Heading For A New Life Page 5

  He lay down on top, resting on his hand, and the second pulled Laura to him, entering her in one long movement and immediately starting to move. Chris hammered her hard into the bed, and she staggered, desperately creaking. I wanted to prolong this moment, and he tried to think about anything, just not about how she squeezed around his cock, how sweetly she moans, responding to every movement, how ... Chris froze, arched in his back and breathing sharply through his teeth, for a short time there was a deafening silence. He fell beside him, breathing hard, and Laura reached out, brushing her nails along his torso.

  — I would like to have time to finish again, - she whispered a little resentfully.

  — Give me a couple of minutes, ”Chris said abruptly, looking up at the ceiling. Laura sat down, reached for a cigarette, flicked a lighter in the dark.

  — Do you want a drink? She asked, getting up. - There is whiskey and beer.

  — Come on beer. Breathing finally recovered, and Chris fumbled for the switch, lighting the night light. The room was small and extremely sparsely furnished - a chest of drawers, a bed, a built-in wardrobe. It feels like a teenage girl lives here, not a grown woman. By the way, about age ... - How old are you? He shouted into the twilight.

  — Where are your manners! - mockingly came in response, and soon Laura herself appeared on the doorstep, holding a slightly misted bottle in each hand. “I'm thirty, cowboy.

  Chris tilted his head to one side, frankly admiring her figure - small breasts, thin waist and legs that seemed simply endless. Satisfied with the effect, Laura walked to the bed with feline grace and held out one of the bottles, climbing up beside her and sitting on her knees.

  — And you? She asked, tracing the tattoo snaking on her shoulder.

  — Thirty three. He sat up and took a few long sips, almost half draining the bottle. Then he put her on the bedside table and reached for Laura, running his hand down her back. The watch, touching the dial, caused a shiver - for some reason the glass on it was icy. Laura sipped her beer and looked at Chris.

  — You are very beautiful, - he whispered, kissing her on the shoulder.

  — I know, ”she replied with a smile. - You are nice too.

  — Nice to hear this. - Chris leaned on the bed and buried his nose in her stomach, biting slightly, while his other hand covered her buttocks, pulling her towards him.

  — Several minutes passed that quickly? Laura gasped as he laid her on her back, hanging from above.

  —I said wait a bit, ”Chris grinned before plunging back into it.

  Laura had long been asleep, curled up in a ball on the torn-up bed, when Chris got up and gathered his clothes in the wrong light of the dawning morning. Going out into the living room, so as not to make noise with his belt, he quickly dressed and checked that the phone and wallet were in place. With a last glance at the bedroom, he quietly left, closing the door behind him, looked at the house number, and called a taxi a block higher.

  Notes:

  * Kew, Hazelwood are some of the most popular and expensive clubs in Seattle.

  This morning the house was quiet for a long time, even the children were in no hurry to get up, and only by ten in the morning did the adults begin to stir and crawl out into the kitchen. Denise fought the coffee maker, yawning desperately, while Mark languidly stirred the effervescent tablet in the glass. Next to them, Chris looked fresh and rested. Leaning on the table, he slowly sipped cold orange juice, mockingly examining the owners of the house who had been taking a walk in the evening.

  — You glow like a damn penny, - Mark said gloomily, glancing at Chris over the glass.

  — Maybe I'm just jealous? Chris grunted.

  — Nancy said you left yesterday too. - Denise looked with envy at the serene face without a trace of fatigue.

  — I decided to take your advice and relax. - Chris gently peeled off the table and went to the sink, turning on the water to wash the glass. Denise narrowed her eyes suspiciously, staring at the back, covered in a white T-shirt.

  — And how, relaxed? - Mark muttered, taking a sip from the glass with a fizzy.

  — Yes. Chris turned and put a clean glass on the table. - And now it's time for me to look at the apartment. As I understand it, you will have to go alone.

  — No, - Denise exclaimed, but immediately grabbed her forehead.

