Lyon's Den Ch. 12

Jenifer sat alone in the hospital waiting room. It had been over an hour since they arrived by ambulance, but still no word from the operating room on Bruce's condition. She couldn't seem to get warm. Her hands shook whenever they weren't clasped together in her lap.

A short, stout man, and a tall, thin woman, both wearing rumpled suitcoats, walked in. The woman sat down beside her, flashed a badge, and said, "Hello, Ms. Baxter, I'm Detective Madeline Greene and this is Detective George Firestone. How are you doing?"

"I'm worried, that's how I'm doing," she said, in a tone harsher than she intended.

"I understand. Waiting is the worst. Would you mind answering some questions about what happened?"

Warily, Jenifer said, "Okay."

"Is that blood on your shirt?"

Jenifer glanced down. She'd forgotten it was there. "Yes."

Detective Greene looked up at her partner, and said, "See if you can get Ms. Baxter some scrubs to put on. We're going to need the shirt for evidence."

"Why?" asked Jenifer.

"It's just a formality. We have to gather all the evidence we can. Probably won't even have it tested. This sounds like an open and shut case of justifiable homicide."

"Is Daniel in trouble? He saved our lives! That maniac was going to kill me!" Her volume increased with her anxiety, "My husband got shot!"

"Please calm down, Ms. Baxter. I'm sure everything will be fine. We have to do our jobs - dot all the I's and cross all the T's."

Jenifer inhaled a deep breath, let it out slowly, and said, "I'm sorry. It's just... everything is so..." Her voice cracked, and she couldn't go on without crying, so she stared at her folded hands.

Firestone returned carrying a blue top and a plastic evidence bag.

"Thanks, George," said Greene, as she stood and took them. "Come on, Ms. Baxter. I'll walk you to the ladies room, and you can change shirts." As they left the waiting room, she turned to her partner, and said, "See if you can get an update on Mr. Baxter's condition."

"You got it."

Having something to do eased Jenifer's tension. She entered the ladies room, replaced her shirt with the scrubs, and put the evidence in the bag, all under the watchful eye of Detective Greene.

"Some blood leaked through. I'll wait outside if you want to wash it off."

Jenifer turned to the mirror and lifted the shirt. A large, brownish stain marked her left breast. Wearing Bruce's blood seemed appropriate and made her feel connected to him.

"No, I'll shower later," she said, choking up.

They walked silently back to the waiting room. Detective Firestone stood as they entered.

Afraid to ask, Jenifer stared at him expectantly.

"He's still in surgery. The doctor will speak with you when they're finished."

Sinking into a chair, Jenifer sobbed. "At least they're still working on him, so he's alive."

No one spoke for a minute, letting emotions settle.

Detective Greene sat down beside Jenifer again, rubbed her back soothingly, and said, "Let's get this over with, so we can get out of here and stop bothering you."

"Okay, what do you want to know?"

Detective Firestone flipped open a notepad, and prepared to write.

"Did you know your assailants?"

"I recognized one of them. All I know is his first name, Carl."

"Which one was he?"

"The one that Daniel shot."

"How do you know him?"

"He was a security guard where I worked a couple of years ago."

"And where was that?"

Afraid of being judged unfairly, Jenifer answered, "The Barkley Building, downtown."

The detectives glanced at each other with sudden interest.

"What company did you work for? There are several businesses there?"

It wouldn't do any good to lie to the police, so she answered truthfully, "Virile Desires."

Detective Firestone blurted out, "V.D.? What did you do at V. D.?"

Jenifer cringed at the unfortunate abbreviated nickname of her former employer, while Detective Greene scowled at her partner's crudeness.

Staring at her folded hands, Jenifer said, "I was an... actress." Saying it out loud made her feel pathetic and small. 'Actress' sounded so presumptuous to her own ears. The job she thought set her free from past abuse now seemed to be the cause of her current nightmare.

"How old are you, Ms. Baxter?"

"Twenty-two."

"When did you first work for Virile Desires?"

The questioning took an ugly turn. Her past was none of their business. Jenifer began to feel trapped by her own admissions. "Why are you asking? What does that have to do with anything?"

Detective Greene's voice softened when she answered. "I'm sorry, but your case just became more complicated. Virile Desires was shut down about a year ago, and the owner, Vladimir Kolinski, is going on trial for sex trafficking and prostitution. He was using underage actors - taking advantage of runaways he found living on the street. Did you know that Daniel Lyons owns the Barkley Building?"

