by E. D. Brady
Then, slowly, his mind absorbed the entire scene before him, a scene that screamed something was off.
Two men were walking briskly across 56th Street, weaving in and out of traffic, seemingly making a bee-line for Shannon.
Behind him, cars were honking—granted, that was not unusual for Manhattan, but there seemed to be an ominous vibe to the urgency.
Suddenly, car doors slammed behind him and he heard yelling over his shoulder.
The two men made it to the opposite side of the street and were only a few feet from Shannon. Chad yelled her name, sensing immediate danger. She turned to look at him, her face breaking into a huge smile.
“Move it!’ Someone yelled and pushed passed him, knocking him over. He fell to his knees just as a single gunshot rang out. He looked up in time to see five FBI agents, one of which had pushed him, tackling the two men to the ground.
He quickly scanned the scene for Shannon.
Her eyes locked with his briefly, and then she looked down at the deep wound in her chest before falling backward.
“NO!” Chad bellowed. “NO!” he crawled over to her and stared down. The hole in her chest was horrendous. Blood gushed forth, soaking her lovely new dress. Chad’s body and mind went numb; he couldn’t think clearly, he didn’t know what to do. He stared down into her beautiful face, watching the color drain from it. “You’re alright, you’re alright,” he mumbled, frantically. He picked up her head and placed it on his lap. He knew instantly that she was not all right. It was bad. It was very, very bad.
The possibility that she was going to die hit him like an anvil to the gut, causing ice to surge through his veins. He trembled uncontrollably. “Stay with me, baby,” he pleaded. “Don’t leave me.” Heavy tears spilled from his eyes and landed in her beautiful hair. “Shannon, stay with me,” he begged.
She opened her mouth to respond, but her breathing was just too heavy and labored. She was slipping away. “Sorry,” was the only thing she could force through her lips.
“No!” Chad yelled. “No, don’t do this to me. Don’t fucking leave me this way.” Mind-boggling fear and torment bombarded every fiber of his being.
He heard sirens right beside him and people trying to coax him away from her.
“Shannon, don’t do this to me!” he yelled. He put his face in his hands and wept bitterly. “Please…” he begged again, knowing it was useless. She wasn’t going to answer. She was leaving him.
⃰ ⃰ ⃰
Chad stuck his finger in the collar of his new shirt and pulled, trying to find relief from the stifling heat. He looked down at his black suit and wondered how he’d even managed to dress that morning. He had no memory of anything that happened all day, up until that moment.
He bit his lip and looked over at the Christmas tree in the corner. The fucking thing was mocking him, standing so tall and erect, dripping with festive ornaments and twinkling lights—promises of joy and happiness. He should have demanded that they take it down. He should have refused to let them play music. He should have ordered them to cover the windows, to shut out the brightness. There was only darkness left in the world. How dare they tease him with the light?
Like a small child, his mother grabbed his hand and nudged him in the direction he needed to go. He allowed her to, of course. He was too numb to make his own decisions, to think for himself.
He walked to the back of the church and stood alone to receive the sympathy of over a hundred people, most of them employees from his office. Shannon had only one person who loved her, only one person in the world grieving her. There was only him to hear the shallow ‘I’m sorry for your loss’ and ‘she was a beautiful girl’. None of them knew her, had any idea how beautiful she was, and none of them could ever know a fucking thing about his loss. He stood there, shook hands and said thank you at the appropriate moment as etiquette demanded, all the while wishing he could rage against all of them. Most of all, though, he wanted to rage against God. What kind of a sick, son-of-a-bitch would send him a love like Shannon’s, would give him a taste of such joy and happiness only to rip it from him so soon. He wished he could tear up the pews, break the fucking stained glass windows, scream at the top of his lungs. Maybe if he destroyed God’s house, the Almighty would intervene and smite him, putting him out of his agonizing misery.
His parents stood close by for support, as did Derek and Alex. He knew all four of them feared for his mental health. They had reason to. He was about to fucking snap!
