by R Weir
“What is this all about?” wondered Reinbach, the armrest squeezed tightly by his hands out of nervousness.
“Respect.”
Reinbach didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean?” He paused to think over what she was implying. “You have my respect. You always have.”
Valerie dismissed his comment with a hand wave. “Really. Even though I made one mistake, you were ready to make me pay a physical toll using your paid torturer. I’ve heard what he does to woman on your orders.”
“It was motivation for you to complete the work.”
Valerie shook her head. She wasn’t buying it. “Bullshit!”
“Come now Valerie. You know I love you. What will it take? More money? Come to Argentina with me and I’ll make you rich. You can be my new number one enforcer.”
“You mean like your lackey Norvin? All he ever got was you treating him like shit. Like all the men you employ.”
Reinbach was confident he could buy her off. “Come on now. Name your price.”
Thinking it over, Valerie’s mind went back to the words still ringing in her head. Words Athena had said during their hand to hand battle.
“Money is nice, but not from you. I wanted respect. I even thought I had it. And then you went and told me if I don’t take care of Athena and the US Marshal, while bringing you Adin, I’d be disciplined. And I just stood there and took it from you. Which was pitiful.” Her eyes closed, her body shaking at her weakness. “I’ve never let a man control me before. Yet there I was scared of you. Lacking the courage to challenge your authority over me. Well that won’t be the case anymore.”
Reinbach frowned. He thrived on people’s fear of him. A power he had to control them. It was what made him stronger than everyone else. Enforcing his will on those working for him. Those all around him. But it appeared he’d lost it with this woman.
“What happened to you, Valerie?” he asked. “I could always count on you. What made you turn on me?”
Valerie smiled. “Guess who I ran into at this same airport. The lovely Athena.”
“Good to hear. From the bruises and blood, I’d say it was a challenging battle. Did you kill her like I asked?”
“We fought and fought. All during the fight, she worked me, not only with her hands and feet, but with her mind. She couldn’t understand why I’d work for a man who would demean people, both men and women. Even threaten the innocence of a young woman who had never done anything bad in her life, all for his own jaded, bruised ego.” She stopped again, making sure she got the words right. “Then she wondered why a woman as strong as I was physically was weak mentally when it came to you. That I’d take crap from a sociopath like yourself. For me to be scared of—to live in fear of you, made no sense to her.”
Reinbach gripped the armrest a little harder, trepidation creeping into his soul, sweat was running down his temples. It would seem he was losing control over this woman and didn’t know how to react. He needed to come up with a way to swing her around. But the use of money and fear was his best tool. And it didn’t appear he had either of those available to leverage in this case.
“Come now Valerie. You know that is all woman’s rights, Me Too Movement nonsense. You know I love and care for you. Let’s run off to Argentina together and build a new start. The two of us can rule the world.”
Valerie laughed out loud. “Brushstroke, you’re funny. Thinking you can seduce me with your bullshit lines. I’d love to see what inspiration you’d derive from this moment and how you’d depict it. The horror in your soul—if you have one—knowing you’re about to die at the hands of a strong woman. The painting would be quite revealing.”
Reinbach’s anger boiled over, his hands nearly tearing off the armrests. He tried to lunge at her from his seat, but she took the gun and stuck him across the face with it, the pain evident. He tried a second time and she punched him in the nose, the blood immediate, his fingers squeezing the nostrils to stem the tide. His anger soared when he saw the red on his hand.
“Look here you bitch,” he screamed, blood spitting from his mouth. “I’ll make sure you get what you have coming to you. The worst torture you’ve ever experienced in your life. And I’ll paint the masterpiece to end all masterpieces depicting you begging for mercy, which will never come.”
Valerie’s smile slithered away. “That was all I needed to hear.”
