Savage Rage (21 page)

He was silent, sorting through the thoughts and emotions running rampant in his head. Finally, “Hurt. Betrayed.” He laughed, a short, rough bark. “And really, really pissed.”

Jack drained his cider, using the opportunity to free his hands from hers; it was too distracting having her touching him. He knew she did it in friendship, but she had that effect on him, got him thinking what it would be like to be single and free to ask her out. Definitely something he should not be thinking about.

“I thought you wanted kids.” She eased back in her seat, giving him some room.

“I do.” He signalled to the waitress for another round. “But we agreed to wait, pay off some bills, build up a reserve. You know, build a good financial base. It's not like she's too old and we have to hurry. If she had gotten pregnant by accident . . . that would have been one thing, but now . . . I don't know. And to be
plotting
” — the word came out between clenched teeth — “with her mother, to use a baby to control me, to get me to quit. . . .” He shook his head, at a loss.

The waitress came with refills and Jack chugged half the bottle.

“Easy there, Jack. Getting drunk won't help.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and nodded. “I know. It's just that if it wasn't for her parents . . . Her mom wants me — fuck that,
expects
me — to be some puppet for her and Karen. Mostly her. And Karen's dad . . . Hell, at least he's straightforward. He just wants Karen to divorce me.” He frowned in frustration and took another drink. A sip this time.

Jenny paused, then asked the question that had to be asked. “Do you still want to be married to Karen?”

It was a question Jack had asked himself repeatedly since the morning. “Yeah, I do. I mean, I think I do. Fuck!” He scrubbed his face with both hands before letting them drop limply into his lap. “I don't know what to think, Jenny. I'm too fucked up right now.” He gave her a weak smile, then reached across the table for her hands. She gave them to him willingly. “All I know right now is that I'm very thankful to have friends like you and Manny. I appreciate you letting me vent to you.”

She slid her hands over his and squeezed. “Any time, you big idiot.”

He smiled, a real smile this time. They sat quietly, holding hands. Jack was content to let the silence grow. It wasn't uncomfortable and the feel of her hands in his was doing weird and wonderful things to his spine. A minute later, he thought he had to let go before things got awkward.

“What about you?” His hands were around the cider bottle. It was a poor substitute.

“I'm not having problems with my wife,” Jenny joked.

“Haw haw. Very funny. I vented, now it's your turn. C'mon, give.”

The smile faded from her lips and the room became a touch less bright. “I know how you feel. I'm pissed too but for different reasons. Things were going so well. I thought I'd finally found a decent guy.” She stopped, embarrassment showing on her face. “Actually, he reminded me a lot of you. Oh, relax, I'm not hitting on you. I told you before, I'm not a home wrecker. It's just that ever since I got to know you at that beach party —”

“The one where you slept with me?” It was either make a joke or have his insides rupture from twisting up at her words.

She rolled her eyes. “Yes, the night I fell asleep with my head on your lap. If that's what you mean by sleeping with you.”

“Hey, just pointing out the facts, that's all.”
Way to go, Jack. Now open wide and see if you can cram the other foot in.

But Jenny smiled as if she appreciated the levity. “It's just that you're one of the good guys, Jack, and I hope Karen realizes that.”

“Thank you,” he said honestly. “I hope you make this Richard guy realize how much he messed up tonight, because he obviously doesn't know. I mean, if I had a woman like you, there's no way I'd be passing up on a night with you. Not for a hockey game. Not for anything.”

She rewarded him with another smile and he decided he liked it when she smiled. Especially when the smiles were for him.

“You're an amazing woman, Jenny.” He wanted to banish her sadness. “You're smart, confident, caring and you have a killer body.”

Her blush deepened. “Now you're just trying to make me feel better.”

“Just repeating what I hear in the change room. I mean, if I had naked pictures of you to sell, I could have retired last year.”

She laughed. “That has to be the most backhanded compliment I've ever been given.”

He laughed with her. “All I'm saying is that you're a great woman and one day you'll find a guy who realizes that. And if Richard doesn't, it's his loss, not yours.”

“Thank you, Jack. I'm glad we're friends.”

