The Eternal Engagement (18 page)

CHAPTER 43

Lincoln

 

K
atherine wasn't serious about visiting him, was she?

Lincoln sat in his room watching anything except football. Just in case she was, he texted Mona,
Plans changed. Don't come now. Wait until I contact you with the okay.
His text wasn't a request. It was a demand. To make sure he didn't receive her calls or texts, Lincoln blocked Mona's number.

Next week would be better to talk to her. He'd be in his apartment. She could help him pick out furniture for his place. And he could kiss Mona Lisa one last time. If he honestly had a chance to get his family back, they were his priority. He'd have to find a job to support them. Hopefully one he could keep without getting fired. But would getting a job mean he'd have to give up his housing voucher? He'd better check with his Prime Care doctor first. The government had too many hidden rules in their manuals.

Lincoln turned on his radio, danced in front of the television. His combat boots were strapped to his feet. His dick slapped thigh to thigh. He only removed his shoes to shower and sleep. The room wasn't that big but, “Sleeping on fresh sheets every day beats the hell out of sleeping on the street,” he said, moonwalking on the carpet. More than being happy, he was grateful his life was looking up. Plus....

Downing two sleeping pills with a cola, he prayed he'd fall asleep before sunrise. He stared at himself in the mirror. Despite his trials and obstacles, his abs and ass were tighter than ever. His chocolate thighs and muscular biceps were well defined. Neither his hair nor skin looked or felt as good as it used to, but it was getting there. He had housekeeping leave him extra lotion, shampoo, and conditioner. A trip to the barbershop and one of them spa treatments wouldn't hurt either.

Opening the newspaper, he pulled out the classifieds. Maybe he could get on with that seafood company over on Shilshole Ave. They had over six thousand employees. Surely they could benefit from his strength and skills. Or he could get a desk job at the Veteran's Administration. They owed him that much.

His cell phone rang. He checked the ID. “Hey, this is a surprise,” he said.

“Katherine gave me your number,” she said.

“Wow, Katherine did that? That was nice of her. Grandma, how are you?”

“If I wasn't in this hospital bed, I'd come to wherever you are and beat your behind, young man. Why haven't you called us? Were we that bad of grandparents that you left here and never called, or wrote, or sent us a picture? Your mama said you never called her, either. Nobody's heard from you. Not even Katherine and your son. Oh, Lincoln, he looks just like you. Don't be like your daddy was. Your son needs you. What's wrong, baby? Don't you know we love you?”

Shaking his head, he was not forgiving his father for taking the easy way out. For the first time in years, he cried. He wept so loud and hard, it was hard for him to swallow. “I love you too, Grandma.”

The things he'd gone through weren't her fault. What he'd experienced overseas he wouldn't wish on the enemy. And he would tell. No one would believe any human beings could be that cruel.

“Baby, you hush. Ain't no reason for you to be crying. Now, I'm calling you 'cause I want you to come see me. This ole bag of bones might not see the New Year roll in, and your grandfather and I want pictures with our grand and great-grand together before the Lord calls me home. They're sending me home tomorrow. Said there's not much else they can do for me here. Promise me you'll come see me.”

Lincoln wiped his eyes, his nose, his jaw, his eyes again. He sniffled. “I promise, Grandma. I promise.”

When he thought no one loved him, he learned that was a decision he'd made. Not them.

CHAPTER 44

Steven

 

 

M
aybe his mom was right about Katherine being a good woman. Familiarity made him comfortable with the idea. He could lure Katherine in like he'd done with Mona. Get her so intertwined in his past that she'd be the ball connected to his chain. He might go down. She'd go down faster. He didn't want it that way, but he had to give the woman with him a reason not to turn him in if she discovered his truth.

Steven sat in his recliner. It was ten o'clock in Selma. He'd take a chance. He needed an adult to talk to other than his mother. He dialed Katherine's number.

The phone rang four times before she answered, “Hey, Steven. Happy Thanksgiving.”

This was the first time Katherine's voice sounded sweet and sultry. “Hey, I was calling to say I'm thankful for your help on the Sarah case.”

Somberly she said, “You haven't heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Sarah got the death penalty. I reported it yesterday. You think she really did it?”

Damn. What he'd detected in Katherine's voice wasn't sultriness, it was sadness. “Nah, I hadn't heard the news. That's horrible. Guess I've been too busy dealing with my own problems.”

“I've been trying to figure out where Sarah got the money from. That's the main thing Davenport is holding on to. Why Calvin? Why Sarah? Why—”

Steven interrupted. “Compared to what's happening with Sarah and your long list of questions, my situation is starting to look up. My best advice is, don't get involved at all.”

Now he had to keep in touch with Katherine. She was too curious. If she started probing for answers, she might find out that his name was indirectly attached to all those cashier's checks.

