by Tiana Laveen
Jayme nodded, unable to speak as her mouth filled with more alcohol and she held on by a thread to not spew it across the room as her girlfriend continued to entertain her.
“The man has money, only one child, and that child is like sixteen now...and he is a damn doctor... How many doctors do you know are struggling to find a damn date?” she continued before Jayme could respond.
“And funny...the man is funny as hell, has me and everyone else in Band-Aids and stitches. Something is wrong with this picture if he is habitually single.”
“It does kinda raise one’s suspicions, now, doesn’t it?” Jayme chuckled as she wiped a tear out of her eye with her knuckle. Just then, her cellphone rang. She reached over onto the coffee table and looked at it. “Oh, it’s my boss. This is odd for him to call me this late, and I’m off tomorrow…” She held the phone in her hand. “Must be important. Hold on a second, Wanda.”
Wanda nodded and lay back against the plush, black pillows. Leisurely crossing her ankles, she closed her eyes and rested as Jayme rose from the couch and answered her phone.
“Hello, Captain Jasper.” She slowly paced back and forth in front of her couch. “Yes, I did, thanks. I’m working on the...right. Actually, we did a sting last night and found out that the hotel being used is the Hay-Adams...oh yes, these are ballas.” She chuckled. “Oh...of course.... What?! I mean, no disrespect, but are you kidding me? ...Right now? Okay, sure. Yes. I’ll be right there.”
Jayme hung up the phone and looked at Wanda, a huge smile bursting across her smooth, mocha face. Wanda opened her eyes, seemingly feeling Jayme’s stare.
“Girl, what? You look like you were just told you won the lottery.”
“You aren’t going to believe this...it’s like my prayers have been answered!” She jumped up and down giddily, feeling the wine sloshing about in her gut as she made merry.
“What? You got a promotion?” Wanda sat up straight, her grin almost as wide as Jayme’s.
“In a way...I can’t tell you anything...but...”
“Girl, you better stop playin’! You know I won’t tell anyone!”
“Wanda! The FBI wants me to work with them on the ‘XXX’ murder case!” Jayme blurted as she raced around her apartment like a mad woman, laughing and leaping about in delirious cheerfulness. Her home-spun dances soon landed her on her tasseled black and crimson rug, bunching it up with her hyper feet. Wanda shot up from the couch, clutching her chest.
“Holy shit!” she laughed. “Jayme, this is great news! I can’t believe it!”
“Me either! I hate to cut our night short, but...”
“Oh, please.” Wanda waved at her. “We can talk about my man troubles later. This is far more exciting!” She grabbed Jayme’s arms, pulled her to her and gave her a big hug.
“Whew, okay.” Jayme took a deep breath. She couldn’t stop smiling. “Let me calm my behind now.”
“Do you need a ride? I don’t trust you to drive with all this giddiness and booze floating around inside you.” Wanda grinned.
“You’re in not much better shape, Wanda. I’ll just call a cab.”
Wanda scrunched up her face and smiled.
“Thank goodness I didn’t drink that next glass...I was on my way, too! I may have been incoherent; I may not have understood a word he said.” Jayme shook her head.
“‘XXX’ murder case...girl! Jayme, my God. It gets no better than that!”
****
Xzion was tired. By now, the ambulances and policemen were in the Meechee home, picking up what was left of the slimy son of a bitch. It took a bit longer than he’d anticipated. Meechee had pulled out a loaded pistol from under his silky pillow during the home invasion, causing Xzion to have to fuck him up nice ’nd good. The kill wasn’t as satisfying. Most people still didn’t know or realize that Meechee was big on the food chain, but it was a necessary kill, nevertheless. Due to this, Xzion kept it slightly less messy. He didn’t create bloody mayhem for no reason, though it had proved to be great fun as of late. People disgusted him more times than they amused him, and he couldn’t wait until this assignment was over.
Regardless, he still kept his professional wit about him. He simply needed to eliminate the cause of the problem, and Meechee was surely one of them.