His mother grabbed his elbow and smiled kindly. “We can leave now,” she said. “All you have to do is get through the cemetery service then we’ll take you home.”
“Okay,” he said numbly.
He had no clue what the minister was droning on about. He didn’t care. He kept his eyes on the glossy, wooden casket, wondering how it was possible that Shannon lay in there. He fought the urge to run over and pull the lid off for one last look, one last taste of her perfect lips.
Slowly, the casket started to descend into the ground.
“No,” Chad mumbled, shaking his head. His legs shook uncontrollably, lacking the will to keep him upright.
“It’s okay, Buddy,” he heard Derek say into his ear. He felt his friend’s arm wrap around his shoulder and hold him in place.
The further down the casket went, the more Chad’s heart shattered. He felt his head spin, too much pain for one soul to bear.
A giant chasm opened up inside his heart, spilling wicked, evil darkness into every cell, every molecule of his body. Pain, torment, loss, that was all he knew, all he’d ever know again.
Soon what was left of her was out of sight.
It was all over—life, love, happiness.
Everything was gone.
Only blackness remained!
Epilogue
Twenty-Five Years From Now…
Dr. Allyssa Mathers pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, twisted it then clamped it on top of her head. She pulled a few wispy pieces of hair from the sides and front to give her a natural, breezy look.
She slipped on the black, strapless cocktail dress that she had bought for her date with Mr. Thirsting. A little bit more eye makeup than usual, a deeper shade of red lipstick, and she was ready. She gave her reflection the once over and silently admitted that she looked pretty freaking hot.
She walked out of the bathroom just as the intercom system paged her to the second floor nurses station. She picked up the landline and hit a button. “Ana speaking,” the nurse on duty answered.
“This is Dr. Mathers,” Allyssa explained. “I was just paged.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Ana replied. “Your daughters are here to see you. They’re in the waiting area.”
“Thank you,” Allyssa said then hung up. She walked down to the waiting area, smiling appreciatively at the catcalls she received from some of her male co-workers. She beamed when she noticed her two teenage daughters sitting impatiently on a black, leather couch.
Chloe, her eldest child who had just turned eighteen, bit on her thumbnail while Jillian, one-half of her sixteen-year-old twins, stared at the front of her new smart phone.
Chloe looked over. Her eyes bulged. She got up and walked toward her mother. “Oh my God, Mom, you look beautiful,” she gushed.
“Thank you,” Allyssa said proudly.
“What’s all this for?” Chloe questioned, eyeing her mother up and down.
“I’m going out with Nora for dinner and a few drinks, which is the reason I asked you to stop in,” Allyssa explained.
“That’s a little fancy for Nora, isn’t it?” Chloe probed.
“We’re going to a new swanky restaurant in town.”
“Wow, Mom, look at you,” Jillian piped in. “Can I have that dress when you’re finished with it?”
Allyssa laughed and shook her head.
“So what’s the occasion?” Chloe asked. “What are you celebrating?”
“Initially, we weren’t celebrating anything. We just decided to g
o out for a nice meal,” Allyssa answered. “But today, we had seven criticals come in—there was a big pile up on the interstate. We didn’t lose a single one.”
“Good job,” Jillian said proudly.
“Where’s your brother?” Allyssa asked. Her only son, Brian, was Jillian’s twin.
“He wanted to watch a football game at school,” Chloe answered. “Ben’s mother is driving him home.”
Allyssa took two twenties and a ten from her wallet and handed it to Chloe. “I’m leaving you in charge of dinner, okay?”
“Won’t Dad be home?” Chloe questioned.
“I’m not sure what time he’ll be back,” Allyssa said. “He had an after work meeting to attend.”
“Okay,” Chloe responded, tucking the money into the back pocket of her jeans.
“Make sure that Brian does his homework tonight,” Allyssa added. “And remind him not to make any plans for tomorrow evening. Dad will flip out if he even suggests not joining us for dinner.”
