by Taylor Lee
From the moment the match began, Lei evaded every strike. Countering with an aerial move and counterstrike she had Zhi breathless against the wall. Like a greased monkey, she ducked, slipped and slid from every attack. She combined her counterattacks with a front or back flip or an unexpected sideways strike. After twenty minutes of attack and counterattack with Lei landing most of her strikes and Zhi landing few, Zhi held up his hands and said enough. The dojo erupted with applause. Lei’s face, shining with joy, told the story.
Wyatt invited Lei and Joey to a celebration dinner at his cottage. Joined by Chief, Alono, and the children, the evening became a glorious retelling of every move and countermove.
With tears in her eyes, Lei turned to Joey, then Wyatt. “How can I ever thank you? You taught me moves I never conceived of. Neither did my father. More than anything, you believed in me. Thank you.”
Joey said, “My dear, it was a privilege. Except for Wyatt, I have never had a more apt student or more dedicated one. Or one more intent on winning. You have everything you need now to become a master warrior. It is my expectation that you will earn that status by the end of the year.”
Joey nodded to Wyatt. “Once again, as much as it pains me, I have to acknowledge the brilliance of the man sitting next to you. It was Wyatt who designed the moves that built on your strengths. Up until he got involved, you were doing a lot of fancy flips. They weren’t enough to protect you. Wyatt came up with the combinations that made your acrobatic talent an offensive weapon instead of merely a beautiful show.”
Wyatt held up his hand and shook his head.
“Uh, uh, Joey. There is one person who is responsible for Lei’s performance today and that is Lei. You and I have worked our hearts out over the years with students who weren’t intelligent or talented enough to take advantage of our teaching. Lei is the smartest student I have seen. Her talent ranks at the top. It is a privilege to work with you,” he said bowing to Lei.
Everyone clapped and bowed to Lei as she blushed with pleasure.
Elena said, “Now that Lei is so good, Daddy, will you let her teach me to fly?”
Wyatt was appropriately embarrassed. “Honey, Lei was always good enough to teach you. I was just jealous because she can fly higher than me.”
Elena said, “That’s okay, Daddy. After she teaches me, maybe I can help you get higher.”
Everyone laughed and the evening continued happily.
~~~
Wyatt lay beside Lei that night, marveling at her beautiful body. He never tired of looking at her. She was extraordinary. He reveled in her response to him. No matter what he did, how or where he touched her, she responded breathlessly. It was as though he touched a place inside of her that had never been touched before. It wasn’t only what he did to her, but what she did to him. Since that night at the Cheyenne Hotel, she was enamored with his cock. She loved touching him, playing with him, driving him to more and more intense climaxes. Her face was buried between his legs and Wyatt moaned in pleasure.
He said with a grin and a groan, “Christ, honey, I think you like this amazing piece of machinery as much as I do.”
She licked him, sucking a drop of cum from the end of his cock. Peeking up at him with a saucy grin, she said, “More.”
Without question, Lei was the most enthusiastic lover he had ever had. And she was indefatigable. After her fourth or fifth climax of the night he would hold up his hands pretending to beg for mercy. In truth, he was thrilled she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
When he allowed himself to consider the differences with Lei and past lovers, Wyatt conceded, it was him that was different. He was no longer the aloof connoisseur sampling various treats. He was an active participant, wanting, needing her-- greedy for everything she offered.
They didn’t only make love. They talked—sometimes long into the night. At first, most of their conversation revolved around their mutual love of kung fu. They spent hours discussing moves and retelling sparring successes and defeats. Lei never tired of hearing Wyatt describe strike by strike, kick by kick, his most significant battles. Often she jumped out of bed, insisting he show her precisely what he had done. More often than not, those demonstrations precipitated new and even more passionate lovemaking, usually ending up in an incomprehensible flurry of arms and legs and laughing shrieks.
Most surprising to Wyatt was her wise counsel. Without realizing it, he was soon sharing with her some of his deepest concerns. She listened thoughtfully. Often she didn’t say anything for a while, then minutes later asked a perceptive question or two that went to the heart of the issue he was facing. He soon stopped being surprised and started seeking her advice. In a strange way, she reminded him of himself. She didn’t think like other people. Her solutions and suggestions were as unexpected as his.
“Lei, how did you learn to think the way you do,” he asked in admiration one night after she had made a suggestion he immediately saw was the answer he had been searching for.
“Don’t forget who my father is.”
Wyatt smiled. “He taught you to think?”
“In a way he did. I used to love to listen to him at the dinner table, arguing with whoever wasn’t afraid to challenge him. If he admired the person, he was open to their ideas. But if he thought they were not wise or thoughtful, he would demolish them.”
“I would think as a child that would make you decide not to speak up, not to offer your suggestions,” Wyatt said.
“That’s interesting you say that. Ri responded that way. He became shy. Even to this day, he and our father rarely discuss ideas. I don’t think I’ve ever heard my father ask Ri for his opinion.” She added, “As I’m sure you know, my father can be cruel.”
