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Authors: Eric Pete

BOOK: Crushed Ice
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Chapter 24
“Yeah. Yeah. I can come by tonight. I miss you too,” I replied as I paced on my balcony. I had accepted another job and was strategizing in my head while talking to Collette—contemplating someone's ruination while I basked in the glow of my newfound happiness.
This job wasn't as bad as others.
Simple blackmail. A regular private detective would suffice, but I guess they wanted to be
exotic
. Something I could arrange over the phone with minimum effort.
Nothing as complicated as the Vegas job for Ja—
“Collette, let me call you back,” I said as I shoved the sliding glass door aside to run back in.
Whatever was on the news hadn't piqued my interest until the very end.
I know I didn't imagine it. I knew her face well enough. It was that singer Natalia.
Careful not to change channels, I rewound the news program on the DVR back to the beginning of the story.
Multiple shootings.
It was a bloody day in Houston, ending in three dead and one in critical condition. Something about an audition where a singer had been shot.
The singer wasn't Natalia though; rather someone she had some connection to. A former contestant of that reality show
U.S. Icon;
that much was clear when the cameras switched to a visibly shaken Natalia as she arrived at the hospital.
“No comment,” she said as she rushed by the throngs of cameras and boom mikes.
A singer near death.
And connected to Natalia.
This had Jason's fingerprints all over it.
And maybe mine, in some manner. Unforeseen consequences.
Shit.
I scrolled through the numbers on my cell, selecting the appropriate one. The one I knew he'd pick up.
“We need to talk,” I said when Jason answered.
 
 
We agreed to meet in the Continental Presidents Club lounge at Terminal One of the Fort Lauderdale airport. Jason had somewhere to be, but I demanded this, since he refused to discuss anything over the phone. Besides, it was easier to tell if he was lying to my face. Made the last minute flight worth it.
“You came as yourself, Truth. How nice,” Jason remarked as I approached his table. Only two bodyguards flanked him this time. New ones. Deadly professionals, by their look. A sure sign that he was moving up. Jason looked at his watch, anticipating his flight back to Houston, where On-Phire had recently set up shop. Better for him to have been absent when everything went to hell, I thought, as it gave him plausible deniability. “Make it fast. I'm in a foul mood.”
“Somebody didn't give you enough hugs?” I joked. Neither of his sentries reacted.
“You're not funny, dear boy. And I hate wasting time and resources, so it's good that you came.”
“I called you. Remember?”
“Whatever. I have a job for you.”
“Clean up on aisle one back in Houston?” Jason's eye twitched, his body betraying that he had some role in those shootings. “No thanks.”
“If you're not going to help me, then why come out here, nephew? Maybe
you
need a hug,” he shot back. “Oh, that's right. You're finally getting those. Plan on making Dallas your permanent home? Your mother would be so proud. But whatever happened to that beguiling young thing you had on your arm back in Vegas? She learned too much about you?”
I denied him the satisfaction of seeing how his remarks really affected me. “Careful. Family only gets you so much leeway,” I said. “I just wanted to ask you if the fireworks in H-town have anything to do with the Natalia stuff we participated in.”
Jason motioned for his thugs to give us some more space. When they did, he gestured for me to take a seat. I indulged him, knowing he had a flight to catch.
“What if they did?”
“Then I'm done. Looked like some out of control shit you set in motion. I don't want to know what it's about, but some of those people had to be innocents.”
“Hey, you've been doing this for me long enough. To make an omelet, you have to break some eggs. Thing is, after putting in a lot of money and patience, I'm left with nothing but crap.”
“I have my limits, Jason.”
“You mean since you fucked up that time?” he asked, throwing my miscalculation with Collette in my face as if it were a pot of scalding water. “That wasn't one of my jobs anyway. You were freelancing that time, remember? And look where it got you.” He
tsk
ed.
“Don't go there. Don't you fuckin' go there,” I snar-led, jabbing my finger toward him in a way that drew the attention of both bodyguards. Jason nodded at them, indicating no threat.
“Truth, I know we don't have the most cordial relationship, but you're family. And you are gifted,” he said, checking his watch before he stood up. It was time to go. “That allows me to overlook that mouth on you and all the disrespectful filth that comes out of it.”
