One in Ten Ch. 04

"Bethany Fremont bought them for me," I replied. I would have thought that would be a conversation killer.

These were nice clothes. There was no way I could have afforded them on my own. Without a scholarship I couldn't have swung the tuition at a college as nice as Bowden.

"Why didn't you get rid of them?" Angel asked.

"I put all her stuff in boxes, I put the boxes in my closet and I didn't look at them for three years," I informed her.

"I tried to act like they weren't even there. I couldn't touch them. The closest they came to the dumpster was when I was loading my rental for the drive here," I related. "I thought that time of my life was behind me and I needed the clothes, so I kept them. Now, after confessing all this, I feel like a total retard."

"Don't," Angel insisted. "You have to work with her for now so keeping your clothes doesn't matter."

"Besides, she didn't wear those clothes," Roni added. "They should remind you of you, not of her. We have to get to the party. Olga is bringing Jean Paul and if he's the sole guy there, she's going to be pissed."

"Olga?" I queried. If a woman could get pissed with you, a man need to know what she could bring to bear.

"Public Utilities Department," Angel explained. Power, sewer, communications - oh joy. Since she lived in this complex, she most likely worked in the field as opposed to an office.

The trip to the complex's pool set my nerves on edge. At the office, I could pretend to hide in my cubicle. At press conferences, I had my college training to keep my fears in check. On the metro, I could create a veil around myself to ignore all but the most intrusive female. Here - I was going to have to interact with women coming at me from all directions.

"I've got you," Angel whispered into my ear. She must have sensed me starting to shiver. Whatever courage I could work out from that promise was set aside as a blur came charging at me.

"You came!" Kuiko squealed. "I was afraid you would be overcome with a rare bout of common sense."

Panic was overwhelmed by the phrase 'rare bout of common sense'. I snickered nervously.

"Hug?" Kuiko vibrated. The complication wasn't hugging Kuiko; it was having to hug every other woman at the party. I assumed that Jean Paul would go without. I opened my arms and Kuiko cautiously flowed into my embrace.

The tender moment was destroyed when Kuiko took her first deep breath of my aroma. She really was a total spaz.

"You've had sex!" she squealed even louder. Oh shit! I was sure that the Deli three blocks down didn't hear that.

"I outta shoot you," Angel hissed at Kuiko.

"Really, that's so cool," Venus hopped up. "It didn't even take you 28 fucking days either."

As the girls started closing in, Kuiko realized the enormity of her mistake.

"Oh my Goddess," Roni gasped in real, fearful understand. "This is what your life is like."

Yeah, it was different for Roni when the sexual liaison that the guy was trying to keep quiet about was with her best friend.

"Bracelet," Samantha demanded. There was nothing I could do; it was the damn law. She scanned my shackle, blinked then looked up at me.

"Really?" she turned to Angel. Detective Kristi was stone-faced. "Four times?" I had started out intending to have one long, sensuous erotic session with Angel. I took my time. I really took my time. For an hour and a half we took comfort in each other's bodies and energy. When we finally finished, we were exhausted and Angel Kristi had a new definition for love-making.

We rested for a bit then mutually decided to take a shower. Half way through the process, I suddenly found her staring at me excitedly. That was round two - brutal, raw and feverishly carnal. We cleaned up, went back to the bedroom, trying to figure out what had just happened - the thing in the shower. We seemed to have a positive consensus concerning our first encounter.

She turned to me, our hands touched. We couldn't find the words so we filled the void with a kiss. Thus began round three. Angel was more dominant that time around because that was her nature and I had been willing to submit somewhat without losing my sense of self. Angel was so enraptured and grateful for the experience, that it made it all worthwhile.

We agreed we needed a shower once more. We agreed we could do it together without worrying about having intercourse again. We were doing okay until Angel was washing her hair. She put the shampoo bottle in the holder but as she did so, she tilted her hips back and her buttocks pressed against my slumber prick. Thus began round four.

Next thing I knew, I was powerfully aroused, I had her pressed face-first against the shower wall and I was slowly pumping in and out of her while she pushed back with every stroke. We were lucky we didn't turn into prunes after all the water that ran over our bodies. Angel and I were still trying to put some sense or reason to the morning when Roni showed up.

