Remember Me

by Rainwater, Priscilla Poole

  Taking her hand in his, he kept one eye on her enraged husband as he kissed the back of her hand chastely. “The pleasure was all mine.” he murmured.

  “Come on.” Granger growled as he grabbed her arm with one hand, then threw money down on the table with the other.

  As Zeke watched the two of them leave, he frowned thoughtfully and took an absent- minded swig of his beer, which was now warm. Incredibly, he found himself missing the woman already, yearning, even, for her company. In the short time he had known her, he had come to believe she was the kind of woman his grandmother used to call “salt of the earth”. The woman genuinely seemed to have a kind heart, one not corrupted by power, wealth, pride, selfishness, or vanity. But the money is too good to pass up...... he reminded himself sternly.

  *********************************************

  Out for a walk in the chilly night air, Zeke took one last drag from his cigarette, then tossed it down at his feet and ground it underneath his heel. After Cassandra Mortensen and her irate husband had left, he had found himself strangely compelled to get some fresh air, in order to clear his thoughts.

  Despite his best efforts, he still couldn't shake the strange and unfamiliar emotions that were troubling him. The fact of the matter was, after meeting Cassandra Mortensen, he found himself unable to wrap his mind around the prospect of hurting her, let alone murdering her. Nothing, or no one, in his life had ever given him such a moment of pause, and it was as bewildering to him as it was inexplicably exhilarating. There was something so different about the woman, so powerful, so pure. At first he had merely been physically attracted to her (what man wouldn't be, he mused), but after getting to know her somewhat over a span of thirty short minutes, he had been astonished to find that he wasn't merely attracted by her physical beauty, but a beauty that had shone through her eyes, an inner beauty, an inner strength, and it made his own feelings rise far above petty lust.

  He wasn't deluding himself about any actual chance of a romantic relationship with the woman, in fact, he now felt ashamed of himself for pouring on the initial false charm. He felt he had soiled her, defiled her in some way, by his mere presence. As she had chatted away with him, he had gazed into her eyes and found himself wondering, for the first time in his life, what he had become, and how easily the path had seemed to unfold before him. Didn't you once want to be something better? WEREN'T you someone better? An unwelcome inner voice whispered, and he suddenly shuddered and pulled his trench coat tighter around his body, trying to shunt the voice to one side.

  The sudden ringing of his cell phone startled him from his reverie. The ring tone went to the tune of the song, 'Wanted, Dead or Alive', and up until one hour ago, he had always found it ironic and somewhat amusing. But at the moment, he found it appalling and morbid.

  Frowning, he stopped and reached into his pocket, then pulled the phone out and flipped it open. A text message was displayed, and the look on his face became even more troubled as he read: Have your money. Call me so we can meet and plan. Martina.

  Flipping the phone shut, he put it back in his pocket, then retrieved another cigarette and lit it with a shiny new Zippo. Taking a large drag, he inhaled, then exhaled, blowing a couple of slow, lazy smoke rings in the air. “Fuck it, you know you can't walk away from that kind of cash. Hell, no one is worth throwing that much money away.” he said to himself, then began his slow walk back to the hotel. “There's no finer feeling in the world than a huuuuge payday.” he muttered, then began repeating the phase over and over in his mind, like a mantra. He thought that if he repeated it enough, he might just start believing it again.

  **********************************************

  “I can't believe you were sitting there with a total stranger, like it was a Sunday Tea social! For all you knew, you could be have been talking to the very person who almost killed you!” Granger snapped at Cassandra in an outraged voice. “That's always been your problem, Cass, you automatically assume that anyone who smiles at you is friendly, when the truth of the matter is, the world is full of grinning motherfuckers who would just as soon kill you as to look at you!” he lectured, his anger growing instead of diminishing. And he meant it. She had always been too trusting, in his eyes, had always wanted to believe there was something good and decent in everyone, even if it was buried so deep it would never feel the kiss of sunshine. “I still can't understand it! When I finally found you again and approached you, you ran away like I was Adolph Hitler reincarnated! And here you were today, cheesing it up for some southern gentleman act that was every bit as genuine as a nine-dollar bill!”

  In no mood to argue, Cassandra remained silent as the elevator steadily climbed to the eighth floor.

  Knowing he shouldn't let his insecurities get the best of him, Granger ran his hands through his hair, took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “Damn, we take one step forward, then slip and slide two steps back.” he muttered.

  Coming to a stop, the elevator doors opened and they both stepped out, then walked down the hallway in silence towards their suite, which was only several yards away, on the hallway to the right.

  Turning the right hand corner, Cassandra took only two steps before stopping so suddenly Granger almost ran into her. “Brett, what are you doing here?” she squeaked, knowing that now was not the best time to be coming around, especially with her husband already so upset.

  Although it hurt him that she didn't seem pleased to see him, Brett put on his best smile anyway, then stepped forward, away from the door to their suite. “Hello, Cassandra. I came to check on you, see how your other doctor's appointment went.”

  “What are YOU doing here? Cassandra, go on inside.” Granger seethed, pointing in the direction of the door, then pinned Brett with a deadly look.

