True Grit

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True Grit Page 5

by Bella Knight


  "He works a dangerous job," said Gregory. "He loves what he does. He was wearing a vest, which is why he is alive, and why he walked in front of you." He finished cooking his marshmallow and blew on it to cool it. "He is a professional, and he was literally trained to do that."

  Ace snorted. "I'm not the president."

  "Well, you are that important to me," said Lily. They kissed, a hot one that it went on and on.

  Several people threw marshmallows at them. Gregory ate his. "Get a room," he said.

  "I think we will," said Ace. He stood, handed out the blankets, and took Lily inside.

  "We won't see them again for three days," said Gregory.

  "Way to clear a room," said Ivy.

  "Let them go," said Bella. "They won't have time later."

  Ivy snorted. "We do."

  Inola snorted. "That's because your kids are the cutest fucking babies on the planet, and Bao is a built-in babysitter."

  "And because I am a champion scheduler," said Callie.

  "So that's how you do it," said Gregory thoughtfully. "Well, fuck! Gotta get me a calendar."

  "Your cell phone has one," said Bella. "Try working swing when your wife is feeding horses at five am. Either you schedule, or you don't get some."

  Henry put his fingers in his ears. "La la la," he said. "Not what I wanted to hear."

  David laughed and pulled out his cell phone. "Saturday night?" he said. Everyone laughed as Henry turned a bright shade of pink.

  "Stupidity comes in many forms. When it comes in the form of those supposed to protect us, watch out."

  2

  Vengeance is Mine

  “Vengeance is a dish best served ice cold... and don’t get caught.”

  The adoption went through at the beginning of the week. Tam and Nico dressed in tiny suits, as did Nantan. Chayton was quiet, but smiled for the pictures.

  "Why are you unhappy?" said Nantan, as the lawyer and judge congratulated the boys.

  "We are not yet married, and I cannot adopt the boys."

  Nantan said, "I thought we had decided to wait a year."

  "We will speak deeply later," said Chayton, smiling as the boys crashed into his legs. He knelt and hugged them both. "Are you our other daddy?" asked Tam.

  Nantan knelt too. "Yes, but not officially yet. We're waiting a little while, then we will marry, and you will be our best men."

  "Do we have to plan a party?" asked Tam.

  "No, you will carry our rings," said Chayton. Tam's face relaxed. "It will be very fun."

  "Good," said Tam. "I'm hungry."

  "What did you want to eat?" asked Chayton, after hugging both the boys. Nantan hugged them as well.

  "Hot dogs," said Tam.

  "Hamburgers," said Nico.

  "Well, I know someplace that has both," said Nantan.

  Chayton kissed his cheek. "Let's go."

  Nantan shook the lawyer's hand again, and they went to get changed. Everyone got out of their suits, and dressed in jeans and sweatshirts. They went to a diner with red leather seats, and the boys ordered shakes with their meals, even in winter. Chayton and Nantan had coffee and ate sandwiches.

  "Why aren't you married yet?" asked Nico, stealing one of his brother's fries.

  "Quit sneaking your brother's food," said Nantan. "We wanted to wait a little, be sure everything was working out okay."

  "Is it working out okay?" asked Tam, stealing a fry back.

  "It's the best it's ever been for me," said Nantan. "I think we should adopt a girl next, not have so many boys in the house."

  Tam, Nico and Chayton stared at him for a moment. "Naw," said Nico. "They like to tell you what to do, where to put your clothes and stuff." Nantan and Chayton both put their coffees down and belly laughed.

  Later that night, once the boys were asleep after they were able to read them stories inside their room, they wearily went to bed at the end of the hall. They carefully hung up their suit jackets, and undressed for bed.

  "I was so scared this day wouldn't happen," said Nantan.

  "I understand," said Chayton. "Especially with their father being insane and a murderer who killed their mother."

  "He was a mean drunk," said Nantan. "And a fool. He had the best boys under the sky of the Creator, and he did not treat them with respect or love." He peeled off his jeans, checked the pockets, then threw them in the hamper.

  "I did things I regret as well," said Chayton, checking his own pockets.

  "What did you do?" asked Nantan.

