Freedom in Chains

by Ann Raina

  "Your last word?"

  "My last word." He swallowed and his anger mellowed. "Don't say that you'll send me back because of this. You can't."

  But his eyes said he was not so sure. She pushed off the counter and crossed the kitchen, avoiding his gaze, riding her anger. He bit his lips, fighting the urge to plead his case. Kyra let him stew in his own juice. He did not ask if she would send him back and she avoided the typical female glance back before he was out of sight. At the door she put on her running shoes and a thin pullover. It was cool outside and she would sweat. A smile broke surface when she heard him move in the kitchen, but she waited in vain for him to comply. She had not thought of him being stubborn. In fact, she had looked forward to running the mile with him. Now she was disappointed. She went for a run.

  * * * *

  She stood on Oliver's front porch, moving restlessly from left to right until he opened the door for her. "Good Lord in Heaven, my dear Kyra, you look marvelous!" Oliver's eyes were wide and wondering.

  "Don't let your eyes pop out of your head." She wanted to be grumpy, but his open admiration ruined the effort. She was delighted that he liked the new black dress with the glittering threads. It covered her thighs modestly and even the décolleté was not meant for men to fall into it. However, the slim cut complimented her well trained shape and the high heels let her legs appear to go on forever. "Please, Oliver, close your mouth and pay attention."

  "I'm all ears. What's left of me. The rest is worshipping the goddess on my porch."

  "Oliver!"

  "Yes, I'm listening."

  "I'll be gone all night. So could you check on Julian? I don't want him to be trapped in case of emergency." She handed him the key to the cuff and to her house.

  "Sure, no problem. I saw you run alone this morning. Didn't you plan to take him with you? Or did you change your mind?"

  "He did not want to run. Not chained to me anyway."

  "Oh." Oliver pouted. "Bad boy. Did you punish him for his misbehavior?"

  "I didn't let him out the whole day."

  "And? Cane, whip, paddle?"

  "No, nothing like that." She blushed.

  "Just ignorance? I don't think this will change his mind."

  "I told you--"

  "Yes, and I heard you. But if you want my opinion, he wanted to challenge you. He did this on purpose and you didn't take the bait."

  "All the better. Safer for me and him."

  "Hmm, I would flog his ass if he asked for it."

  "I know." She kissed him lightly on his bearded cheek and left for her house.

  Julian sat on the mattress near the pillar, the tray with his dinner still untouched beside him. His look was that of a wounded animal, but he got interested seeing her walk by. "That's a stunning outfit, Ms. Jennings."

  "I won't take any compliments from a criminal," she replied, her voice flat, empty.

  "You can take compliments from a man."

  She glanced over her shoulder while searching for her earrings she had left somewhere on the counter. Why tidy up if you can spend useless time with searches? "No need to be you. Oliver will check on you later. I won't be home till morning."

  "Great. But tell him to stay away from me. I promise, I'll hurt him if he gets too close."

  "You won't hurt anyone, Julian. If he comes in it will only be the moment the house burns. And then you'll be glad to see him." Outside a car honked. "I've got to go." She gave up on the earrings, took another pair from a small chest in the living room and hastened to meet her father outside.

  Kyra thought that the promotion must indeed be close and important when her father nervously dropped the tickets in front of the security guard at the entrance. He smiled apologetically and let the tickets be checked. They moved inside. It was hot with so many people in a large house on a summer evening. Boston's high ranking police staff as well as the local politicians and their wives attended the reception and Milton Jennings felt out of place, even in tux and fly.

  "You look splendid," he confided and patted her hand on his forearm. They both greeted people left and right and of some Kyra had a vague memory. "Please, see if you can talk to the chief. Charm him a bit."

  "How close is the promotion?" she whispered in his ear.

  "Close enough to be nervous like hell," he gave back. His mouth twitched.

  "How come?"

  "Don't you think I earn it?" His eyes were small with indignation. "I've worked my ass off the last twenty years."