  Looking at her, Brett noticed her hands were suddenly clasped in front of her, and were trembling. She stood in silence, her mouth opening and closing, but no words came out. She was frozen to the spot like a deer caught in the headlights, and he knew he had to take full advantage of the moment. Like the perfect puppet master, he began pulling the strings. Cutting his eyes to her enraged husband, he replied, “Mr. Mortensen, her well being is very important to me, that's why I'm here. I'm concerned, and rightly so. After all, the person who's responsible for her attack is still at large, isn't HE?”

  “You low-down, dirty BASTARD!” Granger yelled as he clenched his fists and sprang forward.

  Desperate to avoid what was certain to be bloodshed, Cassandra suddenly sprang to life, spurred by the panic that had suddenly gripped her. Stepping in front of her enraged husband, she placed her tiny hands on his chest and dug her heels in. “No! Granger, DON'T!!!” she screamed, then looked up at him and recoiled in horror at the look in his eyes.

  Good, just a bit more pushing, and she'll run screaming from this caveman.... Brett thought with satisfaction as he saw the look of horror on her face. “Cassandra, have you been alright?” he asked in a gentle, concerned voice, then took a step forward and touched her arm tentatively, an intimate gesture he knew would further enrage the man.

  Nodding meekly, she absentmindedly pulled her arm away from him, wanting to ask him to leave, but unable to speak.

  “Don't you ever put your filthy Goddamn hands on her again.” Granger growled as he grabbed his wife's arm with one hand, and pulled the key card out of his shirt pocket with the other. Quickly opening the door, he gave Cassandra a gentle shove inside, then closed the door and turned his attention back to Brett.

  Taking several steps back, Brett stopped and braced himself, physically, and mentally. He watched in silence as Granger slipped the card into the back pocket of his jeans, then began stalking towards him slowly, like a predator. He had always considered himself a man of class and intellect, and he didn't like fighting, especially when the odds weren't in his favor, so he closed his eyes briefly and reminded himself, I'm doing this for the woman I love, she has to see what a simpleton he is, what a brute he is. And that no matte
r how much money he may have, he can never be my equal...

  Finally standing toe-to-toe with his hated rival, Granger towered over him menacingly and growled in a deceptively calm voice, “I told you before to stay away from her.”

  Bracing himself again, Brett shot a quick glance at the suite door, did some quick mental calculations, then looked up into the man's stormy eyes and loudly croaked, “You've got to understand, this is exactly why I've always been concerned for her safety. Your temper is legendary, Mr. Mortensen, legendary. And like I said earlier, the person who attacked her all those years ago is still at large, isn't he?”

  Granger suddenly snapped and grabbed the man by the shirt collar. Lifting him off his feet to where they were seeing eye-to-eye, he slammed him against the corridor wall and pinned him there. “Little man, did you think I was kidding when I said I wouldn't have a problem killing your worthless ass?” he hissed as his grip tightened on the shirt collar, making it difficult for Brett to breathe.

  Willing himself to not panic, he thought, This is for Cassandra, you know you have to push those buttons. She has to see it for herself, or at least hear it! Gathering all his courage, he managed to actually smirk as he replied, “No, I didn't think you were kidding, you've proven your point already, at least in my estimation. But I still care about her, and I care enough to do whatever it takes to ensure her safety, even if it means crossing a man such as YOU. After all, I've seen to her needs, both emotional and physically, for the past three years. Of the two of us, I'm unquestionably the one best suited to take care of her.”

  Infuriated beyond the capacity for rational thought, Granger suddenly began shaking the man like a rag doll and slamming his head against the wall. “You fucking punk, you're DEAD!” he screamed.

  “Granger, STOP, you'll KILL HIM!!!” Cassandra screamed as she hurled the suite door open and rushed out into the hallway. Grabbing one of her husband's arms with both her hands, she tried in vain to pull it loose from the death grip it still held on the hapless doctor. “Please, Granger you have to stop, NOW!” she begged as she began to cry. “Malcolm! MALCOLM!!! HELP!” she screamed as loudly as she could, hoping against hope that the man was in his room and had heard her cries for help.

  “Jesus Christ ALMIGHTY, what in GOD's name is going on out here?” Malcolm bellowed as the door to his own suite flew open and he stepped outside. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, it took only a nano-second for his razor-sharp mind to process what was transpiring. Lunging forward quickly, he wrapped his powerful arms around his boss, trying to pull him off the smaller man, and to his astonishment, found it was like trying to wrestle a refrigerator up a flight of stairs. “Granger, calm down, let him go, you're scaring your wife.” he bellowed in desperation, hoping the specter of his beloved wife being frightened of him again would bring the man back to his senses. “Calm down man, did you hear what I said, you're upsetting your wife!”

  Relinquishing his hold at last, Granger watched in numb horror as Brett slid down the wall, gasping for breath, and his wife ran forward and got down on her hands and knees to comfort him. “Brett, Brett, are you alright?” she asked anxiously, then glanced fearfully over her shoulder at him.

  “What's going on out here, as if I couldn't guess?” a quiet voice asked, and they all turned to see Jocelyn walking towards them, tying her robe shut.

