Love's Trusting (The Love's Series)

by Jordan, Maryann

  Finishing the security checks, he walked over to the small kitchen and leaned against the counter effectively blocking her in. His eyes raked over her body, noting that the robe had parted at the top, showing the worn t-shirt she wore. With a closer look, he discerned the faded words Fairfield High School Football on the shirt. Mine. That was mine. She still wears my shirt. Not overtly sexy, it still had his dick standing at attention just seeing her in his shirt. But then she could always do that to me.

  “I was wrong to leave, Suzy.”

  She gasped, her eyes darting around desperate to look at anything other than his face.

  “I was young and foolish and didn’t know how to fight for what I knew was best. For what I wanted.”

  Her eyes finally rested on the floor as she slowly shook her head. Please don’t do this.

  “Suzy, look at me. Please. We have a history. We had good times and maybe you don’t want to remember them, but baby I can’t forget them.”

  Her eyes lifted, the pain replaced by anger. “My name is Suzanne. I left the childhood name back in Fairfield.”

  He took in her rigid stance and defiant look. One he had seen years before. But this time was different. As a young man, he viewed it as the end. Now he realized it was self-preservation. She still yearns after all these years. She still hurts. She still grieves. That means she still feels.

  Leaning over, he kissed the top of her head whispering, “You’ll always be Suzy to me. And get used to it, baby. This time I’m not giving up.” With that, he turned and walked to the door saying, “I want to hear the deadbolt after I leave.”

  Memories slid over her as the third glass of wine was beginning to take effect. Tonight they were sad. The ones that moved in even when she didn’t want them to and threatened to pull her under…

  I stood next to his old, beat-up SUV that was packed to the hilt with everything he was taking to college. He was leaving and I had one more year of high school. I was terrified about being left behind. There were so many women at college who would take one look at Brad and want him for themselves. We haven’t even had sex yet. He wanted to wait until I was eighteen, but that was seven months away. Sighing, I looked over as his mom and dad were saying goodbye. His mom was tearful, but both parents were so proud of him. I am too, but I wish…

  Suddenly he was standing in front of me, holding me close. No matter how much I tried to stop them the tears still came.

  “Shh Suzy. We’ll get through this just fine. I’m yours, you know that. And nothing will ever be able to tear us apart. Not distance, not college, nothing. We’re meant to be, baby. You can trust that we’re strong enough to face anything.”

  Pushing herself up from the couch, she walked into the kitchen to toss the wine bottle and rinse out her glass. Trust. Yeah, right. I believed him. I believed that we were stronger than anything. I just had no idea how bad it could get.

  * * *

  BJ found himself driving around town before going back to his apartment, the dark of the night penetrating his truck, the only illumination coming from the dashboard and occasional street light. A country song played on the radio, its words soulfully reminiscing about a lost love or a new love. He couldn’t really tell. He just knew it opened up the flood-gates of his memories.

  I can still remember looking from the sidelines of the football field and seeing her in her cheerleading outfit. I only had eyes for her. And she made me feel as though I could conquer the world. Jesus, she used to say that I was her knight in shining armor and could rescue her from anything. How fuckin’ stupid I was to think that was true.

  Once in college, I never looked at another girl. Not with Suzy back home, waiting on me. Believing in me. I thought we could make it. I never thought of the possibility that we wouldn’t.

  Her words echoed in my mind when she pushed me out of her life. It got ugly. I was mad and she wouldn’t talk to me. Wouldn’t let me in. Wouldn’t let me help. She just pushed and pushed, until I climbed back into my old Explorer and headed out of town. Pissed. Angry. And…heartbroken.

  Pulling into the parking lot of his apartment building, he sat for a moment throwing his head back against the headrest. He had tried for four years to block out the pain of losing everything. Grimacing, he remembered how he had tried to block it out. Alcohol, frat parties, girls he couldn’t even remember their names or faces. Rubbing his hand across his face, he realized that while he was out trying to be a big man on campus, she was alone and grieving. Glancing in the rear view mirror, he thought, Time to man up. Time to get the girl back.

