Warlock of Omaha Chapter 7 Denoun

I left the bunkhouse, kept my rifle up and scanned the interior of the warehouse. I was wary of another ambush. But my wariness was the stuff of closing barn doors after the horse has already run off. I dropped the rifle to hang on my stomach by it's strap and grabbed Jake by the shoulders of his hoodie. He was two hundred pounds plus of solid weight and giving me no help as he moaned and bubbled quietly. I didn't think I could clean and jerk him over a shoulder, so I dragged him.

I got a look at a couple of the MiBs I had shot earlier on the way to the front door. They were people, but had apparently been completely encased in pale mud plaster mixed with leaves and twigs. The exterior appearance the guards had before they were shot bore no resemblance to the people who had been inside the plaster. No doubt they had a big bucket of leafy twiggy pale mud plaster back at Evil Monster HQ just waiting for me. "Lovely," I thought, as I grunted and heaved, dragging Jake's huge body out.

The front door of the warehouse opened easily from the inside. I dragged Jake out, then looked both ways. It was all deserted, still being Oh dark thirty in the middle of nowhere Carter Lake on a school night. I got Jake across the road to the minivan and opened the side door. It was a real pain heaving him up to the floor of the minivan.

"Why couldn't I have kept one more gummy for this!" I thought to myself as I strained to move Jake smoothly into the minivan's nice empty cargo compartment. Jake's groans showed I was clearly only partially succeeding. Then it was an even more awkward pain shoving him in. Once I had the torso in, it wasn't too bad. I got in the driver's seat and called Miranda.

Miranda answered, "Oh hi." Her voice so cute and muzzy with sleep.

I felt bad to worry her, but I needed what I was about to ask for.

"Miranda, I need you to check with the other girls, see if anyone knows anyone with emergency medical experience."

"Oh! Are you all right?" She asked worried.

"Yes, I'm fine. Jake's been hurt and he can't go to an ER. Talk to the other girls and call me right back." I answered.

"Okay will do." She answered and got off the phone.

Less than ten minutes later Miranda called me back.

"The best we can come up with is my friend Kelly in the culinary program. She was an ER nurse for a few years before she decided to go back to school."

"That sounds great." I answered as she gave me Kelly's phone number.

I dialed Kelly's number a few times before she answered, obviously tired and a bit frustrated, "Who is this?"

"Hi, I'm a friend of Miranda's, she recommended I call you." I answered.

"What is this about?" She asked still a bit muzzy and confused.

I continued, "I have a special scholarship offer for you that can't wait. I suspect that you have substantial student loans from your current program, and perhaps from your previous education. I suspect that you also have substantial tuition and fees still to absorb before you complete your current program."

"Well, yeah." She answered.

"I would be happy to clear all of those loans and see all future charges paid."

"What? Really?" She answered no longer muzzy. Clearly, I now had her attention.

"There is a special application process for this scholarship that might be somewhat ethically challenging. I will be at," I gave her the hotel and room number, "in a few minutes with a man badly wounded from a number of gunshots. He can't go to a hospital. I have a substantial first-aid kit. However, any other gear necessary you will have to bring. Any that can be purchased, I will be happy to reimburse you for. However, considering the urgency and time of night, you may have to use some ingenuity. The scholarship offer is contingent on my friend getting good care quickly, not on his survival, though if he survives there could be a substantial bonus. Is this offer acceptable to you?"

"Um, yeah." She said. "I'll need to do some things. I'll be there in about an hour."

I was hoping what she needed to do was not call the police, but sometimes risk must be accepted.

We got to the hotel. Luckily, Jake had a ground floor room as the hotel had no elevator. I parked illegally near the back door, got a luggage cart and used it to drag Jake to his room. It was another ordeal getting him off the luggage cart and onto the bed. Once I had him on the bed, I made him as comfortable as I could. I then took the luggage rack back and got the med kit, it was big. I took that moment to take off my gauntlets, leg armor and rifle and leave them in the van. I also picked up a big stack of towels and sheets from the utility room.

