Anger, Hate, and Serendipity

"Now don't get pissed, but you don't have any STDs do you?" I sheepishly asked.

"I don't – do you?" she replied, also sheepishly.

"Listen, let's both meet Monday at a clinic and get a test – I'll pay for it."

"Good idea," she responded. "If you pay for it then if we don't have any STDs I'll give you a free bareback fuck, how's that!"

I smiled so widely it hurt.

I was pleased when Desiree showed up at the clinic on Monday – I didn't know for sure that she would. She gave me a quick peck on the lips when she arrived, and after we were tested. The HIV and HPV test results came back immediately – we were free. The other results would take five or six days. She gave me an email address I could contact her at with the results.

Fortunately we were both free of any STDs. Since I hadn't had a blood workup done in years I also had paid for that for both of us. "You've got to be about the two healthiest people we've ever tested," the head of the clinic told me before emailing me the results.

I emailed the results to Desiree. She immediately emailed back that she was free Thursday night and asked what time she should come by my apartment.

Desiree and I fucked bareback all Thursday night and Friday morning; my all-time record, four orgasms in just ten hours, and countless ones for her.

As Desiree and I got dressed after breakfast Friday morning she kissed me goodbye. "If we had met under different circumstances, we might have a real relationship," she smiled.

"I do believe that you're right. However, two nights with you was worth about ten years of pleasure with anyone else. Thank you a thousand times," I wistfully replied.

She really liked that. She pulled a nude photo of her from her purse and handed it to me. "To remember me by! Sorry, though, but if you need me again you'll have to go through the agency, I've got an exclusive with them, and sex is my business."

"I understand," I said, giving her one last kiss before we both went out the door.

While the sex with Desiree was phenomenal, and trailed that with Janet by only the slimmest of margins, my two happy nights with her generated an unexpected problem. I started thinking back about Janet. I thought about how great my sex life was then, and about how I had been fucked over as badly as anyone I had ever heard of. I again filled with anger and hate.

When my friends told me that I was acting like an asshole, I knew what the problem was. My sister Kerri told me that I needed to go see a shrink.

Going to see the shrink helped. At least I was able to reach an equilibrium where I wasn't a jerk with my friends and associates. After I had seen the shrink three times the first month, and then about once a month for a year, she had an analysis.

"You have about as much anger and hate as any sane patient I have ever had, Alan. I'm afraid that the common therapeutic procedures won't let you release it. The anger and hate are not good for your health although so far you have not had any adverse effects, probably because you stay in great shape," Dr. Bennett told me, peering over the tops of her glasses.

"So there's no hope I'll ever rid myself of it?" I asked with disappointment evident in my voice.

"There will have to be some cataclysmic event to terminate it. It will be by serendipity, not counseling, that you'll rid yourself of what you feel about Janet. I hope it comes soon."

"Does this mean we're through?" I asked, truly puzzled.

"It would be a waste of your money to keep coming to see me every month. You're still my patient but what I recommend is that you see me every six to nine months, and call me if there is something urgent. I want to see you heal completely because you're unlikely to have a fully committed relationship unless you do; but there is nothing I can do with conventional therapy or drugs."

"Thanks for being honest, Dr. Bennett," I said, standing and extending my hand. "I'll see you in six-nine months unless I have a crisis, I chuckled.

"Good luck," she said, smiling while she shook my hand.

It was nine years since I left my home city when I had occasion to return. I was still a young man, at twenty nine, but I had progressed in my company to such an extent that I was being considered as a candidate to establish a new branch of the company – in my home city. The only good thing about it would be being able to see Kerri – I still had memories that were too painful, and while my anger and hatred had not dissipated I was controlling them.

My boss insisted that I at least look for locations for a branch in my home city even if I ultimately refused to be the one to establish a branch there. Since it would allow me to see Kerri on her home turf (her wedding six years earlier had been a "destination wedding," and she and/or her husband, Jeff, had come to visit me or meet at some vacation place about every six months), and since I didn't have to commit to move back, I agreed.

