Another Man, Another Chance

By John Locke

In the hospital, fighting for her life after being brutally raped, stabbed, and left for dead, 19-year-old Sarah Lawrence learned she was pregnant. After much soul-searching, she decided to give life to her baby and life in prison to her rapist. Unfortunately, after serving less than two years, her rapist is released on a technicality and is suing for joint custody of “their” child. With the law firmly on his side, the question becomes how far is Sarah willing to go to prevent him from becoming a permanent fixture in their lives?
Hint: how far would you go?
Advance Praise for Another Man, Another Chance:
“I read two books recently. One was a top 5 best seller considered ‘unputdownable’ by one of the premier thriller writers in America and the other was Locke’s new manuscript. Both were the same length. I finished the unputdownable one in six days and Locke’s in less than four hours. That should tell you all you need to know.”
“How can a book with such a serious subject make you laugh your ass off from start to finish? Your experience may vary but Another Man made me a Locke fan for life.”
“Locke is the only author in the world that can suck me into a plot in less than three paragraphs and keep me turning the pages until he's done with me.”

• Language: English
• Publisher: John Locke
• Release date: Jul 18, 2021
• ISBN: 9781937656317

John Locke

John Locke kommt 1632 im englischen Wrington zur Welt. Nach dem Besuch der Westminster School in London studiert Locke bis 1658 in Oxford. Zwischen 1660 und 1664 lehrt er dort Philosophie, Rhetorik und alte Sprachen. Sein enzyklopädisches Wissen und seine Studien in Erkenntnistheorie, Naturwissenschaften und Medizin bringen ihm früh die Mitgliedschaft in der Royal Society ein. Als Sekretär und Leibarzt des Earl of Shaftesbury ist Locke in Folge der politischen Machtkämpfe in England gezwungen, ins holländische Exil zu fliehen. Erst 1689 kehrt er nach England zurück und widmet sich auf seinem Landgut seinen Studien. Im selben Jahr erscheint anonym Ein Brief über Toleranz, der die ausschließliche Aufgabe des Staates im Schutz von Leben, Besitz und Freiheit seiner Bürger bestimmt. Die hier formulierten Ideen finden in der amerikanischen Unabhängigkeitserklärung ihren politischen Widerhall. Lockes Hauptwerk, der Versuch über den menschlichen Verstand, erscheint erst 1690 vollständig, wird aber vermutlich bereit 20 Jahre früher begonnen. Es begründet die Erkenntnistheorie als neuzeitliche Form des Philosophierens, die besonders in der französischen Aufklärung nachwirkt. Locke lehnt darin Descartes' Vorstellung von den eingeborenen Ideen ab und vertritt einen konsequenten Empirismus. Aus der theoretischen Einsicht in die Begrenztheit der Erkenntnisfähigkeit ergibt sich für Locke die Forderung, daß sich weder ein Staatssouverän noch eine Glaubensgemeinschaft im Besitz der allein gültigen Wahrheit wähnen darf. Der mündige Bürger, der in der Lage ist, kritisch selbst zu entscheiden, wird konsequenterweise zum pädagogischen Ziel Lockes. John Locke stirbt 1704 als europäische Berühmtheit auf seinem Landsitz in Oates.

Book preview

Foreword

THREE YEARS EARLIER…

I.

Mark & Lexi

Franklin, Indiana

STANDING BESIDE THE bed, Mark watched the peaceful rise and fall of his wife’s chest as she slept silently. Though not a classic beauty, Lexi was staggeringly cute. Adorable, people said. Girl next door. Personality plus. Irresistible to men. The kind of twenty-two-year-old that enters a party and turns the other women to furniture. Mark would add, she’s a handful. Nevertheless, Lexi was all he ever wanted, or ever could want.

As he focused on her face, he saw the corner of her mouth twitch ever-so-slightly. For a moment, he thought she might smile, but then her lips settled into the half pout that had been her resting expression since grade school. He ached to kiss her, but this wasn’t the time.

