Inside Lucifer's War (28 page)

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Authors: Byron J. Smith

BOOK: Inside Lucifer's War
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“Stop beating yourself up about any of this. We made decisions too. We could have let you walk out of our lives. We chose to surround you,” she says. “Can’t we just call the police?”

“And tell them what? The FBI isn’t going to corroborate this story. They don’t want to blow their cover. There isn’t any evidence that would stand up in court against anyone. We have nothing.”

“Why don’t the Feds help us?” she asks.

“I asked them the same question,” I say. “You’ll find their answer as sick as I did. They aren’t willing to risk themselves and their operation for just any person. If we were married and I were part of their operation, then they would do everything they could to protect you. As it is, they’ll put forth some minimal effort, but it won’t be enough.”

Without saying a word, she walks to the window and stares out. Finally she says, “Funny how things look when you don’t think you have much time left on earth.”

“It gets worse,” I say.

“How’s that possible?” she replies sarcastically.

“Someone visited me just before you came into the room.”

“You mean the janitor?” she interrupts.

“He might have looked like a janitor,” I say, “but he was nothing from this world. He’s one of Satan’s closest demons. He came to give me a demand from Lucifer.”

“What demand?” she asks.

“He said I have to kill you.”

“Satan wants me dead? And he wants you to do it?” she asks.

“Yes.”

“Is it the same reason the Principal wants me dead?” she asks.

“You’re a threat to Satan differently from the threat you pose to the Principal. For Lucifer, your faith is a threat. Your faith and its influence on me is a great threat. Lucifer saw Mike as a threat also. In fact, I’m not convinced I was the target of the shooting.” I pause for a moment. “I’m sorry. That was callous of me.”

“No. I believe you,” she says.

I lift up my pillow and show her the pills. “Lucifer’s demon told me to use these pills to kill you. They’re a slow poison.”

Staring at the pills, a solution suddenly comes to me. A solution so easy. Only my vanity prevented me from seeing it before.

“I could take them, though,” I say.

“Don’t even think about it!” she demands.

“Don’t you see? It’s the simplest solution. It’s the only solution.”

I can’t believe these words are coming out of my mouth. It’s as if I am watching myself say them. As I say them, I know it’s the right solution. It’s the way out. The way out that I can control.

“I can still save you, Stacie.”

“How dare you consider that! You tell me you love me, and now you’re going to kill yourself. I’d rather you kill me. You would be so selfish as to destroy me and waste Mike’s death? How dare you!” she stomps.

“I’m sorry. I just thought . . . ”

“No. We aren’t going to talk about that anymore.” She takes the pills out of my hand. She walks to the window again and stares out. For a while, neither of us says anything.

I see her open her hand, and a plan starts to develop in my mind.

“Will you marry me?” I blurt out.

“What?” she responds.

“I have an idea. But it may require us to pretend to be married. Since you aren’t the type to pretend about that type of thing, and since I already confessed my love for you, I’m asking if you will marry me.”

“Thomas, even if I do love you, I can’t marry a nonbeliever. I’m sorry,” she says. “What is this plan? Maybe there is another way.”

“Stacie, my heart has changed. I’m not saying it will be easy, and I have a long way to go as a person, and certainly as a Christian, but I’m ready. As I look back on my life and my work, if I’m honest with myself, I always knew there was a God, and I always knew he was pursuing me. I tried to run and push him away, but he was always there. That’s why Mike and you are in my life. The truth is that I was angry with God. I was angry with my father, and in my father I saw God. I saw a man who was willing to be meek, a man unwilling to take advantage of circumstances because of the model he wanted to be. I was angry that my mom died at an early age. I didn’t understand how God could do that to a family. It hurt me deeply and planted a seed of anger. I wanted my dad to be angry. He was hurt, even devastated at times, but he was not angry with God. As a child that made me even angrier. I lashed out against God, and I fed off that. As I grew older I thought I could hurt God and my father in the same way I felt they hurt me. If I denied God’s existence, and if I taught others what I believed, then I would get back at him. I understand now the destruction I’ve caused in my life and to those around me. I’m not a good man, and I need God’s grace.” I try to fight back the tears.

She walks over and kisses my hand.

“I promise that I will repent, confess my faith, and pray. I’m serious. I’m ready. The only thing is, now is not the right time,” I say. “Strangely, I know when that time will be, but it’s not now. I know it is hard to understand, but you have to trust me.”

“Let’s talk about your plan,” she says.

C
HAPTER 25

A Plan in Motion

So it’s all set then?” she asks.

We talked through the night, refining the plan, thinking of various scenarios, covering the bases. Finally, we’re done.

“Are you sure you can do this?” she asks.

“I have to,” I say. “Remember, though, you can back out when the time comes.”

“I know,” she says. “You have the hard part. I’m still struggling with the morality of this.”

“We’ve been through this all night. You said it yourself. This is a war. A spiritual war, but a war nonetheless. It’s on me, and I accept it. It’s time I text them,” I say.

She gets up, hands me my phone, kisses me, smiles, and walks out the door without looking back.

How long I have waited for that kiss! It was simply a short peck on the lips, but feeling her lips touch mine sends a warm feeling throughout me. If the plan fails and I don’t make it through the next few days, I will die with the memory of this kiss.

I look down at my phone, type in the text, and hit Send.

* * *

“Sabrina, when’s your lunch break?” I ask when she enters my room.

“I have to take mine early today,” she says. “Around ten thirty.”

“Can I ask a favor of you.”

“Sure, Dr. Fields,” she responds. “What is it?”

