In The Cage (4 page)

Chapter Three

Déjà vu

While walking hand in hand with Diego I make a solemn vow. I will never smoke another joint as long as I live. Not only that I will never go to another bar and order another drink that I did not by and pour and drink by myself. I don’t know if it was something I did smoke last night or if somebody slipped some roofies or something similar in my drink but I can’t take that chance again. I should have asked Jake for more information about my drinking companions last night too. I doubt he’d know more than he told me though. It was a super busy night. He must have served three hundred customers or more before his shift was up. How’s he going to remember what I was up to other than to give me and my friends more drinks? I still feel a little disorientated even now. That must have been some powerful stuff I took to still be wreaking havoc some ten hours later. Then there’s the big question of the day. What the hell am I doing back in Oakland California? After I buried Ethan I completely left the state and swore never to return but here I am back in Oakland and there must be a reason. Hopefully when the drugs are completely out of my system I’ll remember.

“Mom…mom…earth to mom.” Diego calls to me.

“Oh sorry sweetie, I was just lost in thought.”

“Just now? Or do you mean the whole breakfast?”

Startled, I look around. The two plates sitting in front of me are empty save for the remnants of French toast, eggs, and hash browns; my favorite breakfast. I don’t even remember eating. What is wrong with me?

“What’s wrong mom? You haven’t heard a single word I’ve been saying.”

“I’m just tired honey. I stayed out way too late. I haven’t done that since-”

“Since you were gone the night before last, and the night before that and the two nights before that?”

What the hell? I’m about to argue that I have been home every night but last night but now I’m not so sure. If I have been gone like he says, where have I been and what have I been up to? I’m dying to ask Diego how long we’ve been back in California but I’m pretty sure a question like that is going to totally freak him out. The last thing a ten year old wants to worry about is his mom losing her mind.

“I’m sorry Diego…no more late nights I promise. It’s just you and me now and I’m staying home.”

“That’s what you said two weeks ago mom.”

“What?” Now I’m really scared.

“Just kidding mom. Geez that really freaked you out.”

“Got you didn’t I?” I pretend to be playing a joke.

He smiles and kinda laughs but I don’t think he believes me. What the hell have I been doing going out every night and leaving my son with some strange sitter all night long?

I’m about to suggest going to the latest Batman movie when the widescreen TV in the café breaks from its morning programming for breaking news. The volume is turned too far down for me to hear it but from the pictures I can figure it out. Some news announcer is talking about two men pictured on the screen. Underneath the pictures are their real names but I know them simply as King and Boomer!

Now I am really freaking out. Both men are listed as missing and I turn up back in California with blood on my jacket and the inability to account for the last five days of my life. Can you say murder? Did I really come to Oakland and track down and murder both men? Despite what they did to me am I really capable of that? Right now the news brief just lists them as missing and is pleading for any information as to their whereabouts. I half expect to see my picture up there as a person of interest. When the station returns to the football game in process I’m relieved. How much time do I have before the cops come knocking on my door?

My first impulse is to call Taylor but something keeps me from doing just that. Jake described her to a tee last night. Why the hell would she up and leave me by myself. The other strange thing here is that I can’t for the life of me remember how we met or if we really are good friends or just acquaintances. I need to call Jake. I have to talk to someone and he’s the only one I can think of at the moment. I’ll take Diego to the park and while he’s playing I’ll call Jake and feel him out. I need to find out what kind of person he is. Actually I think I already know that.

“Okay sweetie, let’s go to the park.”

Diego’s eyes light up. I lay a twenty and a ten on the table and collect up my purse. We’re just walking out when my phone rings. Without thinking I answer.

“Hello?”

“Christine, this is Jake.”

“Hi Jake, how are you? And by the way thanks for settling things with the sitter. What do I owe you?”

“Lunch…or at least coffee.”

“Coffee.” I reply. But at the place of my choosing.”

“Okay.”

I’m at the corner of 21
^st
Avenue and Garnet. There’s a kids park here and I’m sitting watching Diego. You wanted to have coffee with me. Well here’s your chance. I’m sitting nearby the taller of the two climbing structures. I’d like a Grande Café Mocha with an ad shot, please.”

“Coming right up.” Jake replies cheerfully. I’ll see you in about a half hour.”

When Jake finally walks up I am seriously in need of it and the eye candy his presence provides me. This afternoon he wearing a pair of relaxed fit, boot cut Levi jeans and a white athletic cut tee shirt.

“You done staring?” He asks. “Wait, how about, take a picture it’ll last longer.”

“I’m afraid you might break the camera.” I reply.

“That’s not what your eyes are tellin’ ya.”

“Oh? And what do you think my eyes are telling me?’

