“Mr. Coulson, would you please come here for a moment,” she called out. Garret stopped working on his algebra assignment and glanced towards the teacher at the back of the room. Setting his pencil down, he stood up and walked towards her.
“Yes?” Garret stood by the teacher’s desk. Beth looked up at Garret and smiled.
“I just wanted to let you know I finished correcting the tests from last Friday. You were the only one who scored one-hundred percent. Congratulations.”
Garret shrugged and said, “It was an easy test.”
“No. I don’t believe that’s it at all. Perhaps it was easy—for you. But no easier than the other two tests we’ve had so far this year. The difference, in my opinion, you didn’t rush and you took the entire time allotted to take the test. I noticed with the first two, you whizzed through them both, turned them in after fifteen minutes, and while you passed the tests, you only got a C on each one. Garret, if you keep this up, I see no reason why you can’t get an A in this class.”
“Well, I just figured, I don’t have anywhere else to go, so I might as well work a little longer on the test.”
Beth smiled at Garret, delighted he was actually trying.
“You know, Garret, I see no reason why you can’t do as well in all your other classes. I’m very proud of you. I just wanted you to know that.”
“How’s your daughter doing?” Garret asked, abruptly changing the subject. Beth suspected he was uncomfortable with praise.
“Alexandra? Why she’s doing very well, thank you. Although, I suspect those little boys who were chasing her are still having nightmares.”
Garret chuckled. “It serves them right for picking on a little girl.”
“By the way, I met your younger brother. He’s in my son’s class.”
“Yeah, Russell mentioned something about that to me. He’s a good kid. You don’t have to worry about your son hanging out with him. Russell isn’t anything like me. Kid always gets good grades, never gets in scrapes.”
“Well, Garret, from what I understand, you never get in trouble at school.” Beth eyed him with curiosity.
Garret leaned closer to the desk. “Mrs. Chamberlain, you know why that is. If I was anyone else, I’d be racking up hours in detention. Most people around here are afraid to reprimand me. Everyone but you.” He flashed Beth his most charming smile, then headed back to his desk.
Chapter 12
Like a child terrified to go into the haunted house yet unable to resist, Vera found herself walking toward the public restrooms off Main Street. She didn’t go immediately to the row of trees behind the building, but instead went into the lady’s room and looked into the mirror.
She had parked her car down the street, in front of the hobby shop. It wasn’t quite noon yet. Glancing at her watch, she had five more minutes. When she left home that morning, only the household staff was on the premises. Sonny had gone to the office with his father and grandfather.
Her husband never asked her where she was going, or when she might be home. She doubted he really cared. Vera wasn’t stupid. She knew her husband had a lover. What she didn’t know—had he started seeing other women before she sent him from her bed or after?
Looking in the mirror, she brushed her fingers through her hair and straightened her dress. Placing her hand on the middle of her chest, she held it there for a moment. It reminded her of a drum, the way her rapid heartbeat vibrated the palm of her hand. She had never been so nervous in her entire life. Terrified and exhilarated—one emotion fed the other. Glancing at her watch, she knew it was time. She needed to go. She had no choice. Vera wasn’t sure she wanted one.
Walking out of the restroom building, she looked around. There was no one on the walkway and the building was not visible from the street. Hastily, she made her way to the trees. Pushing the branches to one side, she saw room ten’s door.
Slipping quickly between the branches so no one would see her should they walk down the sidewalk to the restrooms from the shops, she made her way to room ten. She heard voices. Someone was coming down the walkway of the motel, and if she didn’t do something quick, they would see her standing there.
Anthony lounged lazily on his hotel bed, leaning against the headboard as his legs stretched out on the mattress. He wore just a robe with nothing underneath. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was a few minutes before noon.
He had left the door unlocked and the windows and curtains closed. The lamp next to the bed provided the only lighting.
Seconds after he checked the time, the door burst open and Vera rushed in, slamming the door behind her. She leaned against the door as if someone was after her. He watched as she looked around the room, her eyes adjusting to the light.
“Why did you slam the door?” Anthony asked, slightly amused.
“Someone was out there. I heard voices.”
“Then lock it if you want, put on the latch. And come here.”
Obediently, Vera locked the door, fastening the latch so even someone with a key would not be able to enter. After securing the door, she approached the bed.
Anthony did not move but enjoyed watching Vera from the comfort of the bed. She seemed nervous, but she was following his instructions. When she was by the foot of the bed she paused, as if uncertain what to do now.
“Vera, have you ever stepped out on your husband?” Anthony asked.
“No,” she whispered.
“You’ve never been unfaithful to him?”
“Never.”
Anthony was pleased with her answer. He believed her. It made her a much more valuable piece in his estimation.
“When was the last time you had sex with your husband?”
The question startled Vera, and she just stood there, not responding.
“Please answer my question.” His voice was stern.
“Before Russell was born.”
The answer surprised Anthony. He sat up straighter in the bed. Did her husband not like women? “Why?” he asked.
“I…I told him I didn’t want him anymore,” she confessed.
