I heard the knock at the door as I was slipping on my last heel.
“Come on, Maggie. We ready to go?” Jackson called from the living room.
Spritzing on my favorite perfume, I took one long look in the full framed mirror on his dresser. I had to admit to myself, I looked good. I felt amazing, and loved, and it made my eyes prickle with tears.
“What are you doin-- Maggie? Are you ok?” Jackson said from the doorway.
I turned and launched myself at him.
“I’m wonderful. I love you. I love you so much.”
He laughed, “I love you too. Let’s go eat, ok?”
Twenty minutes later, the four of us exited our car while the driver held the door for us. We had decided on a small quaint seafood place in the small town next to ours, lining the Delaware river. After dinner, we planned on watching the sunset over the river on a little bridge across the street. The view was incredible, although I knew Jackson wasn’t too keen on being so close to the un-Godly amount of water. I attempted to soothe him by pointing out the waist-high stone wall separating the bench and the river below, which helped. Some.
We were served our drinks immediately and we all chatted while we waited for our dinners.
“Maggie, you look stunning,” Polly complimented me.
“Thanks Pol, Love can do wonders to your physical appearance.” I absentmindedly thanked her.
“LOVE!” Polly screeched, loud enough to turn a few heads at bordering tables.
I shrugged, “Sorry, Polly, I didn’t tell you. Polly meet Jackson, the love of my life. The man who has made me whole.”
I looked into Jackson’s eyes and saw my own words reflecting back at me.
Taking my cue, Jackson spoke up. “Chase, meet Maggie. The other half of my soul. My reason for existence.”
“Polly,” Chase said, leaning over to his sub, “Can you check my mouth, I think I’m getting a cavity from the amount of sweetness coming off of these two.”
We all laughed, it was funny, but it was so true. The love bubble surrounding us could be felt from all angles. The feeling of trueness wrapped around us, blanketing us from the outside world. I never realized love like this could be so potent, so perfect, but I would never trade it in. Not for a billion dollars.
Conversation ebbed and flowed as we talked about growing up together, and Polly recalled some terrible stories from our younger days, meant to embarrass me. I wasn’t embarrassed though, I wanted Jackson to know every detail and every facet of my life before him. In turn, I told Chase about the time Polly re-created the iconic scene from Say Anything, holding a portable CD player above her head to get the attention of the boy she had been crushing on for years. I didn’t think any of us could have laughed any harder, but when I finally told them the plot twist, the boy had been gay, the laughter had doubled.
The night was perfect, and everything I could have ever asked for. I had the love of my life next to me, his hand on my thigh, my best friend across from me, her own love shining from her eyes, a belly full of lobster, and a heart full of love. Nothing could ruin it. Or at least that what I had thought.
I saw the waiter before anyone else, and I felt my fingers drop my fork, and my hands begin to tremble.
“Mags? What’s the matter?” I heard Polly say from far away. My vision was starting to blur and the sounds around me became muffled, and faded. I couldn’t do this again. Not tonight. Not the day after the most miraculous revelation and the outpouring of my heart to the man beside me.
I was being sucked under, but something was holding me up, keeping me from embracing the darkness threatening to overtake me. One word was all it took for everything to clash back together, my eyes to focus, and my hearing to return. “SUB,” my Master next to me whispered harshly into my ear.
I turned, and fell into his open arms. Once again, he had saved me from retreating within, and kept me firmly planted in the now. We would get through this together.
As the waiter got closer and saw the distress, Jackson let me go and stood to approach him.
“Where did these come from? How long ago were they delivered?” Jackson demanded of him.
“Just now, less than a minute ago. The guy walked in, told me the description of this young woman and tipped me to deliver them to her. He just walked ou-- Hey where are you going?” The waiter screamed after Jackson’s retreating back.
Oh God, he was going to follow the guy. Oh God, I had to go after him. What if something happened, it would be all my fault. I jumped to feet, cursing the way the room spun around me. Kicking off my shoes, I sprinted after Jackson. He was already out the door, and I couldn’t see him anymore. I had to catch up to him.