Xzion had disengaged the alarm system, entered the estate and quickly located the man, who happened to be in a cocaine induced stupor.
This didn’t help Xzion, however—if anything, it caused Meechee to be far more violent, triggering a skirmish that Xzion found slightly comical as he watched the tyrant’s blue eyes bulge. The fucker sunk his teeth into his hand, forcing Xzion to have to head butt him with brute force. Once Meechee was finally subdued, Xzion made a clean slice, beheading him without much ado. Spotless and quick, he branded the forehead of the behind-the-scenes mogul and made his way into the master suite bathroom, where he tended to his wound, and then left quietly. That was three hours ago, and now he stood inside of his new home, the cool, ice blocks slick against his fingertips—finally getting the complete isolation and physical healing that he so needed.
“Is it to your liking?” Aton’s voice came through on Xzion’s wrist control.
“Even more so. You’ve exceeded yourself, and Kiore did wonders on this. I thank both of you. It’s aesthetically pleasing and healing.” Dull blue lights bounced along the ice block covered walls and the chill in the air allowed Xzion to see his own breath.
Ahhh, exquisite...
“It won’t melt, and the room will stay that way.”
“Yes, it is thirteen degrees below freezing in the hallway here. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Have you had the opportunity to tour the entire home as of yet?”
“Yes. I’d been here for approximately twenty-six minutes before I called you. I’ve seen the bedrooms, the ice chamber, the control room, the lavatories, the laboratory...wow, that is by far my favorite…and lastly, the study. This is almost better than home.” Xzion grinned.
“You will be back soon enough, especially at the rate you are going. You’ve exceeded our expectations, Xzion. Your parents are pleased with you, as well as I.”
“Thank you. I will complete the mission and we can begin Phase II. Our people are perishing and I know time is of the essence. I apologize for the Carter case taking so long, Aton. It just took a while to gain their trust. I couldn’t get to him without them around, so, I had to wipe all of them out, which created another layer I hadn’t wanted to initially address. I don’t like having to eradicate that many people at once.” He shrugged. “But I was left no choice.”
“It’s fine... What happened to the other drug dealer that you weren’t initially after? I believe you said his name was Percy. And what became of police officers that showed up on the scene? You never told me what happened regarding that, though I think I already know.”
“Yes, for the Birchwood assignment.” Xzion shook his head. “The guy wouldn’t stop screaming and I tried to control his mind...erase the whole damn thing away but time was getting away from me. I would’ve handled it differently had I had a bit more time. The cops, well, though I was low key, they still were too close, so...you know how that goes. I apologize. My research is typically more efficient, but I’ve been—”
“I know, Xzion. Though you haven’t directly complained, you’ve been overheating. Your new quarters were long overdue.”
“I wasn’t able to think as clearly, or I would’ve have found out that Percy had dropped by before entering the quarters and devised a different game plan. Things got...messy. I had no time to cool myself, to get back into my database, so I had to wing it, so to speak.”
“You still did an exceptional job regardless. However, you seemed rather troubled after the case.”
“Yes, it was because of the cops. Well, I had to snuff him and the cops he alerted from all the commotion he was making. They were just at the wrong place, at the wrong time. I sent their families flowers. Humans seem to be into th
at, regarding bereavement. It’s really strange. I read about it online. They go through great depths to revere their deceased, but don’t show nearly the same concern while the subject is alive and breathing. Why don’t they send flowers and gifts to people they supposedly love more—just because, you know? While they are alive? What is a dead man going to do with some fucking flowers?”
“Well...I…”
“Oh, Aton, never mind. I am just speaking rhetorically...and trying to explain why I came off as I did at the time.” He ran his fingers over his forehead as he paced from room to room.
“It just seemed like the proper thing to do since it was not in the original plan. It was unfortunate.” Xzion sighed, and then smiled as he admired the ice framed windows. “But, here we are and hopefully progress has been made.”
