The Cherry on His Cigar

By J A Stevens

Winston D. Brownstone. Radically insane from
birth, his extreme intelligence however, empowered
him to fore-think his crimes from a very early age and over
the years, murdered countless men and women. Brutal and
bloody their deaths, and he enjoyed every moment, especially
defiling the dead bodies in the most lurid, carnal manner
imaginable, but, no longer confident in his superior mastery
of eluding authorities, his intellect suddenly unable to curb the
unfamiliar anxiety crushing his capability to reason, because now,
the rabies virus completely infected his mind.

THE CHERRY ON HIS CIGAR spans thirteen years,
propelling the reader on a roller-coaster ride filled with passion,
love, hate, fear and vengeance, journeying across America,
down along the coast of Costa Rica, over to American Samoa
and up through The Bering Strait.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: May 2, 2014
• ISBN: 9781493184033

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

February 1993

Phoenix, Arizona

Coach Kerrigan, get back to your corner, barked referee Jacobs.

The forty-eight-year-old Kerrigan, still extremely attractive and fit, angrily shouted back at the referee, That was an intentional elbow strike.

Maddy, the head coach of the other team, was fit as well and older, but not wiser. He had just received an unsportsmanlike conduct penalty and, determined to provoke Kerrigan into getting one too, snapped mockingly, Yea, Kerrigan, go back to the corner and nurse your baby.

In support of their favorite teams, packed inside the large gymnasium, family, friends, and fans screamed, waving signs and banners as they focused on the intense scenario developing between the two wrestling coaches.

Kerrigan put his hands on his hips and, turning toward Maddy, nose to nose, chest to chest, replied bluntly, You are not running the show.

Your boy’s a farce, Kerrigan. The kid came out of nowhere two years ago, got lucky and won a few matches, and is more than likely a nephew or grandson of some rich old prick who donated tons of cash to your program. Now you think he’s actually capable of winning the title against my wrestler, the country’s number one collegiate champion. He’s nothing, Kerrigan, nothing, Maddy jeered as he jabbed his middle finger into Kerrigan’s chest.

In a valiant effort to try and control his temper, Kerrigan exhaled deeply and walked away, but not before Maddy shoved him roughly. Kerrigan instantly turned back in an attack stance, shot out, folding his arms tightly around Maddy’s knees. Maddy’s wrestling skills instinctively kicked in, and he clasped his arms around Kerrigan’s hips, causing them both to crash down on the mat.

The crowd, now a frenzied mass going wild, watched as frantic assistant coaches, wrestlers, and referees converged on the two adult men, vehemently struggling to pull them apart. Officials at the head table promptly announced penalties against each team, and fearful the wrestlers would battle as well for they were starting to chest up to opposing team members, the frustrated referees began to blow their whistles, sternly ordering everyone off the mat and back to their own corners.

He’s nothing but a punk and he’s finished! Maddy yelled as his three assistant coaches pushed him down in a chair.

Coach, your lip is bleeding, told one of his assistants as he handed Maddy a towel.

One more word, Maddy, and your team is out. You got that straight? Jacobs whispered harshly.

Maddy jerked his head up to Jacobs, ready to retort. When he saw the stern look on the referee’s face, he decided it was best to keep silent.

Calm down, Coach, pleaded another of Maddy’s assistants. Let’s wrap this up and get the hell out of here.

Nodding his head in agreement, Maddy held the towel to his bloody lip as he continued to glare at Jacobs.

Kerrigan’s assistants, Daniels and Witt, firmly led Kerrigan by his arms to the opposite corner, unceremoniously forcing him down in a chair. With feet clad in polished black dress shoes planted firmly on the floor, Kerrigan sat with legs spread, his arms draped around the back of the chair. His blue suit jacket was open, his white shirt slightly untucked and his tie, undone and askew. His thick dark hair, always neatly combed back with gel, had become somewhat of a tangled mass. Jerking his arms up, Kerrigan ran his fingers through his hair in order to give it some sort of semblance.

I wish I’d given that pompous ass more than just a bloody lip. Kerrigan said as he peered scornfully at Maddy.

At that moment, Isaac thought his coach couldn’t have looked more cool.

Isaac’s nose? Kerrigan asked as he rose out of his chair, facing Isaac.

Plugged and taped, barked Daniels.

Are you ready? Kerrigan asked.

Ready, Coach, Isaac replied, shaking out his arms as he rolled his head from side to side.

Kerrigan, a few inches taller than Isaac, stared at the young wrestler, silently reflecting back on all the hard work Isaac had accomplished to get to this level. The training the kid had before Kerrigan recruited him into the program was solid, but initially, Kerrigan thought there was no way he could turn this headstrong young man into a competitive athlete. He had underestimated Isaac’s determination. The kid filled out from constant lifting, his agility greatly improved along with his speed and stamina from continually running and sparring, and he was just plain tough.

The champ is as clever as a fox, quick as a rabbit, and in the lead by one, Kerrigan said earnestly as he held Isaac’s shoulders. There’s only a minute left in the match. Good luck, kid.

