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Convicted

By: Matt Moreau



"Arthur Reardon, You have been found guilty of aggravated mayhem by a jury of your peers. You are hereby sentenced to ten years imprisonment, that, to be served in an institution to be determined by the appropriate agency of the State Bureau of Prisons," said the judge. 

The gavel sounded and I was a convict. I was stood up, cuffed to a waist chain, and my ankles shackled. I glanced back at Rhena, my wife, who stood but a few feet behind me in the first row. Her face was ashen. She mouthed some words at me.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I am so very sorry." As well she might have been. 

Her lover, Brad Kursk, her boss at the Kursk Insurance Agency (KIA), had spent a good three months in the hospital: the result of me catching her with him in our bed and the fight that had ensued. It might not have been so bad for me, had I not kept pounding on him after he was essentially done. Well, I was angry—really really angry.

My lawyer had tried to sell the jury on the fact that I'd lost it, was temporarily insane; but, in the end the photographs of the cheating bastard in traction did me in. Too bad I didn't have photos of him banging her in my marital bed; that would have been more than a mitigating circumstance in my opinion.

******

Rhena and I had met and dated in high school, were separated when we graduated and went our separate ways to college: she to State University majoring in Business, me to Hardin Industrial Institute to be an electrician. We returned to Clark City, Mizzou, some thirteen months apart, and as fate would have it, reignited our relationship at a concert held at our old high school and fisponsored by the school's parent teacher organization. We were married eighteen months later. She was twenty-five, me twenty-six.

We set up housekeeping in a small three bedroom place in town that her grandma had left her, and we were off and running in the race of life.

She had signed on at KIA almost immediately after having graduated from college. I, on the other hand, had had to work freelance for a little while until a buddy of mine got me hooked up with a union shop in town, Halstead Construction. But all's well that ends well, and once employed I made really good bucks working mostly on highrise projects that required pretty sophisticated wiring and related security stuff. 

We were happy, the both of us. No doubt about that. But happy people seem to draw a lot of flies and wannabes who aren't themselves satisfied with their situations.

Money evidently had not been enough for Brad Kursk, and he had plenty of that. He was known to have tasted the sexual favors of any number of married or committed women and been responsible for at least three divorces—and—rumor had it, one suicide as a result of his proclivities. 

Good 'ole Brad, as I later discovered, had the hots for Rhena and had expended some significant energy in trying to seduce her. But, as indicated, I had had not a clue until the three of us had run into each other at a public auction were Rhena and I were looking to find ourselves a newer model car at bargain basement prices. Fortuitously, as I thought at the time, Brad was at the auction not to buy, but to sell. You guessed it, two newer model cars. 

Discovering our reason for being where we were, he put but one of his cars up for auction. His other vehicle, a 2008 Ford one ton, he virtually gave to us. We paid a total of three thousand dollars including costs. I was ecstatic. Brad was even more ecstatic. He was more than certain that, what amounted to his largesse, was naught but a free pass into my wife's pants. It turned out that he was right to be confident. So why was a ladies man of Brad's obvious talents so interested in my wife? Well, the obvious of course.

Rhena wasn't good looking, oh no, she was shockingly good looking. Five-nine, slim, flaming red hair, the bright freckled complexion of a teenager, 34Bs, a bubble butt, and a personality that commanded not only the attention but the obedience of any male she deigned to cast her glance upon. Oh no, she was born to be the target of men like Brad Kursk. 

And what about me? Well, I sure as hell ain't chopped liver. Five-ten, one-seventy; most of my hair still with me; athlete in high school, football (defensive back); and college, boxing, where I was state middleweight champion in my junior year. My dad had been a pug, did a lot of club stuff, and I almost went the same route; but he, my dad, wasn't having any of that; so, my second love, electronics, became my passion. Well, I was good at it.

******

Rhena did visit me once while I was in county. She cried a little and then told me that she wouldn't be coming up to see me anymore. Her reason? She couldn't stand to see me like that. I didn't protest. I figured the marriage was toast anyway. She didn't love me. She couldn't have doing what she been doing with that guy. 

"Arthur, I love you, no matter what you think," she said. "Please try to understand. Kursk is not replacing you in my heart. He was just a mistake. Just a guy I made a mistake with. I take full responsibility for what happened. But, again, I just can't come here and see you like this. I just can't."

"Whatever, Rhena, Don't be frettin' yourself. I did the crime so I'll do the time. I don't blame you for that. I do blame you though for not being faithful to our marriage, your vows. I'll be a long time gettin' over that," I said. She cried at my words.

"I'm sorry, Arthur, really I am," she said. I nodded.

"Yeah, well, whatever," I said.

We talked a little longer; then, she was gone. It would be a long time before I would see her again, and that, having not heard from her even once during that long time.

The trip up to the penitentiary was a long one. I had a chance to meditate on how I'd ended up behind bars; and, I made plans as to how I would deal with my current situation. What I might do when I got out, I had not a clue. Realistically, I figured that that, getting out, would be in about six or seven years with good behavior. That'd make me thirty-six or thirty-seven years old. I'd still be young enough to make a life for myself. I sighed. A half dozen years—if I were lucky!

******

My first couple of days at state were mainly orientation, vaccination, uniform distribution, and an interview with a psychologist. Then, it was off to my place of residence for the next several years.

My cellmate, Demetrius Untalan, was a black man. And, no, he wasn't any three-hundred pound gorilla; he was about my size—five-nine or ten and one-seventy. And, as it turned out, he was in for the same thing I was: messing up the guy doing his wife, damn near killed him was the way Dem told it. Oh, and he didn't have a lot of remorse. But, maybe oddly, he didn't really blame the guy; he blamed her. He beat the shit out of the guy, but that was just a case of him taking out on him what he just couldn't bring himself to do to her. I figured he and I would have a lot to talk about as time went on.

******

The first day or two after orientation and processing went okay. Well, as okay as it would ever get. The nights were bad. All I thought about was Rhena. I needed the cheating bitch; I needed her bad. And, in the deepest darkest part of the night, I cried. I didn't make any noise. No one had to tell me to shut up. I just suffered mentally and alone. 

On day four, I had the second of the two showers I would get each week. I also had the snot beat outta me by big Ben Whitcomb and two of his associates, all of them twice my size. I got a few shots in, but not nearly enough to slow down the group of them. After which, I sucked his cock. I was told to expect to have to do it whenever the mood struck him. Tell the guards? Demetrius informed me that doing so would find me impaled on some guy's shiv. Ratting out the baddies and the bullies was unacceptable at state. 

Over the next several months I was raped twice, forced to suck Ben Whitcomb's cock a dozen times at least, and generally degraded and humiliated beyond anything I'd ever read or heard of. My thoughts of my wife and her lover turned acidic: I hated them. I blamed them for everything. Yeah, yeah, I know, I shoulda just dumped her cheating ass and built myself a new life when I discovered them, but I didn't. 

But, then, a few months and a couple more rapes later, it stopped; the sexual assaults on me by Whitcomb stopped, and not because of anything I did or said. 

Sean Riley, a huge six-six, and easily three-fifty Irishman and ex pug himself, saved me. Sean was, as it turned out, ultra-religious. He led a small, but physically large, cadre of fellow godly types—maybe a dozen men. Their mission was to put an end the worst of the inmate-on-inmate-brutality in our block. I joined their group and finally my fists and speed became useful: I backed up our crew any number of times and was able to give a good enough account of myself. As a result, I more or less became Sean's right hand man. I swore that someday I'd pay him back for his help. 

******

Time passed, and again, true to her word, I never saw or heard from my wife. She hadn't divorced me. I knew that, or I would have gotten the bad news—I guess it would have been bad news—that I had been. I was into year five when something happened that gave purpose to my existence.

At meals I invariably sat near Sean and the others—self-preservation being what it was. Same for Demetrius, who I'd been able to bring into crew membership. Over time I got Sean's story. He was in for attempted murder. Some druggie had hooked his wife and his preteen kid—there'd also been a six year old. His wife ended up fucking the man for product though Sean didn't know that at the time. 

Sean'd done everything to get his wife and kid off the stuff including getting them—his wife and older kid— arrested. But, they'd gotten out; she'd gotten a headhunter for a lawyer, filed for divorce, and destroyed their family. He'd stewed for months after the divorce; then, he'd heard that his wife—his ex-wife at that point—was doing the guy. He'd gone looking for them, had caught them together; and, like Demetrius and myself, had done the guy great bodily harm. Now, Sean was doing a hard twenty.

We were eating. As he munched down on a roll, Whitcomb came strolling by. I got a dirty look, but he didn't try to go eye-to eye with Sean; nobody in the joint was wanting to do that on purpose let alone in our block.

We were about to leave the mess hall when Sean caught up with me on the way to the yard. "Got a minute," he said.

"For you? Is that a serious question?" I said.

We took a walk around the makeshift track that some of the inmates used to stay in shape.