"Angel, you cured him," Venus declared.

"No, I didn't," Angel countered.

"Who did then?" Samantha pressed.

"He's not cured," Roni stepped up.

"But he had sex four times in the last five hours," a different women said after looking over Samantha's shoulder. "He has to be cured."

"No!" Kuiko shouted. "He's in love." That was not a concept I was willing to face. Love had been so terribly cruel to me.

"Calm the fuck down," Angel commanded. "Israel and I are not..." she stopped. "Israel, are you in love with me?" she touched my arm and inquired in disbelief. See, me being in love with her would make the entire past two days of our lives make sense, so we both denied it. With my life lessons in mind, I did the only thing I could. I turned and walked rapidly back toward my condo.

"Israel?" six different female voices called out. No one seemed to get the message that walking away was a clear signal I wasn't going to have this discussion. I picked up my pace. I made it inside my place, but was at a loss how to continue further. My domicile wasn't safe. No place in the city was safe for that matter.

I was staggering around the living room, trying to reason out if the bathroom was safer than the bedroom when the doorbell rang.

"Israel, we need to talk," Angel requested. I found it remarkable that there was this confidence within me that if I told Angel to leave me alone, she would.

I flicked the lock and she came in. We had this détente for several minutes before Angel gave up on attempting to bring order out of the chaos we were immersed in.

"Israel, if you - if you like - no, if you care - I mean, if you - have feelings - no damn it - if you love me - I - I wouldn't mind - no, I mean, I would like that," she stammered.

"You realize this makes our lives worse, not better?" I reminded her. Being in love meant there was something else that could be taken away from us. Love was an intoxicating fantasy. In reality, love, loyalty and devotion were counter-productive to what men were supposed to do. Women could hold the desire to fall in love, but to wish a man to fall in love with you was selfish.

"Worse?" Angel groaned sarcastically. "Telling my superiors I've fallen for they guy I'm supposed to be watching over is going to go over like an ember on a glacier." It took me a second to realize that was Angel's way of saying she loved me without using those exact words. "What are we going to do if I am transferred?"

"You move in with me, I guess," I replied.

"Israel, you wouldn't let me in your condo when we first met. We were shouting at each other yesterday," Angel made excuses. I didn't know if that was to give me an out or convince her not to make the commitment.

"Any relationship with me is going to be far from perfect," I told her. "I'll give you everything I can. I can't promise more than that."

"If I wake you up in the middle of the night wanting sex, what will you do?" she sighed.

"Scream," I answered honestly.

"Oh," she snickered ruefully. "This is nuts. We are so wrong for each other, but - if my boss blows up and I don't move in, Kuiko will camp out on your doorstep in a misguided attempt to protect you."

"I've never been more worried about someone I think honestly cares about me doing me harm by accident," I related to Angel my feelings toward Kuiko.

"I - um - see where you are coming from," Angel nodded. "If she stays over for the night, she sleeps on the sofa. I find her less irritating as I get to know her, but I don't trust her."

"Okay Angel, being referred to as a possession makes me uncomfortable," I explained.

"Fine, I'll put in an Attachment Request on Monday," Angel decided.

"Please refer to my last statement," I expressed my concern.

"You don't want to become attached?" she worried.

"I don't know what that would mean to you," I reposed. "If you think it means you can better protect me, I have to say 'no'. If you want to do it so we can hang out together then I'm okay with it."

"You are giving me conditions? Do you think you are the only man I can get with?" Angel grumbled.

"I don't care, Angel," I held my ground. "You aren't a contest to me. I'm not measuring you against anyone."

"If you must know, I can get with a woman who is richer, can protect me better and make my life easier. I don't think I can find someone who can care for me more than you do though," I explained. "I certainly don't want you because you are a cop. I want you because you scream and yell at me, but then you apologize and mean it."

"There is no way you are going to let me be in charge, is there?" Angel stared at me intently.

"I sincerely doubt it," I confessed. "It's not just you. I don't know if I will ever release all control to a woman again."

"I swear to God, Bethany Fremont and I are not finished," Angel pledged. I didn't want Angel to harbor a grudge against Bethany, but I wasn't about to become combative with Angel over the matter either.

"What do we do now?" Angel muttered.

"We go back to the party," I sighed. "I couldn't forgive myself if I left Jean Paul alone."

