Victoria

by Laura Marie Henion

  Steven took her hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing them softly, pulling her back against his chest. The scars were at eye level as she laid her face against them. “Later, Tory.... Please."

  Suddenly, so scared, she began to shake.

  He embraced her and held her tight. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his waist, their love for one another expressed and shared in a hug. She cried and held him. Her tears wet his chest.

  "It's okay, baby. I made it back to you. I never stopped fighting."

  She kissed his neck, his shoulder, whatever her lips could reach and touch.

  He rubbed her body with his hands as she undid the button and zipper to his jeans. He removed them, then removed the light pink undergarments from her body and slowly brought her down onto the bed.

  "You're so amazing, so beautiful. I never should have left you. Forgive me?"

  "I love you, Steven. Make love to me, now. I need you so badly; I need for us to be one."

  Steven kissed her softly on the lips, then down her throat and to her chest where he paused a moment as his mouth captured her breast. From there, he feasted on each silky mound until she was numb. Pressing her hips firmly against Stevens, pleading for him to be inside of her, she shook at his next move.

  Running his hands over her thigh, between her legs, she squirmed and panted in response to the contact. It had been so long, too long for them to stay apart. He continued methodically arousing her. Victoria moaned softly, showing him she was more than ready.

  Lifting his hips then lowering his body, he entered her while simultaneously kissing her lips.

  They made love to one another. Victoria wrapped her arms around Steven's neck and with every thrust, their affection and love grew stronger, deeper as they penetrated each other's hearts.

  She wanted to stay in his arms forever. Right now, only this moment mattered, and she would treasure it for the rest of her life.

  * * * *

  The killer drove to his home and reversed his car into the detached garage. He pressed the button for the automatic doors and they closed.

  His adrenaline pumped. He could feel the rush, the anxiety of knowing at any moment, someone could catch him. He thrived on the rush.

  The killer walked around to the back of the car and opened the trunk.

  He pulled an unconscious Ronnie Chappa from the vehicle.

  It was hot out tonight and the hotter temperatures inside the trunk had nearly suffocated Ronnie.

  The killer found this amusing as he prepared the body for his ritual. The look of relief on Ronnie's face as he breathed the fresh air deeply into his lungs quickly replaced with pure fear.

  The killer tied Ronnie down, and Ronnie tried to fight but lost the battle.

  The killer laughed as he heard the familiar gurgling sound. First, it was loud, a deep choking sound, then lower and lower until finally ... silence. He loved to watch his victims suffer and cling to any possible hope of saving. He didn't want to hear their worthless, meaningless pleas. No way! It deeply thrilled him to watch their bodies shake, their legs kick and struggle to be free. The dirt became his signature. It was a horrible way to die. He laughed again.

  He wiped the dirt off his shoes and poured one more cupful of dirt inside Ronnie Chappa's mouth. The brown and black substance poured from the sides, overflowing onto the table—the killer's worktable, inside his own home. He used the dirt from his home garden to fill the lungs and insides of his latest victim. He looked at Ronnie Chappa as if owning him, every part of him, especially his soul.

  The kid got stupid and thought more about making money, getting ahead the easy way, instead of earning his shield. Chappa used his badge to get whatever he could free of any cost, and a lot of the other cops knew that. He wasn't the only one and the police department wasn't the only corrupt organization in this town.

  The killer prepared the body for its final resting place. He had the perfect location in mind and quickly got the body back into the trunk of the car.

  It was the middle of the night. The killer's adrenaline flowed, and he easily removed the body from his vehicle, dragging it through the memorial garden.

  Not a patrol car in sight, the town was dead at this hour. There'd be no risk of catching him.

  There, in the center, a large statue of a uniformed officer stood. The town was so proud of their little police department

  The community supported them and earlier in the day, rallied together to remember a fallen officer. How quickly the media turned on the Mardullo family. How stupid the Mardullo family was for not seeing it was a set up.

  Collins was responsible for the mess, and Danny Mardullo's daughter was right in the middle. Collins was a fool and a greedy little bastard who would soon get his. The killer still needed him alive. He wanted to pin the murders on him and everything was right on schedule. The only change was the Mardullo woman.

  He enjoyed watching her. She piqued his interest, which was difficult to do. She pretended to like Collins and he wondered why. She could wind up helping him pin the murders on Collins. Especially, if she already thought he was involved but how could she?

  He wondered about that as he positioned the body just right. He hoped a civilian would be the first to find Chappa's body—what front-page news that would make!

  * * * *

  "It's been too long, sweetheart ... way too long,” Steven whispered to Victoria. He held her in his arms, their legs entwined as Victoria laid her head against his chest.

  The tears flowed from her eyes. She couldn't stop crying and wouldn't let go of him.

  Steven sat up then moved onto his side to wipe away Victoria's tears. She smiled at him, took his hand, and gently kissed each of his fingers.

  He smiled softly. She could see the tears in his eyes, the emotion he held back. He was her man, her Marine, and she had never stopped loving him.

  "Everything is going to be fine, honey. I promise you. I'll never leave you again,” He pulled her leg in-between his and they embraced.