When I talked to Kerri she insisted on giving me an update on Janet, so that I wouldn't be surprised. When the real estate market tanked Janet had dumped the real estate dude exactly the same way she had dumped me. So exact that she was pregnant with her second daughter when she left him for a hedge fund manager. She was now Janet Jenkins, surprisingly, still married to her third, hedge fund manager, husband Kevin Jenkins, and was a stay-at-home-mom with six and eight year old daughters. The oldest daughter had been adopted by Kevin Jenkins and the second was his biological one.

I was actually glad Kerri told me that for two reasons. I wasn't the only sap taken in by Janet, and I hated the real estate dude for "taking" her from me.

I rented a car at the airport – it felt very strange since many physical enhancements had been made there in the last nine years – and set off to look at some properties. I had planned to meet Kerri and her husband, Jeff, at their house to stay over until I found something suitable. I had gone no more than twenty miles, still five miles away from the first property I was to look at, when I had a flat tire.

I called the rental company and it would take them an hour to get someone out to me, so I changed the tire myself. I forgot to pack up the lug wrench with the rest of the gear so I threw it on the floor in front of the front passenger's seat, and went on my way.

I was stopped at a stop light while kids were exiting a private school. I saw three cute little girls crossing the street in their uniforms about to enter a limo. The driver was holding a back door open for them when suddenly all hell broke loose. A black SUV pulled up, three guys jumped out, knocked the driver over the head, and grabbed the screaming girls, their backpacks flying.

The thugs were in the SUV with the three girls in the back seat before the light even turned green. I didn't hesitate. I ran the light, avoiding one car in the intersection, and rammed the SUV. My air bag deployed and so did the SUV's driver's, but he hadn't put his seat belt on, and was stunned, moaning in the front seat as the air bag deflated.

I grabbed the lug wrench, undid my seat belt, hopped out of the car, and ran toward the now-stationary SUV. A guy with a handgun got out on the passenger's side of the back seat but he was unstable and by the time he fired I was on him. I hit him over the head with the lug wrench, causing him to crash to the ground.

The third thug got out of the driver's side of the back seat and had a knife to the throat of one of the petrified little girls and told me to drop my weapon.

I calmly stared at him, and then spoke loudly and clearly.

"If you release the girl I'll let you leave. You are not moving from that spot with her, however. If you hurt her I will crush your testicles before I kill you. You have ten seconds to decide then I'm coming after you."

With that I lifted up my left hand and looked at my watch and started counting, "one, two..." When I got to six he let the crying girl go and started running. I threw the lug wrench at him and felt like Daniel Boone when I saw it hit him in the back of the head and knock him to the ground. I went over to him and put my knee on his back and called for the stunned people across the street at the school to call 911. Obviously, someone already had since the cops were there in two minutes flat.

When the cops got there two male teachers from the school had the driver of the SUV, who was still moaning, lying on his stomach and five or six parents of other kids or other teachers from the school were consoling the three terrified little girls.

The cops quickly arrested all three thugs. All were being loaded into ambulances as I was being treated for a gunshot wound in my left arm that I didn't know that I had until one of the teachers pointed the blood out to me. The thug with the gun was out cold and likely dying. The other two were injured and bleeding, but not with life-threatening injuries. The limo driver was also receiving treatment at the scene.

After the ambulances had just taken off and I was giving my statement to a police lieutenant while a paramedic was finishing up treatment for my flesh wound, I heard a woman crying hysterically as she ran to two of the little girls who had been kidnapped as they screamed "Mommy, mommy!"

I did a double take when I got a good look at her! Fucking Janet!

Janet saw me. After an initial shock she came running over to me yelling "You fucking bastard, Alan, I know that you had something to do with this. I know that you kidnapped my girls to get back at me you piece of shit."

Before I or the cops could react she was on me. She twice hit me on the head with her purse before I got out of the way and a cop grabbed her.

"This guy saved your kids' lives, lady," the cop yelled as he restrained her. She didn't listen, and kept swearing at me. In the distance I saw the cop finally calming her down and the little girls running toward her as I was getting into the lieutenant's car to finish giving my statement at the police station.

