by C. L. Black
“I thought I’d go like this. I was sure you’d like it too.” She enhanced the already most-evil smile.
“Suit yourself, young lady.” I love you so much. “It’s going to be a long two days with just that one outfit.” Please come back to me.
Her evil melted. “What two days? I thought it would only take a few hours to get to New Hampshire.” She addressed Miss Christi. “My mom said you own a jet.”
“Yes, dear, I do. Very fast one too.” Miss Christi turned to Catherine’s mom. “Didn’t you tell her about tonight?”
“Oh, didn’t I? That’s right. You’re having dinner in New York, tonight. Sorry, kitten.”
Other than just then and last night, her mom hadn’t called her kitten since the day she saw her in those boots. She’d always called her, “my little kitten.” Lately though, it had been, “you little young lady,” or, when she was really pissed, “you little whore,” or, “you little slut!” Right now, she wanted to put her Catherine over her knee and whack that firm little bottom. She managed to control herself though. At least she could think it. Teenagers…
Miss Christi and Danielle made their good-byes.
Danielle ordered, “Back in the car princess. Want some help with your lap—”
“No.” Click. “Do you?”
“Not today, princess. Thanks for asking though.”
Soon the three were on the move again. They left the cemetery’s main gate behind and headed straight across the Potomac toward the Capital.
Catherine quickly became agitated and demanded, “Why the fuck are we going this way? Doesn’t your stupid bitch driver know the airport’s back there? Back that way, on the other side of the river!” Growing flustered, she pointed back, in the direction of Reagan National. Sarcastically, Catherine attempted to be humorous. “Just follow the planes,” she said, as she added a fake laugh.
Silent with glee, Danielle continued toward the capital.
Catherine undid her lap belt and bent forward. She got right up in Danielle’s ear and growled through gritted teeth. “Hey, you dumb little bitch, you’re going the wrong way! Turn this fucking car around or I’ll kick your cute tight ass.” Shit!
“Thanks, baby, but this is the best way to Union. Really.”
Baby… She caught Danielle’s, nice eyes, in the rearview mirror and screamed, “Union Station!” nearly blowing out the girl’s eardrum. “Fuck!”
“Why, yes, dear. It’s where we board the Acela Express for New York.”
Catherine turned back. “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why aren’t we flying? It’s like, way fuckin’ faster, you know.” Her disturbed mind was racing. Acting more childish by the second, she started an eye fight with that bitch. “No!” Shit, fuck! What the fuck am I gunna do about this? “Who fucking like, takes the train anymore?” Shit! Got to tell my BP. She shut it, sat back, and opened her Coach. Retrieving her iPhone, she thumbed in a text and hit Send.
Plan changed! Not flying. Meet MK at Union Station. Hurry! Love MK.
Excusing the offensive words, Miss Christi responded, “Well, that may be true, my dear, but what’s our hurry? Do you wish to get to the Castle sooner than tomorrow?”
Catherine regrouped and answered, a little shaky. “Well, no, Grandma. I just didn’t, like, think anybody took the train when they could get there in two hours by flying.” Having revised her plan to escape, she was still trying not to appear flustered while she waited for her BP’s response.
Castle? What the fuck is she talking about? Catherine fell back, clutching her iPhone tightly, resting it in her lap. It was her only remaining lifeline. She held it tight, leaned her head against the window, and waited for BP’s reply.
Repent My Brother
Union Station, 11:22 local
The pleasant weather had the usual street characters out panhandling the tourists. That churchless preacher guy was at his usual spot with his megaphone, shouting out to all the sinners. “Repent, my brother and sister!” Only a few tourists bothered to notice. Danielle delivered them to the steps of the main entrance.
“I’ll meet you outside Penn at the usual spot,” said Danielle, talking softly to the windshield as she braked to a stop. “I see the temptress waiting on the steps, just up ahead. No word from Miss Jane yet. If anything changes, just say the word. I’ll meet you.” She was speaking to Miss Christi, using their covert communications technology. Catherine took no notice of their tiny earpieces.