"Arthur, I've been in this damn place for almost sixteen years, and I'm gonna be forty-five in a couple of months, and I'll be fifty by the time I fly outta here. Anyway, I'm told that you're up for an early parole," he said.

I looked him askance. "And, you know this how?" I said. I hadn't heard word one, but if Sean said it, it was likely true.

"I've got sources," he said. "Both outside and inside. Arthur, I'm gonna ask you for a little favor. Would that be all right?" I nodded. 

"Of course," I said.

"It's been so long for me, but I dream about my woman every night; and my girls morning, noon, and night! So like I said, I need a favor." 

"Name it," I said.

"Well, as you know, my wife divorced me. My kids, well, they were young when I went inside: six and twelve actually. They're grown now, probably have families of their own; I hope they do. They've never visited me or written or anything; so, I have no way of knowing anything about them. I wonder if you'd maybe, well, maybe be able to find out a little about them. You know let me know how they're doing. I really need to know," he said.

"Sean, absolutely. I owe you. I'll get you what you need. I promise," I said. "I mean if I do get out before you." He smiled.

"You will," he said. And I did. Not only did I get out, I got out free and clear: no parole requirements. I'd done my time, and if I kept my nose clean I'd not be going back—ever!

******

The bus deposited me in front of the bank in my old home town. Nobody was there to greet me. Well, and why would they be. I'd told nobody I was coming back. And, truth be told I wasn't sure until my last day inside that I would be, coming back to my old haunts that is. But, with Sean coming from a town only fifty miles up state; well, it was a no brainer.

The Blue Collar was a bar I'd stopped at a few times in the distant past: it was across the street, well, catty-corner, to the bank. I stopped there now. I had close to three hundred and fifty dollars in my pocket, a small tube bag with my worldly possessions in it, and absolutely nothing else. I was not quite thirty-six and starting over, helluva note. I'd be needing a job.

The barkeep, a young guy, approached. I ordered, and a yellow pepsi appeared thirty seconds later. God it tasted good. My first drink in goin' on six years. I surveyed the place. Hadn't changed much. Some newer tables, a more up to date music machine, and of course the new bartender—well— new to me.

I signaled Danny, that's what his name badge said, and ordered my second brew. 

"You new around here?" he said, setting the beer down in front of me, and I guess thinking to be sociable. 

"Not exactly. New again, as you might say," I said. He nodded, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. He seemed to have gotten something. "Just get out?" I looked at him and snickered.

"Yeah. Is it that obvious?" I said.

"Spent a little time inside myself," he said. I gave him a questioning look.

"I'm a little older than I look," he said. "Did a year and a half, and got paroled. I'm cool now." He saw the unvoiced question in my look. "Breaking and entering and simple robbery. Three years." I nodded.  

"Say, you know if anyone around here is hiring?" I said.

"Full time or part time?" he said.

"Well, I need a job. Full time would be better, but..." I started.

"We're hiring here. Pay ain't the greatest, but the work is steady, and the tips can be pretty good sometimes. You know anything about booze?" he said. I smiled, but didn't answer his question right away.

"No offense, but you look kinda young to be offering jobs to people," I said.

"I'm thirty-one and I own the place," he said. "Well, my wife Pamela actually. She's a great lady and stuck by me when I was inside. Being a con, I couldn't get a liquor license of course, at least not while I was on parole; but, she had no such problem." 

"Really. But, if you needed money bad enough to rob some place...?" I started.

"Well, we did at the time, but she makes pretty good bread now, and while I was inside, she was able to save enough to get this place and the license."

"Wow! Talk about a lucky stiff. You gotta be the poster boy," I said.

"Yeah, I guess you could make a case for that," he said.

"So what does your wife do?" I said.

"She's an escort," he said. I was sure my surprise—no shock—was showing. He laughed.

"What can I say? It works for us," he said.

"But, if the law catches up with her..." I said.

"No, no, what she does is legal. She's quite the looker, and men flock to her just to be around her. Oh, she gives it up now and again, goes with the territory. Mainly to keep her high end clients on the hook; but, never for money per se, I mean not directly: no cash ever changes hands" he said.

"And you're okay with her—you know," I started.

"Sure, she always comes home to me, and has never given me reason to believe that she's been emotionally involved with any of them, her customers," he said. I was nodding.

"Okay," I said. "But, to answer your question from before, I know how to mix most normal drinks. I'd need a book to put together, say, a Singapore Sling and the like." He smiled again. 

"No problem, then," he said, "you're hired. You start tonight." And I did. And I only broke one glass—a beer glass; nothing was said.

******

My day off was Monday—yeah only one day off. But since I worked the 5PM to 2AM shift the other six days; I did have my days free. This last fact would be working for me. Plus, I didn't complain; I was gettin' eight bucks an hour and all my tips were mine. Hey, it's a living. I'm pulling down four and a half most weeks with tips. 

Danny, Danny Williams, as it turned out, gave me a place to shack up temporarily. His house had a small room for the odd guest above the garage. He let me have it gratis for the week, that until I could find me a place and generally get settled in.

My first day above the garage, was interesting. I met Pamela Williams. She was indeed a looker. Five-five, and not a pound over one-o-five; and, a dazzling figure. Hell, I'd have paid to have her escort me for damn sure.

"So, you're our new houseguest," said Pamela.

"Yes, ma'am," I said. "Danny was good enough to help me out. Things are a little tight right at the moment. You know financially." She nodded.

"Well, that's okay. I think you'll like working at the collar. The neighborhood folks are friendly, and business is pretty good," she said.

"Well, thank you ma'am, I appreciate you guys helping out, like I said," I said.

"Oh pooh, Danny needs the help, and you strike me as the kind of guy who will do a good job. And, I'm a pretty good judge of character," said Pamela. 

We talked for a few more minutes, and then she showed me around, and finally left me to my own devices. I decided that I liked the Williams' family.

I found a place walking distance from the bar on my second Monday off: $350 which included the basic utilities; it wasn't much of a place for damn sure, but it suited me. Danny fronted me the money for the first and last month's rent, so I was able to hold on to my meager funds for food and such. Also on that first day, I did some checking to see if I could locate Sean's kids—and— his wife. When I went to see the guy, Sean, which I fully intended to do, I would not be going empty handed. Little did I know just how true that thought was going to prove to be. 

Armed with Sean's old address, I began my search. Luck was with me. She still lived in the same house she and Sean had shared sixteen years gone.

I hesitated before going up to the door and knocking. But, at length I went. A tallish, middle aged woman, still attractive and slim answered the door. 

"Yes, can I help you?" she said.

"Marissa Riley?" I said.

"Yes?" she said.

My name's Arthur, Arthur Reardon," I said. "I'm, well, I'm a friend of Sean's."

Her face darkened. "He and I are done. If you know him, you must know that. So, if you'll excuse me..."

"Mrs. Riley, if I may, I'm not here to cause you any embarrassment or difficulty. But, well, Sean saved me in the joint, and I promised I'd at least try to get him word about you and his children if I could. Could I—would it be all right if..." She sighed, stepped back, and opened the door wider so I could enter.

Ten minutes later, coffee on the kitchen table in front us, the two of us, I got the story. Sean had told it straight. She had been screwed and screwed over by a druggie. And, the final bit of news: his elder daughter, Claire Riley, then twelve years old, had OD'd and died not a month after Sean had gone inside. 

"So you see Mr. Reardon, going to see Sean or even writing him is a non-happening. I couldn't bring myself to face him after our Claire died, and I still can't," she said.

"Mrs. Riley, I can't speak for Sean; but he is a God fearing man who knows how to forgive. Yes, it will hurt him real bad to hear about your daughter, but he is going to hear about it sooner or later anyway. In my opinion it would be better coming from you than from anyone else. I have to believe you know that," I said. She nodded.

"Mr. Reardon, I'm a weak woman that's why it was so easy for those dealers to trap me, and, for me to allow my daughter to get involved. Do you know that Calvin Johnson, the dealer who Sean caught me in bed with, also fucked our daughter. It was part of the price for getting the free ice. Sean is in prison, yes; but I'm in prison too, Mr. Reardon; and my sentence, my punishment, is for life. I actually need Sean, but I can never have him because I killed our baby. Oh, I didn't actually give her the dose that killed her, but it was my fault right enough, all my fault."


Convicted



"Mrs. Riley, I'm not here to judge anybody. But, bad things sometimes happen to good people. It's life. You need to go see Sean, tell him the story, and let him have a chance to forgive you, and yes, to mourn his baby. 

"Can I ask, your other daughter...?"

"Veronica," said Mrs. Riley.

"Veronica. She should go too. Sean will be out in a few years, maybe even sooner. When he is out he will find you and ask you the hard questions anyway. Go see him, Marissa. He needs you and he needs to know the truth from you," I said.

We talked a little longer, and she cried the whole time. I did find out some more about Veronica Riley age twenty-three; I knew Sean would appreciate the fact that she was a college student attending the university on a full ride scholarship. 