The concrete was cold on my feet as I burst through the restaurant door. Looking up and down the street, I looked for my Master. There! Across the street, at the base of the cobblestone bridge was the man I was searching for. And just a few feet in front of him, a face that I struggled to remember.
“Is that Master Sam?” Polly asked from behind me.
“Who?” came Chase’s reply.
“You know, the guy Master Jackson kicked out at the Leather and Lace event when he got super physical with Maggie.”
It was him. He was the one sending me death threats? He didn’t even know me. We’d spent less than five minutes together total at the club, and I wouldn’t have even remembered his name had Polly not said it mere seconds ago.
My feet were frozen in place as I watched Jackson gain on Sam and then tackle him at the top of the bridge. I needed to move, to run up to them and stop the madness from taking over in the middle of the street. There wasn’t anyone around, but surely someone would spot two very large men beating the crap out of each other. Fear kept me rooted.
I watched as both men stood up and circled each other. They were both talking, their mouths moving in an animated fashion, but I was too far away to hear what they were saying. Around and around they danced, waiting for the other to make a move, while I stood transfixed, my heart in my throat.
Sam threw the first punch but missed by inches, giving Jackson the prime opportunity to throw his own right hook into the man’s gut. We heard him cough, and we heard him call Jackson an asshole, and I knew I needed to move. I needed to break this up now.
Taking one step at a time, I walked across the street, without bothering to look for passing cars. I needed to get to Jackson. I needed him to hold me. Half way across the street, my mouth dropped open, and I let out the most blood curdling scream. Falling to the asphalt, I watched as Sam pulled a gun from his jacket and pointed it at Jackson.
No! No! No! This could not be happening. Sam was after me, not Jackson. I had to get to them. To give my life to save Jackson’s if necessary. As fast as my body would allow, I was on my feet and running. The sound of honking cars was drowned out by the blood pumping through my ears and the way my feet slapped the pavement with each stride.
I didn’t hear Polly or Chase screaming from behind me, and I didn’t hear Jackson tell me to stop running. I didn’t hear the river flowing in front of me, or the gathering people watching as a man pointed a gun at another man. And I didn’t hear the gunshot that fired two hundred feet in front of me, landing squarely in Jackson’s shoulder.
The only thing I heard was Jackson’s “I love you” and the splash he made when he fell over the bridge and landed in the Delaware river below.
Time stopped.
My breathing stopped.
My heart stopped.
But my feet kept moving, willing my body to go faster to get to him. He couldn’t swim, and he hated water. I had to get him out of that water. He couldn’t swim, he wouldn’t swim. He needed to be on dry land.
I couldn’t see anything as the tears rushed from my eyes. I could only make out the outline of the cobblestone, two foot high, brick wall separating me from the man I loved.
I didn’t know where Sam was, and I didn’t care. I took the last step before reaching the barrier separating us,
and jumped, only to have a pair of hands grab my waist and pull me away.
I clawed at the hands clamped around my body. I fought. I kicked. I screamed.
“NO! LET ME GO!! HE CAN’T SWIM. HE HATES THE WATER. LET ME FUCKING GO RIGHT NOW!”
“You can’t jump after him Maggie.” Chase tried to reason, but I didn’t want to hear it. I would jump in after him, every time.
“CHASE. LET. ME. GO. HE CAN’T SWIM.” I howled. “Please, Oh God, please, no. Let me go to him. Let me GO!”
I thrashed and fought, kicking the man holding me back. I tried desperately to remove his grip around me, until my body and my energy gave out, and then I crumpled to the ground, the strong hands letting me down softly.
Another warm body wrapped around mine. Polly.
“Polly, where is he?” I cried out through my tears.
“Chase is going down there right now. We’ll find him.”