Isaac quickly ran out to the center of the mat and, looking directly into the eyes of his opponent, knew it was going to be extremely difficult to score on the outstanding athlete before him as apparent hatred flashed back from those very eyes. With the sound of the whistle, the two wrestlers aggressively began to attack and defend, methodically burning up time.

Head to head in the center of the mat, the champ hand fights, circles, gaining position and shoots a double-leg takedown, his arms tightly wrapping around Isaac’s legs, lifting Isaac. All the champ’s fans, as well as his team members, started to celebrate, convinced that the title would remain his as he forced his shoulder into Isaac’s chest, attempting to drive Isaac’s back to the mat, ultimately adding to his one-point lead. Consequently the move had the opposite effect and gave Isaac the power to use that aggression against the champ.

In a spectacular display of athleticism, in midair, Isaac wrapped one arm completely around the champ’s head as his other arm encircled the champ’s waist. When Isaac’s feet hit the mat, in a violent smooth twist, Isaac arched his back, thrust his hip, rearing his head, and took the champ straight down on his back.

Two-point takedown for the challenger, Jacobs yelled as he held up two fingers, swinging his arm once. The crowd gasped and cheered as Jacobs continued counting, kneeling next to the two wrestlers now chest to chest on the mat. Two-point near fall for the challenger.

Officials at the head table nod to the referee beyond the mat, who then tossed a towel, striking Jacobs just as the horn sounded, ending the match. Jacobs grabbed Isaac’s arm, raising it high as Isaac’s teammates rushed to him and exuberantly lifted him to their shoulders, proudly parading the new champion around the gym.

Later that night, after all the fans had filed out, the other teams had loaded up in their vans and left, Kerrigan’s wrestlers, showered and dressed, sat in the bleachers, patiently waiting for their coach, watching workers roll up mats, take down tables, and making sure no garbage remained anywhere in the gym. Finally, Kerrigan and his two assistants emerged from the locker room, each holding a clipboard full of papers with the wrestlers’ stats.

We did very well as a team, taking first, Kerrigan said as he looked around at all the wrestlers. The individuals that qualified for the championship tournament know who they are, and congratulations. The tournament will be in Iowa, which I’m sure you are aware of, and quite a few of those Iowa boys have qualified as well, and they are tough, so it will be difficult, very difficult to pull off wins. After watching you tonight, I know you can do it, but the question is, will you? In the next couple of weeks, I will be your most hated enemy. I will be more demanding than ever. Practices will be extremely taxing, and I do not, I repeat, do not want to hear someone is ineligible because of their grades. Now, I’m well aware of how hungry you all must be, and parents and girlfriends are waiting, so good night, gentlemen, and thanks, but don’t lose sight of what’s to come and what I expect, and keep in mind how it felt when the ref raised your arm as the victor.

Dressed in a white shirt, black suit, and tie, Isaac sat with his legs spread wide, arms outstretched with his back against the bleachers, watching everyone leave with their people, except Lawrence, who stood with three young women next to an exit, looking toward him.

Come on, Isaac, let’s go, Lawrence yelled irritably, waving his arm.

Isaac admiringly watched his one and only friend since arriving at the college two years ago approach. The handsome black man with the shaved head had a sleek, sinewy body fashionably clothed in a white dress shirt, olive dress pants, and the same type of black shoes Isaac wore.

Isaac, that girl you went out with a couple of weeks ago is here, man. She’s some fine-looking white bread. Now come on.

Lawrence, I’m not interested.

Lawrence put his head down, replying exasperatingly, Here we go again. Isaac, what about this one, don’t you like? The fact that Kelly is a tall, beautiful brunette, or because she’s smart, or wait, maybe because she’s rich?

I don’t know, insisted Isaac as he laughed. I just don’t like her. She… she smells like soup.

Soup, huh? retorted Lawrence.

Yea, soup.

What’s wrong with soup? Man, I like soup, Lawrence asked.

So do I, but I don’t want my girlfriend smelling like it, Isaac flung back.

Isaac man, you keep sleeping with these girls and then dumping them, sooner or later it’s going to turn into some sort of fatal-reaction bullshit.

That’s not what it’s called, Isaac said as he laughed.

Look, Isaac. I found out my cousin is living in the valley and having a big party tonight. How ’bout we go?

I do not want to lead Kelly on, Lawrence, Isaac said seriously as he nodded toward the girls.

If I know my cousin, I guarantee this party will not be a gathering for quiet, personal bonding.

If Kerrigan finds out, he’ll run our butts until he’s tired, Isaac said warningly.

Lawrence put his hands on his hips, looking directly at the crazy white boy he liked above all his other friends and said, We don’t have to get lit up. Let’s just check it out. Besides, I haven’t hooked up with my cousin in years, and since you’re so worried about gettin’ into trouble, you be the designated driver.

Isaac quickly raised his left hand, effortlessly catching the set of car keys tossed at him.

Do you guys know where you’re going? Kelly asked skeptically.

It sure is dark, said Becky as she looked out the backseat car window.

