The Jock

by Jaid Black

  Gwenyth glanced inattentively into the rearview mirror, then back to the road ahead. Frowning, she peered into the mirror again to make certain she had really seen what her distracted eyes had told her she had. Unfortunately, her vision hadn’t failed her.

  The white sedan was back.

  Biting her lip, Gwenyth coasted into the parking lot of the Greek diner and veered into a parking space in front of it. Turning around in her seat, she waited to see what the white sedan would do.

  Much to Gwenyth’s chagrin, it pulled up behind the jeep, effectively blocking her into the parking space. Her heart racing, she clutched her belly and breathed deeply as she waited for the scene to play out. Very slowly, so slow that it felt like something out of a nightmare, the driver’s side window rolled down.

  “Devin,” she murmured.

  Gwenyth’s green eyes rounded to saucers as the lawyer saluted her with the well- known two-fisted symbol commonly used by NAM supporters. The calculating glimmer in his dark, lifeless eyes sent shivers down her spine. The man was crazy. He was going to kill her. He would never stop until she was dead or he was in prison. Or both.

  And then he drove away. Leisurely. Like he had all the time in the world. The wink Devin gave Gwenyth before pulling out of the parking lot suggested that their paths would cross again. He’d see to it.

  Gwenyth turned around in her seat and closed her eyes while she collected herself. She would just have to make certain that they never did.

  * * * * *

  “I just got off the phone with my company. Devin hasn’t shown up for work in over a week.” Marc let out a long sigh, then gestured toward Sam. “When will Detective Anderson be here?”

  “About thirty minutes.” Sam stroked Gwenyth’s hair as he held her securely on his lap. “Unless he comes up with a full proof plan, I’m backin’ out of my contract and stayin’ at home to watch over my wife.”

  Gwenyth’s head shot up. “Sam, you can’t do that. It will cost us too much money.” “I don’t give a damn about the money, Gwenyth Marie.”

  “Well I do.” She patted him reassuringly on the hand. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll stay with Candy if need be.”

  Sam rolled his eyes. He snorted disbelievingly. “Is that supposed to make me feel better or worse?”

  “Hey!” Candy piped up for the first time since she’d arrived. “Just what does that mean?”

  “It means that I’ve met detonated bombs with more stability than you.”

  Candy thrust her hands indignantly to her hips. “Name one.”

  Sam shook his finger and glowered. “Now listen here—”

  “Enough.” Gwenyth closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “You know Candy would never do anything to endanger me or the baby, Sam. You owe her an apology.”

  Sam gritted his teeth at the haughty look Candy threw his way, but relented in the end. “Oh alright, damn it. Candy, I apologize. I’m sure you have more stability than the majority of detonated bombs out there on the market today, blowin’ up land mines and derailin’ passenger trains.”

  Candy lifted an ebony brow. “In the history of apologies, that was the worst apology that I’ve ever had the misfortune of being subjected to.”

  Sam blew out a beleaguered breath. “Probably.” Running his hand frenziedly through his hair, he closed his eyes briefly and sighed again. “I’m sorry, Can. I know you’ll watch over Gwenyth better than anybody. I just hate the fact that it can’t be me.”

  Candy strolled over to where Sam and Gwenyth sat and took his hand between her own. “I know, Sam. It will be alright. I promise.”

  Sam squeezed Candy’s hand and grunted. “Let’s just hope the police find this maniac soon.”

  Marc scratched his head thoughtfully. “Maniac is probably the key word here.”

  Gwenyth moaned. “Please don’t get my husband riled up.”

  Marc held up his palms in a gesture of mock surrender and grinned. “I’m not trying to, I swear it.” His expression grew serious. “But Gwen, let’s face it. There’s something seriously off about that guy.”

  Sam shot to his feet and stomped over to the phone. Gwenyth waved her hand toward him. “Who are you calling?”

  “I’m callin’ Harry in D.C. I want him to pull a few strings and get us some more help on this case.”

  “Do you think he can?”

  “At this point anything’s worth a try.”

