Lady Luck

by Kristen Ashley

  I got to my seventh set of thirty when I heard the backdoor close then I heard the lock flip then I heard the vertical blinds slapping against each other as Ty pulled them over the door then another slap as he shut them. Then this happened again and I knew he was at the window over the sink.

  I lifted up and looked at him over the couch. Then I watched as he moved around the house, a manila envelope in his hand, closing all the blinds including the ones at the wall of floor to ceiling windows that it took three long tugs to get both sides of them across the expanse then he slapped them closed.

  I’d never seen those blinds closed. It felt weird being closed in our house. We were in a development but removed. There were houses close but with the trees around, they felt far. Being the last house in the development, up an incline that grew significantly steeper after the last house before ours, our place felt separate, private, there was no need to close the blinds so I never had.

  I felt a shiver trill up my spine at the need to close the blinds and then another one when Ty walked to stand opposite the coffee table from me where he lifted up the envelope and started to study it, turning it back to front.

  I curled my legs in an S and got up on my hand, my eyes also on the envelope.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “No clue. Was sittin’ at the backdoor.” I looked up at his face to see him looking at me. “You see who put it there?”

  Dusk had fallen, it wasn’t dark but there wasn’t a lot of light left. Our house faced west, the back was darker than the front and the outside light wasn’t on.

  I shook my head and answered, “It was a man. A big guy but not you, Bubba, Deke big. Short-sleeved shirt, plaid. That’s all I saw.”

  “So you didn’t recognize him?”

  I shook my head.

  He nodded and looked back down at the envelope.

  Then he moved to open it and I tensed, whispering, “Honey,” not wanting it to be an envelope bomb or something because I didn’t want our house to explode. I loved our house, of course, but mostly I didn’t want Ty and me to explode with it.

  He ignored me, pushed the clasps back, flipped open the lip, turned it over and a CD in a transparent, green plastic case slid into his hand.

  I got off the couch and moved to him as he turned the envelope to look inside and I made it to him as he leaned forward and dropped the envelope on the coffee table and was looking at the case back to front.

  “Is that it?” I asked.

  “That’s it,” Ty answered.

  “No note?” I went on, looking down at the case which was a CD, no writing, nothing.

  “No note, nothin’ on the envelope,” he replied.

  Then without another word, he moved to the stairs. I hustled after him. His legs were longer than mine and he was already in the office, reaching to the computer to turn it on when I got there.

  My computer was an all in one unit, just a big, long monitor, a wireless keyboard and mouse. Shiny black. It was awesome. I bought it because it looked good not because I knew anything about computers. Still, the dude at the store said it was a really good one and I’d noticed it was super fast, at least compared to my old one.

  Ty dropped the CD on the desk and felt around the sides of the computer. After about a second, the CD drive slid open at the side.

  I kept quiet and reminded myself to breathe as the computer booted up, Ty loaded up the CD, shoved in the drawer and sat down in the swivel chair, rolling it to the desk, his big hand covering the mouse.

  I leaned into the side of the chair as the computer read the disc then opened up a window listing things Ty could chose from for what he wanted to do with the disc.

  He picked, double-clicked, the screen went entirely black and I held my breath, hoping that it wasn’t some virus that would explode my computer because I liked my computer and my man that day asked me to slow down spending, he did it in a way that was super nice and we didn’t need to drop a whack on a new computer when mine was only five months old.

  Then a small, square screen popped up, my breath came back, I blinked as what I saw and heard hit my brain, Ty’s hand moved the mouse, he maximized the image and it filled the big monitor.

  Then I stared.

  “Holy fuck,” Ty whispered.

  Holy fuck was right. And also a big, fat euw.

  This was because we were watching what appeared to be a homemade porn video and it was not a good one. Not that much porn was high-budget, high-quality just that this was bad.

  And it was bad for more reasons than the director clearly had no vision.

  Two women working an old guy. He was tall and lean but he was old. And he was into some seriously sick shit.

  Seriously sick.

  I’d never seen anything like it, I didn’t know anyone was into that kind of thing, I didn’t actually even know that kind of thing existed and, watching it, I wished I still didn’t know.

