You Don't Touch John's Cousin Read online

Page 4


  She told him, “Unscrew the lights outside so they don’t turn on and don’t worry, I won’t let anyone past me.”

  John opened the door and turned back smiling, “I’m not worried about you, I’m worried if they get by me, I won’t get my chance for my pound of flesh!”

  She shrugged, “Why don’t I just keep kicking them out to the street until your lazy ass shows up?”

  He paused after stepping out of the door thinking for a second, “Ok, that will work.” He winked and shut the door.

  Bethany Anne flexed and bent backwards until she heard her back pop. She put a jacket on so the kids wouldn’t see the pistols if they got up and came in here. She left her sword over by the corner. Rolling her neck, she took a position standing in the middle of the floor and slowly closed her eyes.

  ADAM, have you tracked down the asshole I had questions about?

  >>Yes.
  Well, don’t make me ask twenty questions, what do you have on him?”

  >>Well, his original name is Ronald Warden…
  What the HELL? Really?

  >>Of course, really. Why would I provide a false response?
  Give it time, she thought, I’ll bring you to the dark side.

  It was a rhetorical question, but let’s drop that for now. Are you saying that this creep is not even the real guy Cheryl Lynn thought she married?

  >>That is correct. He changed his name and age when entering the University. I have located the bank accounts for his present and previous identities. He has multiple businesses run through both and seems to only use his original identity a couple of times a month. He goes over to Fort Worth when he does any banking in his original identity.
  How do you know that?

  >>Cross checking credit card receipts for purchases near time frames when Mark would access his bank accounts in person.
  How much money does he have access to at this time?

  >>He has less than thirty-seven thousand under his original identity. He has in excess of half a million in cash and over three million in securities under his Mark identity.
  What a fucking creep. Bethany Anne mused to herself taking in the apartment. That wealthy and he has his children live like this.

  ADAM, would you please see what it would take to setup a legal representative to fight for sole custody at this time? Confirm any and all illegal or unethical actions you can locate through the records and prepare them for delivery to the legal representative. Further, I want to know if Mark ever communicated with criminals or suspected criminals. Anything that would show his character has harmful tendencies that we can use against him should he fight Cheryl Lynn in court.

  >>What about his psychological report describing his narcissistic issues which result in a lack of psychological awareness, difficulty with any empathy for others and a hypersensitivity to insults or imagined insults?
  I’m not sure I want to know how you got that information, but that is a hell of a start. Yes, I want all of that too!

  CHAPTER SIX

  The old white van pulled up two blocks away from Cheryl Lynn’s apartment complex.

  “Ok, this is a B&E. Make sure we break the door’s lock in an obvious manner. If you find anything of value, take it. Make sure we tear apart the place so it’s obvious we were trying to find stuff. Everyone got your gloves?”

  “What about the kids?” Rafael asked. Family was important to him and while he had taken the money for the woman, and she had beat him over the head with those damn cans, he wouldn’t be able to look his Madre in the eye if he hurt a child.

  “I know you aren’t capable of that so just stay out of it. If they cower, then I’ll just slap them so I can tell Mark we roughed them up a little. It will be good for them to learn a little of the street. They can’t buy that kind of education without getting a lot worse done to them than we will.”

  Rafael nodded. A street education would be good for them, perhaps. It mollified his sense of guilt.

  “Let’s go.” Ben, his weight belying the fact he was a pretty fast runner, got out of the driver’s side. Rafael and Wayne exited the side door. The front passenger door had been stuck and unable to open for over a year. Now, that seat was the storage place for trash often enough.

  Wayne grumped, “All I’m saying is watch out for the teeth. She’s like one of those damned honey badgers. First chance I get I’m taking this bat and giving her a love tap. I’m probably going to have to get a rabies shot or some shit like that.”

  Ben came around the front of the van, “Just don’t hit too hard. Mark isn’t paying enough for us to off her.”

  Wayne handed the bat over to Rafael, “You better take this, I’ll just slug her. I might get too rambunctious with that thing.”

  Rafael accepted the bat without saying anything.

  The three men crossed the street, the early morning quiet lay across the area. You could hear a train off in the distance, the air horn blaring as it came through intersections.

  Wayne looked in that direction, “I thought trains didn’t run at night?”

  Rafael answered, “Freight do, they run by my Aunt’s house all the time. Rent’s cheap in that area for a reason.”

