“Tickets! Tickets! Pull out your tickets,” he yelled, finally punching a hole in Fallon’s ticket and moving on to the next row. Fallon swallowed the acidy vomit that had crept up her throat and let out a long breath. She hadn’t even realized that she’d been holding her breath the entire time the conductor stood over her. Fallon didn’t feel the least bit relaxed until the train had pulled out of the station. When it started moving, Fallon said a silent prayer that she would make it to her destination in one piece because it seemed like trouble just kept finding her. She closed her eyes and tried to rest, but Ben’s bloodied body kept showing up in her mind. Sleep was going to be out of the question.
After an hour on the train, Fallon was starving. She was leery of everyone on the train, but she was too hungry to care anymore. Fallon couldn’t even remember the last decent meal she’d had. She got up and made her way to the train’s dining car and as soon as she stepped inside the food smells really made her stomach start to growl. She could’ve eaten everything on the menu and felt like it wouldn’t be enough.
The train’s dining car was packed. That meant Fallon would have to share a seat with someone. Not her ideal situation because she couldn’t keep her face obscured by the newspaper while she tried to eat. Fallon ordered her food and scanned the rows of seat. She found a row that was empty.
“Great,” Fallon whispered, excited inside. Before she could fully settle down enough to put her food down and start eating someone approached her. Fallon’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the voice.
“Excuse me ma’am,” the man’s voice came from behind Fallon. She froze. “Ma’am?” the man said again. Fallon took a deep breath and mumbled a “yes.”
“Is anyone sitting here?” the man asked. Fallon swallowed hard.
“Um…no, not that I know of,” she answered. Immediately she was kicking herself for being honest. She should’ve said she was waiting for her husband or something.
“Oh good. It’s packed and I am starving,” the man said lightly.
Fallon was secretly pissed that he wanted to sit with her, but she played it off. Fallon inched inside the booth and sat next to the window and the man sat directly across from her. He put her food on the small table that separated them. Fallon instantly felt ashamed of the greasy burger and fries she chose since the man had a grilled chicken salad. She finally took a quick look at him. He wasn’t bad looking for an older man. He still had a full head of hair although it was speckled with gray hairs. Fallon thought his cinnamon colored skin against his neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard and goatee made him look like a distinguished older man. Fallon eyed him carefully without really staring. More noticeable was the man’s David Yurman cuff links, his Presidential Rolex and the Armani suit and tie he was rocking. His entire look screamed wealthy. Fallon imagined that the man probably had a wallet filled with fifty-dollar bills. Probably two stacks worth of fifties or better yet an American Express black card or platinum Discover. Fallon’s imagination ran wild. Money was something she needed right now. Stealing was what she did best and after a few minutes Fallon decided this man would be a victim of her craft. Just like any heist or robbery she’d carried out with her siblings, Fallon was carefully thinking of a plan that would be feasible to execute. She couldn’t just stick a gun in his face and grab his shit like she did when she was on a fast bank heist because he would scream and yell for the police. She also couldn’t get close enough to lift his wallet like her and Autumn used to do when they were bored and decided to go on a few pickpocket runs. Fallon had to be more sophisticated about this little miniature heist; a challenge that she welcomed right now as a distraction from her situation.
“Wonder where all of these people are going,” Fallon said to the man, keeping her head kind of low but smiling. Small talk was the best way to start with the ritzy types. The man took in a forkful of his salad and chuckled. Fallon thought he’d ignore her and turn his nose up to her since she was dressed like a bum so she was surprised and happy when he didn’t.
“When I’m on these quick business trips and I have to occasionally take the train, I’ve wondered the same thing. Where in the world is everyone going? Is it business or pleasure,” the man replied.
It was so refreshing to Fallon that an older black man was so well put together and obviously well off financially. Fallon imagined that the man probably had some high society wife that owned every color Birkin bag ever made and spent her days at the spa or getting Botox injections. Fallon immediately felt jealous. Fallon had always wanted to be married to a good man, living a high-class life. It would’ve never happened with Linx, a fact that often still bothered Fallon.