“You don’t understand, Polly, he’s aquaphobic. He can’t swim; he can’t handle the water,” I sobbed. “I need to go down there and get him, Polly. He’s everything, and he can’t swim, Fuck Polly, what did I do. What DO I do? He can’t fucking swim. I love him so much. I can’t do this without him. Polly, please. What do I do, he can’t swim!”
“I know Maggie,” she cooed. “Don’t worry Chase will get him.”
I struggled to stand, while Polly tried holding me down, but she was no match for the adrenaline still coursing through my body. Every part of my body was on high alert, reeling, and in shock. I knew I had to get to him, wherever he was. I would find him, dry him off, and then we would move somewhere with no water. Somewhere in the middle of the country. We would get married, have a few kids, and get old and wrinkly. But first, I had to find him, and I would. Right this second.
Looking over the bridge, I saw nothing. The yellow and orange backdrop blinded me as my eyes scanned the water below. The current was heavy, bristling quickly towards the ocean. To my right, Chase was climbing down the embankment to the river’s edge.
I couldn’t stand here anymore. I had to act. I had to help. With a final look behind me, I whispered ‘I’m sorry.’ to Polly while ignoring her wordless plea, before I turned around and jumped, plummeting into the icy river below, to search out my missing piece.
Epilogue
Maggie
The sunset in front of me was beautiful. Majestic, even, as I strolled through the grass. It reminded me of another pivotal moment in my life. Yellows and oranges, mixed with blue icy water, and red blood in my memories. The little hand clutching mine pulled me from my troubled thoughts, and I looked down at the spitting image of my one true love.
“Mommy,” Jackson Jr. said, “Are we going to see Daddy now?”
“We are, little man. We’re going to go say hi,” I said, holding back the tears that threatened to fall. I had to be strong, for our son.
Passing each gravestone on autopilot, I navigated my way through the maze with uncanny remembrance. I hadn’t been here in four years, but my feet knew the path to my soulmate, and to my heart, which laid within the empty wooden box.
Jackson’s body had never been recovered from the ice cold river, even after weeks of diving professionals trying to find it. He had vanished, and the recovering team suspected the current had dragged him off into the Atlantic. I wanted to go with him and begged Chase to let me go, seconds after I had hit the water, and Chase had grabbed me, watching as I dove in.
On April nineteenth, I buried an empty box in the ground that would forever be the memorial of the man I had given my heart to. I spent weeks sitting there, praying, crying, and hoping that, by some miracle he would find his way home. I didn’t eat, I didn’t sleep, and finally, Chase and Polly had to drag me away and take me home.
The following weeks, I got angry and smashed every breakable thing within reach in my new home that Jackson had left for me. The house that we had lived in for the past few months, the house that he had made sweet love to me, and had healed my broken spirit.
How dare he leave me alone? How dare he go away without taking me with him? I thought he loved me, and cherished me. How could he fucking leave? I screamed over and over again, causing myself to go hoarse for days on end.
I had lost close to forty pounds in a matter of two months. I looked so haggard that Polly finally convinced Chase to drag me from my home and take me to a doctor. I didn’t need a doctor, I needed Jackson.
It turned out, I really did need a doctor. I was three months pregnant and the baby’s amniotic sac fluid was dangerously low. I was ashamed to admit that, at first, I didn’t care. I didn’t want a constant reminder, in the form of some tiny human, of the man who I had lost. I would have given up ever having children, just to see him again.
But common sense returned, as well as Jackson’s voice in my head. That baby is half mine, he said, you better protect him and love him, just as I would have. That’s an order little sub. That day, I dusted myself off and tried swimming through the grief that had drowned me, that had inevitably drowned him.
It wasn’t easy to grieve a man, and celebrate a new baby at the same time. It was hard, but I had Polly and Chase, and the other club members to get me through. Everyone had gone through some sort of mourning when they learned of the demise of “The Hunt’s” owner, even gathering outside with a small candle vigil the day after.
