69 INCHES OF STEEL

by Rebecca Steinbeck

  “My dad’s a truck driver,” Serena replied. “He’s always worked hard and he’s done well for himself, and us, and at the age of sixty decided it was time to slow down a bit. As well as slowing down a bit, he decided on a fresh start in a new town, so he pinned a virtual tail on a donkey and we ended up here. He’s got a bit of work when he’s wanted it and needed it, though he hasn’t needed it very often. I think most times he just likes to work and it’s good for him anyway to get out for a day or two every now and then. It’s also good for my mom. I think he’d drive her crazy if he was home all the time.”

  Jonathon wondered if Serena needed it. He decided to find out. “Would you like to go for a walk after supper?”

  What Serena really wanted was to go for a drive in the silver BMW parked out front and also to fuck the living daylights out of the guy sitting next to her, but a walk in the cool night air would do for starters. “Why wait?”

  Jonathon smiled. He went to the kitchen and draped an arm over his mother’s shoulder as she made a fruit platter and a pot of tea. “Mom, do you mind if Serena and I go for a walk? We’ll have supper when we get back.”

  His mother smiled as she sliced the rockmelon into small pieces. “Of course not. You two enjoy yourselves.” She carried on slicing the rockmelon. Jonathon kissed her on the cheek and went back out to the lounge. After all his near misses, his mother so hoped Serena might be the one.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Serena and Jonathon walked along the side of the narrow road arm in arm. The moon was shining bright and the cool night air was beginning to chill. It was Jonathon’s kind of night. It refreshed his sense of everything good and allowed the magic inside to ignite and come to life. Ideas were flowing thick and fast and the ones he could use he would store for future reference in a two draw filing cabinet he had created in the back of his mind. The ones he couldn’t use, or didn’t want to, would fall through the holes into the nether regions of outer space for someone else to grab hold of and perhaps make better use of. Those ideas were few and far between.

  One of the ideas that did stick that night was for a short story that would involve his favorite fair, vampires. Not the Twilight stuff where the vampires sparkled like pansies in the light of the sun. Not these guys. Like the Elizabeth Bathory of his soon-to-be-published novel, these guys would kill as vampires do, and violently, but they would love there victims first. They would romance them and gain their trust. Then as they were about to make love to them they would sink their fangs into their lovers’ throats and drink their blood until they had had their fill and then they would move on to their next victim.

  “Have you ever been overseas, Jonathon?” Serena asked. She was looking up at the moon. “I’d love to go overseas.”

  Jonathon turned his thoughts back to his soon-to-be-published book about four boys and a Lady Vampire he had fashioned on the most brutal and bloodthirsty woman of all-time. She was sexy as all hell, in real life and in his story, and while she flirted outrageously with the oldest of the four boys she never made love with him, or any of the other boys for that matter. She wanted to of course, but vampires don’t do that. They didn’t need to because they were dead already and the dead don’t have sex. They only prey on the weak and vulnerable by gaining there trust then sinking their fangs into their lovers’ throats and drinking their blood until they had had their fill and then they would move on to their next victim. “I’ve been to England a couple of times,” he replied. “Always for work though. Never for play.” He didn’t do much at all these days for play, though he had to admit that what he did do was usually a whole heap of fun.

  Serena stepped in front of Jonathon and threw her arms around him. “Where would you like to go? I mean, if you could go anywhere in the world for no particular reason, just to go there because you wanted to and with no restrictions on your time or talent, where would it be?”