“And he simply accepted that? The man is a fool. Take off your dress, Princess. I want you to strip for me.”
Vera’s eyes widened.
“Do it, Princess, now. You’ll discover I’m nothing like your husband. You belong to me now. Take it off.”
He watched as her trembling hands reached back awkwardly and unzipped the dress. She pulled it over her head and folded it neatly, setting it on the desk chair. He chuckled to himself, finding such tidy behavior amusing.
She stood there a moment, concealed by her slip and bra. Nervously she removed her shoes but stopped there.
“The rest, Princess. I want it all off for the first time. Perhaps the next time you come, don’t wear any panties, that way you can leave your garters and nylons on.”
“Next time?”
“Yes. Like I said, you belong to me now. Take the rest off and get your ass over here. I’m getting impatient.”
When Vera was completely nude, she nervously made her way to the bed. Anthony stood up for a moment and removed his robe, tossing it carelessly to the floor. She could not take her eyes from Anthony’s nude body. His broad chest looked as if it was covered with a thick blanket of fur. Even his muscular thighs were covered with black hair. His penis jetted out, already engorged, much larger than her husband’s. There was something terrifying—intimidating about Anthony’s nude body.
She did not have time to think about it, for in the next moment he grabbed her by the wrist and tossed her onto the bed. Climbing on, Anthony wasted no time getting exactly what he wanted from Vera Coulson. He was not gentle with his lovemaking and used her roughly. In spite of his roughness, he made sure she climaxed.
Lying quietly next to Anthony, Vera said nothing as he smoked a cigarette while using his free hand to stroke her left breast. She looked up to the ceiling, trying to comprehend all that had happened.
“Can you still get pregnant?”
he asked while smashing his cigarette into the ashtray on the nightstand.
“Pregnant?” Vera asked dumbly.
“Well, my sister can’t anymore. She had a kid, and something happened so she can’t get pregnant again. I wondered, you have three kids, anything happen where you can’t get knocked up?”
“I… I… hadn’t considered. It took me a long time to get pregnant with our last one, I don’t know.”
Anthony chuckled. He moved his hand down from her breast and rubbed her stomach.
“Who knows, maybe I’ll put a baby in your belly. What do you think your tight ass husband would think of that?”
He massaged her stomach even harder. “I might just get me another son.” Anthony rolled over on Vera, and without any foreplay, he took her again.
“What time is good for you tomorrow?” Anthony reclined on the bed, watching Vera as she redressed.
“Tomorrow?” she asked numbly.
“I’m not unreasonable. I don’t expect you to come every day at noon. So what is the best time for you tomorrow?”
“I can’t come here tomorrow.” Vera’s hands trembled.
“You didn’t hear me, Princess. I own you. You tell me what time, or I’ll tell you.”
“I can’t do this again. I might get pregnant.”
Anthony laughed. “Who knows, maybe you are now. Okay, be here at noon tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Princess, do you think your rich ass husband will understand? I saw how you looked at that oldest son of yours. How will he feel when he knows his mommy likes to fuck around? Do you tell every man you meet that you haven’t had sex with your husband since before the birth of your last child? Do you always give men blowjobs in public restrooms? Do you kiss strangers the first time you meet them? How many people know about that sexy little heart shaped mole of yours?”
Vera said nothing but just stared at Anthony. She was dressed and ready to go.
“Now come over here and give me a kiss goodbye, Princess.”
Obediently, she walked to the bed. Anthony reached out, grabbed her by the arm, and jerked her atop him. Violently, he kissed her, bruising her lips.
“Be here noon tomorrow. I keep what’s mine,” he whispered into her mouth.
For the rest of the week, Vera drifted through a sexual fog. No longer protesting, she submissively showed up at his motel room each day at whatever time he dictated. Sometimes his lovemaking was generous and he kept her on the edge, making her weep and beg for completion. Other times, it was rough and demanding, as if her body was no more than a receptacle for his lust.
His sexual proclivities were dark and varied. By the end of the week, he had used her in ways she had never imagined—or desired. In spite of the humiliation and the pain, she returned. In some peculiar way, she craved what he gave her and found it impossible to resist.
On Friday afternoon, the day before the Coulson Halloween party, Vera was again in the motel room with Anthony. He seemed to be in a generous mood and lulled her into a sense of security as he brought her to a violent climax. Sleepily enjoying the pleasurable aftermath, Vera was jolted back to reality when she found Anthony’s hands wrapped around her throat as he squeezed tightly, as if trying to drain the life from her body.
Gasping for air, her eyes bulging, she frantically grabbed his wrists, trying to pull them away. Just when she thought she would pass out, he released her. Coughing violently and trying to catch her breath, Vera grabbed her throat and rubbed the injured area. Looking wildly at Anthony, she was confused.
Coolly, Anthony grabbed hold of her chin and forced her to look him in the eyes.
“I just want you to understand—I mean really understand—I own you now. I have the power to end your life with very little effort.”
“I don’t understand,” she gasped, terrified for her life.
“I love you Vera. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. But if I ever find out you’ve fucked your husband again—or any man but me—I will kill you and him. I won’t even think twice. Do you understand?”
