At Their Own Game (13 page)

“I didn’t think so,” I said. “So you see where we’re at now, tough guy?”
 

Peter struggled to his feet. “You son of a bitch,” he huffed. “I’m going to—”
 

“Stop, Dad,” Falkner said, his voice cold with anger.
 

Peter wheeled around to face him. “Kyle, did you see what he did to me?” He held up his palms, which were scraped and bleeding. “Do you see this?”
 

Falkner nodded. “I saw it all. But now is not the time. Let him go.”
 

“Let him…
what?
”
 

“You heard me.”
 

“He needs to go to jail for this!” Peter yelled at Falkner and pointed at me. “He attacked me without provocation. He’s a goddamn menace!”
 

“I know,” Falkner said. He lowered his gun and replaced it in its holster. “Now let him go.”
 

Peter stood in disbelief for another long moment, then sighed and limped away from me toward Falkner. He glanced over his shoulder at me. “My attorney will hear about this,” he snarled. “You wait and see.”
 

I didn’t reply.
 

Falkner waited until Peter was out of earshot, then motioned toward my car. “So? Get in your piece of shit car and take that cunt with you.”
 

A red ball of hate exploded in my mind, and I took a step toward him. Only the smirk on his lips stopped me from charging at him and pummeling him until he was unrecognizable.
 

You’re not smarter than me,
I thought.
You might have more power, but you’re not smarter.
 

“I gave Burke a message for you,” I said.
 

“Burke who?” He asked sarcastically.
 

“I’m sure you already got the message, so here’s the follow up:  give up.”
 

“Give what up?”
 

“Give me up. You’ll never get me on anything, Falkner. You don’t have enough time in a day, and you’re not smart enough. So let it go, and leave me alone.”
 

“Or what?”
 

“Or I’ll fucking destroy you.”
 

Falkner actually smiled. “Oh, that’s rich,” he said. “That is just rich.”
 

“I mean it.”
 

“I’m sure you do. Now run along.”
 

He turned away from me and headed back to the church.
 

I watched him go until he disappeared inside the church doors. Then I went to my car.
 

Helen unlocked the driver’s side door and I slid into the seat.
 

“Are you all right?” I asked her.
 

She gave me a curt nod. “You?”
 

“Yeah,” I said, though the truth was, I didn’t know if things just got better or worse.
 

“Take me home,” Helen said. “Please.”
 

I couldn’t think of anything better to do, so I did as she asked.
 

FOURTEEN
 

Helen made it until we got through the front door of my house before she started crying. I was barely through the door when she turned and buried her face in my chest. Her arms wrapped around me and squeezed tight.
 

Surprised, I still had the sense of mind to return her embrace. The sobs that she had obviously suppressed at the church came rolling out, muffled only by my chest. I stood just inside the open front door and held her. I stroked her hair and whispered that everything was all right.
 

She cried like that for a solid five minutes before the sobs began to subside. Finally, she pulled her face away from my chest and looked up at me.
 

“Thank you,” she breathed.
 

I nodded back at her.
 

She smiled at me through her tears. “I mean it. No one has ever stood up for me before. At least not to him.”
 

“No one?”
 

She shook her head. “Not a soul. All Kyle ever did was join in on Dad’s side.”
 

“I can definitely see that happening.”
 

Helen started chuckling to herself. Then the chuckles increased and she broke into all out laughter.
 

“What?” I asked her, smiling myself.
 

She kept laughing for a little while. Then she said, “Watching Dad go sprawling onto the pavement was priceless.”
 

My smile broadened. After all of his arrogance and bluster, and God knows what all he did to Helen, it was pretty sweet to put him on his face.
 

“Well, karma can be a bitch,” I said. “And I have a feeling he had some coming.”
 

“Oh, yeah. He was definitely due.” Helen’s laughter slowly tapered off.
 

I reached behind us and closed the front door. Helen and I wandered into the kitchen. I poured us each a drink. We toasted silently and each sipped.
 

I leaned back against the counter and closed my eyes. The entire scene inside the church and then outside in the parking lot replayed in my mind. I doubted that Peter Trammell would do much in the way of retaliation but Falkner was another matter. Not that the guy needed any further motivation but showing up with Helen and then facing him down like that was sure to cement his desire for revenge. With everything else going on right now, that was the last thing I needed.
 

As if she could hear my thoughts, Helen crossed a short distance between us and leaned her head close to mine. “Neither of them gave you any choice,” she whispered.
 

I shrugged. “There’s always a choice.”
 

“There’s not always an
acceptable
choice.” She gave me a soft kiss on the neck. “You did the right thing.”
 

I thought about it for a moment. “You’re right. What else was I supposed to do?”
 

“There’s nothing you could have done differently. People like my father always push. And Kyle… well, he’s a whole different thing.” Her fingers toyed with the hair on the back of my neck. She leaned her forehead against my jaw. “That’s what I lived with growing up. And that’s how it was in my marriage.”
 

“Which explains me, I suppose. At the gym, I mean.”
 

She kissed my neck again. “I was lucky to come across you when I did. I think that if I hadn’t discovered you I would have just surrendered to all of it.”
 

“Then why leave? Why not just leave him and be with me?”
 

“I told you already.”
 

“Tell me again.”
 

She pulled her head away and looked up at me. At the same time, she took hold of my face and turned it to meet her gaze. “Knowing you gave me the courage to break free. But I had to go away to learn how to stay free.”
 