  "There's so much going on, Steven. There's so much to tell you."

  "I want you to tell me everything that's going on, but first, I need to know something.” He softly caressed her cheek, causing her to lock gazes with him.

  "How serious are you about Bret Collins?” His voice tinged with anger and jealousy.

  "I'm not serious at all. You heard the conversation I was having earlier on the phone. I've been working with the County DA, an investigator, and the FBI. They think Bret may have played a role in my father's murder."

  Steven sat up straighter, as he asked questions and his concern grew for Victoria's safety. She told him all about the restaurant in New Jersey and the corruption in the police department.

  "How long do you have to play this part? What if he hurts you? Then what? You can't keep doing this, Victoria."

  "I have to, Steven. My family needs to know who killed my father and why. I need to know. I want to lay it all to rest. Give my mom peace of mind and prove to everyone that he wasn't an adulterer. The information is a scam. Someone's trying to cover their tracks and I'm close to finding out whom."

  "Well, you're not alone in this anymore. I won't let you."

  "Steven, you don't have a say in this. We can't take the chance that Bret finds out or the killer stays unidentified. He's out there and we're close. I can feel it."

  "We'll have to discuss it more. We'll come to some kind of agreement. You're going to have to tell Peter and your Uncle Patrick at least."

  "No, Steven, I can't do that. They'll never allow me to continue to work undercover. So far, Bret has given up the names of ten other people involved with the corruption. They'll blow it."

  "You're going to blow it if you keep on this façade with them. They know something is going on. Your Uncle Patrick and Peter have been contemplating doing their own surveillance on you."

  "What? They wouldn't dare!” Victoria sat up in the bed, pulling the sheets against her bare chest to cover herself.<
br />
  Steven took her hand. “They love you, honey. So do I and look what I did."

  She turned away a moment before glancing back at him.

  "Yeah, you were spying on me, broke into my house, and seduced me into bed."

  "Whoa there, you didn't put up much of a fight, and I believe you seduced me."

  Steven pulled her against him, and Victoria kissed his chest, loving the fact her body now smelled like his cologne.

  "Tell me what happened, Steven.” She looked at the scars on his chest.

  "It can wait a bit longer. Right now, only your safety is what matters."

  "Steven, come on and tell me what happened, then we'll discuss everything else. I want to know ... please tell me?"

  Steven kissed Victoria's forehead, then moved some pillows around to get comfortable against the headboard.

  "One of the missions didn't go quite as planned. A few of us found ourselves caught in an area filled with insurgents. I don't know why they didn't just kill me too. There were five of us, and we were prisoners of war for the better part of the year."

  "Oh, my God, Steven. How did you survive?” She hugged his chest then looked back up at him to listen.

  Steven explained a little bit about living in a dirt cell, being knocked around, and feeling as if he would go insane. She had a feeling there was more to his story and that worse things took place, but he wouldn't tell her about them

  "I don't want to explain everything to you, Tory, the details are gory. There was a secret mission to rescue us and it was nearly cancelled once word was out that there was only one surviving Marine left."

  "You were the only one who made it? What happened to the others?"

  "They were killed. Executed, beaten to death during questioning. The enemy didn't prevail, though, the U.S. Marine Corps did. As they invaded the hidden base, I made my move, taking a few of the bad guys out, but not before taking bullets to the chest a few times. I'll never forget the camouflaged men that grabbed me under the arms and carried me to safety. Next thing I remember is waking up in the military hospital."

  Victoria hugged him again as he held her, kissing her forehead, squeezing her tightly.

  "It was a bad time for me, honey. The doctors didn't think I would make it, considering what physical and mental torture I had already gone through. I was in and out of consciousness, lost a lot of blood, and nearly gave up hope until a good friend of mine kept showing me your picture. Every time I opened my eyes, someone was showing me your picture.” He caressed her hair and smiled down at her.

  "My friends, the nurses, even the doctor. You kept me alive out there, Tory. Thinking of this moment, making love to you, holding you, being with you again is what helped me to survive. I never stopped loving you."

  Victoria lay atop him, wrapping her arms around his neck as they deeply kissed, holding one another with tears in their eyes. They made love through the night and neither of them felt alone anymore.

  * * * *

  Victoria awoke from a sound sleep at four forty in the morning. Steven was facing her, sleeping peacefully. She stared at the three scars. She felt guilty for every mean thought or comment she ever made against him. Here she was, sitting safely at home, working on her career, surrounded by friends and family, while her lover, her best friend, struggled to survive, God only knows what, in some secret terrorist headquarters, in the middle of the desert.

  What did they do to him? Victoria gently touched his head. She could see multiple, small, long scars on his scalp. The crew cut hairstyle showed everything. He was tough, so muscular from head to toe. Even the structure of his face was strong.

  Watching him, Victoria recalled that when she had seen him at her father's memorial service, he was like ice, including his eyes. A defense mechanism, no doubt in her mind, probably, one of many methods that helped him survive.

  Even through the speeches, the dedications from those who shared their memories of Danny Mardullo, Steven maintained that chiseled look of bravery. The soldier that could not fail or show any sign of weakness, yet the ceremony was his first chance to mourn her father.

