“Hey, you…”
“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you.”
She opened her eyes and smiled such a beautiful, sleep-filled smile at his, his stomach twisted with the ferocity of his love. “You can always wake me. Can’t you sleep?”
“Nah-uh.”
She kissed his mouth. “I’ll help you…” and she moved down his body. He sucked in a deep breath as her lips parted over the crown of his cock and her soft, wet mouth enveloped him. She ran her fingernails lightly over his scrotum, teasing the sensitive flesh as she licked and sucked and traced the veins of his cock with her tongue. It pulsed and swelled under her touch and Isaac shivered and vibrated with pleasure, lost in the sensations in his body. He tried to pull her up the bed, wanted to plunge into that sweet, sweet cunt of hers but she shook her head. “Come in my mouth, Isaac, I want to taste you.”
His cock trembled at her words, grew almost painfully rigid and he arched violently as she came, hot jets of semen pumping into her willing mouth. When he was spent, she straddled him, tracing the tip of his semi-hard cock up and down her slick sex.
“You’re so wet,” he said, admiring her breasts as she sat astride him. He molded them in his hands, felt the weight of each one in his hands. “Anyone else tell you that your tits are perfect?”
Sarah grinned and slowly impaled herself on his cock, moaning softly as he filled her. “As long as you think so…”
He stroked her belly with his fingertip. “I love your belly too, so soft, I kinda want to fuck your bellybutton, it’s so deep.” He dipped his thumb into it and she shivered. “You like that?”
She nodded, breathless now as she rode him, her hips rotating to thrust hard, take him deep inside of her. With his free hand, he swirled his thumb onto her clit, feeling it pulsing, and swelling underneath the pad of his thumb. Finger-fucking her navel, he gazed up at the beautiful woman above him and knew if he died here, in this moment, it would be okay as long as he was with Sarah…
Isaac didn’t know if he was dreaming or if they were still making love but Sarah was above him, fucking him, riding his cock and throwing her head back with pleasure. He smiled up at her and began to touch her, his thumb returning to fuck the deep, round hollow in the center of her belly…then she gasped and looked at him with shock. To his horror, it wasn’t his thumb that was pushing into her navel but a knife – gripped in his own hand. He could not stop it, although he was screaming, as he stabbed her over and over…Sarah, dying, stared at him, a tear dropping down her lovely face. “Why?” she whispered and then, just like that, she was gone and he lay alone, soaked in her blood…
“Jesus. H. Fucking. Christ.” He awoke cursing loudly then gulped in some air to calm himself. Sarah lay beside him, stirring, but very much alive and unharmed. Isaac rubbed his face, trying to scrub pout the images that tore through his brain. What the fuck? What a dream to have.
He stroked a hand gently down her back and she mumbled something. He smiled, wanting her to wake up now, wanting to see her vital and alive and… then his heart froze as she mumbled again. A word, a name.
Dan.
Sarah had been uncomfortable all morning. For lunch, they’d had chowder in one of the little seafood restaurants along the waterfront but Sarah hadn’t been able to keep up her end of the conversation. She’d asked Isaac if he was okay a million times; in the end, he’d almost snapped at her. She felt guilty but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Dan was watching her, even now. She kept thinking back to outside the bar last night, the feeling she had that Dan had moved past her, was playing with her. The dream she’d had didn’t help. Dan, standing in her kitchen. Telling her still loved her but she had to die so they could be together. She kept thinking of the day she’d found George. The look on his face. Terror. Her stomach roiled with unease. “Are you okay?” His voice broke through her reverie.
“Sorry, it’s just,” she coughed, embarrassed, “I had a dream last night and it’s unsettled me.”
“About what?”
She hesitated and he glanced at her. “Sarah?” A nerve twitched in his jaw.
“I can’t really remember it.”
“Try.”