Most nights, Lexi wore one of Mark’s old shirts to bed, over a pair of panties. But on this night, she was nude, at least from the waist up. It was cool in the room, and her nipples were taut, and Mark was surprised she hadn’t pulled the covers up to her chin. He wondered if this decision had been influenced by the man sleeping beside her whose arm was splayed across her abdomen.

***

Pointing his .357 Magnum four inches from his wife’s left eye, Mark cocked the hammer. One quick shot, then one into her lover’s skull should suffice, but he had six rounds in the chamber, should he need them all. Living in the county far from the nearest neighbor had its perks. On a stormy night like this, he could pull the trigger six times, and no one would hear.

***

Mark had been in Boston for the past two days and was scheduled to return tomorrow afternoon, but his news was so incredible he couldn’t wait to share it with Lexi in person. Consequently, he moved mountains to rearrange his schedule so he could return home nine hours early, only to find a black F150 in their driveway at five a.m. Fearing the worst, he entered the house quietly, retrieved his gun from the drawer in his office, and here the two lovers were. Mark understood the dynamic as well as anyone: that inherent to every relationship an imbalance of power exists, wherein the more you love someone, the more power you give them to hurt you without consequence. It was no secret in the small town of Franklin, Indiana that Mark loved his wife more than she loved him.

If the man by Lexi’s side had so much as stirred, Mark would have shot him on the spot. Whoever he was, it was clear from the empty wine bottle in the kitchen, and the wine glasses by the sink, and the rolled-up dollar bills and coke residue on the countertop, that he had spent hours partying with Mark’s wife, in Mark’s kitchen, in Mark’s house, before taking her to Mark’s bedroom, and fucking her in Mark’s bed. This man, this total stranger, had seen the most intimate parts of Lexi’s body. Had touched, fondled, and tasted her. Had been inside her, which made him part of a club that should have been exclusive to Mark, but sadly included at least two other local men Mark knew about. What gave Lexi the right to give herself to random strangers? What happened to the promises she made on their wedding day?

For Mark, today had been a one-in-a-billion life-changing day. He couldn’t wait to share the good news with Lexi. Instead, he came home to this soul crushing betrayal.

The man in their bed was on his side, facing her. Studying his profile, Mark supposed he could be considered handsome, but certainly not movie-star handsome. Had he been movie-star handsome, this would have been easier to understand.

Though pissed, Mark couldn’t blame the guy. If Lexi likes you, wants you, needs you, it’s a done deal. Mark would have preferred to shoot him first, so Lexi would have a brief moment of terror realizing her own execution was imminent.

But Lexi’s quick on her feet. Mark knew she’d find a way to diffuse his anger and worm her way back into his heart. After all, it was Lexi’s behavior he despised, not her. For that reason, he had to kill her first and take whatever enjoyment he could from watching her lover’s reaction.

And so, it was time. As Mark’s index finger moved toward the trigger, his left hand moved to support the butt of the gun, to steady the recoil. As he began squeezing the trigger, Lexi said, Put the gun down, Mark. It’s not what you think.

Surprisingly, she spoke those words with her eyes closed. Now that they were open, Mark turned the gun toward her lover.

Don’t bother, Lexi said. He’s already dead.

It was an insane comment to make. Had he heard her correctly?

What do you mean, he’s dead?

Lexi sat up and stretched as if having not a care in the world. I killed him, she said.

When?

Last night.

Her words hung in the air like fog on a pond. Mark circled the bed, pushed on the man’s back, and got no response. Touching his finger to the man’s neck, Mark was unable to locate a pulse.

"You’re telling me you killed him?"

Yes.

"You did."

That’s correct.

Why?

He was rude to me.

In what way?

Trust me, you don’t want to know. Bottom line, he was rude, I didn’t like it, so I strangled him in his sleep with one of your belts. Check his neck, you’ll see the marks.

