A Gift of Time

by Beth Flynn

  Carter had looked at him wide-eyed and tried to put on a brave front, but Grizz could tell she was nervous. A dank and mildew-laced room in the county jail with an alleged murderer was obviously outside of her comfort zone. He tried to put her mind at ease.

  “First, thank you for staying with her. I know she won’t let Grunt live there, and it’s not good for her to be alone. Especially with a baby on the way.”

  She visibly relaxed and gave him a smile. She tucked some of her chin-length brown hair behind an ear and told him, “You’re welcome, and it’s easy being there. I love Kit more than I could love a sister, and it’s working out for me, too. I’ve been taking home some of the animals from the shelter and, well—”

  She caught herself. She had no way of knowing if he approved of her using their land to foster abandoned pets.

  “I know what you’ve been doing with the animals, and it’s okay,” he quietly told her. “As a matter of fact, that’s what I want to talk to you about today. If anybody asks, though, we’re talking about Kit and how you’re there to make her life easier. Got it?”

  Carter nodded her understanding. They continued their discussion in hushed tones. He’d just finished telling her what he wanted her to do when there was a quick knock on the door, and the guard came in.

  “Five minutes, Talbot.” He shut the door without waiting for Grizz’s reply.

  It was then that Grizz asked Carter for another favor.

  “I need to tell you about the blue bandana hanging on my bike in the garage.”

  Carter listened to what he told her, nodding before the guard returned to escort Grizz back to his cell.

  Now, Grizz sighed as he continued to stare at his ceiling. He was relieved Kit hadn’t worn the blue bandana. He was also disappointed. She didn’t need him. It was to be expected, and it wasn’t like he could’ve personally come to her rescue. He could’ve arranged it, but he couldn’t be the one to physically execute it.

  Execute. What an appropriate word.

  Lying on his bed now, he crossed his legs and thought about how flawlessly the dog ministry was working. It wasn’t his only means of communicating with the outside world, but it was a major one. He knew the warden and guards looked the other way as the inmates took on the responsibility of cleaning up after the dogs. Grizz made sure they put on a show of whisking the dog’s shit to a private place to bag it up for the incinerator. Everyone looked the other way as they surmised the inmates sorted through the fecal matter for tiny rubber balloons filled with contraband.

  Grizz chuckled to himself. There were no rubber balloons. Yes, Grizz had drugs brought into the prison, but not through the dogs like the prison brass thought. It was a decoy for what he was really doing. Sending coded messages through tiny compartments sewn into the dog’s collars.

  Each dog had a collar that represented their stage of training. A blue collar represented a brand new dog that had been brought to the prison and sometimes carried a message from Carter. Yellow meant they were halfway through their training. Red meant they were close to graduating from the program, and black meant they were ready to leave the prison and be placed with someone that had special needs.

  It was arranged so every dog with a black collar had to go back to Carter’s organization in Fort Lauderdale. The black collars were removed, and they were given new ones. The collars were then sent to Carter for recycling.

  Carter checked the collars for any messages and discreetly and anonymously had the cryptic notes sent to the intended recipients. Sometimes the recipients were inmates in different facilities throughout the State of Florida. He didn’t use the system very often, but it was in place for some of Grizz’s more important business. If anyone suspected Kit’s friend was helping him move drugs or communicate through the various prison systems, they looked the other way or just didn’t care.

  Some dogs would be graduating soon, Grizz thought, and he needed Carter to get a message to Bill to make sure the guard who gave him access to Ringer’s cell was compensated. Bill would handle it electronically. Grizz smiled as he thought how that would be one message that wouldn’t need to be delivered anonymously. He had no way of knowing his casual suggestion to Bill—William Petty—to seek out Carter for a job would turn into love. Just like Bill had told him back in 1988, he’d managed to get released early.

  Grizz had known Bill had a soft spot for animals, and he’d suggested maybe he could work with Carter on the very real and legitimate side of her rescue organizations. Apparently, their mutual love for animals turned into a real romance. They’d quickly married and were now living in Grizz’s house at Shady Ranches.