"You don't even know him," Angel questioned.

"On the off chance he is anything like me, I can't leave him alone," I told Angel. With that, we returned to the party and the flaming Perdition that was feminine civility and need.

(Saturday Night)

For the life of me I couldn't figure out how I ended up with six women in my tiny condominium. Even the delusion that I could control my own household was collapsing around me. I put my dresser against the bedroom door before changing for Isobel's meat market affair. The absurdity of it made me giggle nervously - I was barricaded in my bedroom so I wouldn't get molested as I dressed for an outing where I knew I would get molested.

Outside of my bedroom, I was the victim of the whole 'coterie' mentality among women. Angel and Kuiko made perfect sense and natural allies in creating a protective/possessive bond around me. Expanding upon my growing feminine network, Aniqua and Roni were organic additions, being friends and roommates of the first two.

Venus and Samantha had been included out of necessity. The first four couldn't keep an extended cordon around me to stop the other complex mates from crowding in. If those four closed in too much, it defeated the purpose of trying to limit my proximity anxiety. By some arcane process, Venus and Samantha had been the ones who migrated from the intruder side of the equation to the containment side.

Once dressed, I moved my dresser and returned to my crowded living room. I was confronted again by my fundamental ignorance of female communications. Angel and Kuiko could (almost) freely approach me. Roni and Aniqua had thrown a certain level of compassion and respect my way. My comfort level with them was established. Samantha and Venus were on the other side of the emotional dividing line - their desire for sexual contact was their first priority.

In no way I could fathom, the first four had decide on how much contact Venus and Samantha could have. I wasn't consulted. Hell, I wasn't aware of the actual conversation where that had been decided, but it clearly had. Venus and Samantha staying within those invisible guidelines - if they had strayed, I assumed the others would intervene - was more understandable.

If any woman broke the rules, the other five would expel them from my presence. My opinion was not sought out and I wasn't overly offended by my circumstance or insulted by the way I was being treated. In society, women naturally protected their interest in men. At least I had the choice of my 'shot-callers' - Angel and Kuiko aka the Odd Couple and the by-rules of this little group included not pressing me for sex.

I may have fallen in love with Angel, but it was Kuiko who opened my eyes. Sure, I was still primarily a cock and balls show. As my odd little Asian friend had showed me though, I could contribute a great deal to the peace with hugs, a smile and interactive conversation. I had the impression this was a totally new approach to most of the women with me - everyone but Kuiko.

Promptly at 8:15 pm the doorbell rang. The security system showed me a trim, strongly built woman with black hair and a crisp, coal-grey pant suit and white shirt at the door.

"Hello?" I greeted her cautiously from the other side of locked door.

"Mr. Jensen, I am your ride to the function tonight," she said. At least she didn't sound haughty.

"Israel, open the door - stand to the side," Angel ordered as she stepped out of the kitchen. I did as directed because I hadn't a clue what she was up to and it was too late to argue.

"Hey there..." the woman got out.

"I'm Detective Angel Kristi of the Metropolitan PD," Angel brandished her badge in her left hand.

I noticed Angel's right hand was behind her back.

"Show me some identification please," Angel directed.

"That is hardly necessary in this situation," the women smiled calmly.

"Let me rephrase," Angel glared as she whipped out her pistol from behind her back and pointed at the strange woman's head.

"Show me some God-damned ID right now or I'm going to paint the door across the hall with your skull and grey matter," Angel menaced convincingly.

"Whoa now," the woman raised her hands. "You've..."

"Wrong answer, Asshole," Angel's trigger finger tightened.

"Wait, I'm a cop!" the woman blurted out. When Angel didn't fire, she continued. "I'm pulling out my badge with my left hand, okay?"

"Nice and slow," Angel cautioned. "Hand it to Israel." The woman produced the badge as promised. I read the identification out loud - it was bad news.

"Sergeant Eliza DeMosa, Metropolitan Police Force. Executive Protection Detail," I read.

"See, I'm a fellow cop," Sergeant DeMosa started breathing again. "You can put the gun away now."

"Hardly a fellow, you fucking pimp," Angel snapped. I handed the Sergeant her badge back.

"What is your problem?" DeMosa shot back.