  — Your habit of controlling everything clearly failed yesterday, ”Chris grinned. - Don't worry, I'm not small, I can find a normal home.

  — Well, yes, - Denise grumbled, taking from her husband a portion of hissing panacea. - Choose some nonsense and then you will suffer all your life.

  — Look, I know how to rent a house, ”Chris said smoothly.

  — Of course, - continued to bend her friend, - you know how ... Have you ever lived in a rented apartment, huh? Do you know what questions to ask a landlord, what are the first things to pay attention to? Do you know how much a normal apartment should cost?

  — Have you never rented an apartment? - Mark cheered, it seems, even forgetting that he had a headache. Chris shrugged: he always had a home. First parent, then his own with Jennifer ... And between - the army, where you didn't have to think about housing - the state thought for him.

  — Once you have to learn. Chris smiled serenely as he watched Denise frown. In half an hour he was on his way to the agency.

  — You didn’t say that you were, ”the agent accusingly met. - This is problem? - Chris immediately crept up, looking at the man opposite pursing his lips and clicking the mouse, changing the pictures on the monitor.

  — Actually, yes, ”he finally answered. - Not all landlords agree to rent housing to criminals. - A quick glance at Chris: - Sorry.

  — Something decent and simple is enough for me, the main thing is to have a normal neighborhood, ”Chris winced.

  — You understand that it will cost more, ”the agent began, but Chris interrupted him.

  — How many?

  — Half a percent on top of the commission.

  Towards the end of the day, Chris rented a tenth-floor apartment overlooking Union Lake, with one bedroom, a kitchen-dining room, and a wide balcony. And although the Edgewater area was on the other side of Queen Anne, in which his whole life had passed, it was decent enough not to be ashamed to give the address to the taxi driver, and pleasantly accessible, if you can count the cheap rent of 1,500 a month. Chris drove back, imagining how Denise would grumble, saying that he still has no work, but expenses began, which, in principle, could be avoided and stayed with her. But he lived too long surrounded by other people not to desire loneliness as much as possible in a metropolis.

  — Far away, ”was all Denise said, putting the salad on the plates.

  — It's half an hour to drive from you to me. If you call for a barbecue, of course.

  “Don’t hope,” Mark grumbled. “You’re not enough beer.” - And slyly winked.

  Already at night, getting ready to sleep, Chris stopped in the middle of the basement, looking at the boxes, which he did not dare to open, the sofa and blue linens in a thin red cage, and thought that these few days would forever remain in his soul a warm, bright memory.

  — Are not you asleep yet? - Denise stood onthe upper steps, slowly peeking in.

  — No, get down. - Chris went to the boxes, one of which was a T-shirt, and bent down to pick it up.

  — Did someone help relieve tension yesterday? She snorted, eloquently glancing sideways at her back, which was cut by several thin red stripes. Chris jerked his shoulder and ducked into his shirt. - And what is her name?

  — Do you think this is important? He cocked his head to one side and looked expectantly at his friend.

  — Exactly, I didn’t come for that, ”Denise easily jumped to another topic. “Actually, I don’t know why I came,” she admitted. - I just thought that tomorrow you would move, but we never sat together as before, did not get drunk and did not look

  Sleepless in Seattle.

  — This is your favorite mo
vie! - the protester pointed a finger at her Chris.

  — In the short hours of the early morning, when the whole huge world is fast asleep ... - Denise sang, desperately out of tune. - Come on! You can't ignore Sinatra!

  — I can’t be silent when you’re fake! - Chris frowned pretensely and, stretching out his arms to Denise, swirled her in a dance, singing in a low baritone: - You lie awake and think about the girl, and you don't even think about counting sheep ...

  — I can always listen to you sing, - smiledDenise.

  — I'm not going anywhere else, ”Chris assured, reaching out and forcing his girlfriend to roll on her axis. - Friends like you are worth their weight in gold. I can't even tell you how happy I am that I have you.

