John Locke - The Love You Crave

“What?”

Sam hears a click.

“Did you just lock my doors?”

“I did. You’re spam in a can.”

“I don’t understand the reference.”

“It sucks being old. Though you might never know.”

“Look,” Sam says. “Not saying I’d ever double cross you, but what if I said sure, I’ll help you, but change my mind later, when I get back in the bunker?”

“You may be able to survive in there for many months. But sooner or later the government will release you. When they do, I’ll catch you, and turn you over to Creed.”

“And if Creed’s dead?”

“Callie. Are you, in fact, refusing to get me the photos?”

“No, of course not.”

“Good. So answer the question I asked earlier.”

“Which one?”

“Was having sex with Kimberly everything you hoped it would be?”

“Yes. And then some.”

“Good. I love it when a plan comes together. How did it make you feel?”

“Great. You knew it would, and it did. It felt, and still feels great.”

“You’re not falling in love with her, are you?”

“No chance. Kimberly Creed is inferior to me in every possible way. And now I’ve made her my fuck pony.”

“Was it hard to bed her?”

Sam laughs. “Fucking her was child’s play! And I’ll continue to fuck her as long as it suits me, though she’s not much of a lay. If not for the connection to Creed, I wouldn’t travel across town to do her.”

“One last question, if I’m not being too nosey. While you were having sex with Kimberly Creed, who were you thinking about, Donovan? Or Kimberly?”

“Both.”

“Good for you, Sam.”

Doc Howard.

Doc Howard presses the rewind button for the third time. “Was having sex with Kimberly everything you hoped it would be?”

“Yes. And then some.”

He fast forwards to “Kimberly Creed is inferior to me in every possible way. And now I’ve made her my fuck pony.”

He fast forwards to “Fucking her was child’s play! And I’ll continue to fuck her as long as it suits me, though she’s not much of a lay. If not for the connection to Creed, I wouldn’t travel across town to do her.”

Doc Howard smiles, thinking of the many ways he can use it. The big question is who should he play it for first? Sam, Donovan, or Kimberly?

He tries to give an evil villain laugh, but starts coughing in the middle of it.

Getting old’s a bitch.

Maybe Taylor.

Kimberly likes having an alias. For one thing, it helps her separate her killing life from her personal life. She also likes Sam far more than she thought she would. He grows on you. Like a wart, she thinks, smiling.

What she doesn’t like is her current relationship with her father. Specifically, she doesn’t like the way she’s been treating him. He’s got a life, and she’s a grown woman. They live in separate states, and his job keeps him traveling from place to place on a moment’s notice. She’s only recently begun to understand that part, but she now understands why it’s hard to schedule visits in advance.

And her father has enemies.

And those enemies might decide to come after her, to get back at him. He has to worry he could be leading those sorts of people to his daughter every time he meets her someplace.

Of course, this is one of the main reasons she decided to work for Sam almost a year ago. When he talked about helping her get in shape and learn self-defense, she thought of her father. If she could protect herself, maybe he wouldn’t worry so much about her safety. Then, over months, as she and Sam became closer, she told him about her father, what he did for a living, and Sam said he could provide her with that type of teaching as well. She didn’t have to kill people if she didn’t want to. But wouldn’t it be nice to know how?

From there, it was just a hop, skip and a jump-as Sam would say-to wondering how it felt to kill someone. Not a spur-of-the-moment killing, like with her boyfriend, Taylor, but a premeditated one, like her father routinely performs.

What better way could there be to understand his psyche than to enter his world?

After the breakthrough with Sam today, her head’s in a good place. Her female plumbing seems to have been restored, and she’s on the threshold of what could be a budding romance with an older guy who happens to be her adoring boss. For all the protesting she’s done, she’s secretly excited about having Sam as her boyfriend.

With so many things going for her, she suddenly regrets the phone message she left for her father.

She calls him back, gets his voice mail again. Says, “I’m sorry about the message I left a few minutes ago. I didn’t mean to say those things. I’m booking a flight to Vegas as soon as I hang up. I’m coming today, because we need to talk. There’ve been some major changes in my life, and I want to discuss them with you. I can’t say you’ll be happy with them, but I’m in a happy place. You’ve always said if I’m happy, you’re happy. So we’ll see. Anyway, call my cell if there’s a problem. Otherwise, I’m on my way to Vegas to see if we can be friends again.”

Jeff and I sleep most of the way to Chicago. About an hour out, I give Bob Koltech a sack of cash and have him order a limo on his dime, so I won’t leave a paper trail.

“How much extra to spend the night here?” I ask.

“Just our rooms, food and transportation,” Bob says.

“How’s five grand sound?”

“Generous.”

I peel off fifty bills from one of the stacks in my case and add it to Bob’s bag.

“Don’t buy any liquor with that,” I say.

“What time you want to leave tomorrow?” he asks.

“I don’t know. We might even leave this afternoon, if my lady friend wants to come to Vegas.”

“Okay then. No liquor.”

When we land, Bennie the limo driver’s waiting for us with a stretch limo and a big smile. “You guys headed to UIC?” he says.

“We are,” I say.

“Good thing I’m your driver,” he says.

“Why’s that?”

“UIC has more than a hundred buildings on campus.”

“Over how many acres?”

“Two hundred forty.”

Bennie’s a proud father. Because his son is enrolled at UIC’s medical school, we get the full lecture on the ride over. The part I remember, UIC’s the nation’s largest medical school and has an annual budget of more than three hundred million dollars. Bennie claims thirty-five percent of the students speak English as a second language, which impresses him, for some reason.

“That’s amazing!” I say, noting the smirk on Jeff’s face.

Bennie says, “Which building you want?”

“Center for Magnetic Resonance Research.”

“Never heard of it.”

I punch the information into my cell phone. “1801 West Taylor Street.”

“Oh. You shoulda said MRI. So, you gonna enter the beast?”

“We’re just doing a short tour.”

“If you’ve got a pacemaker, or any metal inside you, they won’t let you near the beast. Can’t even enter the building! That’s the big boy I’m talkin’ about, the biggest MRI machine in the world.”

“Maybe we’ll get to see it,” I say.

Bennie looks up in the mirror to catch my eye. He nods his head to the side, indicating Jeff. “He don’t talk much, does he?”

“English is his third language.”

“No shit?”

“Hakuna uchafu,” Jeff says.

Bennie says, “What’s that?”

“Swahili,” Jeff says.

“No shit?”

Jeff smiles. “Exactly.”

Jeff and I enter the building. The small leather bag slung over my shoulder contains toiletries, a change of clothes, and a gun. The suitcase in my hand contains what’s left of the cash after paying Bob for the flight and his overnight expenses.