The Quest of Perkins Vale

by L. B. Dunbar

  Tears rolled down her cheeks as she glanced at me. I worried I had gone too far too fast. I just didn’t want to wait another day for her. I’d already waited long enough. She gazed down at her finger, then took my father’s ring and held it up to me. With shaky hands, she held up my left hand. She kissed the ring then slowly slid it over my finger.

  “With this ring,” she began low, “I wed you, Perkins Vale, in the joy that I can spend the rest of my life discovering and loving you. Love is patient; I have waited a long time to be found by you. I didn’t know I was meant for you, but I am so happy it is you. Love is kind; I have known no one who compares to you in this manner. I will try not to be jealous, but you are a rock star.” She let out a nervous giggle and I laughed, as well. Raising her eyes from staring at the garnet ring, she looked up at me. “But you make me feel safe, and I love you. I love you, Perkins Vale. I want to be yours always. I want to show the world, with this ring, that we are one. You complete all the parts of me that I never knew I was missing. Thank you. Thank you for loving me,” she whispered.

  For the second time in her presence, there was a fog over my eyes. I blinked to clear the tears of joy that she would be my wife. I would have her for the rest of my life.

  Like any true wedding night, we made love in the slowest, sweetest manner. I took my time to kiss her and caress her, making up for all those years I searched for her. Even though, I’d had her recently, tonight would mark the beginning of a new year and the rest of our years, together.

  We stayed on for another week, but I promised her a real honeymoon if she wished to travel. She laughed as she listed all the places she’d like to go someday. I realized that when the band was put back together, I could show her the world as we toured. Another concern was making our marriage legal. I told her that if she wanted a wedding, the ceremony and the big party, we could do that. She made a funny face and asked me if I didn’t think the moonlight marriage was enough.

  “It is all I’ll ever need,” I said, kissing her as we lingered in the small bed.

  “Well, I think, it’s all I need, too,” she responded, wrinkling her eyebrows.

  “You think?” I laughed.

  “Well, shouldn’t we make it more legal? It’s real to me, but I mean, should we go to a courthouse or something. Do we need a priest?”

  I could take her to the courthouse in Lake Avalon. For a small town, it had a town hall and the justice of the peace would be inside. But if she wanted a priest I knew just the man that owed us this marriage.

  A priest and a prayer…

  [Hollister]

  When Perkins suggested Michael be the officiant to sign off on our wedding vows, I thought he was crazy. There was no way I was asking Michael. Perkins still didn’t know my connection to him. He knew Michael stalked me. He knew he was from my past, but he thought it was through the shelter services. He didn’t know that Michael had been another man to take from me.

  I continued to refuse Fr. Mike’s approval, telling Perkins that the justice of the peace in Lake Avalon had been plenty. As we drew closer to the city, a tension was rising between us, and the argument about Michael was growing. We returned to the shelter. I still had my job there, as well as all my belongings. My face was healing, but still yellowish around my nose and eye. Perkins was agitated that I wanted to return there instead of going directly to his home.

  “Ma cherie,” Marie greeted us warmly as we entered through the kitchen side door. She kissed each of my cheeks, then pulled back to look at me. “You are well,” she said, the smile growing on her face. I couldn’t prevent the small tug of a grin when I answered in the affirmative.

  She continued to stare at me, this woman who knew me well.

  “And you feel…okay?” she said looking down at my stomach. She made an exaggerated show of it, as she had argued with me to tell Perkins immediately when we left ten days ago. I didn’t want to tell him the truth, and she was upset by this decision. In the end, I obviously told him as soon as I was comfortable. As she continued to assess me, Perkins walked up behind me and slipped his large hand over my hip and across my waist.

  “She is going to be perfect,” he whispered behind my ear, and I shivered at the sensation of him so close to me. He had been tender each day as we made love in Goneman’s cottage, but I was edgy. I wanted it to be a bit more, like our days of discovery. I was worried again that he wanted the sweet, docile woman, but just because I was pregnant didn’t mean I wanted to take on that role.

  We exited the shelter after sharing dinner, and our marriage, with Marie to find Michael McMann lingering near the alley.

  “Holli,” he breathed when he saw me. I instinctively stepped back and bumped into Perkins, who was guiding me to his SUV.

  “Mike,” Perkins sighed. I worried what would come next. I willed him not to ask.

  “You’re still a priest, right? Ordained and all that?” Perkins began. I tried to cut him off with a low hiss of his name. Michael was clearly confused as he looked between the two of us.

  “I am still ordained, but not a practicing priest in the sense of saying mass,” Michael clarified slowly.

  “Seeing as you disappeared two weeks ago, I have a favor to ask,” Perkins began again.

  Michael’s face softened. He was clearly intrigued.

  “I need you to sign off on a marriage license that we were married in a church,” Perkins blurted out. The expression on Michael’s face matched the beating of my heart. This had gone too far. I didn’t want Michael signing anything that bound me to Perkins. From the look in Michael’s eyes he was definitely going to refuse.

  “You married him?” Michael spit at me.

  “Hey,” Perkins warned, his tone expressing his confusion.

