Battle-Hardened, War Weary Ch. 04

The second picture of Kali was a close-up. The picture was taking on the same day as the first picture. Ryan concluded that the photographer must've been standing at least a foot away from where she was standing. She was staring at the camera and smiling at the person behind the camera. Knowing that Kali was staring at another man with such joy in her face, made him feel jealous.

The third photo was a picture of Kali while she was sitting in a booth seating, inside of a restaurant. In the photo, her coat, hat and mittens were gone. She was now wearing just a sweater. He thought that the color of the sweater highlighted her gorgeous skin tone. In the picture, she stared at the photographer. She smiled at him. Her eyes were a radiant shade of purple. The rays from the sun had managed to shine into the storefront window and shine on her. She appeared ethereal.

The fourth picture made his heart palpitate and a weird fluttering in his stomach occur. Kali was in the restaurant and she sat in the same seat. Instead of staring into the camera, she stared at another object that was off to the side. Her hands clutched at her bulging belly. She appeared to be in the midst of laughing, when the picture was taken. Ryan figured that she must've felt the baby move, when the photo was captured.

Staring at the photo had made Ryan fill up with extreme carnal desire. He wanted to be with Kali. He felt like he needed to be with her. He wanted to experience the ability of feeling his child move inside of her womb. He wanted Kali to stare at him and give him a smile like the one she gave to the private investigator. He wanted to hear her laughter. He wanted to listen to her say that she loved him. He desired to feel her soft hands on him, like on the night when she revealed herself to him. Ryan wanted to hear her moans and her pleas. He wanted to experience that type of pleasure again.

Ryan's mind had taken the "Triple X" route and his mind was flooded with naughty thoughts. Images flashed through his mind in a slideshow format. There were images of his thick cock plunging into her soaked cunt. There were images of her face during the throes of her pleasure. He could hear the sounds of his name being called from her lips.

"Fuck," he groaned while he was staring down at the hard-on that was encased inside of his Gucci slacks. "Fuck," he repeated.

Ryan checked the time off of his desk's clock. The time was 2:27 PM. 'I have plenty of time.'

He hopped off of his desk. He placed his special pile of pictures on the desk. He traveled to his private bathroom. Before the door could close, his cock was already free from its confines. His right hand clutched his dick while his left hand sprayed hand lotion onto the shaft. His right hand lathered his member with the lotion with slow, fluid strokes. The private bathroom was filled with a succession of groans while Ryan continued to stroke at his cock.

"Oh..." he grunted, while his cock throbbed with pleasure. In his mind, he replayed his last encounter with Kali.

His orgasm was swift and unexpected. His cock spurted four streams of spunk. The semen landed onto the toilet seat. As the high dissipated, he thought, 'I need to see her.'

After Ryan cleaned the toilet and himself, he walked back to his desk. By then, he came up with a plan. He believed that if things go according to his plans, he would be lying in Kali's bed with her body wrapped in his arms. He picked his office phone up and dialed Penny's extension. Her phone line rang a few times before answered her phone.

"What's up, Boss?" Penny greeted Ryan. He listened to the receptionist's voice. He thought that she sounded like she was chewing on food.

"Penny, you're not supposed to be eating while you're working at the front desk," he chastised the secretary. He didn't care if the woman was eating at her workstation. He just wanted to 'bust her balls' a little bit.

"Sorry Boss," she apologized, before taking another bite of food.

"Penny, did you take another bite?"

"No."

Ryan laughed. "I need you to come to my office now."

"All right, Boss."

Penny arrived to his office a few minutes later. "What's up?"

"Penny, I need for you to do me a favor," he asked as he withdrew his wallet from his back pocket. "I need for you to go down to Paragon Sports and buy me a sweat suit, a pair of sneakers and a pair of socks."

"What?" she said to him with her brow ridge wrinkled and a state of confusion written all over her face. "Why? And you want me to leave my desk, right now, to do this job for you?"

"Yes, I need a sweat suit, in particular one that has a hood. I want the suit to be black and an extra-extra-large. The sneakers need to be in a size 13 and they have to be black also," he reported to her while removing all of the money from his wallet. He counted the bills before slapping the money on his desk. "There's four-hundred dollars. I need that stuff before the end of the day."

Penny grabbed the money off of the table and counted. Her employer ended up giving her six-hundred dollars.

"Keep whatever change that comes from the purchase," notified Ryan.

