SCARRED

by Price, Faith

  “104.1. Oh man, ok.” Lawson laid her back on the bed and ran to the bathroom. He knew he should force her into a tub of lukewarm or cool water, but which was it? If he took her to the hospital, he would need to go without his mask. He ran cool water over a washcloth and took it back to Serene, laying it gently on her neck. She whimpered in protest, trying to pull it off her skin. Lawson left the room again and called the only person he knew he could.

  “Mike? Yeah, it’s Lawson. I have a problem.”

  * * * *

  Mike Reid was Lawson’s personal attorney. He was a successful criminal attorney, and at forty five years of age, he was so successful that he only had a handful of regular clients. He didn’t need any new ones. He also had a doctor on his payroll for the sticky situations some of his clients found themselves in. Mike stood in a corner of the room that Serene occupied and watched what was happening with one arm around his middle and the other bent at the elbow with his chin in his hand.

  “How long has she been ill?”

  Lawson shrugged and looked at the doctor with sad eyes. “I don’t know. She seemed ok, just a little tired.”

  “Did she complain of body aches or anything out of the ordinary?”

  “No. Small cough, but I didn’t think anything of it.”

  The doctor was short and much older than Lawson had expected. He nodded his head and dug around in his bag. “Why don’t you two wait in the kitchen?”

  Lawson sighed and glanced at Serene’s sleeping form before following Mike out of the room. His friend always walked with a sure swagger with one hand in his pocket. He was doing that now. Lawson had to smirk. Mike was a millionaire and even in the early morning hours, during an emergency, he shows up in an Armani suit smelling like expensive cologne; his broad shoulders held straight. When they entered the kitchen, Lawson pulled two mugs from a cabinet and poured black coffee into one, handing it to Mike. He sipped and made an appreciative face. He leaned against the island and sipped his coffee while he waited for Lawson to fix his. When they were finally facing each other he spoke to Lawson with a fake smile on his face.

  “What are you doing here, Lawson?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

  Mike barked a laugh and set the mug on the island so he could run a hand over his excessively greased head. Lawson knew he used that much grease and gel so he could plaster his thinning black hair over his balding crown. “I’m sure you do!” He eyed him shrewdly and shook his head. “Where did she come from?”

  “She’s in my employment for the next six months.” Lawson sipped his coffee calmly and held his friend’s stare.

  “How long has she been here?”

  “Six months.”

  “Uh-huh. I don’t guess she’s a maid like I told the good doctor in there.”

  “She keeps the house very clean.”

  “Right.” Mike drained the rest of his coffee and took a step towards Lawson. He smacked him on the arm and walked towards the kitchen door. He turned briefly with his hand back in his pocket. “I hope you know what you’re doing. What’s wrong with a good old-fashioned prostitute? You purchase her for an hour or two, and then she’s gone.”

  “I wanted more.”

  “Ha! Don’t we all? I’ll see you, buddy, call me if you need anything else.”

  Lawson watched Mike push through the kitchen door, and soon after heard the front door open and shut.

  Close to twenty minutes later the doctor stuck his head in the kitchen door. He held a brown prescription bottle out with a thin hand that shook slightly and had numerous liver spots. “I already gave her one. It was difficult, but she swallowed it. I am pretty sure it is just a rapid onset of some kind of virus, or it could be the flu. The fever spiking so high and so suddenly is a concern, but if you give her Tylenol every four hours for the next day, you should be able to control it.”

  “What about these?” Lawson asked and shook the brown bottle.

  “It’s just Amoxicillin; twice a day for ten days.”

  Lawson nodded. The doctor looked at him curiously which was soon replaced with a look of sympathy. “How are you, Lawson?”

  Lawson didn’t want to look into the watery blue eyes of the aging physician. He didn’t want to remember. Well practiced, he put on his best smile and squeezed the doctor’s hand.

  “I’m just fine. How much do I owe you?”