  "Yes, I know. But?"

  "The mayor and the chief claim the program was their idea. But truth is that I and some of my people did most of the work. The idea may be theirs, but the rest is not."

  "Good Lord, and everyone keeps praising them!" Kyra squeezed her father's arm. "Wow, I'm impressed." They moved through another part of the crowd, keeping the small talk going until they saw Marvin Hammer, the fifty-six year old commissioner. He looked extremely important in his black, heavy decorated uniform of the Boston Police Department. His face matched it with sincere brown eyes, short brown hair with strands of gray mixing at the sides, thick brows and a thin-lipped mouth caught in seriousness. The face was round, the double chin rested on the white collar of his dress shirt and when he laughed his belly shook. Only his size of six foot saved him from looking too overweight. The face was cleanly shaven and Kyra smelled his cologne long before they shook hands.

  Milton introduced his daughter as if the other did not know her and Hammer's eyes widened with surprise. "My God, Kyra Jennings! You look breathtaking!"

  "Thank you." Kyra looked down modestly and wished she were somewhere else.

  "No need to thank me. Really, you look so very mature and ladylike. Grand." He nodded toward the surrounding gentlemen, who uttered their compliments.

  Kyra felt watched and did not like it. She became nervous when one of the men standing close by was introduced as Mayor Damian Cresgood. His tall frame, dark brown hair and fine chiseled chin did not match the picture seen on TV. He was straighter, more serious and more impressive. He was a person you immediately respected. At fifty-four he looked back at a long, successful career. His smile was small and did not reach his eyes and he scrutinized Kyra if she would be worth talking to. It was a most unnerving moment and Kyra was glad when the introduction was over.

  The stress eased when Hammer's wife, Mary, joined the circle. She was pretty in her own way, modest in both clothes and makeup, but a presence to notice nevertheless. "Are you all right, Kyra?" she asked with the genuine concern of a mother. "I heard that you took in a convict yourself. Your father must be very proud of you!"

  "I am," Milton said. "I always knew she had it in her."

  Kyra was close to biting her lips, but would have ruined the lipstick. Saving face was everything tonight and she managed to smile.

  "Tell me, what kind of convict did the prison administration send you?" Hammer lifted his chin and pursed his lips.

  Lecturing mode, Kyra thought. She took a deep breath. "A young man. He was convicted for buying and selling Fidelity. He has no crime record so far, which let him join the program."

  "What do you think of the program in general?" Hammer asked a second faster than Cresgood. The mayor's eyes twitched and, for a second anger showed, but he caught the expression quickly and smiled again pleasantly.

  "I can only compliment you on the idea, sir. Prisons are--at least sometimes--cells of new and ongoing criminal activities. Parting the first offenders from the rest seems a logical solution to keep them from bad influence."

  "I could not have put it better." Hammer was smiling all the way, collecting similar praise from the men around. The mayor looked at Kyra with new, sparking interest, but did not join the conversation. "My young lady, your dad has every reason to be proud of you. Not only for joining the program. How do you get along with the convict in your firm?"

  "Very well, thank you."

  "No complaints? We had that quite often during the last weeks, right?" He looked at
Milton, who nodded dutifully.

  "No, I've had no complaints," Kyra answered not really truthfully, but what would it matter? The chief was not interested in complaints. He wanted the program to be a success as much as her father. They chatted lightly about the procedure and the appliances. Kyra watched the men close to Hammer. At least three of them were bodyguards. Gangs in Boston had tried to bomb Marvin Hammer out of office and failed. He remained behind his desk, did his duty and defied those urging him to give up. The defiance came with a price. Receptions like this were packed with security. Places and halls were searched with dogs trained on explosives and he was always surrounded by heavy manpower.

  "Do you intend to keep him in your firm once the sentence is served?"

  "In fact, he might be called a useful addition to my staff." She gave a small smile. "He's eager, he's doing what he shall do, so…yes, if he wanted to stay I would think about it."