  Chapter 4

  The empty warehouse was beginning to fill up. The crowd was not as rowdy as they had been when the warehouses were along the riverfront. It was getting harder to find places that the cops would not check, but there were still some areas of the city that no one wanted to venture into. Unless they had a good reason. And the lure of making money was reason enough for some.

  The beer was selling along with the easy handoffs for drugs. Marcel stood on a platform high above the mass, scanning the area. His suit looked out of place but for a man in his position, nothing but Italian silk was good enough for him. A tall, exquisite blonde in a classic black dress stood next to him, close but not touching. She knew not to disturb unless he wanted to be touched. A possession was all she was and for the money he spent on her, it was worth it to put up with his rages. She watched him carefully for signs that he wanted her closer…or farther. Not watching for his signs would earn her an arm jerk. Or a slap across the face. Or something worse. She did not want to go back into his stable of women, so whatever he needed was what he would get.

  She had no worries on that account tonight though. Marcel was in a good mood. The crowd was growing and the money, drugs, and bets were flowing. He turned his head as another man approached.

  Without glancing at the woman, Jorge walked over to his boss making sure that Marcel knew he was coming. Known to slit the throat of anyone who came close without announcing themselves, Jorge approached Marcel carefully.

  “We’re good to go, boss. Is there anything you need?”

  “Not now. Charisse and I are going to be in the back. I’ll be out for the count when it’s over.”

  Jorge nodded and walked back down the stairs, passing the hulking guards at the bottom. They stepped aside as he moved between them, no words being spoken. Each man knew his duty and knew that Marcel ran a tight ship. There was no place for screw-ups. Those that did…the rumor was that the bodies were not found.

  Jorge dressed well, liking the feel and power that expensive clothes afforded him. He saw the looks a few of the hookers gave him as he walked by, but he ignored them completely. No skank pussy for him. His days of dipping his dick into Marcel’s stable was over. As Marcel’s right-hand man, he was paid well and lived well. He liked pussy and liked it often, but didn’t pay for it anymore. When he went out, ladies came up to him and saw prime cock. And he was willing to take them up on their offers.

  Jorge nodded to the men in charge of the fighting ring, indicating that they were allowed to start. The crowd moved closer to the pit, ready to cheer on the dogs they had bet on. He moved around the inner perimeter of the building, checking on the security and the money collectors. Watching them with hawk eyes, each money collector was assigned a rotating security man. Marcel wanted men in place that he could trust, but his trust only went so far. He utilized pairing his people in rotating shifts to keep them from arranging to pocket some of the take.

  Jorge blocked out the noises from the ring, immune to the sounds of the dogs tearing each other apart. It bothered him at one time, many years ago as a child growing up in the streets. But now, it was just another money-maker. And Marcel paid him well.

  As the blood lust flowed, he nodded to the head of Marcel’s stable and the women began to move through the group. Some men slid off, making sure to pay up front while others fucked on the bleachers. Occasionally several men would be so high on lust and drugs that they fou
ght each other to take one woman whether she wanted it or not. Jorge moved to a platform to see enough of what was going on to make sure there was at least chaotic order.

  As the crowd thinned out the security began walking through, moving the last of the stragglers out into the night as his workers quickly began disassembling the bloody ring. Several of the less used women were assisting those that were in poorer condition.

  Moving through the security wall around Marcel’s bookies, he collected the evening’s take before walking back up the stairs to his temporary office. Entering the room, simply furnished with a long table and a few chairs, he placed the money bags in the center of the table. Followed by four money counters, each with an assigned security man, they quietly begin to sort the bills and count. The money was independently counted by two of the men watched carefully by their security. Marcel’s accountant kept the running total and then presented Jorge with a final accounting.

