The Lonely Hearts 06 The Grunt 2 Page 13

  “I know what you’re trying to do,” Sharon erupted. “You’re trying to take Cameron away from us! You want to fill him with those liberal thoughts of yours and turn him into one of those gay marriage sympathizing race mixers.”

  Courtney had had enough. Now, the old biddy was just being mean. “You’re an idiot,” she said flatly. The words just leaped from her mouth before she had time to say anything. Sharon had been rude in the past, but not this blatant. Evidently, something was way up her ass today.

  Sharon’s mouth popped open. That bitch! “Well, I’ll be glad when the paternity case is heard in a court of law.” A smile curved her lips as she prepared to drop the bomb on Courtney. “After that, we’ll be doing the deciding on when you see him and not the other way around,” she said with malice in her voice. “If you get a chance to see him at all,” she added. “I don’t see why you would be considering it since he’s not biologically either one of yours.”

  So that was this was all about. Sharon was finally showing her hand because of Leo Tabor. Didn’t take her long. Courtney knew that Sharon was in Fayetteville just relishing in the thought of taking Cameron away from Brett, but that was not going to happen.

  “That’s it,” Courtney finally said after a brief pause. Now was not the time to have loose lips. “You can stop your silent gloating.”

  Courtney realized that it was Leo who accompanied Sharon to her home while they were away. The nerve of that woman!

  “Who’s gloating silently?” Sharon asked. “I have no intention of throwing a rock and hiding my hand. You people have no business with my blood in your house.”

  Courtney stepped out of the flow of traffic and stood beside an ATM, taking her voice down a few notches. Her fingers trembled as she clutched the phone to her ear, she was so angry. “My husband and I have been nothing but good to you two.”

  “Says who?” Sharon taunted.

  “Says anyone. Says me. But mark my words; you won’t get away with this.” Courtney clutched her small cross necklace as she said the words, praying for Him to back her up.

  “We have a good lawyer who says otherwise,” Sharon quipped pivoting to blame. “Maybe things wouldn’t have come to this if Brett had been more amenable in the first place.”

  Placing the culpability of the situation on Brett was a big mistake. Courtney shook her head in utter disbelief. “People like you don’t even understand the meaning of the word amenable. That would require you to give something. All you do is take. Just like your daughter. Just like you. You know, Amy was an apple who didn’t fall far from the tree. You people have no honor at all, but don’t expect me to trade in my honor to roll around in the mud with you.”

  Sharon was pleased that she had finally gotten under Courtney’s skin. “The likes of you referring to me as you people is laughable.”

  Courtney found it odd that that was all that Sharon heard. “What is laughable is how much control you think you have in this situation. What’s laughable is the idea that you think you’ll see Cameron a day before the judge says that you are allowed, and trust me, it will take a judge to order that you’re allowed to see him before you do.”

  Sharon sat back in her seat a little deflated. “You don’t have the authority to make that call.” Did she?

  “Oh, I’m making the call, Sharon. Because you see, I’m the one doing homework, giving baths, teaching numbers and running away the boogey man, not you. I’m the one fixing dinner, and taking him to doctor’s appointments and trying to fill the void that your worthless, whoring daughter left when she hopped on a plane and left this child behind to run off with another man, not you. And I’m the one making the call on who he can see and who he can’t see, not you.” There was more that she could list, but Courtney had been taught by her father to never show all of her cards.

  A man passing by as Courtney shouted into the phone shook his head. Stunned, she tried to bring it down a notch. Was she talking loud? Was she making a fool out of herself? She was so angry until she hadn’t noticed.

  Sharon didn’t like the confidence that Courtney was exhibiting. She was expecting something else – something more pliable. So she did the only thing she could do, she stabbed at a point that was fact. Much calmer, she flipped her hair back and curled her lips. “No matter what you do, he’ll never be your son.”