  As Jonathon held Serena close to him, he thought about the Castle Cachtice in Slovakia, home to the beautiful and more-powerful-than-God Elizabeth Bathory, the Hungarian Countess Jonathon had come to know by way of his research as if he had been married to her for fifty years or more. “I want to visit a castle in Slovakia. One with a great history and lived in by a woman the history books whose pages are stained with blood would most likely rather forget. And one that I most likely will never forget.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. He could taste the blood of young girls on her lips. He opened his eyes and looked into hers. There was an undeniable evil in them but as much as he wanted to he couldn’t turn away. He was mesmerized by what he saw in them and even more by what she had become as a result of what she was. “Why did you do it, Elizabeth? Why did you kill them?” to which Elizabeth replied, “Because the thrill of the kill, Jonathon, far outweighed the consequence of being caught, even if the consequence was death.” And it was. Elizabeth was jailed in her castle for four years, living in the darkness of her cell and living on nothing more than bread and water until her body could take no more and it passed away. It was buried in the Bathory family crypt and forgotten about until a young author wondered what would happen if four young boys would do as four young boys have always done, take it upon themselves to visit the dead late at night and bring one of them back to life. The results were as bloody in Jonathon’s mind as any other he had ever seen.

  A gust of wind rushed by and thunder roared inside Jonathon’s head and he let Serena go and fell to the ground. His head hurt and his vision was blurred. Voices called out to him. Young girls whose bodies were being torn apart by a woman possessed by the Devil. They were screaming out to him now, wanting him to help them, wanting him to save them. But he couldn’t help them. And he couldn’t save them. Their blood pooled upon the cold ground and the Countess continued to bathe in it.

  Serena fell to her knees beside Jonathon and cradled her hands behind his head. “Oh my God, Jonathon. Are you okay?”

  The life was almost gone from the girls’ bodies now and their voices were more distant and harder to hear. His vision was less blurred and his head didn’t hurt so much. He looked up at Serena. Dear God, she was beautiful. He climbed slowly to his feet and while he was still dazed he was steady on them. He shook his head a bit to clear it, took a few deep breaths, and Serena’s hand, and continued to walk as if nothing had happened. He was used to these visions and they came and went like night and day. Serena, however, was not. And she was worried. “Jonathon, shouldn’t you go to the doctor, or at the very least back home?”

  Jonathon shook his head which was clearer now. “I need to show you something. Come on.”

  Serena shrugged. “What are you going to show me?” After what had just happened and considering his anxious state, she wondered if it could possibly be what was in his pants and she was getting more nervous and worried about it with every step forward they took.

  Jonathon didn’t stop walking. He just kept going forward. And all the while he kept a firm grip on Serena’s hand. “I want you to trust me, Serena. And know you have nothing to fear.”

  It was dark and they were headed along the road which led to the cemetery. On top of that, Jonathon had just collapsed to the ground and all he wanted to do now was head for a cemetery when she would rather he went to a doctor. Though she couldn’t understand how they could possibly have nothing to fear, she decided to trust in that moment that Jonathon was telling the truth, that she indeed had nothing to fear.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Jonathon and Serena arrived at the front gate of the cemetery. It was locked. Jonathon jumped the gate, swinging his legs safely over it before letting it go. He landed heavily on his feet and the dead leaves crunched beneath them. Then he helped Serena over, catching her in his arms before helping her gently to the ground. She had been with several men before but none of them had been anything like the one she was with now. He was rich and famous for starters while the others had been knockabout bricklayers and carpenters and one of which was even an unemployed bum with no direction in
life but down. She got out of that one before he ever had the chance to take her with him. The last she heard he was rotting away in a jail cell somewhere having been convicted of rape and armed robbery. Twenty years to life. Though she was nervous about being in a cemetery at night, there was something she trusted about Jonathon that she didn’t trust in the others, and something she admired in him, above and beyond her admiration for his ability as a writer, and it told her to keep going forward and that all the monsters in the dark would leave them alone.

  They passed several rows of headstones before stopping in front of the one Jonathon had cleaned up only a few hours before. He stood in front of it for several moments before saying, “This is my dad. He was killed in a car accident just before I sold my first story. The worst of it was he killed the driver of the other car too. Stupid son-of-a-bitch.”

