Avenging Alex (9 page)

Read Avenging Alex Online

Authors: Lewis Ericson

Tags: #Fiction, #African American, #General, #Urban

BOOK: Avenging Alex
6Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
 
 
“I wanna play,” squealed the freckled tyke, pulling on her father's pant leg.
“Hang on, sweet pea. I'm just about to beat your brother,” John replied, looking away from the screen.
“Score! I won!” John Michael yelled, relishing his father's defeat.
John slapped his forehead and fell back on the overstuffed sofa, feigning disappointment of his Wii tennis skills. He surrendered the game controller to his daughter under his son's protest.
“She's too little to play.”
“John Michael, you have to give your sister equal time, otherwise, how is she going to get as good as you and beat her old man?”
The boy frowned.
“C'mon now, you just beat me with one arm in a cast. I tell you what, if you can beat your sister I'll give you five dollars.”
Chloe perked up. “Can I have five dollars too, Daddy?”
John tickled her. “I'll give you ten if you beat your brother.”
John Michael rose to the challenge and pressed the button on the controller to start another game. John lifted his daughter in his lap and guided her arms and hands into making a volley. The girl jumped up and down cheering as if she'd scored on her own.
“Hey, that's no fair.”
John laughed. “I didn't say I was going to make winning easy for you.”
Lorraine entered the family room carrying an armload of packages. Chloe forgot all about her game and scurried to see if there was anything for her.
“John Michael, do you really think you should be playing that game?”
“He's all right, Lorraine. He's using his good arm.”
She laid her packages down. “John, can I talk to you before you go running off?”
John shot her a side-glance and complied. “John Michael, why don't you take your sister upstairs so your mom and I can talk?”
“But we haven't finished the game,” John Michael objected.
John reached into his wallet, extracted five single bills and handed them to his son. “You won.”
“What about me?” Chloe pouted.
John fished out another single and gave it to his daughter. “You won too.”
The boy pocketed the cash and teased his sister as they went up the stairs about the fact that he had more money than she did.
Lorraine waited until they had cleared the landing. “Have you been here long?”
“We've been home about an hour. After we left the movies we went for pizza.”
She grimaced. “Pizza? John, you know I don't like them filling up on junk food. Now, they're not going to want to go to Mom and Dad's later for dinner. I wish you had checked with me first.”
“I didn't realize I needed to run my itinerary by you when it came to spending time with my kids.”
“That's not what I meant and you know it. Mom and Dad asked about you.”
“I can't imagine that.”
“Believe it or not, they're not happy about this separation.”
“They do know it was your idea, right?”
Lorraine pretended not to hear him.
John pressed on. “Considering how Liam felt about the wedding I would think he'd be dancing an Irish jig that we're not together.”
“That's not true. Dad knows how I feel about you, he always has. All he wants is for me to be happy. And you know that Mom wants us back together even if your mother doesn't.”
John picked up his jacket from the arm of the sofa and headed toward the living room. Lorraine followed.
“Why don't you come to dinner with us? I know John Michael and Chloe would really love it if you did. We all had such a good time the night of the recital that I thought we could maybe . . .” She pressed into him and tried to kiss him again.
He moved away. “It's not gonna happen again, Lorraine. And I'm not going to sit around the table sharing a meal with your parents while everybody pretends that we're all just one big happy family.”
“The way you kissed me. The way you responded to my touch. I know you still have feelings for me.”
“I still care about you, Lorraine.”
“You just can't admit it to yourself, can you, John?”
“Admit what?”
“That you still love me.”
John grabbed his keys from the credenza in the foyer and started to the door.
“Is Adriane waiting for you?”
He halted, but didn't turn back to her. “What?”
“She is the woman you're ‘protecting,' isn't she?”
“You know I can't talk about—”
“Yeah, I know. I know. You can't talk about your cases.”
“Lorraine—”
“Are you sleeping with her?”
“I gotta go.”
“Is she a criminal or a witness? Is she the first one? Have there been others? You've become so adept at the subterfuge . . . this dual identity. Running off in the middle of the night to come to someone else's aid. Is it any wonder why I did what I did? At the end of the day there wasn't any of you left for your family because you gave so much away. I know you have other cases. Why is this one so special?”
John didn't answer.
Lorraine dug in. “Do you know how much trouble you could be in if someone were to find out about what you're doing?”
Thinking about what his stepfather had said to him John spun around and charged back into the room. “You listen to me. I don't know what kind of bull Caren Wallace has filled your head with, but there is absolutely nothing going on for you to worry about, you got that?” The sting of the lie burned on his tongue almost as quickly as it came out of his mouth.
“Don't worry, John. I don't have any intention of soiling your valued reputation or blowing your ‘case.' Go ahead. You don't want to keep your girlfriend waiting.”
John inhaled deeply and blew his breath out slowly. “You know what, I was going to wait to have this discussion with you. But maybe it's time we start talking about making this separation permanent.”
Lorraine scoffed. “You want a divorce.”
“Clearly we can't keep going in circles like this.” John took a few steps away from her and lowered his head. “You can't be surprised. It's been a long time coming.”
Lorraine closed her eyes to keep tears that were forming from falling. “When I saw her at the boutique today I wasn't sure if there was really anything between you. But I can see it in your eyes. I hear it in your tone. The way you reacted when I called her your girlfriend. I wish I had told her what we did the other night. I wish I had told her that I wasn't just going to lie down and let her take you from me.”
“Take me,” John sneered. “I'm not a toy, Lorraine, that you pull out and play with at will. Yeah, I screwed up. I worked too much, too long, but that didn't give you the right to go off and fuck somebody else. You just want me to forget about that, huh? Act like everything is the way it used to be? That is what you want, isn't it?”
Despite Lorraine's resolve, silent, bitter tears streamed down her face. She stood there holding herself together and watched helplessly as John tore out of the house.
 
