by Nic Saint
“Magali. A man accosted her on the street tonight and told her in so many words your house had been singled out for attack. She tried to reach you but was unable to.” He raised an eyebrow in question.
“I, erm, was busy.”
Jacques grinned. “Is that what you kids call it nowadays? Good to know.”
“Who was the guy? The one who warned Magali?”
Jacques lost his smile. “Unfortunately, he didn’t hang around to inform us. But don’t worry. We have a pretty good description.” He unearthed a robot photo from his inside pocket and handed it to Jack.
He stabbed at the picture with his index finger. “That’s him. That’s the guy who slugged me yesterday. He’s one of them.”
Jacques fingered his mustache. “Interesting. So he decided to turn tail and become a snitch, huh?”
“Find this man and you find whatever lays at the heart of this sordid affair.”
Jacques carefully returned the picture to his pocket. “We’ll find him. And I have a hunch it won’t take long before we do.”
Jack helped his friend hope so. This whole mess had dragged on long enough, and the toll it was taking on both him and Valerie was starting to show.
He flashed back to the scene in the kitchen. Valerie naked on his kitchen table, he pounding away at her like a man on fire.
He grabbed Jacques’s arm. “I need to know who she is, my friend. I’m afraid I...”
Jacques locked eyes with him. “No need to tell me. I know. Just... Don’t lose your head, Jack. Keep it together. For both your sakes.”
Jack nodded, though he feared he’d lost his head a long time ago, along with the rest of him.
Chapter 23
It seemed like ages before Jack finally returned. All this time, I’d feared the worst, and when finally the door made a buzzing sound and scared the living daylights out of me, I grabbed the first weapon I could find—a beer bottle perhaps left there by one of the workmen installing the safe room, and swung it before me like a battle axe, Rufus yapping furiously all the while.
When Jack caught sight of me swinging the improvised weapon, he burst out into laughter. I almost threw the bottle at his head out of pure exasperation.
“You! How dare you leave me locked up in here!”
“You look so funny with—” He gently took the bottle from my hand. “You better put that down before you hurt yourself.”
“I was thinking more about hurting you.”
“I know, and I’m sorry, but everything’s been taken care of downstairs.”
I threw myself into his arms. “Jack,” I murmured against his chest. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
“I’m not so easy to kill,” he smirked, ruffling my hair.
Then he told me the whole story of what happened, leaving out no detail. It was obvious he was as intrigued as I was about the woman who’d tasked herself to target me.
“But why, Jack? Why me? What do they want from me?” Exasperation made my voice break.
“I have no idea. But at least we now have a solid lead. One of them seems to have had a change of heart.”
He told me about the ugly man from the day before. The one claiming to be my father.
“Perhaps he will be able to tell us more.”
“Not if he’s like the others. It’s just crazy. Why won’t they talk?”
“It’s... a mystery. All I know is...”
“Yes? What?”
He eyed me with a mixture of confusion and compassion, and I felt it reach all the way to my soul. Finally, he shook his head. “Nothing. Forget about what I said and let’s go back to bed, huh?”
If Jack thought I would be able to sleep now, he was sorely mistaken, and I told him as much. But he insisted. And strangely enough, the moment my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep.
I must have been exhausted.
The next morning, I was awakened by the smell of freshly baked pancakes and coffee. My mood, which had been pretty rotten the night before, abruptly made an about-face, and when my feet swung to the floor and I felt the soft carpeting under my toes, I felt both refreshed and rejuvenated.
My eye fell on the bedside clock, and I was surprised to find it was past ten o’clock. I’d slept like a baby. Jack was already up, so I stretched, yawned, and padded to the adjoining bathroom to see if I couldn’t take a shower before going down for breakfast.
I was surprised to find the shower running, and Jack standing underneath the powerful jets, humming a tune. It sounded very much like the theme song from Beauty and the Beast.
I giggled as I listened to his baritone voice singing horribly out of tune. Then, in a moment of lunacy, I decided to join him.
I quickly stripped off my clothes, and opened the shower stall door.
If Jack was surprised to see me, he didn’t show it. Instead, he turned to me with what looked like the biggest sample of morning wood I’d ever laid eyes upon—at least, I thought it was.
“You seem pretty happy,” I murmured, letting my hand trail a path along his pronounced pecs down to his rippling belly.
“I am. Now that you’re here. Wanna soap up?”
“Uh-huh.” I turned my back and allowed him to soap me up. When his hands circled to my front and he massaged my breasts, it elicited a sharp intake of breath.
Bending over to allow him to do my buttocks, I felt a rush of excitement flutter through my lower belly when his fingers traced the crack of my ass. I spread my legs a little to allow him to probe deeper, and he eagerly accepted the invitation, rounding off the lesson in personal hygiene by spreading my pussy lips with his fingers.
Standing on my tippy toes, I willed him to explore me further—deeper—and then suddenly felt something else entering me. Aided by the soapy suds, his cock slid deeply into me before I had a chance to cry out. My hands pressed up against the glass, I shivered with pleasure as Jack’s rock-hard girth penetrated me all the way to the hilt, driving into me as if I was his own personal property, for him to take whenever he pleased.