  The doctor held up a hand and waved the question away. “Slick Rick, um excuse me, Mike already took care of it. I’m sure you’ll get a bill.”

  Lawson had to chuckle as he followed him to the front door. The doctor turned before he exited, placing a worn fedora firmly on his head. “Clear liquids, chicken noodle soup, and toast are all I want the young lady having for the next twenty four hours. I’ll come back in a day or two to check her lungs.”

  Lawson nodded and shut the door against the cold air of the morning. He glanced up the hallway and tried to decide what to do. He could go and sit with her; wait for her to wake up. Perhaps it would be better if he just went to his room for a couple of hours. He knew she was still very angry. Even in her delirium of a high fever she had told him so. Lawson walked on the balls of his feet just to ensure he was completely quiet, and peeked into her room briefly.

  She was lying on her back with a fresh sheen of sweat on her face, but she did look better. It appeared the doctor had scrubbed her face a bit. Maybe it had helped. Sometimes older doctors had old remedies that were forgotten in our high tech plastic world. It was a pity as far as Lawson was concerned. He felt that the world lived too fast; it was all so shallow without meaning.

  The girl on the bed gave his life meaning. Suddenly bone weary, he turned away and went into his bedroom, softly locking the door behind him.

  * * * *

  It took two full days to get Serene to put more than water and ginger ale in her body. She begrudgingly took the antibiotics every time Lawson brought them to her, but refused to have any kind of real conversation. She would take her pills, give him a curt ‘thank you’, and then turn her head to the window or back to one of her books or crosswords.

  Lawson didn’t push her and kept her stocked up on tissues and books. He even brought a small television in for her with a DVD player. He had gone to a Red Box and rented her several movies. She seemed to soften a bit at that, but simply gave him the same curt and crisp response.

  On the third day, Lawson was placing clean towels in the bathroom, when Serene came and stood in the doorway. She didn’t glare or try to make him leave. Her expression was impassive. Lawson straightened his back slowly and tried to smile at her.

  “You look so much better. Are you hungry?”

  Serene nodded. “Can I take a shower first?”

  “Oh sure!” Lawson said and tried to move past her quickly. To his surprise, Serene grabbed his hand as he slid past her. She pulled tentatively until he stood directly in front of her.

  “Thank you for taking care of me.”

  Lawson touched her cheek with the back of several fingers. “I wish I could always care for you.”

  “Why can’t you?”

  Lawson’s mouth twisted and his head moved slowly back and forth. “It would be so unfair to you.” His voice was pained, and it cut into Serene like a knife.

  “I love you.” She let go of his hand and closed the bathroom door with her eyes on the ground.

  Lawson wanted to cheer; run up and down the hallway shouting for joy, but all he could do was pull in a shuddering breath, while thinking how ironic and unfair the world really is.

  “Don’t do much tomorrow, Serene.”

  “Why not? I feel fine.”

  Lawson gave her a patient look. “The doctor said you need to take it slow.”

  “I like that doctor. What’s his name?”

  “He’s just called ‘the doctor’.”

  Serene’s lips puckered in a frown. “Why?”

  “Most of his clients need to be anonymous, therefore so does he.”


  “Isn’t this kind of lifestyle harder to maintain than a normal one?”

  “Explain normal to me, Serene.”

  She stood from the couch and straightened some magazines she had left on the coffee table. “Oh I don’t know, one that doesn’t require anonymity.”

  Lawson chose to not acknowledge the comment. What could he say?

  “Look, I have some extra things to take care of for a few days. I may not be back until Saturday.”

  Serene wasn’t going to grace him with a response. She simply nodded and picked up the book she had been reading. Lawson watched her and, at the same time, watched the gulf continue to grow between them.

  * * * *

  The week seemed to drag for Serene, but for Lawson it was moving entirely too fast. He had a plan that would be executed over the weekend, and he was in no hurry for it to get here.