  Looking at the total, Jorge knew that Marcel would be pleased. Not that he cared, but life was easier when the boss was in a good mood. He left the room after nodding to the head of security, indicating that the money could be taken to Marcel’s financial wizard. No one knew how he did it, but the money was appropriately laundered and Marcel’s legitimate businesses and off shore bank accounts grew respectively.

  Knocking on the door, he heard “Enter” called out and he moved into the room occupied by Marcel and Charisse. She was sitting on Marcel’s lap, her dress off of her shoulders exposing her bountiful breasts. She was a stunner, but Jorge kept his eyes off of her. Marcel looked up as Jorge entered and jerked his head at Charisse. She stood immediately and moved to the side. She left her dress around her waist, embarrassed but knowing that Marcel wanted immediate access and did not care who saw her.

  Jorge held the paper out to Marcel, seeing his eyes light with approval at the night’s total.

  “Good, good,” he said. Looking back up at Jorge, he asked, “Did everything go all right?”

  “It was fine, boss. Good crowd. Stayed under control. Women did a good business.”

  Nodding, Marcel expressed his pleasure. “Good job. Anything needed to be reported?”

  Jorge shook his head, “No, sir. Nothing that cannot wait until tomorrow.”

  At that, Marcel jerked his eyes up to Jorge. “Never wait on anything in our business. You should know that by now. Whatever seems minor now can blow up and kick us in the ass tomorrow. And I have no intentions of having my businesses kicked.”

  “Heard some talk. A few owners have been letting their dogs loose and there have been a few attacks on pets on the Mayfield side of town.”

  Marcel just lifted his eyebrow indicating his desire for Jorge to continue.

  “We know of at least two that have taken their pets to a vet clinic there. Just don’t want anyone snooping more than they should.”

  “Do we still have our pay-off live?”

  Jorge nodded. “Yes, sir. Got someone at the ER clinic there and someone at Animal Control.”

  Marcel sat silent for a moment, pondering his next move. Looking back up at his trusted right-hand man, he said, “Keep an eye on things. I want the owners watched. I want eyes on the clinic. And I want to know who the fuck has let their dogs loose. I don’t accept mistakes and someone will pay. If they can’t keep control of their dogs then they will find that no one will pay them to fight.”

  “Some of the owners let kids take care of their dogs. That may be part of the problem.”

  “Then let them know that if they want to fight in my clubs, they keep my business off the streets. Or…” he looked carefully into Jorge’s eyes, “I will make sure that there are no fuck-ups.”

  Nodding, Jorge acquiesced. “Anything else, boss?”

  “I want you spending time in the Mayfield area. I want to know the minute we may have a problem on our hands.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Smiling, Marcel glanced up at Charisse, knowing she wanted to cross her arms in front of her chest but wouldn’t. “Good girl, Charisse. You take orders beautifully. Perhaps one day we will see if your beautiful sister will take orders just a well,” Marcel continued with a sly smile. Keeping his eyes on her breasts he never noticed the flash of fear and anger that flew across her face.

  Jorge did noticed.

  Chapter 5

  The early morning light pierced through the blinds as Suzanne tried to focus her eyes. Glancing at the clock, she was jerked awake with the realization that she had overslept. Damn, I never do that. But then remembering her morose thoughts from the night before reminded her of how little sleep she had. Memories, never far from the surface, came slamming back. Memories of a happier, carefree time. Memories of uncertainty and fear. Memories of heartache and grief.

  No. I do not have time for this, she told herself as she scurried to the bathroom to get ready. Throwing on her kitten-print scrubs after a quick shower, she pulled her long hair into its usual ponytail and headed out of the door with a piece of toast in her hand. Jogging down the stairs, she entered the clinic just as Leon was walking toward the back.

  “Slow down girl,” he admonished. “You’re about to run me over.”

  “I overslept,” she gushed as she continued to run toward the surgery area to start the preps.

  Leon caught her arm as she flew by and gently pulled her back. Turning her so that he could peer into her eyes, he saw more than she wanted him to see.

  “Looks like someone didn’t sleep well last night,” he observed.