“What made you different?”
“I wasn’t afraid of my father. Everyone else was – and is. Even Ri, maybe especially Ri. I always thought about what I wanted to say before I said it. That is what my father does. As I got older, he started asking my opinion. Lots of times he would invite me to the library after dinner with his important men. He let me listen to their conversation. After they left, he would ask me what I thought. I would tell him. When I disagreed with someone, he would ask me why. Most of the time, it turned out he also disagreed and was surprised that I had seen through their arguments.”
“Did he talk with you about his business?”
“That was mostly what we talked about.” She smiled. “You would be surprised the things I know, Wyatt.”
“I’ll bet I would be,” he said with a grin. He added, “You said your father was cruel. Was he cruel to you?”
“No, but I saw him kill people he thought had wronged him -- sometimes with his bare hands. After he killed them, he would walk away without a backward glance.”
“Jesus, honey. That seems like a hard lesson to learn from a parent.”
“I think that is why Ri is still afraid of him. I have never said this to my father, but I am certain that is why my mother left us.”
Wyatt was amazed at her insight. He hesitated, then asked a question he had often thought but not asked. “Why didn’t your mother take you with her when she left?”
“Because my father would have killed her.”
Wyatt was quiet for several minutes. “You know, Lei, your father thinks the anger you have is at your mother for leaving you. I wonder if it isn’t at your father for driving her away.”
Lei said with a sad smile, her lips trembling, “I often wonder the same thing.”
Wyatt reached for her. “Come over here, honey. Let me hold you.” He held her for a moment. “Lei, I think that is a good reason to cry. If you ever want someone to hold you when you do, I’m here.”
She nodded and didn’t speak for a moment. With tears in her eyes, she spoke softly, but her words were fierce. “Even if I thought my husband would kill me, I would die before I left my children.”
“Oh, honey, honey.” He held her and began kissing her. Her eyes and ears, her face, neck, and then picked her u
p and laid her on the bed. After he had taken off all of her clothes, he made long slow passionate love to her. He told her how beautiful she was, how much he loved being with her, and how good she made him feel.
After they made love, Wyatt couldn’t sleep. He had talked to Frank that morning and knew the scandal was close to breaking. When Lei asked him what he was thinking about, he decided to tell her the story. She was astonished at the magnitude of the fraud. She knew from what Wyatt said earlier that Martin was involved in something bad. But she was surprised at its significance.
After she listened to the whole story, Lei was thoughtful. “I think the worst part of this is that I doubt Martin thinks there is anything wrong with what he planned to do. He thinks he deserves to take all that land. Just like he thinks he deserves to take Frank’s money, and deserves to be governor, for no other reason than who he is. He is a cruel, pompous person. I wish there was a way to make Martin suffer more, to stretch out his agony, a way to make him squirm and have to face the shame of what he has done.”
Wyatt roared. “Goddamn, Lei, I promise you that is what I have been lying here thinking about. Christ, we do think alike. Since you are as devious as I am, try this out. Let me know if you think this is as brilliant an idea as I do.”
He sketched out the plan he had put in motion that morning.
She listened with a smile. “That is brilliant and devious. It is better than a full knee kick in the groin with a high heeled shoe.”
Wyatt was still laughing ten minutes later when he made love to her all over again.
~~~
Chapter 20
Martin listened in disbelief to Frank’s banker. He went to the bank to transfer one million dollars from Frank’s account to his own. He needed the money in place this afternoon to meet the deadline imposed by his Eastern cohorts.
Taking a deep breath and plastering a smile on his face, he said to the banker, “There must be some mistake, Stew. I have Frank’s consent to take this money. I am helping him with an investment. He asked me to be responsible for getting the money to the investors.”
“That doesn’t sound like Frank,” the banker said with a glare. “But regardless, he was in here yesterday and closed this account.”
“Oh, that’s the problem,” Martin said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. “Frank forgot to give me the new account number. That can happen you know. The guy is eighty two years old. Tell you what; we’ll keep this between the two of us. We won’t let old Frank know that he forgot to give me the new account number. I don’t want to embarrass him, and I’m sure you don’t.”
The banker pinned him with a cold stare. “I’m sorry Mr. Kendrick. The only person who has access to the new account is Frank.”
It wasn’t until he got outside that the full impact hit Martin. This could not be. This just could not be. There must be some mistake. Some freak accident of timing made Frank move his money. He must have a big investment he wants to make. Desperately trying to push down his rising panic, Martin knew he had to convince Frank to give him access to the new account.
Martin rode up to the ranch house that had belonged to his grandfather. It was the smallest of the Kendrick ranches. Frank took it over after Morgan died. The offspring were delighted. It was by far the most modest of all the Kendrick properties. It seemed appropriate to them that Frank live there. He lived alone, and god knows the old guy never entertained. Who would he entertain?
Frank met him on the porch. “Haven’t seen you for a while, Martin. What’s up? Need a campaign donation? Sorry, I’ve already given to your opponent.”