She laughed a little melodically. “Listen at me. You're the one who called me.”

Could a woman of Katherine's caliber genuinely fall for him? He'd have to develop a strategy to reel her in. He'd start with trying to make her sympathetic. Women were natural nurturers, especially mothers.

Sadly, he said, “Mona left me. I thought she was coming back, but I don't know where she is.”

“So that's why she called me.”

His voice escalated. “Mona called you? For what?”

“She said she had some urgent information for Lincoln. She wouldn't tell me what it was. I'm not a high school teenager anymore, Steven. I'm a woman. I don't have time to play games.”

Urgent information. That Mona is a great liar
. “So did you give her his number?”

“I had no reason not to. I mean, I hope Lincoln does right by his son even though we haven't gotten married yet. But if Lincoln isn't going to take care of Jeremiah, or make me an honorable woman, I'll have to keep doing the best I can with what I have. My hundred thousand dollar student loan will have to take a backseat to my son's tuition.”

Steven gulped his whiskey. He didn't want to seem too anxious to financially help Katherine. Now that he knew her hook, he'd reel her in slowly. Katherine could be his bait to catch Mona's ass.

“I've got to go. Let's talk soon,” he said, ending their conversation.

For now he was done asking questions of and answering questions for Katherine. Steven went into his bedroom, packed his suitcase. The next time he questioned Katherine would be face-to-face in Selma.

CHAPTER 45

Mona

 

 

T
he number Katherine had given her was scribbled on a notepad in front of her. Anxiously, Mona dialed nine, one, the area code, and the number from the cordless in her hotel room. She paced from the door to the window repeatedly.

“Answer the phone. Come on. Come on,” she said, clenching her fist.

“Thank you for calling the Warwick Hotel,” a woman said.

“What the hell?” Mona said, then hung up.

She was supposed to get Lincoln or his voice mail. She checked the number again, dialed the number again. “If Katherine didn't want to give me the number, all she had to do was say no.”

“Thank you for calling the Warwick Hotel,” a woman said.

Mona hung up. She dialed the number a third time, got the same message, and hung up again. She decided to do what she should've done first. Mona powered on her laptop and logged on to her cell phone account.

Invalid user name or password popped up three times. She called the company and discovered, “At the subscriber's request, we can no longer provide you access or information regarding this account. I'd be happy to start a new account in your name.”

Mona ended the call. She didn't need help with setting up an account over the phone when she didn't have a phone. First thing in the morning, she'd go to the wireless store, open her own account, buy a new phone, and get a new number with a 212 prefix or something so her parents and others wouldn't know where she was unless she wanted them to know.

The more she thought about Steven terminating her number, she thought, “That's a good thing.” Now he couldn't track her whereabouts from her calls.

Mona dialed Katherine's number. “Answer the damn phone!”

Katherine answered. “Mona Lisa, I'm going to ask you to stop calling me. I don't know what you're up to, but whatever it is, I hope what Steven told me isn't true.”

Frowning, Mona hesitated, then said, “If you didn't want to give me Lincoln's number, you shouldn't have.”

“I did give you his number. Don't call me again. If you do, I'm going to the police. Bye,” Katherine said, ending the call.

Going to the what?
“Bitch, you don't know me.” What the hell did Steven tell Katherine? And why was he talking to her anyway?

Mona slammed the cordless on the base. The battery popped out. She didn't care. She wondered how much Katherine knew. And whatever happened to the clothes that Steven said had to be destroyed the night he killed Calvin? There wasn't time to get rid of that evidence. So where'd he put them?

Seattle first. Then Selma. That wasn't the smartest thing to do. Mona should go home first and search Steven's house in Selma.

She sat on the bed.
Her car?
She prayed it wasn't so, but knowing him, that's exactly where he stashed everything.

CHAPTER 46

Katherine

 

H
er decision was finalized.

The suitcase by the door had everything she'd need for her weekend trip to Seattle. Jeremiah's photos and video footage of a few of his games were in her carry-on. She wished she could stay longer than two days, but she had to get back by Sunday to anchor the Monday morning national news on
Morning to You, America.

“Bye, Mama,” she said, giving her mother a hug.

“I wanna go with you,” Jeremiah whined.

“What did I tell you about shortcuts? It's ‘I want to go with you.'”

He stared at her with those eyes just like his daddy's, eyes that pleaded more than words. “Mama, I want to go with you to Atlanta.”

She hated lying to her mother and son, but there was no way she could tell either the truth. “I'll bring you something back.” Hopefully, his dad. “Now, go back to bed. Four o'clock is too early for you to be up.”

Kissing her son, and hugging her mom again, Katherine put her suitcase on the passenger seat, then headed to Montgomery for her connecting flight to Dallas/Fort Worth.