“It has. You are right on track. Good for you, soldier. I will now disconnect from our contact. Please keep me abreast of your future assignments and then we will arrange to have you transported.”
“I will, and thank you.”
Xzion closed his wrist and looked around his new home again, pleased at the craftsmanship. Through the translucent ice, the images on the other side of the partition looked simply blurred, but still quite distinctive. The clearness and the blue lights beaming from the high ceilings reminded him very much of home. He entered his bedroom and disrobed. Placing his bloodied clothing in the incinerator, he ran his hand over his bare shoulder and leaned naked against the blocked iced walls. He closed his eyes, soaking in the subzero air via his pores. He laid his head against it for his skull had started to throb. His entire system thanked him as the blood beneath his skin and the computer in his brain began to blink and cool...
****
“Goddamn it!” Xzion woke up, flung the covers off of his sweat-covered body and walked to the bathroom. He’d been asleep for three hours, quite peacefully, when sordid, sexual daydreams of the cop with the red hair flooded his memory. After a few minutes in an ice soak, he dressed and hurriedly made his way to his car. He started the ignition and drove, not knowing where he was going, but certain he had to get to her. The obsession was driving him crazy.
If I could just see her again, I can get my fill, and just move the hell on...yeah, just let me see her and then I can let this go...
He had never been the obsessive type, and he didn’t know why this was happening, though he had his suspicions. He had his share of crushes as a younger man, and they faded away—this one would, as well. Just feed it a little, he told himself, and then he could be done with the entire sordid matter. After driving in circles for over an hour, and the intense hunger just as strong as ever, he abruptly pulled over. He hoped that in that time frame, he could talk himself out of going, but it didn’t happen. Rather, each second filled his mind with even more vivid thoughts of her twirling, long body and those fucking lips...
Damn, she has beautiful lips.
He grabbed his computer and logged onto the Baltimore police website. There, he spent time scouring the information, clicking on various links that led him to other sites until finally, there she was...
Her black and white photo made his heart flip. Officer Knight’s hair was pulled back, away from her high cheekbones. Her full lips and slanted dark eyes called to him. He ran his finger over the screen, falling deeper and deeper into a place he’d never been before. Once he’d gotten her name, he put his spying investigation work to good use and located the unlisted woman’s home address. Cops seemed to go through great lengths to cloak their residential locations, and with good reason—but for Xzion, it was a piece of cake. He smiled widely as he navigated toward her place, cursing at each red light that slowed his trek.
After a bit of a drive, he was finally there.
He sized up the modern styled apartment building, pullingthe hoodie over his face. Arched doorways and pleasant lighting greeted him, and a parking lot full of clean cars and wispy trees that once held lush leaves dotted the perimeter.
She’s on the third floor...
He went to the back of the building, and saw several lights on. A burst of wind came, blowing his hoodie partially away from his face. He grabbed it quickly, shrouding himself in case someone came around the building to the lot, where he stood , feet planted firmly and a devious plan brewing. Only someone up to no good would be out that late, their face covered, drifting along like a piece of discarded debris in the breeze while peering sneakily up at the building in question.
He needed to act fast. Without any more essential time wasted, he scaled the building, moving like an angry spider up the sides, gripping the bricks with his broad fingertips until he was eyelevel with the window seal. His heart pounded in his chest; he’d moved so quickly, his thigh and calf muscles clenched and ached. He pushed the slight discomfort aside, and peered through the window. Sheer curtains put a ghostly sheen over his view, but didn’t completely obstruct it. He saw the back of a woman dressed in gray knee-length shorts and a white tank top bobbing up and down while a muscular, bald black man on a television in front of her swung his arms to and fro.
She’s awake...she’s exercising...mmmm...
Curls of cool air escaped his lips as he clung closer, his nose almost smashed into the window. He paid particularly close attention to her bobbing ass under the thin Jersey cotton. Her sloppy ponytail bounced about with each lunge and push, making his dick harden as she increased her momentum. His breathing became labored and his now hard as steel erection forced the front of his dark pants to tent. He moaned, unable to control himself. Without any warning, she suddenly turned toward the window.
