METROCAFE

by Peter Parkin

  Despite being restrained from doing the things that he was accustomed to being able to do in normal lovemaking, in that instant before he climaxed he knew that it was going to be the most intense explosion of his life.

  *****

  Exhausted, they were lying side by side in bed, still naked and glistening. Ali had mercifully removed the silk scarves from his wrists and ankles, allowing Mike the pleasure of rubbing her smooth, toned stomach. She was moaning appreciatively, eyes closed, the hint of a smile on her pretty face.

  She turned her head towards him, and pulled her hands up to cup his face. "I love you, Michael. I really do."

  Mike didn't hesitate. "I love you too, Alison. More than I can say." He kissed her luscious lips. "This has all been so unexpected, but when I think back now to when we first met and how we met, strangely enough it seems that it was inevitable."

  She smiled warmly, and her eyes twinkled with happiness and tears. "You're a hero to so many people. What you did, landing that plane and bringing that terrorist back to justice, it's just unbelievable. You're such a celebrity now, in big demand from everyone. Yet, here you are with me. I feel so lucky."

  Mike hadn't told her about any of the spooky stuff associated with the unique talents he now seemed to have on command. She didn't need to hear that, and he didn't want to talk about it. All she knew was that he had encountered these terrorists in conjunction with his company's international land holdings and that they had embezzled money from his firm, trying to frame him in the process.

  "I just reacted on panic and instinct when I landed that plane, Ali. And it was really pretty easy—that type of jet basically flies itself. But, I had no choice anyway. It was either try to do something or we were going to crash into the Gulf of Mexico. With those options, anyone would have attempted what I did."

  She smiled. "So modest. One of the things I love about you."

  "Ali, I lost three close friends in this entire ordeal: Gerry Upton, who was at the center of the embezzlement, then Steve Purcell, and finally Jim Belton. It's hard to feel like a hero, or even a modest one, when I've lost so much."

  Ali sat up in bed, shivered and drew the sheets around her. "I feel for you. You have indeed lost so much, not only your friends but also your family life. It must be so painful for you."

  Mike sat up as well and stretched his arms around Ali's shapely shoulders. "It makes it all so much easier to deal with knowing I have you and Jonas in my life now. And Jonas lost his father in the terrorist attack that these killers pulled off. Talk about 'six degrees of separation!' It's weird isn't it, how all the dots seem to connect sometimes?"

  Ali nodded and lowered her eyes. "I have a confession to make, Mike. Jonas didn't lose his father that night at the subway station. Wade thought he was the father, and Jonas thought Wade was his dad—but he wasn't."

  Mike leaned on his elbow, resting his chin in his open palm. "Tell me." Ali took a deep breath. "I had an affair with a married man that went on for years, almost a decade. I'm not proud of the deception, but my marriage was shot and it just happened. He was Jonas' biological father but I never told him. I didn't want him to be with me out of obligation, so I kept it to myself."

  "So what happened? Where is he now?"

  "He's gone. He just disappeared over a year ago. I never heard from him again. I don't know why, we were great together, inseparable. I was so much in love with him, and then he was just...gone."

  Mike gently squeezed Ali's bare shoulder. "Did you try to locate him?" "Oh, yes. He said he was a consulting lawyer for various corporations—

  on litigation matters. His name was Tom Balderson. When he disappeared, I checked with the Law Society and they had no record of him. I never even had a phone number for him—he always called me. I accepted that secrecy because I did know that he was married. He was honest about that.

  "And you know what? I think he always knew that he was Jonas' father. I could tell by the look in his eyes and by the way he related to Jonas. I think he knew, and he understood my reasons for not telling him. He respected those reasons, I'm sure, and he wanted me to know that he was with me because he wanted to be with me. I'm sure he didn't want me wondering. But then one day he was just...gone."

  "That must have just broken your heart, to have him just leave you like that, no closure."

  "It did. And my marriage to Wade continued to be a nightmare. But then you came along and I have to tell you that I've never been in love like this before. You need to know that. I loved Tom, but you've taken me by storm. I'm complete again, but in a way that I've never been before."

  Mike kissed her sweet lips. "Do you have a picture of you and Tom together? Did you hang onto some memories?"

  "I do. Do you want to see?"

  "Yes, absolutely. It's good that you've kept your memories, Ali. When you think of it, our memories are the only real enduring things we possess. Tom may be out of your life now, but he was obviously an important part of it for a very long time. And he gave you a wonderful son. I'll never destroy photos of Cindy. At one time I loved her very much, and I want to remember that."

  Ali smiled warmly at him, and nodded. "I'll go and get the photo. Be right back." She jumped off the bed and headed into the adjoining study.

  Mike called after her. "I'll get out the photos of my friends too."

  He slid off the bed and walked over to his jeans that were draped over a chair. He fumbled his way through his wallet until he found what he was looking for. He took the photos back over to the bed and waited for Ali.

  In a flash she was back, with a single photo in her hand. She jumped happily onto the bed just like a little girl, obviously proud and eager to share this part of her past with Mike.

  "You first," she said.

  Mike passed one photo over to her. "This was Steve Purcell. He's the one who was...beheaded in that school incident."

  Ali shuddered, and whispered respectfully, "He was very young in this photo."

  "Yes, he was. That was a senior high school picture. After graduation we never really did anything together except meet at those boring reunions. Such a shame we didn't find the time to do more."

  Ali nodded pensively. "Who's next?"

  "This is Jim Belton. He's the one who fell from the plane. We'd known each other since university."

  She trembled again. "He was cute, but kinda delicate-looking, eh? With those glasses?"

  Mike laughed. "Jim was an accountant—glasses were mandatory." "And the last photo?"

  "Yeah, well this was Gerry Upton. The one whose death from the lightning strike started this whole unbelievable spiral of events."

  Ali picked up the photo and stared at it. Then she held it up to the light on the night table. Mike was surprised to see that tears were running quickly down her cheeks, and her face had flushed a bright red. She was starting to tremble again as well, but this time violently, almost like the start of a seizure. Mike reached out to her.

  Suddenly she whirled towards him, fire in her eyes, and the slap came— hard and fast. Mike didn't see it coming and had no time to brace himself, or protect himself. It was a strong one; so hard that Mike bit down on his tongue with his teeth. He tasted blood.

  Ali glared into his eyes, into his soul, a glare that could melt an iceberg. She seethed, "You sick bastard! What is this, some kind of twisted practical joke?" Then she jumped off the bed and was gone.

  Mike was stunned. What had he done? He reached over the side of the bed and picked up the photo that Ali had dropped onto the floor when she fled the room.

  He laid it down on the bed beside his own photos. Then he gasped, choked. He could feel the crushing voltage of the lightning bolt all over again, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes.

  With the photos side by side, it was just like the cartoon—Tom and Gerry side by side.

  But this wasn't a funny little cartoon, not even close. Because Tom was Gerry and Gerry was Tom.

  About The Authors

  Peter Parki
n was born in Toronto, Canada and after studying Business Administration at Ryerson University, he embarked on a thirty-four year career in the business world. He retired in 2007 and has written seven novels with coauthor Alison Darby.

  Alison Darby is a life-long resident of the West Midlands region of England. She studied psychology in college and when she's not juggling a busy work life and writing novels, she enjoys researching astronomy. Alison has two daughters who live and work in the vibrant cities of London and Birmingham.