A Subtle Induction (James London & Ariamella)

[James London]

Mason Flynn was not prone to fits of anxiety, having bullets fly by him in the Persian Gulf and Miami. Yet, here Mason was shaking like a leaf, as if he was a groom on his wedding day fearing his bride got cold feet and left him at the altar. After nineteen years he never expected Courtney to call him. The last time Mason saw Courtney, she cursed and struck him between sobs. "It should have been you, Mason. It should have been you!" She bemoaned as a baby cried. If only it was him. A lesser man would of hung up, and pretended that she never called. However, Mason only listened and when Courtney finished, he agreed without even thinking about it. Here he was, standing in Jackson's only airport, waiting for an all grown up Kylie to arrive. If McKellar-Sipes Regional looked like a former airbase, it was because it used to be one.

The airport may have only had one floor, but even the small airport had baggage claim, something Mason knew Kylie would be happy about. In hindsight he felt witless holding the sign. As much as Courtney hated him, Mason knew she would have told Kylie about him and what he looked like. Though having been a cop all his life, he knew precaution was golden. Besides he always imagined meeting Kylie all those years ago, sign and all. Though meeting John and Courtney’s daughter was one thing, but having her live with him was another. Mason heard the horror stories about Kylie, but he thought her mother was just being over dramatic. Even though he was a wild child, he doubted the validity of Kylie fucking half of Miami and taking one drug after another. If she was as bad as her mother claimed, Mason wondered why we she was so willing to send her to live with him. A man she blamed for John's death and a total stranger.

Like good whiskey Mason aged well, only looking thirty instead of forty. Rather than give the poor girl a scare, he wore a white shirt and denim jeans, rather than his uniform. With bated breath Mason watched as the plane landed. It took every fiber of his being not to walk away, and pretend this was only a dream that would be gone when he woke up. Mason cursed and stood his ground, his nerves on fire and his muscular frame tense. It wasn’t him, but that is why it had to be him. Nineteen years ago was a long time ago, but not long enough to forget the promise Mason made. Only as people poured out of the gate, did he wonder if he was up to the task set before him. Having never married or kids, Mason hadn't the slightest clue what he was in for. At least now he didn’t have to wait another nineteen years to find out.

 

[Chai]

The small American Airlines jet came to a complete stop, and people began rising from their seats, opening the overhead compartments to remove their carry-on luggage. Most of the passengers seemed eager to get off the plane, especially the families with young children who never seemed to grasp the concept of shutting the fuck up. Kylie Beck only rested quietly in her tight economy cabin seat, gazing out the oblong window and trying her hardest to ignore the 10 year-old boy to her right. His candy riddled breath was hot against her ear, blowing her blonde waves forward slightly as he pushed his face as far toward the window as he could. He gasped at the sight of massive mountains in the distance, almost yelling, "MOM! LOOK! Is that where we're going?"

The boy's mother only glanced down, seemingly okay with the fact that her son was penetrating a complete stranger's personal bubble, and she let out a sigh after setting down a small duffle bag that had Batman logos all over it. "That's where we're going, buddy," she finally answered him, grabbing hold of a slightly younger child——a girl that Kylie could only assume was her daughter——and whispering something in her husband's ear. A short moment passed, then a slightly overweight male reached down to tug on the boy's arm, pulling him away from the window. Thank god, Kylie thought, turning her head to glance up at the father.

"Sorry about that," the dad said, offering an apologetic smile as he lifted the Batman duffle bag and handed it to his son. "This is his first vacation outside our home state, so he's a little excited."

"Oh, is it?" Kylie asked, a sweet smile plastering itself on her face. It complimented her all-American, girl-next-door looks quite well, giving her an air of innocence and friendliness. "I hope you guys have tons of fun then!" Lies.

The man and his wife nodded at her enthusiastically then pulled their children along to walk down the single isle of the aircraft, and the smile disappeared off the young woman's face.

It was mid-summer, and Kylie knew that, like the family with the annoying kid, most of the passengers flying to Jackson, Wyoming were on vacation to visit either Grand Teton National Park or Yellowstone National Park. It was the perfect destination for those nature freaks and tree huggers who were all about getting lost in Mother Earth, or whatever it was they liked to do. But unlike them, she wasn't nearly as happy to be stuck in this small Midwestern town. What she was supposed to be doing right now was tanning on Miami Beach, breathing in the ocean air while salty waves lapped at her toes. She knew the hot guys would have been cat calling and wolf whistling, inviting her out for drinks even though she wasn't of legal age. And she knew she would have gladly accepted their offer to sit around a summer bonfire, all of them taking swigs from the same bottle of cheap vodka while someone started passing around equally cheap weed. And then later, she would have banged one of those hot guys. Maybe two of them if she was feeling up for it.