A little while later there was a knock on the door. I let in a late twenty something woman with dirty blond hair wearing scrubs.

"Kelly, I hope?" I asked.

"Yes, it's me." She answered with the same voice as the phone.

She had a large knapsack on her shoulder.

I showed her to Jake and the first aid kit I had and she set to. I helped in minor ways as she worked. She cut his clothes off. He had managed to accumulate six separate bullet holes in his right leg and gut. Kelly prioritized, dug out slugs and sowed things up. She also got IV s into him.

I collected up Jake's ruined clothes as well as the many towels and sheets we had hopelessly soiled.

When she was done, Kelly looked at me and said, "I'm not a trauma surgeon, this isn't an operating suite and we're not in an intensive care department. He could have internal bleeding and infections. He could still die very easily. Also, I may get in trouble for taking this gear from Presbyterian."

I looked at her and said, "I believe you have fulfilled the basic terms of the scholarship. If there's a problem with Presbyterian, you have my cell phone number, please call, I'll intervene."

It had been several hours, and she looked at me and said, "I have some things I need to look after, but I'll keep coming back and looking after him."

"I would very much appreciate that." I answered.

I stayed with Jake. He didn't wake up until Monday morning. Miranda brought Kelly and me food. Kelly wasn't there every minute, but she was there a lot. Later I would find out Kelly had a son named Michael and was a single mother, so her absences more than made sense.

Once Jake woke up, it was clear that the danger was past. Kelly and I kept visiting him but by the following Thursday he was up and about and able to look after himself.

As soon as he woke up and was self-aware, I made a point of sitting next to Jake to talk.

"I would expect you have questions about what happened?" I began.

"Well, yeah, a lot. What happened to Cassie?" Jake asked.

"I have bad news about that." I answered.

"No, it's not possible! We we're supposed to save her!" Jake was starting to lose it.

"It's actually worse than that. Cassie was one of them. She was using you to lure me in." I said.

"That's a load of bullshit! I knew Cassie! That's not possible!" Jake started shouting.

I then pulled out my cell phone and played back our whole conversation. Even through the phone's tinny speakers her voice was seductive. It was the first time I had listened the whole way through. I had been distracted when she said it the first time.

When the recording was over, Jake had tears in his eyes.

"That Bitch!"

I think Jake would have rather been shot again.

Kelly had a Bachelor's in Nursing that had been paid in student loans and was two years into the culinary program also all on student loans. I cleared the loans and paid all her tuition and fees for the final year. I determined that Kelly and Michael were living in a not very nice apartment in a bad school district and were two months behind on rent. I paid the rent and had them moved to a nice apartment near her school. I paid moving costs, lease signing expenses and the first year of rent. Kelly was driving a very beat up old Toyota Corolla that was upside down. I took her to the Subaru dealership, traded the Toyota for a new Forrester, paid cash, and had them register the car in her name. In Nebraska, car registration and sales tax are expensive, so I covered those as well. I contacted her insurance agent, upgraded the insurance and paid it a year in advance. Then had the agent send future bills to me. I got a credit card for a local gas station chain and gave it to Kelly so she wouldn't have to worry about gas prices. I determined that Michael's father had never been part of the equation and that Michael had accumulated expensive medical bills from an earlier medical condition. I paid those. Kelly also had substantial credit card bills so I paid those as well. Michael was in first grade. I had him registered at the best private school in Omaha, Brown, and paid the tuition and fees. Michael was going to a shoddy day care after school, so I found a top quality after school program and paid for it. I also opened credit accounts at a local department store and Whole Foods which Kelly got access to. I'm sure I was missing things but that was a good start.

