by Stefani, Z.
“I can’t get close enough to you.” His frustration ran deep, and he was beginning to feel panicky.
She turned around to face him and wrapped her legs around him. With one arm wrapped around her, he slid his other hand down her back and straight to her sex. He slid the tip of his middle finger back inside of her as he pressed her body closer to his. He finally felt sated when she squeezed him tighter.
They stayed like that for a long time; long after the water had gotten cold. They didn’t want to let go of one another; they didn’t want to move, and they didn’t want to break the moment. It was the most comfort they’d had since the whole ordeal with Gavin started.
“We should probably get some rest,” he said when he finally moved. He sat up, still holding her tightly. With his finger still inside of her, he used his legs to stand up and carefully get out of the tub.
He grabbed the towels, and laid one on the settee before setting her on top of it. He quickly wrapped the towel around his waist and knelt before her. He began carefully to dry her off. When he was done, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. He sat her on the bed and grabbed her nightclothes.
Julian handed her the shorts and a tank top, but Heaven only grabbed the shorts. He grabbed his own boxer shorts and slipped them on. He then jumped into the bed next to her and pulled her against his large chest.
“You need to get some rest,” he whispered as he brushed her hair back from her face.
Heaven lay against his chest and sighed deeply. Her head was pounding, and she was sure she was still suffering from shock, but she felt safe knowing he was close. She was exhausted, but despite everything they had been through, Julian didn’t seem the least bit tired.
After an hour, Julian finally got Heaven calmed down enough to sleep. He lay next to her, rubbing her back long after she had fallen asleep. He couldn’t sleep, and he didn’t want to take his eyes off her.
He finally pulled away from her and grabbed his cell phone. He called his cousin to make sure that everything was all right. After Julius informed him that everything was fine, Julian walked towards the bed. He had just gotten comfortable next to her when Heaven woke up screaming. He grabbed her and held her tight, but she tried to fight him.
“No!” she screeched, her eyes closed.
“It’s me, baby…it’s Julian,” he said, and his words managed to break through to her. He watched her eyes focus on him, and she began to cry. He held her tightly.
“Gavin sent me those texts again; he was inside the room. He got me—” she cried.
“Shush, no babe, he’s not here; it was just a dream. You’re safe.” He pulled her head back and could tell by her unfocused eyes that she was still foggy from sleep.
“It seemed so real,” she sighed in relief.
“It wasn’t…it was just a bad dream. The gun under the mattress is real. Me firing five shots into anyone who comes near you—is real,” he finished.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered as her lids grew heavy.
“You know that I won’t.” He lay down with her and held her close.
She snuggled into him and kissed his chest, before closing her eyes and drifting back to sleep.
***
Julian’s cousin Julius stood on the opposite side of the gate from Ian.
“I don’t think now is a good time,” Julius explained to his cousin.
“I just want to help,” Ian said with desperation.
“Why the sudden concern? You hate your brother.” Julius eyed Ian suspiciously. Julian and Ian’s mutual hatred was common knowledge among their family.
“My little brother was almost murdered by our psychopathic co-worker. A co-worker who happens to be my half-brother. I almost lost my real brother—that changes the dynamics. That changes everything.”
“Call Julian. I’m not letting you in without his permission,” Julius insisted.
“Tell him I was here,” Ian said before he stormed back to his car.
Ian wasn’t sure how he felt. He was scared for his brother. He had felt this same fear once before, when they were children. Gavin’s attempt to murder Julian brought back the old memories that he had forced himself to forget.
As a boy, Ian had discovered that it was easier to hate his little brother than it was to defy his mother. He had tried to help him in the very beginning, but Julia, his mother, quickly put an end to that. She’d taught him that defending Julian only meant the punishment was automatically redesignated to Ian. The punishments were severe enough that Ian resented Julian and regretted helping him.
He'd also received a few beatings even when he wasn't trying to help Julian. If Julia so much as suspected Ian of helping his little brother, she would punish him severely.
With each beating, Ian’s hatred grew.
Ian decided to sleep in his car and keep an eye on Julian’s house. Julian didn’t deserve this; none of them did. Ian was aware that his sudden concern would seem insincere, but he didn’t care. His brother almost died. All Ian could think about was the nasty things he had done to his little brother. He couldn’t live with the reality that if his brother died, he would die thinking that Ian hated him.
“Death really puts things into perspective,” Ian whispered to himself as he got comfortable in the front seat of his car.