But as it was, she was sitting in a landed flight in Jackson, stalling the moment for when she actually had to get up and leave. Unable to deal with the crazy antics, her mother had sent her away to some random guy——Mason Flynn was it?——a friend of her late father. A former best friend, it seemed, by the way her mother talked about him. Kylie could only wonder why she hadn't met him before if he had supposedly been such a great friend, but she suspected it was because her mother had a problem with it. Courtney Beck had problems with everything; she was a regular stress machine, panicking about the smallest things in life: dinner, what color she was repainting the house, and even her own daughter, who she admitted was the biggest source of stress in her life. Sometimes Kylie wanted to tell her mom to hit a blunt and relax, but she knew it would only raise the stress levels even more.

The plane was almost empty when she finally stood to retrieve her carry-on, and she stretched out her 5'6" frame before opening the compartment and taking out one bag. It was a baby pink Michael Kors tote filled with miscellaneous items: a few snacks, a small bottle of travel perfume, some makeup, and a wallet of the very same pricey designer brand. She figured it was best to travel light considering she had bags upon bags of clothing and personal items that were checked in prior to boarding the flight. It was enough to make one think she was moving her whole life and more to Jackson, but the idea wasn't all that false. That's exactly what she was doing, wasn't it? With a small eye roll, she clutched the bag in the crook of her elbow and exited the plane, nodding her thanks to the pilot and flight crew before entering the airport.

It wasn't long before she spotted a man holding a sign with her name on it, and she had to actually fight herself to not roll her eyes again. Really, she was 19 and had flown alone plenty of times before, and her mother had showed her a picture of him. So why was Mason standing there with that idiotic sign as if she were some sort of special guest? The only reason she had agreed to this little plan was because it gave her a chance to escape her mother. That, and none of the rehabilitation centers of Miami seemed to be a great place to stay. Yes, she would have rather moved out to some lonely, small town in the middle of nowhere if only to avoid Courtney's threats of throwing her in rehab. Besides, having a bit of fun in the Midwest couldn't be all that bad, could it?

"Hi! I'm guessing you're Mr. Flynn?" Kylie had walked up to the man and smiled, asking for clarification ever so respectfully. It was all a facade, from the tone of her voice to her conservatively dressed body (relative to the way she normally dressed anyway), but it wasn't like he would know that. At least, not yet. While the black yoga pants, navy blue v-neck shirt and grey/navy Nike shoes were certainly flattering on her, that wasn't really her style at all. She shifted her weight from one side of her hips to the other, then pulled her long blonde waves to one side. Her sparkling green eyes met Mason's own. "It's nice to finally meet you. I'm Kylie, but I think my mom already told you that." She offered her hand and laughed lightly, a light feminine sound that seemed to capture the attention of some of the young men around them.

 

[James London]

Unless Kylie became a heavy set married woman with two kids over the course of the flight, it wasn't her that darted past Mason, chasing her rapturous boy. The boy's laughter lingered in his ears, as what ifs and what could have been, ran across his mind for the umpteenth time. His cross to bare. A cross that the man was content to grin and bare, for if the world's a stage and we are merely players, his role was that of the repentant martyr. All the same he found himself smiling.

At what appeared to be the last passengers departing the plane, it was all too easy for Mason to believe this was Courtney's climax of bitter hatred and Kylie wasn't on the plane at all. Yet, there she was and there was no mistaking her for anyone else, but John's daughter. She was less of a young woman and more a epitome of femininity, with her luscious golden locks and lithe yet curvy figure. The man was starting to think the problem had less to do with her, and more to do with the men that were bewitched by her. Not that he could blame them, as he used to be there age one, thinking less with his brain and more with his cock. But, that seemed a life time ago and besides she was John's daughter, now his charge.