Struck with panic, Xzion quickly ducked, slid to the side of the window and gritted his teeth. He held onto the bricks below, his fingers pressed hard into the building as he clung with all of his might, refusing the drop to the ground. He could only hope she hadn’t seen him, for he wasn’t quite done with her yet...
You almost got made and all you can think about is seeing her ass bounce again! Jesus, let me just get this the hell over with...
After a few moments, he worked up his nerve to return to the window, and was relieved to see her standing on another side of the room, pounding away at a punching bag dummy.
Okay, false alarm...
Mmmm, she’s strong. Look at her go...thump...thump...thump...
He narrowed his gaze and snaked his tongue over his upper lip, his sexual excitement reaching a fevered pitch, and then, he lost himself.
What the hell am I doing?!
He quickly scaled back down the building, and stomped to his car.
What has she done to me?
He drove off in a panic, his body heated, his heart racing with anxiety.
What is wrong with me? That’s it! Never go back. Get her out of your mind... This is fucking ridiculous. You saw her, now let it go...
He sped off, swearing he’d never think of her again.
****
Two days later...
Jayme sat in her black skirt and jacket at the long, dark table. In the middle of it was a pitcher of water that shook intermittently as the tall, heavy man took several paces. She ran her sweaty palms against her upper thighs, warming the fabric of her clothing, trying to calm herself. She wanted to swipe a hair away from her shoulder, but it wouldn’t look right to make such a gesture, so she simply offered a half-hearted grin.
Why am I so nervous?
She wished she could tamper her nerves, but he was intimidating. Agent Bryant cleared his throat and set his gaze on her. Two more men entered the room, dressed in black suits, brandishing smiles...but the grins weren’t warm. One of the men walked briskly toward her, extending his hand. Jayme immediately rose from her seat.
“No, Officer Knight, please be seated.” She slowly sat back down, then shook his hand.
“May we get you anything? Coffee? Juice?”
“No, thank you.” She smiled up at the tawny skinned man. “My water is just fine.”
He nodded, keeping their eye lo
ck in check. The guy stood there, six foot four, African American, clean shaven with short dark hair and a pleasing demeanor. His suit didn’t wear him, he wore the suit. It was more than apparent that it had been professionally tailored for his football player physique, and to top it off, his voice was smooth...oh, so smooth, like malt liquor poured over cubed ice.
“My name is Agent Bryant, and I will be briefing you on this case.”
He sat next to her, causing his light cologne to tantalize her senses.
Pay attention to what he is saying, please...but damn he’s fine! These are just nerves. I’m trying to distract myself.I can’t believe I’m acting like this. It’s cool, I’m cool. Get your shit together, Jayme...
“Great. It’s nice to meet you, Agent Bryant.” She gave him a firm handshake, the kind that would make any man proud.
“Likewise,” he grinned as he adjusted his tie, loosening it ever so slightly from around his neck. Agent Peterson and Agent Brown sat down directly across from them. The sound of pouring water ran in the background like a tinkling waterfall, as Agent Bryant continued on.
“Now, as you know, your supervisor, Captain Jasper, explained, we requested one of his officers to assist us with this case. We need someone on the inside track, someone that knows the people in the neighborhood, someone that these people trust. We understand you have an exemplary record, a stellar reputation, and you have quite a bit of experience with working directly with the public, which has allowed you to build relationships with everyone from local business owners to your common, street hustler. Do I have that correct?” He grinned again, this time with an obvious flirtatious twist.
You are the damn FBI. You know all about me by now. You probably even know the last time I took a piss...
“I do know many of the people and I grew up here, so,” she shrugged, “people know who I am but I also work in disguise—and during those times, due to the excellent job of a professional theater make-up artist friend of mine, my own mother doesn’t even recognize me... I know, I tested the theory.” She chuckled. It was an attempt to make the two stone pillars trying to pass themselves off as men grin a bit. It worked.