It was Jenifer's turn to look surprised. "No, I didn't."

"How did you meet Mr. Lyons?"

"We met at a restaurant."

"When was that?"

"A few years ago."

"Ms. Baxter, were you under the age of 18 when you started acting in the Virile Desires movies?"

Anger began to well up inside Jenifer. "I'm sitting here in the hospital because my fucked up past has come back to turn my life to shit. I may lose the love of my life tonight, and you're hounding me about something that happened years ago. I'm done with that life, and I'm done with answering your questions. If you're going to arrest me, then do it!"

Detective Greene sighed. "I'm sorry. You misunderstand. You're not a suspect. You're a victim in this. We have circumstantial evidence, but we need a witness willing to testify against Mr. Kolinski. Everyone we've talked to has refused to cooperate. We need to put predators like him away, but we need help."

"I didn't know Kolinski. I never met him."

"I see." Detective Greene paused to collect her thoughts. "Let's get back to what happened tonight. Tell us what you remember."

Jenifer recounted the nightmarish events without interruption, while Detective Firestone scribbled notes.

"So this man, Carl, he was threatening to stab you when Mr. Lyons shot him?"

Jenifer whimpered, "Yes," the blade, glowing in the firelight, ready to strike, vivid in her memory. "But he wasn't just threatening to do it. He was going to do it; because he was angry I hit him. If Daniel hadn't shot when he did... I'd be dead."

"I see." Detective Greene stood, and held out her hand. "We have enough information for now, Ms. Baxter. I hope your husband pulls through. Thank you for your time."

Jenifer remained seated, but shook her hand, and said, "Thank you."

Greene handed Jenifer a business card, and said, "Call us if you think of anything that can help us with the Kolinski case."

Left alone once again, her thoughts slipped back five years to when she was 17 and living on the streets, doing whatever it took to survive. She still had the stolen driver's license she'd used to pass for 19. The Virile Desires talent agent just glanced at the date of birth, and said, "Okay, fine, let's do a screen test," and the rest was sordid history. She'd survived and made a better life, or at least she thought she did.

Her mind wandered back to the first time she met Daniel. It was on her nineteenth birthday. Some of the actors took her out to celebrate what they thought was her twenty-first birthday.

***

Daniel walked into the restaurant, Brenda whispered, "Oh my god, wouldn't he make a fine Sugar Daddy."

Jenifer turned around, and remembered how distinguished he appeared with his greying temples and wearing an Armani suit. "Hey, it's my birthday. I call dibs."

Thinking fast, Jenifer picked up her drink, stood, and turned into him as he passed. The collision caused her cranberry daiquiri to spill down her white blouse. Her impromptu idea was to extract a little money from the rich stranger for a better blouse, and maybe even a free meal. But the unforeseen consequence was the thin fabric, cold drink, and lack of brassiere created an instant wet tee-shirt contest winner.

"Shit!" She wouldn't be able to stay and party with her boob on display.

Daniel came to her rescue for the first time. "I'm so sorry," he said, removing his suit coat and placing it around her shoulders. "Here, take this. I know the owner. Come with me and we'll get you cleaned up."

As they walked toward the kitchen, her friends oo'ed, and Brenda yelled, "It's her birthday!"

Jenifer looked over her shoulder and glared at them.

"It's your birthday?"

"Yeah, I'm twenty-one today," she said, enjoying the warmth of his coat and the hint of expensive cologne.

"Well, happy birthday! I'll get you back to your party as soon as possible," he said, holding open the kitchen door. Unfortunately, the kitchen staff didn't have any clean uniforms left. Daniel, unruffled by the turn of events, said, "I guess you'll have to keep my jacket until you get home. Here's my card. Call me and I'll pick it up. And let me give you some money to replace the blouse I ruined."

Jenifer, unaccustomed to chivalry, felt an uncharacteristic flood of warmth. "That's so cool of you. This is an expensive suit. I don't want to ruin it."

"Don't worry about it. It's an old suit."

"But still, I should be careful not to stain it." She walked into the secluded pantry, took off Daniel's jacket, and handed it to him. Turning away, she said, "My shirt is wet," and proceeded to remove it. With her bare back exposed to Daniel's gaze, she dropped her shirt and held out her hand. When she felt the jacket on her fingers, she said, "Thank you," and put it on, turning back around to show off a nice vee of cleavage. The sleeves hung down below her hands. "It's a little big."

"But it looks good on you," said Daniel, grinning.