  * * * * *

  Even though Gwenyth felt that, at times, her situation resembled that of a chicken penned up in its coop, the next few days passed by well enough. It seemed as if she and Candy spent more time together in three days than they’d spent in the last year. Gwenyth mused to herself that when spring training had finally arrived, she’d basically ended up trading in one prison guard for another. And Candy was taking her duty altogether seriously.

  Gwenyth absently rubbed her slightly distended belly while she flipped through channels on Candy’s TV. Candy was sitting across the room at her computer, typing up a love scene with one hand and drinking a cup of coffee with the other. Occasionally she would mumble something unintelligible, but other than that, the only sound that could be heard from her corner was the clicking of the keyboard.

  An hour later, Candy turned off her computer and groaned as she stretched out her shoulder muscles. Gwenyth flipped off the remote and grinned. “Tired?”

  “Yeah.” Candy popped a piece of bubble gum into her mouth, chewed it for all of thirty seconds, then spit it into a nearby tissue. “Good lord, I’m so tired I can’t even chew gum.”

  Gwenyth rested her chin in the palms of her hands and smiled. “Is that the book about the nun and the ex-con?”

  Candy picked up her cup of coffee and padded across the room. “No. I finished that one already. This is a short story I’m working on for an anthology.”

  “Oh? What’s it about?” Candy’s fidgetiness made Gwenyth’s curiosity soar. “Come on, Can. Do tell.”

  Candy plopped down on the sofa cushion next to Gwenyth and shrugged. “A baseball player, I think,” she muttered. She took a quick sip of coffee before adding, “And it’s not based on Brian Goodman either, okay?”

  Gwenyth pretended to study her cuticles. “What’s the hero’s name?”

  Candy raised her cup up to her lips. “I forget,” she mumbled. At Gwenyth’s raised eyebrows she elaborated, “It’s Ryan Hoodman, okay?”

  Gwenyth grinned. No connection to Brian Goodman indeed. “So tell me, Can,” she teased, “is Ryan Hoodman good in bed?”

  Candy had the grace to blush—profusely. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had him. He isn’t real.”

  “He’s very real,” Gwenyth murmured.

  “Trust me, Gwen. No man is really as nice as Brian—I mean Ryan—pretends to be. In the end they are all dogs.”

  Gwenyth patted her best friend’s hand as she took to her feet. Candy would have to get over that particular problem on her own. “Sam will be home in an hour so I’m going to head out and pick up some dinner.”

  “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Gwenyth shook her head and grinned. “No, you’ve done more than your fair share of babysitting today. Go get some rest.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure.”

  Candy stared at Gwenyth for a drawn out moment before acquiescing with a nod. “Okay, but drive carefully.”

  “Relax,” Gwenyth chuckled, “how dangerous can Chinese take-out be?”

  Chapter 23

  After exiting Mr. Wok’s Drive-Thru Palace, Gwenyth’s jeep got no further than three lights down the street before it stalled. Hitting the dashboard with the heel of her hand, she cursed the engine, and tried to restart the ignition. No luck.

  Sighing, Gwenyth reached into her purse and switched on her cell phone. When it made a series of three loud beeps, she flipped it over and peered down at it. Low battery. Snorting humorlessly, she tried once more to ignite the jeep’s engine. “How much worse can this nig
ht get?” she muttered to herself.

  A few moments later, a white sedan eased up next to Gwenyth on the nearly deserted side street and coasted up beside the jeep. Swallowing nervously, she took the keys out of the ignition and wrapped her fingers around the key on her ring with the sharpest edge to it.

  Devin disembarked from the white sedan and walked slowly toward the jeep. Gwenyth could tell he was wearing something akin to cowboy boots for she could hear every click of his gait pounding towards her. Determined not to get cornered inside of her own automobile, Gwenyth slammed opened the driver’s side door and stood up. “Devin.”

  Devin stopped a few paces back from the jeep’s door and grinned. His smile was unnatural, his eyes the same fathomless pits they had been at their last meeting. “The name’s Devin Green, Mrs. Tremont, but perhaps you already know that.” His gaze flickered around the empty street. “Getting kinda dark, don’t you think?”

  Gwenyth ignored the chill bumps making gooseflesh of her skin and concentrated instead on figuring a way around the larger man. “Are you threatening me, Devin?” she asked quietly.

