Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy

by Cayce Poponea

  “What? But he’s married!”

  “Apparently marriage is not a good form of birth control. You would think a nurse would know this, clearly not.”

  Well at least she knows who the father is, or maybe she is just picking the one who will give her the best life in the end. O’Leary can go back to his homeland, and practice medicine, giving her the finer things in life. She’d better hope he doesn’t suspect the baby isn’t his, and demand a DNA test.

  “Did she mention if he was getting a divorce? I mean, if not that could make the holidays really interesting.”

  “She didn’t mention it, but with her track record, she may not even care.”

  Claire began to yawn and since those things are contagious no matter if you’re close or not, I told her to get into bed. “Besides Dylan should be calling you soon, and you can enjoy a little phone sex to help you forget the dullness of your day.”

  “Don’t I wish.” She scoffed. “Dylan is out doing some investigating for Ms. Priscilla.”

  “Huh?”

  “Uh huh, she didn’t like the way Audrey was acting the other day. She thinks there is something going on in her personal life that could be dangerous. So she has Dylan following her for a few days.”

  What in the world would be going on with Audrey? The girl was sweeter than homemade pecan pie, and twice as polite. I would have to remember to follow-up on that one.

  Not a full minute had passed, as I ended the call with Claire that the bell on the front door sounded. I knew it wasn’t Heidi since I’d asked her three times to show me she had her key with her. Looking out the peephole, a mass of scruffy chin waited for on the other side. Unlocking the door in a hurry, my need to be close to him increasing by the second.

  As the lock disengaged, the door opened before I could turn the knob. Austin pushing passed the solid wood, lifting me to his chest, as his hungry mouth consumed mine. His hands cupped my face, as my calves find the corner of my coffee table. He doesn’t stop as he moves us past the couch, down the hall, and onto my unmade bed. He hitched his hand under my left leg, grinding his very prominent erection against my heated core.

  How does he do this to me? Takes me away from the shadows which plagued me, turning them into tiny prickles which carry me to a higher level of wanton. Rising up on his forearms, his eyes reflected the desire his body was conveying. I can’t keep my fingers from reaching for his dark hair, diving up to my knuckles into his thick locks.

  His eyes close as he tips his head back, a deep, guttural moan creating more heat in my core. Adding my fingernails, gently at first, then increasing until his pelvis once again grinds into me. His lips found the skin of my neck, teeth nibbling on the soft skin, eliciting my own moan.

  “Lainie.” Even his voice sends me into a new level, so masculine and fucking deep. Everything about him drives me crazy, making me willing to do things I have only read about. Anything to get me closer to him, beneath him, as he takes such care in pleasing me.

  With his mouth busy sucking my nipple, his dark eyes locked on mine increasing somehow the effect of the pleasure. I have to watch him, take in every sensation he gives me. The point of his tongue as it circles around my hardened peak. How he flattens it as he licks his way around my tender flesh, flicking the nipple after every pass.

  I have no clue how we are both naked, and honestly I don’t fucking care. My breath is coming in pants, a side of effect of his fingers buried deep inside me. I’m already so close, always so damn close. Austin is skilled in leading me here, dangling me off the edge, and then just before I beg, he jumps with me.

  He knows my favorite position, the one which allows me to control the pressure. I know he loves it too, as it brings my nipples directly in his line of vision. With his back against my headboard, and my legs straddling his hips, I crave the feeling of him buried deep inside me. Austin doesn’t disappoint or make me wait. Tonight, he is letting me find my rhythm. I ride him without worrying how I look, or how embarrassing the halfcocked words are which race out of my mouth without my permission.

  As I set across his pelvis, sweat covers the majority of our bodies. My forehead pressed to his, sharing our labored breathing, I love how his breath and body smell.

  It happens naturally, we both pull back enough to look into each other eyes. There is so much I want to say to him, to tell him of the deep feelings I have. But it’s too soon for me to have this passion, this need for him to stay right where he is.