"Thanks," she said, grinning back.

"Well, I'd better let you get back to your birthday party." He offered her his arm, another gentlemanly behavior she'd never experienced before.

But when they returned to the table, no one was there. The unpaid check lay in front of her chair.

"You have got to be kidding me! Those assholes skipped?"

"Nice friends you have. It's kind of an opposite birthday gift."

Jenifer dug into her jeans pocket, "Tell me something I don't know."

"I guess they thought the old, rich guy would foot the bill after ruining your blouse."

"What? No!" she said with too much emphasis.

Daniel waved to the waitress, who hurried over. "Laurie, put this on my tab, please."

"Okay, Mr. Lyons, no problem."

Jenifer picked up on Laurie's ingratiating tone and flirtatious glance, while Daniel seemed oblivious.

They left the restaurant together. Daniel opened the door, saying, "Do you need a ride home?"

She lied, "No, I have a car around the corner."

"Well, I have some business to attend to. So, when you're done with the jacket, give me a call, or drop it off at my studio if you have time. I'm usually there on Saturdays. The address is on the card."

"You're a photographer? Do you hire models?"

"Occasionally. Are you interested?"

"Maybe. What kind of photographs are we talking about?"

"Stop by on Saturday, and I'll show you my work."

And that's what she did a week later. Daniel unashamedly showed Jenifer his sensual and erotic works of art. They drank wine. He told her she was a beautiful woman. He took her picture. He took a lot of pictures. It wasn't long before she was modeling semi-nude, and that was the start of a yearlong sexual relationship with her first gentleman lover. The first lover that helped her feel something more than a tolerance for an intimate touch. Daniel helped her find something profound and beautiful in sex. He introduced her to his circle of friends with benefits. They also made her feel special, not just a sex toy, not just a depository for sexual relief. Performing in porn soon became burdensome, an affront to the beautiful sharing that sex had become. Daniel did that for her, intentional or not. She wouldn't believe he could be involved with taking advantage of children in distress.

And then Daniel introduced her to Bruce.

Jenifer sighed, and looked at the clock. He'd been in surgery for almost two hours, now.

She thought back to the day she met Bruce. In the middle of a torrential downpour, she'd run from her car to Daniel's studio, looking like she'd been hit with a fire hose when she entered dripping wet.

"Fuck! I'm soaked!" Jenifer looked up to see Daniel standing next to a tall, well dressed, young man. The stranger looked her up and down, and then turned away, seeming embarrassed.

Jenifer looked down at the wet tee-shirt clinging to her chest, and pulled it away from her skin.

Daniel laughed, and said, "This reminds me a little of how we met, Jen."

She laughed. "It's my signature introduction to attractive men. I'll go to the studio and put on something dry."

"This is Bruce Baxter. He's my new real estate web designer. Bruce, this is Jenifer Clark."

Bruce locked eyes with her, and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenifer."

"Hi." They shook hands. She was intrigued by his formal and respectful manner, uncommon in her life before Daniel. He was also the first man near her own age she'd met in Bruce's company. Speaking to Daniel, but smiling at Bruce, she said, "I'll get ready for the shoot."

"Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes. I'd like to do something different today. Put on the wedding gown. I want to try some formal shots."

The uncharacteristic attraction Jenifer felt for someone she'd just met made her exaggerate the sway of her hips as she walked away, hoping he was watching.

Jenifer put on the gown and stood in front of the 3-way mirror. Her shoulders were bare and the tight bodice accentuated her breasts. Her heart fluttered at the thought of being a bride. She felt fresh and clean, wearing the white, satiny brocade.

"Wow, Jen, you look fantastic!" said Daniel.

"Thank you!" she turned to see both Daniel and Bruce staring transfixed. "It's a beautiful dress. Where'd you get it?"

"It was my wife's," said Daniel, with a little hitch in his voice. "I was hoping to give it away to a deserving young woman someday."

"Well, she'd be lucky to have it," said Jenifer, spinning to make the gown bloom like a flower. "What do you think, Bruce?"

"It looks like it was made for you." Abruptly, he turned to Daniel, and said, "I should be going. You have work to do."

Disappointed he wanted to leave, Jenifer thought fast, "Dan, wouldn't Bruce make a perfect groom for your pictures?"

Picking up on her interest, Daniel said, "He would. I don't have a tux that would fit him, but his suit is formal enough. How about it Bruce, be a model for a day."

"I don't know anything about posing for pictures."