It was only as Kylie drew closer to Mason, that he perceived a red flag. As a man it was not a revelation that he knew nothing of fashion, but what was surprising was the fact the girl's bag was a designer brand, and an expensive one at that. Too expensive for a teenager like her to be able to afford. There were two explanations on how she acquired the bag, and he chose the first and innocent story, that it was a gift. From who though? Courtney was a single mother and the household's only source of income. However, rather than flesh out the dark and lecherous scenario, he pushed out of his mind as she was looking right up at him.

"Please call me Mason, as your father and I are....." said Mason his rich bass voice cutting off at his admission of are instead of were, "Were good friends." The man felt ashamed having jumped the gun earlier, as the girl was wearing more clothes than most her age, being oblivious to the masquerade playing out before him. His sapphire gems meeting hers, he found himself drowning in a sea of green, her having her mother's eyes. "I've been waiting too long for this day, Kylie." A large warm smile played across his lips. The man chuckled and shaked his head, as she stretched her hand out to him. His grip tender he pulled her into a warm and tight hug, to the awe of the young men that were their audience. Some of them gave him a thumbs up or grinned, but he just rolled his eyes. To think he used to be their age.

Not wanting to further embarrass Kylie, Mason cut his embrace short. "Unless you have all your clothes in that bag, let's go get your luggage." The older man chuckled turned and indicated her to follow him. The great thing about McKellar-Sipes Regional only being one floor, was baggage claim was only a minute away, if even that. He found himself confused to see so many bags, as the other passengers by now should of claimed their belongings. To his dismay he realized they were all her bags, making a silent prayer glad that he brought his truck. Bag after bag finished loading the cart, his arms thick sinews straining as he played at being her beast of burden. "I swear you must have some dumbbells or bricks in there."

The outside of the airport was as small as the inside, with the parking lot only fitting a dozen or so cars at a time. Taking a well deserved union break, Mason pulled his keys out and unlocked his black 1986 Ford F150. Ever the gentlemen he strolled to the passenger's side and opened the door. "After you." He glanced her over, still wondering if this was real or not.

 

[Chai]

Kylie didn't do hugs.

At least, not unless she was going to fuck the guy later, but she let herself be pulled into Mason's embrace anyway, rolling her eyes while he couldn't see her face. He would learn soon enough that she wasn't the sweet little thing that he probably thought she was. She may have looked it, and innocence was likely a good look on her, but a dirty girl disguised by an angelic face was an even better look. Silently within the confines of her mind, she distantly wondered when he would eventually figure it all out. Maybe she would make her game more interesting by counting the days.

"Right, my dad," she echoed after him after she pulled away from the hug. Just her dad. Not Courtney. It confirmed her suspicions that her mother likely was not very good friends with the man in front of her. "Well, Mason, I'm sure he's glad that we're finally now meeting," she said with a smile, feigning nonchalance at the mention of the father she had never known. A pang of curiosity shot through her, but she brushed it off when Mason mentioned getting her luggage, and the curiosity was replaced by a knowing sparkle that lit up her eyes.

"I swear you must have some dumbbells or bricks in there," he said while placing her luggage onto the cart, and she could have laughed right there.

Dumbbells? Bricks? Not likely, she thought while she watched in muted amusement as he picked up one of the smaller bags that held most of her naughty clothing... if the thin strips of lace and impossibly short skirts and shorts could even be called that. And while some of her other bags indeed held heavier things like shoes, makeup organizers, and the few electronics that she did own, Mason should have guessed things like 'hoe heels' and a vibrator. Those would have been way more accurate. But instead, she offered a slightly apologetic smile before they walked outside to his truck.

Kylie climbed in with a polite nod of the head, bringing her hair to one side as the door was closed beside her. Then as Mason began loading her luggage into the bed of his black F150, she brought up her legs to hug them to her chest, resting her cheek on her kneecaps. A sigh left her chest as she flicked her eyes upwards to the rear view mirror where she saw her new... new what? What was Mason to her? He sure as hell wasn't going to parent her, and he wasn't just some caretaker. Well, in a way he was considering he was supposed to "shape her up" according to her mother. But as far as Kylie was concerned, he was neither a parent nor a guardian; he was just another guy whose house was a place for her to crash at.

Admittedly, he was a lot different than the men (boys, really) that she knew, but there was no helping that. He was 40 and pretty much the epitome of what was a good, gentlemanly man. As he rounded the truck and reached the driver's side, she brought her legs down and thought to herself that the age difference would have been cute if not for the fact that he likely wasn't into that. Especially not with her, his deceased friend's daughter. But the chase would be fun, if she ever were to go for it.

