One Safe Place (40 page)

Mintfurd didn't have to move. She rode his dick, hard, as she moved her ass back and forth. She was almost taking his dick to the edge of her opening, and all the way back inside her. She was pumping hard as she was fucking him and blowing his mind as she kept her ass humping for a long while. He had barked and grunted and slapped her ass every once in a while. She loved the
feel of his dick when she adjusted to it all. It allowed her to show off her sexual, athletic prowess. Her power walking and 5K running conditioning gave her strength and endurance. All he had to do was stand there and feel her tight, wet, hot pussy stroke his dick. She reached under herself and rubbed her clit at the same pace she was riding his hardness.

Darcelle got louder, and a puddle of wetness dripped on the bed. She squirted as she had several orgasms before she slowed down.

When she did, Mintfurd put his hands on her hips, and curled his massive body over Darcelle, and he started humping her as if he were a wild dog. His hand squeezed her waist tight, and his toes curled on the hardwood floor. His cheeks bellowed, and he held still as his flow of hot cum filled her.

She knew to hold still and let him relax. She could feel his hardness pump and throb as he slowly lost his hardness. He pulled out and lay across his bed. She crawled on top of his back. They both fell asleep soon, but Darcelle woke quickly, feeling his flow draining out of her and onto his back and ass. She got up and went to the bathroom and came back with warm, soapy, wet towels. She took her time and washed his whole body.

• • •

Now come morning, and Mintfurd kept seeing his phone beep. It only beeped when it was hot zone time—a call to duty was calling. Darcelle's sweet taste was on his tongue as he licked her pussy, and her scent was making him horny all again. They had been at it every other day since the time in the woods.

He was trying to make her cum before he got up out of the bed, and said, “Come on, baby. Come for me before I go; come on, let it come.”

Darcelle placed her hands on his thighs, and she lifted her body up just enough so she could crane her head and look down between her breasts, and see his tongue extended out of his mouth and licking her clit. She rotated and moved so he could keep licking her and she could watch his tongue and feel it at the same time

Her scent and taste made him lick harder, and she watched and felt. It sent her mind and body reeling and ready to explode. Her nose flared, her lips grew fuller, her eyes widened as she sucked a breath and her stomach caved inward as her back arched. He saw and felt her body jerk as she released sweet wetness onto his face. Her upper body let go and she fell onto his body, and her arms flew to each side of the bed, and she grabbed the sheets. She screamed as if hollering in the wilderness, hoping to be found or happy to be found.

A moment later, Mintfurd checked his message, and then called the office. He let Zelda know he would be in soon. Darcelle was already in his kitchen before he was off the phone. By the time he was out of the shower and dressed, a full meal was waiting for Mintfurd on the table—grits, toast, and eggs.

I
t took a couple of days of research and planning before Psalms and Tylowe headed to Vancouver. They were going to drive their motorcycles, but the weather in the Northwest was playing psycho.

Instead, they drove in Psalms' classic 1962 Pontiac station wagon. Along the way, they had to take a detour because a bridge on the interstate had fallen into a river. Psalms teased Gabrielle that her government was ineffective. She reminded him he once worked for that same government and still paid taxes.

Tylowe told Psalms that having the kids around Meeah and him was bringing something significant to their marriage.

“I'm not sure if it's just having the kids, or because we have taken the time to sit down and talk more often, instead of just being nice to each other while passing by.”

“So, the famous question: Would you do it all over?”

“Only with Meeah. I'm not blind. I see so many people struggling with their mates, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands, and wives. Everyone looks for a profile instead of true passion. Meeah and I have a passion that goes beyond being simply horny and needing a mate.

“The worst influence on people trying to find a mate is the ‘crabs in a barrel' influence of friends and family. They get in to people's affairs, and judge with ugly thoughts. I will never understand how people who don't have anybody, and rarely if ever have had a successful
relationship—how in the hell do they get in other people's? I think she and I have made it work after all these years for us to endure these recent trying times . . .Team Meeah and Tylowe Dandridge, we get the job done.”

