Green Eyed Burn

by David A. Lloyd

  Catherine smiled and wheeled her chair around. “Merci. Coming from you that means a lot.” She straddled the chair backwards and sat down. “But I stopped going to the club.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Large muscles were all they cared about. I’m not into that. I started bodybuilding as an added dimension of my feminine identity, not to fabricate myself into a little man.”

  Bonita smiled knowingly. “I see. How very passionate of you.”

  Catherine cocked an eyebrow and smiled. Then they were both silent for a long moment.

  “What’s on your mind, Bonita?” Catherine finally asked.

  “You and St. James. She is screwing with you. I told her you are not emotionally prepared to return to the field.”

  “I know she is and I know I’m not. What can I do?”

  “I’m waiting for you to knock her on her ass one of these days.”

  Catherine grinned. “Me too.”

  “It may be sooner than you think.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “She brought us up again.”

  “Merde! That’s none of her business.”

  “That’s what I told her. Money and power, it does strange things to people. Did you know I was present during your conversation about Mr. Riel?”

  Catherine leaned forward. “No, I didn’t.”

  “She didn’t want you to know. After that we argued about your fitness to return to duty and I stormed out of her office. I later realized I forgot my valise and walked in on her just before she left for Ottawa.”

  “And…?”

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  “She was shredding a file.”

  Catherine, knowing the answer, waited for Bonita to continue.

  “I just caught part of the label. It was your file, Cathy.”

  “Mine?” Catherine’s eyes widened. That was not what she suspected.

  “What the hell is she doing?”

  The doctor stood up. “I don’t know and this didn’t come from me.”

  “I understand,” Catherine said absently stroking her eyebrows.

  “One more thing,” Bonita said as turned and placed her hand on the door knob. “The blood tests came back.”

  Catherine’s head bobbed up, “Oui?”

  “You’re both negative.”

  Catherine blew out a breath, “Oh God, merci.” She then realized—“Both?”

  Bonita looked at Catherine, “You didn’t know. He didn’t tell you?”

  Catherine leapt to her feet, “Tell me what?”

  The Doctor removed her glasses and wiped them clean with the corner of her lab coat.

  “Oh Johnny. Why didn’t you tell me?” Catherine whispered.

  “He doesn’t know the test results yet. I think you should go and see him. He probably needs someone to talk to right about now. I’m sure it will do you both some good.”

  “Oui, but what about St. James?”

  “Fuck her,” Bonita replied with a seething bitterness in her tone. Catherine flinched at the doctor’s comment. It was a well known secret in Special Operations that there was no lost love between the two. St. James had tried several times to have Yen-ping transferred, but has been constantly refused. Catherine suspected St. James was uncomfortable around her and Bonita. Sylvia had never liked lesbians.

  Bonita, who had never raised her voice to any of her staff, had been seen in screaming matches with St. James. The doctor once said the reason St. James was always in a foul mood was because someone had dropped a house on her sister.

  “Are you sure?” Catherine asked.

  “Only three people are on tonight. I’ll see that they’re all preoccupied.”

  “Thank you, Bonita.”

  She avoided Catherine’s eyes, “You and Mr. Riel, are you…?”

  “Something.”

  “I… am happy for you, Cathy.” She gave Catherine’s hand a gentle squeeze and left the office.

  For a long time Catherine stood alone and pulled her thoughts together. 133

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  The angry man squatting in the dark room seethed. His mind was aflame with rage, hate, fury. He looked up at the man in the room across from his. The other man had just explored his nostrils and was closely inspecting his discoveries.

  “Fool,” the first man hissed. Soon they will come and get me the fuck out of here and revenge will be mine.

  He smiled and a diamond glinted in the light.

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  The orange-red sun had already dropped from the sky when Catherine slipped back into the apartment. “Johnny?” she said softly into the encroaching dusk.

  “Yes?”

  Catherine followed his voice and found him sitting in the fading light staring out at the city. “What are you doing?”

  “Thinking. You?”

  “Taking ten.” She sat down and took his hand in hers. “What are you thinking about?”

  John did not look at her. “Life. The future, the past….” Catherine sensed he wanted to say more but could not. Then after a moment he continued,

  “You know you’re the only one I’ve ever let call me that.”

  “Call you what?”

  “‘Johnny’; I’ve always hated that name.”

  “Do you want me to stop?” she asked, watching him closely.

  “No… I like the way you say it.”

  “We have to talk,” Catherine said and gently squeezed his hand, “about what happened.”

  “No. No, we don’t.”

  “You just can’t ignore what happened.”

  “I’m not ignoring what happened. I’m dealing with it in my own way.”

  “You don’t want to talk?”

  “No… I… thank you.”

  Catherine shifted her weight on the couch. “There’s something else.”

  “You’re leaving,” John said.

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  “Oui.”

  Her eyes dropped to the floor as John stood and crossed to the window.

  “Then, I guess, this is goodbye?” I’ve heard those words spoken to me not long ago.

  “Non,” Catherine said quickly, “No, this is not goodbye.” She was suddenly at his side, “Please, never say goodbye. I… I’ve had too many.”