  Chayton sat down on the edge of the bed and held Nantan's hand. "Love, I left for China for a reason. I was military, two years. Got shot at twice, once not by the enemy. I had surgery to scrape my throat, took hormones to grow breasts, and shaved. Didn't go drinking with anyone; saved my money for Thailand. I wanted the best surgeons, you know?"

  "I know," said Nantan.

  "I was off base with some girlfriends. I had just legally changed my first name to Chayton. And my name, seemed so right. My brother Keyan was so happy. He said he knew I was his brother from the start. I met him off-base; he wanted to meet my friends. He bought a round for everyone. We were just laughing. Some drunk guys called me a tranny, tried to pick a fight. My girls put two of them in the hospital," he said with a smile. "Survived getting called to the carpet once they saw the tape. The drunk guys had pool cues. One had a knife."

  There is not a good ending to this story, thought Nantan.

  "They came after me later on, in a parking lot of the PBX. Had no idea how they got on base. Turns out a girl who had no idea what they had done signed in two of her friends. One of them had a gun. I shot that guy in the leg, didn't shoot the other one. I was an MP, required to carry a weapon," he said. "They wanted to discharge me, make the whole mess go away, but I requested a transfer to South Korea. Got out with my degree, went to China to teach. The rest you know."

  "What a nasty mess," said Nantan. "You did so well." He kissed Nantan. "And you came back the man I love."

  "Couldn't let you marry me without knowing the whole thing."

  "The military? Really? You're such a gentle person."

  Chayton sighed. "Had to pay for school, somehow."

  "Well, fuck," said Nantan. "No one should have treated you like that."

  "The thing is," said Chayton, "I never touched the guys in the bar. My friends were MPs too. It all happened so very fast. I stood in front of Keyan, to protect him. He was always so sweet, and so sweet on the ladies. Could never understand how I ended up gay."

  Nantan laughed, kissed him. "I'm glad you did." He stripped Chayton, brought him to the shower as he pulled off his own clothes and threw three-pointers into the garbage.

  He knelt in the shower, caressed Chayton's body, hard from his head to his toes with muscle. The man lifted kids, rode horses, lifted bales of hay, moved pallets of vegetables, and ran seven miles a day.

  "You are my fantasy," he said to Chayton. "Someone who understands my language, my culture. Someone so strong and yet so gentle and kind. I love you, Chayton."

  Chayton kissed Nantan. "I love you with all my heart."

  Nantan pressed Chayton up against the wall of the shower, and they kissed deeply. They stroked each other, caressed, made each other rock-hard. They both came at the same time, leaned against each other, holding each other up. Chayton washed Nantan first; slowly, lovingly. Nantan did the same.

  They ran out of hot water and ended up slipping on the floor. They went down, Nantan on top. "This could get interesting," said Chayton.

  "Bed," said Nantan. "It's too small in here for two guys, and the floor is wet." He gave Chayton a hand up, and Chayton dried Nantan. Nantan groaned as Chayton knelt. "Love, I don't think..."

  Chayton waved a hand for Nantan to shut up. Nantan did, and he was able to come again. Chayton cleaned him off, held him tight, and dragged him to bed. They put on sweats, and Chayton read to him, a coyote story that made him laugh. They laid together, reading mysteries, until Nantan slept. Ch
ayton took the phone out of his hands, and put it on the nightstand. He put away his own phone, turned out the lights, and held Nantan in his arms until morning.

  Wraith cut up veggies with Skuld in the kitchen. Rota tossed the salad. Mouse had the plate of grilled, marinated, flank steak in hand, and Runner handed her the cherry-red cutting board for meat. Wraith reached for the meat knife, at eye level in front of her on a magnetic metal strip. She handed the knife to Mouse, handle out.

  "Thanks," Mouse said.

  "No problem," said Wraith. "The bread cut?"

  Runner said, "Running the raw garlic over these babies now."

  Wraith diced the cilantro and added it to the tomato, pearl onion, and olive oil mixture. She gave it a toss, and said, "Do you want to load up the bread, or shall I?"

  "I'll do it," said Runner. "Hand me the bowl." She loaded it up and popped it in the oven.

  Mouse took the steaks and the grilled marinated chicken on a plate. Mouse ladled the brown rice out of the rice cooker, and dashed it with soy sauce, vinegar, and sesame seeds.

  "Didn't time this exactly right," said Runner, but what the hell."