  Mike looked at him for a long time. He remained leaned back in his expensive leather chair with a forefinger draped over his thin black mustache, and a thumb supporting his chin. His eyes bored into Lawson but he knew there would be no dissuading him. Mike finally lifted his eyebrows and straightened in his chair.

  “I just don’t understand.”

  “You don’t understand which part, Mike?”

  “Honestly, all of it.” He spread his hands out on the desk and shook his head. “Look, buddy, you’re an incredibly wealthy man, and you don’t live like one. Do you know what that means?”

  “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” Lawson lit a cigarette and exhaled the blue gray smoke slowly.

  “It means you’re under the radar; virtually undetectable by the authorities. You don’t live extravagantly, you pay your taxes, and you’re hardly ever seen anywhere.”

  Lawson smiled and took another drag from his cigarette. “So, I’m a money hoarder.”

  Mike shook his head, clearly irritated. “No, it means no one would give you a cursory glance. You aren’t considered a big dog, when in reality you are. It reminds me of what Frank Lucas did when he first started his trade.”

  Lawson rolled his eyes and crushed the cigarette butt out in Mike’s expensive cut glass ashtray. “I’m no Frank Lucas. I’m a small time dealer. You know this. Small time dealers have their trade absorbed easily. I bet you have someone in mind already.”

  Mike leaned forward in his chair slapping his hands on the desk. “You cannot liquidate this much stuff so quickly! There will be questions!”

  “Which you will have answers for.” Lawson stood and smiled at his friend. “Goodnight, Mike. You’re a literal genius; I know you’ll handle it.”

  Mike leaned back in his chair again and harrumphed, but Lawson knew his head grew an extra inch from the compliment. Mike liked to be stroked. As if to remind him of that fact, a busty red head with a painted on dress strolled off the elevator. Lawson ignored her quick glance and the frown forming on her heavily painted mouth.

  After she passed him, he glanced over his shoulder and watched her hips wiggle into Mike’s closed office. Lawson pressed the first floor button and grinned. He wondered what Mike’s ex-wives and current mistress would think about his call girl. Lawson couldn’t help but let the laughter loose that bubbled up his throat as the shiny doors slid shut.

  * * * *

  Serene strolled up and down the aisles carefully picking out items for that night’s dinner. She wanted it to be extra special. Lawson had been gone all week. She wanted to prove to him that she did in fact love him, and could be a useful asset to him. Asset seemed too sterile a word, but the situation was precarious and she wasn’t sure what to call it.

  Serene Mitchell would be unrecognizable to her former acquaintances if they could see her now. She even surprised herself sometimes when she looked in the mirror. Her skin was still fair, but it wasn’t sickly pale. She no longer had bags under her eyes and her hair was always done and healthy. She had also shed her scrawny figure. With the magic of regular meals, daily walking, and some light weight training; she was toned and curvy.

  When she did go out it earned her a second glance from many men. She just didn’t care. Everything she did was for Lawson. It was always Lawson. If she put curlers in her hair, painted her nails, shaved her legs, whatever; it was done for Lawson.

  He had picked her up one evening right before she had gotten sick and driven her to a car dealership. He told her to ask for a man named Randall and that he would give her keys to a car. Serene had felt a moment of irritation, thinking to herself why couldn’t she pick out her own car? That thought evaporated the moment she saw the car. It was a beautiful black Mercedes.

  The man named Randall was spewing out the details like a pro. It was in the something C class. It was a real power house. She was going to love it. Don’t worry about it being used, because it only had 40,000 miles on it. He droned on and on, and all Serene wanted to do was get in a drive. When she finally was in the car, she ran her hand over the smooth leather and couldn’t believe she was going to drive a car that impressive. 40,000 miles or not, it still smelled and looked brand new.

  Serene looked at a box of chocolate pastries on display by the bakery. She remembered the morning she had unknowingly seduced Lawson at breakfast with a cream cheese one.

  Couldn’t hurt. She thought, placing the box in the basket.

