Chapter 10 - Position
They stood on the front porch watching the black Mustang drive off as if their daughter were headed to prom with the star football player. Words escaped them both as the taillights disappeared into the night and a sense of dread filled them both. A yucky feeling sat in her gut as she looked at her husband.
Slow spoke first, “I don’t think I will be ready when it’s time for Naomi to go on her first date or even to the Senior Prom.”
“Yeah, you know, in the end, someone is usually going to get fucked, and you just pray it’s not your baby,” Cherry said. “What have we done, Michael? We chose this life; she didn’t! She is going out there to right the wrongs in the world armed with a false sense of hope, security, and that man.”
“That man is my brother,” he gently reminded her.
“That man also has a working dick,” she reminded him, “and you remember the mental high after your first takedown. The adrenalin, the need to either kill something else or fuck until you pass out. She’s not ready for this. She’s not ready for him.”
“He can handle whatever she needs,” Slow said, looking over at her, “Jay was one of our best camp counselors. People respond to him in ways I’ve never seen, and he understands women on an almost poetic level, which is why he stays single. He thinks women are scary.”
“I’m scared,” she told him.
“Can she get the job done?”
“I believe she can,” Cherry replied.
“Then, let’s hold on to that,” he said, slipping her hand into his own. “How’s your foot feeling?”
Slowly, she turned her head to eyeball him, squinting at the out-of-the-blue question. An unanchored question from her husband such as this one had legs of its own. She wasn’t going to play the game.
“Why, you want to show me your working dick?”
“Yes, I would like for you to hold it, possibly spank it for being naughty,” he said laughing. “I’m thinking, you might need to choke that fucker until it spits up.”
“And you look so normal,” she told him. “You have a filthy mind and an even nastier mouth for such a good-looking man.”
“But do you love it?”
“Yes, and I also love you,” she said, pulling him by the hand. Naomi was in bed fast asleep, and it was time for adults to have a bedtime story. “Maybe our bedtime story tonight should be The Emperor’s New Clothes .
“Wasn’t that dude, like, naked?”
“Yes, yes he was,” she told him, double winking as she hobbled her way to the bedroom. “Now, please, try on this new suit I have for you.”
In her hand, she held up nothing as she hand-modeled the suit he would soon be wearing. Bare, open, and trusting of her, his clothing was gone. His hands were wide open and his body on the ready. The quiet times between them intensified the love they made. As much as he wanted his son, what he wanted more than anything, he was getting, and that was his wife at home with him at night. At least, for the next two months.
****
Evansville, Indiana
The two-hour drive was completed in silence. Helen, seated in the passenger seat, was focused on the small bit of information her cousin had provided. The image of the target had been shown to her. The man in question trafficked young boys who were taken from migrant camps with payments given to the parents. The unwitting parents were sold a lie that their children would be given a chance to live out the American Dream and adopted into rich families. In truth, the children were herded like cattle to private sales. Men and women with filthy appetites arrived, sitting around tables like vultures picking over scraps, bidding on the flesh of innocents, and hoping to take home a new toy.
The only difference Helen could surmise between The Collector and these pigs was at least the women he selected were adults. A man who opted to plant his seed in a child or worse, in her mind, had no place on this Earth. Taking a life such as his wouldn’t cause her to lose sleep.
Mustang said nothing outside of the initial departure when he asked, “You have the keys to Cherry’s shop?”
Helen held up a set, dangling them, and told him, “I keep the spares, just in case.”
“Good enough,” he told her as they arrived in Evansville just after 11 p.m. Mustang followed the dot on the GPS and quickly located the truck. He drove one mile east of the truck and located the five stands of trees. He didn’t slow down at the center but made his way around the block before letting Helen out of the vehicle.
He was amazed at how his heart raced as she flipped the hood up on her jacket, her head down, and made a beeline for the tree. In his head, he wanted to inventory what she’d brought with her, but Slow told him she had it. He trusted she did. The rally point was for the rental car company to return the Mustang before they headed to Sheboygan. It would be an eight-hour drive that wouldn’t happen tonight. The best they could hope would be to stop outside of Chicago for the evening to rest.
Instead of going to the car rental place as instructed, he pulled two blocks up, parked, and turned off his lights. From where he sat, he had a clear line of sight to the middle tree. He could also see Helen on the dark street.
She disappeared behind the tree. All he could do was wait.
