Broken Dreams

by Rissa Blakeley

  Two female voices caught his attention. He looked down the aisle toward the register. There were two younger women standing there, chatting. One was a sleek, black-haired woman, who Henry pegged at maybe twenty-one. The other was a ginger-haired, pale, innocent-looking woman. He figured they were approximately the same age since they seemed tight.

  The black-haired beauty was leaning over the counter, which gave him the perfect view of her profile. She had the meaty ass that Henry loved so much. He pictured himself grabbing onto it while fucking her against the wall. He shook his head. Back to work, he thought.

  Henry continued his slow progression down the aisle, pretending to look at more books, while he tuned into their conversation.

  “I left the bar because this douchebag was hitting on me. I get twenty feet away and I realized he was following me down the street!”

  “You went out alone?! Are you insane?!” The ginger-haired woman screeched.

  “Well, that wasn’t my original intention. I was supposed to meet my brother to have a couple beers and discuss my parent’s party, but you know how he is. The next notch on his bedpost called and he ditched his sweet sister.” Henry smirked, while flipping through a book. He liked her tone…sarcastic and quite funny.

  “So what happened?” The ginger sounded annoyed.

  “So, this douchebag was heavy footing it behind me. I turned around and waited until he was close enough for me to kick him in the tomatoes and knee him in the face.” He was impressed that she wasn’t the type to scream and run away. She faced shit head-on. Brilliant.

  “Holy moly! You are so lucky that you didn’t get hurt, or worse! That was beyond foolish.” The ginger crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  “When you have guns like these,” she kissed her biceps, “and when you have this kind of attitude…” She put her hands on her hips and smiled.

  “Elaina, you have got to be more careful. There are all sorts of crazy people out there! You never know who or what you will run in to!”

  Henry knew the ginger wouldn’t be right for his purposes. She was too worrisome and mother hen-like. He needed someone who was carefree and who did a little less thinking before they acted. Someone like that black-haired beauty.

  God, he wanted to take her over that counter.

  “It’s fine.” She swatted her hand toward the ginger.

  “What happens if he sees you again?” Henry had a sudden urge to filet the cock-face with his favorite long-bladed hunting knife.

  “Meh…” The ginger sighed at her reaction. “You worry far too much, Claire.” He smiled. Could she be any more perfect?

  “Anyway.” The ginger looked at her watch. “I have to pick up Marc. He needs to drop his car off at the shop for something or other.”

  “All right. Laters, hooker.”

  The ginger turned around with a quirked brow. “Anyway…” She sighed, adding a heavy eye roll. “You be careful!” The ginger pointed at the black-haired beauty in an aggressive manner.

  “Okay, Mom!” she shouted as the ginger scoffed and left the store.

  Henry put the book he had pretended to be interested in back on the shelf and started to walk closer to the register. The closer he got to her, the more he was taken by her raw beauty. He scanned the rest of her body with a few quick glances when she turned and faced the other direction. She seemed fit, and he felt an ache deep within. He wanted to touch her face and feel how soft her skin was under his icy cold hands.

  He approached the counter with caution, still scanning the store. She turned around and she took his breath away. “Jesus Christ…” he said under his breath.

  “I’m sorry?” He jumped a little when she spoke. Her voice was sexy, raw, and raspy.

  “Nothing. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and set the stack of books on the counter.

  “You ready to check out?” She gently smiled at him. Holy fuck, she had a beautiful smile. It made his heart race.

  “Uh, yeah. Please.” She grabbed the stack of books and took a peek at what he had.

  “Buying for your girlfriend?” She smirked with a raised brow.

  “Uh, yeah. Yeah, for her birthday.” Henry took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “I don’t get her desire to read that stuff.” The black-haired beauty nodded.

  “This one for you?” she asked as she scanned the art history book.

  “Yeah. Always had an interest in it.”

  Once again, she flashed him a gentle smile. “I love art history.”