I don't know why Sean's wife talked to me; I mean a stranger knocking on her door and mentioning her husband's name. It could only be because the stars were aligned in perfect order for her to tell her tale and confess her sins. I gave her my phone number, well, the number of the Blue Collar, and asked her to call if she felt the need. I would be looking after her for Sean's sake to the extent that she'd allow me to and their daughter too.

******

It was a full week later that I got a visit at the Blue Collar. 

"Marissa, glad to see you. What can I do for you?" I said.

"Yes, Mr. Reardon thank you for setting me straight. I went to see Sean. You were right. It was the right thing to do. It was tense at first, but well, again, you were right; he is a forgiving man. We mostly just cried together for the whole time. He told me to tell you he owes you," she said.

"Marissa, he doesn't owe me a damn thing. He saved my ass inside, and I will never forget it," I said. "But I am glad things are working out for you.

"Can I ask? Did Veronica go with you?" I said.

"No, no, I had to do this first visit alone. I mean, well you understand," she said. "But, I think she's decided to go up there next month. Anyway, I guess, we'll just have to wait and see," she said. I nodded.

"I'm going to get up there myself before too long," I said. I checked, and even though I'm an ex-con, they'll let me in to see him. They've humanized some of the rules up there in recent years, I guess."

"Well, good, I know he'll be glad to see you. 

"I'd be going myself; I mean next month, but—well—it's a long drive and I don't make a lot of money. But, I am going to try and see him every other month from now on," she said.

"I know he'll appreciate it," I said. We talked for a bit longer and then she was gone.

******

And then there was Rhena, my still wife that I had not seen in over six years. Did I want to see her? Yes and no. But, I sure did want to fuck her. 

I'd thought about her almost every day since I first went inside. Hell, there was no almost about it. She had a sweet pussy, and I frankly needed it real bad. The thought made me smile. I'd been out less than a month. But, I was employed. I was healthy. I was free of any probation restrictions. I wondered what she'd do or say if she saw me. I made the decision. 

I tried the old number; it rang.

"Hello," said the familiar voice.

"Hello, Rhena," I said.

"Arthur? Arthur! It's you! What? How?" she all but stammered.

"Yes, it is me. I've been out about a month. Any chance of you being willing to see me?" I said.

"Arthur—I—I—sure, yes, of course. Where?" she said. 

"The Blue Collar on fifth?" I said. 

"The Blue Collar? Okay. I remember the place. You and went there a few times. Sure, yes," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Seven tonight good?" 

"Yes, that would be fine," she said. 

******

Hanging up the phone, Rhena was at odds with herself. He who had been the love of her life was not only out, after so many years, he'd actually called her. She'd expected that she'd see him again, someday, but not on good terms. The truth was she expected that he would spit on her; but no, he'd sounded—something—horny!

Sweet Jesus! did he want a piece of ass! And if so, then what of William! Oh my. Oh my indeed. This could turn into something very weird. Arthur, her Arthur, had to know, suspect that she could not have gone six years without getting any. Heck, he very well knew that she couldn't six days without getting any. Oh my-oh my-oh my," she thought. 

******

Well there it was, I thought, I guessed we'd be seeing how things turned out. Was she still with Kursk? If so how would I handle it? If she were with him, how would she handle seeing me again was the better question? It was going to be an interesting meet up. But, no matter what, the first thing on the agenda was going to be getting my ball sack emptied and that not by the five sisters. 

******

I was early. Well okay, so I was anxious. I admit it. My anger had died over the years and had been replaced with desperation, desperation to get back to living a normal life—no—a good life. 

I saw her come in. She saw me. For as short moment time stood still. Jesus she was pretty, and it was clear she'd made an effort to be pretty. I hoped like hell her looking so good presaged a good fucking result for me. Man did I ever hope it did!

"Hello, Arthur," she said. Her tone was tentative.

"Hi, Rhena. You look very pretty tonight," I said. She seemed to relax at my tone, or, maybe my words.

"How are you my husband?" she said.

I shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Missed you. Hope you're doing good," I said.

Her turn to shrug. "I'm okay. Not starving to death. I missed you too, big guy," she said. I smiled.

"You still my wife, Rhena? Still want to be?" I said. Okay, I was getting right to it.

She slumped back into her seat. Just then the waitress came forward to take our orders. It was a welcome interruption. We ordered: a JD on the rocks for me and a white wine for her.

"I think so," she said. My brow knitted; I could feel it.

"I'm not—" I started.

"What I mean, Arthur, is that there has been a lot of water under our respective bridges, and, ideally we can get by it all and pick up the pieces of our marriage and get on. I want to do that. I really do. But...

"Since you called this morning, I've been thinking of what might come out of this sit down tonight. I'm sure you have too. I mean, you did make the call. And, I guess we need to hash things out and see where we're at," she said.

"Sounds about right to me," I said. The drinks came and, again, the waitress was timely. I'd have to be tipping her accordingly.

"Rhena, when I went inside, I have to say I actually hated you, And I wanted to kill Kursk. But, over the years, I've mellowed out. I met some guy, well, he straightened me out kinda. I don't hate anybody anymore, not even Kursk. But..."

"But, you're still not cool with me having a lover, I mean apart from you," she said.

"That's about the size of it, I guess," I said. "So, any chance?" She eyed me.

"I've had a lover or two over these past years," she said. "And, well, I have one now. He was not and is not intended to be long term—it's been about a year now though—and it would be hard to just abruptly tell him to get lost. I was sure you were going to be in prison for a few more years. But, well, you aren't, and I'm glad you aren't, and now you and I have to make some decisions."

"You damn near killed my last lover, Kursk..."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute," I said, some things she was saying were finally registering. "Am I to understand that Kursk is history? And, if so, may I ask is this new lover paying your bills?"

"Yes, and no. Yes, Kursk is history. He has a new chickee he likes better, so he gave me the door. I do still work there; well, I am good at what I do quite apart from fucking and sucking cock. And, to answer your second question, I pay my own bills. And again, Kursk and I have been broken up for the past three years. 

"Still, Like Kursk, who was never going to be a long term thing either, William will be gone one of these days too. He's twelve years younger than me, and sooner or later he's gonna be wanting some girl with a little less millage on her. I had intended to just go with the flow until that happened, until he dumped me, but now you're out; and well, we have to talk; we have to make decisions. If we can agree on how to handle things; then, I guess we'll be good," she said. "Anyway, that's what I meant."

"I see. Would I be right to assume that you would like to continue making it with this William fellow?" I said.

She eyed me for a long moment. She was clearly evaluating the usefulness of what she was about to say. "Yes, in the best of all possible worlds, yes," she said. I nodded.

"And me? Us?" I said.

"Again, in the best of all possible worlds you'd be my husband again. You'd tolerate my little thing on the side. And ninety-nine percent of the time it would be us and only us," she said. She sank back in her chair and waited for my reaction. I nodded slowly. She interrupted my thinking.

"Arthur, if I may. You've been out a month. Have you..."

I knew what she was asking. It kinda bothered me that she would be thinking about that particular thing, about asking, but I decided to be straight up with her. "No, not yet," I said.

"And you're..." she said.

"Horny? Yes," I said. She looked into my eyes, wrinkled her brow, stood, and came around the table to me.

She reached out her hand for mine. "Come on. We're going to get rid of your hornies first and then we'll talk some more if you want," I said. I didn't exactly jump up to follow her, but almost.

Our old place, hers now, looked the same on the outside. On the inside it had had a complete makeover. I told her so. "Looks nice," I said. "You've done a lot, made a lot of changes." She ignored me.

She sat me down at a new, to me, dinette table. It was a nice one. She noticed me admiring it.

"A gift," she said. I didn't ask any follow up questions, but I did nod my understanding. One or another of her lovers had given it to her.

I watched her disappear down the hallway. She'd be getting ready, I knew, powdering her nose, whatever.

She reappeared five minutes later. The yellow teddy, the matching panties that I could see through, the sheerness of the teddy's fabric tantalized me. Oh, and she smelled terrific.

"Sweet Jesus!" I said. "Rhena you're beautiful. Even in the darkest of nights, while I was inside, dreaming of you if you want to know; the vision I see in front of me right now never made an appearance."

She actually curtsied. "Thank you, Sir Galahad," she said. "Now if you will take me over to yon couch and begin kissing me and feeling me up, I would be most appreciative—it's a female thing."

I played along with the knight in shining armor thing she had going and let her place her left hand on my right forearm as I escorted her to her couch.

We sat beside each other lightly touching and kissing. After some little time I began massaging her breast. She shivered; it was delicious.

My hand slithered up the smoothness of her thigh and stopped just short of touching the hem of her panties. Her hand squeezed the hardness of my cock through the fabric of my jeans and I could almost feel precum oozing from the tip of my so far unexposed sex engine.

I hefted the sheer teddy over her head and off, tossing it to the floor behind the couch. Her breasts were now open to me, and I suckled on them as a small baby might a new mother's.

She slid to the floor and undid first my belt, then my pants, finally pulling them down and off of me. My underpants were next as she sought impatiently to get at my cock and balls.