  He did have one request, though. He didn’t want Kit to have any knowledge Bill had known Grizz from prison. That seemed like one part of Bill’s past he was only too willing not to share, and the three agreed to keep it to themselves.

  As Bill and Carter’s marriage flourished, Bill continued to stay somewhat involved with her animal charities, but Grizz knew he’d found legitimate employment within his field of expertise—computers. Not the programming or software side of computers. He’d continued to keep his hacking skills to himself. No, Bill thrived in computer hardware sales. Apparently, he could sell garlic to a vampire, and his sales commissions were impressive. Nobody ever suspected he was a freaking genius when it came to infiltrating computer systems.

  Thinking about Bill and Carter and the home he’d shared with Kit caused his mind to drift even more. He thought about happier times. He thought about that house. How it was not just a house, but a home. The only real home he’d ever known. Of course, anywhere with Kit would be a real home. He remembered how he’d made good on his declaration to her when it was being built that he would make love to her in every room of that house.

  The memory was so real he could smell her hair and feel her warm, sweet breath on his neck. He let the memory swallow him whole as his hand reached inside his pants and roughly pulled out his cock.

  He let his mind drift to a time when they’d just finished making love and were lying side by side, Kit nestled in his arms. They were talking about whether or not they’d just made a baby.

  “I feel like I’m pregnant,” she’d said, and the expectation in her voice was heartwarming.

  He’d chuckled and pulled her closer to kiss the top of her head.

  “Kitten, I barely just pulled my dick out of you. How could you feel like you’re knocked up?”

  She leaned up on her elbow to look at him. “Why does every sentence in your vocabulary have to be so crude?”

  He raised an eyebrow and gave her a serious look.

  “You’re right, sweetheart. You’ve asked me to watch my mouth before. How about this? Kitten, I barely just withdrew my penis from inside of you. How could you feel like I’ve impregnated you so soon?” Before she could comment, he added, “Or would you prefer ‘throbbing member’ or maybe ‘rod of love’ instead of penis?”

  She’d started laughing then. “I get it. For some reason, crude does sound more natural coming from you.”

  “And just to show you I don’t mean to be crude when our first son is born, we’ll name him Richard and call him Dick. That way you’ll never associate that word with my throbbing member.”

  “You are such a butthead, Grizz. I’m not calling our first son, Dick, especially when your intention is the opposite. I’ll never call our son that name without thinking of your penis.” She looked heavenward. “Which was probably your intention all along, right? For me to always be thinking about your rod of love?”

  He remembered thinking how much he loved her innocence. How she responded in his arms with the passion of a woman that rivaled his own desires, but her teasing and use of names like butthead endeared her to him even more. He’d only ever known hard women before falling in love with Kit. Women who’d liked trying to shock him with their filthy language and boldness in the bedroom. Their willingness to do anything. He’d thought he liked it, too. He’d been wrong.

&nbs
p; She reached for a pillow that had been tossed aside and swung it at his head, but he blocked it and grabbed her wrist, pulling her up on top of him. He gently grabbed the back of her head with his free hand and pulled her face down to his.

  The kiss started slow and became more heated as she felt his hardness beneath her. She pulled away and looked down at him.

  “Again? Already?”

  “Yes, again, Kit. You want to make that baby don’t you?” he teased.

  He took the break in their kiss as an opportunity to sit up straight pulling her with him. With his back against the headboard, he tenderly lowered her onto his hardness.

  Now, on his prison cot, he closed his eyes, letting the memory of her tight warmness envelop him. He remembered breathing deeply to catch the scent of her that floated up between them. The heady mixture that was uniquely Kit’s always caused him to get hard. Then, when he’d actually experienced it, and now, just remembering it.

  She’d started to slowly glide up and down on him. Her pace was quickening, and he moved his hand to where he could gently massage her with his thumb, knowing the exact rhythm that would bring her to orgasm. He realized he was going to come quickly, too, but he didn’t want to. Not yet. He wanted to savor her just a bit longer.

  “Stop, Kit. Slow down, baby.”

