We had the most amazing honeymoon together. We were so happy and so in love. I felt like I had hit the jackpot. We spent two weeks in a secluded, luxury hut on the crystal clear waters of Bora Bora. When we were planning our honeymoon, we had every intention of going out and exploring the island, but all we did for two weeks straight was have sex. Hot, passionate, intense sex, and it was amazing. We consummated our love all over every inch of our tropical honeymoon home. I was in heaven.
When we got home, Matt immediately had to leave for a conference in New York. I was fine with it. I was happy he was succeeding in his career. I pictured him bragging to his work friends about all the amazing sex we’d had on our honeymoon. Within a day of him leaving, every inch of my body longed for him. I wanted to be close to him, and more than that, I wanted to feel him inside me again.
I was completely his, completely addicted to him. I couldn’t imagine life without him.
So I decided to surprise him. I was positive he’d be as thrilled to see me as I’d have been if he surprised me. I booked a flight to New York and eight hours later, I was hailing a cab from JFK to his hotel. The entire cab ride, I was wet, picturing what we’d do to each other in his hotel room. It would be like our honeymoon, all over again.
With some gentle sweet talking of the front desk staff of the hotel, and the help of our marriage certificate, I was able to get a key to Matt’s room. He had been texting me earlier in the morning, telling me how much he missed me, and that he couldn’t wait to get home to me. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he got back to his room and found me lying there, naked, handcuffed to his bed.
I squirmed with anticipation as I rode the elevator up to his suite. As I walked down the hallway, I felt giddy and had butterflies. Even though we’d dated for years before getting married, he still gave me butterflies. I thought it was a sign our love was real. I was so excited to surprise him. I slid the key in the slot, opened the door, and dropped my bags to the floor.
A very blonde, very naked woman was bouncing up and down on my new husband’s lap. He was thrusting powerfully into her, his back to me, and her huge breasts bounced with each thrust. She saw me instantly and started to scream. Matt took it as a sign of her pleasure and pounded her even harder.
I was in utter shock. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I almost blacked out.
I was treated to the sight of him reaching up and grabbing her breasts as she continued to scream, louder and louder. His thrusts grew more forceful and then he gasped, forced himself deeper inside her, and moaned in the ecstasy of an orgasm I thought was reserved only for me.
He never even heard me open the door. The girl was still screaming but I think it was her orgasm, rather than my unexpected arrival, that was the cause of her excitement.
I didn’t know what to do. I shook my head in disbelief. The woman’s eyes locked on mine as she finished climaxing. She must have known who I was. It was so obvious. I must have looked so pathetic to her, so weak. I shook my head and lifted my finger to my lips.
She understood instantly.
I picked up my bag, backed out of the room, and shut the door as quietly as I could. I have no idea how Matt’s date with her ended, if she left quickly or spent the rest of the week fucking his brains out, but I know she never mentioned my presence to Matt. He never knew what I’d seen.
I walked back to the elevator like a zombie. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t even breathe. I managed to push the elevator button and as the doors shut behind me, I burst into tears of such anguish I thought I’d die. I was so shocked I couldn’t stand. I fell to the floor and sobbed like an idiot.
I couldn’t believe what had just happened.
The elevator slowed as it approached the lobby and I forced myself to pull it together. I wiped my face, got to my feet, and straightened myself out. When the doors opened I strode across the lobby with my bags and never looked at the front desk staff who’d just given me the key. I don’t even know if they noticed me leave. I got straight into a cab and twelve hours later I was back in my house.
But it didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t home anymore. It was just four walls filled with expensive furniture and fancy things I didn’t care about. I never said a word of my trip to anyone.
But I was never the same person again.
Matt got home and I kissed him on the cheek like a dutiful wife. I asked him how his trip was and he said he was exhausted. I asked if he needed anything and he gave me a bag full of dirty laundry.
I felt I’d already failed as a wife. I felt it was my fault and I had to work harder to make it up to him. I felt I wasn’t good enough for him. Even as I smelled the other woman’s perfume from his clothes when I did the laundry, I told myself it was all my fault.
I died that day. Not physically, but emotionally.
Watching those bikers force Matt to shove my wedding ring up his ass was probably the only thing in the world that could have brought me back to life. I sat there, pressing play on the video on my phone, over and over. Each time I watched it, I felt my heart come a little more back to life.
After watching it about fifty times, I opened my email, clicked on The Brotherhood’s email address, and wrote a two word response.
Thank You.
CHAPTER 14
KANE
I hadn’t intended to spend so much time on the water. I was surprised when I saw I’d been surfing over three hours. It felt good. After everything that happened the night before, I needed it.
I got dressed by the Jeep, sitting on the passenger seat while I pulled off my wetsuit and got into some jeans and a white t-shirt. I checked my face in the mirror and winced. It would take a few days for the bruises to clear. Those guys had really let me have it. Oh well, I deserved it. When you act like a pig, you should expect to get treated like one.