It was his turn to smile. “Me, too.” But if they were just friends, why did he have an urge to punch out some guy he'd never met?

0010 hours

Lisa was working her corner at Shuter and Seaton, but she didn't mind much now that Kayne was looking after her. In fact, life had been sweet since she had hooked up with the Man. He took real good care of her. She had a place to sleep, food if she was hungry and all the rock she could smoke. The Man was real generous when it came to sharing his rock. Not like that fucking asshole Leo. He had used her to set up the johns and had only tossed her a few bucks. And he had beaten her when he thought she wasn't working hard enough. But a girl had to have protection out here on the streets.

Now Lisa had the best protection in the world. No one messed with Kayne, so no one messed with her. Why he kept that little shit Jesse around she'd never know. All he did was kiss the Man's ass and smoke rock that could have been hers. True, she'd grudgingly admit, they were staying at Jesse's place, but Jesse wouldn't have that bigger room if it wasn't for the money Kayne brought in. Jesse was a little punk-ass bitch and if Kayne hadn't saved his ass Leo would have cut him up. She always smiled when she thought of how Jesse had cried like a punk when Leo had him. What a bitch.

Guess guys just like to have other guys around
.

Not that Kayne was a fag, that was for fucking sure and when he wanted to fuck she was there for him. Whatever way he wanted it, she'd do it for him. She even let Jesse have a ride if her Man told her to, but she liked it better when Jesse watched, waiting for his turn and then Kayne would want to sleep, his strong arms wrapped around her. Those were the best, knowing Jesse had a major case of blue balls and couldn't do anything about it. What a bitch.

But now she was back working, helping her Man. She loved watching him beat the fucking shit out of guys, then slice them up with his . . . watchamacallit . . . his talisman. All that fucking blood. She got horny just watching.

Kayne had taken up Leo's old scam, using her to bring the johns to him. They didn't do it much, just enough to make some quick cash and they never rolled a regular john, someone who might go to the cops. Not that her Man was afraid of the fucking cops. Fuck no. But if the cops started looking for them, then the party was over, so why fuck up a good thing?

And Lisa was good at spotting the vics — she'd learned that word from watching that TV show, whatchama call it,
Lawyer's Order
— the ones who wouldn't go crying to the pigs. Crack-heads, wannabe tough guys, little bitches like Jesse.

And here was one right now.

“Hey, honey, you looking to party?” Lisa had on her best come-fuck-me smile for the vic when he turned around. He'd walked past her, pretending not to check her out, but she'd seen the look in his eyes. He wanted to fuck.

She stuck a leg out, planting her hand on the other hip — she'd seen the pros stand like that on TV — and let the vic check out the goods. And she was looking fucking good. Kayne had said her old clothes stunk like rat shit and sent her to the Goodwill store to buy some new ones. That was the only time he had hit her and she knew she deserved it; she had used the money to buy some rock. The next time he had told her to buy clothes, she did as she was told.

She had on a blue jean skirt and a black tank top, but what she was most proud of was the leather jacket. She'd never owned a leather jacket before. Jesse said it wasn't real, but what the fuck did he know? He also said the skirt made her legs look like skinny crack whore legs, so he didn't know shit.

She waited, smiling her come-fuck-me smile, for the man to make up his mind. He was eyeing her up and down, so she opened the jacket to show him what could be his. The night air was cold, but she kept the jacket open. It had been a slow night and Kayne would not be happy if she let this one get away.

The vic was a young guy with a hard face. Not much skin on it and a mean set to his jaw. A tough guy for sure. Lisa smiled. Kayne would show him what tough was. Nice leather jacket, though.

“So, honey, like what you see?”

The vic stepped closer, reached out to feel up her left tit. His eyes were fixed on her chest like he'd never seen a pair of tits before and Lisa let him fondle her for a few seconds before pushing his hand away.

“Any more and it's gonna cost you, honey. We can go back in there and party.” She tilted her head up Seaton Street, in the general vicinity of the laneway Leo used to use.

The vic looked at the laneway, then back at her. He nodded. Lisa took his hand and led him up the sidewalk, shivering at the thought of him behind her. There was something wrong about this vic, something that spooked her and if Kayne hadn't been around there was no fucking way she'd be going anywhere with this guy. He fucking creeped her out.

