Blind Fate Read online

  The tug in his lower region was a like a beacon. As if Tempest could feel him getting horny as hell, she would pull up in her little white van, no questions, no conversation, just a night of hard loving until his pecker couldn’t stand up and neither could he. The quiet moments right before sunup were the times he loved the most with the woman.

  “Last call people,” Jacob yelled out as he turned down the music blasting in the background.

  Two regulars and one face he didn’t recognize sat in back of The Watering Hole, nursing a warm beer and snacking on pretzels. The man seemed a bit lost, which prompted Jacob to provide a burger and fries at no cost to the traveler. The liquor required payment since Jacob didn’t provide any freebies on that end.

  Just as the hour struck two a.m. and he locked the front door, Jacob spotted headlights coming down Wildcat Road and making the right on South Eugene Lane. At the end of the road sat his lone abode, a three-bedroom garden home with lots of windows to allow in the natural sunlight so he could sit on his back porch and stare at the small pool of water some folks actually called a lake. It wasn’t much, but The Watering Hole, which sat right in front of Crab Orchard Creek, was his life. Jacob just didn’t understand why Tempest liked to show up and complicate everything. He also didn’t understand his lack of ability to ask the woman to stop coming.

  It wasn’t her fault that he fell in love.

  The headlights came to a slowdown just in front of the house, and as usual, she eased the stark white vehicle behind the building. A few years back, a parking awning covered in camouflage had been erected to hide the bright white van. Tempest pulled into the spot, waiting for Jacob to greet her at the door. He didn’t this time.

  “Jacob,” she said, watching him walk over like a predator ready to pounce. The bulge in his pants was all the greeting she really needed to know how the man felt about seeing her.

  “Tempest,” he said, adjusting his stance. The outline of the erection nearly made her mouth water and panties wet. “How long you here for?”

  “Just the night, if you’ll have me,” she said. licking her bottom lip as she eyed the gorgeous imprint in his pants.

  “Shit, I ain’t gonna turn you away,” Jacob replied. “Come on. Have you eaten anything or are you fueled up on caffeine and anger?”

  “The latter but what I really could use is some of this,” she said, skirting her way around his outstretched hand to stroke the outline in the pants. “I find it hard to believe that no other woman has claimed this solid eight inches of love as their own by now.”

  “Can’t, when it belongs to only you,” he said, giving into the pleasure of her hand and touching the side of her face. Jacob made a last attempt at a muted conversation since he knew in a few minutes his ability to reason would be lost. “Tempest, stop leaving me. Stay with me so we can have a life, not the middle of the night fuck fests when you leave, and I worry for days at a time if you’re still alive or dead.”

  “All I got is right now. Take me inside, Jacob. Lay me down on your bed and show me how much I mean to you,” breathily she answered, stroking his objections away with an anxious hand.

  “Dammit, Tempest! Why do I let you do this to me?” he wondered, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her towards the mid-sized green house. The locks were simple, and he slid the key into the jagged opening, turning hard to the right and listening to the tumblers give way under the pressure of his hand. Jacob pushed open the front door, yanking the lady inside and looking out the small side window for other headlights.

  Gurgles of water tumbling over small pebbles echoed in the Creek that ran behind the home. There really weren’t any fish in the creek, but blue gills in season at the lake made pretty good eating when the biting was good, were a few of the thoughts cramming their way into Jacob’s head. In a moment, he and Tempest would be in his bed, lost in the passion of each other. He loved the feel of her wrapped around him, clinging tight as her nails scored his back.

  Jacob’s first favorite thing was when she removed her top and the dark nipples hardened to little ebony buds that grew tighter the instant he ran his tongue across each tip. His second favorite thing when she stayed over was the warmth of her thighs locked around his waist as she bucked against him in wild abandon while he rammed into her soft body repeatedly until the ache stopped. Tempest came through once a month, and every thirty days he waited only for her.

  “I couldn’t wait to get to you,” she said, lifting the skirt to show the damp spot in the yellow cotton panties.