  She stopped and looked at him.

  Taking her face in his hands, he brought his mouth down to hers. “I want to kiss on you for a few minutes. I can’t do that if you’re bouncing up and down.”

  He remembered kissing her then, slowly making his way down her neck, stopping to ask her to kneel up so he could take one of her full, beautiful breasts into his mouth. He mourned the loss of her warm tightness as she raised herself off of him, but quickly reveled in the taste and feel of her nipple as it hardened beneath his tongue. He remembered.

  A loud knock on his cell door jolted him from the memory. He barely had time to shove his dick back into his pants when the door swung open.

  The guard stood there with a shit-eating grin on his face. He’d obviously peeked through the slot and knew what he’d interrupted. The murderous look Grizz gave him caused his smile to fade, and his discomfort became obvious.

  “Errr ... someone here to see you. Maybe she can help you finish what you started?” He gulped and tugged at his collar. It suddenly felt tight around his neck.

  The guard stepped aside, and a woman that Grizz didn’t know breezed inside the cell like she owned the place.

  “Lighten up, Grizz. I told him to make sure we weren’t interrupting anything.”

  She glanced at the tented area of Grizz’s pants and raised an eyebrow. Cocking her hip to one side and hooking her well-manicured fingers through the loop in her jeans, she said in a voice that Grizz recognized immediately.

  “Looks like I got here just in time, honey.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mimi

  2000, Fort Lauderdale (Two Days After the Execution)

  Mimi clung tightly to Elliott’s back as they sped through the streets of South Florida.

  The motorcycle vibrated between her thighs as she rested her chin on his shoulder. The wind so strong against her face, blocking out the scent she’d come to associate with him. She loved how Elliott smelled, and her emotions were so conflicted at what had happened two days ago that she wanted more than her chin resting on his shoulder. She wanted to feel his arms around her. To bury her face in his chest. She wanted to feel safe. She wanted to feel loved.

  She wanted to feel special.

  “I promised Edith we’d have a late breakfast with her. Hope that’s okay with you,” he said loudly as they idled at a red light.

  Mimi gave him a thumbs-up, and twenty minutes later they were sitting across from Elliott’s grandmother at the tiny table in her cozy kitchen. Elliott had introduced Mimi to his grandmother not long after their first date at Marcella’s earlier that year. She’d yet to introduce Elliott to her parents. She still wasn’t ready.

  “My friends are picking me up soon,” his grandmother told them. “We’re going to see “Death of a Salesman” at the community theater. I’m sure there are plenty of tickets left. Would you two like to come?”

  Elliott smiled at his grandmother. “I know you’re worried about leaving us alone in the house—”

  “Young unmarried couples were never left unchaperoned in my day,” she told him in her gravelly voice. Elliott had told Mimi his grandmother had been a smoker up until she’d had a lung removed five years ago. Her voice always sounded like she needed to clear her throat.

  “We won’t be here long after you leave. We’ll clean up the kitchen as a thank you for making this great breakfast.” Elliott looked at Mimi, who gave a quick nod. “Then I’m just going to take Mimi for a nice long motorcycle ride. Maybe up by the beach.”

  Edith looked at her grandson with an expression Mimi couldn’t read. She patted his cheek a little too roughly as she stood to excuse herself. She would need to brush her teeth and freshen her lipstick before her friends arrived.

  “Just don’t do anything that would make me ashamed of you, Elliott.”

  Her voice almost had a pleading sound, and Mimi could see the worry on her lined face.

  Elliott stood then and gently took her by the elbow. “Those days are gone, Grandma. I’ve straightened up my life, and you know that. I’ve proven it to you.”

  “I guess you’re right. I thank the good Lord every day that you stopped your shenanigans before you got into any trouble with the law. You’re blessed, boy. I hope you know that. You don’t have any record, and the Lord’s seen fit to give you a new start. Use it wisely.”

  “I am, Grandma. I’m trying to prove to you and God and my new girlfriend,” he paused and winked at Mimi, “that I can do something with my life.”