  For the first time since she entered the apartment, John looked at her. His eyes softened, but his voice was strong, “I love you, Catherine.”

  Their lips met warmly.

  “Beau morceau,” John whispered and pinched her backside. Catherine’s eyes widened, “Parlez-vous francais?”

  “Quelques mots.”

  “What else do you know?”

  “That’s it.”

  Catherine laughed. It was like music to John’s ears. Their eyes met again and they knew it was time.

  John reached down and gently scooped her up in his arms. “I fell in love with you,” he said softly, “the first moment I saw you, I knew.” Catherine nuzzled his shoulder and kissed his neck as John carried her and gently sat her down on the edge of the bed. She tucked her legs beneath her as he took her chin in his hand and looked deep into her glistening eyes, “It’s with all my heart and soul.”

  Catherine took his hands in hers and led him down to his knees. She combed her fingers through his hair and kissed him softly on the lips. “You have to know something about me first,” Catherine said gently. “Long ago I swore I would never let any man have my heart. Only one man has gotten close to me since I’ve made that vow, and he hurt me.” She placed her first two fingers gently on his cheek and glided them across to his lips. “But no man has ever made me feel this way. No man has ever touched my heart the way you do. There is something about you Johnny. Something pure. Something true. Something you should never lose.”

  John held her hand. “That something is you.”

  Catherine pulled him close and their lips met passionately. She uncoiled her legs, wrapped them around his waist and
held him tight. Her fingers slid down his back until they found the bottom of his shirt. Their lips parted only for a moment as she hoisted the baggy sweat-shirt over his head. John placed his hands on her legs and with the tips of his fingers softly massaged her thighs though the leggings. Catherine closed her eyes and purred 136

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  softly. Then as his fingers moved around to the side of her tights and toward her firm bottom, Catherine leaned back, letting her blazer slide off, and rested on her elbows.

  John continued to gently knead her thighs as he bent forward and kissed the cleft in her chin. He then worked down to her throat and cleavage. Catherine moaned hotly as John unfastened the buttons of her blouse with his teeth. The silky material soon followed the blazer and slid off her shoulders. She leveled at him a sultry look as John gently circled her belly button with the tip of his nose. Catherine then threw her head back and laughed as he blew a raspberry on her taut belly.

  With a frisky twinkle in her emerald eyes, Catherine pulled the clasp on her bra and exposed her firm breasts.

  John grinned stupidly, so Catherine contemptuously fired the bra at him like a sling shot. He ducked then tenderly attacked her erect nipples with his tongue and mouth.

  Catherine’s muscles quivered beneath her skin at the sensation. Her hands held him between her breasts as his finger tips gently stroked her sides. Catherine arched her back as John’s fingers slipped under the elastic waist band of her leggings. Then with a gentle tug he coaxed them over her hips and down her legs to the floor, where she kicked them aside. Eyes wide, Catherine watched as John gently buffed the tip of his nose across the trimmed triangle showing through her thin pink panties. She shifted her hips allowing John to hook his thumbs on the elastic waistband and slide them down her thighs.

  His nostrils inhaled her scent as her public hair tickled his nose. John’s tongue found the spot and he delved in. Catherine cupped his head in her hands and gasped loudly despite herself. Her body convulsed gently with pleasure. Catherine felt her skin dance as her muscles shimmered beneath. The body heat John radiated shot through her body, “Oh! Oui! Oui!”

  Catherine sat up with quivering ecstasy still coursing down her spine, and motioned for him to stand up. John complied, and Catherine smiled coyly and sauntered toward him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs tightly around his waist.

  John stepped back to regain his balance as Catherine kissed him ravishingly on the lips, and throat. She slowly let herself slide down his torso, kissing his chest and stomach until she was squatted before him. Then Catherine yanked his sweats and boxers to his ankles. She laughed as his fully erect penis bobbed free and bopped her on the chin.

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  Then she saw it.

  Oh my God. There was severe bruising and several deep cuts that criscrossed John’s groin. Catherine glanced up and felt all desire choke. A dark stain of embarrassment colored John’s face.

  “Johnny?” Catherine whispered.

  “No, no…” his eyes snapped open. “Catherine, I can’t… I just can’t right now,” John said, his breath coming in gasps. Deep within his mind, John Riel was struggling with the memory of a savage and painful violation. His legs felt weak beneath him.

  “Oh Johnny….”

  Catherine caught John in her arms as he collapsed. She gently eased him toward the bed. Oh God Johnny, why didn’t you tell me?

  Catherine cradled him as John wept, unashamed.

  *****

  There was a chemistry that flowed between them. One look in each other’s eyes and they knew it was there. Theirs was a love rooted deep in their heart, their soul, their essence. They both felt its grip. They had both suffered losses, betrayals, and pain.

  John was shaken when a bomb meant for him killed a colleague and he was tried for its consequences in the small South American hell hole called Pôrto Velho. Then when he finally returned home he found his fianceé dead. Kris died of an overdose of the new narcotic, Ink, the super-crack manufactured in Pôrto Velho. The tragedy of the events there seemed to follow him home. He knew he wasn’t, but still he felt responsible. He felt he should have been able to prevent it. He should have been there for her, not halfway around the world. With that guilt he found himself falling further into depression.

