Vengeance in Blood (Book 3): Reborn

by Watson, Thomas A.

  Wrapping her arms around his neck, “Kenneth, the rule of sunlight applies to us all. Any exertion like that can kill you,” Besseta told him, then kissed his forehead.

  Getting off the backseat, Tiffany leaned up and kissed the side of Kenneth’s head. “Don’t do that again,” she warned. “You burst blood vessels in your brain, using telekinetic powers in daylight.”

  Hearing a sharp smack, Besseta and Tiffany turned around as another smack sounded off. In the middle of the road with his pants around his ankles, the officer was standing bent over and smacking his bare ass hard with one hand. “There’s something you don’t see every day,” Besseta grinned, seeing the officer’s ass cheek getting red from the blows.

  Dropping back to her seat, “How did you know you could do that?” Tiffany asked.

  Shaking his head with his vision clearing up, “Didn’t,” Kenneth admitted. “At least, not until I tried putting my thoughts in his mind.”

  Releasing her hug, Besseta leaned back. “Baby, let me drive. We need to get away from ‘spanky’,” she grinned.

  “I can drive, baby,” he smiled with the blood drying on his face.

  Sliding back into her seat, Besseta glanced over as Kenneth looked in the mirror as he pulled back on the road. Putting her seatbelt on, Besseta picked the dogs up out of the floorboard. “Promise me you won’t do that again?”

  “Nope,” Kenneth said as they left the scene.

  Besseta stomped her foot hard in the floorboard. “I mean it,” she huffed. “I’ll find that bitch, skin her, and roll her in salt if you don’t.”

  Sighing as he slumped his shoulders, “Fine, then,” Kenneth surrendered. “I won’t do it again in daylight,” he added under his breath.

  “Baby,” Besseta said, narrowing her eyes.

  Kenneth hit the steering wheel. “Damn it, I know you heard what he was thinking.”

  “Yes, I did,” Besseta said. “What I didn’t hear in his thoughts, I heard from you reading his mind.”

  Glancing over, “And you have a problem with what I did?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “He is just a man and that is normal fantasies for most. You can’t kill people for that. Now, for acting on them, yes. Otherwise, we aren’t much better than the scum out there.”

  Looking away, “That officer has done evil,” Kenneth said, watching the road.

  Besseta smiled as she reached over, patting his leg. “Taking bribes isn’t that bad, baby.”

  Not taking his eyes off the road, Kenneth slumped in his seat. “It’s not really fair that you can hear everything in my mind,” he huffed.

  “Only what you don’t block,” Besseta laughed and then stopped, looking over at Kenneth. “No, we aren’t going back,” she said, raising her voice after listening to Kenneth’s mind. “I’m yours, so quit it,” she snapped.

  “Kenneth,” Tiffany called out from the back. “Use your voice when I’m around. I like hearing both sides of the conversation.”

  “Fine,” Kenneth said, leaning over on the door and propping his arm up. They both smiled as he pouted.

  Seeing a small town ahead, Kenneth slowed and Besseta looked around. “Stop over there,” she commanded, pointing at a small store.

  Not arguing, Kenneth pulled up to the curb and Besseta jumped out. As she closed the door, Kenneth saw it was a sporting goods store. “They don’t sell booze,” he mumbled.

  A few minutes later, Besseta came out carrying a bag. After she climbed in, “Take that shirt off,” she said, reaching into the bag and pulling out a blue polo shirt.

  Looking down, Kenneth saw the front of his shirt was stained in dried blood. Sighing as he took it off, “You ashamed to be seen with me like this?”

  “Hardly,” Besseta said, taking the shirt from him and giving him the new one after she’d taken the tags off. “We don’t like attracting attention.”

  Pulling on the shirt and tucking it in, Kenneth looked over to see Besseta wetting a rag with a bottle of water. “What all did you buy?” he asked as she leaned over, wiping his face and cleaning off the blood.

  “Several shirts, water, rags, and I saw two puppy sweaters that should fit Jack and Jill,” she said, finished cleaning off his face.

  “Really?” Tiffany said, leaning forward.

  Digging in the bag, Besseta pulled out two small doggie sweaters. One pink with ‘I’m bad’ written in black, and the other black with ‘Tough Guy’ written in white. “See if they fit,” Besseta said, handing them back.

