by John Locke
“Can I ask why?”
“There are too many reasons to list. But I want someone special, someone who makes me all giddy and girly. I want to have children someday, and a husband with a normal job.”
“You’d be bored shitless.”
“Maybe I would, eventually. But it’d be fun to live the fairy tale for as long as it works.”
“Trust me, the fairy tale’s a myth. That’s why they call it a fairy tale.”
“See? That’s another reason it wouldn’t work between us. You’re too negative.”
“You’re right.”
“You agree?”
“Yes. But here’s the thing.”
He pauses.
“I’m listening.”
“What if the world’s most perfect guy comes along, and you can’t perform?”
“Sexually?”
“Yes. What if there’s a point in your relationship when you want to give him everything, but you can’t, because of the pain, or the fear of pain, whether it’s psychological, physiological, or both. I can’t think of anything sadder than losing the man of your dreams because you can’t give him intimacy.”
“You can’t, huh?”
“I’m being serious.”
“What’s your point?”
“My point is when Mr. Right enters your life, you need to be ready for him. And what I mean by that is you need to feel comfortable. You need to feel confident about your sexuality, and there’s only one way that can be achieved.”
“And what way is that?”
“Practice.”
Maybe bursts into laughter. Her whole body shakes as her laughter cascades from her throat and bounces off the furniture. Tears start to form in her eyes.
“What is so fucking funny?” Sam says.
“You’re the most manipulative bastard I’ve ever met!” she says, then laughs again.
“I admit it. But that doesn’t make me wrong.”
“Yes it does! That’s exactly what makes you wrong.”
“Think about it,” Sam says. “Who could possibly be better to help you get through this? I’m the only man in your life who knows about your sexual issues, and the only person who’s managed to get you dilated without pain. I’ve followed every step of your treatment. I’ve seen you naked. I’ve touched you.”
“Inappropriately!”
“Yes! And that’s behind us, now.”
“You’re insane.”
“We’ve known each other nearly a year. I understand what makes you tick. I’ve invested more than a quarter million dollars turning you into the person you are today. And regardless of what happens, I’m going to continue employing and supporting you, if you let me. And have I mentioned I adore you? I do. And I love you, too, as you know full well. And the best part of all?”
“Yeah?”
“You’ve told me how things are going to be between us, and how they’ll be in the future. And I’m okay with it! I’ll be the guy who loves you, takes care of you, talks to you day and night, for any reason, anytime you wish. I’ll be the guy who makes it possible for you to give yourself to the man of your dreams. And the minute you’re ready to do so, I’ll step aside.”
Maybe shakes her head.
“What?” Sam says.
“I don’t believe any part of it.”
“You know what?”
“What?”
“That’s okay too. But let me ask you this: what have you got to lose?”
“Apart from my dignity and self-respect?”
“Yes.”
She thinks about it a minute. Then surprises him by saying, “Out of curiosity, let’s see what you look like without your clothes.”
44.
MOMENTS LATER, SAM gasps, falls off her, rolls onto his back.
“That’s it?” Maybe says.
“For now. Sorry.”
“Thirty seconds?”
“What can I say? I was excited.”
“Jesus. I thought, you know, an older guy?”
“What about it?”
“I thought that was the big thing about older guys. They’re able to hold out longer.”
“Look. You need practice, I need practice.”
Maybe gives a half smile. “That’s sort of sweet.”
“Thanks. Anyway, being sexually satisfied is not what’s important right now.”
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“You know what I mean. The big news is we achieved having sex. Without pain.”
“True. The problem is I didn’t feel anything at all.”
“You must’ve felt something.”
“I don’t mean to hurt your feelings.”
Sam frowns. “Give me a minute.”
“Why, you want to fuck me two more times?”
“Funny. Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Why won’t you let me take off your top?”
“I’m a mess up there.”
“That can’t be true.”
“I’m self-conscious about my breasts.”
“Why?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“But that’s the point. You don’t have to worry what you say to me.”
“They go in different directions.”
“Let me have a look.”
“You’re a pervert.”
“Let me see.”
She shows him. “See what I mean?”
“These are great boobs. But yeah, I see what you mean.”
“I can’t show these to someone I love.”
“Someone who loves you won’t care.”
“I’ll care.”
“Then I’ll get them fixed.”
“How?”
“This is the simplest surgery in the world. Thirty minutes, tops. Two weeks recovery.”
“What’re you, a plastic surgeon?”
“No. But a few stitches on the inside here,” he points, “and here…and you’re perfect.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
“Will the stitches show?”
“No. They’ll be hidden under here…and here.”
“Will it hurt?”
“A little. But it’ll be worth it. To you.”
“Thanks, Sam.”