Penny's eyes bulged from surprise. 'Fuck Paragon Sports, I am taking my ass down to Modell's!' she thought with glee.

"I'll be right back with your stuff! I am heading out now!" she shouted cheerfully, as she high-tailed it out of his office.

"Thank you, Penny!"

Once Penny was gone from his office, Ryan phoned Santos on his cell phone. He informed his chauffeur that he was going to use the public transportation for the night. He lied and told his driver that he was going to attend a function after work with a few clients of his. In response, Santos told his employee to be safe during his travels and to call him, if he needed aid. Ryan thanked his driver and wished him a 'good night' before ending the call. The next call that he had placed was to Suzette. With a groan of irritation, he dialed his fiancée's number.

Suzette Garrison was now his fiancée, and in June, she was going to be the Mrs. Orion Octavius Cyprus Whittler. Being married into the infamous Whittler family was one of Suzette's stipulations, from her act of blackmail. At the time, Ryan, felt desperate and felt scared of the possible repercussions. He agreed to marry his longtime girlfriend. On the day after the Tolleys' holiday party, Ryan escorted Suzette to the infamous Tiffany & Co. She wanted the perfect engagement ring, in order to brag to her friends and family about landing a rich and powerful fiancée. She also wanted Ryan to propose to her, in front of her family while they were spending Christmas evening with them.

Throughout the shopping errand, Ryan had shown his disinterest. He gave Suzette his American Express Centurion and then he sat in the boutique's waiting area. She shopped for the engagement ring and the wedding bands. Ryan sat in the quaint room and was catered by the store's employees. He also flirted with a few of the women customers who waited in the same area. He managed to handle a little bit of business, as well as, fulfill Suzette's second stipulation. By the time Suzette was finished shopping, she was twenty million dollars richer and there was less than $20,304,406.46 in his bank accounts.

Suzette's cell phone rang ten times before she finally answered the call. With each passing ring, Ryan silently prayed that she had taken the twenty million dollars and ran off. When he heard the sound of the call connecting, he let out a groan of disappointment.

"Hello, honey!" was Suzette's greeting. Ryan physically cringed. She was speaking in a high-pitched voice and he found the tone of voice to be annoying. "I've called you twelve times today! Where were you?"

Ryan didn't bother to greet his fiancée or to answer any of her questions. Instead he decided to cut to the purpose of his phone call. "I am not meeting up with you tonight. I have to work—

"What do you mean you won't be coming tonight?" screeched Suzette into the other line. "Ryan, we have an appointment at the Kleinfeld's Bridal! My parents are going to be there! My sisters..."

Ryan's stress level was rising. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gave the cartilage a squeeze.

"... My aunts and my friends are going to be at the fitting as well! You have to be there, Ryan!"

He was about to shout into his phone, when he realized that he was still in his office. The last thing he wanted was for his fellow co-workers to hear one of his temper tantrums. "I have a meeting to attend and it is an important one. I cannot skip this meeting because you want me to," he explained while keeping his voice low.

"Cancel the meeting then," she demanded. "I'm sure that your employees would appreciate—

"Who-the-fuck do you think I am?" he growled into the phone. "I don't run shit here! I just sit around and follow orders like a good little dog!"

"My family is going to be there! What will I say to them, Ryan?"

"I don't give a shit!"

Then, he hung up the phone. He managed to strike his injured fingers against the desk. A startling pain scorched through each finger. "Argh fuck!" he hissed. He held up his left hand and tried to absolve the pain. Ryan reclined in his chair and continued to stare at his hand. He gazed at his three broken fingers which were encased in three individual splints. He thought back to the night in which the injuries had occurred.

Shortly thereafter, the corner office on the 38th floor that was built in the North Tower of the World Trade Center was filled with fear-inspired whimpers.

****

January of 2001

'What am I doing here? And why in the hell did I think that this was a great idea? God, it is so fucking cold in here!'

He cupped his hands over the lower part of his face and he blew hot, moist air into his palms. The hot air provided temporary relief to his slightly frost-bitten fingers. He pulled the collar of Ralph Lauren trench coat tighter to his neck.

Ryan Whittler contemplated whether or not staking out Kali's place was a great idea. When the idea had first popped up in his mind, he concluded that the idea was a brilliant one.