She stood up from her seat, aiming her gun and fired. First into the right knee, then into the left. Reinbach screamed in pain, horror and agony written on his face. She fired again into each shoulder, cherishing his agonizing expressions. The stomach was next, all with the man pleading for mercy. Much like those he’d tortured in the past. She wanted to let him bleed out right there, a slow painful death and walk away. But she didn’t want to take the chance he’d made a pact with the devil to spare him. She could have shot him in the heart, but she knew it didn’t exist. One final round went into the forehead ending the horrible man’s life.
“It’s done,” she said out loud to herself. “The weaker sex my ass!”
Valerie wiped the gun of her fingerprints, tossing it into the dead man’s lap. Down the stairs and to her bike she went, a long ride to who knows where ahead of her. Wishing to possess the talent to paint the scene she’d left behind. One which would live on in her mind forever.
Chapter 72
Hunter walked with a cane to the front door of the Hawkins house. There for a meeting, called by Jose, likely to wrap up the case, the final payment to be made for the work his team had done. It had been a long couple of weeks, working through the details with the Canadian and United States Authorities. Explaining the carnage found on the other side of the border, took a great deal of doing. Politicians and lawyers working through it all, explaining the reasons and the consequences. It wasn’t easy, but they were soon released, court dates, and the meeting with the magistrate looming to clear up what had happened. In the end, Hunter was certain they would be cleared of any wrongdoing, the death of a hardened criminal and much of his men a positive in the end. Though their presence in the great maple leaf nation was no longer appreciated.
After a slow trod to the door, it was opened by Lance Sheppard, the new head of security for Paige’s company. He stood there with a smile on his face and gun on his hip. Movement improving each day, his crutches gone, a small brace for the knee, the gunshot wound healing. A good man hired full-time to protect the family and the green tech company Paige was heading. A merger likely to happen, final tense negotiations still in progress.
“Good to see you Hunter,” Lance said, his hand extended.
Hunter gripped the hand firmly, a solid respect shared between the two. Hunter thrilled the man would be there to provide protection for the family he’d grown to care about.
“You look like you’ll be doing the two-step soon,” quipped Hunter, knowing the man’s love of country music.
“Any day now. Doctor says I’ll be good as new. How’s your leg?”
“Slowly healing. Though I’m enjoying styling with the cane.”
Lance laughed, leading the way inside. There to greet Hunter was Olivia, Deion, and the dog Pepper. The teenage boy giving him a fist bump, Olivia a long hug, and the dog a wet lap on the face.
“How are you both doing?” asked Hunter, leaning over to rub the dog’s belly.
“Great,” replied Deion. “I’m enjoying this summer more than ever. I’m getting outside and soaking in the sun with my friends.”
“You stopped playing your video games?”
Deion smiled widely. “Not completely. I can’t quit cold turkey.”
Hunter laughed. “And what about you Olivia?”
“Mostly thinking about college,” she replied. “And I’m taking martial arts classes. I’m testing for my yellow belt right now. The instructor says I’m a natural.”
Hunter couldn’t agree more. “There’s no doubt in my mind after what I saw from you. Are you both sleeping okay?”
The two looked at each other and frowned.
“It’s been tough,” answered Deion.
“Reliving the nightmare in our dreams,” added Olivia. “The therapists say it will take time.”
Hunter agreed, happy they’d found a legitimate professional to help them through the whole ordeal, both on their own and as a family.
Therapy was an avenue he should pursue as well but had resisted. He’d been reliving his own nightmares, a few from the past, others born from this last case. The strong male gene overwhelming those thoughts of seeking out assistance as being frail. Soldier on and don’t be a wuss he’d been taught by his stepfather.
“How is your leg doing?” wondered Olivia.
“Sore, but mending. I’ll need the cane a few more weeks. Though I think I look dignified using it.”
“It would be cool if a weapon like a knife blade popped out of it like in the movies,” stated Deion.
Hunter grinned. “Who’s to say it doesn’t. Best I keep those secrets to myself.” He put his finger to his lips.