“What type of business?” Fallon asked. The man looked at her surprised.
“Sorry if I’m being nosey,” she apologized with a quick, soft smile. This was part of the set up. She had to get him to let his guard down. Even during heists with her siblings, Fallon found small talk worked best at getting people to let their instinctive guards down.
“Oh no, no. Me, um…I am in the investment banking business,” the man replied. “What about you? Where are you headed?”
Fallon hadn’t thought that far ahead or anticipated him asking her any questions, but she’d always been quick on her feet when it came to lying so it took her no time to quickly conjure a story in her head.
“I’m heading to the University of Nevada Las Vegas for an internship. Yeah, an internship in…um…banking security,” Fallon fabricated. That would be the day; me working in banking security when I am a professional bank robber. Hah! Fallon laughed to herself. The man smiled.
“UNLV and banking security…sounds interesting. So I guess we have something in common. I work in the banking industry and you’re interested in protecting it,” he said. Fallon raised an eyebrow at the irony and she smiled too.
“Dustin,” he said extending his hand. Fallon noticed that he gave her his right hand and not the left one where his wedding ring probably sat.
“Annette,” she replied accepting his hand for a shake.
“You’re pretty, Annette,” Dustin complimented. Fallon blushed. Although she already knew how gorgeous she was whenever a man gave her a compliment she blushed.
Fallon and her new train buddy Dustin both finished their food, but not before they had gotten into a pretty deep conversation about world events, the country’s financial situation and the fact that we finally have a black president. The entire time Fallon was speaking to her new friend, she was still trying to think of a way to get to his wallet, watch and cash. Then, like some kind of miracle, Dustin smiled at her and said, “Listen Annette, I am enjoying your company so much I don’t want it to end. It certainly made this long ride much nicer. I have a deluxe sleeper car reserved just for me but it can sleep two. It comes complete with a television and a fully stocked wet bar. I don’t know if this will seem forward, but I’d like to invite you to join me for the night. If you get my drift.”
Bingo! Fucking bingo! What a lonely old man. Fallon said to herself.
“I wouldn’t want to crowd you. I know those carts are pretty small,” Fallon replied, playing hard to get.
“Oh no, no. I really, really don’t mind being crowded” Dustin replied, reaching out and touching the top of her hand.
“I don’t know,” Fallon said acting like she was undecided.
Dustin touched the top of his wallet knowingly. Fallon felt a flash of heat burn through her chest. The nerve of this motherfucker! He fucking thinks I’m a prostitute! Fallon was always amazed at these rich types that picked up strange women with the hopes of having kinky sex. She was going to play along until she got what she wanted. Fallon put on a face that told Dustin she knew just what he was getting at. He looked excited as hell too.
“Ok, I’ll stay with you,” Fallon acquiesced. I will be leaving with all of your shit too, dumb ass. It was risky, but now Fallon had something to prove. She wasn’t really thinking straight at all. She saw dollar signs and she definitely
ignored the danger signs.
Dustin had been right when he said the Amtrak sleeper cars were nice. It was actually like a miniature hotel room. Fallon looked around amazed at how much fit into the space. The bed was built so that it could fold into the wall. There was a small flat screen suspended from the ceiling in front of the bed and a small computer table that stuck out of the wall across from the bed. There was a private toilet and sink and even a wall closet where Dustin had several of his suits hung up.
“Fancy,” Fallon commented with a fake smile.
“Yes, they do pretty well with these new trains. For me it’s better than flying and being cramped up for hours. Make yourself at home,” Dustin said invitingly as he loosened his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Fallon thought it was so ballsy of him to assume she was going to fuck him. Just as she was feeling like cursing him out, Dustin tossed his diamond encrusted watch and his fat wallet onto the small table inside the room. Fallon eyed the goods and was quickly reminded of why she had decided to join the man in the first place.
Fallon bit her tongue and didn’t say what she was thinking. Instead she kicked off her sneakers and climbed onto the bed. She still hadn’t removed her clothes or hat so Dustin still hadn’t gotten a full look at her entire face. That’s the way she liked it.