  His hands leave my hips, taking my face in his palms once again, there is something in his blue eyes, something deep and consuming.

  “I love you, Lainie.”

  My breathing stops, heart skipping about thirty beats. He’s said it, the words I’ve been keeping inside, afraid to prematurely release them. But he feels the same way, and the smile, which I can see reflected in his eyes, is just for him.

  “I love you, too.” I shake my head in quick repetition, the first happy tear journeying down my face, followed in a hurry by many more. Austin leaned forward and began kissing them away. This is bliss, happiness in its purest form. It’s also rendering us both completely deaf. Neither one of us heard Heidi, as she called out my name when she entered the house, bounding into my bedroom where we are still connected in a lover’s embrace.

  “Oh, shit!” Heidi covers her eyes with her hand, her mouth still hanging wide open. “I’m so sorry.” She mumbled as she backed out of the room, stumbling over the edge of her shoe, nearly falling in the process.

  I’m too full of joy and Austin to even think of being embarrassed. Ignoring the sheet he tries to cover me with, I pull his mouth to mine, kissing him with everything I have.

  Good women always think it is their fault when someone else is being offensive. Bad women never take the blame for anything.

  ~ Anita Brookner.

  Being interrupted last night, reminded me it was past time I found a place to live. While Dylan insisted he didn’t mind having me, I needed a space of my own. Someplace where I was free to love on my girl, as often as I chose. It would solve the issue of Chase’s refusal to have anything to do with me, including stopping by our parent’s home if I was there. I wanted to shake him, ask him if the girl was really worth all this friction created by his attitude. Dylan believed in his plan to sit the boy down and have our parents talk with him. He wanted to present the facts we had, and the new evidence we’d uncovered. I had my doubts he would listen. Either way, I had my realtor looking for a place to rent for a year. I was hoping my home would be ready in that time frame, allowing all my plans to be set into motion.

  Dylan and I had worked extra hard at the gym this morning, although he had almost fallen asleep several times. He was trying to wake up to face the day after being out most of the night. Momma had been known to have these uneasy feelings from time to time and both Granddaddy and Daddy warned us it was best to listen when those happened. Dylan had sat outside a single wide trailer in an older model Honda, sitting up on blocks, with the hood open and a tarp covering the exposed engine.

  As we spotted for each other, he mentioned he saw Audrey park the car we had given her in the front parking lot where the manager’s office was located. Then walk nearly five blocks to the trailer he watched her go into, yet not a single light had ever shone through the windows.

  “Was there room in the driveway for more than one car?”

  “Yep, even when the shiny new Chevy pulled up around three this mornin’, there was still plenty of room.” Dylan sat the weights he had just finished lifting back in the holder, and turned back in my direction. “Even when the tall guy went inside the door, the lights still didn’t come on.” He shook his head, a perplexed look on his face.

  “Maybe the guy didn’t want to wake Audrey?” I reasoned, trying to play devil’s advocate.

  “Oh, I highly doubt that.” He picked up another set of weights, facing the mirror, as he began another repetition of curls. “He made enough noise to wake the dead when he tripped through t
he door, screaming her name like it was her fault.”

  Dylan was never one to hide his anger, he used different methods to control it, especially when a lady was involved. He also used it to intimidate people. I noticed how the veins on his neck were bulging; he was using the weights to release the anger he had toward the guy from Audrey’s.

  “Momma’s right,” he set the weights down again, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. “Something ain’t right over at Audrey’s.”

  As I picked up my phone, I suspected he wanted me to do a check on someone involved with Audrey.

  “You know the drill, I need as much information as you can give me.”

  Lainie was as sweet as she could be, leaving a cup of coffee waiting for me on my desk. While the coffee was lukewarm, you’d never hear this old boy complaining. I’d drink cold coffee everyday if it kept her by my side.

  I adjusted my keyboard closer so that I could work, but my ringing phone interrupted me. Seeing it was Dylan, I picked it up, but he spoke in a rush before I could respond with something crude.

