by Mike Dagons
Gloria slowly walked down the aisle in coach until she saw Kenyah. She stopped and kneeled down in the aisle next to her seat. “What kind of no class bitch fucks another woman’s man in the airplane bathroom?” she spoke to her in a hushed angry tone.
Chanay heard her, and she nudged Sam awake, and then sat up straighter so she could hear what was being said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kenyah glared right back.
“Bitch please, you fucking Desmond. What went down between y’all is the talk of the company, and everybody knows you think all men want you. Well, I’m here to tell you that I ain’t Vectra. You ain’t going to be disrespecting me.”
“Disrespecting you how? By being on the same flight?” she raised her voice.
“Desmond is on this plane with me, and if you don’t stay away from him. I will kick your fucking ass!” She stood up, and then strutted back up the aisle to first class.
Kenyah closed her eyes and tried not to imagine everyone was watching her.
Gloria tried to look natural, but that bitch had made her get loud. Knowing every wake eye was on her made the walk back to her seat feel embarrassingly long.
Desmond stood up so she could get by him to the window seat when she tapped him on his arm. “Where you been?” he asked.
“I took a walk. I wasn’t expecting you to still be sitting here. What happened, the white girl wouldn’t change seats with you?”
“What the fuck you talking about?” he snarled.
“Your behavior, Desmond, I’m talking about your behavior on this plane.”
“Am I supposed to know what that means, Gloria?”
“It means, you asked me to come on this trip with you. At least you could show me a little respect, and not go sniffing up behind that bitch, Kenyah Real.”
“I thought you didn’t know who she was?” he smirked.
“Everybody at M-Style knows you fucked that hoe, and got into a fight with her husband about it. You’re here with me, Desmond. You’re going to Paris with me, not her, and I don’t want you to share any of our time together with her. Keep her out of our business and our room when we get there.”
Desmond reached over and took her hand in his. “So you’re going to make me rent another room to fuck her? Damn, I can’t just use ours?” He joked.
“Desmond, that’s not funny,” she pouted playfully.
“I’m sorry, baby, but it is,” he laughed. “Seriously, I promised you two romantic days alone with me, and that’s what we’ll have, okay?”
She simply nodded, yes, and then relaxed and closed her eyes. Desmond sat back in his seat and did the same. The sex with Kenyah had exhausted him, and he drifted to sleep easily.
In a half awakened state, he heard himself moan in pleasure from the tender caresses that had him rock hard. The tongue probing his mouth was urgent, and he took hold of her face, and greedily returned her passion.
When she pulled away, he opened his eyes and glared at Gloria in shock when he discovered she’d been the one kissing him, and not Kenyah. “What the fuck is the matter with you?” he shouted in a whisper.
“Nothing,” she smiled at him naughtily, and then rubbed her hand over his dick.
Desmond grabbed her wrist and squeezed it painfully, before he pushed her hand away. He automatically glanced at the seats across the aisle to see if anybody was watching, and then he relaxed some when he saw they were both sleeping.
Gloria was wounded by his annoyed response. “Why are you upset?” She looked confused.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Wasn’t it obvious?” she asked.
“We’re on a muthafuckin’ plane, Gloria,” he frowned.
“That didn’t matter when you were fucking Kenyah in the bathroom. Y’all were both out of your seats, and the occupied sign was on in the bathroom. The girl sitting next to her was waiting for y’all to finish just like I was, so don’t lie. I didn’t want to believe the rumors about y’all, but I see now that it was all true,” she huffed.
“Make your point,” he glanced around to make sure they still didn’t have an audience.
“My point is—I thought what happened between us was exclusively between us. You led me to believe I was special to you, and now I find out you’re dealing with her, too,” she hitched a thumb in Kenyah’s direction in coach.
“I told you that I wasn’t interested in a serious relationship with anyone. What the fuck did you think that meant?”
“You also told me that you could see a future with us together. What the fuck did you think that meant?”
“It didn’t mean I was going to ask your permission to talk to my friends.”
“So, now that she’s here. I’m supposed to fade to black and wait until you feel like turning me back on? Is that what I’m hearing, Mr. Fox?”
“No, but I am going to keep it real. I asked you not to read anything into us taking this trip together. I didn’t promise you a commitment, and I do plan to try to persuade Kenyah to spend some time with me while we’re in Paris. If you can’t accept that, then you do what you have to do.”
His little speech made her feel cheep, and needy. “I can’t believe you’re playing me like this,” she glared at him angrily.
“Is there something else you want to talk about? Because if not, I’d like to get some sleep if you don’t mind.”
“This is so fucked up!” she stood and walked away. All she wanted to do was get away from him, and forget she’d made such a fool of herself.
While Desmond was watching her leave, he was surprised to see Kenyah coming through the doorway from coach. In passing, Gloria shoulder checked her hard enough to knock her off balance, forcing her to grab hold of another passenger’s headrest to keep from falling over into his lap.
Desmond shook his head in frustration, but Gloria didn’t slow down or look back. Kenyah hurried on up the aisle. She didn’t wait for him to stand. She stepped across his legs and sat down in Gloria’s seat next to him.