Once Jake was back on his feet, I ran a few more batches of bolts. I drove to Chicago and stayed at the Palmer House. I hired a limousine and went to see the Svartalves. Everything went the same as it had the last time around. I pulled out the case, put it on the table and laid out the trays. Mr. Honi and Mr. Guna took about fifteen seconds each to review each bolt. They were wearing gloves that managed to look both elegantly stylish and work practical. A few hours later, they looked at me and smiled.

Mr. Honi said, "Thank-you for the bolts. If we have anything else to do together, we will contact you."

With that Mr. Honi and Mr. Guna packed up the bolts and left the room.

I had a date with my corporate lawyer that night. We went out for a great steak dinner and then back to my hotel room for some quality time.

It reminded me of how we met.

It was during my Bright Futures Society visit. I had just made my first presentation to the Svartalves. Like this visit, I had no idea if it had gone well or been a complete disaster. It's hard to describe how I felt. The meeting with the Svartalves had been like the ultimate job interview. Succeed, gain security and untold success. Fail and I was probably facing a fate worse than death. Having agonized for months on what to say, having said it, and now having zero idea how it had gone, I was, to put it mildly, stressed out. I was sitting in my suite exhausted and couldn't calm down. I decided that a nice glass of bourbon in the hotel bar might help, so I pulled myself together and went downstairs.

The Palmer House is a really nice hotel and it has a really nice bar, the Potter Bar. Of course, it's all really expensive. It was late on a Thursday night and the bar was almost empty. I sat in a comfortable chair by a small table and the bartender, a well dressed young man, came and got my order for a glass of house bourbon and ice. I watched him go back to the bar pour my glass, put a bit of ice in and bring it back to me. He set down my glass on a cloth napkin and left.

I sipped my bourbon and did breathing exercises and otherwise worked to calm myself. I became aware that there was one other person in the bar. She was wearing a very nice business suit and was seated by herself at a table, documents spread about in a very orderly manner with a glass of white wine beside her. I would guess her age as late thirties and very well kept.

I waived the bartended over, "Would you please inquire of the lady if she would be kind enough to let me buy her a drink?"

The bartender replied, "Certainly sir." and walked over to her.

She looked up at me and smiled. She held up her glass and swirled it about.

The bartender returned, "She says she has a drink, but wouldn't mind some company."

Well, I couldn't ask for that to go any better, could I?

I walked over as she collected her papers. She had long dark brown hair and as she leaned forward to collect her papers I saw the back of her neck. The Japanese are right, there is something very erotic about the back of a woman's neck. She leaned back up and smiled at me as I finished walking to her table.

As I got there, I smiled back awkwardly and asked, "Do you mind if I join you?"

"No, please have a seat." She replied with a very pleasant and self-assured voice.

I tried not to be obvious, but I gave her a hard magical once over as I sat down. Probably looked like I was staring. She was, to all appearances, a perfectly normal, mundane human. Definitely lived in her head.

I sat down in one of the big comfy chairs, setting my drink down carefully. Then introduced myself, "Hi, I'm Jack Fox. I'm visiting from Omaha."

"Omaha?" She replied teasingly, "So you made it to the big city. Good for you."

"I take it you're a native of this fair city?" I answered.

"Yes, I work just down the block." She answered smiling.

"This workplace of yours is so poor they can't afford a table for you to do your work?" I asked in teasing reply.

"Of course, they can't just let me go sit in a cornfield like you're used to." She replied, apparently enjoying the reparte. "Actually, I find it sometimes pleasant to work late here instead. It can be quiet, and no one looks at you funny if you have a glass of wine while you work."

"It's pretty late to still be working, what are you doing, developing a cure for cancer?" I asked, still trying to be cute.

"No, I'm a corporate attorney. My firm has a number of clients in the city and region. I want to make partner before I turn forty, so I have to work harder than the next associate, and they work pretty hard." She answered fairly seriously.

I had been asking smartass questions, trying to be charming, to which she had replied warmly and matter-of-factly. I decided to change tacks. I said simply, "Well that's very convenient."