  Kenneth pulled back onto the road, looking for a liquor store as Tiffany dressed up Jack and Jill. “Oh, they look so cute!” Tiffany said, holding them up.

  Seeing a truck stop ahead with a liquor store beside it, Kenneth pulled up to the pumps and turned the car off. “We need gas?” Besseta asked, looking out at the pumps.

  “We’ve been driving for hours at some pretty fast speeds,” Kenneth said, getting out.

  Besseta looked back at Tiffany. “Let’s take the dogs over there, so they can use the bathroom.”

  As they got out, Kenneth was shoving the nozzle into the fuel tank. Besseta kissed him as she put Bonnie and Clyde down. Seeing grass, the two took off and started prancing around as Besseta and Tiffany walked over. Putting Jack and Jill down, Tiffany looked over at Besseta. “How come Kenneth only gets the expensive fuel?”

  “He says, cars like it better,” Besseta shrugged, watching Clyde tackle Bonnie, then Jack and Jill jumped on his back.

  Nodding, but not really understanding, Tiffany turned to watch the dogs play. “We can’t let him do that anymore in daylight,” she said in a low voice. “He’s lucky to have lived through it.”

  Giving a loud scoff, “Humph, it’s not like we can make him stop,” Besseta said.

  Placing her hand on Besseta’s arm, “Yes, we can,” Tiffany said. “He doesn’t even know what he can do, and under a high noon sun on a clear day isn’t the best time to try it,” Tiffany told her, pointing up at the sky. “I can’t do that and neither can you, so he was just bulling his way through.”

  “So, you think we should knock him out?” Besseta asked, looking up at Tiffany.

  Nodding, “If we must,” Tiffany said.

  Crossing her arms over her chest as she looked back at the dogs playing, “I really don’t want to deck my husband,” Besseta admitted.

  “Even if it will save his life? Like I said, he was close to death. If he hadn’t stopped, he would’ve died,” Tiffany said.

  Closing her eyes as she nodded, “Then I’ll break his face,” Besseta vowed.

  Happy to hear that, Tiffany looked back at Kenneth closing the gas tank. “He can’t stop me, but if I do have to hit Kenneth, don’t let him make me strip and spank my own ass,” Tiffany said, grinning.

  “That was good,” Besseta giggled. “Bonnie, Clyde come on,” she called, and they came running, followed by Jack and Jill. After everyone was back in the car, Kenneth pulled over to the liquor store, backing up to the door.

  Beside the parking space Kenneth was backing into, were seven men leaning on motorcycles with two trashy-looking women. The group stopped talking when Kenneth backed up. As Kenneth got out, one of the men called out, “Nice car.”

  “Thank you,” Kenneth said with a fake smile, hearing the thoughts of the group. When Besseta and Tiffany got out, the group whistled and made several catcalls. ‘Don’t, baby,’ Besseta said in his mind.

  Walking to the door of the liquor store, Kenneth held the door open for Besseta and Tiffany. As the two walked in, one of the bikers walked over, wearing only a leather vest open to expose his tattooed chest and belly. “I don’t think I was finished talking with you,” he said.

  Letting the door go and not stepping inside, Kenneth looked the man over. The biker was a head taller than Kenneth and outweighed him by an easy hundred pounds. With a shaved head and a braided goatee that extended to his chest, the biker folded his massive arms over his chest. Three tattooed teardrops were below his right eye and
like the biker’s chest; the arms were sleeved out in tats.

  With a look of indifference on his face, “Well, what else do you have to say, cue ball?” Kenneth asked. The group with the biker stopped laughing, hearing the disrespect.

  The biker dropped his arms and balled up his fists as the door opened and Besseta stepped out. “Kenneth, enough playing,” she snarled, stepping beside him.

  With a grin, the biker snorted at her as Kenneth raised his hand and pointed at the biker. “Bow before me and stay there,” he commanded and Besseta heard the roar in Kenneth’s mind turn hollow. The grin fell off the biker’s face as he dropped to his knees and bowed, holding his arms out. “Good boy,” Kenneth said, wrapping his arm around Besseta and opening the door.

  “What about ‘not in daylight’ don’t you understand?” Besseta asked as he led her into the store.