He needed to know what Kali has been doing, for the past three weeks. He hasn't been able to communicate with her. The last time Ryan had any form of communication with his reluctant concubine was on the night of the holiday party that was hosted by Dr. and Mrs. Tolley. Thanks to Jack Logan and Daniel, Ryan hasn't spoken to her after his tiny bit of interaction with her, in the basement of the Tolley's house.

In regards to the time after the night of the party, he was busy with Suzette and dealing with her bullshit. After he agreed to undergone her demands, she kept Ryan busy with plans for the upcoming wedding. The only time there was a reprieve for him, it occurred four days after the party. He had to accompany his grandfather and his business partners on a trip to Tokyo, Japan to meet up with potential clients. The business trip lasted two weeks, but it felt like he was in the country for over a month.

On the day of his arrival into the United States, he called Kali to let her know that she needed to meet him at his home. He stood in the lobby of the John F. Kennedy Airport with his luggage by his side and called her phone. Instead of hearing her melodic voice, Ryan was greeted by an automated woman's voice telling him that Kali's telephone number was no longer in service. She changed her phone number.

As soon as he realized her action, he was shocked. Then, he started to feel embarrassed, which was followed up by the emotion of being slighted. Then, he began to feel mad for feeling slighted and embarrassed. Then, he felt mad at Kali for making him feel all of those emotions.

It was at this point, when the idea of staking out her house entered his mind.

'Shit, I need to go back home...'

Now, he knew that staking out her home wasn't a brilliant idea. It was a freezing, January night at 1:43 AM. As he drove from Manhattan, he listened to the radio. A newscaster stated that tonight's temperature was going to be -12 degrees. Then, he proceeded to warn his listeners to stay inside their homes, if they can. Ryan scoffed in disbelief at the deejay's warning.

'It's not that cold outside,' he thought, as he drove the car.

Now, all Ryan wanted to do was go back home.

'Fuck, I should take my ass back home...'

Then, a litany of images of Kali being fucked by Daniel had flashed before his mind's eye. It was as if his brain was taunting him. His anger rose. He could feel his cheeks blush. He felt his face grow warmer, despite the cabin of the vehicle feeling like an ice box. He glared out of the passenger side's window at the large house that was across the street from where the SUV was parked. He glared at the windows of Kali's home.

'One more hour,' he declared as he glared out of the window.

'TAP. TAP. TAP. TAP.'

"JESUS CHRIST!" Ryan screamed out, as well as, lifted out of his seat due to the fright that he just received.

He glanced out of the driver side's window, the location from where the tapping came from. He saw a person standing next to the SUV. He couldn't see the person's face. He only viewed their torso. Rather than exiting the vehicle, Ryan opened the car's door a little, so the person could hear him speak.

"What the fuck do you want?" inquired Ryan with an attitude.

He heard laughter and then saw the driver side's door being jerked open.

"Get the fuck out of the car, asshole!" the person demanded.

"Who the fuck do you think that you're talking to like that?"

The person who stood next to the vehicle bent at the waist and then presented his NYPD badge to him.

"This is..." the officer shoved his badge further into SUV and into Ryan's face. "... Who-the-fuck that I am, NYPD's finest! Now, get the hell out of the car!"

'Fuck,' Ryan screamed inside of his mind. He knew that this situation has gone from bad to worse for him. Ryan was sure that the cop believed that he was a junkie who came into an all-black community, because he wanted to score some dope.

"Come on, rich boy, step the fuck out of the car!" the officer ordered.

With reluctance, Ryan stepped out of the vehicle as the officer stepped out of the way. Once he was outside, he was able to feel the cold weather. A stiff, frigid breeze had slapped him on his face. Ryan let out a gasp of shock.

"Yeah, it's cold out of here, Lover Boy," the officer teased.

Ryan had taken a gander at the cop. He noticed the officer was a few inches shorter than him. Using the lit up street lamp as a vision aid, Ryan could see that the officer was a 'plain clothes cop'. He wore a denim jacket with a dark green sweat shirt underneath. There was a baseball cap on his head, which provided a shadow over his face. He wore his policeman's badge on a chain, as if his badge was the pendant.

"Quit fucking looking at me and get your ass over to the hood of the car!" the officer shouted at him. Ryan received a shove towards the SUV's door. His tall body crashed into the door. He lost his balance, stumbled and his lower body crashed into the sidewalk.

'Son of a bitch!' he said silently.

He heard the police officer laugh at him.