His breath ragged in my ears, he grabbed my swaying boobs and pressed them together, his fingers splayed around my nipples as he pounded me hard from behind.
Pushing me up against the glass, the steaming hot jets relentlessly spraying down on us, his cock felt like a jackhammer as it reached my hidden depths.
“Faster, Jack,” I implored. “Take me hard.”
He spread my buttocks wide with his large hands as he relentlessly hammered into me. I was pressed up against the glass, my breasts squeezed flat, the motion of his pounding pelvis driving me to the heights of pleasure in next to no time. Then, suddenly, my body moving as if on its own accord, jerks and shivers wrecked through me, and I was experiencing my first climax of the day.
“Oh, God, Valerie,” Jack’s hot breath came in ragged gasps. “God, you feel so good.”
His large hands encircled my hips and he pushed me down onto his spearing length like a rag doll, using me as a fucktoy. And I loved it.
My inner walls were soaking wet, not from the soapy treatment but from my own lubrication freely flowing around Jack’s relentless rod, and as he slipped into me faster and faster, I cried out in ecstasy, my body and mind in the throes of the greatest climax I’d ever experienced. Even though I had no recollection of my past, I intuitively knew nothing like this had ever happened to me ever before. The heights of ecstasy Jack was granting me were exquisite and new to me.
He reached his hand up to my face and turned me to him, devouring my mouth with his while he kept up his sinfully delicious thrusts into my center, sending ripples of joy out across my lower belly.
I quaffed deeply from his mouth, sucking his probing tongue, and when finally he cried, “I’m coming, Val. I—”
I felt such an urge to feel him spray his cum inside me, to experience his hot seed filling my womb, but instinctively I allowed him to slip out of me, and when he sprayed his seed all across my buttocks instead, I felt both rejoiced and intensely
sad. I so wanted us to conquer this final barrier, to become lovers in every sense, but something inside me knew this to be a bad idea.
Instead, I dropped down to my knees, and licked his impossibly swollen cock, feeling the weight of his balls in my hands, the touch of his silky glans on my tongue.
When finally we went down for breakfast, giggling and joking like a couple in love, something told me Magali knew exactly what was going on, for a glint of amusement shone in her eye.
And when we sat down at the kitchen table that had been the scene of our first lovemaking the night before, both Jack and I shared a look of love that was probably obvious to even the most indifferent observer.
I was in love. And if my heart was anything to go by, in love for the first time in my life.
Chapter 24
“So. What do you want to do today?”
Valerie eyed him from across the breakfast table as if the question was an offensive one. When Magali shook her head and offered a loud tsk-tsking sound, he realized it probably was.
Being with Valerie had become so intoxicating to him, that every day seemed like a vacation. Well, at least when people weren’t taking swipes at him or burgling his home.
He sighed. “I’m sorry. I keep forgetting you’re not on holiday here.”
“I’m not likely to forget,” commented Magali. “It’s not every day I am almost attacked on the street by big brutes telling me to watch my step.”
“I wonder if they’ll catch him,” remarked Valerie, biting into a piece of toast.
“They’re bound to. With a face like that, he’ll stand out in a crowd for sure.”
“You’re right about that. He does have a very remarkable visage.” Directing his next comment to Valerie, he added, “I’m sure Jacques will catch the brute in no time.”
“That brute probably saved your life, Jack Carter. Those people had decided to kill you, you know.”
“I know,” mumbled Jack, though he couldn’t quite get his head around the fact. Why anyone would want to kill him was beyond his comprehension. All pieces of the complicated puzzle this affair had turned into.
“Have you heard anything from Bill?”
Jack snorted. “I’m not likely to, seeing as he hates my guts.”
Valerie looked thoughtful. “I just thought he might have discovered something by now.”
“Bill Rattner couldn’t find his ass with two hands.”
Rufus chose this moment to give a short bark, seemingly in full agreement with his master.
Magali eyed both Jack and the dog censoriously. “What a horrible thing to say about an officer of the law.”
“Yes, Jack. What a horrible thing to say,” echoed Valerie, but he could detect the humor in her voice.
He shrugged. “Just an expression.” He dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. “These pancakes are really delicious, Magali. You should copyright the recipe.”
The compliment appeared to appease the irate housekeeper, for the frown that had been etched on her face disappeared. “Your father called this morning. Wanted to know how you were doing. You were still... engaged upstairs, so I took the liberty of filling him in on the events of last night.”
Jack raised a single eyebrow. “And? How did he take it?”
“He was shocked and appalled, as well he should be. Said he’ll arrive in Paris tonight to concern himself personally with this affair.”
At the mention of the word ‘affair’, Jack cast a guilty look at Valerie, then it dawned on him his father probably meant something else entirely. The news of the old man’s imminent arrival disturbed him to some extent. He’d rather have brought his affairs in order before meeting his father. He didn’t feel quite ready to introduce Valerie to Carter Sr.
Valerie didn’t appear to share these sentiments. An infectious smile had spread across her pretty face. “So I’ll finally get to meet the fabled Jack Carter Sr. I can’t wait.”