“Jason, I mean it. I'm done with you.”
“Want to think about it?”
“Nope,” I replied, not bothering to get up. “Enjoy your flight. Consider this our good-bye.”
“You need allies in this world, dear boy. Do you really want to be on the other side when it's game time?”
“Just remember, I got your playbook. I know all your tricks and secrets. Something to think about if you ever consider taking the field against me.”
“Good night, Truth,” Jason said as he left the lounge with an eerie calmness that I did not know how to read.
I wasn't left alone long before my phone rang.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Chris, where are you?” Collette asked. “I thought you were coming by.”
“Oh,” I said, slapping my forehead. “I'm so sorry. An emergency came up.”
“Is everything all right?”
“It will be now,” I said with a smile, forcing myself to believe it. My flight back to Dallas would be boarding within the hour.
Chapter 25
Collette screamed, waving her hands in the air as we drifted sideways on our descent. I gunned the accelerator, a violent but thrilling exercise as I guided the wheel to control our rollercoaster spiral down the parking garage exit ramp. With the top down, we could hear the engine revs reverberating off the walls, could smell the burnt rubber of the tires.
“You are crazy!” she shouted as she braced herself again in her seat. Try as she might to avoid it, a smile escaped.
The Audi TT, while being a roadster, was close enough to the one she dearly remembered. When she could drive. I bought this one as a reminder of those happier times. Despite transactions like this attracting unwanted attention, it was a bit of fun for me as well.
I'd become too comfortable as Chris, my answers and responses to Collette now second nature. The layers I hid behind were becoming as comfortable as a worn pair of jeans. The lovely lady at my side made me feel things I'd rarely confronted. Even had me entertaining something as silly as actually writing a novel.
At the bottom of the parking garage, I paid the attendant then exited onto Commerce Street. Like some nervous school kid, I'd brought her to The French Room at the Adolphus Hotel, hoping to impress her with my knowledge of fine dining. But Collette didn't need such things. My company was enough for her.
“This reminds me so much of my old car,” Collette offered as we stopped at the corner of Commerce and North Griffin. Her delicate fingers traced over the hills and valleys of the dash, stopping at the Audi symbol. Her mind was in another time. Another car. Another life.
A life I'd abruptly ended.
Maybe the car was a miscalculation on my part, some sick part of me wanting to step in and assume the life, however imperfect, that she and her husband had shared. Or was it a sadistic streak? My innate need to push buttons, as if she were a test subject with which to perfect my methods? No. That couldn't be it. I loved her.
I looked in the rearview mirror. Traffic was light. “Want to drive?” I offered.
She grimaced, turning into the sound of my voice. “That's not even funny,” she replied.
“I mean it,” I said, putting the car in park and the emergency flashers on. “I trust you completely. I trust you with my life.”
“You are crazy, Chris. Completely off your rocker.”
“C'mon,” I prodded. “Just down the street. We're not that far from your place. I'll even help you steer if you want.”
I hit the button to unlock my door, but Collette stopped me before I could exit. She reached out for me, putting her hand in mine. It was trembling.
“Stop. I appreciate what you're doing, but just take me home. Okay?”
“You're pissed,” I remarked softly. I was trying too hard. Too much. Too soon.
“No.” She chuckled, turning away so I wouldn't see the obvious tears or hear the tightness in her throat. “Just the opposite.”
“What?”
“You remind me of better times. I mean, I'm okay with the way things are now, but you are someone I should've known earlier. Before Myron. Before this happened.”
“Better late than never, lady. And there's no question as to how I feel about you,” I said as I touched her cheek, turning her to face me again. I kissed her tears away, allowing the passion to build and flow between us.
“Get a fuckin' room!” somebody in a tricked-out yellow Civic yelled as it swerved around us. Our interlude interrupted and chemistry rendered inert, we both laughed.
“Let's get you home,” I said as I turned off the emergency flashers and rolled out. Before I turned onto North Griffin, I noticed a car that had been behind us. It was pulled over a block back with its headlights out. When I made a move, so did the dark sedan. Paranoia being more lover than friend, perhaps, but I couldn't risk it.
Not with Collette.