The atmosphere had changed. She felt a ball of tension lodge in her chest as he stared at her, his eyes searching. “I really can’t remember.” She glanced down at her hands, trying to hide the lie. Isaac was mad at her but she didn’t know why.
“Did I do something?” She asked him now, feeling tears prickle her eyes. Isaac shook his head but stayed silent. Suddenly she couldn’t stand the tension and pushed back her chair.
“Excuse me,” she choked out and stumbled, half-blind with tears to the restroom. She locked herself in a stall and silently sobbed. It was the first time she’d seen this side of Isaac – brooding, angry. Someone knocked at the stall door. “You okay, miss?”
Sarah gulped back. “I’m fine.” Her voice sounded strangled.
“Okay.” The voice didn’t sound convinced. “Are you Sarah? Your boyfriend asked me to come see if you were okay. He asked me to tell you he’s sorry and he loves you.”
Sarah drew in a shaky breath. “Thank you, please tell him I’ll be out in a minute. Thanks again.”
The voice was warm. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Sarah calmed herself down and unlocked the stall door. At the sink, she splashed some water on her face. There was a middle-aged woman with blonde hair waiting outside the door who smiled kindly at her.
“Sorry, honey, looks like he left.”
Sarah felt a sharp jolt of pain and stepped into the main restaurant. She relaxed immediately. Isaac was seated at the table; he looked up and smiled, worry creasing his face. She turned to the woman.
“No, it’s okay, he’s there.”
The woman looked at Isaac and shook her head. “No, sweetheart… that’s not the guy who gave me the message. The guy I spoke to was blonde…”
“About six foot, blonde curly hair, blue eyes?” Sarah’s voice was flat, dead. The woman nodded, obviously worried now but Sarah simply moved away and went back to a waiting Isaac.
“I want to get out of here. Now.”
Outside, she stalked in front of him, wanting to get away from the restaurant. He gripped her arm and stopped her. What? What’s wrong?”
She whirled on him. “Oh, now you want to talk? Had enough of giving me the silent treatment?”
Isaac’s shoulder slumped and she could see the shame in his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was…I was upset about something. God… you only said it in your sleep, it could mean anything but…”
“What was it?” Her voice was hard.
“It sounds so ridiculous when I think about it now…but you said “Dan” in your sleep. It upset me, I know, I know, it’s stupid but after everything that’s happened…what? What is it?”
Sarah suddenly started to laugh but there was no humor in the sound. “Believe me. If I said Dan’s name in my sleep, it would be because I was having a nightmare. And if that woman in there is to be believed, a nightmare that’s about to come true.”
Isaac shook his head, confused. “I don’t get it.”
She told him about the message. He stared at her. “She must have got the wrong Sarah.”
Sarah’s body sagged. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” But when she looked up, she saw the same uncertainty in his eyes that she felt in her bones.
Neither of them spoke on the way home.
“Okay, I have to ask,” Isaac said finally, after a long evening where they had both stared at the television without seeing or absorbing anything that was on it. They were on his couch but, for the first time, there was space between them – physical and psychological. Isaac felt it keenly. “If Dan is back…what does it mean for us?”
Sarah looked up, startled and her eyes softened when she saw the hurt in his eyes. “Isaac… you are the love, the absolute, irrevocable love of my life. If Dan does come back. Well, that part of my life is over. As far as I’m conc
erned, you are my future.”
Isaac visibly relaxed. “That’s all I needed to hear. God,” he lay down and put his head in her lap. She smiled down at him, smoothing his short hair with her hand. “What a wild ride we’ve had.”
Sarah grinned. “Because your life was so boring before.” She looked pointedly around the apartment; high ceilings, perfectly decorated, priceless art on the walls. Isaac laughed and sat up.
“They’re just things.” He stroked her cheek. “This is what’s real. I’m not saying I’m not a lucky s.o.b. because clearly, I am.”