The house is only a few miles from Lincoln, Lawrence replied frustratingly, gazing out the front window. We should be close.

There is nothing out here but rattlesnakes and coyotes, the third girl, Naomi, laughed.

Hey, I’m just trying to show everyone a good time, Lawrence said defensively as he pointed both hands to his chest. I don’t need any business coming from you women in the back. Now what I need is a little cooperation from you all, not the negative bullshit I’m hearing.

With eyes fixed intently on the dark road, Isaac drew a deep breath as Lawrence and the girls bickered. Suddenly, as he slowly rounded a curve, scores of cars, motorcycles, and trucks lined each side of the road.

Minutes later, guided by modern rock music blaring in the chilly desert night air, Isaac and company ascended the steep cement drive toward the brilliantly illuminated white house where the music emanated from. Clay copper-colored stepping-stones decorated with southwestern designs led to a wide veranda supported by six large white pillars. The face of the entrance, both bottom and top levels, were constructed of multipaned windows. Copper clay shingles covered the entire roof, stretching out for thousands of square feet. On opposite ends of the house, two large concrete chimney stacks rose up, like obelisks, into the moonlit sky. The thick wooden Spanish-style front door stood ajar, and the group walked into a plethora of people, both young and old, from different walks of life.

The large crystal chandelier hanging from the vaulted ceiling above the center of the foyer brightly lit the entire chamber, dramatically enhancing the gleam cast by black-and-white marble flooring, and aside from the two huge ferns sitting on individual iron plant stands, no other furniture occupied the room. A solid white-washed iron staircase spiraled up to a loft, and it appeared that the only purpose the loft served was to harbor more houseplants. Archways could be seen on either end of the loft, and between those archways, built into the wall, was a small elevator that opened directly in front of Isaac and four people walked out, instantly mingling into the crowd on the first floor.

Isaac led his friends through a wide hallway crowded with smiling people holding drinks in their hands. Shoulder to shoulder, the small group pressed forward, passing a large mirrored room where a vertical stainless steel pole was bolted to the floor and ceiling and several people stood next to the stereo system, going through hundreds of music discs, trying to decide what to play next.

Continuing their trek, they entered a crowded room with tan tile flooring. Straight ahead, open french doors swung out, revealing a patio where more square stepping-stones covered the ground. There was no standing or sitting room at the long cedar bar to their left or the plush blue sofa sectional to the right, so the group of five moved out into the cool night air.

Crowded as well, but not as cramped, the group comfortably walked about at arm’s length amidst the many men and women scantily clad in bathing suits, happily jumping, diving, and swimming in the adequately lit pool, relaxing in the hot tub and sitting around small tables, enjoying food and drink. Suddenly, the savory aroma of grilled chicken and beef filled the air, and the two hungry wrestlers immediately abandoned the girls as they relied on their sense of smell, which successfully guided them straight to a small concrete veranda.

You’re just in time, said a short, portly old man who wore an apron wrapped tightly around his torso and a knit beanie on his head. This is the last of it. Here, take the tongs and help yourselves. Forks, napkins, bread, chips, salsa, all over there, he said as he handed them both a sturdy paper plate. On the same table, the cooler has all kinds of salads. What do you want to drink?

I’ll take a bottle of water, Isaac said as he pulled a steak off the grill.

Water? the cook snapped disgustedly. Son, that’s over in the cooler.

How about a beer? Lawrence asked as he shoveled pasta salad on his plate.

Now that’s more like it, the cook said as he poured beer from a keg tap into a plastic cup and set it on the bar. You boys sit here, next to the fire. I’ll be back shortly, he said as he looked at his watch.

Isaac and Lawrence ate at the bar, listening to the cook firmly kick everyone out of the pool and hot tub. His stern demeanor was met with unwilling, disappointed guests moaning and groaning as they reluctantly moved inside. The cook followed close behind to make sure his orders were followed.

They didn’t even offer to get us a drink, Kelly said dejectedly as she avoided the wet people from the pool running past her.

Well, they’re wrestlers and who knows when they last ate, Naomi said.

Isaac is so gorgeous, Becky said musingly. His long curly black hair reminds me of the actor in that vampire movie I saw years ago.

Truthfully, Kelly, I did notice Isaac’s disinterest, and I think you’d be wise to just move on, girl, Naomi said bluntly.

Maybe we should go, Kelly said sadly.

Hey, babe. Where’s your drink? a tall handsome young man in a polo shirt and jeans asked Kelly.

Well, maybe I don’t want to leave just yet, Kelly whispered to her friends, then turning to the man, gave him a brilliant smile.

One hour later, the cook looked over the grill and coolers and, smiling, opened a box of cigars, bellowing happily, You boys did a number on the food. Here, grab one if you like.

It was excellent, Isaac said, reaching for a cigar.

Yes, it was, Lawrence interjected as he raised his cup. May I please have another beer?

I’ll take one too, Isaac said after he lit his cigar. Gently blowing smoke through the crisp night air, he stared thoughtfully at the cherry on his cigar.