  They turned to go up the sidewalk that would take them to the two doors. The one to the right was their mark, the one to the left belonged to someone else. There was a set of stairs that went up a level. The three guys put on their gloves. Ben spoke in low tones, “Remember, make this fast. We want to get in, do our job and then get out. The bitch can only crawl if we want the rest of our money.”

  Ben started to walk up towards the door when a deep voice sounded behind them, “Should have kept your money and been happy, fellas. Your lives aren’t worth shit, now.”

  Ben turned to see an ox standing behind Rafael. Wayne had moved to the side and slipped his hand into his pocket. Ben spoke, “Listen stranger, we ain’t here for you. The bastard that’s back in this apartment roughed up my little girl. We are just here to make sure the molester isn’t going to do that to anyone else, comprende?”

  Wayne thought that was one hell of a lie to tell so quick.

  The ‘ox’ spoke, “Guys, you have two choices. You can mess with me right here, or you can try to go through that door and your lives will be forfeit. The person that’s in there waiting for you won’t think twice about taking your lives.”

  Ox flexed his shoulders, “What you aren’t going to do, any of you, is get out of here without an ass-whipping your fathers or mothers should have given you years ago.” He paused, “So, what’s it going to be? Ass whipping with me, or are you going to chance door number two?”

  Wayne whipped out his pistol. It was a tiny .22, but it would put enough hurt in this ass that they could possibly get their job done and get out of here. He shot as quick as possible, firing off three rounds before it clicked empty.

  Wayne didn’t have much money to spend for bullets. He’d never had any use for the gun.

  The ‘Ox’ looked down at the three tiny copper splotches on his shirt that gleamed faintly in the tiny amount of light that reached street level.

  “Seriously?” ‘Ox’ man looked back up at Wayne. “Brother, you need to do something besides pull a Saturday night special that is only going to piss me off.”

  There was a tiny ‘snick’ behind him. Ben turned to look into the darkness where the doors were, but couldn’t see anything. Ben turned back to hear the ‘Ox’ tell them, “Well, that’s done it. You guys are fucked now.”

  Rafael decided to try taking Ox out. He put out his left foot then pulled the bat around in an overhead arc trying to slam it on the ox’s head. A loud ‘slap’ was heard and then Rafael was left staring as the bat was caught in the guy’s hand, a foot above his head.

  Rafael’s hand’s hurt like hell, like when you hit a pole or the ground with a bat, the reverberations reaching through the bat.

  Ox took the bat and quick as a thought popped Rafael on the head, he slumped to the ground. John tossed the bat over by the comatose Rafael, who now had blood meandering down his face from a gash caused by the bat.

  Ox looked back at the two of them. “That’s one down.”

  “Fuck this!” Wayne pulled a knife out and then started weaving it in front of him, angling for a way to cut this fucker. Make ‘em bleed and see a need to let them go, was his thought.

  Ben started to step backwards, keeping Ox in front of him. The Ox glanced in his direction and told him, “I wouldn’t do that.” He then returned his attention to Wayne.

  Ben watched as Wayne flicked out quick as a viper to slice the guy, but grunted in pain when his wrist was caught, then a short scream when his wrist was turned ninety degrees, breaking it. The man popped Wayne in his temple with a closed fist.

  Wayne went down.

  Ben turned to run into the apartment. Certainly if he held a hostage then this freak would at least let him go.

  He made it within ten feet of the apartment door when two red eyes started glowing in the inky blackness. Then Ben could make out the faint glimmer of fangs.

  The darkness was pierced with the blood-curdling scream of a man who had seen his demons and could do nothing as he fell headlong into their embrace.

  —

  Thirty minutes later Bethany Anne grumped, “All I’m saying, is that the Etheric is a pretty clean solution for trash.” She got in the front passenger seat of the Jeep and slammed the door.

  John stuffed the bag into the back of the Jeep. He got in the front. Ten minutes before, he had made sure Cheryl Lynn, Tina and Todd had been picked up by a limousine that would drive them to a hotel to let them get cleaned up and fed. Then, the limo would pick them up at nine AM to take them to the airport.

  Before that, Cheryl Lynn had come out with her little knife after she heard the scream. She had stood on the porch watching Bethany Anne and her cousin in a whispered but heated argument about what to do with the three men that had attacked her earlier that night.

