A Wicked Beginning (26 page)

“What do you mean, stop it?” Marilyn snarled.

“I mean stop it. I don’t want to play this way, with you in control all the time.”

“Well, then I’m not going to play,” Marilyn huffed.

“Well, then don’t,” Jayze replied in a matching huff.

Marilyn’s jaw dropped. She sat in Jayze lap, speechless. The two women sat staring at one another, not knowing what to say. Finally, Marilyn pushed herself off of the chair. She grabbed the arms of the chair, leaned over, and got in Jayze face. “Are you saying that you don’t want to be with me?” she said angrily, small sprays of spit landing on Jayze’ cheeks.

Jayze put her hands on Marilyn’s chest and pushed her away. She felt uncharacteristically bold. “You’re a little too close, Marilyn. No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying I want it to be a bit more reciprocal.”

“Reciprocal, how?” Marilyn asked, pushing against Jayze’ outstretched arms.

“Reciprocal like you not trying to overpower me all the time like you’re doing right now. Back away from me, my arms can’t hold much longer.”

Marilyn stood up, glaring ferociously. “Oooh, now that you’ve got a contract, you think you are better than me. Is that it?”

Jayze stood up to face her. She was shorter by a couple of inches, but she held her ground. “No, more like I’m done being treated like shit and coddling you and your snarky moods all the time.”

Marilyn’s voice took on a shrill pitch. “My snarky moods? My snarky moods?” Marilyn looked like a volcano about to blow. She hauled back her hand as if to slap Jayze.

Jayze eyes flipped over to the lynx and back. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she growled at Marilyn.

The two stood poised like statues. Then, Marilyn dropped her hand and stomped out of the studio. When the door had slammed shut, Jayze inhaled a long breath. She was shaky but felt powerful…exultant, even. She walked over and picked up her iPhone off of the corner table. When Mano picked up on the other end, she said, “Mano, can I drop by? I just had an experience you wouldn’t believe. Yeah, it’s this darn lynx piece. I think it’s alive.” She laughed at Mano’s response. “Okay, buddy, I’ll be there in a few.” Hanging up the phone she uttered a “Thank you” to the clay beast and stepped out of the studio, locking the door firmly behind her.

Chapter 25 – Cam

When Cam walked in the door where Mark Myers worked, he saw Lightning Rod sitting in the foyer, filling out papers. A guy who must have been Mark Myers, looked up and put up a finger to Cam, indicating he’d be with him in a second. Cam nodded. “Hey, Lightning Rod, what are you doing here?” He reached out to shake the young man’s hand.

Lightning Rod stood up and took Cam’s hand. A likeable young man, he was almost always smiling. “Oh, my mom got me an internship working with Mr. Myers. I’m going to be going on the next Wilderness Camp. I’m getting credit for a college course I am taking.”

Cam brightened. He really liked Lightning Rod. “Are you? That’s great. I’m going to be on that same trip.”

“Hey, that will be good, Cam. Don’t think I can keep the star dreamling off of you by myself though.” He shook his head and frowned. “That was some brutal energy.”

Cam shuddered. “I’ll say. It was sick, that’s for sure.”

“You alright? You look really good. I didn’t think you’d look so hot after what you went through.”

“Yeah, I’m doing fine, thanks for asking. Got back together with my girlfriend and things are going well.”

Lightning Rod smiled. “Yeah, I imagine that can take the sting off the dreamling stuff, huh? I just started dating a girl, too.”

“How’s that going?” Cam asked.

“Not too well. I think she wants me to be her little project. Like I’m a fixer upper instead of a move right in.” He laughed again. “Sorry for the real estate terms; my mom just started selling houses.”

“That’s a tough market to be in right now. How’s she doing?”

“Oh, she’s sold a house or two. She’s doing alright. It’s slow though.”

“I imagine. Times are tough right now.” Cam looked up to see Mark waving him in. “Well, it’s good to see you, Lightning Rod. I’ll see you up in the mountains – again.”

“Yeah, see you, Cam.”

“Let’s not have it be so dramatic this time.”

“Yeah, let’s not. I don’t think the college will give me extra credit for helping a guy fend off a star dreamling.” He chuckled. “I could try, though. It could maybe be one of those extra-curricular projects.”

