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The pieces of betrayal and confrontation are falling into place.
Chapter 75
Ben is going home…and Elaine meets a new friend
Tomorrow, Ben will be leaving the hospital. His rather secretive medical treatment has drawn little attention. The medical center at Bristol Cove is still reeling from Tia's cell phone frequency attack. Having a Naval VIP in an isolated corridor of the hospital with an armed guard outside his door appears to be par for the course in this sleepy little fishing village. At least for the last year and a half.
"You were the first person I saw when my eyes opened." He forces the words. Taking a breath, Ben smiles and continues. "I'll never leave you again. I had nightmares of what must have happened with the Russians." A slight gasp of air from Ben precedes teeth scraping a lower lip.
"Ben, I do have had nightmares. Nightmares of what I might cause." She sits on the side of his bed.
"Ryn, you only cause love. Do you understand?"
"But I cause trouble." She puts a slender finger on his lips blocking the reply. "I cause trouble between you and your family." Ryn shakes her head as he tries to respond. "I cause trouble between your friends. They don't understand our way."
Propping himself up to a sitting position, he grabs her shoulders.
"Our way is right. Ryn, our way is the only way to be."
Ryn tries to counter his declaration.
Pulling her closer to him, lips crash into each other. A sign from one undersea partner that speaking must be replaced with action.
An off-the road bar and known hangout of ex-cons of all descriptions.
Along the dirt road a Mercedes C-300 is parked. The black 4-door is nestled in a cluster of tall bush. The moonless night makes it invisible to any passing vehicle.
Walking a short distance to the log-cabin type structure, the tall self-assured figure passes two bikers emptying their beer cans.
One of them snorts a short laugh and tells the advancing figure, "honey…you're in the wrong neighborhood." Eliciting a subtle chuckle from his colleague.
Upon entrance, the dark, dingy atmosphere of this once boarded up dive pays no notice to the tall women scanning the bar.
ZZ Top's Gimme all your lovin' serenades the leather jacket clad clientele. Hunched over the pool table, a gray bearded hulk of a man in a cut-off blue-jean jacket prepares to take a shot. At first glance, he appears to be wearing a colorful long sleeve t-shirt underneath the modest jacket. An ensemble of gothic figures with the occasional avenging angel tell a long forgotten story. The dull shine of the tattoos help each work of art to blend in.
"Are you Elvis? Elvis Conti?" The low tone travels along the phrases of the song and enters his ear.
"Hey, sweetcakes. Come here." A large palm with sausage-like fingers grabs the women's arm. "What's your name sweetcakes."
She turns toward the unwanted advance. The culprit has had his eye on this unusual visitor since she entered.
"I don't give that information out." A twinkle in her eye which has the appearance of ice reflecting a deep blue sky focus on the bullish form now pushing his nose onto her cheek.
"Jake, leave her alone." A high-pitched female voice seeps into the group of mouth-breathers.
"You shut dah hell up before I drag you outside." He sneers at the young woman, the low cut pink cannot hide the face of a cobra peeking over a elfin-like left breasts. "This bitch wants it. Why the hell she in here?" He states.
The petite redhead draws back as another older woman with a gray ponytail leads her to a darken corner of the bar.
"You sure smell pretty." He whispers.
Eyeing her surroundings, she waits for the man called Elvis to strike the cue ball.
As the blue and white striped #10 ball enters the pocket of the pool table, the woman's expression shows a growing grin.
"Come with me and I'll…" The unsolicited suitor cringes as a groan leaves his lips. "Ohh…what…ahh!"
A crowd gathers around the two as all eyes are fixed on her slender fingers grip the doubling figure's groin.
"Ok lady. You proved your point." One of the onlookers shouts, before letting out a chorus of chuckles.
"Get him out of here." The one called Elvis directs two other men to assist the kneeling and trembling hulk that now is emitting moans of agony.
"You are Elvis?" The composed woman asks.
"So, before you grab my balls in a way I don't like…yeah." His words leave through a smile.
"I want to talk to you." She replies.
"So talk. Over there." He points to an empty table away from the crowd.
"First, what the hell is your name? Wonder Woman?" After his question a screeching squeal is heard from outside as two bikers try to help the injured man onto his Harley.
"All you have to know is this." She takes a one hundred dollar bill from the vest pocket of her waist length black suede jacket. "This is just the start," pushing it into his jean jacket's chest pocket.
"Lady, you know I just got out of the joint." He pauses, "manslaughter."
"That's why I'm here." She says through a smirk.
Elvis sits back on the wooden chair and eyes the self-assured and attractive woman. His mind can't waver from her alluring quality.
She's not young. But damn, she is gorgeous. So damn strong.
His thoughts have been often expressed concerning the figure seated to his front.
Stem cell therapy is known to have that effect.
Elaine Pownall has learned to accept the obvious.
Note to reader:
I think you can figure what the future has in store for our favorite people. Ryn may lose her undersea empire, or maybe even her life.
Brother is definitely someone that looks to allign with the winning side. No matter, who it is.
Elaine...Elaine...does anyone know what is in that mind of hers?