“My pleasure. And speaking of pleasure, I believe I’m ready, if you’re willing.”
She frowns. “I suppose you’ve earned another shot.”
He flips her over.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she says.
“Practicing. Let me know if I hurt you in any way.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll know.”
He enters her, and the experience makes him light-headed. He pulls her back, so that she’s on her knees, and after a couple of minutes, he hears her moaning softly. He’s behind her, and she can’t see the smile on his face. Nor could she possibly know what he’s thinking at this very moment, which is, I’m fucking Donovan Creed’s daughter!
When they’re done, he says, “Will you keep killing for me?”
“Yes,” she says. “If you keep paying me.”
“We make a perfect team.”
“What on earth makes you think that?
“You’re willing to kill for me, and I’m willing to die for you.”
45.
“HOW MUCH ARE you paying the other girl?” Maybe says.
“What girl?” Sam says.
“The one who’s been taking my classes at Mabry.”
“Twenty grand.”
“For twenty grand the best she can do is a B-plus in biology?”
“Like I said, the professor’s a dick.”
Maybe laughs. “That’s what I told my father.”
“You spoke to him?”
“Of course.”
“I thought you weren’t taking his calls.”
“If I ignore my father too long, he starts checking around.”
“You wouldn’t tell him about any of this, would you?�
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“Are you crazy? He’d kill you.”
“Yes.”
Maybe studies his face a minute. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell him?”
“Should I be?”
“Yes. If you ever displease me enough, you’re toast.”
“Then promise you’ll never tell.”
“I won’t promise that.”
“Will you at least promise not to mention my name?”
“We’ll see. Right now he thinks you’re a post-Rapture pet salesman named Chuck.”
“You’re shitting me!”
Maybe laughs.
After ordering room service, Sam drives her home. Tries to kiss her at the door, but she puts her hand between their faces to block his lips.
“We don’t have that type of relationship,” she says. “Remember?”
“Sorry. I’ll check around, find the best doctor for the boob job. I’ll let you know when and where.”
“We’ll have a meeting first, right?”
“You and the doctor? Of course.”
“Thanks again for that.”
“My pleasure.”
Kimberly enters her apartment, locks the door behind her, heads for the kitchen, sees the message light blinking. She presses the button, hears her father’s voice. She looks at the digital clock on the oven. 8:55 a.m. Which makes it 5:55 in Vegas.
She calls her father, gets his voice mail. Leaves a message. “You said to call anytime before nine. I stupidly assumed you’d wait till the last minute to hear from me. But no. It’s exactly 8:55, and you’re nowhere to be found. Thanks a lot!”
46.
Sam Case.
“HELLO?” SAM SAYS.
“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” Doc Howard says.
“What are you talking about?”
They’re on the phone, Sam driving to the airport, Doc Howard, somewhere in Virginia.
“Do I really have to say it out loud?” Doc Howard says. “It’s vulgar.”
“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about you and Kimberly Creed.”
“What about us?”
“You’re forcing me to say it? Fine. You fucked her. Was it all you hoped it would be?”
“How did you know?”
“It’s my job to know.”
“Did you have someone following me?”
“Following and listening.”
“How? We were in a hotel room, for crissakes!”
“Doesn’t matter. It’s time to start paying the piper. Get off at exit 24-B, turn right, drive a half-mile to the bowling alley. Park there, and I’ll call you back.”
“How will you know when I park?”
“I’ve got a tracking device on your car.”
“I’m trying to catch a plane.”
“I know all about the flight. You’ll have plenty of time to catch it.”
Sam clicks his phone off and sighs. From where he is, the drive to exit 24-B will take ten minutes, a sufficient amount of time to reflect on how he and Doc Howard became allies in Sam’s war against Donovan Creed.
47.
Six Weeks Earlier.
SIX WEEKS AGO, Doc Howard treated Sam for a nasty snakebite. Toward the end of the treatment, the two men sat down and had an interesting talk, during which Doc Howard said, “Apart from providing the snake that bit you, why do you hate Donovan Creed so much?”
Sam said, “He destroyed my life.”
“How so?”
“Why should I tell you? You work for the bastard!”
Doc Howard smiled. “You might be surprised how my path and yours can intersect to your benefit. Tell me more.”
“Creed stole my wife, put me out of business, and cheated my investors out of billions of dollars.”
“What type of investors?”
“I was hiding money for the world’s most dangerous people. Creed kidnapped my wife, Rachel, threatened to kill her if I didn’t give him the access codes to the funds. He wound up stealing every last cent, then he and Rachel revealed they’d been having an affair for six months. She’s been with him ever since.”
“They walked away and left you with nothing?”
“He cut me a check for a percentage of the take. As if that would compensate me for stealing Rachel and putting my life in jeopardy.”
