Deadly Passion, an Epiphany

by Gabriella Bradley

  Closing her eyes she tried to pierce the cloudy fog that occupied her brain, tried to remember. Mark… What happened to Mark? We were at Crimson Lights. He told me he loved me, asked me to marry him. As if she were watching a slow motion movie, a hand appeared before her holding out an open red velvet box. In it sparkled a beautiful diamond ring. She’d reached toward it, was about to tell him yes when pandemonium broke loose. There was an explosion, fire, bodies and limbs hurling through the nightclub. She’d felt herself jerked away from their table. Saw Mark collapse. Fire edged toward her, licked at her feet. People were screaming, shouting, running and panicking, trampling her as she lay bleeding on the floor.

  Tears streamed steadily down her face as the horror of it all penetrated the fog in her mind, as she felt tongues of fire lapping at her body once again, smelled her hair burning, her skin. She reached up. Her hair was wet, but it was all there. She was covered in blood, but when she wiped at it, her skin was fine and she had both arms, both hands. Her stomach revolted once again when she remembered her severed arm, the blood gushing from the wound. It was a nightmare. It didn’t happen. And she was still dreaming. Had to be. How could there still be blood on her body? The water would have washed it off.

  She stood, somewhat wobbly, but she was able to move her feet. The sand was hot. So hot, it burned the soles of her feet. Walking faster now, as fast as the soft sand would allow, she headed for the dunes. There had to be something behind them, a house, people, anything or anyone. The sun was scorching. She could feel her skin burn. Clasping her arms around her, she realized she was naked. Good God. I can’t show up anywhere like this. Where are my clothes? Now at the top of the first dune she held a hand over her eyes and saw nothing but miles and miles of sand and dunes and not a house or anything in sight. Well, if the blast and the fire didn’t kill me, I’ll certainly die out here. Where is here? She tried to yell but only a croaky sound came from her lips.

  “Megan! Megan, can you hear me? If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

  Where did that voice come from? It didn’t sound familiar. She looked at her hands. Squeeze whose hands? She made a fist and shook her head in confusion.

  “That’s it, dear. Squeeze again.”

  I’m going crazy. Voices in my head telling me to squeeze a hand. Yeah, right. She made a fist again and tried to giggle. Again, nothing but some frog like noises came from her lips.

  “I think she’s coming to.”

  “I’d like to put her into an induced coma. The pain will be too much for her,” a male voice said.

  Megan shook her head, willing the voices to stop. She started down the dune, fell halfway and rolled down to the bottom. Instead of landing in more soft sand, she fell into a big hole filled with bright light.

  Happy Birthday, Megan…

  Megan grinned at her reflection. It was her nineteenth birthday and Mark was taking her to some swanky nightclub. He’d assured her he’d be able to get her in, even if she was underage. She’d bought a new outfit for the occasion, a cocktail mini dress in the color he liked her to wear the most, blue. Usually she was quite thrifty, but this time she’d spared no expense. She’d also purchased matching shoes and purse and had her hair styled. Twirling in front of the mirror she felt quite glamorous. The front door opened and closed. She’d given Mark a key to her apartment about a month after they started dating, the day after they’d first made love.

  “Wow!”

  He stood behind her. Placing a kiss in the nape of her neck, he cradled her against him. He towered over her and looked over her head at the mirror. “You look absolutely stunning, baby!”

  Twisting in his arms, she stood on her toes and kissed him. “And you don’t look half bad yourself!” She kissed him again.

  “Keep this up and we’ll end up in bed instead of going out.”

  “Fine with me,” she whispered against his lips. “I’m horny as hell now.”

  He grinned. “You’re always horny.”

  “Because of you. You’re a fantastic lover, hon.”

  “Says the all-experienced woman. And how many men did you sleep with before you met me?”

  “Oh, a few dozen.”

  “Is that all? I thought you had a different one every night of the week.”

  Twisting out of his arms, she walked back to the mirror. “You’ve mussed my lipstick.”