She took hold of my dick and stroked me several times before leaning forward and taking half its five-inches in her mouth and massaging it with her tongue. I blew my load in less than three minutes.

"There, now you'll be able to last a little while, while you screw me," she said.

She remounted the couch and pushed her butt back at me. I peeled her panties down and off and began licking her crack and the secret harbored there. My cock, dead but minutes before, rose again to steel hardness once more.

I stood and pressed home my assault on her daintiness. She grunted a few times as I seesawed in an out of her trying to get her into the act as much as possible. Finally her feminine juices lubed her vagina and I took her fiercely. She moaned and squealed and then tensed and shuddered as she made it. I was inordinately proud of myself for having gotten her off; it hadn't always happened in the old days, but it did this time.

She sagged down onto the couch and pulled herself up into a fetal position. She mooed her satisfaction. It was a good moment. I slipped to the floor my face but inches from hers. Her eyes were closed; I kissed them.

As good as it had been, my fucking her; could I bring myself to share that exquisite body with another man, a boy? I wasn't sure.

******

Breakfast had only been coffee and toast and some light conversation. Neither of us wanted to awaken the elephant in the room. Would I allow her to keep her little thing on the side? Could I? And, if not, would she, could she, remain faithful to me? By lunch I had gotten up the courage to make a decision; I just wasn't sure what the decision would be; I was playing that one by ear.

"The tuna sandwiches were good. I'd forgotten how much better home cooking was compared to restaurant food; I mean even the simple stuff is better," I said. She smiled.

"Well, thanks for that," she said. "So, I guess this is it then. I can tell from your look that you've got something to say."

"Yes, yes, I do," I said. "You said it was my choice about you and your friends." I was being about as euphemistical as I could. I figured a lot of nasty language and attitude wasn't going to do it. The situation was so weird.

"Okay?" she said.

"You wanna play a little on the side. I'd prefer you not do it, but I am of the opinion that you will even if I put the boff on it. Oh, maybe not at first, and maybe not often, but you've tasted the forbidden fruit, and I'm figurin' it would be more than a bitch for you to give it up entirely," I said.

"Arthur, I will honor whatever decision you make. I'd like to keep my William, but my world does not revolve around him or anyone else. It revolves around you. 

"Last night was kind of a test for me. I did it to help you out on the one hand, but also to help me make up my mind. I needed to know if you would do me up right or if there was just too much water under the bridge to get past. The result was a major positive. Frankly, while I wasn't exactly surprised; I was, well, surprised.

"We could make it, and I could do it—remain faithful," she said. I looked dubious.

"Okay, then," I said. "I would appreciate it if you would dump the lovers and us make a fresh start." She didn't deflate. I figured she'd kinda made up her mind that what I'd opt for would be what I in fact did opt for. 

"Okay then," she said, "that's settled. I will be speaking to the man today. You can listen in if you want. But, I do have to let him know that now that you're back, he and I are done." I nodded.

"Okay then," I said. "But one last thing. If you do play after today, I will react to it. I don't know how I will react; I don't feature going back to prison for any reason, but I will react." Her turn to nod.

"I understand how you feel and where you are coming from. And, since you've put it out there. While I am certain today, that you and I can be good, there is always the human element. Maybe I will fail you down the line. I doubt it, but it could realistically happen. That said, if you do to some so far unidentified William or Kursk what you did to the first Kursk; believe it, I will do my level best to see that you are punished and go back to prison for a very long time.

"You almost killed the man, Arthur. Adultery, bad as it is, and I am here to accept the truth that it is and that I have been very bad; it is not a death penalty offense. Divorce me, get some honey on the side yourself, do anything else, but no violence. Clear?" she said. I nodded.

"Very clear," I said. She smiled.

"Well then, welcome home my darling," she said.

******

The guards actually remembered me; well, I had been their neighbor for six years. It gave me a warm and fuzzy feeling. 

He was already waiting for me in outdoor visitors' area. He stood up and came to me as I approached the cement table that he had been holding down.

"Good to see you, Sean," I said, coming up to him. His handshake was a little too enthusiastic, but I endured it.

"Arthur Reardon, I am forever in your debt. Until a few weeks ago... well, since then I've actually had purpose in my life. And, it's all your doing," he said.

"Yeah, well, I recall you helping me out in days gone by," I said. "Anyway, it is good to see you. I think your daughter will be up to see you soon too."

"Saw her today," he said. "She was here a little earlier. Man that was..." he started to cry. I just waited. This was one of those do not disturb moments.

"I saw her today, she was so beautiful, so tall and so beautiful. Arthur, she doesn't hate me," he said. I nodded.

"Well, what's to hate?" I said. "Sean the day will come when you get out of this hellhole, and they'll be waiting for you. You'll be able to work and have a family and get on with your life just like me."

"You and your wife?" he said.

"Yes, we're back together. Things are a little weird. But, good, good overall. I'm hopeful. I don't have to tell you—being away so long—it's gonna be a while before I really feel like I have my feet on the ground.

"You know the irony of it all: the guy I caught her with kicked her to the curb for some young chickee. Weird huh? And weirder, she still works for the guy. Evidently she is too valuable an employee to just up and fire. So, she has been able to support herself." He nodded, thought of something, and changed the subject.

"You're working." he said. I knew he knew I was. But, I wasn't sure how much Marissa had told him.

"Yeah, I got lucky. Got one the day I hit town. I'm a barkeep. Like the work, like the boss; he's a con by the way," I said.

"A con? Yeah, he married right, and when he got out she helped him get straight, and well, he's an all right guy," I said.

"I should be so lucky," he said. "I'm up for parole next month, but I won't get it. I never get it. I think they don't like big guys. I think my bein' so big intimidates them. I'll be doin' the rest of my twenty for sure; I got no illusions." I just nodded. Sean always knew what he was talking about. 

We talked for a while longer. We got to killing time and the siren sounded. The guards ushered us visitors out. Our farewell was not quite tearful, at least on his part. I'd be seein' him again and sooner than I expected as it turned out.

It was a long drive home, and I had an idea. At the very least it would make Sean feel better. I'd have to see about it and that immediately.

******

"Yes, Marissa, I know it won't guarantee anything, but his behavior has been good inside, and if you and Veronica were to, you know, tell your stories, leave nothing out; it might make a difference. At the very least he will be ecstatic over your support," I said.

She and I had been talking for a good long time. The bottom line was that the two of us were conspiring to get the parole board to do that which they had not done in four previous opportunities: release Sean Riley from the slam.

******

Those first days and weeks after our reunion were nothing less than fantastic as far as I was concerned. I knew for a flat fact the same could be said for my wife. Still, that said, there was something lurking in the shadows, behind the scene that I sensed more than knew for sure; something that was just waiting to sting us.




Convicted



The thing? The something? I'd come home early because of a toothache. It was a Friday night. And, cliché of clichés there was a strange car in the driveway. A Chevy Impala as it happened. It was a nice car, pinstriped, front end lowered, chromed pipes; it was a kid's car. I knew who the owner was without a doubt. Well, I knew his first name: William.

I parked on the street and went inside. They were making a lot of noise. I made myself a drink—straight Canadian on the rocks. I dallied. What was I going to do? I was a tough guy. I could probably mess the guy up. But, six years for doing that very thing to another guy kinda put the boff on that. 

I stirred my drink completely unnecessarily, and thought things out. If I went in and stopped it, how would she handle it from her end; I didn't give a rat's ass about how he'd handle it. And, if I did stop her what would be the bottom line after the fact. 

Could I deal with losing her? Could I just accept the fact that she was a whore and would never really stop? The supreme irony, if that's what one might be inclined call it, was the fact that I wasn't really angry. I was what? Maybe amused would be the best way to describe my feelings. Hell I didn't know, but it was something like that.

I decided to just wait and let them dictate the scene. I went into the den and turned on the TV. The Yankees and Red Sox were at it. The birds were up three to two; it was the top of the sixth.

"What's that?" said Rhena.

"Huh? I don't know. The TV?" he said.

"Get off of me and get dressed," she commanded. He did as he was told. I was up and making my second drink when they came down the hallway. They had to pass me. Did I say I was amused; well, I was.

He froze. He was no more than five feet from me. A handsome kid. Tall and skinny with wild brown hair and an out of place mustache. I decided to be nice.

"How yuh doin', William?" I said. "Want a drink?"

"Huh? Wha..." he started. Rhena rounded the corner and came to me. No, that's not right; she placed herself defensively between the kid and me. She was clearly worried.

"Arthur, please..." she said.

"Relax, Rhena, I'm not going to do anything untoward. Just relax."

"Kid?" I said, holding up an empty glass? 

"No, no sir," he said. "He was clearly scared to death.

"Had to come home early, honey, toothache. Danny's covering," I said.

"Arthur? What's going on? You are way to calm. Something's going on," she said.