  "Now, listen to this." Hammer was virtually beaming with delight now. His eyes glowed with eagerness. "May I ask you to give a brief statement to the TV people? I'm sure you can convince them better than I can. Please." He sensed her reluctance. "You've got such a charming personality and you'd be the advertisement for more business men and women to come forward and support the program."

  "There had been a run on the convicts," she replied politely, but he waved off the argument.

  "Yes, thousands of people, but most of them were not qualified enough to do the job. See, we can't give a drug dealer to someone running a drugstore. No pun intended." He laughed while he moved her through the throng of people with the elegance and forthrightness of the house owner. The bodyguards did their share to plow a way through the guests. "So most of the time the officers were checking out citizens and found out they couldn't be regarded useful or reliable. You're such a welcome difference. I can't tell you how glad I am you're here tonight." He maneuvered her forward and called for the TV team to come and meet them.

  Cresgood moved with them like glue. If praise was to be collected he would not miss the opportunity. However, while Hammer was beaming with delight, Cresgood remained a cool cucumber. Kyra could not say if she liked him or not. He was too much businessman to be truly liked. She knew those kind of people from experience. If you want to get to the top you have to be cold and let no one know your thoughts. His friendliness seemed pretended and calculated.

  Milton stayed behind and she glanced at him over her shoulder. He smiled at his daughter, very pleased, very eager to push her with looks to keep going. The thought that this was planned hit Kyra the moment her father let out his breath. The press and the TV news team had arrived. She had to turn and face them. The commissioner explained who Kyra was. The mayor put himself into view and gave a short statement, and finally the three of them smiled into the cameras. Kyra thought that she would press charges against her father if anything went wrong tonight.

  "People have to come to terms with those delinquents," Kyra said earnestly. "Society has to grant them a chance. Those allowed to the program are mostly first offenders, people who are worth saving. I don't mean to say that other convicts are lost, but let's face it, the chance to bring someone back to being a useful, working member of society is greater with those who just committed one crime."

  "An interesting statement, Ms. Jennings. And so far, you are content with the convict you were given?"

  "Yes, I am."

  "So you would support the program's continuation?"

  "I would, yes. The program is fairly new and so far a success if you bear in mind that everybody dealing with it has to adjust to the circumstances. I recommend that every business man and woman should join the program. If we want to make our city safer everybody has to take care of it."

  The reporter nodded and turned to the camera to give the rounding up speech for the audience. Kyra was relieved. Her father smiled at her like never before. God, he was proud of her! But the commissioner was faster. "Goodness, Ms. Jennings, that could have been my speech, really! I'm so glad you're here tonight."

  "Thanks to my father, Chief Hammer."

  "Of course, yes." He ogled Jennings senior, who straightened out hearing his name. "I won't forget his contribution to the birth of this program."

  "That's nice to know." Kyra's smile conveyed that she could give statements to the press that would be less charming.

  Hammer understood as he was politician enough to know that supporters could turn to adversaries faster than one could say Jack Robinson. "Thank you for your words. I would not have known how to start."

  "You managed that like a professional." Milton said and briefly embraced his daughter. "I'll be damned if this interview doesn't rouse more interest."

  "I hope so."

  "You're really satisfied with the man they sent you?" Hammer asked.

  She was all innocent, gesture and look. "I am, yes, thanks for your concern."

  "I heard they sent you quite a strong guy."

  "So?"

  "He could mean trouble."

  "He's interested in the program, commissioner, so I don't worry that he cooperates."

  "Did you lie much?" Milton asked when he parked the car at the curb close to her house.

  She turned and set a serious gaze on him in the semidarkness of the street lamps. "Did you?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean, dad, that I want to know from you now if mom really sprained her ankle or if this was just a nice lie to get me to the reception." She held up her hand when he tried to contradict. "It's okay as long as you tell me. I understand the evening was important for you and I think I did all I could."