Magali pursed her lips, that frown having swiftly returned. “Don’t get your hopes up about meeting him, honey. The old Carter differs in many respects from the young one, not the least of which is his terrible temper.” Polishing the counter with a dish towel, she directed her gaze at the ceiling. “I can still remember the day he gave that young Francois Vartier the scare of a lifetime when he caught him sipping from his stash of wine.
“Francois had been sent on an errand, and when he didn’t return, Mr Carter personally went looking for him. He finally found him in the wine cellar, coiffing deeply from his most expensive, most beloved Bordeaux Lafite. Young Francois will probably forever rue the day. Mr Carter beat him within an inch of his life before discharging him without pay.”
“Yeah, I remember. Dad wasn’t too happy about the incident. He later expressed his regret, and sent Francois an envelope with cash and a letter of apology.”
The story seemed to have struck a chord with Valerie, for she was uncharacteristically silent. Even Magali noticed, and she quickly interjected, “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you. Mr Carter is a good man, really. It’s just that he sometimes has a habit of flying off the handle.”
Valerie looked awfully pale all of a sudden, and Jack leaned forward, grasping her hand. “Are you all right? Do you need to lie down perhaps?”
Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. Her look of confusion startled him. “I think... I’ve met your father before.”
“What makes you think that?”
“That story about the boy? It sounds awfully familiar.” She shook her head, as if trying to clear it of its cobwebs. “I don’t know. It’s just that when you were telling it? I felt like I’d heard it before somewhere.”
“Well, you’ll know soon enough, darling,” said Magali. “Mr Carter said he’s coming down here straight away.”
Valerie directed a look at the picture of Jack and his father that hung suspended from the wall. “I don’t think it’s Mr Carter I remember. As far as I know, I’ve never seen him before. More... the incident.”
“Young Francois Vartier being sacked? I’d doubt that, dear. It happened such a long time ago. You were just a boy yourself, weren’t you, Jack?”
“I must have been eight or something at the time. I still remember, though. Francois’s parents later filed a formal complaint against dad. Claiming abuse. Nothing ever came of it, of course. Young Vartier was caught stealing, after all. Dad could have filed a complaint against him if he’d wanted to.”
Suddenly, Valerie cried out. He followed her gaze to another picture. “Who is that woman? I-I recognize her.”
Jack and Magali shared a look of concern.
“Why that’s Mrs Carter. Jack’s mother.” Magali quickly genuflected. “She died ten years ago, God rest her soul.”
Chapter 25
I stared up at the picture of the beautiful woman displayed on Jack’s kitchen wall. A wild tumble of red curls cascaded down her back, her green eyes fixed on whoever had snapped the shot, a burgundy scarf tightened around her neck and two little boys playing at her feet.
“That’s Jack, and that’s his big brother Frank,” Magali pointed out. She’d taken down the frame from the wall and laid it in front of me for a closer look.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, focusing on the woman and ignoring the two boys, whose mischievous grins spelled trouble.
I looked up and met Jack’s eyes. He peered at me with a mixture of sadness and pride. It was obvious he’d loved his mother very much.
“What is it about her you recognize, darling?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that... the moment I saw the picture, something clicked inside my head. As if I’ve seen her before somewhere.”
“You might have. Francine Bruniau was an accomplished violinist. She performed on stages all across Europe before finally settling down in Paris. Perhaps you attended one of her concerts?”
“She must have made quite an impression, if you remember in spite of your amnesia.” Jack was staring down at the picture fondly.
A violinist... “Perhaps if I would hear her play?”
Jack coughed. “We... that is to say, my dad had all her recordings removed from the house the day she died. It reminded him—us—too much of her.”
“You see,” explained Magali, “the music of Mrs Carter brought so much joy to so many people, and Mr Carter intended it to stay that way. Each time he’d listen to her play, it brought sadness to his heart. So he decided that rather than remember her in sadness, he would remember her with joy. But without the music.”
“I...” Jack directed a quick look at Magali as he rose to his feet. “I still have one of her recordings. Got it a couple of years ago. Dad doesn’t know.”
While Jack disappeared into the living room, in search of the recording, Magali gave me a wistful smile. “That boy loved his mother so much. You simply can’t imagine. In fact it’s a miracle he’s turned into such a fine young man. At one point, we all thought the loss would wreck him.”
Jack returned with an iPad, and laid it on the table in front of me. “She’s not on YouTube, for some strange reason. I suspect dad managed to not only remove her recordings from his own home, but from all homes.”
Magali tsk-tsked again. “The nerve of that man. Why would he deny the world the pleasure of listening to Mrs Carter’s talents?”
“Listen,” whispered Jack, and pressed play.
Soft strands of classical music drifted from the tablet’s speaker and filled the kitchen. I didn’t recognize the music, but somehow it sounded familiar. As the music went crescendo, I felt the familiar sensation of prickly tears stinging my eyes. As I stared at the image of the red-haired woman and listened to the sound of her unmistakable talent, I started to sob uncontrollably while Rufus emitted a soft whine. The dog didn’t seem to like the music all that much.
Jack slung his arms around me, and rocked me like a child.
I felt embarrassed to be reduced to tears simply from listening to the music of a woman I’d never known.
