Chapter 13

The Other Man

Monday night, Oct 29 2012

Downtown Miami

Lumen took me to bar downtown; it was not a touristy type club, but a hip hop club in the inner city. She explained that she liked dancing in the poorer areas of the city because the dancing and music are better. Not only did she walk with confidence to the door, but she was apparently 'on the list'. One of the largest men I had ever seen was working the door, he was just short of 'Little Chino's' 6'9 but he had Chino by about 30 pounds of ebony muscle. He spoke with a heavy Creole accent, "Good evening my Lady. Here on business or pleasure this evening?" he asked as he put an armband on her.

"Pleasure hopefully Trey, how's your Modelaine?"

"The operation went well, thank you Miss." He looked at me holding my arm out for a band and I saw his muscles tighten, I think I actually heard them constrict, almost sounding like an archer pulling back a bow. He looked at her as if asking an unspoken question.

"Oh, Trey this isn't the man that hurt me, he is actually the one that saved me," she held my now incredibly small and inadequate arm.

He nodded his approval and put on my arm band and shook my hand, "Mesi, then you are truly my friend; I am Marckens Romeo Solaine III, they simply call me Trey."

"Dexter Morgan, it's nice to meet someone else who would like to get a hold of that guy." He nodded with a flash of murder in his eyes and I returned a flash of my own. He waved us on and spoke into a throat mic, the kind the military wore, "Miss Jones is here with a Caucasian gentleman in a blue suit. Prepare her table and keep an eye on them, you copy Rod?" She was too far in the club to overhear the exchange and I wondered if she knew that she had Guardian Angels here.

The club seemed to cater to Haitians most of all, and was playing hip hop tonight. She was well received and given a wide berth by those that saw her walking through the crowd. I wondered exactly how many skulls had been cracked by Trey on prior evenings to receive this kind of crowd effect. She was obviously in a club she had no business in, but no one was going to tell her that. The word was evidently out that she was 'Trey's bitch' to use the prison term; she was strictly hands off.

She was given the main booth in the VIP area and drinks were comped or on a running tab and she drank a bit on the heavy side, but it made her very elated and flirty. I had never seen her as happy as when we were dancing together. She was in her element.

Afterwards I drove her home to a nice high rise building on the beach; she pulled out her phone to alert security that she would be arriving. She introduced me to the guard, Carl, behind the counter as though she was introducing me to her father, which he quite well could have been by the way he was eyeing me. He had me show my ID and log into a visitor's log. She explained why in the elevator, all part of her sculpted security plan.

The door opened to her floor, 13 which I thought of wryly, and we got out. We walked to her door, she swayed her hips a bit more than normal, either do to drink or the dancing, or most likely somewhere in between. At the far end of the hall, her peep hole could see all the way down the hallway. She nervously fumbled with the keys; unlocking the door but not opening it she turned and squeezed my hand. "Now Dexter, I need to introduce you to the other man in my life… wait here a sec, and don't open the door." She pressed her index finger to my mouth, "be right back." She opened the door and slipped in, leaving me in stunned silence.

"Other man in her life…?" I repeated out loud, what was she trying to...? It hit me like a frying pan over the head, the thought of her opening door with a child in her arms struck a twang of mortal fear in me that I had never before known. Fear was an unknown creature to me, a mythical beast that only existed to primitive people. When Rita blurted out that she was pregnant I had felt totally confused, flabbergasted.

This time there was nothing but complete and total abstract horror. I couldn't help but lament how far the elevator was or else I could make a break for it, I even turned to double check and saw it was headed down. She opened the door wide and saw the stunned look on my now pale, blood drained face and looked puzzled. She motioned me in and I stumbled, clubfooted, through the entryway feeling like a vampire going across a threshold uninvited. I looked around wary for some sort of trap.

"Now he is really smart but with your previous experiences I knew that you wouldn't want to come if you knew before hand. Dexter I would like you to meet Zeus, Zeus meet Dexter." She motioned to a German Sheppard sitting in the corner behind the door. He was sitting perfectly still, showing canines and his hackles were raised but he was not barking or growling.

I put my hand to my heart and involuntarily sighed, "I had a panic attack in the hallway; I thought you were going to open the door with a kid…"

"Oh, no," she waved dismissively, "the baby is sleeping…" my eyes opened wide before she let out a small snort of laughter and put her hand over her mouth, grinning she quipped "I guess three children are enough for you Mr. Morgan? I wouldn't have kept it from you that would've been cruel." It sounded like a statement, but it also seemed to be an inference that it could only be mine, sort of, good to know without having to ask.