  Serena kneeled next to the headstone. “I never knew, Jonathon. I’m so sorry.” She had often wondered if there was a Mr Steel, if the woman across the road was married or divorced or widowed or had just never hooked up with anyone, that perhaps Jonathon was Jesus and his mother the Virgin Mary, but thought it impolite to dig any deeper than good manners allowed.

  Jonathon kneeled beside her. “I’m surprised no one told you. After all, a town this size finds it hard to keep a secret from itself. Especially a town known as much for its ability to gossip as it is for anything else.”

  Serena ran her hand over the photo of Jonathon’s father. “I guess you have to be born in a small town before a small town thinks of you as one of its own, and you have to be one of its own before it tells you its secrets.”

  “She’s a keeper, Jonathon,” his father said from the shadows. “A good egg you don’t want to let go of.”

  Jonathon kept his back to him. “I don’t know why you bother coming back. I’m not looking at you and never will.”

  “Maybe not, Jonathon, but you’re listening to me and that’s good enough for now.”

  Serena looked at Jonathon. His eyes were closed and his head was bowed. “Are you okay?”

  Jonathon kept his eyes closed and his head bowed. “Yeah. Just thinking about my dad.”

  Serena laid her head against his shoulder. She wrapped her arm around his other shoulder and slid her hand across his chest. It was toned without being muscular; certainly not the bodybuilder type muscular she found such a turn-off. He touched his palms to the back of her hand. Her skin was warm to the touch even in the chilled air. She moved closer to him and his heart pumped hard and fast and he thought for sure it would beat through his chest and fall on the ground beneath his feet.

  A breeze began to blow and it whispered a dead man’s name. Christopher Steel. Jonathon’s father. In spite of what he had done, Jonathon wished his father were still alive, if only to see what his son had become, but he wasn’t alive. His mangled body had to be cut free of the car he was driving and Jonathon never got to see it and every day he thanked God for small mercies. After all, the son of a dead man should never have to see his father’s dead body. Especially when it was covered in blood. Especially when it still is.

  Jonathon stood and he helped Serena to her feet. He pulled her close to him and pressed his lips to hers. He slipped his hands under the back of her shirt and caressed her bare skin. Shots of pure pleasure rang out around her body and her legs almost failed her. She was in his arms and he was holding her close so it didn’t matter if they did because he was her hero and heroes never fail their fair maiden.

  Bats flew across the night sky and Jonathon kissed Serena’s neck, gently touching his lips to her soft skin and moving the tips of his fingers above her bra and over the skin between her shoulders. The monsters in the dark were far away now and Jonathon and Serena pressed their bodies together, moving them this way and that in time with the beating of their two hearts. Jonathon hoped to God his father wasn’t watching.

  Serena slipped her hand down the front of Jonathon’s jeans and began to play with his cock which was becoming more and more erect. He moaned with pleasure as she playfully ran the tip of one finger across the top of it. She knew it was the sweet spot for most men and Jonathon was no different. She undid the zip and eased his jeans and boxers down to his knees. She kneeled in front of him and regarded his throbbing cock with child-like wonder. Here she was with a best-selling author, in a cemetery, about to make love, and his cock - which money, unlike the BMW and the house and the holidays to exotic places, couldn’t buy - was every bit as delicious as she had thought it would be all those many times she had played with herself in the privacy of her bedroom to the thought of Jonathon Steel, multi-millionaire best-selling author, sliding it in and out of her wet pussy. She licked the tip of it and Jonathon moaned. He ran his hand through her hair and drew her closer to him. She took much of his seven inches into her mouth on the first go, letting the head of his cock tickle the back of her throat before pulling back for air. She looked up at him with delight in her eyes and her hand on his cock. He looked back at her with tender eyes that pierced her heart and made it his own. She playfully sucked his balls and gently wanked his cock. She had read in an interview with Jonathon that much of what his characters went through in his stories was based on his own experiences. She wondered if this would end up in one of his books. She wondered if she would end up in one of his books. She sucked harder on his balls and he began to groan. She had every part of him in that one moment but she wanted more. She let his cock and balls go and stood up straight. She pulled down her jeans and panties to her ankles then kicked them off the rest of the way. She pulled him down to the ground with her and laid him on top of her. She grabbed hold of his cock and guided it into her pussy. “Make love to me, Jonathon, like you’ve never made love before.”