It does my Italian heart good to see young men eat like that, the cook said as he walked behind the bar and filled two cups with beer. Looks like we might be the only ones left to finish the beer.

On that note, I better try to find that crazy cousin of mine before the night’s over, Lawrence said as he stood and walked toward the house. Hang tight, Isaac. I’ll be right back.

My name is Anthony, the cook said as he put his hand out.

I’m Isaac, and that good fellow is my buddy Lawrence, Isaac said, shaking the cook’s hand.

You boys from around here? Anthony asked as he grabbed an iron poker from beside the stone fireplace and vigorously began stirring the glowing embers in the hearth.

I was born in Hawaii, but raised in American Samoa where my family owns a small, but very successful shipping business.

What are you doing clear over here in Arizona? Anthony asked as he wiped the bar with a sponge he pulled from a bucket of warm soapy water.

Going to college.

Does your family visit often?

My father died a few years ago and now my mother and older brother run the company, Isaac answered somberly as he gazed into the fire. They don’t have much free time.

You have no interest in assisting?

My mother and I never could see eye to eye on anything, and after my father died, the only mediator we had was my brother, who suggested that maybe time and space might improve the relationship between her and me.

I’ve never heard you talk so much in the two years I’ve known you, Lawrence said disbelievingly as he walked under the veranda. Who woke you up?

Did you find your crazy cousin? Anthony asked.

No. I can’t understand it. She said she was having the party, and now, the place is completely cleared out.

Wait a minute, Anthony barked. Is Jocelyn your cousin?

Yea, man.

Jocelyn does live here, Anthony said.

Then where is she? Lawrence asked as he looked around the yard.

Should be home shortly, Anthony said assuredly as he glanced at his watch.

I better not have any more, Isaac said uneasily as he slid his beer cup away.

Oh, I didn’t see Kelly and her friends, Lawrence said. They must have found another ride.

Isaac merely shrugged his shoulders, saying nothing.

Do you boys have to be somewhere important tomorrow? Anthony asked.

No. No school, no practice, Lawrence replied.

Practice? Anthony asked with raised eyebrows.

We’re both on the wrestling team.

You look like wrestlers, that’s for sure, Anthony said approvingly. But listen, fellas, the girls like it when there’s a few people around to party with after they get off work, so why don’t you just stay the night? Hell, there’s more than enough room, and it is Jocelyn’s birthday.

Oh man, I forgot all about that, Lawrence said.

Then it’s settled? Anthony asked.

Lawrence, you know we’re in training, Isaac reminded sternly. And shouldn’t we at least ask Jocelyn first?

Who is that fine-looking brother? shouted a woman from the terrace.

Lawrence smiled, turned, and walking toward the female, yelled, Happy birthday, cousin.

They locked in a tight embrace, then Lawrence pulled back, asking mockingly, Now, how old are you?

Hey, fool, you’re right behind me, Jocelyn said as she squeezed his biceps. Check out the muscles. You been working out?

Come on over here, woman, I want you to meet someone, Lawrence said as he put his arm around Jocelyn’s shoulders, guiding her over to where Isaac sat. Isaac, this is Jocelyn.

Isaac gave Jocelyn a dazzling smile and she said, My, my. You are a handsome devil.

Glad to meet you, Isaac said as he bowed his head and shook her hand.

Jocelyn smiled, saying, He’s got manners too. Glad to see you hanging out with good folks, cousin. Jocelyn walked around the bar, next to Anthony, asking, I see you’ve met Anthony.

I’ve been trying to talk them into staying the night, but not having much luck, Anthony said. By the way, where’s Morgan?

Oh, Anthony, Jocelyn said seriously. It was a terrible night. We had to kick Nick and three of his friends out. Morgan is so done with him.

Fighting? Anthony asked sadly.

Fighting. Bringing minors in and buying them drinks. Selling drugs out front and smoking pot in the bathroom, said another woman as she approached the veranda.

There was a time when you were one of those people, Anthony said humorously as the woman walked over and kissed his cheek.

Her rich laughter was enchanting, and as she came into Isaac’s view, he inhaled deeply, becoming oblivious to what was being said around him. Slowly leaning back on his bar stool, into the shadows, he fervently observed the woman he believed was a few years older than him.

Her glistening blond hair was up in a bouffant. Her eyebrows were thin, arching perfectly over sparkling eyes, which Isaac thought to be the most beautiful shade of blue he’d ever seen. Her perky little nose curved up slightly, giving her a somewhat pretentious look, and her lips were full and moist. Isaac moved his eyes down her neck, along her defined collarbone, admiring her straight shoulders that glowed a golden brown. The black halter top she wore fit like a glove, enhancing her supple-looking breasts. Her femininely muscular tan arms were effeminately attractive, and as her small hands reached for a beer, Isaac couldn’t help but notice how elegant her slender fingers looked as they wrapped around the plastic cup. Her fingernails were meticulously manicured with pink glitter polish, similar to the lipstick she wore. As she turned and passed by him, the soft scent of cherry perfume engulfed his nostrils.