We took North Griffin and passed under the Woodall Rodgers Freeway, my eyes still affixed on the rearview mirror as the car hummed along. “Mirror” by Supreme Beings of Leisure played on the stereo courtesy of Collette, who'd turned me on to them. And as she'd turned me on to them, so had she turned me on to her, my stylish, sexy, uncompromising, unusual lady. Rather than continue to McKinney, where my route would've taken us past my place, I made a quick U-turn then switched over to North Field. I accelerated quickly onto Ross Avenue, taking a left, where it would take me to Highway 75.
“Slow down,” Collette said as a gust of wind blew across her face. “I know you can drive, so you can stop showing off.”
“I'll never stop trying to impress you, lady,” I teased.
“Boy, you had me at ‘hello,'” she teased back. A shame her introduction was different from mine.
We jumped on Highway 75, passing Griggs Park and the cemetery before taking the third exit at Lemmon Avenue. I stopped short, a block from Collette's place, still unsure if dropping her off was the right thing to do.
“Are we here?” she asked, reaching for the white cane at her side.
“No. For a new car, the top is acting crazy. I'm going to see if I can get it unstuck. Just sit tight.”
As I pretended to fumble with the unbroken top, I surveyed my surroundings, looking for the menacing sedan I'd seen earlier, or anything else not quite right.
“You got it?”
“Almost,” I answered.
I saw nothing, but just couldn't risk us being followed or watched. Before I returned to the car, my phone rang. I snatched it up, quickly checking the number.
Las Vegas.
No business tonight. I'd call back another time.
Jumping back into the driver's seat, I tried raising the power folding top again.
Somehow
it worked correctly this time.
On the move again, Collette noticed something wasn't right.
“I thought we were near my place,” she commented as she found the volume control on the radio and lowered it.
“We are. But I can't take you home,” I replied as we sped away.
Chapter 26
I brought Collette to the Gaylord Texan hotel in Grapevine, far away from Uptown, as a means of overcoming my immediate paranoia. It took a great deal of coaxing along the way to convince her to keep our night going. She relented eventually, chalking it up to my wild and crazy nature. Better safe than sorry, I'd learned.
The people in the Civic did say to get a room, after all.
You never told me you were a kidnapper,” Collette remarked as we walked through the gigantic enclosed atrium after checking in. The tapping of her cane on the tiny cobblestones was amplified, as was everything else in the gorgeous closed environment, several square miles in scope. The gentle gurgle of the waterways that flowed through this place was relaxing. Made it feel like a “mini-Disney” escape.
“I'd like to think a kidnapper with taste . . . and an imagination. Besides, that's what you get for picking up strangers in book stores,” I said as we passed the few hotel guests and conventioneers exploring the indoor gardens, recreated historic architecture, and restaurants that were still open. Straight ahead lay the elevators to take us to a suite in the Lone Star Tower overlooking everything. Not only romantic, but a good vantage point for me.
My phone rang again. This time, Collette heard it.
Same caller as before. Vegas. Forwarded from one of my other phones.
“Aren't you going to answer it?” she asked, probably noticing the change in my step as I looked at the caller ID.
“It can wait. Trust me.”
“Sounds like another woman,” she said, grasping correctly, although this particular woman was strictly business as far as I was concerned.
“No,” I lied. “Just a headache. And I declared tonight a headache free zone before I picked you up. You're my aspirin, babe.”
“You expect me to believe that call wasn't from another woman? Being blind doesn't make me stupid, Chris.” She was more playful than combative. A grown-ass woman who was solid to her core.
“I know. And I don't take you for a fool. I wouldn't have gone there with you after all this time if there were some doubts, Collette. You're the only woman for me. The
only
one in my life. No shit.”
“Let me see,” she said, placing her fingers on my neck to feel my pulse. She removed them after a few quiet seconds. “Hmm,” she pondered quizzically. “I believe you, Chris.”
“Good. Now can we go up to the room? My feet hurt.”
“That's not all that's going to be hurting when I get through with you,” Collette joked before we hurried our pace. Smiling to myself, I took her at her word.
Pushing the elevator button, I read the suite number again on the magnetic key card holder. She toyed with my elbow, running her index finger around and around, as though the tiny lines and cracks were a maze. Electricity danced between us, making me warm to my core.
