by Erin Noelle
I purr softly as I squeeze him around the waist. “Me too,” is all I say, hoping he understands everything I mean with those two words. Snuggling me tightly to his warm body as I begin to drift off, he kisses my closed eyelids and then my forehead, whispering, “Good night, devil woman. I love you.”
“Me too,” I whisper again.
For the first time in a long time, I feel hopeful. Things seem to be falling into place for me, and even though I’m a bit leery of how smoothly everything is going, I’m embracing my optimistically positive attitude. It’s been a few days since the night at the sex club, and the pictures have been cropped and are ready to be released. Lucca’s cousin, Stephen, is using his job at the news station to leak the photos next week. I’m nervous about bringing someone into the circle of trust, but Lucca swears to me he has full faith in him. I believe that he wouldn’t let anything happen to me, and if I was emailing them in, even from a fake account, the possibility of getting caught still remains.
Lucca comes over straight after work; I’m not sure what’s going on, but he texted earlier saying he needed to talk to me. I hope all is still good to go with the plan. He arrives just as I’m finishing up my online classes for the day. I turn off my computer and hurry to greet him at the door.
“Hey, handsome.” I welcome him with a sweet kiss.
“Now that’s what I like to come home to after a day of dealing with twenty second graders who’ve already mentally checked out for the summer,” he says, grinning widely.
“Only a few more weeks, babe. You’re almost there.”
We walk in to the kitchen and I grab us each a beer from the refrigerator before continuing on to the living room.
I sit down on the couch and wait for him to start talking, except he says nothing. I can tell his mind’s somewhere else and he’s definitely worried about something.
“So are you gonna tell me what you needed to talk to me about? Not that I mind you coming over just to hang out, but you appear to be pretty preoccupied,” I prompt him.
Sighing loudly, he says, “Matthews called me into his office today. I assumed it was about my request to stay on at the school for next year, but instead he wanted to talk about you.”
“About me?” Even as I speak the words, I can feel the bile rising up in my chest.
Running his hands through his messy hair, which I’ve now learned is his go-to move when he’s anxious about something, he groans. “He asked if I still talked to you anymore, and of course, I lied and said I don’t. Of course, I was suspicious of why he called me down only to ask me that, so I questioned him. At first, he tried to play it off, like he was simply curious, but after a little ummm… coercing,” Lucca pauses briefly and looks down at his hands, obviously leaving out some details, “he admitted that he’s been getting paid to monitor and report on your actions. He claims he doesn’t know who’s behind it, but I’m not sure I believe him.”
“I know exactly who’s behind it,” I growl as I stand up and begin to pace the room. “I can’t fucking believe this. That piece of shit is having me watched!?!?” Infuriated by the news, I grab my phone and text Leo a shortened version of the story.
Me: Sperm donor’s been paying the principal to watch me and report back.
“Who are you calling? What are you doing? Calm down and think about things before you react, Katrina,” Lucca warns me.
“I’m just letting Leo know what’s going on. They may be watching him too.”
My mind races as I wonder what all he knows. Has he had me followed at night? Does he know it was me behind the Saunders photos? If so, why didn’t he contact me or out me? I knew things were going way too perfectly; it was only a matter of time before they began to fall apart. I had even considered dropping the whole plan of revenge after this next anticipated scandal. The happiness I’ve discovered in spending time with Lucca, and the possibility of starting my very own music school vastly surpasses that of bringing random men to their knees and even the thought of retaliating against him. But now… now that I’ve found out he’s paying people to spy on me, I no longer aspire only to follow through with attempting to get him ousted from office… I want to settle the score.
Counting backwards from ten while taking deep breaths, I settle myself down a bit. I need to appear like I’m handling this news with a cool and even-tempered head. Leo knocks on the door five minutes later without even texting back. He storms in and joins Lucca in the living room. I grab three more beers, tossing each of the guys one, and plop down in the recliner with my own.
“I’m not really sure what we can do at this point,” I say calmly. “Leo, if you can keep your eyes open for anyone possibly doing surveillance here, that would be great. Interview all of the security people and door men in the building; he’s probably paying one of them too.”
I turn my attention to Lucca. “All you can do is be aware of people following you. I don’t think he’s planning on hurting me. He’s probably just making sure I don’t do anything to him or his family, but I want to make sure he isn’t trying to get to the people I lo-” I cut myself short and clear my throat, finishing with, “care about.”
They both nod in agreement, and we all sit there lost in our own thoughts, no one with much to say. Leo leaves a little bit later, claiming he’s having dinner with his mom. I tell him to give her a hug and kiss for me, and I promise I’ll visit her soon. Lucca stays a while longer, but he’s made plans to play basketball with some friends at seven. He offers to cancel and stay with me, but I really want to be alone right now. Making me promise I won’t do anything to the asshole until I consult with him first, Lucca kisses me and then leaves.
As soon as I’m sure he’s had time to make it out of my building, I pick up my phone and dial Travis’ number.
“Hey, doll. How was the club?” He always answers and just starts talking.
“It was great. I owe you big time… wait, I already paid you for that,” I say half-jokingly.