“Got it,” Chloe said, nodding.
Allyssa bent over and kissed Jillian’s forehead. “Goodnight, baby girl.”
“Goodnight, Mom. Have fun,” Jillian replied.
“Drive safely,” Allyssa said then kissed Chloe’s cheek. “Text me when you get home so that I know you arrived okay.”
She watched them leave then ran back upstairs to grab her duffle bag. Walking past her dozen roses, she pulled one out of the vase and decided to take it with her for luck. Perhaps she would present it to Thirsting as a gift.
The drive to the new Merriweather Hotel took only fifteen minutes. Allyssa had yet to visit its cocktail lounge, but almost everyone in town raved about it. She was excited to finally have a few drinks there. She parked the car then checked her reflection in the mirror before slowly climbing out.
As soon as her feet hit the ground, she felt a bout of nervous anticipation and almost chickened out. What the hell was she doing, walking into a hotel, dressed like an overgrown teenager, to have wild sex with Thirsting? But then, the thought of wild sex spurred her on, caused her body to flare up with white-hot need.
She gathered what confidence she could muster and marched into the hotel. A young man behind the reception desk raised his eyebrows and nodded at her.
She walked over to him and smiled. “I’m meeting a Mr. Thirsting in the cocktail lounge.”
“Are you Dr. Mathers?” the young man replied.
Allyssa nodded.
He handed her a room key. “Mr. Thirsting left word that you should go directly to his room instead.”
Oh, great! The kid probably thought she was a prostitute. What else could he conclude from her outfit and strange meeting circumstances?
“Thank you,” she muttered.
He pointed out the elevator and wished her a good evening.
Allyssa rode the elevator up two floors, nervous energy bombarding her. When she found the correct door, she put her hand over her heart in an effort to steady it then she took several deep breaths. When she felt somewhat composed, she slid the cardkey down the slot and turned the handle.
Slowly she pushed open the door.
The room was in utter darkness.
She made her way gingerly inside.
Suddenly, there were two arms around her waist, restraining her. A pair of lips grazed the back of her neck, the feel of hot breath on her skin caused her body to flush. “You came,” a smoldering voice murmured.
“Yes,” she replied in a quiet voice.
“Good,” he purred. “I’m so glad you did.
Allyssa simply nodded, to overcome with nerves to respond. Her heart was beating in her ears.
“I want you to remain perfectly still, okay?” Thirsting suggested.
Allyssa nodded again.
She felt soft material slide across her face, maybe satin or silk. Thirsting moved it up until it covered her eyes, and then he fastened it behind her head.
“I can’t see you?” she asked.
“You don’t need to see me, Allyssa,” he whispered against her neck. “You just need to feel me. Besides, you gave me the impression that you didn’t care what I looked like.”
He had the sexiest voice. The mere sound of it sent Allyssa reeling. “I…yes…yes, that’s right,” she stuttered.
After a few moments of unnerving silence, she started to grow curious. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“You look so beautiful,” he murmured, “so incredibly beautiful that I just wanted to gaze at you for a few moments. I’m rock hard and I haven’t even seen you naked yet.”
“Oh,” she breathed, his words doing strange things to the lower part of her body. “I bought this dress just for you,” she added timidly.
“Thank you,” he replied. “It’s a gift I will treasure forever. The memory of how you look tonight will be with me always.”
“I brought you this rose,” she added, holding out her hand in the direction of his voice.
“You are too good to me,” he said, taking the rose from her hand.
She felt him run the rose down her cheek and shivered slightly. Then, his lips were on hers, kissing her softly at first, then with more urgency. His tongue pushed at her lips and she opened to let him in. Thirsting kissed her like she had never been kissed before. He was a pro. His mouth moved in wondrous ways, twisting magnificently, his tongue lapping at hers, strong and purposeful.