  Unable to believe her ears, she took a few steps forward to get close enough to hear John’s boss say, “Those fuckers deserve it. No lawyers, no muss, no fuss!”

  John replied, “I think you need a little time with normal experiences BA, your answer to everything is like your reading from Michael’s book of punishments!”

  Cheryl Lynn almost snickered when the woman stomped her foot down in frustration.

  Then the woman pointed a finger right at her cousin’s face. “Fine, but if those fuckers hurt anyone else I will hunt them down and toss their ass’s straight in, you got me John? ADAM will be watching and he won’t forget!”

  John nodded, “I’ll get the ID, but you will need to verify they aren’t fake.”

  Bethany Anne had nodded agreement and then turned to take in Cheryl Lynn. She didn’t laugh at her little knife or coddle her. Her voice turned matter of fact and pointed to the group of men, “These the assholes from earlier?”

  Cheryl Lynn walked over, “Yes.” She pointed to the fattest one there. “He’s the one I kicked in the ‘nads.” She pointed to the one who had a broken wrist, “He’s the one that gave me this wonderful eye.”

  Bethany Anne looked like she was considering kicking the guy in the ‘nads herself. “Ok. John says we have to have some option other than ‘kill them all and let God sort them out.’” Cheryl Lynn started to smile but then stopped when she realized this Bethany Anne lady wasn’t joking.

  Bethany Anne had been eyeing the three men with unconcealed disgust. “John, how about we find out who they are, if they have records then we will notify the authorities and if not … what?” She looked over sweetly at John who rolled his eyes.

  At his emphatic “No!” Her look became disgusted again. That was when Cheryl Lynn realized the two were playing.

  “Would you really kill them?” Cheryl Lynn realized with a start that she had asked that question out loud.

  Bethany Anne looked up at her, “If you want to find out how deep the rabbit hole goes Alice, I’ll answer you. But you need to think on it, first.”

  Cheryl Lynn started believing John’s comment that she might have saved him more often than he saved her.

  Just who the hell was this woman?

  What the hell was this woman?

  —

  John turned onto the 35 Freeway heading North. “Thank you, boss.”

  “For what?”

  “Letting Cheryl Lynn work up at the base.”

  Bethany Anne shrugged, “Her little girl might be a budding genius, who knows about her young son. He’s in the playing video game stage. If she isn’t careful, that can ruin a guy’s desire to move ahead in life.”

  “I plan on working with him.”

  Bethany Anne looked over, “Another ‘Pete’ project John?”

  He shrugged, “Maybe if I get involved earlier, it won’t take that much effort.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed, “or maybe he just needs the opportunity and he will jump at it. You can’t tell until you take away the mental-sugar and give him a chance to find other passions. Won’t matter, he’s going to be busy as hell at the base.”

  “What made you willing to take her on as an aide to you?”

  Bethany Anne mused, “Did you see her when she came out the front door?”

  He answered, “No, a few seconds after, why?”

  “She was scared, John. Terrified, but she came out to help. She wasn’t going to let us go down without getting involved.” She turned to look into the night as they drove towards Mark’s house.

  “Besides,” she continued, “she’s family and we don’t let family down if they are fighting like hell to do the right thing.”

  John reached up and surreptitiously wiped at his eyes.

  He fucking loved his boss. She was the older sister he never had, but had always needed.

  It took them fifteen minutes more to arrive on Mark’s street. John put the Jeep in park. “How do you want to handle this?”

  She unclipped her seat belt, “I’ve got this. This fucker isn’t going to bother Cheryl Lynn again.” She waited just that amount to let John think he would need to ask his question before she continued, “He won’t die. I’ll even leave him alive in bed.”

  She turned to look at John, who could see the beginning of the glow start in her eyes, “But if you think I’m not going to scare the ever-living-hell out of him, well you just don’t know me too well.” She stepped out of the Jeep and headed towards the two story modernist concrete home.

  “No,” John said to the empty Jeep, “I was rather counting on that.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Mark woke up on his stomach. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t tell what it was. He lifted his head up off of his pillow and reached over.

  No one was there. Yeah, that’s right. He had left Toni back at the hotel this morning. No, it was Tammy yesterday morning.

  Whatever.

  “Hello Mark.”

  Mark turned quickly to look the other way. There was a person in the dark, sitting on his chair. He couldn’t make out her face too well. It was definitely a ‘her’.

 
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