I sighed. "Nothing. Well, I'm having a drink. You want one just say so; I'll make it for you. We'll talk later. Just relax, I'm not going to go off on you or the boy or anybody. I've learned my lesson in that regard. Okay?" I said.

"Arthur—okay—and yes we will talk if you want. 

"William, I guess you better be going. I'll walk you to the door," she said.

I heard her whispering to the kid, but I couldn't make out what they were saying: making a date for another time, warning him not to push me; it had to be something like that. I'd be asking her.

"He's gone," she said coming back into the den. I was again watching the tube. The birds had scored another run. I liked the Red Sox. My favorite team if it came to that; it kinda put me in a good mood.

"I'm sorry, Arthur. I couldn't—can't—help myself. I guess you'll be wanting to divorce me now. I am so sorry. I am also grateful you didn't well, you know," she said.

"Divorce you? I'm not going to divorce you. Do you want a divorce?" I said.

"Well, no—but..."

"Look, Rhena, I finally get it. Well, I think I do. You love me right enough, but you're basically a whore. Not a socially acceptable thing to be in most circles, but not all that uncommon either. 

"When I first got out, Danny told me about how he and his wife got on. You'd like her by the way, a real nice lady. Anyway, what he said made me think. I mean she's a paid escort, one that puts out when called upon to do so, but she always comes home to Danny; and, as he told me; she has never become emotionally involved with any of her—uh—clients," I said.

"Arthur, wait just a damn minute. You're not going to divorce me?" she said.

"No," I said.

"And you are not mad at me for—well—William," she said.

"Jury's still out on that one," I said. "But, insane with rage like I was with Kursk? No." She nodded.

"So—what do we do now?" she said.

"That's kind of up to you," I said.

"Me?"

"Yes, you still hot to trot?" I said. At first she looked perplexed, but then a smile started to spread across her face.

"Well, you did kind of interrupt us in the process. So, yes, I'm afraid I was kind of left hanging," she said.

"Well, since you did help me get rid of my hornies that first time after I got out; well, I guess I do feel the need to reciprocate," I said.

"Well, then do so," she said. I was smiling now as I led her to the couch.

"We'll still be doing some talking after the fact here," I said. "Never doubt it."

"I know. But fuck me first," she said. And, I did.

I took her missionary her legs splayed wide and her slit oozing her juices. The smell, the smell was almost overpowering. Woman smell, there is simply nothing like it; I was rock hard, and I was not gentle as I rammed my cock into her. She came, I came, I rolled off of her and lay panting beside her. We'd had far more imaginative sex in the time since we'd gotten back together, in the time since I had gotten back; but this more or less quickie was more satisfying, and no; I couldn't begin to say why.

We showered, made to get something to nibble on, and put on the coffee. I needed that cup of coffee; she opted for a coke. The nibbling was done on tuna sandwiches.

"You've been doing him right along haven't you?" I said.

She sighed. "Yes," she said. I nodded.

"And your promises to me?" I said.

"Made in good faith when I made them, but when I talked to him, told him we were done. The little shit cried. He is only a kid after all. Great cock, eight inches plus, and he has staying power; but, he's still just a kid, and a whiny one.

"For the record, you on the other hand are a man, a tough nasty ass man who's been around and knows the ropes. His dick is twice yours, but his assets pretty much end there."

"All of the above being true, and I do believe you, why didn't you keep your promises; I mean you said you meant to," I said.

She sighed again. "Like I said, he cried. I felt sorry for him. So, I consoled him, and told him that maybe I could figure a way for him and me to do it once in a while. It wouldn't be like before, but once in a while. You were never supposed to know. But, then, I made the fatal blunder of assuming your schedule would be normal, and we could do it here."

"Why here? You were taking a risk," I said.

"A minimal one. I decided to do it here in case you made a call home while you were working, something you've done more or less daily ever since we got back together. As for you coming home early; well, who the hell would have bet that a fucking toothache would be my undoing!" I laughed.

"Yeah, who'd have thought it," I said. 

"You're laughing. Am I, can I, assume we're still good?" she said.

"For now. You gonna keep seeing the kid?" I said.

"Would it doom us if I did?" she said. There it was. If I said no would she really stop? Maybe, she'd been caught. But, then again, maybe she'd just be more careful. The real question was did I give damn? Did it bother me? Thinking about it at that moment; it really didn't bother me. What did bother me was the possibility that I could lose the best piece of ass I'd ever had, and with it the woman I did consider my soulmate, that in spite of the kid.

"Would you leave me if I said to let him cry and dump him," I said. She hesitated.

"No, you're more important to me," she said. She'd hesitated. I made the decision.

"How often are you doing it with him?" I said.

"Before you came back three and four times a week. Now once every couple of weeks?" she said. "Always here, and always on nights when you closed at the bar," she said.

"Okay, keep your super dick, but keep to the same schedule. Do not increase it, and use the guest room for crying out loud, not our bed. Jesus, that pissed me off," I said. "Our bed is where you and I make love, commit ourselves to each other. Okay!" I said.

"Really!" she said. Her look was disbelieving, but excited too.

"Yes, I guess, really. 

"I saw his look tonight when he'd been caught. He's afraid of me, and well he might be. But, that said, he has nothing to fear, so long as he doesn't get arrogant or try to do you more than a couple of times a month. I can live with that much. I lived without pussy for six years. So, so long as I feel good about who you love—me—I guess I can live with a little scheduled adultery."

She got up from her seat at the table across from me, came to me and kissed me lovingly. "You won't be sorry," she said.

"Well, that's my hope," I said.

"Arthur, one more thing. I have to say, I really appreciate it that you didn't mess him up. I know you could have; and well, again, I appreciate it that you didn't," she said. I nodded. The kid had gotten a free pass, but it was a one use only. If he stuck to the rules, he'd be okay. If not—not.

"No problem," I said. "Just make sure he sticks to the rules," she nodded.

We'd been back together for almost a year. I'd be thirty-eight in a couple of months, but I felt older.

******

"You caught her fucking some snot nose kid?" said Danny, as he set my drink down in front of me. We'd been talking and I'd been sharing for the past little bit.

"Yeah, I did," I said. "Pissed me off too, I mean them doing it in our bed. But, she won't be making that mistake again. Of that I am quite certain."

"And you let the kid live, and her too if it comes to that," he said.

"Yeah, well the possibility of going back inside is something of a deterrent if you get my drift," I said.

"Yeah, I can relate," he said.

"You say you're going to let her have her little side game?" said Danny.

"Yes, for now. He's no threat to me. I saw him, talked to him briefly. He's a wimpy little kid with nothing but his youth going for him, oh, and to hear her tell it his cock. Seems it's a bit above average in size. No matter, I'd rather she be fucking him than somebody of substance. So anyway, she'll occasionally be fucking the little shit, and yeah, I'm okay with it at least for now," I said.

"I can relate. My woman and I have the same kind of set up more or less as you know. She occasionally lets a john do her, but it's never anything more than wham bam, and then she comes home to me. Those nights I get my sloppies, but they don't bother me; hell, they kinda turn me on," he said.

As we spoke a man entered and looked over the scene before noticing me, as I was about to find out. He was hobbling some, used a cane for support. Looked to be sixty, but his demeanor was younger; I knew for a fact that he was only forty years old.

"Hello, fuckwad, convict," said John Kursk. I turned and frowned.

"Kursk," I said, unnecessarily. "What do you want?" Danny moved off down the bar.

"Nothing from you. You've already done enough, thank you very much," he said, he said it sarcastically.

"You are more than welcome, adulterer," I said. "Hear you've got a new squeeze."

"Oh, I've got more than one," he said. "Just can't seem to keep the girls away, You know, some of us got it sand some of us don't."

I smiled a very sarcastic smile. "You seem to have aged some since our last little meet up," I said. "I mean quite apart from that." I was pointing to his cane.

"Yeah, well it hasn't seemed to hurt my appeal to the ladies, like I said," he said.

I snickered. I almost felt sorry for the loser. He was clearly not what he once was. That in spite of his bravado.

"Don't believe me? Ask your wife. We don't do it as often as we once did. Too many chickees out there to share my blessings with. But, occasionally, well you know, she's gotta have it every so often just to remind her of what a quality woman she is. You on the other hand, mister pencil dick, aren't quite up to getting the job done, are you?" he said. 

I could feel my face and my mood darken simultaneously. I was certain for a flat fact that the asshole was telling the truth. She hadn't stopped doing it with him. She'd slowed down, but she was still doing him, probably at work. She and I would be talking, but, at a time of my choosing.

He strode off snickering to himself. He took a table along the far wall. He seemed to be waiting for someone. It was my early night: I was already off, so I wouldn't need to be sticking around watching him. I left.

I put Brad Kursk and his accusations on the back burner. I had bigger fish to fry for the moment, and life at home was good enough for me to not get too overly messed up in the head over yet another disappointment by my woman. The fact was that I wasn't even really mad, not really. Frustrated maybe. I began to realize that I had a first water slut for a wife and nothing was going to change that little reality. I'd either learn to live with it, or burn a bridge and get the hell outta there. I'd figure out what it was that I was going to do later when it suited me.