Having seen enough cop shows on TV, when I got to the station I knew enough to insist that my statement be videotaped. The main question the cops had was how I got the lug wrench so quickly. Since my rental car was already in their impound lot it was easy for them to verify my story. After my statement they "requested" that I stay a while longer, which I agreed to do as long as I could call my sister. Kerri was flabbergasted and agreed to pick me up.

I told the cops "My sister will be here in a half hour, so I'm leaving then."

"We need you to stay a while longer," the lieutenant said.

"I won't be unless you arrest me, and if you do you'll be named in my false arrest suit," I barked at him. He noticed the change in my demeanor from cooperative to hostile and didn't push it. "There is one more thing I need, however," I told him. "I want to swear out an arrest warrant for the crazy bitch who hit me with her purse."

"She was just a distraught mother," the lieutenant replied.

"She assaulted me and I'm pressing charges. Either you give me a form to fill out or I go to the press tomorrow morning and have them ask the Commissioner why you wouldn't take action against someone who assaulted me."

By the time that I filled out the form, Kerri was waiting. I got my suitcase from the cops – they obviously had searched through it – and left after getting a long hug from Kerri.

Of course the story of the foiled kidnapping at the private school was the lead-in story on the T V news that night, and the headline in the paper the next day. Fortunately the press wasn't able to locate me since Kerri and I had different last names. However, it seemed that some reporter or another talked to everyone else having anything to do with the situation.

The next day I went to see a lawyer about suing Janet for slander and assault, and to see if he could make sure that the cops arrested her for assault. He was very happy to help out his new, high-profile, client. I went about my business during the day. The rescue was all that everyone was talking about, but no one recognized me and I kept my mouth shut. Things changed that night.

One TV station had acted quickly and got a copy of the surveillance tapes from a business and a street camera, though apparently the school wouldn't give them a copy of theirs, which was the clearest one. They blew up a photo of me while I was being treated for my wound and said many, many, flattering things about my performance and bravery.

That day it was hard to conduct normal business since I was recognized and people were dying to talk about the incident. A reporter got wind of my location and soon I was swarmed by them, too. I gave short, terse, interviews, playing down my role.

Somehow Janet found my sister's number – I didn't think that she knew my sister's married name. She called her house looking for me to apologize for flying off the handle, and to thank me for saving her kids, and asked to meet. At least that's what Kerri said Janet's message on voice mail was. I never listened to it, told Kerri to delete it, and told Kerri that if Janet called and she answered to tell her to fuck off.

The following day, before I flew back to my office, I went to see my new attorney again. He had all of the papers for my lawsuit against Janet for slander and assault ready. I read them over, signed off on them, and gave my attorney a retainer. My lawyer also told me that he had talked to the prosecutor's office, reminded them about how high profile the case was, and asked about arresting and prosecuting Janet. He was told that they were considering it and would get back to him.

As I flew home I was very self-satisfied. I'm embarrassed to say that it was more about being able to sue Janet, and the fact that she now owed me big time emotionally, than even saving the three little girls. My anger and hate now had a healthy outlet.

When I got back to my office and told my boss about two prime locations I had located he was pleased. Of course the news about my escapades was big in my city too, and everyone around congratulated me. My first day back my boss, the owner of the company, and his wife took me to the nicest restaurant in town for lunch where I found out again that I was a minor celebrity. I was enjoying my fifteen minutes of fame.

When I returned to my office after lunch I got a call.

"Mr. Easton, this is Bradley Simmons," the distinguished voice on the other end of the phone said. Bradley Simmons is a billionaire entrepreneur, considered one of the twenty five wealthiest men in America.

"Yeah, and I'm sure that you're calling me from The White House with the Pope and Dali Lama at your side," I chuckled. "No, who is this really?"

"I'm sorry to call you out of the blue, Mr. Easton, but one of the little girls that you saved earlier in the week is my granddaughter, Elsie, and I was calling to thank you and give you some good news."

