sugar Bear’s statements of facts were usually followed by a string of expletives. Hester’s were followed by bible verses. Either way, she was admonished for doing stupid things which impacted her life in a less than favorable manner. Roger was a stupid thing that she had every intention of doing again.

  Taking care of Rocky wasn’t a burden. She loved the little man and wanted the best in life for him, even though she’d made a poor selection in the man who fathered him. That wasn’t Rocky’s fault. It was hers. Shanice never planned to make another poor selection in men. Roger would be something just for her. He wouldn’t be a part of Rocky’s life. The last thing he needed was some man to let him down too.

  Hester opened the front door and gave her that guilty look. “Well, look at you, scooching along like something that the cat dragged in,” she teased Shanice.

  “Good afternoon Hester,” she happily answered.

  After church, it was the Strom’s custom to visit one of the three ‘all you could eat’ troughs in town. Rocky had been fed a large dinner, which made supper something easy and cheap.

  “You look really relaxed and not so tight around the mouth,” Hester said with an arched eyebrow.

  “Yes, I needed to stretch a little bit last night,” Shanice said with a sideways smile.

  “By the way you are moving, you may need to soak in some Epsom salts,” Hester told Shanice.

  “Just might do that,” she responded.

  Out of nowhere, Hester grabbed her by the arm, held tight, and pulled her into an embrace which nearly suffocated her. Shanice could feel the dampness from Hester’s tears as her cheek pressed against her face. Uncertain what this was about, she tried to pull away.

  “Hester, what’s wrong? Are you missing Tallulah?” She asked with much curiosity. Her daughter married Janie’s brother and moved to Wyoming. The past two years, they had come in from Wyoming just before Thanksgiving and stayed through the New Year. This time, a sadness settled into Hester which wa
s noticeable.

  “No, that’s not why I am crying. There is an aura about you girl that attracts bad. You are covered in it. Whoever he is has dusted you in his wickedness, but something else is also there that I can’t see. I’m going to get my oils and anoint you and that baby’s heads before you leave this house,” Hester exclaimed, wiping away her tears. “Oh, Lord Jesus, hold them up in your Grace and cover them in your blood!”

  Shanice didn’t know what that meant, but she and Rocky stood still as Hester made a greasy cross with her thumb in the middle of their foreheads.

  “Let that soak into your skin and do not wipe it off,” Hester cautioned.

  “Hester, do you know something I don’t?” Shanice asked, puzzled by her actions.

  “Yes, but Thy will be done,” Hester said, hugging both she and Rocky really tight. “I love you both with all my heart. If you ever need anything, I am here for you. Come talk to me, use me to help guide you, but trust me more than anything.”

  “I trust you with my child, who also means I trust you with my life,” Shanice said squeezing her hard.

  “Baby, you are going to need a lot of trust to get through what’s coming at you next,” Hester alleged.

  Truthfully, the woman creeped her out in a bad way sometimes, but like Sugar Bear, she usually was never wrong. Her Grandmother once said Sugar Bear had the sight. Sugar Bear said Hester had a touch of it as well, which is why she sent her to Venture, Georgia to be under her cousin’s watchful eye.

  “Listen to Hester. She will never steer you wrong,” Sugar Bear told her when she snuck her out the back door that night Mr. Charlie drove her to Augusta to put her on a bus. Thus far, neither woman had been erroneous.

  “Trust,” she said to Hester before she led Rocky to the car.

  Hester called out to her from the porch. “Trust your gut. Do not go with your emotions, trust your gut, and you will get through this,” Hester cautioned.

  “What does she mean Mommy?” Rocky asked.

  “She is telling me to have faith in something I can’t see,” she told the boy.

  “Does faith need me to keep this stuff on my forehead?” Rocky wanted to know.

  “Evidently, it does,” she told him. “Let’s head home, put on a movie and have some popcorn.”

  The idea made the boy happy. She wasn’t so sure what to make out of Hester’s warning other than the sinking feeling that she’d made a mistake again last night with a new man. Hester told her that Roger had dusted her in his wickedness.

  “That man dusted me with a lot more than just wickedness,” she said into the rear-view mirror as she looked back at her son. Closing her eyes for a brief second, she prayed silently that he too would not be a humongous jerk and ruin her life as well. She and Rocky deserved something good in their lives. It was years past due.

  Man sat at the computer, staring at the screen. Dread filled his heart as he searched through databases looking for what he needed to make his plan work. Two hours later, his time ended on the public computer use. He’d gotten lucky.

  It never once crossed his mind to fulfill the contract and to make it easy on himself. Shanice and her son lived in a two-bedroom apartment that was two steps above the projects. Her cabinets revealed that she lived on a very tight budget with very few fresh veggies and fruits in the fridge. A boy needed balanced meals to grow up strong. He remembered his father speaking those same words to his mother about him. Christopher Mann was not his biological father. Yet, he adopted him, gave him his name, and raised him as his own in north Georgia.

  His mother, Paula, had run in the middle of the night from the man who had sired him in an effort to save both of their lives. Hungry, weak, and bloody, she stumbled into a police station after getting as far as she could from North Carolina with an arm baby. Luckily for her, the Sheriff on duty took care of her and the baby and set them up in a woman’s shelter.