****
Her heart thudded hard against her breastplate as she eased out of the vehicle, double-checked her pocket for the truck keys, and closed the vehicle door. She pulled the hood up on her jacket, lowered her head, and started a purposeful stride to the set of trees. Once she reached the middle tree, she slipped behind it, pulled out a climber’s rope, and tossed it upwards and over a branch. Quickly, she made a Swiss seat with the dynamic rope and hastily hoisted her body into the tree.
From the lower branch, she looked up, seeing the weapon nestled in the trees. She also looked for the bird’s nest. Helen worked her way up the branch and located the nest, thankful the mother was not in the shreds of dry leaves and twigs. Smartly, she pulled the nest out, checking for eggs and spotting two, she gave a quick, “Aww.” She climbed up three more branches, securing the nest away from her firing zone.
Lowering herself to the working branch, she found that the ammo pouch and phone were still there. From her left pocket, she took out a phone charger and connected the phone to give it juice after she ensured the lights were off on it so no one could see the light from the screen in the middle of a fucking tree. With the ammo pouch around her waist and the Swiss seat cinched to the branch, she took her position.
Melody, Cherry’s favorite rifle, was also the weapon her cousin used to train Helen to shoot. Cherry used the Smith and Wesson handgun to teach her to fire small arms. Over the years, her cousin had taught her hand-to-hand combat, knife skills, survival tactics, and more. She only had to wait for the target.
Right on time, Karlton Manford arrived at the back door of the establishment with not only three young boys but also a girl child. Through the scope, Helen saw several things occur between Karlton, the girl child, and another man, and they were not even inside the building. The girl was crying, scared, and trying to pull away from the men.
Helen took a deep breath, held it, then pulled the trigger. Before she exhaled, she pulled it again, taking down the other man as well. For good measure, a round or two extra were fired into the window of the building, shattering the glass. She didn’t know if it was timing or bad luck on their part, but the arrival of a patrol car passing by earned a nice bullet in the back tire, making it stop in front of the building. Suspicious police officers jumped out, running towards the building, sending men scurrying from the door like roaches when the lights came on. More children poured out of the building, making a mess of the crime scene where two dead men lay in the road.
She used Cherry’s phone, attached the mini zoom lens for the camera, and snapped a photo of a very dead Karlton Manford. Helen snapped several of the second man before returning the phone to the ammo pocket and breaking Melody down to fit in the bag that looked like a very raggedy old purse.
Sirens echoed as looky-loos gathered, coming out of other buildings to see what was happening at the shady nightclub. The amount of ease it took to lower herself from the tree surprised her, and she gave a silent bit of thanks to Slow for making her chop the wood. Whether she’d built muscle or not, she’d built confidence and had completed an assignment as a Technician. She wasn’t an official member. She’d only started her training in the Unicorn Academy. However, the assignment was done.
She milled in with the oncoming crowd, walking through the throng of arrivals and making her way down the street to Cherry’s shop. She didn’t use the remote to unlock it but opted to open the truck by hand. Once she placed Melody on the floor of the truck in the secret compartment, she started the shop. Instead of driving through the throng of people, she backed up, going around the fray to meet Mustang at the car rental.
Her only thoughts were to get to Mustang.
Her focus was to get to Mustang.
“Drive Helen; get to Mustang,” she repeated over and over until she arrived at the preset meeting place.
He was coming out of the office when she pulled up. She slowed and unlocked the doors of the truck as he slung his overnight bag onto the back seat and climbed inside.
“Head up I-74 to Joliet where we will stay the night before heading to the second stop,” he told her.
“We are staying the night?”
“Helen, it’s after midnight, we are both tired, and rest is required,” he said, leaning the bulk of him into the seat. He plotted the address in the GPS of the truck. “Head there for the night.”
“Okay, nothing else to say?”
“Did you send the confirmation image to the preset one in the phone?”
“Oh, let me do that now,” she said, looking at the phone, finding the image, and clicking send. Thinking better of it, she sent the second image as well. “Done. Onward.”
She was calm. Driving would keep her focused on the task of getting them to the hotel. If she focused on the task of driving the truck, she wouldn’t want to talk.
“Good, because I don’t feel like it anyway,” he said aloud.
“Excuse me, are you talking to me?”
“Only to myself, Helen,” he said, leaning into the seat and closing his eyes.
It took an entire six hours to get from Evansville to Joliet, and by the time they arrived, she was wiped out. Not only was she wiped out but the emotions of what she’d done grabbed her by the leg, yanking hard. The distance in her eyes concerned him as he requested one suite in the hotel.
“A suite?”
“Yeah, close by, yet enough space to not make it weird,” Mustang said. “I don’t like weird.”