  “I thought it wasn’t supposed to come off.”

  Her lips were fine, but she’d wanted to change the topic. It almost seemed as if he was disappointed that she hadn’t been a virgin when they’d first made love. She’d never really told him why, merely that she’d had a boyfriend for a brief period before she came to New York. It wasn’t true, but she was far from ready to talk about the real reason. That part of her life was locked away in her mind’s safety deposit box, not to be opened by her or anyone. It was a part of her life that would remain tucked away, something she didn’t want to be reminded of or ever think about again. Mark had killed the demons that had haunted her. After dating him for a few weeks almost every night, she realized not all men were monsters and she’d fallen hopelessly in love with him.

  Applying some lipstick, she turned around to face him. “Ready to go?”

  “I am if you are.”

  “Do I look old enough to have a glass of wine tonight?”

  “Sweetheart, I prefer your hair loose, but yes, having it pinned up makes you look in your early twenties. Also, since I can get you inside, it would mean you’re old enough to have a cocktail.”

  “Good. I’d like to celebrate my birthday with a glass of champagne! Let’s go!”

  He still hadn’t wished her a happy birthday. Was he deliberately ignoring it? She tried not to show her disappointment. Sure, he was taking her out for a special evening, but at least a rose would have been nice, a kiss, a hug, anything to acknowledge the day.

  “What’s wrong, babe? You’re not your usual bubbly self,” he said while opening the car door for her.

  “Nothing much. Missing my family and friends from back home today. Mom and Dad didn’t even call me. It’s weird. Unless the phone rang while I was out shopping. But surely they would have left a message?”

  “Would you rather stay home? They might call while we’re out.”

  “No! They’ve had all day to call.”

  It was rather a long drive to the club. Mark had told her the name and location, which didn’t mean much to her. She’d explored her immediate surroundings when she first arrived in New York—Times Square, the city center, but that was it. She’d Googled the club and was shocked at the price of a table. The article told her the nightclub was frequented by movie stars, well-known artists, musicians, bankers, and business people. Several sites had photos and she’d bought her outfit based on the dancers pictured. The women wore a mix of mini, regular length and long dresses. She’d decided on the mini dress, because how often would she need a fancy long dress?

  They arrived at the club. A valet took Mark’s car to park it and he offered her his arm, of which she was glad because she wasn’t accustomed to walking in stilettos. The doorman greeted Mark by name, which told her he’d gone to the club more than once. With whom? A pang of jealousy darted through her heart. Mark was nine years older than she and had lived the high life of a bachelor playboy. She loved him so deeply it was hard to imagine him coming here with another woman on his arm.

  The interior of the club was all glitter and glamor. Huge chandeliers hung from high ceilings. Statues and plants decorated the walls. The dance floor, already filled with dancers, had a white and black and white checkered floor. Mark steered her to an empty table, but when they got there and she was about to sit, a bunch of people jumped up and surrounded her. In front of them all, he took her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

  “Happy birthday, baby,” he said softly against her lips, just loud enough for her to hear over the din of the music. He let go of her and she found herself clasped against her mother’s chest, her fathe
r hovering behind. Cassie was there with her latest beau and her group of friends, and also Vera, her best friend from home with Chad, her boyfriend of many years and now her fiancé. Desperately she tried to control her happy tears. No one had forgotten her birthday after all. She hated to admit it to herself, but she’d been really disappointed that day not hearing from anyone.

  “Your sister and brother will call tomorrow, hon,” her mother told her.

  After all the birthday wishes and hugs, Mark settled her down at their table. “You thought I was deliberately avoiding the birthday issue, right?” he said, a mischievous glitter in his eyes and smiling slightly.

  Megan nodded. “Thank you. You’ve got no idea how happy I feel right now. I love you so much for arranging all this.”

  “And I hope to make you feel even happier a bit later on.”

  “Nothing can beat this surprise. How did you—“

  He placed a finger on her lips. “Never mind how I did it all. All that matters is that right now, my girl is glowing!”

