by Ava Frost
“Stats,” I commanded. I wanted this over as soon as possible.
“This is Matthew Hill,” Hamilton said, “Say hello,” Matthew said nothing until Hamilton smacked him against the head.
“Hello.”
“You’re already acquainted with the lovely Chloe Lewis so let me introduce you to my boss and your executioner, Ian Blackwood.” Hamilton fanned his arms as if he was the host of a party. “Say hello,” he menaced and without prompting Matthew again said hello.
“42, widowed, deceased son, no other family. Previously worked on Wall Street before losing it all on a bad bet.” Hamilton read from a manila folder and handed it over to me. I skimmed it, not caring to see his birthday, credit score or bank account information.
“Would you like me to tell your story or would you like the honor?” Hamilton asked Matthew. I wasn’t sure if this was a trick question or genuine kindness.
Matthew sighed so deeply, I could see in him the exhaustion I had felt before I met Chloe. “I will only say this one more time. When I am finished, will you do me a favor and make it quick? I have had time to make my peace with death.” I nodded, glad I didn’t have to be the bearer of bad news. He was going to die.
“I was once in love, married and my wife made me the happiest man in the world when she conceived our son, Ashton. He was perfect in every way.” Matthew looked straight ahead, at no one in particular. It was clear this story was not for us but for himself. His eyes were brown and haunted.
“When Ashton turned 5, he began to feel tired all the time. He complained his stomach hurt and so we took him to the doctor. My wife and I were heartbroken when they told us he had cancer. I was optimistic for a cure, so we did the chemotherapy. The hair that flopped when he was jumping for joy turned to limp tufts and bald spots all over until he asked us to shave it all off. The boy in love with life looked ghost-like as if he had already left us though we could still see him breathing. After a long year of fighting, he died and something broke inside of me. My wife, for some reason, blamed me. If I had paid more attention, if I had loved him more, if I had more money for more treatments, if I, if I, if I. She was right. Maybe I could have done more. Maybe I shouldn’t have been working in between his treatments. Maybe I should have worked more. All maybes but they didn’t bring my son back. The day my wife asked for a divorce she overdose on meds and drowned in our tub. After that, I sold the house and lived for some time as a homeless man. I felt nothing. I remembered that my son had some favorite toys in the hospital and I went to get them, hoping, in some way, it would bring me back to life.”
He glanced at Chloe, “your sister was the nurse on the floor that night. She told me they don’t keep things like that on file or in storage. That since my son died six months ago it would be impossible to find what I was looking for. I didn’t want to hear that. I needed to feel something. So I snapped. Your sister was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and I became obsessed with her. After a week of stalking, I caught her after a night shift and shook her violently in the back alley. I didn’t mean to snap her neck. I put her in the dumpster because I was afraid I’d get caught. I didn’t want to be a murderer but when I felt her life leave her body, I felt something. That was all I wanted, to feel something. But the feeling went away.” He hung his head and sounded as if he were about to cry.
“After weeks of stalking, I knew you were her sister, with no surviving family members and I decided I’d kill you too. I just wanted to feel something again. I knew it was wrong and I promised I’d shoot myself in the head when I was done. I’m sorry and I know I am a terrible human being.” He said the last part looking me in the eye.
Chloe walked to him, put her hands on his shoulder so he could see into his eyes. “I forgive you.” She said and two tears, one from each eye slid down his face.
“I’m going to wait outside.” She whispered and I nodded as she closed the door behind her.
“John?” I asked and he placed the 40-caliber into my outstretched hand.
“I hope you find them in the next lifetime.” I said, then I put one into his head.
“You know what to do,” I said to all of them as I put the safety on the gun and handed it to Anthony.
“I’ll be downstairs.”
Chloe wasn’t anywhere to be found so I assumed she returned to our room. She was curled into a ball on our bed, crying. I pulled her to me and she grabbed on to me wetting the front of my shirt.
“I’m sorry sweetheart.” She nodded tamping down her sobs.
“Will you do that again?”
I thought long and hard about it. I had a body count but the exact number was hazy. “Not if you don’t want me to.” I decided she was worth it.
“Please don’t.” She was hoarse.
“Ok. I won’t. I have only done what I had to do but Chloe I promise you, you bring out the best in me. Without you, I’d have no reason to stop.” I kissed her forehead.
She sniffed and I went to get her some tissues. After blowing her nose and trying to wipe her eyes, she looked at me expectantly. Red nose, puffy eyes, and a small pout adorned the face I wanted to see every morning. I kissed her lips softly.
“Now what?” She said.
“We can either get food or get married.”
“What?” she said before giggling.
“Those are the current options, Ms. Lewis. I would very much like to start calling you Mrs. Blackwood.”
“But what about the guys?”
“What about them?”
“Won’t they wonder why we’re moving so fast?”
“They’re bears too. They know what a blessing it is to find your mate.”
“Where will we live?”
“Is here not appealing?”
“But what about when we have kids. This is just a floor. We have to get a little more space.” She was sitting up and thinking quickly, I could see her gears turning so I grabbed her face and pulled her into a heat searing kiss. When I pulled back, her eyes were closed and her face was flushed.
“Can we cross that bridge when we get there?” I whispered against her neck and she nodded.
“Good,” I said, taking off each article of clothing she’d thrown on before. “I promised more taste testing, remember? I intend to get my answer.”
She giggled and I kissed her senselessly. Naked before me, she laid on her back coming undone with just my fingers alone. Then I sank to my knees, not waiting until she came down from her first orgasm before sucking and coaxing the second one out of her. Her clit a rosebud I plucked to oblivion. Then when I was too hard to make full sentences, I stood ready to enter her.
“The results were inconclusive. I’ll have to run the bath test tomorrow.” She swatted my arm.
“So silly,” She said.
I slapped her opening, liking the wet sound it made against my dick.
“Stop teasing me.”
“I’m not,” I said, mesmerized by how swollen and pretty her pink lips looked against my swollen head. I spanked her pussy again.
“Ian,” she said, taking my attention from her open flower. “Fuck me.” Her words came out in a breath and made my dick weep in anticipation.
“Yes, dear.” I said before grabbing her hips and sliding myself completely inside her.
“Chloe?” I groaned, never slowing.
“Yes?” she was climbing that cliff again.
“Marry me,” I said in between pants, not wanting to stop and a little afraid to keep going. I didn’t want to come yet but her sweet little pussy was already milking me, letting me know how close she was to coming. “Marry me tomorrow baby. I need you. I love you and I don’t want to be without you. Say you will.”
“Yes,” She said, pinching one of her nipples and playing with her clit. “Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” She said before screaming. We both came and all the sounds together were incoherent. We were in our own space, our own eternity. There was only me and my mate, fiancée, future mother of my children and I suddenly di
dn’t hate manila folders anymore.
“I’m yours, forever” She said, pulling me to her for more.
The End
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