Mark stared at the woman he’d loved since junior high.

When did this happen, exactly?

I don’t know. Sometime, last night. Eleven-thirty? Twelve? Something like that.

It’s five a.m.!

So?

That means he’s been dead for at least five hours!

Thanks, Captain Obvious. What’s your point?

"My point is why the fuck are you sleeping next to a corpse?"

Lexi frowned. You of all people should know how much I hate sleeping alone.

***

Mark closed his eyes, shook his head, forced himself to concentrate. Who is he?

I’ve gotta pee.

He followed her to the bathroom. "Who is he, Lexi?"

Does it really matter?

Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does.

Gordon Kitteridge. May I finish peeing in private now?

No. Where’s he from? Where’d you meet him? How long have you known him?

"Jesus, Mark! Can we do this after we dump the body? If you had any idea how much coke I did last night, you’d give it a rest. I’ve got a killer headache."

I’d say you nailed that description.

Hilarious. Under the counter.

What is?

The toilet paper.

He retrieved a roll and handed it to her. Then said, You want to talk later? Fine. But at least tell me why you fucked him.

"What? Omigod, you can’t be serious! You think I fucked him?"

Yes. In fact, I know you did.

She sighs. Fine. I fucked him. Happy?

"Do I look happy? What about our wedding vows, Lexi?"

"Seriously, Mark? I could ask you the same thing."

I’ve never cheated on you!

"I’m talking about for better or worse. You pledged that, Mark. You looked into my eyes in front of God and family and said, ‘For better or worse.’ No one forced you to make that promise."

You fucked and murdered a man in our home. What could possibly be worse?

How about sneaking into my bedroom and pointing a loaded gun at my face? Were you really gonna kill me?

I was pretty damn close.

Thanks for being honest. What you almost did is worse than what I actually did, but I’m not gonna dwell on it, so I’d appreciate you showing me the same courtesy. How about you stop being so critical and start helping me clean this shit up?

What about his truck?

What are you talking about?

The F150 in the driveway.

"That’s mine."

Since when?

I bought it yesterday.

How?

I charged it to our credit card.

Are you kidding me right now? How much was it?

"Relax, Mark. It may look brand new, but it’s five years old. I got a crazy good deal."

How much, Lexi?

Eight thousand, and worth every penny.

"We don’t have eight thousand dollars!"

"Of course, we do, Mark! Otherwise, the bank would have declined the charge. And anyway, it’s not like I went out and bought my dream bus."

Dream bus?

I’ve always wanted to drive tourists to see celebrity homes.

Since when?

Since forever. How can you not know that?

"How can you not know there are no celebrities in Franklin, Indiana?"

Not yet. But who knows what the future will bring? When I get the first celebrity bus in southern Indiana, I’ll corner the market.

I’ve always known you were crazy. Now I see you’re insane, as well.

Lexi frowned. You’re just full of compliments today, aren’t you! Why are you even here? You weren’t supposed to be home till this afternoon.

I had good news I wanted to share.

Well by all means, share it now. I could use some good news after nearly getting murdered by my husband.

I won the lottery.

Tell me for real.

I won the fucking lottery.

After all this you’re really not gonna tell me?

I just did. I won the lottery, Lexi.

You swear to God?

Yeah.

Which one?

Powerball.

How much did it pay?

Cash option’s twenty-eight mill, give or take.

"You fucking bastard! You won twenty-eight million and you’re bitching at me for buying a five-year-old truck?"

I’m bitching because you knew we were about to lose our house and you still went out and charged eight thousand dollars for a truck we didn’t need.

"Oh, really? Without that truck, how could we possibly haul Gordon to his final resting place? Why are you looking at me like that! I don’t like it."

Did he cum inside you?

That’s disgusting.

I agree. Did he?

I don’t know, Mark. What difference does it make? I’m on the pill.

Did he cum inside you, yes or no?

I honestly don’t know.

What’s your best guess?