The drive from Selma to Montgomery's Dannelly Field airport was a welcomed hour of solitude. She made sure she drove the speed limit along U.S. 80 for two reasons. One, she feared getting stopped by the police in the dark. Two, she didn't want to collide with any animals.

Parking, checking in, and getting through security consumed more time than her road trip. It was too early to eat; a breakfast sandwich would be cold by the time she was hungry. A club sandwich and a cup of fruit would have to do.

Waiting to board, she dialed the number to the hotel. When the operator answered, Katherine said, “Lincoln, I mean William Lincoln's room, please.”

“Certainly, I'll put you through.”

Confirming he was still a guest, Katherine ended the call before he answered. In eight hours she'd be face-to-face with the man she hadn't seen since high school. Was he the same? Did he look better than when she last saw him? Would he find her equally or more attractive? Would her heart forgive him for abandoning them?

Settling into her seat, Katherine prayed Lincoln had more answers than she had questions.

CHAPTER 47

Lincoln

 

“H
uh. What?”

He sprang from his bed. Squatted. Slapped his face. The inside of his left, then right hand pressed hard from his forehead to his chin. Felt like bugs were crawling on him. Standing tall, he stared at the clock, at the ringing phone, then into the space in front of his face.

Rattling his head, he looked at the clock; it was 2:14 in the afternoon. He picked up the open bottle of sleeping pills that was on the nightstand. He peeped inside. The prescription he'd filled two days ago was all gone. He couldn't have taken the remaining ten pills at once.

“Shut the hell up!” he yelled at the phone. Unable to sleep all night, he'd just dozed off an hour ago. “Damn!” He scratched his stomach.

He went to the bathroom, stood over the toilet, let his dick hang as he emptied his bladder. A red thong was on his vanity with a note.
Thanks, soldier. It was my pleasure serving you.

Shaking himself, the phone rang again. He snatched the phone from the wall. “What!”

The voice on the other end asked, “What room are you in?”

“One, two, one, two, two,” he said, then slammed the phone against the receiver.

Good. Whoever owned that piece of butt floss was coming back to get it.

His phone rang again. “Stop fucking calling me!”

“What room are you in?”

“I just fucking told you, bitch! One, two, one, two, two!” He slammed the phone on the hook.

Wiping his dick with a white towel, he noticed red lipstick smeared on his shaft. “Fuck, Lincoln. Why did you bring that 'ho to your room last night?”

Last night he watched television. Went for a walk to the liquor/grocery store across the street, bought a six-pack of beer and two bottles of tequila. And . . .

“Damnit, Lincoln, you did let that trick convince you to let her suck your dick.”

That probably explained his pills being gone. “Oh, shit!”

He ran into the room, picked up his pants, shoved his hand in one pocket. Empty. Checked the other. Nothing. “Fuck!”

I'm kicking that bitch's ass.
He put on his pants. His underwear and T-shirt were still on the chair. He hurried to the door, jerked it open.

Heaving, he froze. His heart softened. All that angered him dissipated as he stared into her eyes.

“Can I come in?”

He shook his head in disbelief, opened the door wide. Scratching his temple, he said, “I thought you were kidding.” He took her suitcase. “Yes, come in.”

He wanted to say, “You won't believe what just happened to the money you sent me,” but that wasn't appropriate.

“Mind if I use your bathroom?” she asked, pushing open the door.

He dropped the suitcase, jumped in front of her. “I forgot to flush the toilet.” That was the truth, but he really needed to hide that note and that nasty thong.

Lincoln closed the door. Looked around for a safe hiding place. The black bag that the blow dryer was in seemed safest at the moment. After stuffing the prostitute's belongings inside, he tied the drawstring in a military knot, flushed the toilet, then opened the door.

“Why did you call me twice?” he asked, not knowing what else to say to her.

She was still the most gorgeous woman he'd seen. Slightly thicker in the breasts and hips, but he liked it.

“I only called you once,” she said, entering the bathroom.

He called the front desk. “Hold all my calls until I notify you otherwise.”

That trick wasn't slick. But he didn't want her creeping up on him. Nah, she wouldn't come back after stealing his money. Doubted she was that stupid, but he'd find her. And when he did, she'd swear he was her pimp. She had an ass whupping coming from him if she didn't have his cash.

It was a good thing he'd paid for his room in advance. But what about the incidentals he'd incurred. How would he pay for those? There wasn't enough money to cover his extra charges. He could leave without checking out. Or persuade Katherine to take care of his bill.

“Certainly, Mr. Lincoln,” the operator replied.