I was starving and went straight from the beach to the café, parking across the street. When I looked inside I saw Sandra. If I remembered correctly, she’d been at the brewery last night and must have seen my performance. Still, she waved and reached for a cup to start pouring me a coffee.
I walked inside and the smell of fresh bacon made my mouth water.
I made my way to my usual spot at the counter and did a double take when I saw the woman from the brewery last night sitting in a booth. She hadn’t seen me yet, but Sandra made eye contact with me as she topped up the woman’s coffee. The look she gave me said I better behave this time.
I should have known I wouldn’t be getting away with what I’d done.
I sat on the stool and reached for the newspaper as I took the first sip from my coffee.
“Really?” Sandra said. “The newspaper, Kane?”
“What?” I said, feeling sheepish.
“You never read the paper.”
She was giving me a hard time. It was obvious I was trying to avoid being noticed by that woman.
“You having your usual?” Sandra said.
I nodded awkwardly.
Sandra put some cutlery on the counter in front of me and leaned in.
“What was wrong with you last night. You were a complete jerk.”
“Please don’t remind me.”
“I’ll tell you what. You apologize to her and I’ll drop it.”
“Apologize?”
“You owe her that much.”
“I got the shit kicked out of me.”
“Not by her.”
I looked at Sandra then over at the girl I’d been so mean to. I didn’t even know why I’d picked on her. She’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
“I know,” I said. “You’re right. I don’t know what came over me.”
“I’ve never seen you like that. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you weren’t a nice guy.”
I nodded. It was true. I really hadn’t been myself.
“She just brought something out of me,” I said. “I couldn’t handle it.”
I wasn’t used to feeling emo
tion anymore. I’d spent a year deadening everything. Last night it all woke up at once.
I looked behind me at the woman as casually as I could and debated if I should go over to talk to her. She looked like she’d been crying and I was sure I was the last person in the world she wanted to bump into.
“She’s been on her phone since she got here,” Sandra said. “I’m not sure what she’s looking at, but she was full blown crying a few minutes ago.”
“I feel like such an ass, Sandra.”
“You should.”
“You know that wasn’t me, right?”
“I don’t know what to think. All I know is an apology would be a good start.”
“She doesn’t want to hear from me.”
“You were cruel. I mean, you’re usually pretty cold. You haven’t given a girl an inch since …” her words trailed off.
“I know,” I said.
“But this girl was minding her own business and you humiliated her. You basically called her fat, Kane. In front of the entire place.”
I shook my head as the memories flooded back to me. What had I been thinking about.
“I didn’t even mean it, Sandra. I mean, look at that girl. She’s beautiful.”
“I’m not the one you need to be telling.”
“She’s perfect,” I said, unable to stop waffling.
Sandra rose her eyebrows at me as I got down from my stool and made my way over to the woman. I cleared my throat and ran my hand through my unruly hair, trying to straighten myself up a little. It was hopeless. With the bruises, there was no way I was going to look presentable.
As I approached the girl, she cut me off before I could get a word in.
“Oh great. You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Wait,” I said, holding my hands up a sign of peace.
“I guess you’ve come over to judge me for eating again? In your world women don’t eat, right?”
“Oh, God,” I said. “Please. I’m really sorry about last night.”
“You were way out of line, buddy.”
“I know. Honestly, what I said, what I did to you, that wasn’t me. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’re an asshole. That’s what came over you.”
“I know,” I said. “If I could take it back, I would.”
“Looks like you got taught a lesson,” she said, looking at my bruises.
“I deserve a lot worse,” I said.
She smiled, and I felt it again, the rush of emotion that this girl somehow managed to stir up in me every time I saw her. I hadn’t felt this way since … since…
“Would have been nice if one of those guys got you in the nuts,” she said.
I burst out laughing. I hadn’t laughed since…
“I’m not sure I was that bad.”
“Oh, you were. You were worse. You basically tried to fat shame me. You know how chauvinistic that is?”
“Chauvinistic?”
“Yeah. It’s a big word for when guys are complete pricks to women.”
“Oh, God. I know I came across that way,” I said, bowing my head in shame. “God, all I can say is I’m really sorry. I’m really not like that.”
“Except when you’re drunk?”
“Not even when I’m drunk. Honestly. I actually find it attractive when women eat. I never want to see my girl pick at a salad when she wants a cheeseburger.”
“It’s not about food.”
“I know. It’s about everything. I was a jerk. I admit it. Please can you give me a second chance?”
She looked at me and again, the rush of emotion came pouring over me. I winked at her.
Winked!
Me!
I don’t wink at anyone. I’m the guy who’s supposed to be suicidal. I do not flirt.
She turned pink with embarrassment and looked away. When she looked back she was blushing.
“Hah,” she said, “Yeah. Whenever I order salad, I’m always disappointed and end up eating a bag of chips or something afterward.”
I smiled. I could picture girls doing that. I should have left things there but I took a step closer to her and reached out my hand.