"Maybe. Probably. I mean, I didn’t tell him not to."

How nice. Thank you for that.

Stop being an asshole.

How could you let him do that?

Can we talk about something else?

No. Why’d you let him do that inside you?

I don’t know, Mark, we were having sex and that’s what guys do. They cum. You swear to God you won the Powerball?

Fuck you, Lexi.

When do we get the money?

Next week.

Does that mean I can finally buy my celebrity bus?

"What is wrong with you?"

Hey, Mark?

Yeah?

You did it, honey. We were going down the toilet and you saved us. I’m proud of you.

Thanks.

Now, apologize.

For what?

You’re the most tolerant man in the world, but you yelled at me for buying a truck.

So?

"Did I yell at you for buying a lottery ticket?"

"No. But that was two dollars, not eight thousand. And did I mention I won the fucking Powerball?"

"I agree it worked out. But will you agree it was irresponsible, considering we couldn’t even pay the mortgage?"

Yeah. Whatever.

She flashed her best smile. You know what I want to do more than anything in the world right now?

Haul your dead lover’s body to the woods?

Not yet. First, I want to kiss you like we haven’t kissed since high school. May I?

That depends. Did you blow him?

Yeah.

Then, brush your teeth first.

***

While Lexi got dressed, Mark changed into work clothes. Together, they wiped every surface in the house, placed all the evidence in trash bags, and put it in Lexi’s truck. Then they wrapped Gordon in a canvass tarp and got him into the back of the truck. After grabbing a pick and shovel from the garage they drove till they found a suitable place to bury Gordon’s body, knowing full well that one, this secret would bond them forever, and two, they’d be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.

2.

SAME DAY, TWELVE HOURS LATER…

Jake & Tiffany

Cincinnati, Ohio

YOU’RE TIFFANY?

I am. She offered a shy smile. Nice to meet you, Jake.

Same. Please come in.

She entered his hotel room, sat on the bed, and gestured at the four empty mini’s by the ice bucket. Looks like you started without me. Tough day?

The worst. Better now, that you’re here. Can I ask how old you are?

Almost twenty.

But still nineteen.

Yes, Sir.

Young and beautiful!

That’s sweet. Thank you.

No, I mean it. I had no idea what to expect. I’ve never hired a, you know…

An escort?

Yeah.

Should I ask what happened today? Tiffany said. Or would you rather put it behind you?

Actually, I’m a cop, and—

Tiffany jumped to her feet.

Jake waved his arms. No, no! Please! It’s not like that. I’m off duty.

I can’t afford to get arrested.

At the moment I’m on paid leave, which makes me a private citizen. When she hesitated, he said, Please. You can stay dressed if you want. I was just…today’s been awful. I don’t want to be alone.

With great trepidation, Tiffany reclaimed her seat. What happened?

Early this morning, maybe you saw it on TV. Guy robbed a convenience store. We were a block away when the call came in. He saw us first, fired two rounds into our windshield, killed my partner, Alex.

Omigod!

We crashed into the store, but I managed to get out.

Jesus! Are you okay?

Yeah, just bumps and bruises. The perp should’ve hauled ass, but he liked his odds to put me down. Unfortunately for him, he missed, and I put two HST’s in his heart, dead center. Remember that part, it’s important to the story. Are you familiar with HST ammo?

Tiffany shook her head.

Old-style hollow points used to get caught up in clothing, but these pass right through and penetrate 12 to 18 inches before expanding to twice their diameter.

I’m not sure what that means.

It means the perp died before hitting the ground. Later, I learned he’s Walter Heffler. You’ve got no reason to know him, but two years ago my brother was killed by a drunk driver.

Omigod! Was it Heffler?

No, but my brother was an organ donor and Heffler’s the guy that got his heart. Which means I basically killed my brother today.

"Jesus!"

Like I said, bad day.

Tiffany’s phone rang. I’m so sorry, it’s the agency. I need to take it.