“Well, you worked hard for it, and your talent is in being a huge nerd boy. Geekdom is very lucrative,” Sarah was grinning at him. “Everything I’m good at isn’t unless you get very lucky. Not that I’m complaining. You’re right, things are just things.”
“Hey now, come on, you have your own business, that’s a big thing.” He grinned at her.
Sarah rolled her eyes. “What I’m saying is, I may never be on an equal financial footing with you but that kind of thing doesn’t matter to me if it doesn’t to you. I don’t want diamonds and pearls and fur coats – not that I’d wear them. All I want from you is your time. I can match you on that.”
Isaac nodded thoughtfully. “I get it. Can I ask one favor?”
“Go for it.”
Isaac gestured around the room. “Look, I can’t pretend I’m not disgustingly rich but I hate flaunting it. You know me by now, I’d still do the same job if it paid peanuts. But let’s be real: I do have a lot of money and just occasionally I’d like to spoil you… no, listen –,” he said hurriedly, seeing the doubtful expression on her face. “I don’t mean with material things. Maybe I could spring for a luxury vacation, maybe I could replace your truck when it finally falls apart – as a present. But more, I’m thinking… our kids could go to college without worrying about debt; you could go back to school if you wanted. We could build schools, or help the community on the island.”
Sarah tangled her fingers in his hair. “Haven’t we already discussed that you being perfect is really irritating?” But she grinned. “Building schools – now that kind of spending spree I can get on board with.” She leaned over and kissed him. “Also, a sex dungeon would be nice.”
Isaac laughed loudly. “You wouldn’t need to ask me twice on that.”
“You like a bit of kink?”
He shrugged. “Who doesn’t?”
She crawled onto his lap. “Well, Mr. Quinn, I’ll try anything once and if I like it, more than once.”
He trailed his fingers across her cheeks. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“I’m counting on it.”
Hank’s Bar was full with the Sunday night football crowd. Finn and Mike sat at a corner booth. Hank, an ex-city cop and the owner of both the bar and an oversized mustache that made him look like a walrus, had offered them a free beer and busted their chops for a time before turning his attention to the game. The 49ers were getting a mauling from the Seahawks and the bar was raucous with their support. Finn and Mike stared at the screen blankly for twenty minutes until an ad break afforded them the quiet to talk.
“So,” Mike took slug of beer “What’s going on with you and Caroline?” He cleared his throat, embarrassed.
Finn grinned at Mike’s expression. “Dude, relax. That’s not the advice I wanted.”
Mike look relieved. “What then?”
“Dan Bailey. Molly says she saw him, I’m not convinced.”
“Okay. So?”
Finn shifted in his chair. “I checked him out. And came up with nothing.”
Mike waited. Finn held his hands out.
“Don’t you think that’s weird? No tickets, no medical records, nothing?”
Mike shrugged. “Man…I don’t know. Maybe he had a reason to stay under the radar. If you’ve got a gut feeling, do a little digging. Where did he come from?”
“New Orleans. So he said.”
“Well, there must be someone down there who knew him.”
Finn shrugged. Mike rolled his eyes. “Have you talked to the NOLA police department?”
“No.”
“Is that because you’re worried you might find something out – or that you’re worried you won’t?”
Finn sighed. “I honestly couldn’t tell you.”
Mike finished his soda. “Dude, just talk to somebody. Get this, whatever it is, out of your head and move on. At the end of the day, does it matter? Dan Bailey’s long gone. C’mon, bro, I hate leaving Mols alone at night, especially now.”
She had been away from the island for days and now, at last, she was back. He watched her get out of Quinn’s car and go into the Varsity, saw Molly exclaim in delight and wrap her arms around her friend.
Sarah looked beautiful, her dark hair pulled up into a messy bun at the nape of her neck, her glorious body in her usual uniform of jeans and tee. Quinn had parked the car across the street and was now walking over to the coffee house. He studied the tall man, the man who was fucking his Sarah, had that honey skin under his touch, and had her lips around his cock. He could see the attraction; Isaac Quinn was an imposing man, athletic, smart and rich beyond belief. The thought of him all over Sarah’s body made his blood heat to boiling point and he clenched his fists, trying to keep control.