At eight and a half months pregnant, at my baby shower, Chase gifted me with the ownership of the club, which had been willed to him if anything had ever happened to Jackson. He told me it was my right to own it, seeing as Jackson had discussed proposing to me the night he died. The shock hit me so squarely in the chest, I didn’t even realize my water had broken, and Jackson Jr. was about to make his entrance into the world on his Daddy's thirty-third birthday. It would have been our first birthday together, since I had met him just weeks after his thirty-second. His son, it seemed, wanted to honor him.
At 5:05 pm, I welcomed Jackson Jr. into the world with Polly and Chase by my side. We all cried, including Chase, at the beautiful boy in my arms, and for the man that would never get to meet his son. It was bittersweet.
Two days later, a jury of my peers sentenced Sam to two life terms in prison, back to back, without parole. They had found the remains of several missing woman, from all over the country, chained to a wall in his basement. He was psychotic, and I was lucky to be alive, and at the time I half-agreed with my luck, and half vehemently wished it had been me instead of him.
“Is that him, Mommy?” Jr. tugged on my hand, pointing at Jackson’s headstone.
“Sound it out, little man, your kindergarten teacher has been teaching that to you, remember?” I said, pointing at each syllable as he worked it out.
At five years old, Jr was the smartest kid in his class, by far. I was so proud, and I knew his father would have been as well.
“Jack- sson-- Hunt- er! That is him, mommy. We have the same name and birthday!” he squealed, impressed with his own genius.
“Very good, little man. I’m so proud of you,” I exclaimed, dragging my little boy into my arms to hold on to him a little bit tighter. Every time I thought of Jackson, I gripped his namesake like my life depended on it. I wouldn’t be able to do that forever, but for now it was enough.
“Can we go swimming after this, mommy? I want to go swimming,” he asked, as he tried to get away from my arms.
I laughed at his antics. Unlike his father, Jr. was obsessed with water, in a good way. I had made it a point to teach him, even before he could walk, how to swim, and he loved it. He lived for the water.
“Yes, we can go swimming after we visit with your Daddy,” I told him.
This was his first time visiting, and the first time I felt strong enough to bring him. I had avoided this place like the plague, but Jr. deserved to be here, and I needed to find a measure of closure, so I could move on. Even after five years, my heart still ached in my chest with every minute of every day.
I owned the club now and ha
d responsibilities. I was now thirty-one, and wiser than I had been before. I would never be a sub again, but I could never go back to a vanilla lifestyle. Jackson’s teachings were ingrained into me, and I would use my knowledge and pass it on to other inexperienced subs.
Occasionally, I would do a demonstration for other Dom’s, but never again could I, or would I refer to any man as Master. That word, and my heart, was reserved for Jackson, and it always would be. The first time I tried, almost broke me again, but for my son and for Jackson, I picked myself up and carried on. I was a woman, and I still had needs, but no one would ever make me feel like he did.
“Mommy?” Jr. tugged on my hand, bringing me back to the present.
“Yeah, little man?” I said through my tears.
“Why are you crying?” he asked innocently.
Bending down, I looked into the striking eyes of the little boy who made my still heart starting beating again. “I miss your daddy, Jr. He would have been so proud of you, and I hope you know that he loves you so much. Just as much as me.”
“I know mommy. You tell me all the time,” he said, throwing his arms around my shoulders and giving me a kiss on my cheek, making my heart melt a little more.
“I love you little man.”
Pulling away and turning his attention back at the marble remembrance in front of us, I watched as he scrunched his brow and silently attempted to read the script at the bottom of the stone.
“Mommy, what does that say?” he asked, pointing at those words that echoed in my head on a daily basis.
“You tell me son, on second thought, let’s say it together.”
“Ok, mommy, I think I know those words.”
“Of course you do, little man. Let’s read it, and show daddy how smart you are.”
Grabbing his hand, as I kneeled down beside him, we both read the final script on Jackson’s tombstone.
“No matter what anyone says. I am beautiful. Inside and Out.”
Chub Rub Page 24