  “Listen, I need you to get in your car, and get over to Silver Dollar Pawn on Temple Street. I’ll be waiting.”

  Dylan was still technically a detective, as his year of leave hadn’t expired. He still carried his badge and his gun everywhere he went. So receiving a call where he gave such direct instructions, left no room for argument, and had me speeding down the road.

  Silver Dollar Pawn, was located in what many of the locals referred to as pawn row. Being near the sheriff’s office, the stores varied between pawn shops, and bail bonds offices. One could assume the two businesses went hand in hand. Dylan’s car was parked right out front. Like a bait shop in the middle of Macy’s, his Italian sports car looked out of place. I remembered the day he got the car, and the phone call he woke me with. He had gone with Carson and Miss Georgia to one of those auctions where they sell storage units when people forget to pay their bill. Dylan had gone, only to have Carson sign a report he needed to turn in. When nobody was bidding on this one particular unit, Dylan tossed out a bid for twenty five dollars. A few minutes later, the auctioneer pointed at him and hollered ‘sold’. He’d paid the money, figuring it was going to be full of old clothes, and expired bills. Instead, there was a pinball machine, and the car currently parked, taking up two spaces.

  Opening the aged metal and glass door, I was greeted by the dull sound of the alarm ringing off in the distance. Last time I was here, there was a copper cowbell hanging by a cord on the door. The owner must have sold it, and now had to make due with the vintage alarm.

  Dylan stood against the glass display case, which doubled as the area to do all forms of business. His ankles crossed, and his belt buckle on display, reminding people who he was. Beside him stood a thick man, darker skinned, with initials cut into the hair on the side of his head. A thin line of hair followed the edge of his jawline, his skin wet with perspiration.

  “Hey, Austin.”

  A conversation from not so far back flashed to the front of my mind. Dylan had spoken of a man who was a gangster wanna be. Seeing the letters carved in his already short hair, and as I grew closer, the tattoo of a crown on his exposed neck, I figured this was the man.

  “Morgan.” When Dylan first made detective, we all ganged up on him, as brothers often do, and gave him a landslide of nicknames. Since I wasn’t certain the nature of the man beside him, I felt it best not to reveal our true relationship.

  My eyes flashed briefly to the large, sweaty man beside him, and then moved to the side, revealing a shallow, flat box on the counter. The box housed what appeared to be pieces of a chess set, one that looked familiar. Dylan picked up on of the pieces, the King to be specific, and then nodded to the space beside him, indicating for me to follow him.

  As I approached the corner of the display case, I got a much better view of the remaining pieces. It became clear this was a set very similar to the one Granddaddy had given me. Pictures of me kissing the life out of Lainie last night, as I’d left her, and her embarrassed sister behind, flashed to the forefront of my mind. Endless kisses and assurance of new love had been exchanged countless times.

  “Early this mornin’, I got a call from Lainie.” He placed a firm hand on my forearm, resting against the glass and cardboard. “Don’t freak out, she is fine.” He gripped my arm firmer, as I hadn’t even realized my body had tightened. “She was leaving the house when she noticed your chess set was missing from the table. Heidi had already left for school, and the house was still locked. She didn’t know if she should call the police or if—“ Dylan’s eyes took on a hard look, searching mine with a trace of disappointment behind his blue orbs. “—you had changed your mind about her.”

  My gut heaved from the weight of his words. Loving Lainie came so easy, made my world seamless, and complete.

  “I knew better. Hell, a blind man could see how you feel about that girl. So I told her to stay home, take a hot bath and relax. I would find out where the chess set was. I assured her you were not the type of man to slide out the back door on a girl.”

  A huge lump was rising in my throat at the thought of my girl thinking I didn’t want her. I would call her once this was all sorted out, but for now I needed to place her mind at ease.

  Dylan told me everything. You can’t get rid of me that easy, I’ll call you later, I love you!

  I looked up from my phone screen, as the swishing sound of the text headed toward its intended target sounded.

