Page 70 of The Fallen Man
“What do you meanagain?”
“You remember that guy that was waiting for me outside the first night we hooked up? He showed up at work and got all aggro and grabbed my neck.”
“What?”
“It’s fine. One of the other customers punched him and I hit him with a Jack Daniels bottle.”
“Then why isn’t he in jail?” demanded Jackson.
“He ran off before Vince’s guys could grab him. I don’t even know how he got in. Vince was on a rampage about it. They got his license plate, but I told them not to bother calling the cops.”
“Why the fuck not? That’s assault and battery.”
She turned away, rubbing her head in the way she did when she was anxious. “I didn’t want to talk to the police. Or follow up. Or testify. Or deal with that shit. I can’t take on anymore projects. I didn’t think he’d show up again.”
“He’s outside your fucking apartment.”
She grimaced. “I can’t call the cops. He’s in the park, which is a public space. I’ll go in tomorrow, and Vince and I will report it.”
Jackson pulled on his pants and shoes. He didn’t bother with his shirt. He wasn’t going to need it.
“Where are you going?” She grabbed his button-up and came after him as he went down the stairs, pulling it on as she went. “Jackson!”
He was across the street and into the park before the asshole knew he was coming. Jackson recognized the clipped haircut and stocky build as the Russian from the parking lot. He didn’t bother to re-introduce himself. Jackson grabbed him off the park bench where he was laughing with Rufus and some of the regular users, and threw the man down on the ground. The Russian jumped up with a growl. Jackson punched him twice and then began to drag him back to the street. The neighborhood crew just watched.
Katie was on the stoop in his shirt. The man pushed back trying to clear space and start punching. Jackson hit him again and rammed his head into the side of a car.
“Komu vona nalezhyt?”Jackson demanded in Ukrainian and punched him again. He pulled him into the street and kicked him.“Komu vona nalezhyt?”Jackson yelled again, grabbing him by the hair. Blood was dripping from the man’s face. Jackson punched again and shoved him toward the car. The man fumbled at his waistband for his gun, and Jackson took it away from him and pistol-whipped him with it.
“Komu vona nalezhyt?”he asked standing over the man.
“You!” the man yelled.
Jackson cocked the gun.
“She belongs to you!” the man screamed putting up his hands.
Jackson looked up and realized that he was in front of an audience that included most of the street dealers and a group of kids that included Jamal.
“Come back again, and no one will find your body.”
The man staggered to his feet and then stumbled to his car. The tires squealed as he left the neighborhood.
“Jamal, it’s a fucking school night, go home,” said Jackson as he went back across the street. Katie didn’t say anything. She just turned around and went inside. He locked the door and followed her up the stairs. He could see her ass under his shirt as she climbed the stairs in front of him. It made him hard.
“Go to the bed,” he said when they reached the apartment. He knew the sentence was off, but was having to work hard not to say it in Ukrainian. He tossed the gun down on the table and went into the kitchen.
“Are you coming?”
“I don’t want to touch you until I’ve washed my hands.”
She was naked on the bed when he came in. The lights were off, but he could see her in the glow of the street lights. He stripped off his pants and pulled on a condom.
He kissed his way up her legs and body. It was perfunctory. They both knew it. He moved her leg, holding her by the hip, but she locked her legs, squeezing him tightly, preventing him from entering her.
“I don’t belong to you,” she said.
He stared down at her. Yes, she did. She was his. No one else was allowed to touch her. He pushed against her leg, but she refused to move.