  Michael reached for my hand and before I could pull it back, he gripped my left fingers hard and tugged me toward him. I stumbled and Perkins wrapped his hand around my waist again. For a moment, I imagined a tug of war about to take place, with me as the prized flag in the middle of the rope.

  “I knew you had it,” Michael said, his voice level and slow like a snake. I could almost feel his eyes dilating as he became hypnotized by the ring on my finger. His cold fingers slid down to the base of mine, and I tried to squeeze my hand into a fist in hopes of preventing him from touching it. With lightning speed, Perkins had his hand over mine and pushed Michael back.

  “What the fuck, man? Get your hands off her.”

  Michael’s eyes remained trained on my fingers.

  “I knew you had it,” he whispered in a hiss. “You had it all along, didn’t you?”

  “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “You were always such a tease,” he continued. “Looking for someone to save your soul. Looking for forgiveness for your sins.” His voice was growing and I could feel the tension of Perkins behind me.

  “That’s fucking enough,” he said, his hand still instinctively wrapping tighter around me, and now slowly walking me backward, away from Michael.

  “That ring is special, just like you, Hollister. You know that, that’s why you kept it from me. Knowing I wanted what you had to offer, you refused to give it to me.”

  I didn’t know what he was talking about. I wondered if he referred to the fact we never had sex. He would touch me and I would touch him, but we were never physically joined together. I didn’t refuse Michael, but I didn’t give in to him either.

  “What the fuck, is he talking about?” Perkins muttered, ready to throw me in the SUV at any moment. The small mumble of Perkins voice broke Michael’s concentration and he looked up at Perkins.

  “She’s giving it to you. That ring is from the Virgin, which Hollister was until she was stolen by Jordan. She would be forgiven her sin if she gave herself, and her possessions, over to the church. She gave herself to me, but not the ring.

  “She what?” Perkins growled.

  “I can explain,” I said quietly. I didn’t look up as I felt his questioning glar
e. “Perkins, please just take me home.” For the briefest of seconds, I thought he might hesitate. He might not want to take me to what he declared would be our home. He opened the passenger door with a huff and helped me step inside, but still slammed the door tightly before walking around the car. Michael continued to stare when I sensed Perkins falter. He stopped in front of the large hood then turned back toward Michael. I knew what would happen next. I also knew I wouldn’t be fast enough. The door was hardly open when I saw Michael go down. Perkins hit him square and Michael folded like a deck of cards being shuffled. He curled into himself.

  “Whatever she has, whatever she owned, whatever you think you want from her, you can’t have,” Perkins said with a steady calm that frightened me. “She is mine and I am hers. If you take from her, you take from me, and thou shall not steal. As a priest you should know that, you sick bastard. You already stole her once, but you won’t ever have her again.”

  I worried that Perkins would kick the man when he was down, but Michael was a weak man. He always had been. He did things in the dark, on the sly. His mode of action was slithering and sneaky. He did not command, like Jordan had. He had no charisma, which is why he failed as a priest; amongst other reasons, like not keeping his hands to himself.

  Perkins looked at me and without even speaking to me I knew to get back in the SUV. He slammed his own door before we sped off, leaving Michael to rot on the sidewalk. Perkins was clearly angry and it was time for my final truth.

  “He was a priest when I met him. A real one with a church and a private school,” I began. Perkins closed his eyes for the briefest of moments. He remained silent as I told him the story of my guilt and my fear that I had been the one to do wrong. How, at first, Michael would console me and I took his kindness as something more. Admitting my confusion, he told me I could atone for my sins if I showed him what I had done. When I did things to Michael, I believed his word that his touch might heal me, even when it made me feel worse.

  I felt the need to tell the whole truth, but I sensed that I had said was more than Perkins wanted to know. He already knew quite a bit about Jordan Waters. I worried again that the images he had in his head took over the love in his heart. I toyed with the ring over and over on my left finger.

  “Unlike Jordan, who believed I would be the saving grace for him, Michael believed I possessed an object that was holy and valuable. Rumored to belong to a long line of women, he thought I owned a ring. The Virgin Ring, he called it. A ring that had power to heal and forgive. A ring that possessed strength and spirituality. It could do miracles in his eyes,” I snorted.

  “I looked it up once. The Internet says it was associated with virgins, giving them fertility, wealth, and dreams come true,” I laughed without humor. “Blessed under the New Year sky, it is supposed to give happiness and health to the future. It is supposed to offer miracles and answer a prayer.”

  Perkins glanced at me, his eyes twitching between me and the road as he drove with his knuckles tight over the wheel. I thought about what I had just recited. It occurred to me that if all that was true, this ring had been blessed by us and on a day that marked a new year. If it brought miracles, Perkins would forgive me my final indiscretion and answer a prayer by giving us this baby.

  We pulled into his garage and he exited the SUV rather calmly. He helped me out of the passenger side, as if I was an invalid, instead of a pregnant woman in her first month. He hadn’t said a word as he entered his place and he stopped to stare at his drums. It was like he was torn and I saw him clench and unclench his hands.

  “I’m going to shower,” I mumbled, “you go play.”