  Courtney smiled. This woman was not about to steal her joy, hard as she might try. “That’s where you’re wrong, Sharon. No matter what you do, he’ll never stop being my son. He knows that I love him. He can feel it, and you can’t take that away.” She cleared her throat. “We’re done here. Don’t dare show up on my doorstep, or it’ll be the last door you ever knock on.”

  Sharon perked up. “Is that a threat?”

  “No, it is not,” Courtney stilled her shaking hands. “That’s a promise. And Sharon, I always stand by my promise.” Hanging up the phone, she slipped it back in her purse.

  Looking around to see who had seen the argument, she was relieved that no one was gawking at her or even concerned by her existence. As far as she was concerned, that was a good thing at the moment.

  ***

  Even though she’d never admit it, Sharon Riley was fit to be tied. To think that that woman had the nerve to tell her off. She looked down at her cell phone in shock and then slid it on to the table. She hadn’t been talked to like that since she had become a minister’s wife. Of course, she wouldn’t tell her husband everything that was said by Courtney - just the juicy parts- otherwise, she’d be made to look a fool by that second-class citizen.

  Heart still racing, she glanced over at her husband, sitting across from her in his chair reading the Bible in preparation for Sunday’s sermon and tapped her long manicured nails against the table. She knew he had been listening the whole time, at least to her side of the conversation. So he had to be expecting some sort of reply. “Well, I was just threatened.” Her voice resembled more of a tattle than a report.

  Licking his fingers and flipping the page, he uncrossed his long legs. “How so?” Reverend William asked dryly.

  Not the response she expected. Where was the damned urgency?

  “Courtney Black says that if we show up to her door before a court date, it will be the last door that we ever see. I think she meant that she’d kill me. That’s a reportable offense.” She paused for a minute to let that sink in to the good reverend’s head before proceeding with her call-to-action. “We should file charges with the authorities immediately. I do believe that I fear for my life.”

  The reverend, a man of great contempt for black people dating back to the civil rights movement but not one who was foreign to the judicial system because of his own run-ins when he was more friendly with the local Klan, begged to differ. He knew beforehand that his reply would ensue an argument, but after 35 years of marriage to an only child, what more could he expect? “I know that you’re not going to like this, so let me go on and preface by statement by getting this out of the way.” He huffed and scratched the side of his mouth with his finger. “You called her. She didn’t call you. Plus, you threatened to take away Cameron. No police officer in the world could do a thing about what she said to you. She has the right to tell you not to come on to her property. She has the right to tell you what will happen if you do, and you’d better listen, because if anyone else was witness to that exchange, they’ll testify on her behalf.”

  Sharon was not pleased at all. She gripped the arm of the chair and glared at her husband as though her evil stare my change the very laws of government. “There is nothing that can be done?” Grit and growl filled her voice. “This woman threatened my life for wanting to see my grandson, and you’re telling me that there is nothing at all that can be done?”

  He huffed.

  William knew his wife. She was the world’s biggest instigator, which was great during church fundraisers and tea party political campaigns, but not so great in day-to-day life. “If there were anything to be done about it, as your husband,
I’d be the first to tell you.” He closed his Bible with a thud. There was no point in expecting to finish his sermon anytime soon with this brouhaha. “I told you to stop calling them. I told you to just let the lawyers handle things, but no, you wanted to rub it in.” He shrugged his bony wide shoulders. “Well, now it’s rubbed.” He raised a brow. “You have to be more strategic in your thinking instead of letting emotions get in the way, Sharon.” The Good Lord knew that it had kept him out of jail throughout his life.

  Accusatorily, she pointed across the room as though Courtney was present. “They are keeping us away from our only grandchild,” she said with the intention of firing up his fragile sensibilities. “Your grandson is being raised with those people.” She blinked slowly and watched his eyes as they averted to her – right where she wanted them. “He’s the only one that we have now that Amy is dead, and Jimmy, bless his soul, left us as a baby. Cameron is our only legacy. If we lose him, then all of this will be for nothing, because I’m far too old to try again.” She tugged at his heart strings as she began to cry. “Don’t you care about that at all?”