  Looking back at his wife, terror lanced Granger's heart at the look of horror on her face “I'm sorry, Cass, I didn't mean to...he just...” he stammered, then took a step forward and stopped as she scrambled to her feet fearfully.

  Never taking her eyes off Granger, she leaned over and offered her hand to Brett, which he took, then helped pull him to his feet.

  Stepping forward, Jocelyn slowly wrapped her arm around Cassandra's waist and spoke in a quiet voice. “Come on honey, come with me, let Malcolm handle this.” she said, leading her slowly back inside the suite.

  The moment the door closed behind them, Malcolm took charge. Nudging his stunned boss out of the way, he snatched Brett's shirt collar himself, and none too gently. “Go to my room, give her time to calm down. I'm sure security is on their way already. Don't worry, I'll handle them.” he instructed his boss.

  Looking at him numbly, Granger simply nodded.

  Satisfied, Malcolm began half carrying, half dragging the hapless doctor towards the elevator. Once there, he suddenly remembered one of his favorite sitcom characters of all time, Al Bundy, from the show 'Married With Children', and what Al used to do to loser suitors who were dating his beloved daughter, Kelly. Grabbing the man by the scruff of the neck, he banged his head on the elevator door, not hard enough to bruise, but just hard enough to drive an unspoken point home. “Sorry about that bud.” he chuckled as he belatedly reached out and punched the button for the ground floor. “I'm a little uncoordinated today."

  When the elevator door finally opened (it was empty) Malcolm leaned forward and murmured, “This is your lucky day, doctor, I'm gonna' let you off with a warning. And that warning is, if you dare set foot back in this place, or her place, or his place, I'll be the one fucking you up, not my boss. And believe me when I say I'm not as nice as he is. And by the way, thanks to the good ol' Navy, I know a hundred different methods of turning you into fish bait, and making sure that bait is never found, you dig?”

  Nodding his head in silence, Brett's expression remained impassive.

  “Good.” Malcolm muttered, then shoved him inside.

  **************************************************

  Inside Malcolm's suite, Granger paced back and forth anxiously. “What have I done, what have I done, she'll never trust me now.” he moaned as he slapped his forehead angrily, then headed straight for the bar and poured four fingers of bourbon, which he downed in one giant gulp.

  Putting the glass down, he made his way to the bathroom. Turning on the cold water at the sink, he splashed the cool water onto his burning face. “Man oh man, did I lose it or what? Just like I did the night I killed my father.” he muttered as he grabbed a towel and dried his face.

  Making his way back to the bar, he poured another four fingers into the glass, then headed for the couch, where he sat down heavily and sighed. After all, I've seen to her needs, both emotional and physical, for the past three years. Of the two of us, I'm unquestionably the one best suited to take care of her... Brett's words still haunted him. “How could she sleep with that prick?” he muttered. “Is that why she doesn't want another doctor, so she can keep seeing him? Well, that'll happen over my cold, dead body!”

  Throwing his drink back in yet another single, giant gulp, he got up and stormed out of the room to his own suite, where he found Jocelyn pacing nervously herself. “Where is she?” he demanded.

  Nodding towards the bedroom, she replied, “She said she was going to take a hot shower. Son, I think it's best if you left, at least for a little while. You've no idea how upset she really is.”

  “Listen, Jocelyn, I can appreciate that, but I'm not leaving. I had every right in the world to do what I did. He stood there, looked me in the face, and dared to admit he's slept with her. I mean, how else would any man react?”

  Shaking her head sadly, she replied, “Granger..Granger...boy, sometimes you're like a bull, when someone waves a damn red cape in front of you, you just charge without thinking. The man was just playing you like a fiddle, ya' bonehead! I swear, for such a sharp business man, you can be thick as cow shit on a brick sometimes!”

  They both turned as the bedroom door opened and Cassandra stepped out, dressed in a matching cream gown and robe. Although simple in design, it clung to her full curves perfectly, and Granger couldn't help but think, How many times has Brett seen her dressed like that? Looking sooo beautiful. His eyes never wandering from the vision of his lovely wife, he asked Jocelyn, “Mother, could you give us a few moments alone, please?”

  Nodding, Jocelyn started for the door but stopped as her daughter lunged forward and grabbed her arm.

  “
Mom, please stay.” she begged.

  Patting her hand reassuringly, she smiled. “Cassandra, baby, you know I would never leave you if I believed for one second that he would hurt you. Trust me honey, please. Give the man a chance.” she replied as she leaned forward and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then turned to leave.

  When they were alone, Cassandra turned to see her husband still staring at her with a neutral expression on his face.

  “Well, is it true, what he said? Did you sleep with him?” he asked in a quiet voice.

  Crossing her arms under her full breasts, she looked at him in angry, leery silence for a moment. “You have your nerve, you know that?” she finally said. “So, you tell ME, is it true, what she said? Did you sleep with that read headed witch?” she mocked as jealousy began to worm its way through her, making her feel slightly nauseated. “I may have trouble remembering things at the moment, but she made it crystal clear about the two of you.”