  The lawyer smiled. “No ma’am, I never threaten.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  Devin’s sickening gaze roamed the length of Gwenyth’s body. “What do you think I want?” he said just as quietly.

  Gwenyth needed to hear no more. With a strength she didn’t even know she possessed, she slammed the jeep’s door into Devin’s legs and knocked him to the ground. Without looking back, she then fled into the night.

  * * * * *

  Candy paced the length of her living room. There was no answer at Gwenyth’s and Sam’s and she knew that Gwen should have been home by now. Candy thought back on every word of conversation that had passed between them before her best friend had left. Gwenyth had definitely mentioned picking up Chinese food on the way home. That could only mean Mr. Wok’s. It was her favorite.

  Decision made, Candy picked up her car keys and bolted toward the front door. Just as she was about to close it behind her, the telephone rang. Sighing in relief, she sprinted towards it. “Hello? Is that you, Gwen? Are you okay?”

  “Candy? What’s goin’ on? Where’s my wife?”

  Candy’s hand flew to her throat. “Oh my God, Sam. I never should have let her go home alone. I’m so sorry.”

  “Candy, calm down. Where’s Gwen?”

  “I don’t know!” she cried. “I don’t know!” Candy began pacing the length of the floor as she recanted what she knew of her best friend’s whereabouts. “I thought it would be okay to let her go alone! It’s a drive-thru restaurant for pete’s sake!”

  “Candy, listen to me. I am less than two minutes from Mr. Wok’s, alright? Do not go anywhere. Lock your door, then call Detective Anderson and tell him what you told me. I’m goin’ after Gwen.” Sam clutched the steering wheel. “Do you got that, sweetheart?”

  “Yes. J-Just bring her back, okay Sam?”

  “I will. And Candy…”

  “Huh?”

  “You did a good job. Don’t blame yourself.”

  * * * * *

  “There’s no use in running, bitch! I’m gonna catch you.” Devin’s inhuman laughter echoed through the alleyway.

  Gwenyth clutched her keys tightly in her fist as she dashed through the shrubbery of an adjacent office building. It dawned on her that the jingling sound the keys made no doubt gave her location away to Devin Green, but she wasn’t about to give up the only makeshift weapon she had on hand to silence them.

  Gwenyth knew that Devin was gaining on her. She could hear his triumphant laughter, hear the heels of his boots clicking on the alley pavement behind her. Of all the sections in and around Hyde Park, why did her jeep have to give out within the confines of the sole deserted one?

  The clicking of Devin’s boot heels drew closer and closer until Gwenyth was certain she would be overtaken at any moment. She was tiring, her energy was rapidly depleting. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold him off for much longer.

  And then something extraordinary happened. Something she hadn’t been expecting at all. Something rather ordinary as life goes, but that something gave her energy she desperately needed. The life within Gwenyth moved for the first time.

  She could feel it, that tiny little being she and Sam had created together, letting her know that it was there and that it needed its mama to keep going. It was as if the baby was telling her that she simply couldn’t give up at this point.

  With a burst of renewed energy, Gwenyth dashed through the shrubbery of another building and found herself running down a side street with houses situated in it. Now if only she could make it to one with a light on before Devin made it to her and her unborn child.

  Gwenyth clutched her belly with her hands and ran as fast as her legs would carry her. Please dear God, she prayed, just let someone be home.

  * * * * *

  A million and one memories flitted in and out of Sam’s mind as his Mercedes barreled down the streets of Hyde Park. The ice cream cone he’d bought Gwenyth when she was five years old. The jersey he’d thrown her way after he’d won the big high school game—the jersey his wife still wore at times. The way she smiled. The way she laughed. The strawberry scent of her beautiful, tawny hair. The sound of her climaxing when they made love. The way she’d rub her belly and smile down at their unborn child.

  Sam had never felt so helpless and desolate in his life, as he felt right now. The people at Mr. Wok’s had said she’d left half an hour ago. Gwenyth wasn’t at home, she wasn’t at Willy and Verlene’s, and she wasn’t at Candy’s. The remaining possibility was not a pleasant one.