  The scent of her eagerness nearly made Jacob lose all self-control as he snatched at the belt buckle and unzipped his pants. Talk wasn’t necessary from this point on, and he lifted her into his arms, carrying her down the hall to his bed. The boots he loved to wear behind the bar didn’t need to come off his feet. The skirt she wore only had to be raised for the first go round and he simply needed to cup one of the delicious brown breasts, feeling the nipple under his thumb, to close the rest of the deal.

  “Damn, I missed your sexy ass,” Jacob mumbled, covering her mouth with his own. He shifted his body enough to slide the cotton undies to the side as he worked his taut muscular frame between her legs. The connection was quick as he felt himself sinking into the soft, molten heat. “Jesus, I ain’t never felt anything so good in my entire life, Tempest.”

  “You feel pretty damned good yourself, Jacob. Now stop talking and do that thing I like,” Tempest said, rolling her hips under him and flexing her vaginal muscles as he turned into a bucking bronco. “That’s it, Master Sargent. Give me what I need.”

  Through eighteen minutes of non-stop coupling, Tempest reached three orgasms, called on the Lord Almighty at least six times, and praised Jesus and at least eight of the Apostles she swore were in the room condemning her soul to hell. She was so lost in the need to belong to someone and matter that she allowed the greed of his seed to control the speed with which she failed to deliver some very important news to her lover.

  The Glitter Man was on her trail, but Tempest never thought he’d find her at Jacob’s. So few people knew about this lover in her life. He was a secret she kept close to the chest telling no one, not even Beauty about their relationship.

  Lying in his arms, completely undressed after a second round of rodeo riding, they cuddled close, drifting into a deep sleep. In the morning, Tempest would confess her sins and maybe possibly even potentially consider a permanent life with the man. He could fuck like a demon, was pretty decent in the kitchen, and maintained a clean house. If there was one thing she couldn’t stand, it was a dirty man who threw socks and underwear in the floor as if the hamper was a missed free throw shot in the home game for the State Championship.

  Jacob eased her anxieties and being in his arms felt like coming home to a good meal, that comfortable bed and a tattered house robe with a hole in the pocket. Tempest lowered her guard, sleeping much harder than normal, comforted in the strong embrace of familiarity. She never got too comfortable with anyone. Tempest never became too familiar. Familiarity made a woman weak. There was no room in her world for a weak woman.

  Letting down the guards and allowing anyone inside the inner circle meant death. Do the job and go home. Do the job and go home. She did the job. She did Jacob. All she needed now was to go home via Blairsville and Mr. Mann.

  “Tomorrow, Jacob. I have to head out tomorrow,” she mumbled in her sleep, startling the dark figure standing next to the bed. He’d eaten the free burger the barkeep had given him in the dive bar and only had to wait an hour or so for Tempest to show up. He gave them another half hour to get the humping out of their system, then they would doze off and he could go to work.

  The mask over his face prevented the inhalation of the gas from the canister which he silently popped, watching the clouds of smoke fill the room. Even if Tempest awakened now, it would be too late for her to do anything to stop his efforts. In the corner of the bedroom sat a chair in which Rami seated himself, leaning back and watching the sleep
ing forms inhale the fumes.

  “You are a lovely woman,” Rami spoke into the mask, eyeballing the long, sleek leg. A bare breast, uncovered by the sheeting, made him sit up in the seat. He loved Tempest’s body. The breasts were more than a handful and could fit just perfectly into a man’s mouth. She was just the right height at five foot eight, and in a pair of high heels, it appeared as if her legs took special care to go all the way and make an ass out of themselves. A small waist over thirty-four-inch hips with a firm bubble butt that a man could bury his face in and make raspberries were too tempting to ignore. Try as he might to show a bit of discipline, he couldn’t contain himself.