Stone-faced, Isaac’s eyes followed her intently as he slowly spun his bar stool in her direction. The black halter top rested against her flat stomach, matching her short skirt. Her tan shapely thighs and long legs were muscular, and her petite feet were donned in low-heeled black thong sandals. She briefly bent over to look down at the grill, and gazing lustfully at her round buttocks, Isaac puckered his lips, inhaling deeply, then blew his breath out quietly.

We’ll get together another time, Isaac heard Jocelyn say.

No, man. We don’t have to leave, Isaac muttered.

What, now all of a sudden you want to stay? Lawrence asked incredulously.

Yes, and could I please get another beer? Isaac replied as he turned his bar stool back to the bar.

New friends of yours, Anthony? Morgan asked curiously as she walked next to Jocelyn.

Morgan, this is Lawrence, you know, the cousin I was telling you about and his friend Isaac.

Morgan showed a straight set of white teeth as she smiled and said, Glad to finally meet you, Lawrence. Heard a lot of good things about you, and Isaac, is it?

Isaac stared at her radiant smile, but remained aloof as he took her hand. Slowly raising his eyes to lock with hers, he said in his husky baritone, Hello.

Slightly unsettled by the way the handsome young man peered at her, Morgan quickly released Isaac’s hand and said, Anthony, I’m starved.

There’s more chicken in the fridge, Anthony replied as he headed for the house.

So we’re staying? Lawrence asked.

Yes, Isaac responded coolly as he continued to stare at Morgan.

Morgan, aren’t you cold? Jocelyn asked as she buttoned up her lavender sweater.

I was so undone after we closed all I managed to grab were my car keys, Morgan replied as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Isaac stood up, took his suit coat off, and gently placed it around Morgan’s shoulders.

Thanks, Morgan said sweetly.

We need a bigger fire, Jocelyn said.

Let me do that, Isaac said as he moved Jocelyn out of the way and squatted down by the wood.

Isaac, I’m gonna move my car closer to the house, Lawrence said as he stood.

Watch out for rattlesnakes and coyotes, Isaac jokingly piped over his shoulder.

Lawrence paused in midstride, and looking hesitantly out into the night, he mumbled, Better not be no damn rattlesnake or coyote gonna mess with me, man. He then began to strut arrogantly toward the house.

I’m going to get the grill started, Morgan said.

No way, Jocelyn said as she poured beer into a cup then handed it to Morgan. You ran your ass off tonight, she continued as she walked over to the grill.

Jocelyn, stop. It’s your birthday, Morgan said sincerely.

And a wonderful day it was, now leave me be, Jocelyn retorted firmly. Oh, by the way, she said, pointing to her ankle. Thanks for the birthday present.

You are welcome, Morgan said as she looked down at the lovely and colorful butterfly tattoo she had paid for.

Settling in her stool, eagerly drinking her beer, Morgan keenly watched Isaac throw wood on the fire. His full wavy black hair was to his shoulders, and Morgan thought how some women would pay dearly to have those soft-looking curly locks atop their head. Slowly moving her eyes downward, she amorously watched his biceps and broad shoulders straining against his dress shirt as he moved around. When he abruptly stood facing her, Morgan couldn’t help but compare him to an exquisite life-sized sculpture of a man she had seen as a child in a museum many years ago.

The fire quickly brightened the veranda, and completely mesmerized by his magnetism, Morgan focused on his long thick lashes that were so dark, it gave the illusion he wore liner. Looking deeply into his rich amber eyes that went so well with his olive complexion, Morgan suddenly realized just how handsome he truly was. His cheekbones were high, and the line of his square jaw was directly in proportion with his straight nose that widened out to large nostrils. Even though his top lip was thinner than the bottom, they lay together perfectly, accenting the contours of his shapely capacious mouth. Morgan instantly became conscious of the overwhelming air of arrogance surrounding his whole demeanor, and her heartbeat increased dramatically as she recalled his initial amorous appraisal of her. Now, with the warmth of the fire, along with lack of food, physical exhaustion, and stress, the large cup of beer she consumed in a very short time took effect immediately, putting her in a relaxed and comfortable state of mind and manner.

Your skin is so dark, Morgan said as she lightly ran one of her fingernails over his large hand. What nationality are you, Isaac?

The slight contact between the two was like an electrical shock, and Isaac was sure she felt it too for she gasped softly, quickly moving her hand back. Feigning indifference to the jolt, Isaac replied nonchalantly, I’m Native American, Irish and Jewish from my father’s side, and my mother is American, French-Polynesian and Portuguese.

Wow, Morgan said innocently. That explains why you look like you do.

What is that supposed to mean? Isaac asked sharply.

Yea, Morgan. Jocelyn laughed as she scraped the grill with a steel brush. What’s that supposed to mean?

Flustered, Morgan began to stutter. I-I-I simply meant that… that, well—

Isaac interrupted, saying obstinately, I didn’t take you for the kind of woman that puts labels on people, but I guess when you get to be your age, it can’t be helped.