Abruptly, he pulled away from her, leaving her desperate for more. He took her by the hand and led her further into the room. He maneuvered her onto the edge of the bed and told her to tilt her head back. She did as she was told and felt him pour crisp, bubbly liquid into her mouth.
She swallowed. “Champagne?”
“Yes,” he answered. “Open your mouth again.” He kept it up until she had drunk at least a glass and a half.
She heard him put the glass down, then, quickly, he grabbed both her wrists and pulled her to her feet roughly. “I can’t wait any longer to taste your body,” he murmured into her ear. I’m driven wild with desire.”
He pulled her to the left then held both her hands in one of his. Allyssa felt another piece of soft material encompass both her wrists. Thirsting was tying her to the bedpost. “What are you going to do with me?” she asked in a panicked voice.
“Wrong question,” he answered. “It’s more like, what will I not do to you?” He leaned close so that she could feel his breath on the side of her face. “Not much,” he whispered.
Allyssa let out a whimper.
“Before this night is over, I’m going to fuck you harder than you’ve ever been fucked in your life,” he said.
Allyssa arched her back and tugged at her bindings—they were secure.
Thirsting reached around her back and let his fingers search for the zipper of her dress. He unfastened it then pulled at the hem, sliding the dress down her body. He ran his hand over her tummy. “Your body is so perfect,” he said.
“Thank you,” she stuttered.
He gripped the top of her underwear and tugged them up, teasing her mound with the material. “Black panties,” he murmured. “Did you buy those for me also?”
“Um hum,” she moaned, the sensation scorching through her.
“Tell me…what would your husband think of you if he knew you bought sexy panties for another man?” he asked with an amused tone.
“I…don’t…I don’t know,” she moaned.
He slipped his fingers beneath the rim and stroked her once with his forefinger, causing her to gasp loudly.
“What would he say if he knew another man had his hand in your panties, Allyssa?”
“I don’t know,” she cried out. “I’ve…I’ve never done anything like this before.” Something about his unexpected questions fueled the flames of her already burning desire. She didn’t regret her decision to come here. No matter what Thirsting had in store for her, she needed just one night of mindless, meaningless sex.
“I know you haven’t. You’re lik
e a timid little mouse. I can feel you trembling,” he answered. “But you have nothing to fear. I won’t hurt you. I only want to make you feel so good.”
He reached up and pulled her strapless bra down, releasing her breasts. He rubbed some sort of liquid into her nipples, causing her to moan loudly. A second later, her nipples were cool and tingling and begging to be touched roughly. She cried out, hoping that Thirsting would pinch them, or nip them with his teeth, anything that would give them relief.
“How does that feel?” he asked.
“It’s…I want…I want you to touch them,” she cried out. “Please.”
He took her bra off and laughed. “Not yet!” he answered. He kissed her mouth, pushing his tongue into her. His hands slid over her shoulders and down to her sides. “I love the feel of your skin,” he muttered. He licked a trail down her neck and back up then sucked at the flesh below her ear.
Finally, Allyssa felt his mouth on her nipple. She threw her head back and gasped as he sucked it into his mouth. He worked the other with his hand, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.
The lower part of her body was beginning to overheat. She rocked her hips up, desperate to be touched between her legs, hoping that Thirsting would take the hint. Thankfully, he slid his fingers beneath the rim of her panties. She moved her hips up to meet his hand. He ran his finger between her moist folds and moaned against her breast. He moved his hand up and down slowly, driving Allyssa to the brink of madness.
He moved his mouth back to her neck and suckled hard, determined to leave a mark. He slowed down the movement of his hand, and Allyssa thought she would die. “Don’t…Don’t stop,” she beg.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured into her ear. He twisted his forefinger around the fabric and tugged, allowing the material to rub against her mound again, this time repeatedly. She rocked out of control.
He moved down her body and pulled the panties off her legs completely. He pushed her legs apart. He kissed a trail up the inside of her thigh, stopping just short of her center, much to her frustration. He kept up the slow, steady torture, getting oh so close to the mark but stopping before he reached it.