“Huh,” said Cam. “You’re a funny guy.”

“I can’t help it. My mom said I had a joke caught in my throat when I was born and that I keep letting it out, but it keeps getting stuck again. She’s funny, my mom.”

“Sounds like it. Well, see you.”

“Bye, Cam.”

Cam walked into Mark Myers office and sat down in front of his desk.

Mark stood up and extended his hand. “Cam? I’m Mark.” Then he walked around his desk and closed the door to the office. He looked of Hispanic descent, medium build, and wiry body type. His warm chocolate eyes were creased with laugh lines, and his hair was dusted with gray. He must’ve been in his 40s or early 50s.

As he settled back at his desk, Cam thought that he liked the guy already. He seemed friendly, affable, and energetic –
kind of like a terrier
, Cam thought with a smile.

Mark looked up at him. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from James. We’re glad to have you be a part of the program.”

“Thanks,” Cam replied.

“We’re going to be going out on the troubled teen program – it’s called Divert. James thought that would be a good fit for you. Divert helps kids get a leg up with their problems. Most of the kids come from a bad environment at home; some come from single parent homes where the parent is trying, but just can’t manage everything. Some are dabbling in drugs and drinking. Most all are at a crossroads – it’s either one path or the other, and we prefer to send them down a more productive path.”

“How do the kids get chosen for this camp?” Cam asked. “I worked with men who were court-ordered to participate, and I can’t say the motivation to change was there.”

“Yeah, I know about those programs, having participated in them myself.”

Cam’s eyebrows shot up. “You mean you were in one of those groups?”

“Yup, I sure was. I’m a recovering asshole. I used to be a son of a bitch. My first wife left me, thank the stars. I’m glad she got away. Who knows what I would have done?” Mark straightened some papers on his desk. “That was about 15 or so years ago.”

“What caused you to change, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“I don’t mind at all. I’m happy to share my story with people. I had a child with my first wife. When the boy turned 12, he saw me hit his mother. I’d always managed to keep my violent nature locked in the bedroom until that point. My behavior, however, had started to worsen and leak out all over the place. One night, I’d had one drink too many and hauled off and slapped Simone – that was her name – I slapped her in the kitchen. That was the last straw for her. She’d had enough of my abuse. She grabbed Bobby and left, right then and there. The look in his eyes – the betrayal, hurt, and rage – I’ll never forget that look.” He picked up the pile of papers that he had straightened, tapped them on the desk and put them back down. “Those eyes haunt me to this day.”

A silence filled the room as neither man knew what to say next. Finally, Cam asked, “What happened then?”

“Well, it would have been a good story if I’d changed right then and there, but I didn’t. It was the start of change, though. We got divorced. It was an ugly, heated battle with all my garbage being flung around in court. I deserved every bit of it. I was issued a court order to go to groups for abusers, and I went. I really wanted to see my kid again. I figured I’d blown it where Simone was concerned and wished her well. But Bobby…” His voice trailed off, and he looked at a picture frame propped in the corner of his desk.

“Did you and him ever…you know…connect again? In a good way, I mean?”

“We did actually. I didn’t see him for five years. I sent him birthday cards, money, I tried to talk to him over the phone, but he wanted nothing to do with me. Can’t say I blame him. But then, out of the blue one day, I got a call. He wanted to have coffee with me. We met, and he told me he forgave me and wanted to know me. That was the best day of my life.”

“So do you have a good relationship today?” Cam asked. He was deeply moved by Mark’s story.

“Well, that’s hard to say. I talk to him every day, but he’s been dead about six years now.” Mark reached up and picked up the framed photo. He held it out to Cam. “That’s my boy, that’s Bobby graduating from college.”

Cam looked at the bright young man grinning out at him. “He’s a good looking young man,” Cam said. “What happened?”

“AIDS. AIDS happened. Turns out he was gay. By the time he told me, I didn’t care a bit. All I wanted was to have him back in my life in whatever way he was willing. We managed to patch together a good relationship before he died. I call him my angel of mercy.”

Cam pushed back his hair with his hand. That story tugged at him, hard. His heart clenched and his eyes wanted to give up water, but he did not let them. He felt Mark’s eyes on him, and he looked over at the man. “I don’t know what to say, Mark. That’s quite a story.”