Mentally worn down, anger and hurt overtook Morgan’s usual good sense and cheerful nature. Completely self-conscious of how tired she must look after the busy, rough night at the club, she defensively snapped back as she hopped off her bar stool, Fortunately, I’m old and wise enough to know the difference between a man and a boy. Good night, Jocelyn, and happy birthday.

Good night! Jocelyn cried disbelievingly as she stopped what she was doing to look back at Morgan. Wait a minute, where are you going?

To bed, Morgan snapped.

Morgan? Jocelyn pleaded.

I assure you, I’m no boy! Isaac shouted.

Fuck off, Morgan hissed as she flung his coat back at him.

Hold on, you, Isaac barked as he jumped out from behind the bar, and grabbing Morgan’s elbow, he spun her around effortlessly.

Take your hands off me, she said as she tried to push him away. Between Nick and now you, I’ve definitely had enough for one night. Damn it, let me go. She cried as she continued to try and worm herself out of Isaac’s hold.

Come on, guys, Jocelyn begged. Let’s just get something to eat and then go to bed.

You big buffoon, you better take your damn hands off me or else, Morgan said viciously as she wiggled and twisted, but she couldn’t wrench her arm free from his grasp.

Never before would he have prevented such an ill-mannered, mean, vulgar-mouthed witch from leaving his presence, but there was something about this beautiful woman that felt warmer and softer than any he’d held before, and there had been quite a few. He twisted her arm behind her back, and pulling her tightly up to his chest, he whispered huskily into her ear as his lips lightly touched her neck, Or else what, Morgan?

Isaac, Jocelyn! Anthony yelled frantically from the back patio. Something is terribly wrong with Lawrence out front. Please, please come quickly.

Isaac released Morgan, explosively sprinting toward the back door and through the house.

What do you mean? Jocelyn cried as she dropped the steel brush and ran after Isaac.

Isaac stopped on the front lawn as he recognized Lawrence’s car in the drive. Wondering what had become of his friend, he finally spotted Lawrence kneeling down on the road, clutching his stomach. Next to him, another man’s body lay stretched out motionless. A second man stood watching as a third man proceeded to jab Lawrence with a baseball bat.

You feel like Rodney King, boy? yelled the man with the bat.

Fuck you, Lawrence grunted, spewing blood out of his mouth that had flowed down from his bleeding nose.

He ain’t acting very respectful, Frankie. Give him more, said the second man.

I believe you’re right, Joey, especially after what he’s done to Vinny over there, Frankie said as he swung the bat into Lawrence’s back.

Lawrence arched his back after the strike, then wincing in pain, fell forward to the ground.

Lawrence! Jocelyn screamed.

Get back! Isaac shouted as he firmly pushed Jocelyn away from the road.

What do we have here? Frankie asked as he tapped the bat in his cupped hand.

Alarmed that Lawrence was not moving, Isaac yelled, Lawrence man, can you hear me?

Hey, Joey, Frankie blurted out. Kick the dog and see if he yelps.

Joey swung his leg back and, bringing his large booted foot forward, kicked Lawrence directly in the ribs, evoking a low moan from the still body. Joey then pointed to the other man lying on the ground and said, Look what that black son of a bitch did to our friend.

Is that right? Isaac murmured.

Lawrence? Jocelyn cried softly.

Is that the dog’s bitch? Frankie snidely asked.

I knew I recognized your voice, Jocelyn suddenly blurted vehemently.

What the hell is going on here? Isaac snapped.

These are the men Morgan kicked out of the club, Jocelyn replied disgustedly. So where is your fearless leader? Passed out in the car, or should I say hiding like the coward he is?

Fuck you, Frankie growled.

Fuck you, Jocelyn retorted vehemently.

Let’s get ‘em, Frankie, Joey drunkenly said as he staggered toward Isaac.

Put the bat down, man, Isaac said sternly as he purposely moved in between Jocelyn and Frankie.

Frankie lifted the bat above his head with both arms and let out a cry as he lunged toward Isaac. Isaac ducked and shot in for a takedown, his solid body crashing into his attacker forcefully. The bat flew out of Frankie’s hands as his head and body bounced violently on the dirt road. Isaac jumped up, ready for another attack, but Frankie only screamed, cradling his head between his forearms, rocking back and forth on his buttocks.

In a valiant attempt to try and stop Joey from attacking Isaac from behind, Lawrence stretched out his arm despite the great pain it caused in his back and grabbed the man’s ankle. Joey drunkenly fell to the ground before he reached Isaac, who was wasting no time in kicking the bat that lay at Frankie’s side across the road. Isaac then hustled over to Lawrence.

I don’t feel so good, Lawrence groaned as he gingerly swung his arm around Isaac’s neck. Isaac wrapped his arm around Lawrence’s waist as Jocelyn immediately joined in the effort by copying Isaac’s hold.

They jumped me, Lawrence muttered. Pretended to be hurt in the ditch. I-I— Lawrence’s chin then fell to his chest.

I don’t know if I’m strong enough, Jocelyn said in tears as she struggled to hang on to Lawrence without falling.