“Awesome, glad I could help. Whatcha got for me today?”
“This favor is a little bit different than my usual ones. I’ve got to keep my distance from this one, but I need information and surveillance pictures of someone. I’m pretty sure his personal life includes some non-socially acceptable behavior, but if not, I need you to create some. He won’t say no.”
“I can make anything happen for you, K,” he replies confidently. “What’s his name?”
With an evil gleam in my eyes, I answer, “Paul Matthews. He’s the principal of an elementary school in Brooklyn.”
A few days later, and I still can’t stop thinking about him. I’ve realized my life will never be okay as long as he’s lurking around. I need him dead.
Plotting out a murder is extremely difficult, especially if you hope to not get caught. I’ve pinpointed July twenty-fifth on the calendar. It’s the night of the Governor’s Summer Masquerade Ball, and it just so happens to be the ninth anniversary of my mom’s death. It’s almost as if fate has set this up for me.
Now, I have approximately a month-and-a-half to figure out how to pull it off. I’ve considered hiring someone to do it, but that would be too impersonal. I want him to know I’m cashing in on my promise from the courtroom all those years ago. Shooting him seems the easiest route, and the most fitting, but I’d have to deal with obtaining an untraceable gun, as well as finding the opportune time to pull it off. Poisoning him is another option I’m considering, but I need to do a little more research on what exactly I could use.
Meanwhile, things between Lucca and I continue to progress brilliantly. Now that he’s such a big part of my life, I’m not sure how I ever functioned without him. Not well, obviously. I’m staying the night at his place tonight, which has become our usual Friday routine, and as soon as the clock hits three o’clock, I walk out the door with my overnight bag.
Leo’s waiting to drive me over there; we’ve all become a bit paranoid of people watching or following us. Lucca’s walking up just as I j
ump out of the SUV, and after saying bye to Leo, I rush to greet him. After welcoming hugs and kisses, we disappear into his house and begin to cook dinner together.
After eating some of the best chicken cordon bleu I’ve ever had, he and I play Quelf with Stephen and Bran. Laughing late into the night, we turn into the bedroom after Lucca turns out victorious, both holding a bowl of vanilla ice cream. We settle into bed and dig into the creamy goodness I now look forward to each time I stay here.
I’m not sure where the thought comes from, but I blurt out. “What happened to Lindsay?”
“Lindsay?” He chokes on his bite, obviously not expecting me to ask about her. “What do you mean?”
“The first time we played Twenty Questions here, you told me that you dated a girl named Lindsay for two years when you first started college, but when I asked why you guys broke up, you said it was your turn to ask a question. Then I got side-tracked, and we never discussed it again. Actually, you’ve told me a lot about your childhood and your parents, but you never discuss your college years. Why is that?”
Refusing to make eye contact with me, he picks at an imaginary loose thread in the sheets. “After everything I’ve told you, there should be nothing that you can’t tell me, Lucca. For God’s sake, my dad murdered my mom; I don’t think you can scare me away!” I huff, my feelings hurt a bit.
Twisting in the bed to face me, he sets the cold bowl down, and grabs my hands. The somber look on his face warns me that the story to come is not going to be easy for him to tell. I squeeze his hands to show my support. “I’m here for you, babe. I promise, I’m not going anywhere,” I reassure him just as he had done for me.
“The summer between my sophomore and junior year at UT,” he begins the story, “Lindsay and I were at a party, and we got in an argument over her wanting to leave early. The previous few weeks she’d been really over-dramatic and grouchy; she never wanted to do anything except stay at her apartment. So I — being the asshole of a boyfriend I was — asked someone else to drive her home, because I couldn’t be bothered with leaving the good time. Little did I know or care to realize, the person I asked to drive her home had been drinking quite a bit. So to make a terribly long and heartbreaking story short, the girl lost control of her car on the drive and hit a tree. The girl was killed instantly and Lindsay was in a coma for a little over a week before she died as well.”
Understandably, he begins to cry while recalling the horrific details of the night. I wrap my arms around him and he buries his face into my chest. “Why did you never tell me about this? I’m so sorry, babe.” Rubbing his back and rocking him slightly against me, I try to soothe and console him.
Without looking up at me, he continues the story. “She was three months pregnant with our child, and I didn’t even know. I found out at the hospital. I lost her and the baby, and I was devastated. I should’ve been the one protecting her, making sure she got home safely, but instead I pawned her off on a drunk driver — who I killed as well — just so I could stay with my buddies to drink more beer.”
I understand the responsibility that he feels over his decisions and the outcome that they led to. Feeling like your actions caused someone’s death is an overwhelming weight that lives with you forever, especially if that person is someone you loved. “It’s not your fault, Lucca. You’ve got to let go of the blame.”
He pulls back from me and stares deep into my eyes, his still wet with tears. “I’ve been through just as much counseling as you have, if not more, and I’ve finally accepted that — somewhat. It doesn’t make it much easier to talk about, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to fully forgive myself. The truth is what it is.”
“Is this why you feel the need to protect me? Am I Lindsay’s replacement?” As soon as the words escape my lips, I feel guilty for the selfish questions. He’s pouring his heart out to me, finally opening up about what haunts him, and I’m asking how it pertains to me.