  “You’re not flirting with the customers again, are you?” They both jumped. A middle-aged woman scowled as she scooted behind the counter.

  “What? No! Geez!” She was angered by the comment. Henry slyly smirked as he pulled the cash out of his wallet, instead of pulling out his fancy black credit card. He didn’t want her to see his name since he was trying to keep a low profile. She gave him his change, handed him the receipt, and he left the store without another glance.

  She was on top of his list, for more reasons than one. All that was left to do was to watch her from afar to figure out the right time to introduce himself. Henry walked around the block, hopped in his company-issue blacked-out Chevrolet Tahoe, and headed off to work.

  ***

  “Morning, bossman,” Jennifer said in her usual singsong voice as he walked in the doors.

  “Jennifer.” Henry nodded at his receptionist as he walked by. “Any calls?”

  “We need to set up a transfer to St. Francis. They are getting low on ‘O’ and ‘A’.”

  “Alright. Thanks.” Henry marched into his office.

  Once he stepped into his office, he closed the door and locked it. He hung his hat on one hook on the back of the door, then peeled off his hoodie, placing it on the other hook. Everything was is in its proper place.

  Henry’s office was the typical bright white office. He found it obnoxious on those mornings when he knew he should have left the bar hours and several drinks before he had.

  The furniture was all light gray, streamlined, and neat as a pin. For once in his life, he would love to be able to have a book or a piece of paper out of place. But, because of his training, it was nearly impossible to allow himself to do that.

  He rolled his neck, realizing that he needed his fix.

  Henry was the only one with the combination to the lock on his mini-fridge. His employees were clueless as to what it held. They just thought he was paranoid that someone would take his drinks or food.

  He turned the dial with precision and opened the fridge. He shuddered, knowing what he was about to do. Then he unlocked his bottom desk drawer and pulled out the near empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. His eyes glanced over at the cool piece of steel that laid beside it.

  “Fuck me,” he grumbled. He had forgotten to grab another bottle before he left his place that morning. He popped the tops off the vials and tipped them back. In one swift move, he opened the bottle of alcohol and drained what was left. Nothing like a lifeline with a whiskey chaser.

  Henry sat back in his chair for a moment, waiting for his muscles and joints to free up. He took a few deep breaths. Suddenly, erotic thoughts drove hard through his tainted brain, the black-haired beauty at the bookshop being the star. He closed his eyes, envisioning mounting her, grabbing her ass, and letting go. He wanted to make her come around him, over and over again. He wanted to hear her scream out his name. He felt a stirring in his body.

  “Shit.” His jeans tightened, causing him discomfort. He got up and adjusted himself. “Fuck.” He knew his hard-on wasn’t going to go away so he went to his bathroom. He decided to relieve himself and just be done with it.

  Henry closed and locked the bathroom door. Two locked doors were better than one. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and he felt better with a little freedom. He began the annoying process. Stroking slow, but firm, grasping tight on the tip for an extra burst of pleasure. God, what he wouldn’t give to be fucking that girl right in that moment. He loo
ked down at his veiny, rigid self.

  Most women that he had sex with were pleased with his performance, but there he was, jerking off in his office bathroom. Fucking loser, he thought. His breathing became ragged. He choked back a moan, grabbing a couple paper towels as he grew closer to the end. He bit down on his bottom lip, his body convulsed, and his eyes rolled as he exploded into the towels. He stood still, leaning up against the wall for a second, rattled from his peak.

  Henry tossed the towels away, zipped up his fly, and washed up. After making the necessary calls to the hospital, he left his office and began taking inventory of what would be transferred. Back to work, as usual.

  ***

  The next morning, Henry arrived at the gym and scanned his card at the door. Geoff, Henry’s usual kickboxing partner and personal trainer, was behind the counter. He happened to be the owner, as well.

  “What’s going on, my brother?” He was about Henry’s age and a little bigger than him but, due to all of his training in the program, Henry was far superior in the ring.

