Brock could not avert his eyes from the stains on the carpet.
Will pointed a sharp finger. “That girl died ten damn years ago, man. And ten thousand miles from here. And there wasn’t a damn thing you could have done about it. That guy had it out for you. And she just got in the way, that’s all.”
Brock leapt to his feet and his beer went flying. “You leave Lori out of it!”
But Will knocked him to the ground. “I’m not the enemy, god dammit. But I tell you who the enemy is, it’s you. Yeah, it’s inside you and you can’t let it go. You chicken-shit. I’ve told you a hundred times. Her dying was not your fault. How could you know that Lori would come home right after that muther-fucker broke into your place? I’ve told you, he was there to kill you. She had nothing to do with it.” His volume trailed off. “I loved her too, man. I loved Lori like a little sister.” The two exchanged hard glances. “What? You don’t think I think about it too? I’ve gone over it in my head a hundred times. We had no way of knowing Pyongyang would send someone to kill you. If I could give anything, just to stop him from raping and killing Lori, I’d give it. And look at you now. You walk into a biker bar, see the same thing happening to some chick you don’t even know, and you go ape-shit.”
“I just...”
“You lost it is what you did. After seeing those tiny clips of surveillance tape on the news, I called a friend at the Bureau. He sent me the rest of the tape. Have you seen it?”
“No.”
“Well don’t. What they did to that girl was...but the point is you. You didn’t just stop them from raping her, did you? Oh hell no. You methodically took them down, one at a time. More broken bones in that biker bar than in a graveyard. And then you went one by one, snapping their necks. I suppose the three bikers that lived long enough to ride in an ambulance somehow fooled you into thinking they were already dead. Am I right?”
But Brock had no response.
“Come on, man,” said Will. “Pack a bag. Let’s get out of this town. They’re looking for you, compadre. And they won’t stop until they find you.”
“I’m off the grid. They’ll never find me.”
“I found you.”
“I can’t leave, man. I can’t.”
“And why the hell not?”
“It’s the girl. I can’t leave her. She’s still vulnerable.”
“She’s still vulnerable.” It was a statement carved from disbelief, thick and pure. “And you think that if you save this girl, everything will be alright again? You losing Lori will be made okay? Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know, man.”
“Late at night, when the demons come, they look like Lori, don’t they? Look me in the eye and tell me I’m wrong. And if you save this new girl, you think the demons will finally stop coming. Damn, you’re a piece of work, compadre.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Compadres with a Plan
“So why is it you say the girl is still vulnerable,” said Will. “You saved her already, okay? That biker gang, what’s their stupid name, The Lincoln Killers? Well, if the ones who are still alive have any sense, they’ll stay away from both you and the girl.”
“They’re watching her.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“I follow them sometimes. They drive by her bank where she works all the time. The rest of the time, I just watch her from a building across the street. They’ll come for her. At some point, they’ll come for her, and I’m going to be there again when they do.”
Will was incredulous. “Why in the hell would they be after her? It makes no sense. Half their gang already raped her and beat her half to death. She’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.”
“I haven’t figured that out yet.”
“Alright. Dammit, I knew you were going to drag me into another one of your escapades again. What do we need to do?”
“You’ll help me?” said Brock, staring into his beer.
Will jumped to his feet. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. After all we’ve been through together? After you pulled my ass out of the sling in Croatia, and that time in Kandahar, and a half dozen other times? Maybe I was your mentor in those days, but you saved my ass more than once. We’re blood. You understand me, compadre? We’re blood.”
Brock knew Will was right. They’d been in more bad shit together than he could recall, and Will was always there for him. Brock simply nodded his head.
Will asked, “They’re going to have to be taken out, aren’t they? The Lincoln Killers.”
“Damn right. Seem like such a bunch of low-lifes. I doubt they even know how to change their minds once they’re made up. They’re going to kill her, alright.”
“She’s got to be told, man. You’ve got to get to her and tell her the danger she’s in.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” said Brock into a long exhale.
“Before we do this, I want you to look at me. Look me in the eye.”
Brock complied.
“You’ve fallen for this girl, haven’t you?”
There was a long pause and Brock struggled to maintain eye contact with his mentor, his best friend. “I don’t know how it happened.”
Will stood and paced across the carpeted apartment floor. “God dammit, I knew it. This chick reminds you so much of Lori, you’ve fallen for her. Do you even know her? Hell, she could be a nut-job.”
“I know, I know. It just snuck up on me.”
“In love with a girl you don’t even know. And she’s at least ten years younger than your sorry ass.”
“I’m not in love with her, alright?”
Will laughed. “You are such a pussy, you know that? Well, this ups the stakes. The fact that you’ve got the hots for this chick means you’re ability to think critically is compromised.”
“Oh, come on. I can still think pretty clearly in a combat zone.”
“Oh really? Like you were thinking clearly when you walked around to those bikers after you’d already taken them out of commission, then snapped four of their necks? Is that the clear thinking you’re talking about?” Will shook his head. “No, you’ve got to get control of that, compadre. If we’re going to do this thing, you’ve got to quit thinking with your dick.”