Miss Christi nodded her acknowledgment as they exited the Mercedes. Though she was turning sixty-nine in September, Miss Christi was in exceptional physical condition. She maintained the fit appearance of someone at least ten years younger. “Would you like to join me in some lunch, my dear? We have enough time before our train is scheduled to leave.” They were booked in first class on the 1 p.m. Acela Express for New York’s Penn Station.
“Fuck yeah, I’m starving. Let’s go to Uno’s.”
They trotted up the granite steps, through the front entry doors. Inside the main concourse, they headed straight for the restaurant on the second level. As they walked, Catherine remained unaware that they were under surveillance by the pair of Blachmann Cougars.
“Good morning, Mum. Sorry—”
Jane’s sudden vocal appearance had startled Miss Christi, causing her to stumble as she ascended the stairs.
“Hey! Watch it, Gran.” Catherine’s snatch was lightning fast, saving Miss Christi from disaster. “I got you.” She offered an arm. “Those heels too tall for you?”
“Oh, thank you, dear.” Miss Christi maintained a solid grip on Catherine’s arm even after they reached the second level. “You’re my good knight in shining armor.”
GoodKnight… She shook free of Miss Christi’s grasp and said, “Yeah, sure.” Told ya.
“Sorry, Mum. I have your back. Nice little kitty you’re bringing me. Never thought I’d see those bloody boots again. Never thought I’d see her either.” Even from that distance, the resemblance was striking. “I think we’re in for a bloody hot summer.” She observed, the pretender, from the upper level. She’d been there waiting, watching for trouble since leaving Pete. She took in one eyeful of Catherine’s booted legs. Jane was sure of one thing. Katrina’s kid was trouble.
Many years had passed since Miss Christi’s last field assignment. She wasn’t comfortable having voices in her ear. That assignment hadn’t gone as planned either. They made their way into Uno’s. Catherine told the hostess to seat them by the balcony overlooking the main concourse. She chose a seat that afforded a clear view of everyone coming and going below.
Following them in was Miss Christi’s lead operative. Jane took a seat at the bar next to a heavyset airline pilot. He was sweaty and smelled. But the position gave a good vantage point from which those coming and going could be easily observed. She watched and listened as they opened their menus. Catherine’s seating choice didn’t go unnoticed by Miss Christi or her Cougars. They suspected she might have an accomplice.
“What are you in the mood for, my dear?”
Ignoring her, Catherine reached for her iPhone and checked for new texts. None. She turned and focused her attention back to the station’s main hall. She searched without success for her accomplice.
“Um, I need to pee.”
“I’m going with the chicken Caesar. And you, my dear?”
No response. Catherine banged away with her thumbs, sending that BP another angry WTFRU text. The well-pierced butch server returned to take their drink order.
“What can I get you young ladies to drink today?”
Catherine looked up and smiled. Maybe eighteen or nineteen? She flipped her hair and said, “I’d like a double Jack on the rocks, hun.” She waited for a reaction, but Miss Christi wasn’t fazed and didn’t intercede. “Oh, hun, where’s the ladies room?”
“May I see some ID please, miss?” asked their server in a disbelieving tone.
“I’ll have a hot tea please, dear.”
Catherine reached into h
er Coach and produced a Maine driver’s license. She lifted her slender arm and offered the fake ID to the server with a disarming smile that contained more that a hint of delightful seduction.
The distracted server checked the ID and then looked to Miss Christi, who acted as if nothing was out of the ordinary. The server again studied the ID then handed it back with an approving look. “Here you go, miss.” She pointed. “Over there, past the bar.”
“Thanks, hun.” Catherine rose from her seat and added, “When do I get to see yours?” She towered over the well-pierced server.
“How about tonight, Miss GoodKnight,” whispered the server, making eyes. “I’ll have your drinks right away, ladies.”
Catherine strutted off to the bar area. She paused to look back at Miss Christi. Bye-bye, Gran. She started for the exit. The pilot seated at the bar reached out, tugged her arm, and said with authority, “Hey, miss, restroom’s that way.” As the pilot pointed, a slightly tall, slender redhead with freckles stepped forward and said in an equally loud voice, “Nice boots, honey. Where’d you get them?”