  Dylan tapped his fist three times on the glass counter. “All right, Lardo. Tell me how this wound up in your sausage fingers, because we all know you are not a chess player.”

  The man he referred to as Lardo—a spin off on his actual name I assumed—adjusted his feet, the rubbing sound of cheap leather protesting from his movement. “How youse knows I don’t play chess? I could be some champion or some shit.”

  “Sure, and I’m Mother fuckin Theresa. Show me which one of these is the Cycle.” Dylan pointed to the box containing the set. I held my tongue, and my laughter anticipating him actually selecting a piece. The man huffed, and with as much confidence as I have when I play, pulled the Rook out, rocking it back and forth, just inches from Dylan’s face.

  “This is the Cycle. See I told youse I was a champion.” Lardo presented it as if he truly believed what he was saying. If this was the same guy Dylan had spoken about, the gang member, he must have had a lot of practice.

  Dylan snatched the piece from his fat fingers, disgust contorting his face. “Yeah, the champion of bullshit, even I know this is the Rook. A cycle is something you cut wheat with, not play chess.”

  Lardo didn’t flinch or argue, only watched as Dylan laid the piece carefully back into the box. “Now, tell me how you got this.” He moved to stand mere inches from Lardo’s face, and I admit, without reserve, his tone caused me to take note.

  He pulled his face back, smacking his teeth with his lips and tongue, resulting in an annoying sucking sound. “I told youse man, my girl goes to yard sales and shit. Some of it she puts online, other shit she has me sell.”

  Dylan moved his eyes to the man behind the counter, the same man who was here before. Everything in the store looked pretty much the same as it had before, with few exceptions. One being the new cameras I noticed now patrolled the front of the store. I was glad to see he had taken my suggestion.

  “Give me a ballpark of how much this set is worth?”

  I could have answered that question, as I had it appraised recently for my new insurance policy. With the pieces being genuine, the value reached the double digits. The pawn shop owner took a piece into his hand, and looked at it beneath his jeweler’s loop, twisting and turning it in the lights above.

  “It’s a good clean set, very old. You’re looking at around five grand.” He removed his glasses from his nose, as he replaced the piece back into the box.

  “The way I see it, Lardo, we can play this one of two ways. I can
arrest your ass for possession of stolen property, and haul you down to the station, where I’ll have them book you on felony charges since the value is more than five hundred dollars. You’ll get a date with the judge, one that ends with you wearing a lot of orange, and your girlfriend getting a new man to sell her yard sale garbage to.”

  Lardo opened his mouth to protest, his finger pointed at the box.

  “Did I give you the impression I was finished?’ Leave it to my brother to add sarcasm to his interrogation. But Lardo bought it, shaking his head back and forth. “You can claim the set is your girls, but it won’t matter because this set is in fact stolen, taken from the man beside you.” He nodded in my direction. Lardo turned slightly in my direction, eyes wide with fear. “I know for fact he will want to press charges for you breaking into his girl’s house, and taking his shit.”

  Lardo started backing up, hands raised and shaking his head. “Oh, hell no! I didn’t break into no house. I ain’t going down for that shit.”

  “Then I’d recommend you start talkin’.”

  Lardo dropped his head, and placed both hands on the counter as if he were under arrest. “I swear, man, I didn’t break into no house.” Dylan waves his hand around encouraging him to get on with his story. “I know this chick, Gina, fine looking bitch. Big tits and tight ass, know what I’m sayin’?”

  “Where do we find this big titted Gina? You have her tied in your momma’s basement or something?”

  “Nah, man. I was at this party like maybe two years ago, and there was this dude, he brought some blow, and was making friends with everyone. He and I gots to talkin’, and I tell him about my gaming setup in my basement. With the grade of blow he is sharing, I tell him I can get him any game he wants for free. He seemed real interested in playin’ online and shit. A few days later, I’m in the middle of kicking the shit out of some zombies, when he hits me with a request to join a party.”