“They’re wondering when you can get the kid outta here so you can tap this ass.” He replies.

“Oh my god I’m actually wondering how long I gotta sit here pretending to enjoy the coffee before I can disinvite you.” I reply.

“Hey it’s a free country.” He says. “
And
a free park.”

“Freedom’s overrated.”

“So are looks, apparently.” He says. “How’s the kid?”

“Diego’s fine.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends…I may just tell you to shut the hell up.”

“That’s bold words for the hot guy who just brought you a cuppa Joe.”

“You want it back?” I ask, indicating my cup. “I can stick my finger down my throat you know…”

“It’s okay, you keep it.”

“So what do you want to know?” I ask him.

I’m finding it difficult to be mean to the guy. He’s so damn good looking. Normally I wouldn’t be sitting here talking to a stranger…but then again, is the man who helped me find my son a stranger? I kinda think we’ve moved beyond that now. He’s more like a knight in shining armor.

“What have you been doing coming to the bar practically every night?”

“Wow…right to the point huh?”

“Well it’s kind of intriguing. A beautiful woman suddenly shows up in a dive bar and starts ordering drinks. You didn’t even look like you were waiting for anyone or looking for anyone either. You just sat there and drank. People come to the Carburetor for the biker atmosphere. They get drunk and brag about their bikes. Then there’s the MMA guys. The washed up fighters no longer in the circuit but can’t shake it from their blood. Once a fighter always a fighter. So where do you fit in?” Jake asks.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. Somebody slipped me something and it’s pretty much scrambled my brains. I’ve lost some time…significant amount of time and it’s freaking me out.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks. “I’m serious, if you need anything call me even if it’s just a friend to talk to call me.”

“Thanks Jake…and thanks for coming this morning.”

We end up talking for a while but I make sure to steer the conversation away from my sudden appearance in his bar. That brings up too many questions that I’m not prepared to answer yet. I’m not sure I trust him that much. Every time he comes near me my nerves sing. It’s like he lights me on fire; in a good way. If this were any other time and place I would be thinking about getting to really know this guy and trying to determine if he is relationship material or not. That of course begs the other question. Do I dare get involved with someone who I think is a fighter. Has to be one. Somehow I think I’ve seen him fight on TV but I’m not sure about that. If he is an MMA guy, which is likely given his guns and the place he works, he’s probably on the Juice. Anyone who messes with that shit eventually ends up like King and Boomer and I can’t have that in my life anymore. To make things even more confusing, my gut is totally telling me this is a good guy despite the circumstances surrounding us meeting.

By the time Diego becomes bored with the park Jake and I are basically talked out. We say our goodbyes keeping it friendly and nothing more. Something tells me I will be seeing a lot more of this bartender MMA guy. I’m not sure that’s a good thing or not.

Chapter Four

The Warning

The Next Afternoon in Town…

“Hey little man.”

My head whips around at the sound of his voice.

“Jake¸ how are you?”

“I’m good. Just getting ready for a fight Thursday night.”

“Thursday? I didn’t think you guys fought on other days than weekends.”

“This isn’t actually a sanctioned fight.”

“What do you mean by that?” I ask him.

“Fighters who are not on the circuit have a difficult time getting paying fights; or any fights for that matter. If you don’t fight it’s impossible to stay on top of your game. So I’m fighting some other guys from Crossfire. Everyone is trying to get noticed and a shot at either fighting a Surge fighter or even becoming a Surge fighter.”

“But I saw you on TV; you had to be good to be on TV.”

“Yeah I also lost that fight…badly. I was with Cold Steel and that was a do or die fight and I just about died and I lost my ride. I was good. When I turned pro my record was 16-1-1 but two years after turning pro my record was an abysmal 0-1-11. Why I got even that many fights I’ll never know. I think maybe people enjoyed my ass kicking. I guess I’m a sexy loser. So, are you going to come or not?”

It’ll be a welcome distraction. “Of course I’ll come.”

“I wanna come.” Diego says.

I’m just about to tell him no when Jake does it for me.

“Sorry little man, but this is not a safe place for anyone under five feet tall.”

Diego looks pointedly at me and I know exactly what he’s thinking.

“Sorry honey but I’m five and a half feet tall. I get to go. You want to join us for coffee or something?” I ask Jake.

“Sure, why not.”

“How come you fight with people?” Diego asks after Jake gets seated.

“It’s what I do for a living.” Jake says. “You could say it’s my job.”

“So you like to hurt people then?” Diego asks.

“Diego don’t ask so many questions.” I instruct him.

“No it’s okay.” Jake says. “I don’t do it to hurt people I-”

“So it doesn’t hurt you when you get punched or kicked then?”

“Actually sometimes it hurts quite a bit.”