“Close the shades and turn off the lights please,” Fallon said softly. “I can’t sleep with so much light.” Dustin smiled wickedly as if he thought he could read some other message in her words. When the room was dark enough, Fallon took off her hat and clothes. She said a silent prayer that she would make it through this and told herself it was necessary.
Dustin climbed onto the bed with her and immediately her skin started to crawl. Fallon was an admitted nympho and she loved sex; all kinds of sex, but never in her life had she had sex for money or convenience. Her siblings definitely owe her one for this bullshit because if she didn’t want to see them so badly she would’ve told Dustin to go fuck himself for assuming she was pussy for hire.
“You are so soft,” Dustin breathed into her ear, running his hands all over her body. Fallon closed her eyes and willed herself to carry out the mission at hand. She felt like a little girl being molested by an old perverted man.
“And your dick is so hard,” she let out a fake giggle and forced herself to touch Dustin’s five inch sorry ass dick. He was grunting and breathing hard and Fallon had barely touched him. She fiddled with his dick for a few more minutes.
“I want to fuck you so hard and long Annette,” Dustin huffed, sounding like one of those porn stars from the 1970’s. His breath was horrendous too, even more of a reason for Fallon to rush this shit along.
“You got a condom?” she asked. Dustin started fumbling under the pillow where he had already stashed a condom. Fallon listened to the wrapper crinkling and she wanted to just run over to her bag, get her gun and blow this man’s head off. “Got it on big daddy?” Fallon cooed.
“Just about,” Dustin grunted. In the darkness Fallon rolled her eyes and dry heaved.
Once he had the condom on, Fallon prevented him from climbing on her. Instead, she got on top of him. She didn’t like men to have her in a position of weakness so she was taking the lead.
“No, let me ride this dick into the Las Vegas sunset big daddy,” Fallon whispered as she moved up and down. She couldn’t tell if his dick was inside of her or not because it was so small she could barely feel anything.
“Oh wow. You feel so…so, good,” Dustin panted. He was wheezing and panting like they had been having sex for hours. Fallon was bored to death. Each time she went up and came back down on his dick it was like nothing was inside of her at all. Fallon bounced up and down harder and harder, but no matter how fast and hard she went, she couldn’t even feel any friction. Dustin however was in ecstasy.
“Uh you feel so tight. You feel so good,” Dustin was panting. Thank goodness it was dark so Dustin couldn’t see how uninterested Fallon was. It was about six minutes into it and Dustin was already screaming out as he busted a nut. Fallon wanted to laugh. What a joke. If she was married to a man, no matter how rich, that couldn’t last past six minutes she would’ve murdered his ass for the insurance money.
“Just lay with me Annette. I have your money over there, but please just lay with me,” Dustin pleaded sounding like a lonely, desperate old man. Fallon climbed off of him and lay next to him like he’d asked. The stranger stroked her head like he loved her. Fallon closed her eyes. She told herself she would just wait until he fell asleep first and then she would get his shit, grab her bag and be gone. She would go all the way to the front of the train so it would take Dustin forever to walk through the long train and find her. Fallon hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until she finally laid on the soft bed. Her body melted against the mattress and as hard as she tried to keep herself awake, the sheer exhaustion she was feeling from being on the run came crashing down on her like a ton of bricks. Fallon was asleep within minutes. Big mistake!
Fallon jumped up from her sleep to the sound of computer keys being pecked. “Fuck!” she whispered, swiping roughly at her eyes to clear the sleep from them. She whipped her head around; looking around the strange room in an attempt to get her bearings. Dustin stopped typing on his computer and turned towards her. The look on his face was one that Fallon would never forget—a mixture of terror, hurt and gratification.
“You told me your name was Annette…but you’re her…I mean…this…this is you,” Dustin stammered, turning his computer screen towards her. It was today’s headline news and there it was a huge Most Wanted picture of Fallon splashed across his computer screen. Fallon was stunned. Her brain was slow to the draw because she’d just woken up. Her legs and arms felt like she had worked out for twelve hours.
“You’re a goddamned fugitive,” Dustin said, terror flitting through his voice.