  — Aha! Denise exclaimed triumphantly. - Now you will not get out! You can't refuse your precious and best friend to watch your favorite movie, can you? I'm going for pizza, and you rummage through the disks, he was definitely there!

  — And what will Mark say to this? - Chris asked, obediently walking towards the disks.

  — He's already asleep, ”Denise waved her hand and, humming to herself, ran upstairs. And Chris also put this cozy evening in a box with memories, promising to never forget.

  A month later, Chris flew into the apartment, tossed his keys on the table in annoyance, and collapsed onto the sofa, stretching out his legs. Finding a job turned out to be much more difficult than he thought, and after all, Chris was always a realist. He was refused wherever possible, at first - a couple of old friends, whom he still called. They enjoyed drinking at his expense and talked with regret about the crisis and layoffs in firms. Then there were several interviews in small firms, in which they also politely promised to call back, but they went into the fog, and after the vacancy of workers, but even there all the places were occupied by former prisoners or local craftsmen, and there was nothing to count on.

  Chris wearily rubbed the bridge of his nose and leaned his head back against the couch. There was an opportunity to start playing on the stock exchange - once, albeit for a short time, he did it. But if something goes wrong, there will not be even those savings that now allow you to stay afloat, afford a month of searching without earning money, and generally make up a small, but a safety cushion. And then there was the inspector, to whom he came, as soon as he moved, having entered a copy of the release documents, called twice already, asking whether the new ward had found a job at his site, and whether he, Captain Verhoeven, should not worry about spike in crime soon. From anger at myself and others I wanted to growl!

  Today was Friday, which means there are two days ahead, filled with nothing - it is useless to look for a decent job for the weekend, and desperation has not yet brought despair to a security guard in a supermarket. In general, self-esteem in this case played against him - Chris could not imagine himself as a service staff. I could not bring myself to step over pride, to forget that he was an officer, that he had several sorties behind him. That he was actually responsible for the lives of other people. That he was awarded the Medal of Honor! Even in prison, he did not sink to the very bottom, is it really necessary now?

  Remembering the prison, Chris suddenly got up and walked to the table by the door. He opened his wallet and thrust his finger into a narrow secret pocket, pulling out a small piece of paper with a telephone. Tony talked about how he might have a job, so why not give it a try? If this does not contradict the law, of course, because it was not part of the plans to return to jail. After dialing the number, Chris paced the room, stopping in front of the window. Down there, Seattle was noisy, plunging into the nightlife, and above the first stars lit up, invisible in the light of the city lights.

  Several long beeps, and a familiar voice sounded in the receiver:

  — West Point, are you? - judging by his voice, Tony was clearly tipsy. - Has it been out long ago? They agreed to meet on Sunday - Tony clearly had far-reaching plans. AND Chris, deciding affairs on some days settled, set off inthe nearest bar, where he met a pretty blonde Francis from Canada, who claimed that she spoke two languages perfectly, and later fully proved that at least

  fluent in French.

  The waterfront was crowded on Sunday, with tourists taking selfies, queues for Seattle's Big Wheel ** and crowds waiting for ferries or taking a ride on

  the bay. Chris slowly walked along the coast, enjoying the breeze, the salty scent of the sea and just the freedom that made him straighten his shoulders wider and smile at unfamiliar girls. Sinking down at the table of an open-air cafe, Chris ordered an orange juice and looked at his watch: he came ten minutes early. But Tony, contrary to expectations, showed up on time, flopped into a chair and took off his glasses, behind which he hid his red eyes.

  — Well, West Point, how do you like being free?

  — Better than jail, ”Chris chuckled as he watched Tony order lager and squint in the sun.

  — You know, I didn't think you'd call, ”he said with a sly grin. - You always seemed to me an arrogant asshole, what is there to hide.

  — That is, that is, - Chris grinned, looking at the bay, along which the white sails were scurrying. - Are you still an annoying weasel?

  — At my age, changing is harmful, '' Tony said thoughtfully, reaching out to the misted glass that the waiter placed in front of him. “Twenty-eight, you know, is not the age to give up your habits.