With tear-filled eyes, Vera nodded.
Whatever demons possessed Anthony, they vanished as quickly as they appeared.
“Don’t be afraid, baby,” Anthony whispered into her ear. He then moved on top of Vera, kissing her, stroking her body reverently. “I love you so much baby, I can’t help myself.”
“Please don’t be mad at me,” Vera cried out wrapping her arms around Anthony, holding him tight. “I’ll do whatever you want, I promise. I’m yours, Anthony, no one else’s.”
Wanting Vera to prove her devotion, Anthony took her in the roughest way he knew how—in the way she found most painful, humiliating, and unnatural. Without complaint, she took it all, each painful thrust he inflicted.
Vera had mentioned the Saturday Halloween party to Anthony, telling him it would be impossible for her to get away. He seemed to understand and told her not to worry. They could see each other on Sunday, after church.
On Saturday morning, Vera started her period and felt a tremendous sense of relief. She was not pregnant. Trying to put Anthony out of her mind, she directed the household staff in preparing the final touches for her party.
That evening, party guests arrived in costume, many wearing masks in a spirited attempt to conceal their identity. Never once did she imagine Anthony would be so bold to crash her party, especially considering he didn’t seem that interested in knowing about the event.
He came as a pirate, and even she did not recognize his true identity at first. It wasn’t until he asked her to dance and whispered into her ear did she know who it was. She was both frightened and titillated to know her secret lover had found his way into her party and her arms.
“Come upstairs with me to some hidden room, and fuck me. It’s been too long.”
“It was only yesterday,” she said, careful to keep her voice down. “Unfortunately, that time of month came this morning, so I’m afraid it will be a week before we can be together again.”
“Meet me upstairs—in a room of your choosing.”
“Don’t you understand, I said…”
“Oh I understand. I want you on your knees. I’ve always been fond of you in that position. What room, Princess?”
“Go up to the third floor…. I’ll go first. The first room on the left. The rooms on the third floor are never used. You can use the back staircase. No one will see you. Down the hall, past the library. I’ll go up the main staircase. If anyone sees me, they’ll assume I’m just going to freshen up.”
Alone on the third floor of Coulson House, Vera Coulson submissively went to her knees and followed the instructions of her demanding lover.
When he was finished with her, he zipped up his pants and watched as she awkwardly got to her feet. “You’re getting very good at that.”
“Let me leave first,” she suggested.
“First I need to tell you something. I got a phone call today. I need to go out of town for the week on business. I’ll be back late Friday night. Come over Saturday at noon. Plan to stay longer than normal. I have a feeling that after a week without you, it’ll take me all afternoon to get my fill.”
Chapter 13
Looking in the mirror, Randall straightened his tie. Glancing briefly at the reflection of the younger man lounging on the bed behind him, he gave his tie a final wiggle before he was satisfied with its appearance. He turned around.
“John, I have a favor to ask you,” Randall asked.
“Certainly, you name it.” John Weber lit a cigarette and took a drag. He set the cigarette in the ashtray on the table next to the bed.
“There’s someone I’d like you to check out.” Randall walked toward the bed and sat down on a chair. He faced John.
“Anyone I know?”
“I don’t think so. His name is Anthony Marino. He’s staying at Cliffwood Motel.”
“What does he look like?” John asked. He reached for his cigarette and took another drag.<
br />
“Italian, looks like he should be a Vegas entertainer.”
“Sounds hot.”
Randall chuckled. “The man has raw sexuality, but I have a feeling his interests lie elsewhere. In fact, I am certain of it. It’s my daughter-in-law.”
“Vera, screwing around on Harrison? I find that hard to believe. I’ve never heard a whisper of her stepping out.”
“I don’t believe she ever has—until now. While I’m not in the habit of monitoring my children’s sex life, I’m concerned she may be in over her head. Something about the man, I think he may be dangerous.”
“Have you spoken to Harrison about it?”
“No. I’d rather just handle it.”
“Like you do with everything.” John flashed him a smile. He stood up and walked toward the chair. Bending down, John brushed his lips over Randall’s.
“So will you do it?” Randall asked when the brief kiss ended.
“Have I ever denied you anything? I’ll see what I can find out.”
“When?”
John laughed. “I’ll get right on it. Promise.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “But I have to go, or I’ll be late for the meeting. I’ll call you later.”
Before leaving, John lifted the foot of the mattress off the floor until the Murphy bed disappeared into the wall of Randall’s office. Giving Randall a final wink, John strolled from the room while straightening his own tie.
The door to Randall Coulson’s private office opened and Maryanne Peterson looked up from her desk. John Weber walked out, straightening his tie. Maryanne smiled. He is so handsome, she thought. Of course, he was too old for her. She guessed he was in his fifties. A widower, he had never remarried and from what she understood, he had been working for Randall Coulson since the family moved to Coulson in 1949.
Maryanne had only been Randall’s secretary for six months. His previous secretary had gotten married, and the groom wanted his new wife to stay at home.
Coulson's Crucible Page 8