Just keep moving, Isaac barked as he too strained to move forward with Lawrence’s unconscious body.

Freeze, you bastards.

Fuck off! Isaac yelled over his shoulder.

A gunshot stopped Isaac and Jocelyn in their tracks.

Turn the fuck around now, or I swear I’ll shoot you all in the back.

Slowly and carefully, with Lawrence still in their grasp, Isaac and Jocelyn turned.

Why are you doing this?Jocelyn cried.

Despite Frankie being extremely intoxicated, the aim of the automatic pistol he held did not waver and he yelled, Where is boss bitch that kicked us out?

Flabbergasted, Jocelyn yelled back, You guys were completely out of control. Morgan had no other choice.

Where is she? Frankie growled as he fired a shot.

The bullet hit Isaac in the leg, and he yelped, falling to the grass. Unable to hold on to her cousin alone, Jocelyn screamed for help as she and Lawrence collapsed next to Isaac.

Let’s see how tough boss bitch is without her bouncers. Where is she? Frankie shouted.

I’m right here.

You fucking bitch, Frankie sneered as he felt the barrel of a gun on the back of his head.

Call me that one more time, and I’ll shoot your foot off, Morgan said irritably. Now, put the gun down.

Unsure if Morgan’s threat was genuine or if she was even capable, Frankie hissed, You don’t have the guts.

Throw it, Morgan demanded as she tightened the barrel up to his head.

Reluctantly, Frankie obeyed.

Good boy, Morgan said, slowly backing away. You guys just couldn’t let it go, now you’re in serious trouble.

Look out, Morgan! Jocelyn screamed.

Morgan turned just in time to see Joey sprinting toward her, and she fired, hitting him in the shoulder. He slowly fell to his knees holding one hand over the wound while his other arm dangled uselessly at his side.

She shot me. I can’t believe she shot me, Joey mumbled.

I’ll shoot you again if you don’t stay put, Morgan said as she circled around to finally stand in front of her friends. Jocelyn, go call the police.

Jocelyn took off like a bat out of hell toward the house.

Nick has gone too far this time, Morgan told Frankie angrily. Like always though, he gets out of it while someone else pays the price.

Nick said he didn’t care how much damage we caused as long as Anthony wasn’t around, Frankie said with an evil grin on his face.

Oh, but I am around, Anthony said as he approached the road with Jocelyn in hand.

Ah, Anthony sir, ah, we… ah… we were told you were out of town, Frankie said nervously as he stood straight, backing up to where Joey knelt. Get up man, get up, he said as he pulled firmly on Joey’s good arm.

Look what you have done, Anthony said as he spread his arms. You need to leave immediately.

Yes sir, Mr. Anthony sir. Whatever you say, sir, Frankie replied respectfully.

Don’t ever come back here or the club. Not ever. Is that clear? Anthony commanded somberly.

Yes, sir, Frankie said as he helped Joey into the Jeep that had been cloaked in darkness.

You’re going to just let them drive off? Morgan asked in a sharp tone.

Please, Morgan, be quiet, Anthony said calmly as he pointed to Vinny. Don’t forget this one over here and try to find your gun in the ditch.

Frankie put his hands under Vinny’s armpits, dragging him to the Jeep. After unceremoniously dumping him inside, he limped over to the ditch. Several minutes passed before he located the gun, then after sticking it in the waist of his pants, jumped into the Jeep.

I can feel you glaring at me, Morgan, Anthony said as he continued to watch the vehicle’s taillights disappear around a curve. Regardless of what you think, I am looking out for your best interests. Now let’s get these boys in the house.

Appalled, Jocelyn cried, The house? Anthony, they need to go to a hospital.

Jocelyn is right, and—

No, Anthony interrupted curtly. I don’t want any trouble with the police, and despite the neighbors being miles away, I’m sure one of them have called on the shots fired, so we don’t have much time.

Morgan and Jocelyn just stared at each other.

Do you trust me? Anthony asked.

The girls did not reply.

Well, do you? Anthony insisted crossly.

Of course, but—

Anthony cut Morgan off and said, Okay then. This isn’t going to be easy, so we best get started.

Damn, look at all the blood, Jocelyn wailed as she pointed to Isaac’s leg.

Anthony, let’s take them to a hospital, Morgan demanded.

Unruffled, Anthony said, Morgan, go get three sheets out of the linen closet.

Morgan was about to interrupt, but Anthony put his hand up and barked loudly, Just do it, Morgan, and put that damn gun away.

Several moments later, the trio managed to get one sheet under Lawrence, then using that as a gurney, slid him across the yard and into the house. Fifteen minutes later, they were back for Isaac. Once inside the elevator, Anthony held the door open, asking Jocelyn to wipe the blood off the foyer floor as well as spray the stepping-stones and grass out front. Jocelyn quickly jumped out of the elevator, heading for the linen closet with a purpose.

Breathing heavily, Anthony said, Let’s put Isaac in the bedroom next to Lawrence.

No, Morgan snapped as she gently smoothed a piece of Isaac’s damp hair away from his drenched brow. I want him in my room.