The two kids laughed at his humor; Hunter happy to see they were doing as well as could be expected. It was much better than the alternative, especially in Olivia’s case.
Jose walked into the room and shook Hunter’s hand, patting him on the shoulder. Leading him back to Paige’s office, Jose left, closing the door behind him.
Paige was sitting at her desk, typing on her notebook computer. She looked beautiful as ever, maybe a couple more lines around her face and mouth, born from the worry of the last couple of months. Her emerald eyes still lit up the room, focusing on Hunter as he took a seat on the other side of her desk. Dressed casually, in tan shorts exposing her smooth legs, a green golf polo revealing her fit upper body, shiny black straight hair a little longer reaching past her shoulders. Hunter couldn’t help admiring this beautiful woman he had once loved long ago. A relationship he never regretted. The one that got away thanks to his stupid failure at embracing commitment. It saddened him to know there would never be another like her, even with the long string of women who’ve been in his bed.
Paige closed her notebook, before leaning back in her chair, hands in her lap, staring at the man before her. Seeing him differently than when she first saw him again several weeks before.
“I’ve sent payment to the account you gave me,” she said. “I included a bonus and we’ll cover all the medical costs for yourself, Athena and Keoki. How are they both doing?”
“Keoki went back home with his wife,” replied Hunter. “He is doing much better. She plans on continuing his healing with the power of her lovemaking.”
Paige smiled, understanding a woman’s love and how therapeutic it can be.
“Athena needed to have surgery to fix her knee,” Hunter continued. “The same knee she hurt back when she played basketball. The ligament damage was severe. She’ll be in a brace and on crutches for a few months. After that lots of physical therapy. But she is tough and will come out of it stronger than ever.”
“And what about your leg?”
Hunter looked down, putting his hand on the thigh. “Hardly hurts at all anymore, except when I walk.” He grinned at his humor. “Should be free of the cane in another week or so, once my strength gets back. I’m doing physical therapy as well. She’s a hell of a lady. Pushes me hard.”
Paige pointed her finger at him. “Try not to seduce her.”
“I’m on my best behavior. But I can’t be faulted if she makes the first move.”
Paige nodded, understanding the attraction women felt for him. She’d seen the man in all his glory and knew he could turn heads with his looks and charm. She’d fallen for it long ago. The man pulling her through a tough time after leaving her husband.
“Funny how Isiah came around and tried to help you,” stated Paige. “I’d have never imagined him doing the right thing.”
Hunter smirked. “Hard to defend his actions in the beginning, being a part in getting Olivia and Deion kidnapped. Born of his ego to try and mend fences with a daughter who didn’t know him. With time he understood what Reinbach was going to do to her. And even as bad a man as Sellers was, especially when you two were together, he couldn’t stand someone else hurting his daughter. Especially in the way Reinbach had planned. He figured she’d been through enough.”
“I still get chills knowing how close she came to being abused by that maniac,” noted Paige, her whole body shaking.
“Olivia is a hell of a woman,” noted Hunter. “Much like her mother.” He paused letting the sincere words sink in. “You should be proud of her and how she handled the ordeal. Standing up and taking aggressive reaction when needed to save me from another bullet. She didn’t hesitate, even if violence wasn’t in her nature. I’ll always be grateful for what she did.”
Knowing her daughter had it in her to defend herself, standing up to an evil man, gave Paige the confidence Olivia could go out into the world on her own and succeed. She’d never let anyone walk over her. A right all people were entitled to.
“I’m grateful for what you and your team did,” stated Paige, who stopped for a second, emotions hitting her. “Losing my children…it’s hard to imagine them being gone…never to return.” Tears ran down her face, as she grabbed a tissue from her desk.
“It was the job,” answered Hunter, though his tone didn’t sell it.
Paige got mad at him. “Bullshit! You went above and beyond the job. You laid it on the line for her. And I suspect…for me. I can’t thank you enough.”