  Trying to make her role convincing, she couldn't help but think about Steven, and the fact the memorial service was more like the funeral he missed attending.

  Danny Mardullo loved Steven, like a son and it made Victoria love both men even more. Her father, whom she was so close to, admired Steven, even gave him his blessing in advance. Victoria smiled, thinking about how her father had been casually sitting on the porch at their house discussing the police department and then family. Steven confided in her later that her father had given his blessing in advance, for when Steven proposed to Victoria. The time was nearing anyway. Steven and Victoria had spoken about it, planned on waiting another year while she advanced in her career and took the promotion. Then, September 11 happened, and everything changed. Steven, the man she wanted to marry, made the decision to serve his country first.

  Recalling how scared she was for his safety, the way she pleaded for him to stay with her, to protect his country right here on U.S. soil as a SWAT team officer, landed on deaf ears.

  "I can't, Tory. I'm a Marine, and it's my duty to protect this country."

  The tears stung her eyes.

  The sight of him in his full dress uniform at the memorial filled her with pride, the way he composed himself through the ceremony when she was certain he hurt inside.

  He hadn't fooled her, though. She knew him so well, and she saw the little vein above his right eyebrow pulsating ever so slightly. Of course, she had to turn away immediately when he caught her staring at him. So did Bret, she recalled, as he had taken her by the arm and gently kissed her cheek.

  Thank God, Steven loved her so much. He watched her, following her, knowing she still loved him and that something was wrong. How could she continue to let Bret touch her, kiss her? How much longer would she have to pretend not to care for Steven?

  Scanning his body, mesmerized by her own body's instant attraction and need, she wondered how she survived all this time without him. She remembered the military tattoo that stood out over the bulging muscle on his arm. The colors of the flag were bold and bright along with the special operations symbol and the letters U.S.A. Then she saw the next line of letters and her heart jumped, her eyes filled with tears as she read the name—Victoria. She traced her finger along each letter. Stomach muscles tightened, her heart felt as if it were soaring across the sky as she caught her breath.

  "You see how much I love you? I branded myself for you.” The sound of Steven's voice startled her as she jumped a little at him catching her deep in thought and she smiled at him.

  He reached over, touching her neck, and gently pulling her face toward his to kiss her.

  Their lips touched, and once again, her heart leaped as she snuggled her body closer, feeling somewhat intoxicated from his kiss. Then the negative thoughts collided with the happy emotions.

  She couldn't look into his eyes. The guilty feeling sat on her chest. How could she have lost faith in him? How could she have forgotten how wonderful Steven really was?

  "What's the matter, baby? You don't like it?” He kissed her nose, then her eyes, gently forcing her to look at him as he spoke to her. “Tell me what you're thinking."

  She stayed silent a moment. The words were all scrambled. She loved him so much.

  "I'm so sorry, Steven. I thought you didn't care anymore, that you chose the Corp over me. I was so wrong, so caught up in missing you, being worried about you, then losing my dad. I lost it, Steven, it's no excuse, but I hope you can forgive me."

  "Don't cry, honey. I understand, truly I do. That's why I followed you, didn't give up on what we have. I'm sorry I wasn't here for you when your father died."

  "Was murdered!” she corrected him and it became more and more obvious how much Victoria had needed him.

  "It must have been terrible.” He held her against him.

  "It was, Steven, but I don't want to discuss this. T
he sun is starting to rise. You need to go. I can't take the chance that someone might see you here. Catch us together."

  "I don't want to leave you. I don't want you doing this. How do you know Bret isn't the killer?"

  "I don't, Steven, but Investigator Warren doesn't feel that he is. We're close and I need to finish what I started.” She moved to the edge of the bed.

  "What if they're wrong? What if they're putting you in danger?” Steven touched her shoulder.

  "It's a chance I'm willing to take. I need to find my father's killer. I won't rest until he's behind bars, as well as those who are involved. Right now, at the magazine, I'm working on a story about police corruption. It's ironic really, considering that's exactly what I'm in the middle of, both political and police corruption, money laundering, murder. I've received so much information, have built up so much evidence, and at the same time, I'm right in the middle. Information is swarming in from all over and not just in our little town of River Point. I'm onto something huge and this is all going to affect my personal and professional life."

  "I'm worried about you, Tory. You jump into everything full throttle and I can't help but be wary about both the FBI and the DA's office. Would you mind if I used some of my pull to find out more about Colt and Warren?"

  "I don't want you involved, Steven. You could destroy everything I've been working on. I received a message yesterday from some woman that claims to have information on the relationship between my father and Linda Delaney. I'm going to call her today to set up a meeting."

  "You let me know where and when. You can't go acting like some detective, Tory. There's special training involved with such a position and I don't think you can handle it."

  "Thanks for your vote of confidence, Steven. Now that I know how weak and incapable you think I am; we can end this conversation right here."

  Steven stopped her from getting off the bed.

  "No, we won't. I'm sorry if it sounded that way. Look at you, though. You're petite, feminine, and the least aggressive person I know, baby. I'm not insulting you I'm complimenting you. You're a lady."