“Thanks, mister.” Catherine glanced back at Miss Christi with a big smile. Guess now’s not the time to make a break for it. She growled, “eBay,” and headed for the restroom.
The redhead followed.
Once inside, she started texting. Fuck me. What does Freckles want? Shit. She’s coming over.
“Hi, honey. Name’s Sam. How much?”
“Fuck off! I’m booked.” Catherine entered a stall and latched the door. Fuck! Why hasn’t BP shown up yet? She yanked her panties, hiked up her mini, sat, and got busy. She re-sent the text and added a PLEASE. This time she received a reply:
BP sorry. Can’t meet U 2day. 2 much work 2day. 2morro??
The redhead entered the adjacent stall. “Hey, honey, this enough? Can I come over?”
Fuck! Something was touching her boot. She looked down to see the redhead’s hand under the stall. Two new hundreds. Her heart started pounding. She thumbed quick and sent:
MK VERY PISSED OFF! BP must come get MK NOW! In the Unos Restroom.
Come NOW! Please.
A quick response:
BP VERY SAD / working / G2G / BP LOVE MK
“Come on, honey. So how much for a lick job?”
“I said, fuck off!” She thrust her right stiletto down for added emphasis.
“Hey! Easy, baby! What, you only do dicks?”
“I’m not that kind of a girl.”
“Sure you are. I can get us a room.”
Seconds later, she heard another woman enter the restroom. Seeing her best chance for escape, Catherine stood, mounted her panties, and muttered, “Fuck you, bitch!” She burst from the stall, heading back to the safety of, Grandma.
“Everything alright dear? Your face, it’s quite pale.”
“Yeah.” She was shaking. “Where’s that little dyke with my fuckin’ drink?”
The interested server soon returned with their beverages. “What would you like, ma’am?”
“May I have a chicken Caesar with the dressing on the side?”
“No problem, ma’am.” She scribbled on her pad. “And what can I get for you, Miss Good—”
“Same thing, butch!”
“No problem, miss! Have those out right away.” The distraught server turned quick to hide her face and started off.
“Miss Black! Did your parents not teach you to be polite?”
“What?” Finally! She has a button.
“Please, thank you, and you’re welcome?” Her expression conveyed only disappointment.
What? “Oh yeah. They like, taught me that shit. I guess.” Granny must be hard of hearing. I called that little Goth butch a dyke. “Didn’t you hear me?” Shut up.
“Yes, I’m sure they taught you dear. But did you learn?” It was clear; their Catherine’s head was elsewhere. “Nice phone. Where did you get those delightful boots, my dear?”
“What? Huh? Ah, I got them from my—” MK caught herself. “They were like, an early birthday present.”
“Yes, they’re quite stunning, my dear.” Miss Christi and Catherine both took a moment and admired the boots. Miss Christi was certain she’d encountered them before. “May I?” She touched one. “You don’t see boots made from real patent very often these days. And, those lovely heels. They must be quite expensive.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“How tall are those lovely heels?”
“Huh?” She took her eye off her iPhone to check. “I don’t fricken know. Like, four and a half, I guess. Who cares?”
“Just curious, my dear. I always like seeing a nice pair of boots on a woman.”
“Yeah, me too.” Fuck! BP… Answer me!
“Who gave them to you, dear?”
Catherine snapped. “None of your fucking business! Okay?” Her venom cast a chill over the restaurant as their equally chilled server returned with the twins. Maybe the salad would keep her mouth at bay. The food calmed her.
“Enjoying the whiskey, my dear? You’ve barely touched it.”
“Yeah. It’s okay, I guess.” Catherine never thought Miss Christi would let her get the drink. She took another swallow. She wants to know if I’m enjoying this shit. She sat there trying to decide if Grandma was either, really cool, yeah, or really retarded. She took another sip. “Yuck!” Catherine couldn’t stand the taste, and it burned all the way down.
“I was never much of a whiskey drinker myself. My Katherine was though. Scotch, only the best would do. Old Poultney. The seventeen-year. Not me, dear. I get tipsy. Never could get used to the taste, or the way it burned my throat. A little too masculine for my tastes. When did you develop your interest in spirits my dear?”