  “You think that I don’t know that my only living child is now dead? You think that I don’t remember burying Jimmy, my only son, because of crib death?” He eyed her sternly as if to say that she had gone too far. He sat up in his chair. “If I were a young stupid man, then I might have grabbed a shotgun and headed to Jacksonville after she threatened you, but age gives you wisdom, if you’re lucky. And wisdom dictates we handle things better than a couple of bumbling teenagers who got hold of a phone while their parents were away.”

  She ducked her head and wiped a tear. “I feel like I’m in this all alone. I was finally given hope the day that Leo showed up on our doorstep. I don’t want to lose it again. I don’t want another circumstance to keep us from our family.”

  “No one is losing hope. I’m simply asking that you not allow your emotions to mess things up for us.” Sympathy crept into his tone. “Sharon, we will get him,” he assured, putting his hand on her leg. “Harold Murphy is one the best lawyers in all of North Carolina, in my opinion. Thank God, he’s also a member of our church. He’s already told us what to do. We need to follow his direction.”

  “I’m trying. It’s just,” she wiped her tears and sniffled. “That woman is so wretched.” More than anything, she wanted her husband to hate Courtney as much as she did, but evidently that pursuit would have to take time.

  “Harold is a fine man. Make sure that you tell him what the incomparable Mrs. Black said to you today. That should go over real nice at the hearing, telling a preacher’s wife that kind of foolishness.”

  Sharon nodded her head emphatically. “Oh, I won’t forget. I’m going to make her eat her words.” Suddenly, she was starting to feel upbeat again.

  Her sudden voice pitch made William relax a little more. “Trust me, Sharon. This is going to be a short fight. Cameron will be with us in no time. Marines don’t make much money, and I’m pretty sure he’s run through all of that insurance money he got spoiling his new wife.”

  “Just the thought makes me sick. I’m just glad that Leo came forward. As complicated as their story is, the point is that he and Amy loved each other dearly, and he’s determined to be a good father to their son.”

  William held his reservations on that subject. There was no point in knocking the wind out of Sharon’s sails further.

  Chapter 13

  "Watch out for false prophets. They come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ferocious wolves.”

  Matthew 7:15 (NIV)

  Contrary to Sharon Riley’s belief, Leo Tabor was anything but a good man. God had blessed him with amazingly good looks. His family had blessed him with a good strong name. He was also good at covering his ass; good at making women believe that he was dependable; good at sex and even better at leaving after sex. But in the truest sense of being a good man, Leo Tabor fell ridiculously short of the definition. Always had. Always would…and he didn’t’ give a damn.

  What he did give a damn about was money. Pure, green, in-his-hands money. And he had a plan to get all of it. It was just a damn shame that he had pull a young, innocent boy into the middle of it, but in this life, a man was bound to regret his actions one way or another. So why pass up an opportunity to be regretfully wealthy?

  Sitting at the dimly lit bar in the back of The Hellhound, a local Wilmington strip club with notoriously high-end clientele, Leo watched from across the room as a petite topless blonde in a purple glitter G-string with extremely large augmented breasts gave an older male patron a vigorous lap dance to the song, “Pipe It Up.”

  Strange choice of music to Leo, but it wasn’t his dance or his money.

  Pulling his intense gaze away from her momentarily, he tapped his empty glass and motioned for the young bartender, who was engulfed in the sports recaps, only a few feet away. “Another whiskey sour,” he said, eyes locked on her naturally large breasts pushed up in a low-cut V-neck shirt tied in a knot just above her belly button. That sight wet his appetite.

  “Sure thing,” she said, taking her eyes off the television. Prancing over to him, she made sure to bend forward for more ice so that he could get a better look at her assets.

  He noticed. Leo had a knack for noticing everything about women – their strengths, their weaknesses and most of all their insecurities, because the insecurities were what he used to get what he wanted. And he always got what he wanted.

  “Hell of a hot day outside, huh?” she said, making small talk.