When I didn't speak for a second, she bit and asked, "How is that convenient?"

"I have a consultancy in Omaha. I work on enterprise computer security for a number of clients. It may not sound very glamorous, but it's actually less glamorous than you'd think. That said, it pays the bills, but my clients require my discretion. Since I imagine your clients do the same, we can respect that about each other and neither of us will have to worry about one trying to wheedle secrets from the other." I answered seriously.

Her eyes twinkled as she thought through the advantages and answered, "That is convenient."

She started to slowly pack up her papers as she asked, "So what brings you to the windy city?"

"What you'd expect. Meetings with potential clients today. Suppliers tomorrow and Saturday, maybe Sunday. Hopefully, it'll be a bit of a working vacation too."

"What would make it a vacation?" She asked innocently.

"Meeting someone really interesting." I answered.

"That's a tall order. What do you think the odds are of that?" She asked in reply.

"Ten minutes ago I would have said, 'Very poor.' Now I'm becoming a lot more hopeful."

That made her smile.

"Is this your first visit to Chicago?" She asked.

"Actually, yes it is." I answered.

"I bet you haven't tried the brownies." She said with a nice smile.

"I guess not. Are they good?" I answered a bit confused.

"Palmer House brownies are as good as they get! Did you know they were invented here?" She asked.

"Here in Chicago?" I answered, still a bit confused.

"No right here at the Palmer House, for the Chicago Worlds Fair." She explained.

"Then I have to order some for us." I said.

"No, you're a Palmer House brownie virgin. I have to order." She said and waived her hand.

The bartender came back and she ordered us a brownie. When it came, it was as good as advertised.

I found the experience of sitting there, eating my very good brownie with my good glass of whiskey while talking to an intelligent, interesting and accomplished woman both relaxing and exciting at the same time. Most importantly, very distracting.

"You know you offered me a drink." She said after a bit when our brownies were gone.

I immediately started to wave for the bartender.

"No," she said. "I understand they have something really good in the rooms. We should see if it's stocked in yours."

"That's a question I would really like answered as well." I replied, hoping my voice didn't crack with eagerness.

She had collected all her papers and folders neatly into a valise. The thing was way too big to be an attaché. She could have a bazooka in it, or a bomb big enough to take down the hotel. I had looked her over pretty carefully, she seemed mundane and thinking about her cases, but it's not like a pro couldn't put up a counter illusion. The smart thing would be to go to bed alone. But she was classy and beautiful in a mature way that made her far more intriguing than one of my college girls. We got to my suite, we didn't really spend any time looking for liquor and what we did really helped calm me down so I could get some sleep.

The obvious question at this point, I suppose, would be: Did I use a seeming? The answer is no. I experimented a bit when I first mastered seemings and decided it was impractical to use them for one-night stands. That leads to another question I could imagine from my imaginary critics, is it wrong, immoral, or unethical for me to use my seemings? Perhaps to myself, I feel, but not to anyone else. I have been thinking about it a lot since my time with Poison Ivy.

I can imagine if someone heard about my seemings, it might sound like I was using evil magic powers to seduce these poor innocent girls against their will. I think of seemings as essentially gentle effects, which change how I seem, not how the girl thinks. The seemings are designed to help me seduce a girl's will, not control it. If the girl is not interested, despite my very alluring seeming, she can walk away.

There are magic techniques for mind control, they're evil and destructive. Essentially, you're moving the furniture around inside someone's skull. There are many problems with doing that, starting with every move is destructive. Further, each piece of furniture may have general purposes, but there are huge numbers of secondary connections in a human brain, breaking them, which moving the furniture inevitably does, can cause all sorts of unintended consequences. I don't do that.

There are also conventional brainwashing techniques, generally using drugs, torture and other unsavory things. A little magical insight would be very useful in such a process. One could know if one was pushing not far enough, too far, or just right. What was giving the subject the will to resist. Etc. I definitely don't do that.