  “It was either that or I was going to kill them,” he said, walking over to the counter and looking at the clerk. She was a young woman, looking out the window at the biker still bowing with his friends coming over. “Ma’am, we need two cases of Grey Goose vodka, a case of Ketel One vodka if you have it, a case of Macallan eighteen year old, a case of Remy Martin, a case of Hendrick’s gin, and a case of Don Julio,” he said, staring at the young clerk.

  Shaking her head and taking her eyes off the commotion outside, “Huh?” she asked, and Kenneth repeated his list, making the girl stumble back. “Sir, that’s quite a list and very expensive,” she said, grabbing a pen and writing down the list.

  Impressed the clerk knew that, Kenneth smiled. “Yes, but we only like the best,” he said, reaching for his wallet. “May I use the restroom while you gather that, and we look around for anything else?”

  Looking up from her list, “Sorry, the bathroom is for employees only,” she said with a long face.

  Pulling out a hundred, “I understand,” he said, putting the bill on the counter. “Can I use it in your place right now?”

  Taking the hundred, “The door behind you opens to a hall, first door on your right,” she nodded with a smile, shoving the bill in her pocket.

  Leaning over, Kenneth kissed a stunned Besseta. “I’ll be right back,” he said, walking to the door. Stepping into the bathroom he sighed with relief, seeing no windows. Even though the fluorescent lights didn’t hurt, Kenneth turned them off, wanting darkness as he felt his body getting stronger. Reaching up, he wiped his nose and looked at his hand, noticing a small drop of blood.

  Even in total darkness, he had no trouble seeing and turned on the sink carefully, then Kenneth looked into the mirror. “No crow’s feet,” he mumbled, leaning closer to the mirror and looking at the corners of his eyes. “I feel kind of cheated, I earned those,” he said to himself as he splashed water on his face, still looking in the mirror.

  The red streaks and blood in the whites of his eyes slowly disappeared while he watched. “Now that, I like,” he smiled at himself in the mirror. Still able to hear the thoughts of the group outside, Kenneth took a deep breath, talking to himself and trying to block them out. He’d never had trouble controlling his emotions before but now, he fought the urge to go outside and rip the group apart.

  “People need to leave me the fuck alone,” he grumbled, grabbing a handful of paper towels and wiping his face. “If Besseta ever finds out how weak that damn state trooper made me, she will break my face.” Stepping back from the sink, he just leaned against the wall, feeling the strength continue to return to his body.

  Closing his eyes and enjoying the feeling of his body getting stronger, “Never thought I would say this, but I’m really not liking daytime anymore,” he admitted as a soft knock sounded on the door before it opened. “Hey, baby,” he said as Besseta slipped into the dark bathroom.

  “You okay?” she asked with worry on her face as she reached up, caressing his cheek.

  Nodding as he ran his fingers through her hair, “Feeling much better,” he smiled.

  Wrapping her arms around him, “At least you knew to find a room that sunlight can’t reach,” she said, burying her face in his chest. “The clerk is freaking out. I found a bottle of Macallan M Decanter Highland in a display case and added it. I think that five-thousand-dollar bottle has been there since the store opened.”

  “Always wanted to try that one,” Kenneth said, stroking her hair.

  Looking up at Kenneth’s face, “Yes, I will break your face, if you do that again,” she said with tears in her eyes. “I felt how weak you got, baby. You were struggling to breathe.”

  Hugging her tight, “I honestly didn’t know it would do that to me,” he told her, feeling his body almost back to normal. “Let’s go,” he said, letting Besseta go. “Tiffany is freaking the clerk out, asking for wines she doesn’t have and hasn’t heard of.”

  They walked back into the store to find two men, one old and one young, stacking cases near the register. Tiffany was at the counter arguing with the clerk. “Sorry, ma’am, but those are all the wines we have,” the young clerk told her.

  Kenneth walked over to the corner of the store and Besseta walked over, pulling Tiffany away from the counter, “Oh, but you have a whole shelf of that nasty Tennessee whiskey,” Tiffany called over her shoulder at the clerk.

  “Tiffany, we’ll need to go to a large city to get those wines,” Besseta told Tiffany, leading her down an aisle. “Would you get me two of those?” she asked, pointing at some bottles on the top shelf.

  “This Polish vodka,” Tiffany clarified, pulling down two bottles.