"Well, I hadn't really thought about having anymore, but then I didn't really think about it the first time either. I was of the prior opinion that monsters shouldn't reproduce."

"Oh…!" she said with her eyes wide. She then oddly handed me a carrot, which I stared at stupidly. She then looked at the dog and said, "Herr Zeus, Bekannter! Okay Dex, slowly step forward and hold out the carrot." I walked forward with the carrot extended until the dog took it, glaring at me the whole time. He held the carrot in his mouth and kept staring with hate filled eyes; it made me wonder if he was Sgt Doakes reincarnated. "Bekannter…!" she repeated. "Zeus!" she said in a scolding tone. The dog tore his eyes away reluctantly in a very Doakes like way. "Wache…!" she pointed at the door. He lay down, with the carrot still in his mouth. "Gut Zeus…" It was eyeing me again and I could imagine a Doakes like voice saying, 'I'm watching you mother fucker…' Animals and I had a mutual hatred of one another, especially dogs. I always assumed it was because they thought I was there to kill their masters, often they were right.

"Wow, you're right, dogs do hate you. I was telling him you're a friend; he apparently has his own opinion. Come on, he'll leave us alone now," she pulled me energetically into the living room. "He cost me fifty thousand dollars but he makes me feel safer than a security system, he is a trained military guard dog. He can track people and sniff for drugs, explosives and cadavers too. He will attack and kill anyone coming in here unless I instruct otherwise. Just ignore him and he will ignore you. I need to freshen up, give me a minute. Make me a drink will you, strong like my men…" she gave my arm a squeeze and left. She had a full standing bar against the back wall, complete with refrigerator. She had limes and mint in the fridge, so figured she liked mojitos.

She returned as I finished the drinks, she poked her head the corner smiling. "Please step into the middle of the room and close your eyes good sir." I complied with just a small amount of apprehension. I couldn't hear her walk over to me, but I could smell her. "No peeking…" I felt her hand on my hip and it slid down to my knee as she knelt in front of me. Then I heard the very distinct sound of metal dragging on metal, a blade was being drawn, a very long blade. I swallowed hard and for some reason became very highly aroused, the monster in me awoke with a start and I heard a dark rolling chuckle.

"Egh hmm…" she coughed obviously wanting me to open my eyes. She was kneeling down in front of me on both knees, her arms extended, and her head deeply bowed in submission. In her outstretched arms she was holding a gleaming metal sword, a Katana, the weapon of the Samurai.

She said in a soft serious voice, "My intentions as a lover are true and honorable. I lay all my fortunes at your feet and pledge to follow you, my lord, throughout the world. If your intentions differ, please make a quick end of me."

I took the sword, carefully. Its hilt wrappings felt ancient, I could see the use on the flat of the blade but the edge was razor sharp, as it moved through the air the blade almost seemed to whisper to me, it had a dark whisper of its own urging for blood and combat. This sword wasn't a tourist piece or a movie prop, it was all too real. How many criminals had the ancient samurai dispatched beneath its steel, or had Lumen for that matter?

Looking down, she was still bowed. "Please stand before me," I said trying to sound authoritative as possible.

She stood slowly keeping her head bowed and eyes down. She had changed clothing, she was wearing two wide strips of white cotton, like a sash over each shoulder which covered her breasts and met in the middle, held together with a belt, the remaining cloth hung between her legs. She looked like a virgin sacrificial offering that was to be fed to some beast, I thought wryly, and the beast within chuckled again giving his nod of approval of both offerings.

I put an arm around her naked waist which was cool and damp as though she rinsed off, "I now hold the two most beautiful and deadly things I have ever seen… Did you know a katana is never to be drawn from its scabbard without drawing blood?" She nodded and bit her lip, in a cute childlike display of being in trouble.

On impulse I pressed my index finger to the point of the sword ever so slightly, drawing a bead of blood. I moved the point slightly towards her; she reached out and pricked her finger as well. I held my hand up, palm out, she did the same. We pressed our hands together, our blood intermixing. "I pledge myself to you Lumen, my mind, my body, and my soul."

"My soul, my body, and my mind, I pledge to you Dexter Morgan." She held her bloody finger to my lips and I followed suit.

I placed my sword gingerly in its sheath.