The girls I seduce with my seemings want me for the same reasons girls fall all over pro ballplayers, singers, handsome young billionaires, etc. The seeming makes me seem extremely intriguing. That said, there is no chain on the girl's foot, no lock on the door and any girl who would want to leave knows she would be sped on her way with money in her pocket and my best wishes for her success and happiness.

Financially, it's a windfall for the girls. All the girls I recruit are grad students. Most grad students like to live in private housing. My girls live with me, their housing, board and transportation taken care of. They mostly come with deep student loans and have steep tuition and fees still to pay. I take care of those. I think the lack of financial fear helps them focus more deeply on their studies. Further, they gain real and valuable experience. Take Miranda for example. The typical student in her program is lucky to have a hot plate and toaster in her apartment. For their class projects, they have to use facilities at school which are okay, but not great, and shared. They have limited budgets for ingredients. Miranda has access to her own pro grade kitchen and an unlimited budget for ingredients. When she has to prepare something for class, that has to be an edge. Further, most of Miranda's classmates are lucky if they can get a line cook job while going to school. When Miranda's done with the program, she'll be able to say, truthfully, that she ran a pro grade kitchen and cooked for an entire household. Diane can say she looked after a large estate's grounds. Holly can say she managed a large estate. Those are the kind of lines on a resume that help a young graduate stand out from the crowd.

I can hear critics saying that "Yeah, those are nice benefits, but they have to sleep with you to get them."

To that I only offer the wisdom of the golden rule. The Golden Rule is important to me, and for the cynics to me it means, "Do Unto Others as You Would Have Done to You."

I remember being in my early twenties. I was, like most of the male population of the world at the time, a big fan of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit models. Elle Macpherson and Stephanie Seymour were a big deal. I particularly had a crush on Stephanie. If Stephanie had wandered through my life and said, "Come back to my hotel room, I want to boink your brains out." I would have gone happily.

Obviously, the next morning, I would have been desperate to see if there was some way to extend the relationship. Even if she had declined, as I did after one-night stands when first experimenting with seemings, while I would have been very disappointed, I would have also been the owner of a sexual experience that would have warmed the remainder of my life and been intensely grateful.

If Stephanie had said, "Why don't you come back and live at my luxurious mansion? I like to keep a few boys around the place. I'd expect you to maintain the computers and clean the toilets. The boys mostly wear very small, very tight spandex shorts, bow ties and nothing else and every so often I'd probably use you for sex."

I would have killed or died for that offer.

Obviously, the offer I give my girls is much nicer, and by the way, their manner of dress is up to them. I have never given them a suggestion to dress that way.

So no, I hadn't used a seeming on my corporate attorney friend, though I suspect she would have liked it. Why not? I guess I was just curious to see if I was enough without it. I suppose every celebrity who can get girls by the bucket load is happy at first, but then starts to wonder if the girls like him for the celebrity or himself. I was in the fortunate position that I could simply just not turn it on.

I met the corporate attorney again on Friday and Saturday night, so I guess she liked me well enough. We had a conversation on Saturday night about the future.

"I'm not interested in becoming your girlfriend or more, I'm focused on my career and probably always will be. That said, when you come back to Chicago, or I have a trip to Omaha, I wouldn't mind having something to look forward to. Also, every so often, I have to make an appearance at a social function, it could be very useful to have someone appropriate on my arm. I would be willing to do the same for you in reverse, when possible." She explained.

"That sounds like a very practical arrangement, I would also like something to look forward to in those circumstances. There is one thing you need to understand about me though." I replied.

"What's that?" She asked.

"I work in security. Knowing and being around me can be dangerous. If the wrong people found out, they could decide to harm you to get to me. Or they might try to harm me while you were around and think of you as in the way. It's never been an issue yet, but it could happen." I answered.

"Well that just adds a nice little spice of danger to the whole thing." She answered smiling, I don't think she took it very seriously, but then went on, "Actually I already thought of that. You would not believe how much more paranoid they have become about security here in Chicago the last couple years. I guess it comes with the territory."