“So, you are saying, if there was only one woman ever you could have this team with, that is Meeah, despite that we are going to check this MF up here in Canada?”

“Psalms, I have my reasons that I can't always put into words, and maybe that validates in some ways that I am with the right person. Yes, dealing with Elliot in the backdrop has hurt, but Meeah and I have never let him affect how we treat each other.”

Tylowe's head turned from looking at another casino site along the highway and looked at the side of Psalms' face. “Man, tell me why Elliot nauseates you so much, as it is obvious he does. Anyone can tell. I have my reasons, but is it because he has messed with my life that you hate his ass as you do? I appreciate your help in all this. Don't think I don't. It does sound like Elliot has set his BS to affect many people if he has a connection with Evita's disappearance. But you didn't even like him before all this.”

“I'm going to pull over before we cross the border and get some coffee, and I have a story to tell. I, too, have a history with Elliot that goes back to college.” Psalms drove a little longer. The stereo blasted Curtis Mayfield's “Kung Fu” as he pulled up to a coffee shop. He let the song finish before going in.

Just after they crossed the border, Psalms took the time to tell his story. “Back in college, I heard about Elliot, and that he slept with a few of the girls our friends had gone out with, or had dated. You weren't the only person to confront him about it. I know Malik Coop did, and Mayland Howard told him it was a punk move, but we were also boys and didn't put a lot weight in to what other people did.

“You were running track and playing football. Mayland and Coop were on the basketball court. I was in the weight room working out, or I was on the wrestling mat. We all thought if he had a thing for sleeping with women we had slept with, he was just a twisted freak. Maybe in a strange way, it served us right to be going through girls like jelly beans. We all had egos out of control.

“I was seeing a Hispanic girl who lived off campus near Old Town Albuquerque. I was in to her. I liked her. I believe…no, I know I loved her, so I kept her away from the college scene because as you said, crabs in the barrel. If people see others happy, they want to pull you down if they don't have a good thing. I spent a lot time at her home with her family.

“One day, she was in a sad mood, all emotional. I was holding her and trying to make her feel better about whatever was bothering her. We were at a park at night in my car and it went from sadness to being all over each other. We made a mistake there. We got too hot, and we didn't have condoms. We always had plenty, and just like some teenage idiots, we had sex without a condom, and she came up pregnant.”

“Dude, I remember seeing a Hispanic girl you were dating, or at least I thought you were dating. She was always at your wrestling matches, and she always came over, and hugged you. Folks knew or thought she was someone significant.”

Psalms and Tylowe talked on and off along the trip to the prison. Tylowe sensed Psalms was troubled and didn't press him. They made it to the prison and parked.

“Mina was her name. She committed suicide.” Psalms turned the stereo volume up for a while, listening to the Latin soul of the band War's song, “The World is a Ghetto.”

Psalms stared at the wall of the prison, burning a vision all the way to Elliot's cell. “She left a note, and she wrote that Elliot had
raped her, and she was not sure who the father of the baby was. She took her…she took my baby's life. It had to be my child—my child. My child came from love. That had to dominate over an evil seed, right?”

Tylowe knew Psalms was not asking.

“Elliot acted as though I didn't know, and maybe he didn't realize that I knew that he raped my girl. This went on for a week with him smiling in my face. I don't know if he knew Mina had taken her life. I doubt if he even knows right now. He did pay a small price, but not the price he should have paid. I knew where he practiced his motorcycle riding, on a back road, out in back of the mountain area near the Tram. I shot him with a BB gun while he was riding. He hit the ground like a sack of rocks.”

Tylowe looked at him weird.

“Hey, I didn't have guns back in college. Anyway, he came off his motorcycle at about 45 miles per hour. Elliot was hurt, not serious enough, but he was dazed. He didn't see me as I beat him to within inches of his life. The only thing that stopped me was my grandfather had killed a man before and that it involved Evita. I wasn't ready for blood on my hands…yet.”