“Anybody around us?” she whispered while we waited on the elevator to arrive.
“Nope. Just me and you,” I answered, perking up at her tone. The embers already burning, she ignited me by pulling me closer and engaging me wholeheartedly with deep, full kisses.
Upon its arrival, we entered the elevator. Collette pulled sharply on my shirt, intent on tearing down all barriers between us. As my buttons popped loose, she pulled my white T-shirt from out of my pants. Sliding her hands underneath, she vigorously rubbed my chest and caressed my neck. When her fingers traced my lips, I welcomed them in my mouth, cherishing each tip as though it were the sweetest thing known to man.
“Damn, you make me so horny,” she gushed as I continued to suck on her fingers. She dug her face into my chest and kissed with abandon, her warm, damp breath tickling my nipples with every deep gasp.
My breathing becoming more labored, I dug one hand into her curly hair and clutched her ass with the other one, yanking her into me. It took all my control to not rip off her dress and fuck her right there.
Upon reaching our floor, I rushed Collette down the hallway, counting down the rooms as we got closer. With each room number I recited, her anticipation rose. It was as if they were an incantation, the power of numbers working their spell over body and soul.
“Are we there yet?” she asked as we stopped in front of the room.
I didn't answer, instead allowing the click of the lock to alert her. I took her by the hand, leading her into the suite. The room was cool, darkened by the pulled curtains to the balcony. We walked over to the large, plush bed that greeted us.
She exhaled deeply as I unzipped the back of her dress. I glided my hands across her soft shoulders to part the fabric, allowing it to fall to her feet. As she stood there in nothing but a bra and panties, I lazily dragged my tongue from her neck down to the small of her back. I stopped at the tip of her ass crack, softly kissing where the black lace barely obscured the curve of her hips.
“Mmmm,” she murmured, her ass flinching and legs quivering as I reached up, undoing the clasp on her bra, which she removed. Stepping out of the crumpled dress around her ankles, she gently backed herself onto the bed. I watched her slide her panties off, hooking them on her heels before kicking them free. As she lay there, I hesitated, torn over what I wanted at this moment and what would be best for Collette. Cold and impersonal was my way. I couldn't front though. She wasn't just a piece of ass. I cared for her. I needed her like a kite does the stiff breeze.
“Come here,” she urged, sensing my reluctance. She was so lovely—a mass of femininity exuding equal parts sensuality and sensitivity.
And she wanted me.
Me.
To her, I was someone named Chris. But I knew it was the person inside with which she'd connected.
Me.
Whoever that was.
I removed my clothes and joined her, the contact with her skin intoxicating as we writhed in unison atop the thick comforter. Collette squirmed, excited by the passionate kisses I lavished upon her stomach and on her breasts. As I slid atop her, she ran her fingers through my hair, pulling me closer for a kiss. Her tongue was tasty as I took it in my mouth. Entrapping me between her legs, her hands went to places she'd probably wanted to go, but was reluctant to admit.
She gasped when she felt my swollen dick.
“Damn,” she grunted. Catching how she sounded, she giggled. “Sorry.”
“It's okay,” I replied, looking at her and seeing the delight on her face. She began stroking me, eliciting a deep growl from me the harder she worked. Hands of magic. Before long she'd have me howling at the moon.
“Do you have any condoms?” she asked, slowing in her coaxing of me. Allowed me to get control of myself. That phone call obviously had mistrust on her mind, no matter what she said.
“Yeah,” I answered, looking for my pants in the darkened room. As I fetched them from the floor, I noticed Collette running her hands over her body in a slow, deliberate manner. As if checking how she looked for me. No need. She was perfect.
“Are you sure you want to tonight?” I asked, considering what originally set us on this path.
Collette didn't speak of it, and I wasn't supposed to know, but tonight was their anniversary. Her husband, although a cheating piece of shit, was supposed to be here instead. And she wasn't supposed to be . . .
“You don't want to?” she asked, her voice faltering.
“I didn't say that,” I replied as I tore back the foil wrapper.
My phone rang again, but I was too busy making love to Collette. On her anniversary.

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