He was still staring out of the window at them when Caroline arrived. Following his gaze, she made a disgusted sound.
“Christ. That dude can’t keep away from that whore, can he?”
He turned to her and the expression on his face made her blood freeze. He walked away from the window, lit a cigarette and sat down. She followed him and tried to smile.
“Did you want something, Caroline?”
Her posture became seductive. “Only what I always want from you, baby.”
His nose turned up in a sneer. “And you call Sarah a whore?”
Caroline flinched but smoothed out her expression and smiled at him. “I just want to make you happy. Baby, you want me to make you feel better?”
He shook his head and she sat down on the bed opposite him. When he had not said anything for a few minutes, she shifted uneasily.
“Look – “
He focused on her for the first time. “Caroline, if you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?”
She thought about it. “You.”
He smirked. “Apart from that.”
She thought about it and her face settled into a grim smile. “I want her gone. For good. Not just someplace else, I want her – “
“Dead.”
Caroline nodded. “In the most painful way you could imagine. Worse than George.”
She got up and walked over to the window. “I wish I had the nerve to do it myself. I should have just put a bullet in her years ago.”
He smirked. “Caroline, I doubt you would even know how to take the safety off.”
She turned to scowl at him. “There are other ways. I could have poisoned her, stuck some acid in one of her fucking cupcakes. Snuck up on her when she was swimming, drowned her.” She laughed to herself. “Is that you were going to do that day? The day you watched her swim then killed her dog?”
He smiled bleakly. “No. I just wanted to watch her.”
Caroline stared at him in disgust. “You still want her?”
He got up then and went to her. “I want her dead as much as you do, Caroline. But I want to make her life a misery first, watch her suffer. You can understand that, right? Sarah Bailey will be slaughtered, eviscerated and she will feel every moment of unimaginable agony before she succumbs.”
He got up and headed towards the bedroom. When she didn’t follow him, he turned to her. She looked at him, wary, nervous. He moved over and put his arms around her.
“Are you frightened of me, Caroline?”
She nodded with tears in her eyes.
“You have no reason to be.” He smiled and kissed her, felt her relax.
“Okay, now?”
She nodded a
nd he kissed her, sliding a hand over her belly. “And then there’s this… our child... Caroline…”
She pulled him down onto the bed with her, kissing him deeply. This was what she had always wanted, real love, a man whose mind matched her own. She had loved him since the first moment she had seen him… and yes, she had disappointed him over the years but now, no more. He would kill that bitch Sarah and then he would finally be free of the obsession.
Sarah was already missing Isaac. He’d insisted on taking her back to the island himself before returning to the city, and to work. The coffee house had been busy, so busy she hadn’t yet had a chance to talk to Molly. She’d noticed her friend was subdued and, more concerning, was the faint and fading pattern of bruising on her cheek.
She finally got a chance to corral Molly into the kitchen to take a break when Nancy, the part-time barista came to work just after four. Molly protested but Sarah, having already spoken to Nancy, threw her a grateful glance and scooted Molly out of the door before she could protest. Sarah took them around the side of the old movie theater, where they kept several benches, deck chairs, mostly for the smokers. The afternoon was cool, and there was only one man out there now, a regular, reading a book, chewing on a cheroot. He raised the book, a salute, a greeting and Sarah saw he was reading Catch-22. Sarah and Molly chatted with him for a few minutes before grabbing their own table.
Having settled, Nancy brought them hamburgers, fries and two Cokes. They sipped their sodas for a few minute in silence before Sarah nodded at her friend.
“So, you going to tell me what’s wrong with you or not? I know there’s something. I saw the bruises, Mols…what’s going on?” Please don’t be Mike, she thought to herself, please, not that.
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