  — If they don't go to jail. Chris glanced sideways at Tony, who answered him with a serene honest look.

  — I don’t renounce anything, ”Tony shrugged philosophically, leaning back relaxed in his chair. - And I do not advise you.

  Chris didn't answer, silently eating his fresh. Most likely, nothing good will come of the meeting, but he was still glad to see Tony. Oddly enough, he was the only person in seven years with whom it seemed really easy. He could even be called a friend who would definitely cover his back in case of trouble. But relying on Tony to help with a decent job was foolish, Chris knew that now.

  — Have you got a job? - As if reading his mind, Tony asked and made a sign to the waiter to repeat.

  — Not. Chris grimaced. - You were right: employers are not very willing to favor inmates.

  — Unpleasant discovery, ”Tony chuckled. - Do you want to attach to yourself? We are just about to start issuing cards of the National Bank. - His eyes lit up, and he leaned forward: - Imagine: a goof opens an account, puts money, uses them for a while so that he doesn't suspect anything, and then a tidy sum appears on the account ...

  —Spare me the details! Chris shook his head. “I don’t want to become an accomplice in a case that I have nothing to do with.

  — I forgot which one you are correct with us, '' Tony responded without offense. - I can't offer anything better yet. But if something appears, I'll let you know first!

  And again empty days filled with silence. At first they were happy, but over time they became annoying. Chris visited Denise and Mark several times, but it was really sickening to see her questioning look. She was worried about him, afraid that he would not resist, buy into the easy money that Tony offered, or start drinking. With nothing else to do, Chris finally decided to take apart the boxes, some of which were still in the hallway. Two paintings - the originals of Sargent, happily escaped the auction, which sold all the property acquired in marriage with Jennifer, took their place in the living room and bedroom. In fairness, the paintings were donated by Chris's parents to

  wedding, and he was sincerely grateful to Denise for this theft. However, he could not bring himself to make out the rest of the things, delaying to the last.

  But one evening, when out of boredom he wanted to climb the wall, and pouring loneliness seemed not the best idea, he dragged the largest box to the sofa and resolutely opened it. There were photographs. Frames, carefully wrapped in paper, albums, and at the bottom was a form and a box with a medal, which Chris pulled out with mixed feelings. The day when he was awarded flashed before his eyes with a bright picture, bringing with it that excitement,
pride, happiness ... The faces of parents, colleagues, sincerely congratulating on the award, the corridors of the Capitol stood before his eyes ... Putting the box aside, Chris unrolled the paper, taking out the frames with photographs that captured almost all the happy moments of a past life: graduation from the academy, he is in uniform against the background of a flag, parents, several photographs of the period of training with Denise, friends, he with Violet

  — a Labrador who lived in their house since childhood ... There was only a wedding. Not that Chris wanted to put this photo on the bedside table, but he was once happy with Jennifer, and as much as he wanted to erase that time from his memory, it turned out poorly.

  A sharp phone call made me emerge from memories. Chris reached for the receiver, looking at the unfamiliar number, and tensed - he forgot how to enjoy surprises.

  — Well, West Point! - Tony's cheerful voice was heard in the receiver. - You have a bottle of Macallan, no less! I found a job for your officer's ass!

  — First, let's decide if it suits me, - Chris grinned, involuntarily becoming infected with the fun ringing in Tony's voice.

  — Not on the phone, - he suddenly became serious. - I'll meet tomorrow in the center, be at the parade.

  — Not understood.

  — Not in shape, of course, a soldier! Tony chuckled. - Suit, shirt, everything. As I say, the work is worthwhile. You’ll thank old man Anthony later on.

  Tony never admitted what job he had found, but for a long time he assured that Chris would definitely be delighted, because this is an ideal option, moreover, it is completely unrelated to crime. Therefore, when the next morning Chris saw him in a strict suit, he could hardly restrain a surprised laugh. Tony was clearly nervous, tugging at his jacket every now and then and looking at his watch.