“He’s your arch enemy,” Doc Howard said.
“Like Superman and Lex Luthor.”
“And you see yourself as the good guy.”
“Aren’t I?”
“Well, I think so, but what do I know? I’m an old man.”
“What do you know?” Sam said.
“I know Rachel carries the gene that can cure the Spanish Flu. I also know she’s been taken to Area B, at Mount Weather.”
“Wait,” Sam said. “You know where Rachel is, but Creed doesn’t? How’s that possible?”
“It’s my job to know things.”
“Your job as a doctor?”
“I’m many things, including a physician. But let’s talk about you.”
“What about me?”
“From what I understand, you’re a computer genius.”
“So?”
“If you could find a way to get into Mount Weather, and work there, we could form an alliance that would benefit both of us.”
Sam said, “If you know about Rachel, you probably already know I’ve been selected to live and work in Area B. With Rachel.”
Doc Howard smiled.
Sam said, “If you have access to this type of information, how could I possibly help you?”
“I don’t have physical access to the facility.”
“Why not?”
“The President trusts me to perform surgery on him, but not to be near the pretty things hidden away in Area B.”
“You want me to steal government secrets for you?”
“I’m not sure what I want just yet. But I won’t ask anything of you that you can’t deliver.”
“And what would I get out of it?”
“Two things: first, I can deliver the sweetest revenge against Creed you could possibly imagine. Second, I can allow you to stay alive.”
“Tell me about the revenge part,” Sam said.
“You might find this hard to believe, but I’ve been communicating with Donovan Creed’s 20-year-old daughter, Kimberly, for nearly a year. Ever since he stopped having her followed.”
“So?”
“You’re a computer expert, Sam. I’m a mind control expert.”
“Go on.”
“I “met” her on a social media site and quickly talked her into giving me her phone number. I began calling her, probing her, learning her secrets.”
“Why would she talk to you? You’re old enough to be her grandfather.”
“She doesn’t know how old I am, but believes I’m old enough to be her father. I used a voice altering device. You probably think something like that would scare the average young lady, but as you may get the opportunity to learn, Kimberly is not your average young lady.”
“What do you mean?”
“She’s inherited the killing gene from her father.”
“That’s possible?”
“Entirely. And I’ve hired someone to pose as Kimberly at her college, taking her classes, so she could be trained by professional assassins. At first she didn’t know they were assassins. She thought they were kickboxing champions and exercise experts who were getting her in shape. But after getting her in shape, they taught her how to fight, how to shoot, and lately they’ve taught her about poisons.”
“To what end?”
“To turn her into a paid assassin.”
Sam listened to all this with his mouth hanging open. “Does Creed know?”
“Of course not.”
“This is insane.”
“Why?”
“How can someone who’s never met the girl get her to start killing people based on a telephone relationship?”
“She actually killed a boy before I contacted her. So she had the raw talent and innate ability to begin with. The rest is mind control. And, of course, I believe she inherited the most important quality a contract killer can have.”
“What’s that?”
“A taste for killing.”
“You mean she likes it?”
“She’s a natural. Of course, there’s a very thin line between being a contract killer and a serial killer. If she’s not guided properly, Kimberly could easily go off the deep end.”
Sam was speechless.
“So anyway,” Doc Howard said, “I found her deepest, darkest secret, and moved forward from there.”
“What’s her secret?”
“I’ll tell you, if we work a deal.”
“I’m in.”
“You haven’t heard the deal.”
“Okay, tell me.”
“What you get is Kimberly. You won’t have complete control over her mind and body, but you’ll be well-positioned to influence her.”
“Influence her to do what?
“Steal for you, kill for you, and possibly even sleep with you, if that’s your wish.”
“Turn Creed’s daughter into a killer and get her to fall in love with me? This is a joke, right? I bet Creed’s watching us right now on a monitor somewhere!”
Sam looked around the room.
“If you recall, the monitors in this room have been destroyed or removed. You’ll have your proof within minutes, if I get what I want. But let me address the idea of getting her to fall in love with you. I wouldn’t count on that happening. But you’re a hop, skip and a jump from being able to seduce her.”
“You said you can furnish proof?”
“I’ve made tapes of every conversation I’ve had with Kimberly. Hundreds of hours. I’ll turn those over to you, to study carefully over the next few weeks. I’ll sneak you onto some of our calls so you can get a real-time feel for the way I work her mind. When you’re ready, you can take over. In your real voice.”
“Won’t she know it’s not you?”
“No. You’ll have memorized our entire history of conversations. You’ll have me down cold.” He pauses. “But there is one issue you’ll have to get past.”
“What’s that?”
“I’ve made her call me Daddy.”
“What? Why?”