  Nodding and taking the bottles, “Yes, I like it,” Besseta said as the old man who was stacking boxes came over to them.

  “Young lady, you need to let her hold those,” he said, looking at Besseta and pointing at Tiffany. “She doesn’t look much older than you and in fact, both of you need to let that man hold them.”

  Shaking her head, “I’m over twenty-one,” Besseta said, narrowing her eyes.

  Not believing her, “Young lady, I would be surprised if you were out of junior high, much less high school,” he chuckled.

  Pulling out her license and holding it up to the man’s face, “I may be little, but I’m over twenty-one,” she snapped.

  The old man took the license. “I’ll be. If it’s fake, it’s the best one I’ve ever seen,” he mumbled. “Sorry,” he said, handing the license back. “I was wondering if I should call the cops. A middle-aged man bringing in two young girls and loading up on liquor raises some eyebrows.”

  Putting her license up, “I’m not that young and I can buy this town if I wanted,” Besseta huffed, not liking being reminded how little she was. “That ‘man’ is my husband.”

  The old man raised his hands. “I’m sorry if I offended you, ma’am,” he said, then held out his hands. “Want me to put those with the others?”

  “Thank you,” Besseta said, handing over the bottles.

  As the man walked off, Tiffany leaned over. “That is wrong, putting an age requirement on alcohol. They should put an IQ requirement,” Tiffany suggested. “I drank beer that my father made before I could walk.”

  “Shit, I drank mead before I had my first glass of tea,” Besseta huffed, pulling Tiffany down the aisle. They grabbed several other bottles as Kenneth walked over, carrying a box of cigars. “I didn’t know you smoked,” Besseta said, looking at the box.

  “Never have, but since it can’t hurt me now, I want to have one with a drink,” Kenneth smiled.

  “It may not hurt you, but I can,” Besseta told him. “The smoke makes me sick.”

  Turning around, “I’ll put them back,” he said.

  Lunging, Besseta grabbed his arm. “No, but if they make me sick, you’ll have to smoke them outside,” she said, smiling.

  Holding up the box of Cohiba cigars, “Mickey always wanted to smoke one of these,” Kenneth said. “Six hundred dollars for ten, these damn things better not make anyone sick.”

  With Besseta on his right and Tiffany on his left, they headed
back to the counter as Tiffany wrapped her arm in Kenneth’s. “I always preferred pipe smoke,” she smiled, setting her bottles on the counter.

  Kenneth put the box of cigars on the counter as Besseta set her bottles down. “What’s the total?” Kenneth asked, pulling out his wallet.

  The clerk was looking out the window at the bikers, standing around the big one still bowing. “Sir, I think we need to call the police before you leave,” she said.

  “Nonsense,” Kenneth said, walking to the door. Besseta sighed and followed him. Kenneth pushed open the door and the bikers standing around the bowing figure, jumped behind their buddy still bowing. “Cueball, get up,” Kenneth snapped, and he jumped up on his feet with a blank stare.

  With Besseta beside him, Kenneth stared at the other bikers with a malevolent grin. “Cueball, if one of them say one word to us, kill them,” Kenneth said in a carefree voice. “If any of them ever talk or ask about us ever, kill them. Now, all of you leave,” he said, stepping back and grabbing the door.

  One of the other bikers stepped up and Besseta raised her hand. “I wouldn’t, little boy,” she warned. “Your only saving grace is the sun is up now. If you would like to meet us after dark, then by all means, speak. I will make an effort to find you and I always find who I’m looking for.”

  Cueball turned around and strolled over, pushing the group toward the bikes, “Get on now before I kill you,” he growled. The group jumped on their bikes as Kenneth and Besseta stepped back inside the store.

  “I don’t even want to know who you are,” the old man said.

  Kenneth smiled. “You have nothing to fear from us,” he said, pulling his wallet back out.

  “Fourteen thousand, six hundred and seventy-one dollars,” the young clerk said.

  Pulling out a credit card, Kenneth laid it on the counter, “Here you go.”

  Slowly taking the card, “It’s going to clear with that amount?” she asked shocked.

  “I have cash, if you prefer,” Kenneth said, making her jump back and drop the credit card. Giggling, Besseta trotted to the door and ran out to the car as the bikers pulled out of the parking lot.