  “Must have been something I ate,” she mumbled looking down.

  “Honey, it feels like you haven’t been eating enough,” he said as he wrapped her in his embrace.

  Before she could respond, Annie came in from the front. “Hey, group hug without me?” Seeing Suzanne’s face, she asked, “Are you okay?”

  Pulling back, Suzanne plastered the smile on her face that they had seen so many times. The one that screamed, I’m fine, leave me alone.

  Knowing that nothing more would be coming, Annie and Leon moved away, each of the three getting ready for their day.

  * * *

  “Your cookies taste bad,” the little boy said as Suzanne brought his puppy back into the examining room.

  “Cookies?” she questioned as she set the puppy onto the table. Annie followed her in to talk to the mother about their dog.

  “Yeah, those,” he said pointing with a chubby finger to the jar of dog treats that were sitting on the counter.

  Suzanne and Annie shot each other a look, trying not to smile. “Well, um…those are for your puppy, not little boys.”

  “Oh my God,” the mother exclaimed, turning to her son. “You ate one of those?”

  “It’s okay,” Annie explained. “It can’t hurt him other than tasting bland.”

  The harried mother hustled her son out of the room with the puppy in tow when they had finished and Suzanne managed to hold on to her laughter until they had left the clinic.

  Several hours later the door to the clinic opened and a couple of boys came in with a bloodied dog. Leon called for Annie and she ran to the exam room. She and Leon quickly began to assess the dog as Suzanne tried to find out what had happened.

  “Please lady, can you fix Pepper?”

  “Where did you find him?”

  The older boy of about twelve looked grim, his mouth in a tight line. “He came crawling back home like that.” His dirty blond hair was messy, but his clothes were clean…except for some of the dog’s blood that had seeped through the towel that they had wrapped him in.

  The younger boy, tear streaks down his face, wiped his nose on his sleeve and said, “We couldn’t find him this morning. Pa said he was gone. Musta gotten sick and died.” This child had the same dirty blond hair like his brother, but still had the cherubic looks of youth.

  Wondering how much to tell the boys, she asked, “Where are your parents? Do they know you’re here?”

  “Nah. Momma’s gone to work and Pa�
�s sleepin’. He works nights.”

  “Well, you stay here and let me see what’s happening with your dog. Doc Annie is super good and she’ll see what she can do,” Suzanne assured although from the looks of the dog when she glanced at it before Leon took it, she knew it did not look good.

  She left the boys and went into the back room, where Annie and Leon were looking at the dog.

  Annie looked up saying, “What did you find out from the boys?”

  “They say it’s their dog and it was gone this morning. Said that their dad told them it had died but then it came crawling back this afternoon.”

  “Look at this,” Annie said, leaning over the dog whose shallow breathing was labored.

  Suzanne and Leon peered at the injured animal. “It looks like it’s been in a fight,” Suzanne exclaimed. “Just like the ones that have been attacked.”

  “Yes, but look at the older injuries. This dog has been in fights before.”

  “What do you think it means?” Suzanne asked. “Are these fighting dogs?”

  “I would say so,” Annie replied. “I’m going to have to put it down to end its suffering. Is there an adult with the boys?”

  “No, they said mom was at work and the dad was sleeping. I didn’t get the feeling that anyone at home cared except the boys.”

  Just then the dog took a shuddering breath and died.

  “Damn,” Leon cursed softly, smoothing the dogs ruffled fur.

  The three, each lost in their own thoughts for a moment, looked up knowing what needed to be done.

  “Suzanne, do you want to talk to the boys or call animal control?”

  Sighing deeply, she hesitated, tears in her eyes. Fuck. Why do things have to die before their time?

  Leon looked over then said, “I’ll talk to the boys. Annie you call animal control.”

  Annie agreed and left the area to go to the office. Leon headed to the front to let the boys know that their dog had passed. After a moment, Suzanne walked back up front and sat waiting with the boys, getting angrier by the minute.