  It was hard to talk. Her mother had a thousand questions until Mark finally said, “You guys can talk all you want tomorrow. They’re staying in New York for a few days, Megan. Come dance with me, hon.”

  His head rested on hers while they danced. Every now and then he’d bend down and whisper in her ear how much he loved her and how proud he was to be her man. Megan wished the night would never end.

  Close to midnight she and Mark were alone at the table. She had no idea where everyone was, maybe dancing or at the bar. He reached across and took her hand in his while he produced a small opened red velvet box. Looking deeply into her eyes he said, “Megan, you’re the love of my life, my soul mate. Will you spend the rest of your life with me?”

  Moved beyond words she started to nod, was about to say yes while he plucked the beautiful diamond ring from the box ready to put on her finger, when there was a thunderbolt, a bright flash, an explosion. “Mark…Mark…” she whispered, filled with fear, as she lifted off her chair and literally went flying into a crowd of screaming people as if she’d been shot from a canon. It all happened in split seconds. She didn’t have time to think, to react, until she crashed to the floor. People fell on her, spiked heels pierced her belly and she screamed. She tried to roll away, to fight from beneath the panicking throng. From far away she heard Mark’s voice.

  “Megan…Megan…where are you…Megan…”

  The weight lifted off her and she lay for a moment, excruciating pain radiating from her arm. What arm? She saw it about a meter away from her body, blood seeping from the torn skin and arteries. She screamed again and again. Through a haze she saw Vera, lifeless and bloodied on the floor, Chad lying across her body, his head severed. Nausea attacked her, bile trickled from her lips, the pain too much to bear, the horror she witnessed too gruesome to comprehend.

  “Megan…”

  Mark’s voice penetrated her screams. She stopped and turned her head into the direction of his voice. I never told him the truth… She saw him on the floor not far away from her, his face covered in blood. Fire suddenly engulfed him. His screams of pain and terror were soon silenced and the flames licked their way steadily toward her, lapping at her clothing. In seconds her clothes caught fire, her hair. The scent of scorched hair and skin was strong, the pain excruciating. She heard shouts, started to feel numb. Firefighters rushed toward her carrying hoses that doused the fire that had started devouring her flesh, before she blacked out.

  The lie…

  “Babe, is this your first time?”

  They’d been dating a month and she’d fallen hopelessly in love with Mark. He wasn’t just a pretty boy. He was caring, thoughtful, kind, sweet, and she felt very lucky that he’d fallen in love with her, too. She lay naked while he stroked her and whispered sweet words in her ear. “No,” she said softly. “I had a boyfriend for a short time.”

  The lie was told. There was no going back now.

  “Were you in love with him?”

  “No. Does it matter? I love you. You’re my soul mate.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Heaven knows I don’t have the right to ask you questions. I’ve done my share of dating, but not with anyone that really mattered.”

  That gave her pause for thought. He’d bedded a lot of women. Was it safe to have sex with him? It was as if he could read her thoughts.

  “Don’t worry. I was very careful who I dated and I always used protection.”

  “I’m not worried,” she murmured, seeking his lips. Sure she’d dated, but it had never gone further than a kiss. She wouldn’t let it. Not one of the young men remotely interested her, let alone turned her on. Sex was a dirty word in her vocabulary. She wanted no part of it and for good reason. Her best friend, Vera, often described her sexual experiences and talked about feeling horny. Megan didn’t have a clue what that was, how it even remotely felt. Until Mark. He’d awoken feelings within her she didn’t know existed. In a way she was glad she’d had no interest in exploring sexuality. It made her feel as if she were still a virgin, as if Mark was her first. And in many ways he was.

  He claimed her lips, his hand on her breasts, while he undid his belt with the other hand and wriggled out of his jeans. She felt his cock press against her belly, its hardness, and she stiffened for a moment. It was the beast, the monster from her nightmares.

  “Relax, babe. I’ll be gentle,” he said softly against her lips.