  He felt Geoff would make good alliance material. He was tough as nails, strong as a bull, and was easily influenced. Exactly what he was looking for.

  “Nothing much.”

  “Looking for an ass whooping this morning?” Geoff grinned.

  “I was about to ask you the same thing.” They chuckled. “I’m going to go warm up on the treadmill for a few. Tap me when you’re ready.” Henry grabbed his favorite treadmill. He had a perfect view out the front windows and the televisions hanging from the ceiling. Not that he cared what was on TV, but it gave him something to focus on while he was pounding his Nike’s on the belt. It was a rare occasion when he watched the thing. He was more of a movie person.

  Henry grabbed a towel, but before he even started the treadmill, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked around to tell Geoff to give him a few, but it wasn’t him. It was Mike, another member at the gym. The only member that had portrayed the annoying asshole role exceptionally well.

  “Can I help you?” Mike wasn’t the friendly sort so Henry wasn’t looking forward to having a conversation with him. He had more muscles than personality.

  Mike watched Henry a lot, as if he was studying him. Which made him a little uncomfortable, but Henry did the same to everyone else, looking for more alliances. This guy was simply an asshole.

  “You’re on my treadmill,” he growled.

  “I’m sorry.” Henry looked around for a second. “I don’t see your name on it anywhere.” He added an eye roll for good measure. Henry turned around and hit the start button.

  Just as he hit full stride, he saw Mike’s hand snake around and yank out the safety key. Luckily, Henry was quick enough to catch himself on the bars.

  “What the fuck is your problem?!” Henry yelled as he spun around to face him.

  “I said, you’re on my treadmill. Now, I expect you to get off of it, pretty boy.”

  “Fuck off.” Henry turned back around. He took enough shit in training. He wasn’t going to take any shit while he was just warming up.

  “What’s the issue over here?” Geoff addressed Mike as he approached.

  “Nothing, I guess.” Mike started to walk away, as did Geoff. Henry chuckled. Then, without pause, Mike turned around, grabbed Henry by his arm, and swung him off the treadmill. He slammed him onto the floor, back first.

  The fall knocked the wind out of him, but he had fought with broken limbs, concussions, and blindfolds hundreds of times so it was no big fucking deal.

  Henry realized that he had blood trickling down the side of his temple. He must have hit his head on the treadmill when he went down.

  Mike got in a few punches to his face before Henry shifted into program mode. He flipped Mike over and wrapped his hand around his throat, choking the life out of him. Geoff heard the commotion and made a beeline for them.

  “Henry! Let go!” Geoff was pulling on his arm, but his grip was so strong that nothing could pry him off. “Henry! Come on, man! Shit! Vanessa! Call 911!”

  After several attempts to pry his fingers from Mike’s throat, Geoff finally got him to let go. Mike was gasping for air, and had pissed his pants. Geoff grabbed Henry and pulled him to his office.

  “You stay here! I will be back.” Henry sat down in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. He rubbed his face and discovered that he had blood all over his hands.

  “Shit.” He felt around, looking for the source of blood, and remembered hitting his head somewhere around his temple area. He growled when he touched the spot.

  The door swung open several minutes later and there was Geoff, along with an EMT. He dropped Henry’s backpack on the floor next to him. “He’s going to check you out real quick. He only has a few seconds. The other EMT is wrapping up Mike.” Henry nodded. The EMT looked over his head wound.

  “Hmmm…just a small gash. I would suggest that you get it stitched up and get checked for a concussion, but I can’t transport you. We need to transport the other guy.” The EMT left the office in haste. Geoff handed him a towel for his wound.

  “What the fuck was that? Did you snap or something?” Henry shook his head, while pressing a towel to the gash. “Your face was blank. It was fucking mental, brother.”

  “I’m sorry. He just took me by surprise and I retaliated. He yanked me off the treadmill after you walked away.” Geoff stood with his hands on his hips, frowning.