  As his mother told the story, he checked on them frequently. Later, the Sheriff became her friend then husband and father to him. Man had no other brothers and sisters. His biological father made sure his mother would never have any more. Big Sheriff Christopher Mann didn’t have any either, which left him to grow up as an only child. It didn’t stop his mother’s paranoia that his biological father would show up on their doorstep any day. She kept a backpack on the ready at all times and took it everywhere she went. It held socks, undies, a toothbrush, and change of clothing for her and him. As he got older, she made him keep his own back pack with the same items.

  To this day, he always carried one. Partially out of habit. Ruefully, out of necessity.

  His life with Big Chris Mann was solid. He was a good person with solid ideas but a gambler. He died and left them with nothing. The property they resided on held three mortgages to three different high interest rate banks. Creditors and unsavory men began to call on his mother the day after Christopher Mann’s death. One even took it upon himself to take out what his father owed him on Paula Mann.

  A random man attempted to force himself upon his mother to collect payment for a debt she didn’t owe was reprehensible. It turned out so was the man whose life he took. That was the day Man killed his first person.

  A bounty was on the man’s head, and Paula received the reward since he’d only been 17 years old at the time. It was enough to pay off two of the mortgages, but life was still hard. As a teen, the public library was his friend. A quick visit to the stacks, and he read up on how to grow a hydroponic garden to ensure he and his mother had fresh vegetables to eat all year long. Paula learned to can veggies, and Big Chris had taught him to hunt and fish. To save on processing fees, he also learned, after several bouts of vomiting, to dress his own game, which ran freely about the 40 acres they owned.

  They had meat. They had food. They still owed bad men. Greedy, bad men with too much money who sat behind large desks dispensing orders to have people removed from the world. Bad men who came back to their house once again one night for him and his mother to attempt to collect on Big Chris’ debts.

  The bad men met an equally bad end. He was ready this time for the sneak attacks. Booby traps were set throughout the property to stop the unsavory characters who showed up in the middle of the night for his mother. The final one who showed up was his biological father.

  He looked just like the man which was off putting to say the least. He wasn’t anything like him though. As brain poor on one side as Chris Mann was for his demons, on the other side he was a solid family man. He cared for him and his mother as a man would do and kept them safe from harm as long as he lived.

  Chris just didn’t live long enough to protect them from the Boogie Man.

  “Look at you, all grown looking like the spitting image of me,” his father spoke.

  “I am nothing like you,” he responded.

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I would never hurt a woman or a child,” he said to his father.

  “Bullshit... you little sociopathic monster. You’ve killed three of my best men! I know you killed the first one because your stupid whore of a mother can’t even cut up a chicken let alone knife a man. The other two died out in your woods with your little bitch ass booby traps,” his father reasoned.

  “What is it you want from us? We have no money. This house still has a mortgage, we have nothing,” he said to him.

  “She took you away from me. She stole my fucking son and married that weak, sorry excuse for a Sheriff. Laying up with him in this shack she calls a home. Allowing that money lustful fool to guide you into manhood,” he yelled at Man while squeezing Paula’s arm until she winced.

  “Would it have made you happy to grow me up in your image Father?”

  “Yes! Hell yes! You are my son,” he told him.

  “Would your wife have been okay with me being guided in your image?”

  “You know nothing!” He spat at Man. “Here you are 18 years old and looking at me as if I am some kind of animal unworthy of your respect whi
le that potbellied, gambling, mewling quid tried teaching you right from wrong.”

  Still calm in the most unsettling of ways to his father, the young man didn’t seem to be worried that he’d found them. His voice was even when he spoke, “I am curious Father to learn the one thing you deem so important that you wanted to teach me which you believe Big Chris couldn’t?”

  “I would have taught you to be a man and stand up for yourself and your mother,” his father screamed, turning red in the face.

  “It seems to me that is what I have been doing,” Man responded.

  His father had no words. The hold on Paula’s arm was released as the narrow-hipped man stood in the small kitchen and faced his adult son. The full lips on his mouth pursed to say something Man knew was going to piss him off.

  “She owes me! Paula, you belong to me!” His father yelled.

  “My mother is not your property,” Man politely responded. The bullet from the gun that his father didn’t know he held shattered his father’s knee. Man warned him if he ever came back, the next bullet would not be in his knee but in the heart he didn’t have.

  “We...I owe you nothing. I don’t even owe you for planting your seed to bring me into this world. My mother owes you nothing. You keep sending men. I am going to keep killing them until I get bored of it all and come for you. Or maybe, I’ll come for your wife,” he taunted.

  Pausing to look his father in the eyes, he knelt beside him. “I was thinking of paying Horace, Newton, and Rebecca a visit anyway. You do realize those kids look nothing like you. Life is funny like that. Maybe while you were out cheating with other women, some other man was in your bed creating those kids you have raised in your likeness. That Newton enjoys killing things, especially cats. You may want to get him some preventative counseling,” Man mocked.

  The shock that he knew all about his family was a surprise. “That mewling quid as you called him gave me the file on you and your family years ago. Trust me... I came looking for you as well. I love that oversized chair in your den. If you look in the arm of that chair, you will see where I left you a chewing gum wrapper with my name in it,” he said softly as he brushed aside an out of place lock on his father’s head as he rocked from side to side in agonizing pain.

 

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