Mother of the Year
Julia King stared at her husband with a look of hatred distorting her features. Her pale eyes narrowed as she pursed her red painted lips. She stood before him seething with rage, her body tense. Her commonsense and self-control were dissipating by the moment.
“You’re a horrible, disgusting man, and I regret the day I met you! You’ve made me the laughing stock of the neighborhood! I hate you!” Julia shrieked at Ayden.
“I know,” Ayden answered as he began shoving clothes into his duffle bag.
“What are you doing?” she screeched at him.
“I’m leaving.”
“No, you’re not; you’re not that stupid. You can’t divorce me; you know I will take you for all you’re worth.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Not only are you a serial cheater, but you had a child out of wedlock with one of your whores. A child who tried to murder my son. You won’t have a dime to your name by the time I’m done with you.”
“The son you have always resented,” Ayden reminded her.
“That’s irrelevant; besides—you can’t prove it. I’ve got you by the balls, Ayden; you’re not going anywhere.”
“Don’t forget that I have hundreds of pictures of you with your various boyfriends over the years. I even have pictures from the first year we were married. Remember your old high school boyfriend? You had a hard time letting go of him. I think you would even have married him if he weren’t broke.”
“You leave him out of this!”
“You won’t get a cent from me.”
“Let’s not forget about May, the woman who took a dive off a hill the night we renewed our wedding vows. Or the psychotic love-child the two of you had,” Julia reminded him.
“I had sex with May after I found out about your tryst with your high school sweetheart. We’ll let our lawyers debate the rest.”
“You’re not leaving; I won’t give you a divorce!” She folded her arms across her chest with a look of pure determination.
“I’ve already filed the paperwork. It’s going to be the fastest divorce in history.” Ayden zipped up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. “I even have all the documentation for your numerous abortions. As well as the boyfriends you took with you to the procedures.”
Julia felt her rage begin to bubble inside of her. She realized he was right—they’d both repeatedly committed adultery. Neither of them had ever been faithful. She had been with one of her lovers when she found out what happened to Julian. Julia kept a gun in her purse for protection since her current lover lived in an unsafe area. Right now, she was more thankful for that gun than anything else.
With a quick, steady hand, Julia withdrew the small handgun from her purse.
“Do you honestly think that I would let you divorce me and take away all of my money? I’d kill you before I let that happen,” she threatened.
“Be reasonable, Julia; you’ll never get away with it.”
“Your untimely death sounds more than reasonable to me. I’ll bury your body in the backyard and then collect my money. The police will assume it’s connected to Gavin—your murderous, bastard son,” she sneered.
“Put down the gun,” he demanded, but she held the gun firmly in her hand.
“I want to shoot you so badly,” she admitted, itching to pull the trigger. “How could you do this to me? You’ve humiliated me in front of everyone! All of my friends are laughing at me. Do you have any idea what’s it’s like to know that your husband’s bastard child with an unstable woman grew up to be a homicidal maniac? I will never forgive you for what you’ve done to me! You have destroyed me!”
“You? What about Julian? Don’t you even care that your son was almost murdered tonight?” he raged, despite the fact that she had a loaded gun pointed at him.
“Why should I waste my time worrying about Julian when he’s never worried about me?” she asked childishly, and Ayden frowned. “Besides, Julian is fine, he’s not dead. He doesn’t care what people think of him. He doesn’t care about anything or anyone and especially not me—he never has.”
“I wonder why that is?” Ayden sneered, knowing that he and his wife were the cause of Julian’s self-destructive behavior over the years. If only he hadn’t been too blind to see it.
“Because he is a selfish, evil prick who cares for nothing but himself—just like his father. There is too much of you in him. Maybe what happened to Julian will teach him that he isn’t invincible; he can learn from this. I, on the other hand, could never benefit from this horror; I am the true victim here. I will never recover from the shame!”
“You really don’t care about your son, do you?” Ayden observed. He shouldn’t be shocked; he knew how callous his wife was. However, he was surprised. He’d hoped the knowledge that she had almost lost her son would break through her selfishness. He’d hoped wrong.
He was always wrong when it came to his wife.
“If he died, at least I’d get sympathy instead of being humiliated,” Julia hissed and Ayden gasped, despite himself.
“You really are evil, Julia. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.” He was aghast, wishing he had listened to his son. If he’d known her hatred was so pure, he would have divorced her years ago. He worked so much that he was never around to see the true Julia. He’d seen flashes of her evilness over the years, but she always begged for forgiveness. He was always foolish enough to believe she could change.
“Not evil; I’m logical and self-preserving. In fact, if you were dead, I would become legendary in this city. I’ll be the richest widow, and the queen within my circle of friends.”