  "Yes, you did." Milton had the dignity to look down at the space between the seats. "And, yes, I lied. A little. Mom was not feeling well and the moment I called you I thought that you are the much better person to accompany me. You know how mom is. Always nice and kind, but she would spill the beans quicker than anyone else."

  "I always knew you to be clever, dad." She touched his arm and he looked up. "Lie forgiven. No big deal. Tell me the truth next time."

  "And you? How much of your story was a lie?"

  "Not much. He really works okay. I keep him on a short leash and he accepts it."

  "So far. It's only been two weeks and four days."

  "I'm looking forward to the rest." She kissed him on the cheek. "Good night. Best regards to my sick mother."

  "I'll tell her you were the star of the evening."

  He really seemed convinced and Kyra frowned. "I just did what you asked me to do."

  "That's a sentence I'm gonna carve into stone."

  He laughed and laughed the more when she got out of the car, puzzled and wondering how much truth had been told tonight.

  The hall was dark, and she took off her shoes to make as little noise as possible. On bare feet she reached the kitchen. A small light was on and she could see Julian's dark hair spilled over the pillow. He breathed evenly and she stood a moment longer. It was still warm and his right foot had slipped from under the thin blanket. He had slender feet for his tall frame. But more amazing were his hands. They held a promise of tenderness. Long fingers, well shaped nail heads, short cut nails. She felt the urge to take his hand in hers, to feel its warmth and the hidden strength. She had seen him lift boxes and marveled at the strength he possessed. Most weightlifters only look like muscle and strength. She assumed that Julian did more than that. Some sort of sports where you need strength in the right places. Now, asleep, he was a lion resting. She liked the comparison.

  "How did the night go?"

  Kyra jumped. She pressed her back against the counter, inhaling sharply. Her voice was breathless. "You're awake?"

  He turned gracefully on the mattress to rest his forearms on the pillow and his chin on the back of his hands. A strand of hair fell loosely on his forehead. "I was awake the moment your father took off from the curb. Too much gas. He was either very happy or angry with you." He cocked his head. "Happy. You seem to be more at ease than be
fore. Did the night go well?"

  Kyra still tried to swallow her heart thundering in her throat. "I think, I am. It was…it was okay."

  "I hope you danced. I can still smell the perfume you used. It's great, by the way."

  She took a glass from the cabinet and poured water from the fridge. It was cool down her throat. She willed herself to relax. The night had been entertaining indeed, and many men had wanted to dance with her. The formality had wound away with the hours and Kyra's mood had lifted after the interview had been over. Chief Hammer had introduced her to many people and she had found herself in the arms of a young captain from another district. A slender man, quick to smile, entertaining, witty. He was blond and blue-eyed. She liked his way, but not his looks. More's the pity. She had left him on the dance floor without a second thought. "Yes, there was some dancing," she finally said and rinsed the glass. "And I suppose you didn't cause an emergency?"

  "Nope. I ate my dinner and went to bed. I would have washed the dishes, but the chain's too short. I can't reach the sink."

  "That's okay." She took the tray from the floor and remained half crouched for a moment. "Did you really wake from the car?"

  He turned again to face her. "Would you like me to say that I was awake the whole night to wait for you to come home?" He smiled while she looked at him. "No, I slept. Your father got a new car, right? And is not that used to the horsepower?"

  She nodded and stood. "I won't be up early in the morning, so…" She put down the tray beside the sink. He inhaled behind her and she did not want to turn around. "I hope there won't be an emergency." She preferred to leave before he could utter a word. She was not sure if he held back or simply did not know what to say.

  She put her hair in a bun, slipped into her most comfortable dark blue robe and went down to fetch the Sunday paper. Barefoot and reading the headline, she walked into the kitchen to find Julian doing pushups on the tiles. "I hope you don't do that to impress me."

  "I was so stiff from the night I needed some exercise to loosen the tension."

  The words took her breath away. Innocent words, yes, and a sexual statement at the same moment. Oh, she hated him for that. And she hated blushing. "Good. You're gonna do some work today."