  Her body melted under his gentle touch. The soft stroking between her pussy lips set her blood on fire. She felt an unfamiliar throbbing in that area, a pulsing. When his thumb pushed on her clit, pleasure shot up her abdomen. Widening her legs, she lifted her hips a little, urging him on now. He sucked her nipples one by one until they hardened. Raining kisses down her stomach, her belly, he entered a finger and another. He buried his face between her legs and nibbled on her clit, then entered her with his tongue while cupping her buttocks. A big sigh escaped her lips as he took her to heights of ecstasy, craving, wanting more of what he gave her.

  He stopped suddenly and sat on his knees, his eyes black pools of desire as he gazed down at her. She looked at his cock and it didn’t scare her. It looked big, hard, pulsing gently against his belly, swollen with desire for her. The veins beneath the silken skin fascinated her and if she could have reached she would have stroked them. It wasn’t a monster. It was really quite beautiful and she wanted it, wanted him.

  He placed the tip of his cock at her entrance and pushed carefully. “Damn, you’re tight,” he murmured while withdrawing and pushing his fingers in again. He rotated them, pushed them back and forth, until she came and her cream gushed over his fingers. Quickly, he replaced them with his cock and this time inched in a bit at a time.

  Megan felt him filling her, stretching her. It didn’t hurt. It was utter pleasure upon pleasure. She reached to him, urged him to take her into his arms. As he did, he pushed in all the way and lay still for a moment, until she wrapped her legs around him. It was beautiful, it was heavenly, it was beyond description. Her body had a mind of its own as she grasped his buttocks to take him even deeper into her. Clenching her vaginal muscles, she captured his cock.

  He groaned softly. “You’ll make me come too soon, my love. I want us to climax together.”

  She had no idea what that was, how it felt, but soon found out when the fire he’d ignited within her built to such a height, it needed to be doused and the only way to put it out was for him to reach his climax. He shuddered and she relaxed her muscles allowing him to fuck her, faster, harder, until she screamed her release. His shout sounded like one of triumph, like a tiger pouncing on its prey. His strokes calmed, relaxed, she felt his cock reducing to its flaccid state but still within her. He gathered her into his arms.

  “I love you, babe, more than you can imagine.”

  “And I love you, Mark.” Quietly she lay in his arms. Was it even possible to fall so deeply in love in a month of dating? “Mark, you didn’t use a condom and I’
m not on the pill. What if—“

  “I’m sorry. I should have asked. I usually carry them, but I love you so much and wanted to really feel you. Wearing a condom is like taking a shower with a raincoat on.”

  She giggled, a picture forming in her mind of them under the shower wearing raincoats holding an umbrella. “I don’t want to get pregnant. I’ll go see a doctor to get a prescription for the pill.”

  “I think I’m ready for a family, but I guess you’re not yet. You’re young. You’ve hardly lived an independent life and here you’re involved with me and I’m ready to settle down.”

  “It’s not fair to ask you to give me time,” she murmured. “I really do love you, but we’ve only been dating a month and—“

  “Not to worry. I’m not about to run. You can have all the time you need, my love.”

  He kissed her, tenderly at first, until she felt passion ignite within her again. Hesitantly, she reached for his cock and stroked it. He was hard for her, wanted her as much as she wanted him. She stroked the silken skin, the protruding veins, caressed the monster she’d feared for so long, the thing that disgusted her, terrified her—it had become her friend now, an object of desire, of need. For one short moment memories surfaced of the past but she quickly buried them again.

  “Babe, what’s wrong?”

  Megan looked up into his eyes. His gaze was filled with passion but also concern and tenderness. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  “I read sadness in your eyes with a hint of fear. There’s something you’re not telling me. Talk to me, babe.”

  How would he react if he knew? She hesitated. He deserved to know the truth. No. It was too soon. Time only could tell her if he was really her soul mate, if they were meant to be together. “Make love to me again?” she whispered against his lips while she encased his cock and moved the skin back and forth.