 
John picked Alex up from work and they drove into Los Angeles. Initially she wondered why he was so sullen, but surmised that his disposition had to do with something Lorraine may have said about her. She didn't ask, and he didn't bring it up. Whether he was separated or not what they were doing had all the earmarks of a tawdry affair. She was allowing herself to become exactly what she swore she didn't want to be. She wanted to tell him to take her back to her car, but the words dissipated as quickly as they formed on her lips. He reached over, took her hand, and kissed it. The gesture informed her that his mood was lightening and the consequences be damned.
“Are you sure your mother doesn't mind us spending the night out?”
“She encouraged it. Besides, I think she's preparing a home-cooked meal for Ade.”
“Are you still nervous about him being with her?”
“I'm trying to be happy for her. She deserves someone after all she gave up for me.”
“And what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don't you deserve someone special too?”
“Do you mean you, Inspector?”
Seconds ticked by in silence until John spoke again. “I lied to Lorraine. She accused me of sleeping with you. A week ago that would've been true, even though I thought about it . . . a lot. I told her that we weren't.”
“So, now you feel guilty for lying?”
“I just didn't want her causing any problems.”
“For you?”
“For either of us.”
“I'm not afraid of her,” Alex declared.
John chuckled. “No, I didn't think that you would be.”
More silence.
“John, is there something else bothering you?”
“I kissed her.” He glanced over to see that Alex was staring straight ahead, emotionless. “We were celebrating my daughter's dance recital and I guess I just got caught up.”
“Caught up? What happened to ‘I can't stop thinking about you, Alex. You got to me. I want you so bad'?” She cut her eyes toward him and pulled her hand away. “Did you fuck her?”
John exhaled loudly and his jaws tightened.
“Oh, I'm sorry,” Alex sneered. “That was so crass and unladylike. Let me put it another way, did you make love to your wife? Hell, I just realized how ridiculous that sounded. I'm asking you if you slept with your own wife.”
“Alex—”
“Just forget I asked.”
John pressed on. “No. I didn't sleep with her. The kiss . . . it was just an impulse.”
“Like being with me?”
“You are not an impulse.”
“Then what am I, John? I don't think we ever clearly defined this . . . this . . . whatever it is.”
John sighed. “Do you want me to take you home?”
She didn't respond.
He pulled the truck over to the curb and turned off the ignition. “I made a mistake. I'm sorry. There were some feelings . . . some issues. The point is whatever I had with Lorraine is over. I knew that the moment we kissed. You were the one I was thinking about.”
“You were kissing her and thinking about me? How charming,” Alex cracked. “When you're with me are you thinking about her?”
“What the hell kind of question is that?”
“One that deserves an answer.”
“Baby, I only want to be with you. I told you about the kiss because I didn't want it to come between us. I don't know what else to say.”
“Say you won't hurt me. If you want Lorraine then go be with her, but don't do this to me.” There they were again: all those gushy female emotions of neediness and insecurity that she hated but couldn't insulate herself from. The very reactions that made her recognize that she was no different from any other woman on the planet. “You told me once that you weren't going to beg. I don't beg either, John.”
He reached out, caressed her cheek, and pulled her into a long, slow kiss. “You are an exciting, exhilarating, irritating, sexy-ass woman. God help me, I just want you. It's not going to be easy, you know that, right? I need to know if you can deal with this.”
Alex considered a bitchy retort, but in her heart she wanted him as much as he professed to want her. She nodded.
John started up the truck and continued up the street. They were greeted by a balmy Southern California breeze when they stepped out of the truck on Melrose, where he escorted her into the Larchmont Grill. John seemed a lot more relaxed now. His cavalier attitude was amusing and exhibited a bit more of a rakish side than she'd seen prior to the consummation of their relationship. She fussed with her hair and smoothed down her skirt as they were seated.
“You look beautiful.” He smiled.
“I can't help thinking that we might run into more of your and Lorraine's friends.”
“So, what if we do? You said you could handle it, right?”
“You like living dangerously,” she mused.
“I gotta admit, it does turn me on.” He chuckled. “But, not nearly as much as you do.”
Dinner went off without as much as an unsolicited glance from a stranger. They sat like unabashed lovers feeding one another from their dishes and laughing as if they didn't have a care between them.
“Was your food all right? You didn't eat much,” John noted.
Alex licked her lips. “I'm planning on having a big dessert.”
He chuckled. “Is that right?”
“A nice long cream-filled chocolate éclair.”
“I don't think they have that on the menu.”
Alex ran her hand under the table and up his leg. “Then I guess we'll have to find some place that can satisfy my craving.”
John inhaled sharply and his nostrils flared. “So, do you think it would be all right if I were to get us a hotel room when we leave here?”
“I'm willing if you are.”

Other books

Humo y espejos by Neil Gaiman
Darkwalker by E. L. Tettensor
Mercy by Annabel Joseph
The Winter of Her Discontent by Kathryn Miller Haines
Dry Bones by Peter Quinn