  Catherine had friends vanish around her, and a colleague die in her arms. She fell in love with a man and discovered herself lost in conflicting emotions as her bisexuality emerged. Then circumstances forced her to kill the first man she had ever loved. A man she discovered had nothing but contempt for her. He betrayed all she believed in. It was a betrayal she knew would be a long time healing.

  Silently, watching the man she might want to share her life with, Catherine Wildman made one of the most painful decisions she ever had to make. John caressed her tear-streaked face.

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  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Don’t be,” he replied, “I…I should’ve told you what happened… I’m sorry.”

  Catherine held his hand to her cheek. “I love you, Johnny. Please don’t ever forget that.” She pressed her chin to his chest and whispered, “I’m so sorry”

  They held each other tightly for a long time.

  When John woke with the morning sun, she was gone.

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  It had been two days since Catherine had disappeared, yet John did not feel any resentment over her departure. He figured her superiors frowned upon her relationship with a member of the media. He told himself that he would tolerate that opinion for now.

  The doctor managed to obtain a lap-top computer for John to use while he was still their guest. Protective custody. They really thought I would buy that?

  John knew he was not going anywhere for the few days so he used the time to pound out a report on the events leading him here. Now as the skies outside the window turned a dark gray, John sat on the corner of the bed and starred at the blank screen of the video-phone. He wrestled with a personal dilemma, then made the decision and punched in the number.

  The screen remained blank but a woman’s sleepy voice answered on the seventh ring. “Hello?”

  “Hello, Madhuri. It’s me.”

  “John!” Madhuri exclaimed. The screen flickered to life, showing a rumpled Madhuri propping herself up on a pillow. “Where the hell are you?

  Are you all right? Do you need help? What happened? You just disappeared.”

  “I’m fine, Madhuri,” John said. “I had a bit of a detour.”

  Relief stretched across her features. “I’ll say. It’s been forever. What happened?”

  “I can’t tell you everything, Maddy, but I’m fine and I’m in Toronto.”

  “I understand,” Madhuri said. She knew John only played with her name when he suspected their conversation was being monitored. It had worked 140

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  well for them in the past. “So, what have ya’ been doing?”

  “Oh, this and that. I haven’t hooked up with the CWN yet.”

  Madhuri smiled when John used a term he used in school, “‘This and that’? And?”

  “You really can read me, can’t you,” John chuckled.

  “Like a book. Spill.”

  “I’ve met someone.”

  She paused slightly, yet her face betrayed nothing. “I’m happy for you John.”

  “Madhuri?”

  “No, really John, I am.” Her eyes told him of her sincerity, yet her voice cracked ever so slightly, “Is she pretty?”

  “Like an autumn sunset.”

  “I like that. What’s her name?”

  “Catherine.”

  “That’s lovely. Is she there?”

  “No. She’s working Maddy.”

  She paused again and made some mental notes. “John?”

  “Yes?”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?”

  “Yes Madhuri,
I did.”

  “That’s good. I’m happy for you.”

  “Thank you.” John squeezed his eyes shut, sealing in an image of his best friend in his mind. “Madhuri?”

  “Yes?” her voice held a slight flutter.

  “I love you,” John said.

  “I love you too,” Madhuri answered. “Thanks for calling.”

  John opened his eyes and nodded.

  “Goodbye, John.”

  “Goodbye, Madhuri.”

  Her image winked out and her voice was replaced by a distant clicking sound followed by the drone of the dial tone. John turned the video-phone away and rubbed his eyes. Did I just do the right thing? Madhuri has been a good friend, better than I deserve. I hope I didn’t just haul her into this mess. A hardy rap at the door yanked John from his thoughts. He rose and opened the door, revealing St. James and Burton. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Riel, we have to talk,” St. James said.

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  A Small Private Cemetery

  Newmarket, Ontario, Canada

  11:07 hours 19 August, 2020

  It had not stopped raining since that night John learned of Catherine’s fate. Slowly, grudgingly, it sunk in and once again John Riel was standing in the rain. This was the second time all that he cared about was in a box before him. Kristina died almost a year ago and now Catherine was dead. Dead. Why? Again...

  The only other soul around was the Rabbi and he was rushing the service. He wanted to get out of the rain.

  After Catherine’s remains were sprinkled in the grave, the Rabbi placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder then dashed for his car. John lowered his head.

  Oh Catherine...

  John saw an old man in coveralls shovel dirt on the woman he loved and closed his eyes.

  Why... ?

  His mind drifted...

  *****

  “Mr. Riel. We have to talk,” St. James said.

  “Right now?” Crap. I shouldn’t have said Catherine’s name on the phone. 142

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  But it couldn’t have gotten to St. James this fast.

  “I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

  John stepped to one side and St. James entered. She crossed the room and sat down on the couch. Burton remained standing by the door. St. James gestured toward the chair. “I think you better sit.”