  He gently guided her out of the kitchen. Mimi could hear him continuing to give his grandmother gentle reassurances that he wouldn’t be going back to his old habits.

  Mimi smiled to herself and started to clear the breakfast dishes. She remembered her first date with Elliott and how he had shown her the beautiful cross tattoo on the underside of his forearm. She remembered how she took his arm in both of her hands that day and slowly turned it over, noticing some of the tattoos on the other side. She’d stiffened when she saw a heart with the name Edith in the center of it. She shook her head now as she loaded the dishwasher. She’d had an instant jolt of jealousy after seeing that name and knew she blushed when Elliott had quickly explained, “Edith is my grandmother.” She thought she remembered him blushing, too.

  She had just closed the dishwasher when she felt arms surround her from behind and a soft kiss on the side of her neck.

  “You should’ve waited for me to help,” he whispered in her ear.

  She turned her face sideways so his mouth was now against her cheek.

  “You can wipe the table,” she answered, her voice coming out like a squeak.

  They pulled apart when they heard a horn honk, and Elliott went to find his grandmother. After a quick hug goodbye and an insistence that Mimi come back to see her, Edith let her grandson escort her to the waiting car of her elderly friends.

  Back inside the house, Elliott took Mimi by the hand and led her to the sofa. He sat down and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked gently.

  She chanced a look at his face, and her eyes filled up with tears.

  “It’s done. It’s over with. I only saw my dad for a few minutes before you picked me up. I haven’t seen my mom yet, so I don’t know how she’s going to act.”

  “How did your dad act?”

  “When I got home this morning I found him in the den by himself. Just staring at the wall. When I tried to get his attention he barely heard me.” She got quiet then and looked at Elliott’s chin. “I lied again. Told him Lindsay and I were invited to spend the day at Courtney’s. I have until late tonight, so we can do anything you wanna do.”

/>   She swallowed hard and chanced a glance into his eyes. What she saw scared and excited her.

  Elliott stared for a second without answering.

  “I know what I want to do, Mimi,” he said without breaking away from her glance. “For God’s sake, I’m a guy. Do I need to spell out what I want to do? What I’ve always wanted to do? But I’m not going to. I’m not going there with you. Not yet anyway.”

  “But, I—”

  “No. You heard Edith. You heard her talk about making the right choices. She’s right, you know. It’s a miracle I didn’t get arrested for all the shit I’ve pulled. I’m lucky my friends got caught, but I didn’t. Lucky they didn’t point the finger at me. I know it’s a shitty way to think, but it’s true. They have records now, not me. I can’t blow this.”

  “How is being with me going to blow it?” But she was secretly relieved. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the physical awakening her body had been experiencing. She was raised in the church and knew premarital sex was wrong.

  “You know how. Our ages. When I turned eighteen, you became officially off limits to me.” He sighed and in one quick motion hefted her off his lap and placed her next to him on the couch. He adjusted his pants. “I shouldn’t have pulled you down on my lap like that.”

  “What are you waiting for? My parents’ blessing? Because there is a pretty good chance that won’t happen.”

  “And it will definitely never happen if I don’t meet them.” His voice turned hard. “How can I ask for their blessing if they don’t even know about me?”

  She started to say something, but he put up his hand to stop her.

  “You told me you were going through some heavy shit, and you needed time, and I understand that. Man, all that crap you told me about your real father and the reporter approaching you and all that. Yeah, I get it, Mimi. I really do. I even understand why you’ve had a serious hard-on for your parents all these years. They should’ve told you.” He saw her chin start to quiver and reached out to steady it with his hand.

  Tilting her face up to his he continued, “I’m sorry, Mimi. Maybe this isn’t the right time to bring up meeting your parents. I just really care about you. I want to be able to meet your dad for the first time, shake his hand, and look him in the eye knowing I didn’t do anything to disrespect him. I feel bad enough sneaking around behind their backs, and I’m even lying to Edith. She’s asked me more than once if your parents approve of me.” He looked away, shaking his head. Then something occurred to him. “Are you crying because he’s dead? You got tears in your eyes when you told me he was dead.”