“Hey!” barked Brock. “I’m not thinking with my dick! This girl is not just something to have sex with. She deserves better than that. And after what happened to her, it wouldn’t surprise me if she never wanted to have sex with a man again. And I wouldn’t blame her. But, it doesn’t change my feelings for her.”
Will walked slowly up to Brock and stood six inches from his face. “You’ve changed, man. Maybe you’re finally growing up.”
“Oh fuck you,” laughed Brock. “Growing up, huh? Alright there, dad. You got any ideas for this grown-up?”
“Yeah. We bring the girl in. We hide her. We can’t risk her being out in the open like this. And she needs to know how to protect herself.”
“Train her?”
“Damn right.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Visit from a Friend
Mav daydreamed about one day meeting the man that saved her. He was no fantasy, he was the real thing, and she knew it. Mav could not stop herself from thinking about him.
“Girl, you better snap out of it before Mr. Lorrance catches you again,” said Kiki. “Besides, you’ve got a customer waiting.”
The man that stood before her was dressed in rough blue jeans, a sleeveless t-shirt, and leather vest. He looked like he’d just been dropped out of a movie set where they were filming a low budget biker movie. It was Will.
“Oh, yes sir. How can I help?” Mav cleared her throat and cast a nervous glance at Kiki.
“Wanted to get some information about a mortgage,” said Will, removing his thick black sunglasses. His salt and pepper hair was in stark contrast to the darkness of his brown eyes.
“Please, have a seat. We have several thirty year fixed mortgage products, as well a
s some with variable rates. Do you know what you had in mind?”
Will looked over at Kiki who was studying him the way a person might study a predator. When Will’s eyes met hers, she looked back to her computer monitor and began typing.
“You are in danger,” he whispered. The statement startled Mav. Then he continued at normal volume, “The house I’m looking at buying is $145,000. I was thinking about putting 20% down.” He looked at her with cold seriousness in his eyes. But for some reason, his eyes were disarming. Looking at them instilled a kind of trust Mav was not accustomed to.
“Ahem. Well,” said Mav, “you might consider a 15 year variable. The rates are at their lowest in years.”
Will slipped a sealed envelope onto her desk and tucked it just underneath some other papers, then said, “And how much can the interest rate change in a given year?”
“What is this?” whispered Mav. But before he could answer, she saw what was written on it. On the outside of the envelope, written in pale pencil, it said one word.
‘Terminator’
It was the same name used by news outlets across the country as they referred to the man that rescued her. Mav swallowed, hard. “Rates can only increase by 1.5% in a year,” her voice cracking, “and you’re guaranteed a cap of 3.5%.” Mav again whispered, “What is this envelope? What do I do now?”
“I’ve got another appointment I’ve got to get to right now, but I’d like to fill out a mortgage application. Can you give me the paperwork?”
“Certainly. Here’s a pre-approval packet, and my business card. Please let me know if you have any questions. My mobile number is on the card. And thanks for giving Bailey Bank and Trust a chance to earn your business.”
He was gone as fast as he arrived. Mav stared at the envelope, then quickly slid it into her desk drawer.
As the morning hours ticked by, Mav stared at the top drawer of her desk. She wanted to rip that envelope open and see what was inside so badly that she could almost taste the envelope adhesive in her mouth. Thoughts bounced from one side of her head to the other. Who was he? Am I really in danger? How can I trust him? And worse, her nerves were beginning to fray. Every time the brass-framed glass door of the bank swung open, her head snapped in that direction as fear took a subtle hold. At last, the noon hour was upon her. Mav jammed the envelope into her purse and was out the door before Kiki even had a chance to finish with a customer.
Walking out onto the street was eerie. The sharp sun cast a blinding gaze across everything. It was so bright it reminded her of the first time she’d ever had a vision examination, and the optometrist had put those drops in her eyes that dilate the pupils. The result was that her eyes couldn’t shade out light for a few hours. It was blinding.
Mav ducked into a little restaurant called The Corner Deli, a little hole-in-the-wall known by all the locals, and took a seat. She pulled out the envelope. It felt like lead in her hands. Her apprehension was so high she almost didn’t have the nerve to open it. It was a standard white envelope, the kind used in every business office in the country. The word ‘Terminator’ was hand-written in pale pencil and thus was very hard to see. She slipped her finger under the seal and started to put pressure against it.
“Have we decided?” said a bubbly waitress with bright red hair.
“Oh.” Mav put a hand across her heart. “Sorry, you scared me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. You take your time.”
“No, no. I’ll have the ‘chicken over greens’ salad. Baked chicken, please.”
“Be right out for you, hun.”
Once the waitress disappeared, Mav looked back at the envelope, took a deep breath, and tore into it.
Inside was a note on plain white paper, and a single, silver key with the numbers ‘2289’ etched onto it. The handwriting on the letter matched the outside of the envelope. It was a written in a man’s hand, but was strangely neat and orderly.