******

It was a month later. Marissa didn't call me; she just showed up at the Blue collar. She showed up with a very large man.

"Jesus, HQ-ree-eyest!" I said. "Sean, you're out!" I didn't quite squeal.

"Yes, and that's something else I owe you for," he said. Your idea to have my ladies come and talk for me did the trick. Them, and good behavior for seventeen years made the case. They let me go, no parole either. Like I said, I owe you."

"Yeah, well, you can buy me a drink," I said. 

"You got it," he said. 

I signaled Maisy. She brought her pad. "Bring a couple of pitchers, Maisy. This is an occasion.

"Yes, it is, mister Reardon, Yes it is," said Marissa. "Veronica wanted to be here, but she has major exams tomorrow and couldn't make it. She will though. This whole family owes you, not just Sean."

"Yeah, well, someday maybe Sean will tell you what he did for me when we were inside. Trust me, I owe him just as much and more," I said. "But, I sure am glad to see you. Man, am I!"

"Yeah, good to see you too," said Sean. "Got out just today. Spent the day with my missus," he gestured toward, Marissa, "and then, well, now we're here."

"Man oh man. Talk about pleasant surprises. So, got any immediate plans? I mean what do you plan on doing now you're out?" I said.

"Well, get a job, and get used to better food, well, you know; you been through it," he said.

"Yeah, I have. We'll talk, but not tonight. Tonight we drink a little beer, eat a few dogs or burgers, and shoot pool. 

"But, hang loose for a minute, I gotta go talk to the boss for a second. He's in the back doing boss stuff," I said. I rose and didn't quite run for the office in the back.

"Danny, my bud's out of the slam and he's here," I said. "You still want a bouncer and sometime tender?"

"Really, the guy you told me about? That Sean guy?" he said.

"Yes," I said. I know I sounded excited, and I was.

"You sayin' he might want to work here?" he said.

"Not sure, but he is looking for a job. And, he can definitely do the job—well—the bouncer part. He can learn the rest," I said.

"He on parole?" said Danny. I knew what he meant. If he was on parole he likely wouldn't be allowed to work in a bar during business hours. 

"No, he's clear," I said. "He's here with his wife too if you want to meet the family."

"Okay, give me a minute, and I'll be out," I said.

I headed back, and resumed my confab with the Rileys.

Danny showed no more than a minute after me.

"So this is the man," said Danny, coming up to us.

"He is indeed," I said. "Sean Riley, Marissa Riley this is Danny Williams the owner of this fine establishment."

"Glad to meet you mister Williams," said Sean. Marissa nodded her agreement.

"Likewise," said Danny. "Arthur's told me a lot about you. Said you might be looking for a job. We need a bouncer and a sometime barkeep. Sound like something you might be into?" 

Sean's eyes opened a little wider expressing his surprise. "Well, actually, it would," said Sean.

"Well good," said Danny. "You can start tomorrow. Turns out I'm a little shorthanded. I was going to ask Arthur here to do a double, but if you're willing we can hit the ground running."

"Mister Williams, you definitely have a deal, and I can't thank you enough. Not out of the joint for a whole day and already got a job. Oh yeah, the Lord is looking after me for sure," said Sean.

There were handshakes all around. Danny took the new employee into the back to show him the stuff he'd need to know and to get the employment app filled out. That left me with Marissa. Maisy was taking care of the few customers other than ourselves for the moment; I'd be owing her for covering for me, and that was cool.

"So, just something else, Sean owes you for," said Marissa.

"Marissa, Sean owes me nothing. He and I, well, we're friends. We met, it's true, under shity circumstances, but we are friends. The day will come, sure as shootin', that I'll need his help and he'll be there. And, maybe down the line I'll be able to back his play again too. It's all cool, but it's not a matter of owing anybody anything. It's just friendship. Okay?" I said. She nodded and smiled broadly. 

"Maybe Sean was right," she said.

"About?" I said.

"He said that the day you were sent up was actually a good thing: the Lord's work is actually what he said. It brought you two together," she said.

"Yeah maybe," I said.

******

The city park was only four blocks from the bar. The day was sunny, and the barbecue was hot. Sean and Marissa and their daughter Veronica were there to meet Rhena and Danny's wife Pamela.

The food was good the beer was good and the conversation and all was also good.

Danny and Sean were inordinately proud of their women as was I was of my Rhena—personality quirks notwithstanding. Danny and Pam and Rhena and I had shared a few dinners hitherto, but this was our first outing per se. Sean and Marissa and their baby would now be members of our little group.

I was tending the barbecue pit for the moment when Pamela Williams came up to me.

"Can I borrow you for a minute, Arthur?" she said. Rhena was in conversation at that moment with Veronica and Marissa. Danny and Sean were talking animatedly about a fishing trip they were putting together.

I motioned Sean and Danny to take over for a moment. Pamela and I walked over to a tree offering shade from the early afternoon sun.

I looked the woman askance. "Danny tells me that your Rhena has a sometime boy toy," said Pamela. I sighed.

"Yeah, that's so,. But we have an understanding," I said. "I guess it's something like the one you and Danny have."

"Hmm, yes, maybe," she said. "I don't know Rhena that well, so I'm no expert, but if you want a little advice. Don't worry about her. She's yours. That said, for a few more years she is going to be looking for the occasional bit of strange. It's who she is. I've been at this racket too long not to know the signs. Just go with the flow, Arthur. You'll be the one coming out winner in the end. Anyway, that's my unsolicited two cents." 

"Pamela, thank you. It is good to hear your thoughts on the matter. I will most definitely keep them in mind. Again, thank you," I said.

The get acquainted part of the barbecue went off well. We'd all be sharing yards and parks again, about that there was no doubt. And, Pamela's thoughts would indeed be fodder for my thinking for darn sure.

******

"Okay, baby, at the wheelhouse," said Sean Riley. He was smiling broadly as he hung up.

"So you and Veronica are finally getting together for a night out," said Marissa Riley. "The wheelhouse is near the college, right?"




Convicted



"Yes, it is. Makes it easier for her. Anyway, I can't remember being any happier than I am right now with the possible exception of the day you and I got back together after so long," he said. She came to him and kissed him heavily on the lips and every other place on his face. He was laughing the laugh of the supremely happy.

******

He saw her car parked toward the back of the crowded lot. Near it was a large blue van. It was rocking. He smiled: college students doing the dirty, he thought. He started heading for the entrance of the bistro. A scream, muffled, but a scream stopped him cold in his tracks. 

"My dad will kill you scum bags!" said the female voice. The female voice he recognized very well. He headed for the van. He tested the sliding door and yanked it; it was unlocked. The three men and one girl froze in time. The one fucking her was naked from the waist down; he was raping her. The other two were just finishing getting dressed. The naked one snarled at the intruder.

"What the fuck do you want asshole," said the offending male.

Sean didn't say anything. He yanked the man out of the van and sent him sprawling onto the asphalt. The other two men jumped to the assistance of their compadre. The three scrambling, pushed Sean back some little distance, punching him and kicking him, but could not put him down. An elbow to the face of the half-naked one in his grasp dropped him. A back hand to the next nearest offender spun him around and left him bleeding and stunned on the ground. Numero three-o flipped open a switch blade and started to circle the big man.

The bladist lunged and thrust his blade home slashing Sean's arm and piercing him high on the chest.

Sean grimaced, but came at the man pounding him repeatedly in the face on his arms and body. Suddenly there was a swarm of black and whites flanking the group. Sean sank to the ground, the five inch blade buried deep and protruding from his chest.

He woke up staring at the white—hospital white—ceiling. 

Sitting across from him was a man in a cheap suit. "Awake finally, I see," said the man.

"Yes. You the police?" said Sean. His voice was weak, and his breaths were somewhat short, but he was coherent.

"Yes. Sergeant Doyle, local PD. You Sean Riley, lately of state prison?" said the man.

"Yes. Am I in trouble?" said Sean.

"Not in this case. I'm here to ask you a few questions. Gotta do the paperwork, but it's clear from your daughter's statement that you saved her and put down her rapists. All three of them are here—in the prison ward. The bunch of them are suspected in a series of rapes of local coeds. You actually helped us out there, I guess," he said.

"Glad to be of service," said Sean. "My daughter, how is she?"

"She's okay. Well as okay as a girl who'd been raped three times can be. She's a tough kid. I think she'll be good," said Sergeant Doyle. The room was suddenly alive with nurses. One of them shooed out the policeman, another one pushed a button alerting still more caregivers.

"My daughter, what room is she in?" said Sean. 

"She's home, mister Riley. Your wife came to get her. She was here over night, but she went home about two hours ago. Your wife will be returning, so she said to me," said Nurse Joan—so her ID badge announced.

A serious looking man clearly in charge came in and took charge of the tableau. "Hello, Sean. I'm doctor Cooter. In case you care, you've lost some blood, and we did have to patch up a severed artery, nasty business that one; but, you're going to be fine. Gonna keep you a couple of days."