“Then why do you like to hurt people?”

“It’s actually a contest.” He explains. “Like a game. A bunch of us like to play the game to see who the best player is.”

“So there’s a bunch of people who like to hurt other people then?”

Diego just can’t seem to get his head wrapped around this concept of fighting as a contest.

And I can’t get my head wrapped around the fact that the sexiest man I have ever encountered is sitting across from me talking to my kid. But I really don’t care about wrapping my head around him I’d much rather wrap my legs around… I can’t finish that thought with my son sitting next to me.

“Do you have a stage name?” Diego asks.

“The Punisher.” Jake replies.

“That’s a movie.” Diego exclaims. “With Sylvester Stallone. Are you a vigilante like him?”

“No little man, I’m just a fighter who fights with other fighters.”

“I don’t think I want to be a fighter mom.” My curious son concludes.

“I think that’s a good idea sweetie.”

Over the course of the hour that Jake sits with us I’m grateful my son is here. I’m still feeling a little flustered from the drugs and I’m not really in a very talkative mood. Fortunately he carries the conversation.  I can’t help but sneak looks as often as I can get away with. As my eyes settle on his moving lips as he talks to Diego I can’t help but wonder what they would feel like on mine. Is he a rough, aggressive kisser, or a smoothly talented one? The man has a passion for fighting. In my experience men who have such powerful passions for things outside the bedroom generally have similar passions inside the bedroom. A man who can go toe to toe in the ring for 13 rounds has to be capable of going more than thirty minutes in the sack. I watch his hands as he gestures while talking. I like a man who is animated. My ex always had his arms crossed when he talked to anyone. I should have known he would be an impossible nut to crack judging by how closed off he always presented himself. Jake is open and I believe, an honest man.

But he’s a fighter! There’s no way a man with guns like Jakes can have gotten those without a little help from the needle. I sat back and watched my son’s father lose himself in the dark world of performance enhancing drugs and I’ll be damned if I’m going to go through
that
again.

Jake is showing Diego his arms and talking about his workout regimen. He’s just leaving out one important ingredient; anabolic steroids. I think I’ve had enough.  I’m about to announce that we have to go when he stands.

“It’s been nice talking to you…well, your son.” He says. “And maybe one day I can talk to his mother. But for now, I have to hit the gym.”

“I’ll walk you out.” I say to him. “Stay right here Diego, mommy will be right back.”

“Are you guys gonna kiss?”

“What?” I whirl around and shoot him a shut your mouth look before turning around. “Sorry mom, it’s just that way you guys have been staring at each other…”

“You mind your own business.” I snap. “I’ll be back soon and there’ll be no kissing going on here.”

“Whatever…”

I turn back around and follow Jake out of the café. We walk down the block to a black Ford F150, nice and clean. Probably only a couple years old by the looks of it.

“This is me.” He announces.

Then he just takes two steps towards me, slips one hand around my waist and pulls me right into his embrace. I open my mouth to protest when he just covers it with his own mouth. A surge of anger is almost immediately replaced by a surge of passion. My brain screams stop but I just can’t get the word out of my mouth; especially when it’s covered by Jakes firm lips and thrusting tongue. It just takes a few seconds before my stiff as a board posture begins to melt into Jake’s embrace. There’s something different about the way he kisses that I can’t quite put my finger on. My ex-husband kissed very aggressively too but there was a difference. King kissed like he owned you. Jake kisses like he can’t get enough of me.

The minute our tongues first flicked across each other’s path it was electrifying and tingles of pure pleasure gave me chills from my head all the way down my spine and back again. For a minute I completely forget we’re standing in public on the sidewalk that others are actively using. Finally I come to my senses. I put my hands on Jake’s chest with the intention of shoving him backwards but the second I feel the ripple of his muscles I can’t make myself reject him and my hands just stay there on his chest unmoving.

Finally I do the one thing I can do to break the spell. I kick him in the shin with the sharp edge of my shoe.

“Ow!” He yelps, dancing backwards. “What the hell was that for?”

“That was for kissing me.”

“Wow… what constitutes a kick in the balls?”

“You ever try to cop a feel and you’ll see.”

“Why the hostility all of a sudden? Am I that bad a kisser? Honest, I can do better than that.”

“Yeah I’m sure you can, just not on me though.”

“Alright, suit yourself. Here.” He says handing me two tickets. “Just in case you want to bring someone. You will come right?”

“Sure I’ll come. I can’t wait to see somebody kick your ass.” I say. Then seeing his expression I flash him a smile to take some of the sting out of my words. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there but it’ll just be me.”

“Okay, whatever you do is fine.”

“Of course it is.” I reply as I turn to leave.