I tried to think about that. Tried to put myself into her life. Tried to imagine what the impact of the father’s betrayal would be. Would it be greater for a daughter than a son? I didn’t know.
 

I wanted to believe her. And wanted to believe every word, every touch, every kiss. But it was hard. Everything was happening so fast, and there were too many coincidences. Small worms of doubt burrowed into my chest, wriggling for attention.
 

Helen pulled down on my head, drawing my mouth to hers. I pushed away my concerns and gave myself over to the fire of her kiss. It was answer enough.
 

When it became dark, I pushed aside the blankets and got dressed.
 

Helen stirred. “Where are you going?”
 

“Business.”
 

Helen hesitated, then asked, “You’re not going after… either one of them are you?”
 

“No,” I said. “I’m pretty sure that your father and I are finished. As for Falkner, I figure he’ll come at me when he comes at me. I don’t need to go looking for that kind of trouble.”
 

“Good,” she said, sounding relieved. After a moment, she asked, “Then what?”
 

I debated silently about how to answer that question. Finally I said, “I made a business deal with a guy. He didn’t come through. I need to figure a way to work that out.”
 

“Are you in danger?”
 

“Why would you ask me that?”
 

“I can just tell by the way that you’re acting.”
 

“I’m acting like I’m getting dressed.”
 

“This is the second time you’ve left me alone in this bed at night,” she said.
 

“I don’t plan on making a habit of it.”
 

She was quiet for another moment. Then she asked, “Jake, what kind of business are you in?”
 

“Show business,” I said.
 

“I’m serious.”
 

“So am I. I play three nights a week down at Gibliano Brothers piano bar. It’s a great gig.”
 

“You’re not funny. And I’m serious.”
 

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on my boots. “Helen, the less you know about my business, the safer you are.”
 

She was quiet while I laced and tied my boots. When I stood up, she whispered, “I knew it was something like that.”
 

“It’s not a big deal,” I said. “Nobody gets hurt. I’m not a bad guy.”
 

“No,” she said. “I know you’re not.”
 

I left her in the bedroom.
 

On my way out of the house, I thought about bringing my gun. I even paused in the kitchen next to the drawer where I kept it. But this was to be a scouting expedition, not a fight. With Falkner crawling up my ass, every trip ran the risk of getting stopped by the cops. I could own a pistol since my convictions were for misdemeanors and not felonies. But I didn’t have a
concealed weapons permit so carrying a gun in the car or somewhere on me was illegal. I wasn’t about to give Falkner a slam dunk.
 

During the few moments I spent considering this, Helen appeared in the bedroom doorway. Her body was draped in a sheet.
 

“I’m not just here, Jake,” she said. “I’m here for you.”
 

I took a deep breath and nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Okay.”
 

FIFTEEN
 

I knew that Ozzy worked out of a convenience store on East Mission Avenue. I didn’t know if he owned the place or not but he spent time there in the tiny office in the back. As I drove to the store, I found myself appreciating the wisdom of his choice. No one questions the traffic in and out of a convenience store. He could do whatever kind of business he wanted with little fear of attracting attention. And if he happened to own a piece of the store, too, that was just gravy.
 

The nice part about it was that it was equally as easy to sit off a convenience store unnoticed. I found an open spot in front of a residence almost a block away. I parked and turned off the engine. Then I leaned back and watched the Circle K.
 

I spotted Randall’s truck parked at the side of the building. That didn’t necessarily mean Ozzy was there but I figured the odds were good.
 

Vehicle and foot traffic was heavy, but everyone looked like a customer. Several looked seedy enough to have business with Ozzy but I saw no evidence that they were there for anything other than beer and cigarettes.
 

I touched the bridge of my nose where it was still tender. My mind worked through the problem in front of me. I tried to think of a way to force Ozzy to return our money. There didn’t seem to be many options. Like I told Matt and Brent, it wasn’t like we could go to the police. Negotiating hadn’t worked. The obvious answer was violence.
 

I didn’t want that, which was exactly why I’d stayed small-time and in the property crimes arena. With dopers, the risk of violence and informers were too high.
 

Ozzy had been involved in the dope scene for at least a couple of years. Violence might not be a daily event for
him and Randall but I knew they were no strangers to it. The people they dealt with didn’t understand subtlety. They understood a smack to the head. Or worse.
 

Besides, I think he liked the violence.
 

I wondered how many guys he had on his payroll. I wasn’t terribly worried about people who muled for him but what about the dealers? He was more of a wholesale guy, so how loyal were the guys he sold to? My guess was not very. But if he needed muscle, would they throw in? And how much muscle did he employ directly?
 

Ozzy knew who I was. He knew all of us. If we stole our money back from him, whether by stealth or force, he’d know it. And he would come after us for daring to do that.
 

That didn’t leave many options.
 

I smiled a little, remembering what Helen said about whether an option was acceptable or not. True, she said choice but the concept is the same.
 

Time passed. Cars came and went. Beer, gas, and cigarettes flowed from the Circle K. Randall’s truck didn’t move.
 

The longer I sat, the more my mind drifted toward Helen. Her explanation for leaving made more sense to me every minute. I imagined her escaping a house full of sexual abuse and sliding right into a house with the ultra-controlling exactitude of Kyle Falkner to contend with. It couldn’t have been easy.
 

So did she use me to break free of that situation?
 

Yeah, I decided. She did. No question. I was a tool. A means to an end.