Then they were driving through the small city, silent except for the hum of the engine and tires against the road. She was never good at situations like these despite being an extrovert and having such an open personality. In fact, she couldn't recall a time when she was ever in the passenger seat with some sort of parental figure who wasn't fighting with her. Of course, she had been silent in the back of a cop car a couple times, but those were totally different. Curiously, she snuck a glance to the man driving, wondering if Courtney had told him everything. Everything. And whether he believed it or not.

But her private thoughts were interrupted by an audible grumbling sound, and Kylie gave a small laugh as she looked down at her lap. It was 10:30 AM in Wyoming, but it would have been half past noon in Miami by now, and hunger clawed at her stomach. "Do you mind if I grab something to eat?" she asked Mason, now turning her head to fully face him, "if it's alright with you. I mean, if you weren't planning on eating at your house. But if you are, I can wait, no problem."

 

[James London]

Jackson, Wyoming was typical small town America. You couldn't spit without hitting a building or several. Yet, unlike most small towns, Jackson was a thriving tourist destination as it served as a gateway to the Grand Teton National Park, Yellowstone National Park, and National Elk Refuge. Though the town itself only hosted close to ten thousand souls. Compared to Miami, Jackson was quaint and serene, his own personal refuge. As sheriff his worst fear was the occasional drunk tourist or rowdy local, as opposed to a barrage of lead. He may still wear his vest, but at least he didn’t have to pop anxiety pills anymore. Well, at least now when he took them it wasn’t because of having lived in Miami.

The silence between him and Kylie was deafening, the rapid thuds of Mason’s heart competed with the growl of the engine, for occupation of his ears. More than two decades separated them. At nineteen the man followed his best friend in joining the Army, while she was sent to live with him on charges that he suspected were at best over dramatized. A subject they had common ground would prove difficult, as the man didn’t keep up with the Kardashians and still listened to vinyl. I'm Mason and the reason why you don't have a father, but I'm sure we'll grow close as kin all the same. How about the weather we're having? The venom drenched words rang through his head. With a frown he kept his end of the quietude. Still he rather liked having her around, she was the spark that rekindled his sense of purpose.

Much to his chagrin, Mason was startled by Kylie's laugh, he just sighed and shaked his head. "Grab something to eat," he asked and looked around the trunk using his rear view mirror, "Sorry there's nothing here to grab and eat." The older man chuckled at what he thought to be a funny joke, only to stop mid laugh and cough. While not a dad, he knew a dad joke when he heard one, but more importantly he wasn't her father. All he knew was she was a promise he planned on keeping. "I'll treat you to a restaurant "foodies" love and just happens to be my favorite restaurant." He didn't know what foodies were, but he heard his younger officers use it, so he figured it gave him some semblance of being "hip".

Ever the gentlemen, Mason opened Kylie's car door and the door that led to Big Griff's Soda Shop. As the name implied it was 1950s inspired polished checkerboard floors, red booths, a black bar top with red stools, a jukebox, and all. As they waited for one of uniformed waitresses, he whisper a curse at the sight of a younger man at the bar, who happened to turn around spying him and the girl. He prayed the young man wouldn't do anything stupid, but he knew the man too well to not do something stupid. The man grinned from ear to ear and gave him a knowing wink, before turning back to the bar. "Is it just you two," inquired a honey sweet voice, "follow me". The older man snapped out of it and realized that Sarah, a cute brunette was waiting for them to follow her. He and Sarah first dated when he came to town, and like the few relationships after theirs, it didn't work out.

Once seated and having made their orders, Mason glanced over at Kylie, having some time to kill before they were served. Keen on not repeating the drive from the restaurant, he was the first to spoke. "I don't know if Courtney told, but here it goes." The older man sighed and stared into her eyes. "Kylie, when John died," he paused a frown on his lips , "When your father died I made a promise to him. I promised that I would help look after you. A promise I wasn't able to keep up till now." His frown grew larger, but he continued on. "While I don't believe in what Courtney told me, I just want you to know that if you ever need help I'm here for you." He knew it would take some time for her to believe him, but she had a right to know her father's last wish and his vow. His confession Sarah came back with their order and refill for his coke, him ordering a cheeseburger with fries.