Ryan threw the officer a dirty glare. 'Keep on laughing, you dumb motherfucker!'

The officer grabbed Ryan's left bicep and tugged. "Get your ass up—

Ryan snatched his arm out of the man's clutch. He straightened himself up and fixed his trench coat.

"Whoo-hoo, look at Mister Money Bags over here," the officer taunted Ryan. "Turns out, he has some balls to him, after all!"

"Fuck you," Ryan said to the cop with a snarl on his face.

The cop laughed in response. "Yeah, yeah, yeah, now get your ass over to that hood!"

Ryan obeyed the officer's demand. He walked around the opened door and he trekked over to the front of the SUV. He performed the standard 'search-and-frisk' position: hands posted on the hood of the vehicle while his feet were a little more than hip-width apart. He kept his head down and he was leaning slightly towards the car. In this position, he couldn't view the cop anymore.

The officer walked around to the front of the vehicle and he stood behind Ryan. Silently, he frisked Ryan. First, he gave Ryan a general sweep. Then, another frisk but this time it was a thorough inspection. With his inspection, the officer whistled The Revels' "Comanche". He began with going through the pockets of his trench coat. The cop found nothing, except for the keys to Ryan's residence. Before he could invade Ryan's personal space even more, the officer was joined by his colleague.

'WHOOMP-WHOOMP!'

The loud siren had disrupted the peaceful environment that only the wee hours of the morning can provide. The sudden noise caused Ryan to flinch due to the fright. He lifted his head and looked into the street. He saw an unmarked, police car pull up next to the parked SUV. He heard the frisking officer laugh at him.

"You fucking pussy," he heard the officer chuckle out.

"Fuck you, you donut-eating pig," Ryan muttered under his breath.

Ryan glanced over his left shoulder, so he could glare at the officer. He only saw the top of his baseball cap. Then he turned his attention over to the squad car. The driver side's door opened. A few seconds later, another plainclothes cop exited the vehicle.

Thanks to the street lamp, Ryan was able to see the other cop somewhat. He guessed that this officer was either the same height or taller than him. He was African-American. He was bald. He couldn't determine the cop's facial features, due to the light. He wore a dark colored, 'bubble coat' and a pair of dark colored jeans. Unlike his colleague, he didn't have his badge visible.

"Put your fucking head down!" the new officer commanded.

Suddenly, Ryan felt a sharp pain at the crown of his head. The frisking officer had slapped the back of his head. "Put your fucking head down!" Then he grabbed a hold of his neck and pushed it towards the hood of the car. Ryan understood the command and he complied.

"Did you check his car...?"

The officer's inquiry conjured up the memory of Ryan's interaction with Jack Logan.

"...I will wait until you're riding in that fancy ass Lamborghini of yours and I'll have two officers place you under arrest for possession!"

'No, he wouldn't dare to do anything to me! He wouldn't...'

Ryan watched the other cop enter the rented SUV. He sat in the driver's seat and searched the car. Unexpectedly, he felt his head being push down again.

"Keep your fucking head down!"

Ryan let out a sigh. He was irritated and nervous. He was convinced that Jack Logan was the person behind this bullshit search tactic. He had enough clout amongst the NYPD ranks to be able to do this shit.

Moments later, Ryan's list of problems had increased. "BINGO," he heard shouted from the inside of the truck. Ryan glanced at the windshield. He saw the other officer hold up a tiny item. Thanks to the car's interior light, he was able to see what the officer was holding. It was a small plastic bag that was the size of a half-dollar coin. The bag was filled with a white colored substance.

'No,' his mind gasped. There was a twinge of fear released inside of Ryan's soul. 'No, no, no, no, no...'

With the fear clouding his better judgment, Ryan lashed out at the officers. "That shit is not mine and you know it!" Ryan shouted at the officer, who stood behind him.

"Whatever you say, you fucking coke head!" the officer said to him. "Put your hands behind your back!" The officer grabbed Ryan's left forearm. He pulled his arm free from the cop's hands. "Put your fucking hands behind your back!" the officer repeated.

"Fuck you," Ryan screamed at the officer.

In response, the officer punched Ryan on the base of his skull. His forehead projected forward and smacked the hood of the car with a violent impact. His head bounced off of the hood, as a reverberation. The hair that was located in the back of his head was grabbed and soon Ryan felt his face touch the cold metal.