  Serene drove home with her mind in a tangle of thoughts. Things were strained between her and Lawson. She wanted to make it right. She didn’t care anymore that he was a criminal like everyone else she had ever known. She didn’t care about his mask, either. He had been good to her, what did it matter?

  Serene pulled into the driveway and slammed on the brakes halfway up the drive. The front door was sitting wide open.

  * * * *

  “Have you called the police?”

  “No, I haven’t. With your type of work, I was sure you wouldn’t want them around.” Serene kept her voice steady. Irritating Lawson was not going to help what she was trying to accomplish. She heard him sigh on the other end. “I’m not taking a free dig at you. It’s just a fact.”

  “You’re right. Listen, I’ll be there in about twenty minutes. Don’t go in until I get there.”

  “Lawson, I have food in the car.”

  He was glad Serene couldn’t see him roll his eyes. “In the trunk?”

  “Yes.”

  “Serene, it’s thirty-four degrees outside.”

  “Ok. I’ll just back out and park on the side of the road.

  “Good girl.”

  Night was falling fast and Serene was relieved to see Lawson’s truck in the rear view mirror. She watched the turn signal come on, and started her car. She knew the house would be chilly since the front door had been sitting open, but at least she didn’t have to go in alone. She parked behind Lawson and saw him exit the truck with a gun in his hand. His expression was given away by the firm set of his jaw and the hard line of his mouth. He would kill anyone he found in there; Serene was sure of this.

  He motioned for her to stay back and mounted the stairs quietly with sideways steps. The way he held the gun with both hands pointed down to the ground and leaned against the house to peek in with as much cover as possible, reminded her of the way policemen moved when they were entering a home. She wondered how he knew what to do. He moved quickly to the other side of the door so he could look in from the opposite direction. Serene sucked in her breath when he entered the house. She closed her eyes and waited for the gunshot, but after several minutes there wasn’t one.

  Lawson came to the doorway and motioned for her to come in. He still had the gun in his hand. She didn’t like the scowl that was on his face. It took her a moment to recognize the odor, and once she did, she dropped her bags and covered her nose and mouth. Someone had smeared human feces all over the living room walls and furniture. She looked at Lawson with wide frantic eyes.

  “Who….” She began, but was silenced by Lawson holding up a finger. He had his cell phone to his ear with the other hand.


  “Luis? Hey, it’s Lawson. Can you get your crew to my suburb house?” There was a pause as he listened. “No, no nothing like that. All right, I’ll see you in a couple of hours. Bring hazmat suits.”

  Lawson looked at Serene with hard eyes. “Very few people know I own this house.”

  “Then why is there shit strewn across your walls?” Serene ran to her room and looked inside. Miraculously there was nothing amiss. Her camera was right where she left it, sitting on top of her closed laptop. She came back up the hall and saw that Lawson was back on the phone.

  “I think three nights will be sufficient.”

  Serene listened as he finished making the hotel reservation. When he finished, she retrieved the grocery bags from the floor and took them into the kitchen. She didn’t hear Lawson walk silently behind her, and screamed when he took one of the bags from her arms.

  Lawson started putting things in the refrigerator and hesitated when he saw the box of Danishes. A small smile wafted across his lips. He glanced at Serene and decided the Danishes should come to the hotel, too. The gesture didn’t escape her as he slid the pastries across the counter.

  Lawson being Lawson of course, picked a four-star hotel in the city. Serene didn’t care, she was going to enjoy every minute of it. It was more than a hotel room; it basically was a whole apartment. Located on the tenth floor, the balcony offered a stunning view of the city. Serene saw a boutique on their way in and was looking forward to shopping there the next day. This was the high end part of the city. To some it was called the East End. People like Ted and his miserable friends never make it out of South End.

  Serene wandered the suite admiring the décor of blue and cream. The living room had a kitchenette and there were two separate bedrooms that shared a bathroom. She wasn’t sure why they needed two bedrooms, unless Lawson was planning on staying there with her. He never slept in the same room with her.