I call her over to me. “Stick out your hand.” She gives me her hand and I place twelve one-hundred-dollar bills in it. “I need you to make a quick run to Antoine’s Spirits. I’ll give you the address. It’s just around the corner. They have a bottle of 2007 Tenuta dell’Ornellaia Masseto waiting for me. I need for you to get the bottle and four wine glasses for me. The bottle will cost about five hundred, and the glasses should run another hundred. The rest is for you.”

“What’s Masseto?” she asks.

“It’s a bottle of wine,” I tell her.

“Hmm. I guess I can get you the wine and glasses, but I can’t take your money,” she says.

“I insist,” I say. “It’s important I have them here early this afternoon. Can you do that?”

“Absolutely,” she answers.

“Good morning, Tom,” Dr. Gunthry announces as he enters the room. “How is my thirty-second favorite patient?”

“How many patients do you have?” I ask.

“Thirty-three. There’s a stubborn old man upstairs who tried to hit me with his cane.” He smiles.

“Well, at least you like me more than him,” I say. “Tomorrow is still my big day, right? I’m still going to get to check out?”

“Yes. I see no reason to keep you here. I think you can get all the treatment you need at the rehab center and my office. But you need to take it easy. Don’t veer from the rehab guidelines too much. Also, I’m giving you the name of a neurologist. I sent him your CAT scans, and he’s going to follow up with you.”

It dawns on me that I failed to mention to him that I was going out of town soon. I decide not to tell him now.

“Great!” I say. “I love the nurses here, but the doctors are a real pain.”

Dr. Gunthry laughs back and shakes my hand. “Take care of yourself, Tom.”

With that, both he and Sabrina leave.

* * *

I look at the clock. It’s five thirty-five, and Kinsley and Bishop aren’t yet here. It’s unlike Kinsley to be late. I pace the room nervously. I look at the wine and glasses to make sure they’re arranged properly. I wonder why they’re late. I think about calling Stacie to find out if she is okay. Then I hear Kinsley’s voice as he says hello to someone in the hallway.

“Good afternoon, Thomas,” he says upon entering the room. “You look like a new man. I think you lost a few pounds while you were here.”

I reach down at my pants and pull them up slightly. “I think you’re right. Either I need to get a new belt or a new pair of pants. I’m worried these are going to end up around my ankles.”

We laugh. And then I realize Bishop is not with him.

“Where’s Bishop?” I ask.

“I thought he’d be here by now,” Kinsley says. “He had some business to take care of, but I thought it’d be finished earlier this afternoon.”

That answer makes me nervous. Bad thoughts run through my head. What business did he have to take care of? Was Stacie his business? Was he eliminating her today? I try to calm myself. I try to tell myself I’m just being paranoid.

I’m silent for too long. Then Kinsley interjects, “I’m surprised you asked for both of us. I thought he made you nervous.”

I get back into game mode. “That’s the thing. Lying in bed, a person has lots of time to think. I realized I’ve been unfair to Bishop. He’s done nothing but support me and help me. I owe him an apology. Also, between you and me, I think in the future I could use someone like him.”

“What do you mean by ‘someone like him’?” Kinsley probes.

“Bishop is a man’s man,” I respond. “There aren’t too many people who are going to upset you with him next to you. And he never loses his cool. I would think he would be a great confidante in times of stress.”

“You’re learning,” Kinsley says.

I’m also running out of time. I need both of them here for my plan to work. I decide to change the order of things and tell Kinsley a few things prior to Bishop’s arriving.

“I asked both of you here for a toast to our new future,” I say. I had some exquisite wine at home that I’ve been saving for a special occasion. This is as special an occasion as I can imagine. I’m really excited about this. But since Bishop isn’t here yet, I wanted to tell you something else. I hope you’ll understand.”

“I consider myself a fairly reasonable person,” Kinsley responds.

“I think so as well,” I say. “I know you don’t want me to go to Mike Fischer’s funeral tomorrow, and I respect that. But I need to.” I can see a frown coming across Kinsley’s face. “To be honest, I don’t want to. His sister, Stacie, came by last night. She stayed almost the entire night, telling me how much she loves me. I thought about calling security to have her removed, but she was so pathetic, I didn’t have the heart. I don’t do the love thing. I do the sex thing. I’ll admit, there were a few months when I was smitten with her. But hearing her tell me that she loved me, though. That brought me back to reality. I tried to break it off with her last night, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“What does this have to do with the funeral?” Kinsley asks.

“I’m going to show up drunk and make a jerk of myself in front of everyone. I’m going to make it so that she can’t help but hate me and will be glad to see me go. After that, there’s no way anyone in her family would let her see me.”

“I’m not sure,” Kinsley replies.

“I know you have no reason to, but I’m asking you to trust me. I know women, and I definitely know how to scorn women. After all, one of them did chased me down with a gun.” I let him ponder the thought.

“Okay,” he says, “but you’ll have a short rope on this one.”

“Got it. Don’t worry. This is the end.” Just as I say those words, Bishop comes into the room. Relief falls over my face. “Bishop, please come in. We were just talking about you.”

“Interesting,” Bishop responds.

“Yes, I think so too,” I start. “I want to apologize. I’ve been a jerk to you. I admit it. I’ve been an arrogant jerk. I blame my academic profession. You’ve done nothing but watch out for me and take care of me, and I have only shown you sarcasm and insults. I’m very sorry. You deserve my respect and you have it.”

He looks at Kinsley. Kinsley shrugs his shoulders. I extend my hand to him. There’s warmth in the room, so I use it as my opportunity to offer a toast to us.

“I was telling Kinsley that I had this bottle of wine I was saving for a special occasion,” I start.

“Where did you have this wine?” Bishop asks as I turn my back to them, positioning myself between them and the glasses on my table and pouring the wine into three of the four glasses.

“At my apartment, why?” I ask.

“Just curious how you got it here,” he says with suspicion in his voice.

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