Tylowe stared at the prison gate, and then out of the corner of his eye at Psalms, knowing that, in Psalms' life, he had taken a life or lives. The man was a trained Navy SEAL, and Tylowe knew that Suzy Q had, and would again if need be, as she'd helped a man take his own life a few years ago.

“I do remember Elliot being in the hospital from a motorcycle accident. He left school after that, and went back to France. He made a name as a celebrated Grand Prix motorcycle racer, as we all know. We all thought that was where he made his money. Later, I found out he was trafficking drugs with the Russians and using
the motorcycle dealerships as front, using Meeah and her family.”

“Yeah, that's our boy, and he's still at it after all this time.” Psalms sounded tired; he was living with a memory he had shared rarely, if at all.

“So, do you think after all this time Elliot has not known all that you know? Your girl Mina becomes pregnant, and she committed suicide, and then you beat Elliot's ass. I have to think he knows something. I know you're a mastermind, and you can handle most situations, but if you are wrong, it can hurt more than you and me. Why is he targeting you? I know why he's messing with my life, and he may want his kids, but most likely he only wants their money. He may have enemies, but we seem to be his prime targets for revenge.

“Psalms, I know you don't like anyone to stand up to you, so I have to ask, are you letting your emotions or your ego cloud your thinking?”

“If my thinking is clouded, so is his, and trust me, a man with an ego like his, he may plot, but he doesn't know when to stop. I'm clearer than he is as of right now. I beat his ass silly before, and now…well, you don't want to know what I will do, and it won't be because he's running on stupid. This is not about whose dick is bigger, and this is not about which man can lift his leg up higher, and win a pissing contest. This is life and death.”

“I hear all that, man, but keep in mind we have people back in Seattle. I have a wife and two grown daughters out there, and now two more children. You have Gabrielle, who has been through hell herself as of late; you need to find Evita, and you have all your other friends. They are counting on you and me. We can't bring harm to them just because we seek revenge against this dude. He may have the same idea.”

“Tylowe, trust me, I have everybody in mind.” Psalms handed Tylowe a piece of paper. “Don't read this until after we come back outside and get into the car.”

Tylowe looked at Psalms with a blank look. They exited the car and went inside.

• • •

At the sign-in desk, Psalms showed his high-level U.S. government papers and ID. Tylowe also had Canadian ID because he and Meeah owned property there, and his motorcycle dealership franchise was still in Vancouver, although it had been downsized.

A guard entered their information in a computer, and said, “I see you visited an Elliot Piste last time you were here.” The guard's eyebrows arched.

“Yes, we'd like to see him again,” said Tylowe.

“That won't be possible; he is no longer an inmate here.” The guard looked up from the computer with a look that said,
You should know that if you came all this way.

Tylowe's head jerked toward Psalms with his eyes wide open. Psalms acted indifferent and unfazed. He asked the guard a question.

“We met a very helpful guard last time we were here. A Sergeant Royce.”

“Oh yeah, she's been on vacation since last week,” the guard said while handing back their paperwork.

“Thank you for your time,” Psalms said.

The two Americans had not said a word as they walked back to their car. In the car, Tylowe opened the piece of paper. The information on the paper read that Inmate Elliot Piste, a French citizen, filed a grievance with the French Consulate that he had received cruel and unusual punishment. His jaw was slightly fractured, and
a few teeth were knocked out. He had received wounds that brought about minor internal bleeding from an attack from visitors in the visitors' room.

The French and Canadian governments had an agreement to protect each other's citizens in war, or convicted criminals imprisoned on each other's soil. A settlement was agreed upon due to the grievance. The prisoner was due for parole in two years, so they had given him an immediate release as of one week ago.

“So why are we here?” Tylowe asked.

“Because he might be watching us or has people watching us. If we didn't come, he'd be a step ahead of us in knowing we know what we know. Yep, he played us from the start. Chess. I got caught off-guard because he was in prison and he'd been out of circulation, but I can assure you he's been working his ass off from the day you put him in prison. Give that MF credit though; he played us.