  The final conquest…

  [Perkins]

  I didn’t know how to feel. I had just learned that Hollister, my wife, had been taken by another man. Was this one against her will? I wasn’t certain. I didn’t want to fault her, but I couldn’t forgive her either. I had waited so long to be with her. I had missed so many opportunities when she was so close, and yet outside my reach. In all reality, I blamed myself.

  When I heard the water for the shower, I began to play, but I never heard it stop. I sensed her presence before I looked up. I refused to look upward. She moved toward me and suddenly she was next to me as I continued to bang on the drums. I was in the zone, but her nearness distracted me. I was pissed more so that she had continued to hide the truth from me. Another truth.

  She pushed passed my thigh and in between my legs. I faltered, but continued to play around her. I could do this. I could keep playing without looking. I had done it many times, closing my eyes and letting the rhythm of my motions take over. She tried to hold my face, but for the first time ever, I tugged out of her grasp. I didn’t know why, but I was growing angrier by the moment. She tried again. Her delicate fingers traced over my light stubble and held firm as I tried to move my head again. Her lips came to mine but I continued to play. I was faltering, but I didn’t care. I continued to concentrate on the clash and tap of my kit behind her. She was standing between me and my drums; my greatest release for tension.

  Then it hit me.

  She was the release I needed. My left hand pushed her hip while my right continued onward. She spun slightly, and I finished my intention to turn her with the use of my thighs squeezing her hips. Sensing what I wanted, she stood between my legs then sat on my lap. She wore one of my t-shirts but she was bare underneath the material. Her warm ass cheeks melted against my hard core, which bulged at the contact of her skin on my jeans. I scooted forward, pressing into her and her hands came to my thighs to steady herself. My rhythmic playing slowed and her lower body picked up to match the pace. She moved on me as I tapped lightly.

  Finally, I dropped my sticks and gripped her hips hard. I forced her down on me and she leaned forward to spear me back with the heat between her legs. Her hands found the main drum before her to balance the momentum of my grinding against her.

  “Perkins,” her sultry voice spoke softly. “I need you.”

  She pushed down on me, and I bucked against her so hard that her hands slipped. She was pushing the drum over and I was following. With a clatter, the clash cymbals fell over and the main drum moved forward as she leaned on the tom-toms. I used my foot to spread the instrument and moved us to the floor between the kit. Hollister was on her hands and knees, as I had taken her before.

  “How many more truths will there be, Hollister?” I begged, not kissing her but nipping at her shoulder, which snuck out from the falling neckline of my t-shirt.

  “That’s all. There is nothing else to tell,” she whimpered, as I dragged myself slowly along her backside, the seam of my jeans catching on her cheeks. I hastily unzipped and maneuvered myself free, not releasing the tight hold I had on one of her hips. On my own knees behind her, I slid myself slowly through the crevice between the perfect mounds of her ass.

  “Hollister. I need you to promise me there will be no more secrets.”

  “No more secrets,” she said breathlessly, as I slid myself through the wet folds that awaited me.

  “No more half-truths. No more untruths,” I demanded, as I teased the tip of myself against her then slid between those balanced globes of her backside.

  “No more. All truth. All the time,” she breathed, as I paused at the entrance to a place I wanted to explore on her, but not tonight. Tonight I would take her how I wanted because she was mine. She was my wife. She was my treasure, and no one would steal her again.

  “Hollister,” I whispered as I dragged through her tender skin again.

  “Perkins, just fuck me,” she growled. I rammed into her, forcing her forward. I stilled worried that I’d hurt her or the baby.

  “Thank you,” she breathed softly and began to move. It was a punishing rhythm. I didn’t want her to thank me. I wanted her to love me. I wanted to wipe every dirty image from her mind. I didn’t want her to think about any of them again. Me. Only me.

  I continued to move in a rapid pace. I wasn’t teasing. I wasn�
��t stalling. This was going to be quick.

  “I love you,” she said, breathlessly. I felt her warm me with the power of her clenching around me. She grunted as she washed over me and I released deep inside her. I filled her to the hilt and held still as I pulsed into her. My vision fluttered and I saw little black dots dance before my eyes. I still clasped her hips. Sliding my hands up the side of her, I collapsed over her, finally kissing her shoulders.

  “Did I hurt you?” I whispered. “Did I hurt the baby?”

  She giggled under me, releasing a breath as she said, “No.”

  “I don’t know what came over me,” I sighed into her neck.

  “You came over me,” she joked.

  “I was so pissed off. To think…”

  “Perkins,” she interrupted me, “stop thinking. Stop looking back.”

  She rotated her head to try and make eye contact with me over her shoulder.

  “I love you, Perkins Vale. Only you. Never anyone else, and that’s the honest truth.”

  My mouth captured hers. I sucked in those words as we twisted, so she lay under me and I balanced on my elbows over her. My hand moved down her body to cover her flat stomach. Her gray eyes, which had looked at me coldly in the past, were soft silver. I loved her words, but I knew from that look that she was telling the truth.

  “You’re sure I didn’t hurt the baby?” I asked.