  "Let's eat the salad," said Wraith. "We'll goose the meat in the microwave when the bruschetta comes out." They sat down at the glass-topped table.

  Skuld praised the hunt that led to the chicken and cow meat, honoring the animals and plants that led to the meal in the names of the gods. They ate green salad, passing around bottles of honey mustard and balsamic dressings. They ruthlessly talked shop, takedowns and training, plans for the winter carnival to benefit local schools, and how to get a suspect to talk.

  Wraith got the idea over bruschetta and chicken. "We can slip someone in, someone he won't expect. Get him on tape saying he's not crazy, that he's faking."

  "McCann," said Skuld.

  "Her Great White Whale," said Runner.

  "I'm not Ahab," said Wraith.

  "No, but you're about as single-minded," said Mouse.

  "True," said Wraith. "Anyway, he needs someone to be just crazy enough that he thinks the person won't talk. Someone who isn't wearing a wire or camera, but someone who he feels safe to talk to."

  "He's seen us," said Mouse.

  "Not me," said Skuld.

  "Or me," said Rota. "And I can do crazy."

  "Have to get the staff to go along," said Mouse.

  "No problem," said Wraith. "The warden owes me."

  "Why?" asked Skuld.

  "I stopped a riot once."

  "I probably don't want to know," said Runner.

  "I wanna know," said Mouse.

  "Had a stun gun hidden on me, and my expandable baton. Took off half my shirt to get to it." She grinned. "They all turned to look at my breasts, and it distracted them enough that I got the lead guy in the back with the stun gun, and downed the other side's leader with the baton. The guards piled in, and that was that. Got in some trouble for smuggling weapons into a prison, but the warden thinks I'm fucking awesome."

  "How did you get into a men's prison?" asked Rota.

  "Interviewing a suspect outside an interview room," she said. "Ended up doing an interview in a hallway. Things got ugly real fast."

  Mouse looked at Skuld. "You're kind of... a girl," said Mouse. "How you getting into a men's prison?"

  Wraith nodded. "Perfect. Absolutely perfect."

  "What did she just not say?" asked Mouse.

  "A transvestite," said Rota, getting it.

  "A sweet transvestite," said Skuld, singing the theme from that Rocky Horror movie that was famous years ago.

  They all joined in. "From transsexual Transylvania."

  Wraith escorted Skuld in. The cuffs weren't real. The makeup was. Skuld had a fake Adam's apple, as well as hair that looked to be a weave. Skuld had the whole crazy thing going on, shouting out at odd times, staring at the floor another, rushing forward, refusing to move, twisting and pulsing. Wraith escorted Skuld all the way, into the prison psychiatric wing.

  It was noisy, bright and ugly. People were sitting and rocking, chained to the metal chairs where they sat at tables. Some sat at desks in a room where they had group therapy. Each was handcuffed to a chair. Wraith made the sign to ask if she was sure, and Skuld gave a nearly imperceptible nod.

  Skuld was marched to the table next to McCann's table. His eyes seemed to be vacant, but then he darted looks to the right and left. Wraith left without a word or a look back after chaining Skuld to the ring inset in the table.

  Skuld hummed the songs from Rocky Horror, one by one. She kept changing her expression, and nodded her head in a way that was out of sync with the music.

  "What you in for?" asked McCann, after the better part of an hour.

  "They say," said Skuld, stuttering a little, "that I'm sick. I'm a tranny, not sick." She darted her eyes around and licked her lips.

  "What did you do?" asked McCann. "What got you in here?"

  "From LA," said Skuld. "Over-overcrowding. My sister lives here. Gonna take-take me home when I get outta here."

  McCann sighed and stared at the bars on the window. "I shouldn't be here. I'm not sick either."

  "They-they can do what they want to us," said Skuld. "Got no say."

  "I can get out," said McCann. "Change my plea. Got insanity right now. Can go to acute mental distress, or something." He gusted out a sigh.

  Skuld blew out a breath. "I-I drove my mama's car off the road. Onto a sidewalk. Hit Mrs. Baldinger." She cackled. "Old bitch had it coming. Never called-called me by my real name."

  "What's your name?" asked McCann.

  "Di-Diamond," she said. "I grew up Walter. Never liked the damn name." She hummed for about fifteen minutes, then said, "What-what you do? To get in here?"