  Through the gaseous white cloud of smoke in the room, Rami made his way to the queen-size bed. The fella, she called him Jacob, wasn’t a very big man. He barely reached six feet tall, was on the sinewy side, and had enough in his trousers to keep a whore like Tempest happy. The gas oozed deep in their lungs and neither would be waking up anytime soon.

  Rami pulled his favorite blade from the holster on his waist. Gloved hands ran over the hairy chest, noting the scars and bullet wounds from a soldier who had served his country. A patriot who’d come home, attending therapy to stave off the nightmares of the faces which plagued him at night. All of his hard work to be an upstanding citizen was coming to an end tonight in his own home, in a bed with a whore.

  “I salute your service Master Sargent,” Rami said aloud raising the blade. A quick plunge into Jacob’s chest, and the life force seeped out just as the gas seeped in. Rolling the man over to his back, Rami took the bag of rose gold glitter from his knapsack along with a small bottle of Elmer’s glue. Carefully, he drizzled the glue over the limp instrument, taking special precaution to not actually touch the damn thing. He coated the flaccid tool with streams of white glue. Methodically, he added splatters of rose gold glitter, giggling to himself as the man lay dying next to his whore.

  “Oh, why the fuck not?” Rami eased back the covers on Tempest, exposing her breasts to the gassy air. The nipples hardened in the cool room. Like a surgeon, Rami bent over the tits, tempted to suck one just so he could tell Tempest about it later and mess with her head, but he stayed focused on his task of using the glue to make perfect circles around the areolas, using the orange tip of the container to make star-like markings from the center of the nipple. He splashed the first one with the rose gold glitter, and enjoying his handiwork, followed with the same pattern on the second breast, adding more glitter.

  “She’s going to freak the fuck out when she wakes up and sees this,” he said with a wide grin behind the mask. “I’ll teach her to screw with me.”

  The cut into Jacob’s chest was deep enough to expedite the exsanguination in less than five minutes. It would take a half hour for the gas to clear out, but for good measure, he slipped the offending blade in between Tempest’s fingers. When she woke up in the morning to find the glitter and her dead lover, she’d know.

  She’d know she had fucked with the wrong one. Beauty would learn she had fucked with the wrong one, too. Framing someone to get rid of them is also wrong.

  Rami didn’t like that about either woman.

  “I’m not done with you yet, Tempest. Our fun is just beginning.”

  TEMPEST’S HEAD ACHED terribly and the taste of metal filled her mouth as she rolled over; the scent of copper filling her nostrils. Tempest reached out to touch Jacob and found his body to be warm to the tips of her fingers. She shook him, trying to wake her lover, drawing back at the feel of wetness on her left hand. Her right hand had a cramp, and she raised it into the early morning sunlight streaming through the window, blinking several times at the knife in her hand.

  “What in the hell?” she mumbled, trying to get to her feet. Light-headiness overtook her as she stumbled into the wall, clumsily attempting to right herself. The light switch at the door seemed to be miles away as she tripped over her steps, clambering for the switch, hitting it with her good hand, and bringing light to the room.

  The scream escaped her lips at the vision of a pale Jacob, laid out on white sheets, dappled in a crimson splotch surrounding his body. Her mouth was frozen wide in fear, reading the direct message left on the body of her lover. Rose gold glitter covered his penis and the hole in his body, clearly delineated by the pool of blood that coagulated over the unfriendly gash made by what she assumed was the knife in her hand.

  “Dear God,” Tempest said, placing her hand on her chest and thinking of the number of times she’d wasted calling on Him and didn’t need assistance. She needed His help now. Flitters of glitter fell from her body onto the floor. Hastily, she turned toward the mirror to see the rose gold glitter surrounding her nipples, and she shoved her fist into her mouth. “I’ve got to get out of here!”

  The sun was up and soon deliveries would begin arriving at The Watering Hole. Old Smokey would come knocking at the door to wake Jacob to get him to come into work. They would find him in the bed, dead.

  Dead because of her.