Before I can apologize for my self-centered thoughts, he reaches up to stroke my cheek and shakes his head. “Lindsay and I were teenagers in love, and as horrible as I feel that neither she nor the baby are here, I know in my heart she wasn’t my one. I would’ve been a man and taken care of her and our baby though, if things didn’t end up the way they did. After her, I refused to date for quite some time. Sure, I partied and fucked around with girls, but most of the time I was so drunk trying to forget everything, I’d wake up with someone and have no idea what her name was.” I cringe at his words. Despite my less than stellar past, I hate to think about him acting like a male whore and sleeping with a lot of girls, but I more than understand the escape from his reality that he was seeking.
“After that happened, I always said I’d never fall in love and get married,” he says softly, “because I knew how terribly painful it was to lose someone I knew wasn’t my soul mate, I didn’t ever want to find the one that is. The way I figured it is if I never found her, I’d never have to know how it feels to lose her. But the day I laid eyes on you, Katrina, I knew there was something different about you. I knew I needed to peel back the hard outer layers you had strategically wrapped yourself in, and find the real you. And now that I have, I know I was right- you’re my one. Everything that I thought I believed before has changed. I’ll risk losing you, if it means getting to love you, even for a little while.”
“I already told you — I’m not going anywhere. I won’t disappear on you.”
Usually, he and I cuddle quite a bit at night, at least until we fall asleep, but tonight feels different. I can’t get close enough to him; it’s almost as if I want to crawl inside his skin and blanket him in my love. Intertwining my legs with his and enveloping him in my arms, I do the best I can. I kiss him tenderly on the lips, mumbling for the first time, “I love you, Lucca Ellis.”
As promised, Stephen anonymously leaks the Lancaster photos as an exclusive story on the airwaves of NY1 a week-and-a-half after the night at Sequestered. Due to the shocking nature of them, the story takes off like wildfire and spreads throughout the New York media at a rapid pace. By lunchtime on this beautiful Tuesday in early June, the governor’s office has already fired their assistant budget director and issued statements apologizing for his actions. The governor himself schedules a press conference for the afternoon to discuss increased appropriate behavior, and to conduct training measures being put into place for his employees.
Many news outlets are beginning to question electing a beloved sports star as the governor of the great state of New York based on popularity alone instead of someone with a solid and proven political background. Governor Green only spent one term in the Unites States Congress, and during his time there, he did nothing politically noteworthy. I’m more than satisfied by the upheaval these photos have caused for the governor. Any moment of discomfort he has to endure, pleases me greatly. However, as I sit and watch the story developing on my television, I’m sure of two things…
First, my days of being Kat are over — there’s nothing about that lifestyle I desire any longer. With the help of Lucca, Leo, and Dr. Donias, I’ve matured more in the past three months than I had in the last three years combined. Sometimes in life, you just reach a moment of clarity, and all of a sudden, you can plainly see the path you’re supposed to be on, laid out right in front of you. My moment began when I smacked Lucca in the face with a door, but was fully realized the day I came clean to him about everything in my past, and he didn’t run away from me.
And second, there’s still one major roadblock that stands in the way of me traveling down my path. No amount of scandals or bad press about that man is going to alleviate this problem. He. Must. Die.
Surprisingly, it’s fairly easy to learn how to kill someone with poison online. There are several websites dedicated solely to this topic and there’s even a three minute long video on YouTube called How to Fatally Poison Someone. I’m curious about how many of the over thirty-one thousand people who’ve watched this have actually gone throug
h with it. Not that I’ll be following the narrator’s steps exactly, but I can promise you, this is one girl who will be added to the list of follow-throughs.
I’ve spent the last several weeks researching all different kinds of poisons. First, I need to choose if I want the death to be immediate or a drawn out process. My choice is instantaneous; I don’t want to take the chance he can get medical help that will save him. Second, I must determine the method of administering the poison. Since I plan to do this at the ball, I think serving it in a drink will be the easiest way. And finally, I have to find out which of these poisons I can easily and anonymously obtain. Because no one else knows of my plan, I’ve got to be extremely discrete about this entire thing, and as of this morning, I’ve narrowed my possibilities down to aconite, cyanide, and arsenic. Unfortunately, I’m forced to put my research away, as Lucca’s coming over so we can go out to lunch. The ball is about a month away, so I still have a little time to work everything out.
When Lucca texts that he’s downstairs just after twelve, I slide my feet in some flip-flops, grab my purse, and head out the door. As soon as I step foot outside, the heat slaps me in the face, and I’m thankful I threw my hair up in a ponytail instead of taking the time to fix it. Unable to locate him at first, I finally see him squatting a little ways down on the sidewalk petting a dog. He doesn’t see me at first, so I stand there and watch him with the furry, four-legged animal; there’s a look of longing on his face, but I’m not sure if it’s because he’s remembering a pet he had as a child, if it’s because he wants one now, or both. Eventually, he notices me and stands up with a big smile spreading across his face. Hurrying over to where I stand, he hugs and kisses me hello.