  "I shot a man in the chest. He identified himself as ATF. Everyone knows they're ATFE now. I'd seen him before, in alleys, with lowlifes. He was with those motorcycle guys. Bastard stepped in front of the guy I had a bead on. Thought, even if he's ATFE, he's with those lowlifes. Heard they were supposedly good, but I didn't get a good look at the backs of their jackets. Figured if you're with scum, you are scum. I had a bead on him, figured, what the fuck. I could say, my word against theirs that he identified himself.”

  Diamond hummed some more, then said, "He died, then. That's sad." She made a sad face, and hummed a dirge.

  "No, last I heard he was alive but circling the drain. I can't get in for homicide. They can't put me in general pop."

  "Pop pop pop," said Diamond, and made popping sounds with her mouth.

  "No, general population." He lowered his voice and leaned in toward Diamond. "I'm a cop. Don't tell anyone." Diamond continued to make popping sounds. "I get into a regular unit, I get killed, or I get solitary, and I go nutso."

  "Already nutso," said Diamond. "I get pills." She made a plane with her hands, made her cuffs clink. "Fly so high."

  "Figured I'd be in a regular mental hospital, not a prison psychiatric wing," said McCann. "ATF must be pissed, or pulled strings, 'cause I shot one of their own."

  Diamond hummed a while, this time the songs from Hairspray. "You can tell your-your lawyer."

  "Already did," said McCann. "I've got to fucking get out of here, but he said either I change my plea or stay here." There was loud banging from down the hall, making both of them jump. "Too fucking loud in here. Quieter in solitary."

  Diamond hummed more songs. "Quiet quiet quiet," she said, and rocked back and forth. "Want to see my boobies? Got them installed before," she waved her hand, "all this."

  McCann grimaced. "I don't know what's worse, that you offered, or that I actually considered it."

  "Fuck fuck fuck," said Diamond. "I like to fuck."

  "Great," said McCann. "Good to know." He put his head in his hands.

  Diamond screamed twice, and then went back to humming. The guards completely ignored her. She gave a silly face and pretended to be in another world.

  "Good God," said McCann. "I don't wanna do it, but I can't stay here. Th
e prison psychiatrist isn't buying it; keeps having me go over and over that night. Talk about what happened, and my feelings." He made talking about feelings sound like torture as he said the word. "He's caught me in some inconsistencies. Bet he's on the phone to ATF after every session." A loud bang from down the hall made both of them jump again.

  "Fuckity fuck fuck," said Diamond, swinging her hips. "Gotta get me some."

  "Don't say that here," said McCann. "Try not to say anything at all."

  Too late, thought Skuld. I've got you now. She sat and hummed for two more hours, but McCann didn't spill any more before a guard came to take him to therapy. Moments after, Wraith came back and got her out of there. The prison psychiatrist and the tape both confirmed McCann was faking. Three days later, he pled guilty, and was convicted of deliberately shooting a fellow officer with the intent to kill. Two days after that, he was transferred to a federal facility in Wisconsin, where no one knew he had been a cop.

  Saber came home to a quiet condo, blessedly free of his parade of visitors. Wraith put him on the couch, gave him the remote, and filled up the tiny living room refrigerator with snacks and drinks. Saber put on a kickboxing tournament.

  "We got McCann to Wisconsin," Wraith said as she walked into the kitchen to retrieve ice cream and two bowls.

  "Well, good for him. He gets to freeze his balls off, and live in fear that someone will figure out he was a cop and use a shiv in the shower." He wiggled a Coke out of the small fridge, and gently closed the door. He popped the top, and groaned as he took the first sip. "Caffeine. Love it."

  "And sugar," said Wraith. "Peanut butter chocolate chunk, chocolate caramel ribbon, or cherry ice?" asked Wraith.

  "Scoop of all but the cherry," he said. "Damn woman, you rock."

  "I seem to remember a demand for ice cream yesterday," she said. "Not that I've had much time, digging myself into El Tigre's organization."

  "You got deeper in than I did," he said. "Fucking trying to show me up."

  "You don't have breasts," she said. "El Tigre's got an eye on me, but hasn't made a move yet."

  She put the bowls of ice cream on the tray tables. "I smell mint," he said.

 

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