But Kayne was there, waiting in the shadows across the street from the laneway. He'd give her enough time to get the vic all happy and horny; then the real fun would begin. Maybe Kayne would let her have his jacket. It sure as fuck didn't look fake.

The laneway was heavy with shadows and the narrow space between the two dumpsters was darker yet. Smiling, Lisa walked backward into the gap, tugging the vic in after her. “C'mon, honey. Ain't no one gonna bother us here.”

But the vic didn't want to be dragged into the confining shadows. Was he just changing his mind or had he caught on? Fuck, she'd been so eager to get him in between the dumpsters she hadn't even talked about price or what he wanted. Of course he'd figured something was wrong.

He grabbed Lisa by the throat. “You fucking whore.” His voice was raspy and it perfectly mimicked the hate that blossomed in his eyes.

Lisa knew she was in deep shit. But that was all right.

Kayne appeared behind the vic and Lisa's fear vanished as her Man grabbed the vic by the shoulders and rammed his head into the dumpster. The vic dropped to one knee but didn't go down. Maybe he was a tough guy after all. No matter. Kayne dug his fingers into the vic's spiky black hair and smashed a knee into his face.

“Do him, baby!” Lisa hissed. “Who's the fucking whore now, bitch?”

The vic was on both knees, his mouth and chin drenched in blood. Lisa hoped Kayne had knocked the fucker's teeth out. But fucker or not, he was tough. He clutched at Kayne's sweatshirt, tried to pull himself to his feet. Kayne smiled and let the vic get back to his feet before kicking him in the stomach. Kayne's heavy boot blasted the air out of the vic and this time when he went down he stayed down.

“I want his jacket.” Lisa began tugging at the leather. “Can I have it, lover? Can I?”

Kayne laughed. “Sure, baby. Let's see what else this fuck has on him.”

He hauled the vic up into a sitting position, ripped the jacket free and tossed it to Lisa. She clutched it to her chest, laughing happily.

“Got your jacket, bitch,” she crowed. “Who's the whore now, bitch?”

Kayne went through the vic's pockets. No wallet but a bit of cash. Kayne stuffed it in his pants.

“You gonna cut him now, baby?” Lisa's eyes were wide with excitement and Kayne saw her hand sneak under her skirt.

“Horny little bitch, ain't you?” Kayne laughed. “Yeah, I'm gonna cut him. Give me a fucking min — what the fuck?”

“What is it, baby?” Her Man had been checking the vic's shirt pockets and now a slow smile was spreading across his face. “He got some more money?”

“You ain't gonna believe this.” Kayne grabbed the front of the vic's denim shirt and ripped it open.

“Holy shit!” Lisa couldn't believe her eyes. No fucking wonder she'd gotten a weird feeling from him: the vic was a woman.

“Her titties are smaller than yours,” Kayne declared as he dragged the vic to her feet.

“Whatcha gonna do, baby? Ain't you gonna cut her?” Lisa wailed quietly from where she squatted between the dumpsters. She was all set to frig herself off watching Kayne do his thing.

“I don't cut women,” he stated as he flung the vic across the hood of a nearby car. “But I've got something else for her.”

The vic was moaning and trying to push up from the car so Kayne slammed her face into the metal. The laneway rang with the impact. The vic slumped but was still conscious and that made Lisa happy. She knew what Kayne was going to do and she wanted this bitch to be awake for it.

“Fuck her, baby, fuck her,” she chanted, prancing around the front of the car.

Kayne fought the vic's jeans to her knees before unbuckling his own. Lisa laughed delightedly. Her Man was hard and ready. He slammed himself inside her and the vic screamed.

“Who's the fucking whore now, bitch?” Lisa spat into her face. “Who's the fucking whore now?”

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking incredibly sexy in a tight black dress. She smiled at Jack as he stepped toward her and he knew she was his for the taking. He didn't know who she was, had never seen her before, but she was beautiful and she wanted him.

What am I doing? I don't know her.

Jack ignored his doubts and reached for her, sliding first one then the second thin strap off her shoulders. He knelt before her and still didn't recognize her but didn't stop. Slowly, tenderly, he tugged her dress down, freeing her small, lovely breasts, the nipples already stiffening to excited points.