“I can explain Dustin. Don’t make any rash decisions,” Fallon said calmly, putting her hands up in surrender. She went to climb off the bed and Dustin jumped up from his chair.
“This says that you shot a police officer and killed a man in a hotel room. That you escaped from a jail house in Baltimore where you were awaiting trial for hundreds of bank robberies,” Dustin relayed with his voice trembling with fear as she backed up.
Fallon moved and Dustin grabbed for his cell phone.
“I…I…have to turn you in. I have to call the police,” he said rushing his words out.
“Put the phone down Dustin. I don’t want to hurt you,” Fallon said, pressing her hands forward trying to reason with him. She eyed her bag, but it was too far away. Dustin had put it under the computer table next to where he stood. Fallon really didn’t want to catch another body. All she had wanted was his watch and his money, nothing more. She was kicking herself inside for slipping up and falling into such a deep sleep.
“No! I’m calling the police! You’re a murderer and you have to be turned in,” he said frantically.
This bastard act like he can’t understand that I’m not going down. Porters don’t go down!
Fallon flexed her jaw and sprang into action. She lunged at Dustin causing him to fall over the small chair. He was on his stomach, but he still held the phone. Fallon was on his back wrestling him for the phone.
“I said give me the fucking phone,” Fallon growled. She balled her fist and slammed it into the back of his head. His cell phone skittered into a corner in the sleeper cart. Dustin reached back, trying in vain to grab Fallon’s face. When that didn’t work, he tried to buck her off of his back. Fallon was not fazed. She was too strong. She rained punches down on Dustin’s head one after the other. She could feel him weakening under him, but she knew this wouldn’t work for much longer. Her bag was too far away to retrieve her gun besides a gunshot on the train would be way too risky. From the corner of her eye, Fallon spotted Dustin’s tie. She stretched her body over and grabbed it. In that split second, Dustin was able to get up onto his knees. Fallon was still on his bac
k, but she was unstable because of the position he was in. He was coughing and holding his chest. Fallon’s eyes grew wide. Was he having a heart attack? A death by natural causes would’ve been perfect, but she couldn’t chance it. Fallon quickly took the tie and looped it around the already weakened man’s neck. Dustin began flailing and gagging, his mouth hung open. Fallon crossed the two ends of the tie and pulled it as tightly as she could around the man’s neck. It was taking all of her strength as Dustin collapsed back onto his stomach and began struggling against the restraint. His legs kicked and his arms flailed wildly, his body’s natural reaction to being suffocated. Fallon’s arms were killing her from pulling so hard, but after a few minutes she could feel Dustin’s body going slack. Tears were rolling down Fallon’s eyes as she pulled and squeezed to save her own life.
“Why did you have to make me do this? I would’ve walked away if you would’ve just kept your mouth shut. I would’ve left your money, your watch, everything if you would’ve just shut up,” Fallon moaned through tears. These murders were starting to take their toll on her. When Dustin was completely still, Fallon looked down at him. She dry heaved a few times seeing Dustin’s tongue hanging out of his mouth and his eyes bulging from his head. His lips were already turning blue. Fallon began to panic. She whirled around the room unable to get it together.
“Think Fallon…think!” she scolded herself. Then she noticed that Dustin’s computer was still on the news story. Fallon took a towel and clicked a few keys so she could read the story. The more she read the more her stomach churned.
“I knew I shouldn’t have trusted Drew! Motherfucker gave them everything now I can’t even use the credit cards I have! Fuck Fallon!” she cursed.
Fallon turned in circles trying to get her thoughts to calm down enough to come up with the next move. She stopped when she noticed the little sign for the door. She quickly put the Do Not Disturb sign on yet another door, this time to keep the train attendants away until she could wipe the room down and get the fuck out of there. Fallon grabbed Dustin’s wallet, watch and expensive cuff links. She slipped into her clothes. She looked down at the man’s dead body and suddenly she felt cold all over. Just then she heard the train’s loudspeaker crackle to life. The announcement said they had arrived. The train had pulled into the Las Vegas station.
The Circle: Fallon's Story (THE CIRCLE SERIES) Page 11