  He did as he was told and he did it several times, one after the other. The moon watched over them as two hearts melted into one and as two bodies became one for all time. The magic had begun.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jonathon, Serena, and Jonathon’s mother sat at the table and ate fruit and drank tea. It was almost midnight and Jonathon and Serena had been out for much of the evening. When they came home Jonathon’s mother was already at the table, waiting patiently. She never once worried about Jonathon, about where he was and who he was with and what he was doing. Her son was a star, and as her own mother used to say when they looked up at the night sky together, stars never die. They just keep on lighting the night sky like angels from Heaven.

  “So,” she asked, “what did you two get up to?”

  Jonathon and Serena looked at each other and smiled. Jonathon winked at her and Serena blushed. Jonathon’s mother looked at them and smiled knowingly.

  Jonathon turned to his mother. “We went for a walk up to the cemetery. I hope you don’t mind but I wanted to show Serena where Dad was buried.”

  His mother sighed. She turned to Serena. “I’m sorry sweetie. I probably should’ve told you.”

  Serena rested her hand on that of Jonathon’s mother. “It’s okay. I understand.” She didn’t really, but didn’t want to ruin the moment.

  Jonathon’s mother turned to him. “He was your father, Jonathon. You have every right to share him around and that’s okay. I’m off to bed now. I trust you’ll see Serena home safely?”

  Jonathon smiled. “Of course I will.”

  She stood up and kissed Jonathon on the forehead. “That’s my boy.” She leaned over and kissed Serena on the cheek. “Goodnight love. I’ll see you tomorrow sometime.”

  Serena smiled. “Sweet dreams.”

  Jonathon’s mother left the room and went to her bedroom. She switched on the light and closed the door behind her. She would try and sleep but the memory of the man who drank too much and beat her most nights but not always in front of her son would keep her awake as it usually did. Eventually she would fall asleep but not before the video tape in her head of her late husband striking her with his fists had played over and over and over again. This video would never be returned to
the store from which it had come.

  Jonathon and Serena looked at each other. “Can I ask you something?” Serena said.

  Jonathon nodded. “Of course you can. You can ask me anything.”

  Serena leaned forward. Her sweet smell that wafted through the air made Jonathon want her so much more. “Why did you take me to see where your Dad was buried?” she asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong or anything. I was more than happy to be there. I’ve just never . . . been taken on a first date to a cemetery.”

  Jonathon sighed. “It’s okay.” He sipped some more tea from his cup and sat it back on the table. He looked at the cup and wondered as the best authors do, what if? Like, what if he grabbed that cup and threw it against the tile floor. What would happen? What has already happened for that to happen? Who made the cup? Were they young or old? Married or single? Were they alive still or were they dead? Widowed perhaps? Would it scare Serena if he did throw it?

  Jonathon looked up at her. “My Dad visits me there. Not literally of course. I mean, he can’t. At least I don’t think he can. But he does. In my head. It’s where I hear his voice and I guess it makes up for the fact I’ll never see him again.”

  A single tear welled in Serena’s eye.

  Jonathon continued. “When he died, I wondered what it would be like for us, for my mom and me. I wondered how we would get by without an income if we would at all and I wondered if my dreams of becoming a famous author had died with him in a crash that was his fault and one that claimed the life of a seventeen year old girl. It took a while for me to realize they hadn’t and I knew they hadn’t when I received a check for five hundred dollars a few months later for a story about a boy who falls in love with a girl who turns out to be dead already. She was a ghost all along and he commits suicide so he can be with her in the afterlife. Turns out in my story there is no afterlife. I guess my Dad visiting me is someone’s way of showing me there might be one after all.”