“My name is Kane,” I said.
“Meadow,” she said, taking my hand.
I gave her a look, asking if it would be okay to sit with her, and she nodded.
“I was actually hoping I’d run into you again,” she said.
“So you could kick me in the nuts yourself?”
She laughed.
“Yeah that, but also because I wanted to apologize too.”
“Oh, you don’t need to apologize.”
“Well, I had an awful day yesterday and I probably could have handled myself better.”
“You handled yourself just fine. I was the one who attacked you.”
“Well, just so you know, ordinarily I wouldn’t have reacted so harshly.”
I let out a sigh.
“Truce?” I said.
“Truce,” she said with a smile like I’d never seen before.
Looking into her face was like looking at the sun over the ocean. It was the most beautiful thing imaginable.
“So Kane, you’re a surfer?”
“Yeah, you can tell huh?”
“Well, I went for a drive this morning and I stopped to take in the view of the ocean. I recognized you down on the beach, heading out in the water on your board. You were carrying two wild flowers. I watched as you paddled out with them and placed them in the water. It was beautiful. A really touching moment. Like a scene out of a movie.”
A knot formed in my throat. Oh God. Who was I kidding? I wasn’t ready for this.
“Kane?” she said. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. It’s just.”
“Just what?”
I stood up but I rushed and accidentally knocked over my seat behind me.
“Here we go again,” Meadow said, looking up at me in complete surprise.
“It’s …” I stammered, trying to think of something to say.
“What’s wrong with you?” she said.
“That moment was private.”
I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there. I picked up my chair but it got stuck under the table and I couldn’t get it free. I pulled and pushed at it harder as the leg pulled the entire table and Meadow’s coffee spilled.
She leapt up to avoid getting burned.
“You’re a loose canon,” she said.
I couldn’t believe I was creating another scene. I looked into Meadow’s face and she was crying. Great. Second day in a row I messed up her life.
“Kane, what the fuck?” Sandra called across the room.
Everyone was looking at me again.
“What are you even doing in this town?” I said to Meadow.
I wasn’t yelling but I was close to it.
“You should go back to wherever the fuck you came from.”
I stormed out of the place before Sandra had to kick me out, slamming the door behind me.
CHAPTER 15
KANE
Diary Entry
I see you sitting at a table in a restaurant and you know what I imagine doing? You want to know the truth? It sounds crazy, but I think, what if that table had a tablecloth? A long, white tablecloth.
Something that goes from the table, all the way to the ground.
I’d like to see you sitting at that table in broad daylight, in a busy, public restaurant. Lots of people around. There’s a waiter coming to your table to take your order and bring your food. There’s another waiter who brings you a bottle of wine. There’s a couple sitting at the table next to you, having a date. They’re talking to each other but every now and then, the guy looks across at you and checks you out.
It’s a fancy restaurant and you’re dressed to impress. You’ve got on a white blouse. A navy blue blazer. And a very short, very tasteful skirt. You’re sitting at the table, your legs crossed under the tablecloth, and you’re trying to mind your own
business and not draw the attention of the other people in the restaurant.
Of course you don’t want to draw their attention. You’re a woman eating alone in a fancy restaurant and it’s awkward for you. You’re shy. You’re not used to being in this situation.
And then something happens that gives you the fright of your life. You feel a movement beneath the table cloth. Something brushes against your bare leg. Something’s down there!
You stifle a cry, still worried about drawing attention, and peer under the tablecloth.
I don’t know what you expected to find down there, but what you see is me!
That’s right. You’re sitting in this fancy, formal restaurant, there are people everywhere, and I’m beneath your table.
You don’t know me. You recognize me, you’ve seen me before, but you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’m doing down there, how I got there, or what it means for you. All you know is that I’m there, dressed in a black suit with a white shirt, and I’ve got my finger in front of my lips, telling you to be quiet.
“What’s going on?” you say.
“Shh,” I say.
I take the tablecloth from your fingers and pull it back down so it covers your legs perfectly, concealing everything beneath the table. I notice you squirm a little but that’s all part of the fun. You’re uncomfortable. You’re shy. You have no idea what I’m doing down there or what’s about to happen.
Slowly, I run my hands along the bare skin of your legs. Your skin is smooth and soft. So perfect. So tempting.
I force you to uncross your legs. You resist at first but I know you’re still afraid of making a scene in the restaurant. You don’t want anyone to know something’s going on. You’re too proper. Too polite to create a stir.
You uncross your legs so that you’re sitting with your feet flat on the floor, your legs going straight down. Just the way I want you.
I recheck to make sure the table cloth is perfectly straight, concealing me. Then I wait. I wait for the waiter to come back.
I know he’s back because your posture changes. You sit up straight, always the good, polite girl, and you talk to him just the way you’re suppose to.
“Is everything all right with your meal, madam?” the waiter says.
“Yes, perfect.”
“Can I bring you anything else.”
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