“What?” Listening with one ear, Catherine continued to scan the main hall below them. She still held out hope that she’d spot her accomplice. “Huh? I don’t know. A long time ago. I was like twelve or thirteen, I guess.” She devoured her salad.
“Now, I do enjoy the occasional glass of Cabernet, with dinner, mind you. But, never more than two, dear.” Miss Christi giggled. “Goes right to my head.”
“I’m still hungry.”
“Would you like a sweet treat, dear?”
“What?”
“Dessert? Would you like a treat, my dear? We have time.”
It wasn’t long before the server arrived with an enormous chocolate chip cookie smothered with vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, and whipped cream. “Here you are, ladies.”
Catherine proceeded to whittle away at the delicious monstrosity, using her spoon with alarming precision. She’d consumed slightly more than half its two thousand listed calories when she paused to sip. Jack fuckin’ sucks. Maybe it gets better with age. Wish I ordered the root beer.
Miss Christi couldn’t take it any longer. “May I have a taste, dear? It looks so delicious. May I?” She peered into the disheveled gooey remains, a youthful wanting in her eyes.
“Oh yeah. Sure, Gran. Help yourself. It’s really good.”
“My one weakness, dear. I love sweet naughty treats.” Miss Christi went for it, plunging her spoon deep into the sweet sticky mess.
“Yeah, me too.” Catherine smiled, showing true joy for the first time.
“Thank you, dear.”
“Please, have some more, Gran.” They both shared what was left.
Miss Christi finished off her tea and blotted her lips.
Catherine’s iPhone danced. “’Bout fuckin’ time.” She picked it up to read the text.
Can’t help anymore today. BP very sorry. Meet U tomorrow.
PS: MJ loves MK’s boots too.
“What the fuck!” The sweet smile melted and left her lips bitter. She tossed the traitor into her Coach and flipped her hair. Anger scrolled across her brow. She reached for the Jack.
“Something wrong, dear? Perhaps a nice cup of hot tea instead of that?”
“Maybe. Yeah, perhaps.” But when their regrouped server returned with the check, she
downed the rest.
“Suit yourself, dear. I think she likes you.”
“Who? That fucking butch dyke waitress?” Cute ass. Yeah, but a little too Goth for me. But that ass is so nice.
“Maybe if she was blonde, dear?”
“I’m not into that.” Liar! Shut up!
“Oh! I didn’t mean to imply anything. Just that— It’s not important, dear.” Miss Christi paid the check in cash, a single new hundred. “Time to catch our train, my dear.”
Fuck! Why didn’t you come? You promised. Fuck. What’s Freckles doing? She’s following you, stupid. Catherine took a tight hold of Miss Christi’s arm as they made their way to the Acela. “Don’t want you to stumble again, Gran.”
All Aboard
The Acela on Track 9, 12:56 local
The conductor shouted, “All aboard.” They found their seats in First. Unknown to Catherine, Miss Christi’s two operatives would also board today’s train, just in case. The Enforcer, Jane Sterling was already seated just behind and to the left in the aisle seat. Her other operative, the redhead code-named Temptress, entered and seated herself forward, near the forward exit.
Catherine found her iPhone and began texting. She tried desperately to get back into the private world she shared with her mysterious sexting partner, BP… The train started moving, leaving the station, the city, and, MK’s life, behind. Her head banged the window. “Why are they doing this to me?”
“My dear, why are you so angry?” inquired Miss Christi sincerely.
She didn’t answer, just stared into her dark display. Because my fucking parents hate me. Sending me away with granny? She shook her head. I wish I were dead. Why hasn’t my BP texted me back? She hooked up her iPod and cranked the volume.
Miss Christi nudged and asked why she didn’t just use the iPhone’s music player. She said it didn’t work.
“Perhaps you should let Miss Wright look at it when we get to New York. She’s quite handy with technology.”
Catherine didn’t respond. She observed Miss Christi reach into her bag, removing her Kindle. She woke it and started reading. The time ticked by. She smiled, laughed, and even cried a tear or two. Catherine figured it was a romance. She kept looking past their reflection in the window, frequently checking her trusty iPhone. She hadn’t received any new texts. After an hour of silence, and just having left Philadelphia, she blew.