“As if anything about this is normal,” she said, following behind him to the elevator.
The hotel room was nothing fancy. The suite had a separate bedroom with a closing door, a water closet, and a pull-out couch. Mustang immediately announced he wasn’t taking the couch after having slept on one last night at Slow’s place.
“Shower, rinse some of it off, and try to catch some kip,” he said, taking his bag to the bedroom.
Helen didn’t argue; she was tired. In the bathroom, she closed the door, locked it, and started the shower. She gave extra attention to her shoulder, which felt sore from the kick of Melody, the sniper rifle, but overall, she’d done well. Her mind remained focused on the task of cleaning her body and putting on a pair of loose-fitted pjs. She exited the bathroom to find him not in the bedroom but up front setting up her pull-out bed.
“Good night,” he said, allowing her to pass.
“Night,” she said, taking a seat on the made-up bed.
She could hear the shower starting in the other room, and she snuggled down under the covers. Helen closed her eyes and to her shock, she saw the splash of red from where her bullet had made contact with Karlton’s head. Her eyes popped open. Blood from the second man flashed in her mind, and the realization of what she’d done hit her in the chest like a blow. Suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She looked up, and Mustang was beside the couch on one knee. He was talking to her, talking her down, bringing her out of the darkness.
“That’s it, good, breathe. Slowly inhale, hold for four, exhale for four, hold for four, inhale for four,” he said, walking her through until the breathing evened out. “Good. Very good. Slowly. There ya go.”
“What happened?”
“Reality is a kick in the chest,” he said, “so try to rest and breathe through it. We have a lot to do in 48 hours unless you want to go home.”
“No, I need to get this done,” she said.
“Good enough,” he said, going to the bedroom. He didn’t lock the door because he also knew what would come next. It took nearly fifteen minutes for her to get up her courage to knock on the door. “Yes?”
“Uhm, I…,” she started.
“All you have to do is ask, Helen. Tell me what you need.”
“Comfort? Not sex, just some comfort if you’d be willing?”
She heard the covers in the dark along with the sound of a hand patting the bed. The lamp on the nightstand flashed on, and there he was in the bed, all full of manliness. His chest had just enough hair to compliment the ripples of muscles that seemed to bump up from under his skin. Suddenly, her need for comfort was replaced by a bit of fear.
“Behave yourself,” he warned as she climbed in and scooted closer to him. Strong arms wrapped around her body sending her back to the feeling of protection in his arms when he had lifted her from the ground and rescued her from the nightmare after her captivity. She imagined this was how Cherry must feel at night lying down beside Slow.
“You smell amazing,” she said, allowing her finger to run over the bumps and lumps of muscles.
“Well, I did just shower.”
“No, you smell like a night of pillow biting and a good time,” she said, thinking she’d made a mistake getting into bed with him, yet her hands roamed over his midsection.
“Hey, have you ever seen that video of the little kid with his babysitter?” he asked, “The little boy is trying to make a point, and he is saying listen, Helen…Helen, listen, listen, Helen. I feel like that little boy. Listen, Helen! You stop touching me like that or you are going to activate my mighty muscle, and I have no plans to use it today, not with you.”
She leaned back, looking at him. “Okay, hurt my feelings.”
“No, Helen, the circumstance is terrible,” he said. “To act on what you’re feeling or experiencing for whatever reason is a bad one. In a year, after you’ve had some time to heal, and you still want to take a ride on this powerful stallion, I’ll send you a ticket to come to me. Or better yet, I’ll send you a ticket and we can meet wherever you choose, a small island, a winery, or a chalet nestled in the mountains, but you have a mutherfucker to handle. You don’t need to be dick sore before going to do it.”
“Dick sore?”
“Yeah, I have a big one, and your little tight body will be sore as hell when I’m done, so leave the stallion alone. Rest in my arms, get some sleep, and get your mind out of the gutter,” he told her.
She found herself giggling. “Dick sore. I’m going to remember that.”
“Hmhm,” he said, closing his eyes, then reaching for the lamp. “You’d remember my stallion too. Sleep. It’s hard to see in dark places, Helen, so you need to stay sharp.”
“Are you saying I’m night-blind, Mustang?”
“I’m saying that the lighting is poor, and the journey is long,” he told her.
Helen said no more. The comfort he offered, she accepted, holding onto him as if he were a life raft. In the middle of the night, he turned to his back, pulling her across his chest. She rested there, listening to the steady beat of his heart, thankful he was here with her. She was thankful for many things, and while he slept, she provided five additional small kisses on his cheek.