  I was staring in fascinated horror, wanting to pull my eyes away but for some reason not able to. I wondered why some anonymous man had dropped this at our backdoor. I wondered how anyone could get off on that crap.

  And as I was wondering and struggling with the nauseous roil in my stomach, I heard Ty whisper, “The blonde.”

  I had been concentrating on the activities, not the participants so I focused on one of the two females, the blonde not the brunette.

  Then I froze.

  It was Misty Keaton.

  “Ohmigod,” I breathed.

  I felt Ty’s eyes on me but mine didn’t move from Misty. Thinner, younger, I couldn’t guesstimate by how much but half a decade, at least.

  “You ever see that man?” he asked.

  My eyes moved to the guy even though I didn’t want them to considering what the women were doing to him and I shook my head.

  “The other woman?” Ty went on.

  I looked to her and shook my head again.

  “Look, Lex, at the salon? Grocery store? Anywhere?”

  I kept looking and, for my man, I did it hard though it cost me. Then I shook my head.

  I felt Ty’s eyes move away from me then I forced mine to his hand which was again moving on the mouse. He hovered the cursor at the bottom the screen so the controls on the video came up and I saw the video lasted over thirty-five minutes.

  Gross. I couldn’t imagine sustaining that activity for one minute without hurling much less over half an hour.

  Ty clicked on the control and the action stopped when he slid it across to take it to the end. The screen went blank. He slid it back half a centimeter and we were treated to an empty bed, covers mussed, no one in the room.

  Then I sucked in breath when the camera caught Arnie Fuller, full face and close up, his attention focused on something then the screen went blank.

  He’d made the tape.

  And it was highly likely one, a couple or all the participants didn’t know he’d done it when he’d done it.

  But I was guessing they knew shortly after.

  “Phone,” Ty rumbled and I realized I still had his phone in my hand.

  I lifted it up and he slid it out of my grip, instantly flipping it open. His thumb moved over the keypad then he put it to his ear.

  Then I heard him say, “Tate? Ty. You in for the night?” He paused then, listening as well as clicking, opening up the DVD directory and the hard drive directory, then, “Just got a delivery, anonymous, DVD sex tape left at the backdoor. Hang on.”

  He looked at me and pushed the chair back, dipping his head to the machine.

  “Save it but bury it, babe. At least two places.”

  I nodded, reached out, moved the keyboard to face me, grabbed the mouse and got to work.

  Ty went back to the phone, “I’m here.” Pause then, “Yeah, Lex saw the guy who left it but didn’t recognize him and he was gone before I got out the backdoor. Misty Keaton is on the tape, younger, thinner, gotta be around the time she fucked me over or just before. I don’t know the other two in
the tape and Lexie hasn’t seen them. But I do know Arnie Fuller made it seein’ as he was on screen after the festivities were over, camera caught him turning it off. It is not fun viewing, brother, but I’m at a loss why this was slipped to me. I need you to take a look at it and tell me if you got more.”

  Another pause while I created directories, “Recipes” then “Cookies” then dragged the video file across windows, dropped it in and renamed it “Chocolate Chip”.

  Then Ty said, “Right, we’ll be over soon’s we save it. Sorry, Tate, need this info or I wouldn’t fuck up your Sunday and, no way around it, you see this sick shit, it’s gonna fuck up your Sunday.”

  He was not wrong about that. My Sunday hadn’t been the greatest but we’d got to the good part. Still, that video fucked up the whole day.

  I kept going, creating another directory called “Addresses” then “Christmas Card List” then saved the file under the name, “Out of Town”.

  Ty was back to Tate. “Right, we gotta shut the computer down. Be there as soon as we can. Thanks.” I heard him flip his phone shut and say to me, “Close it down, babe.”

  I did and he ejected the DVD. He put it back in the case while I moved out of the office and down the stairs. He followed me down and I went directly to my shoes. Ty got his boots on in no time flat and waited while I finished with my zips then we both hoofed it to the car. We took the Viper. Ty stayed within the speed limit but I knew it cost him.

  When we hit Carnal, I spoke into the strained silence.

  “What do you think this means?”