“Hi beautiful,” he smiled invitingly.
“I’m not the only woman you’re sleeping with, am I?” she accused.
Desmond gave her an amused look. “Yes you are, and you will be the only woman I’m sleeping with for as long as you want to be,” he promised the lie.
“What about the woman you were just talking to? The one this seat belongs to.”
“What about her? She works at M-Style in accounting.”
She fixed him in a scrutinizing gaze. “I’m married, so I’m not looking for a serious relationship with you. It means you don’t have to lie to me.”
“Hey, look at me,” he said and waited for her to turn her face to his. “I’m not involved with Gloria Collins. I’m not saying that she doesn’t want to be, but we just happened to be on the same flight together. We decided to sit together to keep each other company. It’s just like you and me. We didn’t plan to be on this flight together. And just like our meeting was purely coincidental, so was me and Gloria’s. Kenyah, you know I want to be in a serious relationship with you. I want you to leave your husband for me. You only have to say the word, and I’m there,” he pulled her face to his, and kissed her lightly on her lips.
Kenyah felt bewildered. She wasn’t going to leave Trent. She loved her husband, so she had no right to demand anything from Desmond. Drilling him about his love life, like she was doing, was as ridiculous as it was pointless. “I’ll see you later.” She stood up, and then he got up and stepped back into the aisle so she could get by him.
Desmond reached out and took hold of her wrist when she passed in front of him. “Promise to call me when we get to Paris.”
“I can’t promise you that. I am here with Severe, and she’s like a Pit Bull.”
He laughed. “Either you find a way to come to me, or I’ll come to you,” he kissed her hand, and then he released it, and watched her walked away.
Desmond wasn’t lying about wanting to start somet
hing exclusive between them. He had never had a woman to arouse him the way she did. Whenever she touched him nothing else mattered. He forgot about his marriage, who he was with, and where he was at. Making love to her was all he wanted to do.
If she wasn’t willing to leave her husband, he would be content with sharing her because he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. And he was determined to have her, no matter what.
Chapter 10
Cynthia had been sitting in the cafeteria for a little over an hour nursing a large fountain drink when a white man dressed in khaki pants and a navy pocket tee approached her table. “Hi, Cynthia, I believe you’re waiting for me,” he smiled warmly.
“Am I?” she eyed him suspiciously. She didn’t know who Melvin was sending to get her, but she did know he wouldn’t be stupid enough to use her real name so freely.
“Melvin Ryan sent me,” he answered, and then sat down at the table across from her. “My name is Valow.” He offered her a friendly smile.
She had never met Valow, but she had heard some things about him from her sister, and the man before her, although blonde, looked nothing like she imagined the man Sam called the phantom killer would look.
“Can I finish my drink, Valow?” she smiled back nervously.
“I don’t want to frighten you, but we need to leave now,” he clamped a hand on her wrist in a way that was anything but friendly.
Out of nowhere, he suddenly appeared at the man’s back. He slapped a big hand down on his shoulder while he stealthily jammed the pick he was holding in his other hand into the imposter’s ear canal. His body stiffened, and his eyes popped open wide in a shocked blank stare.
“Hi Sis, it’s raining fire. I’m here to take you somewhere safe,” he said in a low raspy voice, while he quickly folded the dead man’s arms on the table, and then rested his head on them.
There was no blood. Only a small piece of cotton, he had discretely used to plug the opening to the ear canal. Cynthia was sitting across from the man, and it took her a minute to realize he’d been killed, so she was certain no one else in the nearly empty cafeteria noticed.
She stared up at his killer in awe. He had pale white skin, blonde hair, and sharp blue eyes that made him look ghostly. The man emitted the kind of danger vibe that gave small children nightmares.
“I’m Valow.” He held his hand out to her, and smiled, and it made him look scarier.
He was what she expected a phantom killer to look like, and he’d used her nickname and the danger code, so she took his hand and got up out her seat.
They left the dead body at the table and walked hand in hand to the bank of elevators. “They know that we’re here, so they’ll be waiting for us. Stay close and do exactly what I say,” he whispered in that raspy voice. And she couldn’t help thinking even his voice sounded dangerous.
“I was careful not to be followed,” she whispered back.
“Bender’s computer was hacked, so all communications were compromised. My text from Ryan was intercepted, so they knew I was coming here to get you.”
He couldn’t contact me because I didn’t bring my phone, she thought. When the elevator doors opened, he pulled her inside, and moved to the back of the car. He stood with his back to the wall, and pulled her back against him and hugged her close like they were lovers. He was tall, and she was wearing running shoes, so he was able to see over her head easily.
Several people crowded into the elevator with them when it stopped on ten, and he studied the faces of every single one. The car didn’t stop again until it reached two, and Valow held her back until everyone else had exited, and then he took her hand again and pulled her out.
He spotted a man he’d seen on the elevator with them sitting in a lounging chair near the information desk. Valow noticed that he was being careful not to look directly at them.