  Sam backtracked once more, taking the side roads he assumed Gwenyth would have taken on her way back from Mr. Wok’s. At the next left, he swerved his Mercedes into an alley, then brought it to a screeching halt.

  Gwenyth’s jeep. Gwenyth’s abandoned jeep. Parked next to an abandoned white sedan.

  Sweet Jesus.

  Sam threw the gear into reverse and peeled out of the alley.

  * * * * *

  Gwenyth could hear Devin’s shrill, unnatural laughter. It was hollow and taunting and far too close. He was gaining on her again. He was gaining on her and there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. And yet she kept moving.

  On some surreal, abstract plane, it occurred to Gwenyth that whenever characters in the movies and in books are faced with similar situations, their lives always flash before their eyes. She wished something like that would happen to her now. It would give her something peaceful to dwell on instead of the unadulterated terror that she felt. She had nothing left in her. Her tired body was operating on pure adrenaline, on a primal instinct of survival. But even adrenaline could only run so long.

  The sound of a car tearing down the street brought Gwenyth’s chin up. Though still at a distance, there was something vaguely familiar about that car. It almost looked like—“Sam!” Tears pooled in Gwenyth’s eyes as she waved her hands frantically at the oncoming Mercedes. “Sam!”

  The Mercedes peeled to a grinding stop a moment later and Sam jumped out of the car. “Gwen!” He sprinted towards his wife at top speed. “Baby, are you okay?”

  Gwenyth threw herself into Sam’s arms and buried her face against his chest. “He was going to hurt me!” she sobbed. “I almost didn’t make it!”

  Sam recognized that his wife was hysterical and for good reason. He also recognized, however, that Devin was getting away—again. “Baby get into the car and call the police.” He swatted her toward the Mercedes. “Do as I say now. Go on!”

  Gwenyth’s teeth clamped down hard on her lip as she watched her husband chase after Devin Green. The sounds of police sirens blared in the background, drawing closer and closer with each heartbeat.

  Just a few seconds later, Sam caught up with his wife’s stalker. Gwenyth had no idea whatsoever what Sam was doing to him, but the sounds of Devin’s screams carried through the dimly lit street. Gwenyth clo
sed her eyes and cried softly. She almost hated herself for enjoying it.

  Almost.

  Chapter 24

  “So that bastard was actually related to the former Senator Green?” Candy accepted a glass of wine from Marc, then plopped down onto the sofa next to Gwenyth.

  “His brother.” Gwenyth shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. All this over some freakin’ photographs.”

  “Not just any photographs,” Marc added, “but extremely famous photographs.”

  Gwenyth’s head shot up. She turned her bemused gaze onto her husband’s handsome friend and future business partner. “I suppose the black bar the Miami Herald placed over Devin’s groin was a tad on the small side, but I wasn’t the one who actually put it there.”

  “God I feel so guilty,” Candy admitted forlornly. “The pictures were all my idea to begin with.”

  “Don’t do that to yourself, Can, because it isn’t worth it. The man is behind bars where he belongs.”

  Sam pulled his wife onto his lap and made her stay put. He wouldn’t let the woman out of his sight for a long, long time. At least not until he was totally over this. Like when he was dead. “I for one am just glad this is all over with.” He lowered his face to meet Gwenyth’s lips and nipped at them lovingly. “And that the hospital gave my wife and child a clean bill of health.”

  Marc raised his wineglass in salute. “Hear, hear.”

  “There’s something I don’t get.” Candy shook her head thoughtfully, her eyes expressive as she turned toward Marc. “How is it that you never put two and two together and figured out that Devin was Larry Green’s brother?”

  Marc shrugged. “At work Devin always went by his mother’s maiden name of Coltrane.”

  Gwenyth made an indelicate snort. “Apparently good ole Larry wasn’t as dumb as I thought. The police said that the former senator was very aware of the fact that his brother’s connection to NAM would hurt him in the polls so he convinced Devin to go by a different last name.” She glanced up at her husband and shook her head. “What a lying coward. It wasn’t that he disapproved of his brother’s connection, it was that he knew he wouldn’t get reelected if it was found out.”