"Can't pay. You better let me go home; my wife can tend to me," said Sean.

"Not necessary, your boss is picking up the tab. There'll be no bill, not to you at any rate," said Dr. Cooter.

*****

"Can I go in to see him now?" I said to nurse Joan.

"Yes, but I would caution you to not stay too long. He's a strong man, but he had some serious internal bleeding. He needs to rest."

I saw her arrive just as we headed inside. "Hi Marissa. I've just been cleared to visit. You wanna go in first or..." I said.

"No, no, let's go in together," she said. I glanced over at nurse Joan; she nodded her okay for the two of us to go in together.

The visit was good. He seemed kinda out of it, but he was more or less coherent. Wanted to know about Veronica. The details caused him to relax some. The rapists were going to not love it at state prison. Sean's friends there were a guarantee of that little reality. But, that was thinking to be saved for another day.

******

Two years later: 

I had a decision to make. Inside, and ever since getting out, I'd had but two goals" to live well and to have a woman who would commit herself to me and to us, as I was determined to commit to her and to us.

I felt I could claim that I was doing my best to live well. And, I had committed myself to Rhena and to us as a couple. But, Rhena could not say the same. Oh, she was being discreet if not actually hiding it from me, but she was still doing her thing on the side: fucking other men. Who and how many I didn't know; but, I did know about Kursk and William. I kinda knew when too. The timeline was always two to three hours elapsed, and she always showered when she got home. Sloppy seconds had not been an issue. But then it was, and that was the catalyst for the ultimatum I was about to lay on her.

She'd gotten in late—a rarity—and had slid into bed beside me. No shower this night, she was obviously fagged out and only wanting to sleep. I could smell it on her, the stink of sex. I'd rolled over and slept too. 

It was a Sunday morning. I was horny. Like I said, she stank. She wanted to shower first, but I was not waiting for that. I took her knowing I was getting sloppies. While I was doing her, it didn't bother me, but for some damn reason afterwards, well, it did bother me. No logic, just nature or whatever.

We showered together, and headed out to breakfast.

"You took me knowing...?" she didn't finish her sentence.

"Yes, I was super horny," I said. "But Rhena...?"

"I'm going to ask you to dump the lovers. Summarily and now," I said. "I thought I could deal with it, and to your credit you haven't actually rubbed my nose in it in all this these three years, well, until last night. I mean you coming to bed with his stink still on you," I spread my hands in a you-can't-be-serious gesture.

She looked down. "I'm sorry about last night. I didn't realize that I smelled that bad. But, thinking about it now, I'm sure I did.

"But, you want me to—cut him off? No way we can talk about this?" she said. "Like you said, until last night, I've been studiously avoiding letting it become an issue, I mean doing anything that was actually all that noticeable."

"No, and I'll give you that. But, I have known about it, and it has rankled some. I just—well—from now on I just want to be like other normal couples. No more swinging wife. Just you and me babe. Please. Okay?" I said. "I mean it's been three years now more or less."

She took on a pensive look. "Babe, I need it. I need the occasional big cock. And, no, that's not a slam at you. It's just that I've gotten used to it. Now, it's gotten to the point where I need it, almost can't do without it. Please try and understand, honey. Please."

"I have tried to understand, and if it were just this William kid, maybe I could deal with it; but Kursk? Can't do it," I said. Her face lost all of its color. She swallowed.

"How long have you known?" she said.

"A while. We ran into each other at the bar. He laid it on me that he was still doing you even if he was doing other women too," I said. "He looked kinda sickly and old to me. For the record what in the world is the attraction? What makes him so damn indispensable?"

"His cock, and his almost unbelievable stamina. He really is one of a kind, Arthur. Really," she said. "Not much of a man in other respects, but so long as I don't have to wake up beside him in the morning; well, he fills that one need like few other living males.

"Sorry About lying to you, Arthur, but I was afraid that if I outted myself about him that you might do something really bad. I just couldn't chance it." I nodded. I guess I understood where she was coming from, but that said, she shouldn't have been doing him regardless.

"Can't get you to give them up then?" I said. She looked down.

"Okay, I guess I know where I stand then. I'll be leaving tonight. 

"I love you, Rhena. I love you way more than you love me. But, I can't do the sharing thing anymore. I just can't," I said.

I stood and threw a twenty down on the table. "Arthur..." But, I was gone.

I set the wheels in motion for the divorce. Got it cheap, $500. Rhena didn't contest it. She did say that I was overreacting, but accepted things, realizing as she said that she couldn't help herself or give up her playthings. 

I did catch a bit of good luck. After court costs and the lawyer, a Mr. Ernest Southerland esquire, I was only down a total of $685. Well, I guess one could make the case that there's an upside to everything.

At any rate, all said and done, I was sad, she was sad; everybody was sad. Well, I'd learn later that William the kid, and no I never called him Billy the Kid, was upset. He was upset because my soon to be ex-wife wasn't as enthusiastic as before. Seems the divorce kinda had her on a downer though only God and Dear Abby could've said why.

What was surprising was, that with me officially out of the picture, Kursk decided to make a run at Rhena. Read, he wanted fuck her more often. Well, she was a great fuck, really kinda unequalled. This latter fact, Kursk making a serious move on my ex, would have really negative consequences and that sooner rather than later. 

******

"So your hubby decided to be greedy," said Brad Kursk.

"You don't need to be snide, Brad. He's out of the picture, so let's just forget him, okay?" she said.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," he said. "Whatever. Anyway, I have someone I want you to meet."

"Yes? Who?" she said.

"Name's Johnson, Calvin Johnson." He caught her look. He laughed. 

"He's just a friend. You'll like him," said Brad. "Anyway, dress nice. He's kind of a V.I.P, got some bread. We'll be having dinner with him tonight if that's all right," said Brad. She nodded her okay. She wondered who the guy was and what he was being introduced to her for.

"Okay, if that's what you want," she said. He nodded.

******

The Whiskey Sour was busy. It was Friday night and it was also local pay day. 

Sean and Marissa were just leaving and saw them come in. His mood darkened perceptibly. He faded into the back toward the restrooms drawing his wife with him. Marissa had finally seen what he was looking at and followed his lead. 

They were able to slip out without being seen. "Wasn't that Arthur's wife?" said Marissa.

"Yes, but they're getting a divorce like I told you. 

"Marissa, the guy caused the death of our daughter and the ruin of our family. I can't be around him. I'm afraid of what I might do," said Sean.

"Sean. I understand," said Marissa. "But, if he was any part responsible for coming between Arthur and Rhena..."

"Yeah, we gotta talk to Arthur," said Sean.

******

"You say it's the same guy that messed you and you wife up, your family?" I said.

"Yes," said Sean. "And, he was with your wife and another guy."

"What the fuck." I said. "My wife, was she all lovey-dovey with him, them?"

"No, if she was lovey-dovey with anybody it was the other guy. A little older, walked with a limp, needed a cane actually," said Sean. Kinda odd a looker like your wife messin' within the likes of those two."

My demeanor darkened I'm sure. "The other guy? Gray-brown mop, kinda leaned his head to the right when he talked?" I said. 

"Yeah, I guess, not sure about his head leaning, but he did have gray-brown hair. You know him?" said Sean.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I do, and it ain't good." I said. He gave me a questioning look.

"Unless, I miss my guess, he's the guy I beat up that got me sent to the joint?" I said.

"You're shittin' me," said Sean. "'Cuz, like I said before, the other one is the guy that I beat up that got me sent to the joint," he said.

"Fuckin'-A?" I said. "Sounds like you and me got ourselves a little job to take care of."

"Do yuh think!" he said.

******

RHENA:

Well, he's gone. My man is gone. There was nothing for it. I couldn't play around behind his back. One, my Arthur is too volatile; he could hurt someone real bad if he found out the wrong way. Brad is first water testimony to that little reality. Two, I couldn't do it to him. My Arthur deserves better than me: someone who will treat him the way he wants to be treated. 

I liked watching the traffic as it rolled up and down the street delivering people on their way to work or wheresoever. 

Brad would be over pretty soon before lunch he'd said. We'd do it. He'd thrill me, and then he'd be gone. Something was outta joint, out of kilter with that. A couple of hours twice a week of dazzling sex and then the daily grind. Seemed like there should be more to life than that. 

I felt like laughing—at myself! I gave up the whole rest of the week in order to have those few hours with William the kid and Kursk the gimp. Well, I had to take some of the blame for Kursk being gimpy. Yeah he was fucking me when Arthur caught us, but I was the one that was willingly spreading my legs so that he could. Oh yeah, it was definitely a shared responsibility that one. 

And now there was going to be another player in the mix, this Calvin guy we'd be going to the bar with. 

Kursk had not let me know where we were going until we pulled into the lot. The Whiskey Sour was a place I'd been to only once before. It was an okay bar, nothing special. It had the virtue of being in a part of town neither Arthur nor I frequented.