Jake nodded.

Tiffany entered the bathroom so she could talk privately. When she came out, she said, I’m afraid your day just got worse.

What do you mean?

Your credit card was declined.

How’s that possible? They accepted it when I booked you.

I know. But it’s been reported as lost or stolen.

Just now?

Yeah.

"My wife must have seen the charge. Son of a bitch!"

Wanna try a different card?

They’re maxed out.

We take cash.

Good to know. How much was it?

Eight hundred.

He frowns. "Seriously?"

Her face went red. You don’t think I’m worth eight hundred?

"Of course, you are! You’re worth twice that much! It’s just…I’m a little short on cash."

How much do you have?

Maybe fifty.

Sorry, Jake. I feel terrible leaving you after such a shitty day, but I’m on the clock. I can’t stay for fifty. She slung her purse over her shoulder and started to leave.

Jake said, Can I see your tits for fifty?

Sorry.

Bra?

She shook her head. I can’t. Catching the disappointment in his eyes, she relented. Hugs are free. She approached him, gave him a sincere hug.

He said, How about a kiss? Fifty bucks for a tongue kiss: what do you say?

She sighed. Save your money, Jake, maybe have another drink.

As Tiffany approached the door, she heard the sound a gun makes when a bullet’s racked into the chamber. She turned to see Jake pointing what appeared to be a Glock 19 at the center of her upper torso.

***

Fighting to remain calm, Tiffany said, That’s a cop’s gun.

Jake nodded.

"But you’re not a cop, are you."

Sadly, no.

The story you told me about shooting your brother’s heart. Was that a lie, too?

"Yes and no. The story’s true, it just didn’t happen today. Or, to me."

Is your name really Jake?

"No. But you can’t fault me for that unless Tiffany’s your real name. Is it?"

No. She paused. So, what happens now?

Do everything I say, you can still come out of this alive.

"You can’t shoot me in a hotel room with that gun."

I disagree.

I’ve got a similar Glock at home, so I know how loud it shoots. You’ll never get away.

You think I give a shit?

She looked into his eyes. Things can’t be so bad you’d welcome 30 years in prison.

Instead of answering, he removed a pair of scissors from the desk drawer, gripped them in his fist, and told her to lie face down on the bed. When she hesitated, he said something that instantly changed the dynamic between them: "I won’t ask you again, Sarah Lawrence."

Hearing her name in his mouth removed every trace of confidence she had, and reduced her to a shivering, terrified mess. Tiffany had been brave when he produced the gun, but Sarah was the one on the bed, whispering, Please, Mister, I’ll do anything you say. Just, please don’t hurt me. I have a child at home. An infant.

Oh, really?

Yes, Sir.

"Who the fuck tells you girls to say that? Is it an automatic lie you tell to get sympathy from violent men? When you hotbox bitches are in danger, first thing you say is, ‘I’ve got a kid at home.’ Well, Sarah, I think maybe you don’t have a kid at home, or anywhere else, since I’ve actually been in your home and found no trace of another person living there, let alone an infant. But nice try. I’ve been following you for weeks, and again, no child, but I can’t wait to taste you, so I’m going to let it slide this time. You know the flick Forgetting Sarah Marshall? You and the actress that played her could be sisters, except you’d be the cute one. Great flick. I love when the dork says, ‘Did you ever listen to my CD?’ and Russell Brand says, ‘I was going to, but then I just decided to continue living my life instead.’ Funny stuff. Now close your eyes and pretend you’re dead.

Excuse me?

"No matter what happens, do not open your eyes, move a muscle, or make the slightest sound. If you’re a convincing corpse, you get to live. If not, you’ll become a corpse. Can I give you a hint?"

Yes, please.

It’s gonna be harder than it sounds.

I believe you.

Are your eyes closed?

Yes.

Good. If I turn you over, keep them closed. Understand?

"Yes. Can I ask what you’re planning to do to