"If you're pulling a joke it's a cruel one," I said.

"I assure you that it's no joke, and after we've talked I'll give you a way to confirm it."

As he talked I became convinced that it really was Bradley Simmons. I asked him to call me "Alan," and he asked me to call him "Brad." He was genuinely grateful to me, at one point telling me that his eight year old granddaughter Elsie was the apple of his eye and that likely she would have been ransomed, but likely killed whether he paid or not since the kidnappers had a police record replete with violent crimes.

He concluded our phone conversation with some very good news. "Alan, I owe you big time and I pay my debts. If there is ever any occasion that you need my help, whether it be a job, a recommendation, a trip to Europe – you name it – just call me and it's yours. My secretary will email you my private cell phone number. I only ask that you not give it to anyone else."

"Wow, that's really kind of you, Brad, and I can assure you that I will guard it with my life," I replied.

"One more thing; don't worry about your rental car that you used to save my granddaughter's life. It's been taken care of."

I was sure that I was going to have to pay for the rental car that I totaled, or that my insurance rates would go up even if I only had to pay the deductible. I called up the number of the rental car company that Brad had given me and was shocked to find out that it was the president's office. When I gave her secretary my name I was put right through to her.

"Hello, Mr. Easton. This is Katherine Timms, president of XYZ. I want to personally tell you that we are so proud of what you did and for the first time that I can remember we are delighted that one of our cars was totaled. I want to assure you that not only will you not be charged for anything associated with the damage to the vehicle but that we have refunded your rental charge to your credit card."

I was flabbergasted, and after stuttering a few "thank yous" I had to satisfy my curiosity. "I don't suppose that Mr. Bradley Simmons had anything to do with this," I said.

Timms laughed. "Actually, Brad's holding company owns XYZ, and he was the one who brought your situation to my attention, although of course I had seen the video of your heroics on TV. However, even if you hadn't saved Brad's granddaughter I assure you that we would have handled it the same way."

"Why thank you," I replied.

"As I said, we're proud that you were able to use one of our vehicles to facilitate your heroics; plus, our marketing department has told everyone who will listen that it was one of our cars," she said, now laughing even harder. "We'll probably get one hundred times the cost of the car in free publicity."

I was having a very good week.

Kerri told me that Janet was calling her all the time and had sent her letters, which Kerri didn't open but just returned. Finally Kerri answered the phone, rather than leaving it go to message. Once she confirmed that the caller ID was accurate she screamed into the phone "Stop contacting me, you fucking bitch. Alan is never, ever, ever going to contact you except through his attorneys. If you call again I'll have his attorneys file a suit for harassment against your whore ass!"

Apparently Janet didn't try and contact her after that. She did make repeated requests of my attorney to meet with me. He told her that everything would be done in formal proceedings.

While I was enjoying putting the screws to Janet, it was getting expensive. I knew that I had to go for a deposition where I had filed suit and my attorney told me that Janet had the right to attend the deposition, although he could make arrangements to insure that I never had to talk to her.

As I was considering what date would be convenient to go for my deposition my phone rang. "It's Mr. Simmons," my secretary excitedly exclaimed.

"WOW ," I thought to myself, gathering my wits. "Hi, Brad, how are you doing?" I asked.

"Great, Alan, and you?"

"Well aside from my litigation with my ex-wife things are great. Even that is great since I'm putting the screws to her, but I don't like how much it's costing. I have to go to a deposition back there, and I'm trying to schedule a date," I blurted out.

"Really, huh," Brad said. I was suddenly embarrassed.

"Sorry, Brad, I didn't mean to unload on you, it's just that your call came exactly when I was looking over my schedule," I continued.

"Well we have a little serendipity here, then, Alan. I was calling to tell you that the Mayor wants to have a ceremony to award you 'City Hero of the Year.' You could schedule it around your deposition and get reimbursed for your travel," Brad enthusiastically said.

"I'm not big on publicity, Brad. I've declined dozens of interview requests including from 'Sixty Minutes;' but anyway, I can't believe that the City would pay my travel expenses."