To Mavery Healy
Mavery,
My name is not important right now, but you must trust me. I am the one the news media calls The Terminator. I was there that night, that awful night at Chopper Town. You have to believe me when I tell you that I had just arrived at the bar, and from the first moment I heard screams, I went to help you. I am sorry I was not there sooner. I lay awake at night wondering why I couldn’t have gotten there earlier. If I had, I could have spared you a terrible ordeal.
At any rate, your life is again in danger. The same biker gang, The Lincoln Killers, have been watching you. Please, I know you have no reason to trust me, but you are in danger. Do not return to your office. Do not return to your apartment. Turn off your cellphone. Go to the Greyhound Bus station that’s two blocks south from the bank. Make sure no one is following you. Use the key to unlock locker number 2289. Inside you’ll find proof of who I say I am, along with further instructions.
The note was not signed. Mav sat in stunned silence. She looked around at each person in the deli with a profound sense of paranoia, stood, then walked out the door.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The Locker
Mav went down a few blocks, then crossed the street of the tiny downtown area and stood on the sidewalk, staring at her own reflection in the glass of the bus station’s entrance. She reached forward to grab the handle but pulled her hand back as though afraid it might be hot to the touch. The door burst open and a man popped out, nearly knocking into her.
“Oh, excuse me,” said the man, shuffling past.
Mav gripped her purse and pulled it against her chest. Her breathing was erratic. Calm down. My God, calm down, she thought. Mav paused a moment, then went inside and scanned the wide-open area looking for any signs of irregularity. She’d never been inside, and the terminal was larger than she thought. The floor was a gray-colored tile, polished to a fine shine. Brilliant light shone off it from the long glass wall on the opposite side. She spotted the rows of rental lockers and walked in hesitation towards them. When she saw the metal nameplate that said 2289, she froze in her tracks. It was as if she was afraid a rattlesnake might be inside. She checked and rechecked the number on her key. It was correct, and after a few final glances over her shoulder, she unlocked the locker.
Inside was a long, white paperboard box, the kind she’d seen a hundred times before at the department store. Mav pried open the front, and peered inside. When she fully removed the top, laying there was a set of blue-green surgical scrubs, a surgical cap, booties for shoes, a stethoscope, and one hospital identification card. Each garment was pressed into fine creases, and placed inside the box with the precision of a military footlocker about to undergo inspection.
“Holy shit, it’s him. It’s really him. He did visit me in the hospital.” Mav’s heart fluttered. “Now what?” A cellphone rang and Mav reached into her purse to pull hers out. But once she looked at the screen, she realized she’d turned it off as instructed. The sound was coming from inside the locker—a phone was buried underneath the surgical scrubs.
“Hello?” she said in a timid voice.
“In the box you’ll find a bus ticket.” The husky voice was familiar, like something out of a dream. “Board the bus and sit in the second to last back row. Do it now.”
The call ended.
Mav was frightened but the more she thought about it, the more she determined herself she was doing the right thing. The voice; the voice was so calming and familiar. It was him, and Mav knew it. She made for the other side of the terminal and went out the glass doors. She was sure of two things; this person meant her no harm, and she was headed into utter uncertainty.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Stitching the Soul
The bus was at least three quarters full as she stepped aboard. The driver held out his hand. “This is bus number 277 to Galveston.”
“Yes, thank you.”
Mav studied each face as she shuffled down the thin aisle, looking for anything familiar. The smell was a cross between a high school locker room and sta
le beer. As she took her seat the bus driver called out onto the platform. “Number 277, Galveston. Departs in one minute.” Mav began to worry. Perhaps he wasn’t coming. As the bus engine started and began to pull out, her heart sank. But ten minutes later, a husky voice from behind whispered to her. It came from in between her seat and the empty one next to her.
“Don’t turn around. Just keep looking forward. You’re safe. No one followed you aboard, but we can’t be sure no one is following the bus. In about an hour, the bus will make a scheduled stop at Damon, Texas. There’s a Waffle House diner right near the station. Get off and walk towards the diner. Bring your things. You won’t be getting back on the bus.”
Mav’s heart raced. It was him. It was him, without a doubt. She so badly wanted to turn around and stare into those cobalt-blue eyes. It was all so exciting, terrifying, exhilarating, and frightening all at the same time. The minutes ticked by, and all she could think about was what it would be like to stare at him. The visions of what he looked like flickered in her mind’s eye. The hair, so dark, wavy, and thick. And his arms. When he would visit late at night, the only thing exposed under his hospital scrubs were his forearms. Yet they were so muscular, she just knew underneath the blue-green cloth was a chiseled set of pecks and abs that she so badly wanted to run her hands across.
Mav hadn’t been with a man since, well since all the awful happened. For the most part she didn’t think about her old life much. But from time to time, she’d see a good looking guy and wonder. For whatever reason, Mav wasn’t turned on by good looking guys anymore. What did turn her on were tough looking bad boys. It’s what brought her into Chopper Town in the first place. It had all started as a way to go deeper into the danger. For Mav, where sex was concerned, with greater danger came greater reward. She had no idea it would all go so wrong so quickly. If it hadn’t been for the man now seated behind her, she’d certainly be dead.
The Sins of Lincoln Page 4