Lincoln couldn't believe she was standing in front of him. He wanted to hug her, kiss her. He picked her up, twirled her around. “I must be dreaming,” he said, feeling the happiest since the last time he'd seen her. “You hungry? You want to go downstairs to the restaurant and eat? You tired? You want to rest? You want to take a shower? Anything you want to do, anything. Let's do it.”

Katherine sat in the green oversized chair facing the bed. She placed her purse on the magazines scattered on the small round table next to the chair. He wondered how much cash she had on her. Maybe if he made up a story about what happened to the money she'd given him, she'd give him some more.

“Lincoln, why? I need to understand why you never contacted us?” Tears trickled down her cheeks. Katherine wiped her eyes.

He noticed she wasn't wearing the ring he'd given her. Assuming his comfort position in opposition, he sat on the edge of the bed facing her, clamped his hands together, spread his feet six inches apart, then stared at the floor.

“Please don't cry. I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“Doesn't matter what you meant, it's what you did. To me. To our son. Why, Lincoln? I really need to know. And look at me. I have to see your eyes,” she said.

He watched her dry her tears again. He cried like he'd done when his grandmother told him she loved him. Any attempt to gain sympathy was worth the effort.

“Do you love me, Katherine?”

“William Lincoln, please don't make this about you. Please. If you don't want to tell me, say so, and I'll get a separate room, go back to Selma in the morning, and never contact you again. I'm here to get answers, not answer your questions.” She didn't blink. Her eyes were wet, but there were no more tears.

Lincoln wiped his face. “I . . . I . . . I . . . I love you, Katherine. I never meant to . . . I don't know what happened to me.”

More like “I'll never tell you what happened to me,” but based on her tight lips, he doubted she'd care about that either. Vigorously, he shook his head trying to erase the horrible thoughts creeping into his mind. He prayed he didn't have a flashback that triggered a panic attack. She'd just gotten to his room. Didn't want to scare her away.

“If you're done talking, I'm leaving.”

“Fine, you want the whole truth?”

She nodded. Her lips got tighter. Katherine remained silent.

“When you told me you might be pregnant, I thought you were setting me up. Trying to trap me with a child to make sure you got a piece of whatever you thought I was going to get paid.” He stared at the empty space between his feet.

“I'm listening. And I'd appreciate it if you look at me and stop staring at the floor.”

He stood. Paced in front of her. The small space between the chair and the bed forced his leg to slide along the side of the mattress. “My first year wasn't so bad. I traveled to Okinawa for six months. Didn't contact anyone. Not even my grandparents. I was trying to find out who I was. What I wanted. What my purpose in life was. I told you I made the decision to join because of my grandfather, but day one in the service I resented him because it was more his decision than mine. I should've gone to college.”

“How could I trap you with a baby when there was no guarantee you were going to go pro, Lincoln? Players get injured all the time. And I loved you with every part of my fifteen-, sixteen-, and seventeen-year-old body.” Katherine opened her purse. “I've worn this ring almost every day except for the time I was in the hospital giving birth to our son and now. I held on to the hope that one day you'd come back to me. But you didn't. I've come to you. So if this ring doesn't mean anything to you, I can have closure, and,” she said, placing the ring in his hand, “and you can have this back.”

His Adam's apple lodged in his throat. He clenched the ring in his palm. Wow, she'd worn his gold ring for over ten years. Had she sexed another man while wearing his ring? He shook his head again. Didn't want those thoughts creeping in either.

“Katherine, I don't have any excuses for not contacting you. I love you. I still love you. Seemed like the longer I took to call, the easier it became not to call anyone. And I—”

“Did you call Mona Lisa?”

He shook his head. Technically he hadn't called her. He'd texted her.

“You're sure?”

Did she know something he didn't about Mona? Best to stick with his first response, since that was the truth. “No, I haven't called her. Haven't seen her since graduation day.”

“Um, huh. Continue,” she said, crossing her legs.

“Nine eleven changed my life for the worse. Honestly, I didn't think I was going to survive Afghanistan or Iraq. Being an expert shooter saved my life many times, but I couldn't save—” He stopped speaking. Choked up again thinking about Randy. “The military taught me my main purpose was to kill. But I couldn't save my best friend. Katherine, I'd love to tell you I'm the same man you last saw, but I'm not.”

“What do you—”

The chopping sound hovered over the hotel. He grabbed her. Threw her to the floor. Covered her body with his. “Stay down! Don't move.” He crawled to the nightstand, got his gun, peeped out the window.

Katherine sprang to her feet. He knocked her back down, kneeled beside her. “Stay down! It's not safe.”

Lincoln stayed by her side, protecting her like he'd done other soldiers. “I should've never walked away from Randy,” he cried, then wiped her face.

Katherine moved his hand. “Stop it.” She peeped out the window. “It's a helicopter. Lincoln, my God, what happened to you over there?”