Kursk had sworn that this Calvin guy was cool, but there was something about him that made me feel uncomfortable. He did have nice manners; I'll give him that. 

At any rate, Kursk had said that he might be bringing him over with him today. Well, Kursk had doubled teamed me with friends of his in the past, not often but a few times. It'd mostly been okay. Today would likely be just another such experience if he did indeed bring the Calvin guy with him.

"So that's the deal," said Calvin. "All you do is introduce us to selected dates that Brad will set up for you; Brad and I will take it the rest of the way." Kursk had indeed brought the man over, but not for sex; well, as her Arthur used always say, there was an upside to everything. No, he had brought him over for purely business reasons. 

I looked at the two of them with what any outside observer might have diagnosed as a quizzical expression. But, that analysis would have been errant. I was angry and filled hatred. Hatred that erupted suddenly in my belly and without the slightest bit of reserve. 

The fucking assholes were users and ruthless and arrogant to a degree that was only equaled by the dark angels: those that had gotten themselves thrown out of paradise for their presumption. 

I would be their nemesis, the archangel wielding the flaming sword of retribution, exacting a terrible price for the presumption of the two very mistaken males across the tables from me. I nodded as if in agreement with them as I sipped my wine.

There were smiles all around, touched glassware, and more smiles.

******

I was shocked to get the call. "Rhena!" I said. "What?" She shut me up. I listened attentively to what she was saying. Having talked to Sean and knowing the score as I did—to the extent that I did—hearing Rhena outline her plan over the phone was nevertheless stunning. We hung up. We'd be meeting in one hour.

******

We were at a table in the back. The Blue Collar had been closed for the past hour. It was 3:00AM. Danny was with us.

"Let me see if I get this straight," said Sean. "The assholes are wanting you to prostitute yourself to create a list of customers, with money, who the two of them, Johnson and Kursk, can exploit, read sell drugs to. That about it."

"Yes," said Rhena. She looked over at me. "Arthur, that man hurt us, and I hurt us, I know that too; but, I have it together now. If you'll give me another chance—well..."

"You and I will be talking, Rhena, but first things first. We've gotta bring these two down, and I mean hard," I said. She nodded.

"I think I might be able to help with that one," said Danny who had been listening attentively to the whole thing. My Pamela has a few connections. I'll have her drop a dime on those two. Should be a piece of cake. But, Rhena, you will have to testify; I'm no lawyer, but I'm figurin' that's gonna be the final nail in their respective coffins," said Danny.

"Not a problem," said Rhena, looking around the table at the three men.

******

Rhena and I did talk. She and I talked and we, the two of us, talked to Giles Hampton. Giles Hampton was the assistant district attorney. 

"Mister, Hampton, My husband and I are, or rather have been, on the outs. We've been on the outs because of my need, as I thought, to have men other than my husband; and no, I am not a prostitute. All of that said, I will have no serious problem with setting those two assholes up. So yes, I can sleep with their selected victims and nail their collective asses to the wall without the slightest upset or ill conscience. 

"They, together, decided to put me in this situation for that there can never be any forgiveness. So, let's bring 'em down," said Rhena.

"I looked over at my wife and saw her in a different light, a new light. Yes, my wife was a "for free" whore. But, she was also a woman of character. Talk about confused issues. How was I supposed to deal with that!

"And, you, mister Reardon, how are you with all of this?" said mister Hampton.

I looked over at Rhena; her face was impassive—determined. "I'm good, as good as can be expected. I just wanna bring 'em down too. The one caused me to lose several years of my life; I wanna return the favor," I said. "And, for the record so does my bud Sean." He nodded.

"Yes, we'll be talking to mister Riley later today. Since he was an eyewitness to the meeting his input will be useful as well," said Hampton.

"Has this Kursk fellow started the ball rolling yet, Missus Reardon?" 

"No, but he is supposed to call me later today. I have a feeling that he might have something set up. I will let you know when I do," she said.

"Good, good," said Hampton. "I'll be waiting on your call."

******

Over the next four weeks, Rhena had four dates. All wealthy businessmen, all more than happy to find a discreet supplier of coke, not to be confused with Coca Cola, and that at bargain prices. The company of Johnson and Kursk was into volume sales not a boutique operation.

All of the sales to the targets were monitored, logged, and controlled by the D.A.'s office. We waited for the axe to fall. Why didn't the D.A. nail the bastards at the first opportunity instead of waiting? Simple, they were hoping to net some bigger fish along with Johnson and Kursk.

"I wanted to be back home staying with Rhena while the investigation played out because I felt that she could be in serious danger. But, Hampton thought that that might tip off the bad guys, so I held off. It was the night after the fourth show that Rhena got the call. Then I got the call Then Sean got the call: us two from Rhena.

"You wanted to be here," said Hampton, as Sean and I, who had come together, pulled into the darkened parking lot alongside the waiting black SUV.

"That we did," said Sean, "that we did." I nodded, my enthusiastic agreement.

Two detectives brought the handcuffed men out of the bar and into the night. A.D.A Hampton approached them and read them their rights. I was smiling, but Sean was grim; well, his baby had died because of Johnson; his motivation was way different than was mine.




Convicted



Sean stepped away from me—we'd been hanging back watching the show unfold—and approached the two perps as they were being put into the back of a black and white.

"You're going to love it at state, Calvin. I have friends up there that will be making your acquaintance. Oh yeah, they're going to love you, literally love you," said Sean. 

"Riley! What the fuck!" said a surprised Calvin Johnson. "You...?" Then the door slammed on the two of them and they were gone.

"We got their supplier too, a truly big fish. He's being escorted downtown even as we speak. For what it's worth I appreciate the help of all of you, especially Rhena's," said Hampton. She didn't have to do what she did. "But—she didn't accompany you two down here?"

All of a sudden I was concerned. I pulled my cell and made the call. She answered on the fifth ring.

******

I was seated across from her. Sean had just arrived and joined us.

"I know he turned out to be a pig, but for a while, a long while, we had something going," she said. "I couldn't bring myself to watch as he was taken away." I nodded.

"Rhena, somewhere along the line our lives, yours and mine, got screwed up. I don't know how. You belong with me, not with Kursk or those other guys. Certainly not with guys like that William kid you were doing it with. Or, are you still doing it with him?

"No, no. He's moved on and so have I. I don't have anybody special right now," she said. The look she gave me had question written all over it, but what question?

"Rhena?" I said. Sean interrupted us.

"You guys look like you need a little time alone. I'm headin' on home. Marissa and I have a lot to talk about too," he said.

"Oh—oh, Sean, Sorry. Didn't mean to ignore you," I said. Rhena covered her mouth as though she'd just realized her own faux pas.

"No problem. This is a transition day is the way some people might think it, for all of us. You guys behave. I'll be seein' tomorrow or the next day," he said. And then he was gone.

"Good man," I said to Rhena. "An honorable man." 

"For sure," said Rhena. She changed the subject.

"Arthur, take me out to dinner. I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm famished," she said. I smirked.

"Sounds like a date, Rhena. You asking this boy for a date?" I said. Her turn to smirk.

"I guess so, kinda," she said.

******

The food was good and it had been a good day. What goes around does indeed come around, at least it did for me and for Sean.

Rhena and I sat across from each other eyeing each other while sipping our wine.

"So, here we are," I said.

"Indeed," she said. "Arthur, you remember the story of King Arthur, right. I mean the legend and all of that?"

"Right, but I'm no king, Rhena. I'm just an average Joe trying to get by and trying to figure out why the love of his life couldn't see her way clear to make me the love of her life," I said. She ignored my side issue and stuck on topic.

"Arthur, that old king was called the 'once and future king'. Well, I was wondering if you might be my once and future husband," she said. I stared at her. I wanted her in the worst way. Yes I did. But share her? No.

"Can't share you, Rhena. Just can't. So..." I started.

"No, I get it. I finally get it. But, that said, I can change and I have," she said. "I aim to be your one man woman now if you'll let me," she said.

"Change? You've changed?" I said, really speaking mostly to myself. "And how would I know if you are on the nup and up."

"I don't know. But, I am. You're not hooked up with anyone are you?" she said. I stared at her some more.

"No, not at the moment," I said.

"We could try living together. I think in time you'd be able to see that you could trust me again," she said. Well, there it was. The prime issue: trust. I nodded.

"Maybe we could try it that way and see," I said.

And we did, and it's been more than a year since that night and the holidays are fast approaching and I have a present for her. She'll be getting it on Thanksgiving Day. A day we'll be spending at the Riley's.

We'll be getting remarried on Christmas Day. All of our friends are going to be there including my old cellmate Demetrius who'd gotten out just before TG Day. As an added attraction Associate D.A. Hampton will be in attendance with his wife as well.

Speaking of the D.A. the news came down that after a lengthy trial Kursk and Johnson got twenty years each for a bevy of crimes both state and federal. Their buddy the supplier got twenty to life. Turns out he was also convicted of the second degree murder of a rival. Mister Hampton esquire loves us. Helluva note.