  I looked to him and saw his eyes flash back and forth from road to rearview mirror as he answered, “I think it means Arnold Fuller’s net is unraveling.”

  “That man in that video is important and he’s blackmailing him,” I guessed.

  “That man in that video is important and Fuller’s got him by the balls,” Ty replied.

  “Misty?” I whispered.

  “Fuller’s go-to pussy.”

  Hmm. This seemed to be true. After what I saw, I was actually beginning to feel sorry for Misty. She looked like she was loving every minute of it in a way she looked like she was trying really, really hard to pretend she was loving every minute of it which means she was not. Even if the guy was hot, not old enough to be her father, no girl could love every minute of that.

  Ty kept talking. “The question is, this guy’s important, how many more men like him does he have by the balls? And question two, who got hold of this and gave it to me?”

  “It wasn’t Keaton or Frank,” I said softly.

  “Crabtree?” Ty asked.

  “No, it wasn’t him. I’d recognize him anywhere, even in the dark.”

  “Then his net is unraveling,” Ty muttered.

  I went silent, uncertain what this meant but knowing it was only partially good and the rest could be very bad.

  We arrived at Tate and Laurie’s house which was on the other side of Carnal, through some winding roads up on a hill. A long two story house, the bottom floor mostly built into the ground, a deck that ran the entire front of it and jutted off the end. It was embedded in trees and I loved our view and, even as days slid into weeks, I was not used to it. Still, I had to say that the seclusion and quiet of Tate and Laurie’s house surrounded by dense Colorado forest was definitely a close runner up in cool.

  Ty parked, waiting for me to round the car and took my hand as we walked through the bright outside lights up to the deck. Tate came out the sliding glass door that I knew led to the dining area off the kitchen and he slid the door to.

  His eyes moved down to the DVD case Ty was carrying.

  “Already told Jonas he’s to stay upstairs but Laurie’s curious. How bad is this shit?” Tate asked when we got close.

  “You like gettin’ some from your wife?” Ty asked back when we stopped at Tate.

  Tate’s lips twitched and he answered the obvious, “Yeah.”

  “Then keep her far away,” Ty replied.

  Tate’s amused eyes slid to me, I cocked my head because Ty was not wrong. He was going to have to work hard to get that shit out of my brain the next time we had sex. Lucky for me, he always worked hard.

  Tate opened the door and motioned us through. We went in and I’d been there before but, again, even with what was happening, I processed how cool it was and repeated what I did the other times I was there and memorized Laurie’s flair with décor intending to use it myself one day. This was essentially making everything look really, freaking good, purchasing nothing but top quality but underlying it all was comfort for her boys and she decorated in memories, the place was full of pictures.

  Laurie’s ass was planted on a stool at the butcher block topped island in their awesome kitchen like she kept vigil there, cell phone on the counter in front of her, laptop open and on, a half full glass of what looked like iced grape Kool-Aid in a super girlie but kickass glass in front of her, her eyes riveted to us the minute we entered and they were visibly curious.

  If I wasn’t still seriously grossed out and totally freaked out, it would have amused me to consider super-hot, tall, great body, total man Tatum Jackson drinking from that girlie glass.

  Then again, the way Laurie spoiled her boys, she probably had a whole other set they could drink from.

  Jonas was flat out on the couch watching TV and he was not curious. Clearly Dad spoke, Jonas listened or, alternately, there was something he was really into on TV.

  We exchanged greetings then Tate headed through the kitchen toward a back room saying, “Closed party, baby.”

  “Tate –” she started, he stopped, turned, caught his wife’s eyes and shook his head. She looked to me. “That bad?”

  “My brain is still burning and if Ty wasn’t holding my hand, I’d be bumping into stuff because I’m temporarily blind,” I answered.

  She wrinkled her nose in a “gross” look that, considering she hadn’t seen it, didn’t do it justice.

  Tate led us down some stairs, through a room with weight equipment in it, down a hall and into a room he clearly used as an office considering the desk, filing cabinets and office equipment. He already had his computer booted up. He didn’t delay in sitting in front of it and loading up the DVD. Then he set it to go.

  Then it went.

  “Fuck me,” he whispered, then, not done being horrified and expressing it, “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.”