“Well, don’t feel sorry for me, whatever you do. I got off lucky. I stopped abusing women, stopped hating myself; have a civil relationship with the woman who should have loathed me and had a great relationship with my son until he died. Now my partner and I are advocates for teens in trouble.”

“So you got married again?”

Mark laughed. “Not quite. It’s not yet legal here in Seattle.”

Cam looked confused. “What do you mean?”

“I’m gay, Cam. That was one of the reasons I was so angry – I was not allowing myself to be myself. My son…my Bobby…showed me the way.” He picked up a picture of a portly man with a short beard. “This is Austin, my partner of 12 years. He has a couple of kids from his confused era so I still have kids in my life. A couple of them have kids of their own. So I’m a grandpa of sorts.” He pointed to all the pictures of children and adults on the back bookshelf. “I’ve got a good life. No complaints here. But let’s talk about the program, shall we? You didn’t come in here to listen to my life story.”

“No, I didn’t, but I’m glad you told me, Mark. That’s a powerful story. It gives me hope. I’m working on my own stuff, and it’s good to hear from someone such as you. I respect that.”

Mark smiled. “That’s why I tell the story, to tell you the truth. It helps me winnow out the wheat from the chaff.”

Cam let out a guffaw. “Did I pass?”

“You did, actually. I think you’re bona fide, top grade wheat, Cam.” Mark smiled again. “So now…the program.”

For the next 45 minutes, Cam and Mark talked about the “this and that” of Program Divert. By the time Cam left, he was amped about the program. James was right; it
did
feel like a good fit. The second he walked out onto the sidewalk he called Chér. “Hey, babe,” he said excitedly. “You were right. This was not only grounding, but I’m jazzed…ready to go. Also, ready to see you again.” God, he could taste her, feel her, as if she were right here. Was this part of the ka’kriyayaga? He didn’t know, but it sure felt electric. “What did you say?” His eyebrows shot up at the sexy suggestion she had just made. He had an instant hard on. “Wait a minute; let me get in the car.” He propped the phone between his shoulder and his jaw, reached in his pocket for the keys, and unlocked the door. Climbing in, he turned the phone on speaker. “Now what did you say you want to do to me?” He listened with a big goofy grin on his face. “Damn, baby, where is this coming from?” He listened again then laughed. “Holy shit, Chér, you are definitely meek no more.” His cock was beginning to throb. “I can’t really take care of this right now, babe. I’ve got to get over to James’ office.” He paused, intent on what she was saying. Then he spluttered, “Oh, you wicked little vixen. Just you wait. I’ve got a few ideas of my own. But right now I’ve got to deal with traffic, you sweet thing, you. I will see you later tonight. Don’t have anything on when I get there.” Hanging up the phone, he felt great. Better than great…his life was getting better all the time. He just hoped he could figure out this star dreamling shit and get on with it. He would find a way. He wanted to experience this life with Chérie for a long, long time.

Chapter 26 – Angela

Angela let out her client – the 4
^th
one today – and closed the door to her office. She really liked this office space. It was small, cozy, and well-furnished with gleaming Cherry wood furniture and tasteful art on the walls. The back of the office opened onto a small, private patio with a high fence. Ferns and flowers were planted around the edges of the curved concrete slap which held a small wrought iron table and chair. There were other offices next to hers, but none of them had a patio space. The previous lessor was no doubt a chain smoker such as she was and built the private area to manage his or her addiction. That was her take on the space, at least.

She removed the clasp from her hair, which had been kept pulled back all day. She liked to keep a proper decorum about her when she counseled. Shaking out her hair, she realized that she needed a cigarette. She pulled one out of her purse and stepped out onto the small patio. There was an ashtray filled to overflowing with cigarette butts on the tiny table which she had better clean up or she was going to go mad. She’d been so busy, she hadn’t taken the time to tidy up. Laying the cigarette on the table, she walked back into the office, pulled open a side drawer of her desk, and removed a foil lined baggy and moist wipe. Walking back outside, she dumped the contents of the ashtray into the baggy. Ugh. Had she really smoked all those today? She was going to have to cut back. She wiped out the ashtray with the towelette, placed it inside the baggy, and sealed the contents shut. She placed the baggy under the table, out of her sight, and picked up the unlit cigarette. Placing it in her mouth, she thought of him.