“You’re sick and delusional.”
“And you’re dead,” Julia said calmly as she closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.
She hated Ayden, and she always had. She hated him so much now, that she was past the point of reason and was willing to risk her freedom for his death. When she married him, she’d foolishly assumed that his money would eventually help her fall in love with him. It never did. She loved his money, but she’d always wanted him out of the picture. She had tried to make her life bearable, but his presence continually ruined it. Ayden was hard to control. He knew his worth and refused to bow to her demands.
The only time Ayden was malleable was when it came to his sons. She had learned how to control Ayden through them. It had worked for a long time until Julian tattled and told his father of the things she had done. After the threat of divorce from Ayden and a promise to be kind to Julian from her, they eventually reconciled.
Now she didn’t want to work things out anymore—she wanted him dead. She had found a loophole; the perfect way to get out of the marriage she despised. Gavin Grant would come in handy after all.
If by some remote chance the police suspected her, she had a foolproof plan. With everything she had been through, she knew a good lawyer would be able to prove that she suffered from temporary insanity due to traumatic events.
She watched as Ayden fell limply to the floor. She took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. She kicked him with the pointy toe of her overpriced shoes. When he didn’t move, she was satisfied that he was dead and smiled widely.
“I am going to cut you into pieces and stuff you in garbage bags. Then I’m going to drop you off at Gavin Grant’s old house. I’m sure there’s a nice hiding spot there somewhere. The police will assume he had an accomplice, and that accomplice got revenge,” she spoke to his body. She took another deep breath before she turned around and walked out into the kitchen. She grabbed the large construction garbage bags, her electric kitchen knife and a handful of other assorted knives. She took everything into the bathroom and set it up.
Julia walked back into the living room to retrieve her husband’s body. She gasped when she walked in; there was a small pool of blood on the white carpet—but Ayden was gone. Julia instantly began to panic. She would need a damned good lie for this one.
Ayden ran out to his car. His vision was slightly blurred, and his balance was off; his head and his arm were burning where the bullets had touched the skin. He made it to his car and managed to pull off before he saw Julia run out of the house. He stepped on the gas and sped off the property, knowing that his wife would only be interested in finishing the job now. He knew from her little speech when she thought he was dead that she was in too deep to turn back.
One of the bullets had grazed the side of his head, causing a superficial wound. The other one had lodged itself in his right forearm. He was thankful that his wife had closed her eyes before aiming; he was also thankful that she was such a bad shot. She hadn’t seen where the bullets went, so she had no idea that he wasn’t dead. He had played dead until she left the room, but the second she was gone, he ran for it.
Now, he sped down the road, heading straight for the hospital. He dialed the police and let them know that his wife had shot him.
***
Julia was drunk and resisted arrest with as much dignity as she could. She tried not to look at the shocked faces of her neighbors as the officers led her to the car in handcuffs. She bowed her head in humiliation, wishing she could hide away from the growing crowd.
“I should have kept my eyes opened when I aimed,” she hissed to herself on the way to the county jail.
It was her only regret.
***
The sun’s bright morning light blinded Heaven as she opened her eyes. She moaned as the pain in her head greeted her good morning. She was not expecting that. The nurse and the doctor had warned her that she would feel worse come morning, but she hadn’t fully believed them. She had a headache after it happened, but it didn’t hurt enough to prepare her for this.
“Careful baby, no quick movements. How do you feel?” Julian asked as he began to rub her back.
“My head, my eye…the light,” she cried, unable to finish her words. Her voice was barely above a whisper. She tried to sit up, but Julian stopped her.
“Wait; just lay still for a minute,” he instructed as he jumped up. He quickly closed the drapes and clouded the room with early-morning shadows.
He snatched the bottle of pain medication off her dresser, grabbed a bottle of water and opened it before he headed back to her. He sat next to her and gently helped her sit up.
“Open up,” he instructed as he held the pill between his fingers. She opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. He laid the pill on her tongue, and she promptly swallowed. He then held the bottle of water to her lips as she drank.
“Thank you.”
“How do you feel now?” he asked again, hoping the dim light helped.
“My head is pounding, and my cheek
feels as if it’s cracked; even my eye hurts.” She leaned against him.
He wrapped his arms around her, and kissed the top of her forehead. “I want you to lay back down and rest until your soup gets here.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“You need to eat.” He eased her down on the bed and gently covered her with the blanket. He smoothed the hair back from her face as she closed her eyes. “I’m going to check on the food—“