What am I doing? I'm married!

He paid no heed to his honourable thoughts. He cupped her breasts, his thumbs flicking gently across the nipples. She sighed and arched her back, pushing her flesh firmly into his hands.

I can't do this. I'm married.

She was lying on the bed, naked, smiling over her shoulder at him as she raised her buttocks enticingly, urging him on. And he needed no further invitation. He was hard and ready. He crawled onto the bed, positioned himself above her. As he thrust into her, he screamed in his mind.

I can't do this! I'm married! I can't cheat on Jenny!

Jack snapped awake, the quiet darkness of the bedroom greeting him. He lay still, listening, but Karen slept on beside him. They had barely spoken when he got home from work and had gone to bed with a cold chasm between them.

What the fuck was that about?

To cheat on your wife in a dream was one thing. Dreaming your wife was someone else and still be cheating?

I have no idea what that's supposed to mean.
This was one nocturnal fling he could do without remembering.

Karen rolled over to face him. “Everything okay?” she mumbled, her face nestled comfortably in her pillow. She must have become attuned to his restlessness and nightmares; she awoke easily if he was having a bad night.

“I'm fine. Go back to sleep, hon,” he whispered, caressing her cheek with a tender finger.

She murmured something as she kissed his finger, then snuggled deeper into the covers. Seconds later her breathing was deep and regular again.

But sleep did not come quickly or easily for Jack. He lay awake for a long time, wondering what his dreaming mind had been trying to tell him.

53's lobby was everything 51's wasn't: big, airy, bright. It even had plants. Except for the cops behind the front desk, it could have been the foyer of any commercial building. When Jack had left 53 Division to return to the place where he really belonged, he had hoped never to set foot again in the station at the corner of Eglinton Avenue West and Duplex Avenue. But here he was, less than a week in 51 and dragged back for some bullshit he'd forgotten about.

Well, the kid warned you, said his mommy was a lawyer.

“Hey, Jack. Thought you'd left us.”

“So did I, Kimmy. Buzz me in, please? I need to see the boss.”

The station operator, a buxom blonde with a heart of gold and no patience for cops who talked to her bust and not her face, hit the button at her desk to let him in. Every platoon had a civilian operator — the real boss of any shift, most staff sergeants were willing to admit — and Kimmy was one of the best. She logged the work hours, knew who was on holidays, did the thousand and one little tasks needed to keep the platoon running smoothly and acted as the staff's first line of defence. Anyone coming into the station to talk to an officer or a supervisor had to get past her and only people with real problems got past her. She would have made an awesome cop.

Jack had asked her one day why she hadn't gone that route and she had laughed. “Me with a gun? Are you serious? It's all I can do some days not to reach over the front counter and slap some of these idiots.”

As he walked in, she said, “Good luck, hon,” and gave him a thumbs-up. He thumbed her back and headed to the second floor.

Seems like my summons isn't much of a secret.

Staff Greene had advised him on parade that he was due at the superintendent's office at 53 at nine o'clock sharp. Greene had told Jack to be early because, as Greene understood it, Jack was “in serious enough trouble without adding tardiness to the list.”

Tardiness? Who used words like tardiness nowadays?
Jack glanced at his watch. Oops, seven minutes late. He knocked on the super's open door and stepped in.

“Come on in, Jack. Glad you could make it.”

Superintendent Ramirez was a big man with a shock of silver hair and a permanently tanned complexion. TPS's version of George Hamilton. Say that to his face and it might be the last thing you utter with all your teeth.

“I'd like you to meet Frank and Marian Covingston.”

The couple sitting in front of Ramirez's desk — big, like the office — were mismatched. The woman was slim, dressed in a dark suit; she studied Jack with a distasteful slant to her perfectly painted lips. The husband wasn't big but had a solid build. He wore jeans and a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up over thick forearms. Jack guessed Frank had built his muscles through years of manual work and not in the gym.

Jack shook with both of them. Briefly with Marian — definitely the lawyer of the two — and firmly with Frank. Jack got the feeling Frank was not happy about being there.