There was a security guard sitting at a podium where the hallways intersect. He had been sitting there when she came in, and he’d spoken to her then. He looked at her now with a frown of suspicion. “Good evening,” he said, and his eyes darted to Valow.
“Good evening,” she answered cheerfully. “I’m making my boyfriend take me out for an early dinner,” she said, because he was looking at them like he was about to shout, stranger danger!
“Enjoy,” he forced a smile.
Valow didn’t afford him a second glance. People always looked at him like he was wearing a sign that said, RUN, I’M A MURDERER.
He fast walked with her through the overpass leading to the parking garage. “When we get into the garage, run down the ramp, and don’t stop and don’t look back. If I’m not behind you when you get to the bottom, it means I’m dead, so you keep running,” he gave her a sideways glance, and she nodded.
When the automatic doors leading to the garage opened, he released her hand, and pulled his guns from the holsters at his sides.
Cynthia took off running down the ramp like she’d been told, and Valow whirled around and started shooting without breaking his stride. His split second aim was precise, and he missed the nurse walking beside the man from the elevator, and hit him with a head shot.
The woman started screaming bloody murder, but she didn’t run for cover like everybody else in the garage. She just stood there bouncing on her toes and fanning her hands like she was swatting bees.
When the man’s accomplice came through the doors behind her, she stumbled back into him. He would have grabbed her and used her as a shield, but Valow had already sent him a bullet with his name on it. The dead man dropped at her feet, and she started spinning and fanning.
“LADY, GET DOWN!” Valow shouted when two more men appeared in the doorway behind her with their guns already blazing.
She froze and stared like people who are scared to death often do, and it put her directly in his line of fire. Valow shot her in her leg, and she dropped to the ground and out of his way. The leg shot would put her in the hospital, but at least she’d be alive. She wouldn’t be if she’d kept standing there.
Valow shooting her like that shocked the man who had started to reach for her, as much as it had shocked her, and the second it took him to redirect his focus cost him his life. The bullet tore through his throat, and his partner leaped for cover right into the path of another bullet.
Valow was already on the move when bullets started raining down from the ramp overhead. He vaulted over the hood of one car, and slid under another. Hot metal danced all around him, punching holes in vehicles, and chipping away concrete. There was a brief pause in the gunfire, and he heard the screech of tires coming down the upper level ramp, and the roar of a motorcycle engine coming up from below at the same time.
They were downtown in the parking garage of a children’s hospital. The gun battle was on the rise, and he was feeling the pressure to hurry up and get the hell outtá there. He absolutely could not allow them to box him in, or he might have to light up the CPD to get out because they’d be there soon.
The cycle reached him first, and he rolled from under the car ready to shoot the cyclist, and was surprised to see it was Cynthia riding his bike.
Damn, she looks fierce, he thought when she dropped a foot on the pavement, and spun the back wheel out to turn the bike around and change her direction. She stopped in front of him, and shouted, “GET ON!”
He didn’t hesitate, he hopped on behind her and she took off back down the ramp. They heard the car behind them, and Cynthia leaned forward and hugged the sleek bike and amped up the speed. Valow turned in the seat, and sprayed the windshield of the Mustang chasing them with bullets sending it careening into a parked car.
The driver regained control and continued the chase. “Hold on!” she shouted, and Valow gripped the seat with his thighs and hugged her waist tight.
Cynthia pulled up on the handle bars and popped a wheelie. The front tire hit the down security gate arm, and they crashed through it and skidded out the garage past a slow moving car. The driver shouted
obscenities at them, and Valow looked back and saw that the Mustang that was chasing them was trapped behind it.
Cynthia weaved the bike in and out of traffic and lost them. “You want to drive?” she shouted over the roar of the engine.
“No, we need to get off the bike. Find a car dealer,” he shouted back.
She drove west out of the downtown area, and then took the Dan Ryan e-way south until she was out of the city. When she saw a used car dealership, she got off the expressway, and rode into the lot. Because they were trying to maintain a low profile, and he was not a man who was easily forgotten, she stopped and let Valow off the bike before she pulled up to the office building.
Cynthia parked the bike, and then got off and started looking at cars.
“What kind of car you looking for, baby?” the salesman walked over to where she was standing peering in the window of a late model Jeep Grand Cherokee.
She turned to face him, and saw he was looking at her in a way that made her skin crawl. She turned away from him and briefly scanned the lot. She didn’t see Valow, but she wasn’t surprised. There was a reason they called him the phantom. He had disappeared, and she was absolutely amazed that a man whose presence was so imposing could blend into the background so easily when he wanted.
“I need a reliable used truck or van,” she stated flatly.
“I’m sure we can find you something that’ll suit you. If you’re trading that bike, you’ll probably only have to come out your pocket with a few thousand dollars.”
Cynthia snorted derisively. She was driving a Lauge Jensen custom bike that had to cost upward of a hundred thousand dollars. “I know I probably look like an easy mark to you, but you can bet your ass I’m not.” She walked over to a Chevy cargo van and looked inside. She offered him four thousand less than the price tag on the window.