Martin swallowed his angry response and said with a forced smile, “Come on Frank, can’t we have a pleasant conversation once every year or so?”
“What do you want, Martin?”
“Frank, for god’s sake, can we at least sit down,” asked Martin walking over to one of the porch chairs and sinking down. He didn’t know how much longer his legs would hold him, he was shaking so hard.
Frank stood in the doorway eyeballing his grand nephew. “I’m askin’ you for the last time, Martin. What do you want?”
Martin couldn’t keep his voice from shaking. He tried to bluster through. “I went to the bank this morning to transfer some funds. Stew told me you closed your account. I thought there must be some mistake because you hadn’t told any of us.”
Frank squinted at him, his rheumy eyes moist. “Yeah, I’m consolidating my funds. Don’t worry. You and my other parasites will have your access back within the month. I purposefully waited to close the account until all of you sucked out your monthly allotments. By the time you are ready for your next payment, the new account will be ready.”
Chipping away at his panic, Martin said, “Hate to ask you, Frank, but I am a little short on campaign funds. We are raising buckets of it every day, but I need to pay some bills now. I can get it back to you by the end of the month.”
Frank’s face hardened. “Martin, I wasn’t kidding when I said I contributed to your opponent. I can’t think of a worse fate for the state of Wyoming than to have you for a governor. The last thing I would do is give you money to pay campaign bills.”
Martin swallowed hard trying to think what to say next. He looked up to see Frank looking at him with a look he had never seen before. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought Frank had tears in his eyes.
Frank said, “Now, tell you what. You get the hell off this ranch and don’t come back. Or I might just think about cutting your allowance. Hell, you’re only forty-two years old. Why would I expect you would have been able to make a living by now?”
He turned and went into the house closing the door behind him.
Martin sat on the porch staring straight ahead for a full five minutes. When he got up and went to get on his horse, he felt a hell of a lot older than forty-two.
~~~
His partners were waiting at the hotel. They had arranged for an almost unheard of long distance telephone call with their chief intermediary in Washington. The call had taken over a week to organize. The purpose was to ensure that all the funds had been collected and could be transferred within the next week or so when the deal was consummated.
The five men gathered around the central speaker and listened to the voice of their money partner in Washington. His voice was barely audible because of the static.
Martin waited until he had finished speaking. “Charles, we have a bit of a hiccup here.” Ignoring the surprised look on his partners’ faces, he continued. “My portion won’t be available today. Had some challenges with the bank consolidating the funds. I’ll have it cleared up in a couple of days.”
After some tense back and forth between Charles and Martin, they agreed that Charles would get his partners to extend the deadline two days.
When the call ended, Paul Creighton turned to Martin. “What the goddamn fuck was that about, Martin? We all agreed to have our money ready to go today. John, Peter, Al, and I have done just that. Where the hell is your money?”
Martin huffed, annoyance cloaking his fear. “Like I told Charles, I ran into a consolidating problem I didn’t know about until I went to the bank today. I hope to have it cleared up in a couple of days.”
John said, “Martin, holy shit, this is serious. Do you realize what will happen if we can’t prove the money is available in two days?”
“Goddamn,” said Peter. “At the least we will all lose our deposits. Hell, that won’t be the half of it.”
Paul stood up white faced. He pounded on the table.
“You’re goddamn right that won’t be the half of it. How long do you think a few “somebodies” in Washington who lost out on a two million dollar payday are going to wait before they seek retribution? Letting it slip to a Congressman or two what was going down?”
Martin stood up. He said in as firm a voice as he could muster, “I said I would have it under control in a couple of days. Now if you will excuse me, I need to meet with my brother to see if
we can figure out the problem.”
Martin was lying when he told his partners he was going to see his brother. After he left the hotel, he decided that was the only thing he could do. He had borrowed money from Randall and four cousins to cobble together his portion of the down payment.
Randall listened in horror when Martin told him what happened. Like Martin, he was shocked by the coincidence of Frank closing the account. He voiced the fear that Martin had been quashing all day.
“Is there some way Frank could have found out about this, Martin?” Randall asked.
Martin said, “There’s only one way that I can think of that Frank could’ve found out. If it is true I may as well put a gun to my head tonight.”
Randall blanched. “You think McManus knows something? He talked to Frank?”
Martin shook his head. “I don’t know. If he did, I am a dead man.”
Randall said, “Martin, you gotta keep your head. You’re getting ahead of yourself. You’re letting McManus spook you. Christ, you know Frank hates all of us. He’s probably been planning to cut our allotments. He wants us to beg him each month for our money. So he closed the account we have access to. That is a much more likely prospect than McManus figuring all this out.”
For the first time since he left the bank, Martin took a full breath. He gawked at his brother in amazement. “Goddamn, Randall, you may be right. This is something the old son of a bitch would do. He loves to rub our noses in shit. He wants to do anything he can to make us beg for his horseshit money. Christ, this is just like him.”