On her first visit to Omaha she landed on a Friday morning and insisted on having a taxi take her to meetings all day. She let me pick her up Friday night. I took her to a show and a nice dinner. Then back to my garret. I have a small but very comfortable apartment above my garage. Most of my seductions end up there. It keeps the women separated from my life and seeing that I have a harem.

That was ruined when Miranda brought us a nice breakfast in a skimpy outfit Saturday morning.

"Who is that?" She asked in a bemused but very curious way as soon as Miranda left.

"That's Miranda. She's one of the girls who lives with me." I answered truthfully expecting things to go south quickly.

"There's more than one?" She asked.

"Yes, I have three girls living with me. They do various household chores and no, it's not a platonic relationship." I answered.

"So let me get this straight. You have three young hotties living with you, prancing around in outfits like that, and ready for action at moment's notice?" She asked.

"Yes." I answered matter of factly.

"But you pushed all that aside for me?" She continued.

"Yes." I answered again.

"That is so validating." She said with a genuinely pleased smile.

She had to work more on Saturday, but we got together again Saturday night. This time I brought her to the main house. All my girls were giggling about my "girlfriend." I thought they would be put out, but instead, seemed happy for me.

We saw each other again when I came back for the bolt order and she had visited in Omaha once more. I also went for a Christmas eve party her firm held where I was appropriate and well-dressed arm candy. There was a particularly nice reward for that one.

If there is one lingering problem about Poison Ivy, it's that she burst my complacent bubble about my love life. I know that this may sound like a rich guy's problem. I've climbed the gold mountain of sex. Yes, I have three girls at home always at the ready. I have this relationship with my corporate attorney from Chicago. Beyond that, I'm pretty promiscuous, the garret sees a substantial variety of visitors. I was happy with that. I'm living the kind of fantasy most guys can only dream of. At the same time, I haven't felt fascinated by a woman the way I was fascinated by Poison Ivy in forever. Also, at some level, I want to find the right woman and settle down, maybe have some kids. I haven't really thought about that in a long time. When I was an awkward student, I was grateful for any female attention. Then as a young guy, I was hardly super successful, but I had my moments and really was just focused on partying and having a good time. Since the White Man, I've been in disaster recovery crises mode. Women have been for stress relief and housekeeping. In fact, I had been considering adding a fourth girl to the household. A girl that could help me in the shop could save me a lot of time.

My current life is also VERY comfortable. I could clear my decks and send the girls on their way, but then how would the chores get done? They save me a lot of time and not so pleasant chores. What Poison Ivy showed me though, was what I was missing. I want to feel that kind of passion. I want to feel real love and commitment. It was now on my mind. A lot.

Back home. After Jake looked like he was past danger I got some errands done. I took the mini-van to a nearby car wash and had it thoroughly detailed.

I told the detail guy, "We went hunting and got a deer. The tarp in the back got messed up. I don't want to bring it back like this, they'll charge me an arm and a leg and the New Yorker running the place will probably call the police."

I slipped him an extra hundred and he did a pretty good job. I got the bench back in by means of the luggage cart but didn't bother to attach it. Then I returned the van.

Holly took me back out to the boat landing, and I collected the Infiniti.

I had Jed help me collect up Jake's bike from the hotel and bring it back to my place.

I could have handed the bike to Jed and Jed would have done an excellent job, but it felt like something I had to do myself.