  Dressing quickly, Tempest tossed the knife onto the bed. The leather handle dipped in his blood wouldn’t hold as many fingerprints as a smooth surface and she would take her chances on Beauty lending her a hand with the law. She didn’t know of any family Jacob still had in Illinois or back home in Alabama.

  “I’m so sorry, Jacob. I should have said something, warned you, and we could have been on the lookout for this crazy man,” she said through tears. Shaking hands were held under the faucet, washing away the splotches of blood on her fingers. Using the rag, she wiped down the light switch to remove the bloody fingerprints. If she had more time, she would clean the room and take care of Jacob’s body since technically, that was her specialty. Tempest collected her skirt and keys and pulled the blouse over her glitter covered breasts. Tempest gasped at the realization that the Glitter Man touched her.

  “I’ve got to get out of here. I gotta get to the Mann,” she said, running out the back door and heading to her van.

  Planted in the front seat, she shoved the key in the ignition, starting the vehicle and backing out of the makeshift garage. She barely made it down the lane before the sirens over the bridge could be heard, turning onto the top end of Wildcat Road. She took the right heading out the back end of the same road, avoiding coming into contact with the police officers who were making a beeline for Jacob’s home.

  Maintaining a normal speed limit, she continued down Wildcat, making a right onto S. Cabot and driving until she reached Main Street. Taking the left, she entered the I-57 Southbound, praying for the connector to I-24.

  Jacob was gone, taken out by the Glitter Man, and he was after her. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the reality of it all happening so quickly. Jacob was taken out in his sleep by a sociopath with no feelings or regard for human life.

  She shivered all the way until she reached Paducah, Kentucky, which was only an hour’s drive away. Several shops offered her shelter and a haven when she came through, never asking any questions about who, what, and where she was going. Her favorite, a small quilt shop that served breakfast rolls and coffee, was the next spot to rest her soul and calm her nerves. She parked the white van out back and walked around the building to the front door of an off the beaten path location always filled with little old ladies sitting and chatting. He couldn’t get to her there. Those old trolls guarded the bridge to Quiltville with pride, and Rami wouldn’t be able to fool any of them with his quick talking.

  Tears streamed down her face, but she couldn’t make herself call Beauty just yet. Thus far, she’d gotten away from the tangled mess Rami was building. She just needed to make it to Georgia.

  But first, she also had to survive the inquiring eyes of a room full of old ladies who had nothing better to do all day than rearrange scraps of fabric. Tempest checked herself for glitter, knowing that stuff stuck to everything. Rami knew that as well, which is why he chose it as a medium for his signature calling card.

  “You rotten fucker,” she growled, kno
wing, beyond a shadow of a doubt that her past was coming full circle to haunt the day hours as well as the night hours. The past had a way of doing that to a body, especially when they needed it the least.

  LOUISVILLE, KENTUCKY

  The feeling of fear sat in his chest. A few times before he’d experienced the same dread as if the worst monster in the world hid in the closet and by the time he counted to ten, the monster would pounce on the number eight and eat his face. There were instances when the feeling came on strong like now, and he wanted to speak to his father on the connection to the unseen force, but as he grew, he understood more and more what it all meant.

  It was a thread. A tightly woven cosmic thread that connected them together and he could feel her. The fear wasn’t his own, but hers. She was scared. Running. Heart thudding in her chest kind of scared and it put him on edge as well. She needed to calm down because she was frightening them both to point of distraction.

  “I don’t know if this works both ways or not,” he mumbled in a soft tone. Focusing in on the fear, he took a deep breath. Taking the deep cleansing breaths one after the other, the young man channeled the energy, offering a calming balm to an anxious soul. “Home. Home. Home.”

  He repeated the single word several times, hoping the message would reach the racing heart, calm the fear and bring her home. It’s where she needed to be. They had no choice anymore. The danger was real for everyone. If he could feel it, then she knew the danger to all.

  “Time to head home Tempest,” he whispered again, before opening his eyes, climbing from the bed to start his day.

  Chapter Three – Backward