Jenifer reached out and took his hand. "Please? For me?"

Bruce looked at her hand in his and seemed to hold his breath. When he looked up into her eyes she felt magnetism between them. She swore to this day it was love at first touch. She'd seen it in a movie once, and thought it sounded corny, until then.

Daniel had them pose in all the traditional wedding poses - looking at each other while holding hands, dancing, Jenifer standing in front with his arms around waist. Bruce finally relaxed and became amenable to instructions.

"Okay, now let's have the 'you may now kiss the bride' shot."

Jenifer spun around with eagerness.

Bruce's face reddened. "Is that necessary?"

"Bruce, you're blushing!" teased Jenifer. Then, another thought came to mind. "Oh no, I'm sorry, are you gay?"

That made him laugh. "No, I'm not gay, just... shy about public displays of affection."

The use of the word affection threw her. This was just pretend, just acting. But she liked that he called it affection. Kissing meant something personal to him.

"Okay. I understand, I guess. We'll make up some ground rules. Lips stay closed, no tongue. How's that?"

Bruce looked at Daniel, who said, "All I want are lips touching. However you make that happen is fine with me." He brought the camera up, ready for action.

Bruce looked at Jenifer and shrugged. He took her in his arms, and she delightedly pressed against him. When he tipped his head down, Jenifer ran her fingers into his hair and held his lips firmly to hers. Disobeying the rules, she opened her mouth and tickled his lips with her tongue. At first he recoiled, but she held fast, continuing to give her best. Finally he relaxed and opened his lips to her probing, and soon tangled tongues with her. He became overwhelmed by the sensations, pulling her tighter, kissing her passionately. It felt amazing, and she groaned with the pleasure of his embrace.

"Okay, you two. Very nice. I've got what I need. Do I have to get the hose?"

Bruce pushed away, suddenly releasing her. "I'm sorry. I went too far."

Laughing, Jenifer fanned herself, and said, "I don't know. Maybe we're just getting started."

The pronounced bulge in his pants showed parts of him wanted to continue.

Half kidding, she said, "Maybe we should shoot some of the wedding night."

This seemed to really embarrass Bruce. His face turned beet red, and he stammered, "I really have to go. I have a... thing in a little while."

Not willing to let him getaway that easily, she said, "Okay. But I'd really like to see you again. Daniel has your number, right? Would you mind if I called you sometime?"

As he buttoned his suit coat to hide his erection, Bruce said, "Yes, I'd like that." He turned quickly and walked away. Over his shoulder, he said, "I'm free most nights and weekends. Bye, Daniel. Nice meeting you, Jenifer. Uh, thank you."

After he left, Daniel looked at Jenifer with a raised eyebrow. "That was some kiss you planted on him. What was that about?"

Unashamedly, she looked at the exit, and said, "I don't know exactly. But I want more, lots more."

***

Noise in the hallway brought Jenifer out of reminiscing. She glanced up at the waiting room clock. Bruce had been in surgery for two-and-a-half hours now. His parents should be told, but her phone was home charging and she didn't know their number. Besides, they didn't approve of her as a daughter-in-law, and hadn't spoken to Bruce since they married. Was she really that awful? Wouldn't he have been better off if she'd never pursued him? But she had. She fell in love with him - his maturity, his determination, and his innocence. Bruce was the only man she'd ever really seduced, the only one she'd wanted too.

***

Their first date was so uncommon that Jenifer didn't know how to react. They met at a coffee shop, sat across from each other, and engaged in chitchat - mundane, getting-to-know-you conversation. The young men she knew were always coming on to her and bragging about themselves. Bruce seemed genuinely interested in learning about her, which scared her, considering her life experience and her job. So, she just kept deflecting his curiosity by asking him questions.

Eventually, he forced the issue. "Jenifer, I get the impression you don't want to talk about yourself. Why is that?"

It was now or never time. So, she bluntly and briefly told him about her screwed up childhood, about growing up with an alcoholic mother and her deviant boyfriends. Then she lied, and said, "I'm an exotic dancer. That's how I make a living."

The angry look on his face made her stomach drop to the floor, and thought, 'I'll never see him again.'

"Hmm... Wow that is sad, really sad." Then he reached across the table, took her hand, and smiled. "But now you're out of there, making a better life for yourself. I admire that."

Her stomach returned, bumping her heart up into her throat. She choked back tears at the relief and joy she felt from his acceptance. "Thanks. I am free now. Free to be me."