I could see the bike had a cracked header to and was leaking oil from a blown gasket to start. I disassembled the bike down to parts. The engine was basically good so I rebuilt it with all new gaskets and some harder wearing bits so it would tolerate the ethanol in modern gasoline better. I replaced the header. The transmission was also bad, so that went to a place that sent me a rebuilt replacement as soon as they received the broken one. The brakes were in a bad way, so they got rebuilt. The forks were good, but the rear shock was shot so that got replaced. The seat was worn and torn so it went to the upholsterers. Many of the body components were rusted so they went to the chrome and body shop and were refurbished. Front and back wheels got new meats. The gas tank was shot, so it got a new tank. All rubber parts were replaced. Any bolt showing wear was replaced. The only performance upgrade was changing the headlight's incandescent light bulb to a high-performance xenon one. I then reassembled the bike. I didn't make it into a show ready model, but the bike did look a lot better, more importantly, it ran better. It would have probably been cheaper to buy a new bike, not to mention saved me a lot of time, but sometimes one does things for emotional reasons not logical ones.

Back home I got a call from Kelly. She and Jake seemed to be getting along pretty well now.

"I got a call from Presbyterian."

I got the name, a Mr. Hegelberg. Kelly had apparently visited the Pres Emergency room on the way to me and filled up a knapsack with needed supplies. Kelly was a skilled emergency room nurse, a wonderful mother and a budding chef. She was not a master thief and the security cameras at Pres had clear evidence.

I visited Mr. Hegelberg and we agreed that if we paid back the $16,000 that the materials she borrowed from them had cost and made an additional $10,000 donation, they wouldn't have to pursue the matter further.

I met with Kelly later to tell her the good news. I expected her to be happy or relieved, but she still seemed nervous.

"Is something bothering you?" I finally asked.

She looked stressed but finally answered, "You've been doing a lot for me and Michael. I'm worried about what you expect in return?"

I was kind of surprised. I decided to address the first concern first.

"No, I don't expect you to sleep with me. I'm doing these things out of a sense of gratitude. You should not feel indebted to me for them. In our first conversation I mentioned a bonus if Jake lived. Jake lived. You could consider this all an earned bonus. Further, I've taken some liberties without asking, like enrolling your son in that school. Expecting you to have to pay for uniforms and school supplies would be thoughtless and rude on my part. In truth, I do hope to become friends and colleagues. I work in a dangerous business. I might need the kind of help you gave Jake again. However, none of what I've done is contingent on that help and if you don't want to the next time, it will not change what I'm doing."

"Oh okay." She answered. I think she was a little surprised by my answer, she was probably expecting me to put the squeeze on her for sex. She was pretty, but I had no such intention.

"You should also understand that what we were doing when Jake was hurt was trying to rescue a young woman from a bad situation. It didn't work out and Jake was hurt. The kind of people who had the young woman don't have to worry about things like the police. They're also the kind of people who might track someone like Jake back to a hospital and kill him there, maybe by blowing up the hospital and a lot of innocent people. I got your help because it was the best chance he had."

"That sounds pretty wild." She said.

"You should also be aware that hanging around people like Jake and me is inherently dangerous. It hasn't come up yet, but it could. I'd like you to stay, but you're under no obligation."

"I think, for the time being, I'd prefer to stay." She answered.

"I'm glad to hear that." I replied.

I spent a lot of time with Jake as he recovered. When he was reasonably mobile, I checked him out of the hotel and moved him into a nice efficiency apartment next to Kelly's.

When I brought the bike back and gave him the keys his face lit up, "My Dad's bike!"

I guess the work was worth it.

There are nights in my home when I sleep alone. Nights when one girl joins me. Not too many when two join me, the third feels left out, and some nights when we all stay together. In the house, there's a home theater room I call the "Den."

It has some nice comfy chairs and a big comfy couch I sit in. There's a big floor with really thick carpet and lots of odd shaped pillows and quilts. Sometimes a girl sits with me on the couch. Sometimes they lie about the floor, often doing homework. We spend a lot of evenings in the Den. It's a comfortable spot to unwind. There's a 110 inch super high performance screen and a sound system that will make most IMAX theaters weep with envy. Miranda will bring me dinner here if I want it and snacks and drinks if we all hang out.

It was my first night back after seeing Jake to his new apartment. We ended up staying together on the floor.

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