"You are dragging a man against his will to a whore fest - like you didn't know," Angel sneered.

"What?" the woman looked to me.

"It was this nightmare or a 72 hour psychiatric watch," I told her. "You don't need to put me in restraints, but please don't pretend I have a choice in this matter."

"Ummm - okay," Eliza replied. "We need to go now." I guess she had her orders.

"Sergeant, I want you to know that if Israel comes back fucked up, or doesn't come back at all, I'm looking you up," Angel promised. "No one else - just you."

"Detective, you need to have your hormone levels checked," DeMosa responded.

"Sergeant, you are about to run off with a twenty-one year old male," Angel snarled as she stepped forward and pressed the barrel of her pistol against Eliza's forehead. "If he gets damaged or vanishes, no one you are working for now will save you from the federal investigation that is going to land like the space station on your head."

"They are going to be more than happy to let me at you in an interrogation room where I am going to shove a cattle prod so far up your ass your teeth glow," Angel grew deathly calm. "If something happens to him, come at me guns blazing, flee to Amazonia, or swallow your piece because you will find no mercy from me. Clear?"

"As crystal, Detective," DeMosa answered. Angel stepped back and lowered her gun.

"Israel, be careful and keep your hopes alive," Angel said. As I made to leave, Kuiko ran up and hugged me, burying her head in my underarm.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," she repeated. "Sorry to crowd you, but please take care."

"It is okay," I sighed. "I have friends now." I didn't believe that would help me. In my experience, you are always alone in the dark. It was what Kuiko wanted to hear, so I said it as I petted her hair. I had to push her away before I could make my way out the door. Eliza and I walked in silence until her car pulled away from the front of my place.

"That is quite a little fan club," she noted jokingly. She had a gun pressed to her head a minute ago and I doubt she had sweated at all. "Phone," she directed me to hand mine over.

"Are you going to cause Detective Kristi problems?" I gave her my phone but deviated from the question.

"She put a gun to my head," she snorted. "Yeah, what she did was insane." With one hand, the latest cop in my life flipped my phone open and popped out the battery/GPS. She dumped the chip in a box then closed the lid.

"If you do, I'll claim you tried to kidnap me and she acted in my defense," I reasoned.

"What? No one cares what you say," Eliza shook her head. "The security system will have recorded it all."

"Nope," I chuckled dryly. "After all, then some important people would have to tell a Grand Jury exactly what you were doing at my door this evening."

"I was taking you to a party," Sgt. DeMosa said.

"What party? At what address? Why did you feel it necessary to take my phone away from me and deactivate my GPS?" I countered. "Who was at this party and who told you to come get me? After all, if this was official police business, why wouldn't the appropriate authorities have alerted Detective Kristi, my assigned watcher/guardian, that another police officer was coming over?"

"Damn," she actually sounded impressed. "I guess she's off the hook then." It was the never-ending saga of women assuming men were one step above illiterate subhuman savages. "I like you, by the way."

"Like me? We don't know each other," I worried.

"At the press conferences this week. Unlike everyone else, you sound like you know something and aren't afraid to tell people the truth," she related. "I did a stint in White Collar Crimes before moving over to EPD (executive protective detail). Trust me, suits lie all the damn time about everything, big or small."

"Why are you doing this - tonight?" I inquired.

"I want to make captain one day," she told me. "That means kissing some political ass."

"I'll let you know how it tastes," I muttered. There was nothing else to say. This was the benign indifference that pervaded this culture.

She knew something bad 'might' happen to me but since she didn't have to witness it, she'd let events take their course. She had her life to live and I was a man. The comfortable assumption to make was that I was doing what I need to do to get by as well. Eliza didn't seem to be a bad person. She didn't have to be. All she had to do was not get involved and she was doing that admirably.

Sergeant DeMosa dropped me off in front of one of those high security towers I would never, ever be able to afford to live in. It was designed to withstand hurricanes (if one ever came this far inland), earthquakes and the collapse of civilization. You would need an armored battalion to break into this place, or an elite team of Special Forces.

Two women detached themselves from the structure - it had a one-way mirrored face - and rounded me up without actually touching me. No one said anything. We had nothing to talk about. I sensed a greater deal of menace than I received from normal cops so I made the guess that they were ex-military.