That will really push Nick over the edge, Anthony replied.

Morgan stood up and said aggressively, I don’t give a damn what Nick thinks. You should have seen how disgracefully he was acting at the club. Groping the dancers, ripping their clothes, why, he even threw drinks at the dancers onstage! If the electrical equipment onstage had blown, what a catastrophe that would have been. I love you, Anthony, but Nick has got to go. You are never going to find anyone to properly manage the club as long as Nick thinks he has the run of the place, and if you do, it won’t be for long because with all the dope they’re selling out front, the police will have the place closed down in no time. He even had the nerve to walk behind the bar and take money out of the cash register, Anthony—

The elevator opened as it reached the second level, and Anthony interrupted, Enough. I get the picture.

Morgan drew her head back with nostrils flared and said, You know the only time we disagree is when Nick has done—

He interrupted again, saying softly, I am aware of all you say, now let’s just get this kid to bed.

In minutes, they were through Morgan’s bedroom door, past her waiting room, and finally, next to her king-size bed.

This is the hard part, Anthony said as he took hold of Isaac’s armpit. Grab his arm and on three, lift. One, two, threee…

Isaac let out a bellow the whole valley must have heard as Morgan and Anthony crumbled to the bed on top of him, Morgan’s knee accidentally jabbing his leg directly on his wound.

Genuinely mortified, Morgan cried, Isaac, I’m so sorry.

Isaac curled into a ball, and Anthony said loudly, That’s no good, buddy. You got to straighten out. Isaac, straighten that leg out.

Ohh, fuck, it hurts! Isaac yelled between clenched teeth as he slowly stretched his leg.

The beige berber carpet that covered the entire floor, the cream-colored walls, the white silken bedspread adorning her magnificent wooden four-poster canopy bed, and almost everything else they came into contact with was stained or drenched with blood, especially the sheet around Isaac’s leg. Slightly traumatized by the dramatic contrast between the soft colors of her room and the dark red substance draining from Isaac’s body, Morgan fought to keep hold on her emotions and again pleaded, Can we please take him to a hospital?

No. Isaac’s hoarse voice boomed as he raised his head and shoulders off the pillow. Wincing in pain, he fell back on the pillow. No fucking hospitals. Don’t want the team to look bad. Don’t want my mother finding out. Please, Morgan, promise me.

Sweat dripped down his face and neck. His eyes were glazed, his pupils were dilated, and Morgan whispered, Isaac, I’m afraid for you.

A smile split his face, then he said, Promise me.

I’m not going to let you die, Isaac, so no, I will not promise, Morgan said.

I don’t feel so good. Wait. Where the hell is Lawrence? Isaac said as he tried to rise, but sharp pain gripped his leg and again he collapsed on the bed.

Oh no, Morgan cried.

He just passed out, Anthony said reassuringly as he opened Isaac’s left eyelid. You raise his leg about a foot, get his pants off, and gently wash around the wound with a warm washcloth. I’ll be right back.

Where are you going? Morgan asked nervously.

I’m going to check on Lawrence then make a phone call, Anthony said as he walked toward the doorway.

Make a phone call? It’s three in the morning, Morgan said as she looked at the small alarm clock on the end table next to her bed.

With a broken heart and troubled mind, Anthony did not respond as he walked out the door. Crossing the hall and softly opening the door to Lawrence’s room, he was relieved to see the young man coherently talking to Jocelyn. Gently closing the door, he headed for the elevator. Once the elevator reached the first floor, he walked back to his bedroom, sat down on the end of his bed, and dialed the phone.

It is I, Anthony said tiredly. Yes, I know what time it is… Because I need you to come to the house at once… Yes now. Would I call if it… No, it’s much worse… Bullet wounds, baseball bats… No… No, damn it! Look, I’m sorry… just please, it’s been an awful evening… Damn, I tell you I’m sorry. Yes, that would be wonderful, he said more gently. You still have a key. Great. We’ll be waiting upstairs, and thank you.

Hanging up the phone, he sighed in relief, but suddenly he grimaced as he leaned forward, clutching his arm as severe pain overtook it, and his chest again.

CHAPTER TWO

Dressed in an expensive trench coat that somewhat hid the fact she wore pajamas, the attractive forty-seven-year-old woman slowly folded the blood pressure cuff, and put it back into her medical bag. Her olive skin was still flawless, her jet-black hair was up in a tight bun and her dark brown eyes continued to scrutinize Lawrence as she removed the stethoscope from around her neck.

Very well, where’s the next patient? she asked.

Your exam didn’t take very long, Maria, Anthony said suspiciously. Are you sure nothing is seriously wrong or broken?

Without X-rays, it’s difficult to say, she said as she leaned back into her chair.

What about his beautiful face, Doc? Jocelyn asked in a hushed tone.

"He might have a small scar or two, but nothing requiring cosmetic surgery. I want you to keep applying this salve twice a day, but make sure it’s a thin layer and wash the old off before applying the new. For the next couple of days though, he’s not going to look or feel