  Leo shrugged. “I’ve been in hotter.”

  “Middle East?” she asked, drawing him in with her big brown eyes.

  Leo left something to mystery. It was part of his illusive charm. Flatly, he replied, “Military life takes you to a lot of places.” He knew the drill. Women always wanted to find out what a man did within five minutes of meeting him, whether they were CEOs or bar flies. It was part of their genetic makeup to identify the alphas, the money makers, the heroes, especially in these parts. So, he gave them just enough to want more.

  “What branch?” she asked, more intrigued.

  His brow lifted as though hadn’t expected that to be her next question. “Navy.”

  “Really?” she said, voice pitched high. Her eyes were bright with new ambition.

  He knew the second question too.

  “Enlisted man or officer?” she paused.

  “Officer.” He bit his wide set bottom lip. “That’s all past me now.” Putting both elbows on the bar, so that she could better inspect his large muscular arms in his polo, he twirled his straw in his empty glass, clanking it against the ice. “You gonna hook me up, or what?” His words were intentionally suggestive. “Just because you’re beautiful, doesn’t mean you get to make me wait all day.”

  The bartender read between the lines enough to make her swallow hard. Moving her long bangs from her face, she blushed. “Coming right up.”

  Turning his head back toward the dancer, he narrowed his gaze, wondering if the stripper was enjoying the extensive dry hump she was giving the old bastard. If not, she pretended damn well. Rubbing her small hands over her nipples, the dancer pushed back on the crotch of the old man’s khakis until he grabbed her by the waist and adjusted her.

  Leo snickered. Couldn’t last one dance. Pathetic. He deserves to pay for it.

  The bartender quickly refilled Leo’s glass and followed his glance across the room to the dancer. A smile crept across her glossed lips. “She’s working real hard over there on that guy, huh?” she said, wiping the water marks from the bar in front of him. She angled her breasts so that they would be in full view when he turned around; reminding him of what he was missing.

  Leo took a sip of his drink. Not to strong, not too weak…just right. He nodded in approval. “That is a bonafide, professional dry fuck, my dear.” He stretched his arms out and cracked his neck. “But I’m sure he’ll give her one hell of a tip for it.”

  Flippin
g her long brown ponytail off her shoulder, she frowned. “And that doesn’t bother you?” Considering the preppy clothes and the classic good looks, she figured him to be a gentleman.

  He was anything but. “I’m not her daddy,” Leo quipped.

  Her head tilted in confusion. “But you are her boyfriend,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “At least, that’s what she says.”

  Leo knew what she was getting at. Demeaning the stripper allowed the bartender to be elevated. The female persuasion had been playing this game since they were competing in the sand box as babies. But he wouldn’t let her elevate herself too quickly above the working girl across the room. “Women have to eat, just like men. What she does is just a job. It’s not who she is as a person.”

  The stripper’s phony giggle echoed across the room as the old man grunted in enjoyment.

  The bartender had a dumbfounded look on her face. “You really believe that bullshit or do you just say it to keep from feeling like shit when she’s 20 feet away from you making some old fart cum in his pants?” She thought she had him dead to rights.

  Leo had to admit, he liked her sassiness, even though it was misplaced considering she worked here too. But he was certain that under her bimbo-exterior there was a woman with a brain, and that was dangerous. He glanced at her name tag for a long minute and the rigid nipple a few inches under it. She was mad for the moment, but still incredibly turned on by him. He bet if he reached over and pinched that angry little nipple, she wouldn’t even slap him. Tempting. “Daisy, you’re young, but you’re not slow. If you want to say something, just say it. Don’t mince words with me. You have no reason to. I’m just a guy at your bar…”

  “You could do better,” she blurted out, cutting him off. There, she had finally said it. Amber Valentine was a bleached-blonde, big boobed, dumb slut.

  “I can do better than Amber?” Leo repeated as though he felt he couldn’t. With a wicked grin, he leaned closer. “Because she’s a stripper?” he whispered condescendingly.