  “Told you, brother. Sick shit,” Ty muttered.

  Suddenly, Tate leaned forward, the first impact of what he saw wearing off and he focused.

  “Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” He was still whispering.

  “What?” Ty asked and I got closer to him, my hand still in his tensing

  “Trane,” Tate said.

  “Train?” I asked.

  Tate’s head turned slowly and he tipped it back to look up at us. “Trane. Trane Keaton. Chace’s father.”

  My body locked right beside my husband’s that was doing the same.

  “Come again?” Ty asked but the words were tight, forced through his lips.

  Tate looked back at his computer monitor. “That’s Misty. Don’t know the brunette.” He looked back at us. “But that is definitely Trane Keaton of the Aspen Keatons. Chace was in uniform while I was on the Force, hadn’t made detective yet and his Dad came around more than once. Hotshot. Shit don’t stink. You didn’t forget him mainly because he didn’t want you to. He was in a Police Department with men who got more testosterone than most and still took his time pissin’ in every corner. Jackass, huge. Dickhead, bigger. Treated Chace like shit, Chace’s choice to bail on Aspen and the good life and live in a small biker town wearin’ a uniform was not Daddy’s favorite thing and he made that apparent.”

  Tate turned back to the screen, commandeered the mouse and did what Ty did to take the video to the end. Then he saw Fuller. Then he thankfully closed the video window and turned back to us.

  “You suss it out?” he asked Ty.

  Ty moved to the de
sk, rested his fine ass and a hard thigh on the edge of it, foot hanging. I again moved to lean into him and his arm curled around my hips.

  “Heard of his perversion, set Misty on him, got ‘im by the balls,” Ty answered as a confirmation he had sussed it out.

  Tate nodded but said, “More.”

  “Give it to me,” Ty invited.

  “I will but I’m also gonna break it down, some speculation in this shit but gotta tell you, Keaton turning to the dark side threw me. He was a straight arrow. Made Frank look crooked. That said, he was no choirboy and I mean that only in the sense that he liked to get him some and he’s a good-lookin’ guy, he had choice and he enjoyed it, including Misty. He didn’t talk about it but I reckoned he might play as much as he liked but when it got down to bein’ serious, no way the likes of Misty Keaton would have his ring on her finger. He might accept a woman who had some experience… some. If he couldn’t bag himself a virgin, though, he would not be settling with a girl of Misty’s array of knowledge. He’s a man who likes control and my guess is, he wouldn’t mind he had to do a fuckload of training seein’ as, when he was done, he’d get it just like he liked it. Just a guess but Chace wanted a quiet life, out from under Daddy’s thumb, white picket fence he earned his own self fencing in a family with two point five kids and a wife who made kickass pies, was the leader of his daughter’s Brownie troop but still gave world class head,” he paused, looked at me and said, “Sorry, Lexie.”

  “That’s okay,” I whispered on a grin.

  Tate grinned back.

  “And?” Ty prompted when Tate didn’t continue speaking.

  So Tate continued speaking.

  “What I’m sayin’ is, this man was his own man, not his father’s son. He was who he wanted to be. Took balls to walk away from all that. So, him goin’ under shocked the shit outta me. Everyone knows Misty got Chace outta your deal and everyone knows Chace didn’t pretend to like it. Before that, he kept his head down, his nose clean, did his job. Like all the boys, he wanted to stay employed, he looked the other way with shit but he didn’t participate in it. Without family to hold him close, a connection to the community, like Frank has, why he stuck around Carnal and put up with that shit, I don’t know. My guess was, him movin’ on or quittin’ altogether would get him a big ‘I told you so’ from Daddy. Also could be, Fuller’s network was so vast, would be hard to find a job if he left Carnal. I know I didn’t go back into police work after that, bad taste in my mouth. But I had ties to the community, I grew up here, this was home, found a way to stay and earn a living. That said, if Keaton told Fuller and his boys to go fuck themselves and moved clean across the country that would not have surprised me. What surprised me and what I never got was why a man like Chace, his own man, a straight arrow and a man who liked control, buckled regarding Misty then, directly after, entered the inner sanctum.”