  “Are you some fucking bionic man or something? How the hell did you do that? The EMT’s think you crushed his larynx. They had to trach him.” Henry shut his eyes for a second, wishing he hadn’t done what he did.

  “Christ. I didn’t mean for that to happen. He fucking attacked me, though. Let’s just say my self-defense training goes far deeper than you realize.”

  “Remind me not to piss you off.”

  “Suppose I need to find another gym.” Henry sighed, feeling sick about what had unfolded.

  “No. You’re cool. He’s the one who initiated things and attacked you. The way I look at it, you were defending yourself. It may have been a little over the top, but…meh. We’re cool. I’m revoking Mike’s membership, though. This wasn’t his first scuffle here. Police will be here soon so sit tight. I’m going to get you a wet cloth so can clean up your head some.”

  “Fuck me. Just what I need.”

  Geoff patted Henry on the shoulder. “Relax. It’ll be fine. Let me do most of the talking.” Henry nodded. What Geoff didn’t realize was that Henry could talk himself out of most situations, but he was going to allow Geoff to do most of the talking this time.

  Henry grabbed his phone out of his backpack.

  “New York Blood Bank.”

  “Jennifer. It’s Henry.”

  “Hey, bossman! What’s going on? Will you be running late today?”

  Henry sighed. “You could say that. I’m in a bit of a pickle right now. I may not be in until later, if at all. Are Steve and Sandy both in?”

  “Yeah. Why? What’s going on?” She sounded genuinely concerned. She adored Henry and enjoyed working for him.

  “I kind of got into a fight at the gym.”

  “What? What do you mean kind of? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I need a few stitches, but I fared much better than the other guy. He’s on the way to the hospital.”

  “Jesus.”

  “If you are the praying type, you might want to. Anyway, the transport will be in later today, around three. If I’m not in by then, go ahead and sign off on the paperwork. I have it all separated and labeled in cooler number one. If there are any issues, please call me. I will do my best to get back to you...depending on where I am.” He worried that he would be in an orange jumpsuit within the next couple hours.

  “All right, bossman.” Geoff and a police officer walked into the office. Geoff handed Henry a wet cloth.

  “I’ve got to go. I will call you and let you know if I will be coming in.”

  “Alright. Take care.” Henry hit
the END CALL button and sat back in the chair, pressing the wet cloth to his temple.

  The officer proceeded to ask Henry and Geoff what happened, asking him if he would be pressing charges against Mike for the initial attack. Henry declined. The officer gave him fair warning to control his temper. He also said that he may be charged, depending on the outcome of Mike’s condition.

  The officer left and Henry breathed a small sigh of relief. Even though he was a smooth talker, he had still worried that he would be leaving the gym in handcuffs, which would fuck up everything for him. He really hoped that he wouldn’t hear about the situation ever again.

  “My aunt is an ER doctor,” Geoff said. “I gave her a call. She said she would be willing to come down and stitch up your head so you don’t have to go to the hospital.”

  “That would be great. Thanks.” At least that was a relief.

  Once Geoff’s aunt stitched up Henry’s head, he headed home. He sat down on the dark gray couch in his apartment, cursing at himself for losing control. After examining his blood-stained hands, he knew he was going to need a fix soon to combat the blood loss. He decided he needed to shower and head to the office.

  ***

  Henry walked into the blood bank and Jennifer gasped as soon as she saw him. He didn’t think he looked that bad when he checked his mug in the mirror before he left his apartment. He had a few light bruises but, considering his perspective on injuries, his condition was no big deal.

  “Oh my! You look like a wreck.” She stood up. The few donors that were in the waiting area watched the exchange.

  “Thanks. I got a couple of stitches.” He pointed at his temple. “Luckily, my epic hair should hide them until I can get them removed.” He sported the disheveled hair with ease.

  “Christ! Are you okay, for real? You should just go home. We have it all handled.”

  “I just came in to grab a few things, then I’m getting some food and heading home.”