Hunter couldn’t argue. He did do it for Paige and the little child he once held in his hands all those years ago. He’d let them both down once. He couldn’t bear to do it again, especially when the stakes were so high.
“I couldn’t let you down,” admitted Hunter, his words coming from the heart. “I cared for you both. Maybe I still do.”
Paige looked at the man she once loved and hated for a long time after. He was tough and strong but broken in many ways. Although this tortured man elevated to do right by them. It was enough for her to finally forgive him. Give herself closure.
“I hated you for a long time,” revealed Paige, more tears falling. “I healed and found my true love in Jose, who is wonderful husband. But I know—deep in my heart—it could have been you. I truly hope and pray you find your one and only one of these days. You deserve to be happy.”
Paige got up from her chair, coming over to hug the man who had rescued her and her daughter from an abusive husband and father, not only once, but twice. They stayed there and embraced for a long time, until Hunter couldn’t stand it anymore. Breaking away he said his goodbyes, likely never to return to see two of the most important women he’d ever known.
Chapter 73
It had been a couple of months since the battle in Canada, summer in full bloom in Colorado, a hot late in July day on the Colorado Front Range. Hunter was flying in a helicopter, headed for Boulder, up on the hills to a mansion costing more than all the money he hoped to make in a lifetime. The graceful machine gently landing on the raised pad, a golf cart waiting to take him to the house for a meeting with a powerful man. For what reason Hunter had no clue.
The driver with 9mm Ruger on his hip, took the path down a winding hill and then back up again to a side parking zone. The two strolling up a few stone steps to a redwood deck, with a marvelous view of the city stretched out below. At the table in his wheelchair sat Amari Sarr, drinking a dark colored ale from a huge chilled mug. Hunter walked over with a slight limp, his thigh still sore but nearly healed. He pulled up a wrought iron chair, covered with thick flowered cushions. He sat down enjoying the shade of a large ivory vinyl canopy.
“Want a drink?” asked Amari.
“What you’re drinking looks good.”
“Bring an Ithaca Nut Brown Ale for my guest,” requested Amari of the Hispanic servant who stood waiting for the order. “Do you enjoy a good Ale, Hunter?”
“I do. Maybe a little too much at times.”
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br /> “I enjoy sipping mine. Helps to ease the pain I still feel in my lower spine.”
The servant brought the chilled mug with foamy head and sat it in front of Hunter. He took a drink, enjoying the nutty flavor, looking at the black man before him. He was dressed in white polo with Ralph Lauren crest and black pleated slacks. Tight cornrows adorned his skull, and a neatly trimmed mustache and soul patch rested under his lip while a mole graced the side of his right eye.
He sat tall in his wheelchair. A physical, athletic specimen before his injury. His upper torso appearing fit and strong, particularly the biceps which bulged the cotton fabric with little effort.
“What happened, if you don’t mind my asking?” wondered Hunter, pointing at the wheelchair.
“Trauma from a fall off a motorcycle. Spine injury which took away my legs.”
Hunter winced. “I’m sorry. Sounds painful.”
“It was,” replied Amari, his hand twirling the mug as he recalled the fateful moment. “I was chasing down a man wanted for molesting and killing a child. The reckless bastard rammed his car into me during the chase.”
“Did they ever catch him?”
Amari nodded, a grim glare in his eyes. “They did. And he paid dearly with his life. I made certain of that, even if I was disabled.”
Hunter enjoyed another sip of Ale. He might have to see about adding some to his regular drinking rotation.
“Was that the type of work you were doing at the time? Tracking down criminals?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Amari’s hands were resting on the wheels, moving the wheelchair back and forth. A nervous habit he had, enjoying the motion. “I was a hired troubleshooter; what others might call a bounty hunter and enforcer. With the injury I had to take a different career path.”
“As a consultant?” wondered Hunter, his hand enjoying the coolness of the mug. “Or at least that is how Troy Mayfield put it.”
“A simple word for what I do. It’s more complex than what the term implies.”