I resist the temptation to look back at him. I can feel his eyes on my back…well more like my ass so I put just a little wiggle in my step for his benefit. When I return to our table I know something is wrong instantly. Diego is literally shaking in fear.

“What happened?” I ask as I sit next to him, taking him in my arms. “Did you see something bad?” I don’t know what he could have seen in here that would scare him like this though.

“A bad man mommy. A really bad man.” He says as his little arms circle around my waist holding me like he’s never gonna let me go.

“Did someone bother you honey?”

He nods.

“What did he look like?”

“Big.” He replies. “Real big and mean looking too.”

“What else do you remember?” As I sit here holding my son I can feel waves of fear breaking over me. “What else did he look like honey?”

“He had…had a red sun tattoo on the back of his head.”

Sudden shock sends bolts of fear shooting through my body and I have to fight to keep from being totally overwhelmed by the feelings. How the hell did he find me? He can’t think Diego was Ethan. Ethan would have been fifteen and not ten like Diego. I have to wonder if his showing up today has anything to do with my mysterious appearance back in California. Have I led him to me and my son? What have I been doing over the past week or so?

“Mom you’re shaking.” Diego observes.

“Mommy’s just a little cold, that’s all.”

I have to be strong for Diego. I have to be strong for my little boy but how can I when I feel like my world is about to come crashing around my head? There’s only one person in this whole world that I know who has a sunburst on the back of his bald head; King’s best friend, Boomer. At this point, the only thing I can think is that I finally decided to get revenge on my ex-husband and Boomer and I came to California to do it. That doesn’t sound like me at all. This is just crazy! That’s the
only
thing I am sure about.

I turn my attention back to Diego. “What did he say to you sweetie? Did he hurt you?”

“He didn’t do anything. He just gave me this.”

Diego hands me a piece of paper with a number written on it. I don’t recognize the number. It’s probably to a burner phone so it can’t be traced back to whoever this asshole is that scared my son. So now I’m being stalked back. I went after Boomer and now he’s going after me. I stand up and address the patrons sitting around us.

“Excuse me please. Excuse me! Did anyone see a very large scary man approach my son a couple minutes ago?”

People look around at each other for a minute before an elderly woman raises her hand.

“Did you see the man?” I ask her.

“Yes, he was the largest man I have ever seen in my life. Had this crazed look in his eyes.”

“My son says he didn’t hurt him. What did you see?”

“Well…he sat down in the booth opposite your son. They talked but I couldn’t hear what was being said. Clearly your boy was terrified. He didn’t touch your son. I watched and was ready to dial 911 on my phone if he did but he didn’t. He just talked and then he gave him a slip of paper.”

“Yeah I got that. It was a phone number. Did you see which way the man went or if he got into a car or on a motorcycle?”

“Yes yes. I walked over to the door after he walked out. He got on this giant black motorcycle and left down that way.”

“Thank you so much ma’am. Why don’t you let me pay for your meal? It’s the least I can do for the person who looked after my son.”

She shakes her head. “No need to do that.” She says but I can clearly see she is pleased at the prospect of a free meal so when her waitress comes by with her check I walk over and pick it up from the table.

“Thank you sweetie!” She says as she gets up from her table.

“No, thank you for looking out after my son.”

The sweet old lady nods, smiles and leaves. The world would be a better place if there were more people like her in it.

“We still going to the park mom?”

“Yes Diego, we’re still going to the park but mommy has to stop off at the store quickly. It’ll just take a minute.”

“Fine.”

“You’re sure he didn’t hurt you? He didn’t kick you in the shin beneath the table or anything?”

“Relax mom, I’m fine. He just kept glaring at me and that’s when I got scared.”

I give him another hug. “Alright…I get it, your fine. But if you remember-”

“Mom!”

“Okay I’ll shut up.”

About four blocks down the street is a store that sells burner phones. I get two just in case and pop in the sim cards. Now it’s time to go to the park on Moeser Street. Diego practically leaps out of the car when we pull up. He’s been cooped up way too long in the hotel for a kid his age, especially for one with his level of energy. I sit down on the bench, take out the paper with the number on it and punch in the numbers. Just before I hit send I pause. What am I going to say to him? If he is Boomer, why does he want to talk to me on the phone? He could have just waited for me to come back to my table and forced the conversation there. I punch the green talk button despite my misgivings.

On about the fourth ring a male voice answers and it sends cold chills through my body. I’d recognize his voice anywhere.

“Why are you harassing my son Boomer?”

“Hello to you too Christine.” He says.

I try again. “Why are you following us?”

“Me following you?” He asks. If that ain’t the pot calling the kettle black I don’t know what is. What the fuck are
you
doing back in California bitch? And what have you done with King?”