by Jamie Knight
What if I had fucked and deflowered her then? Would we have stayed together? Would we be happily married with kids by now?
It was impossible to know for sure of course but it was still a nice thought. That maybe I wasn't irrevocably self-centred and awful.
If only.
If only I had been able to see what was right there, staring in my face. While doing her best to suck my cock. I think it might have been love.
I got out my phone and dialed her number. It went right to a message saying that the number was no longer in service. Certain I had gotten it wrong, I found her number on my contacts list and did that way. I got the same message.
The same would be true for the texts, so there was no point in trying that. Something I tried to remind myself of as I tried that anyway, of course getting a message not sent alert. I brought the phone back up and dialed the servants’ quarters.
"Sarah, bring the car around please."
It was nearly six, so Kora would likely be home from work. My knees shook as the limo moved through the late rush hour traffic, the few stragglers left over from the main event. There were always a few.
I had written the building number down on my phone. I didn't have the apartment number but it was a controlled entrance anyway. Rich as I was, there were limits to what I could do. Even billionaires didn't really have the ability to just pop up anywhere at anytime, like some seemed to believe. Rich as we may be, teleportation technology was still a quite elusive thing.
There was no tenants’ list next to the buzzer. Instead, I had to press the hashtag key for the on-screen directory and scroll down to the Es. No Evans. I checked twice.
Had she really moved just to avoid me?
I tapped the breaks on my ego before things got too far. Yes, she had obviously moved but there was no reason to think that it was because of me. Or at least because she was avoiding me. It was fairly safe to assume that she had other things going on in her life.
"Any luck?" Sarah asked, as I got into the back.
"I don't believe in luck," I said, getting a bottle of Irish stout from the mini fridge.
"Right, I forgot," Sarah said.
"I'll let it slide," I said, taking a sip.
"Where to now?"
"Suicide Notes."
Suicide Notes was the only record store in town that stocked vinyl in any significant way. The big box stores did too, of course, cashing in on what they saw as a trend. But they didn't have anything that was more than two years old, which was fine if you liked that kind of thing, or cost less than $50.
I could afford it. Of course I could. I could literally buy the store if I wanted to. It was the principle of the thing. I firmly believed in supporting small businesses. Especially when they were awesome.
I was usually pretty discerning when it came to records. Even though the term "collector" tended to set my teeth on edge. Not today, though. I was on what could be considered a binge, taking two or three of everything from my favorite sections.
"Wow," said the clerk, as I hauled the tower of records up to counter. "Did you win the lottery?"
"Something like that." I said.
The records made an audible thump on the wooden counter as I set them down.
I hurried to pay or them as quickly as I could.
"Don't expect me to help you in with those," Sarah said, when I got back to the limo, as I set the stack of records across the seat opposite mine.
"Not at all; just open the doors for me."
"Aye, aye."
With Sarah's help on door duty, I got the records into the parlor.
"I'll go park the limo," Sarah said, heading back out.
I could see her smirk, despite her attempts to hide it. I didn't really mind. It really was funny, for a particular perspective. A solid testament to my obsession manifest on the coffee table.
Slowly, I put myself to the task of putting the new records in their proper place in my carefully designed filing system that made the Dewey Decimal system look chaotic.
When it was done, I looked over at my handiwork, feeling an odd sense of pride. I thought of the times I had brought Kora in here. Three in all and what had happened after, in one case, in there.
I could feel a swelling in my pants. I did my best to ignore it. There was really no good that could come of it. It was kind of like torture, to want her so bad but only have my thoughts of her and my own hand.
Chapter Nineteen - Logan
Pouring out a Vodka Gears at the mini bar counter, trying to not to think about how frequently I’d been making them these days, I strolled back over to my record collection, or as close to strolling as I could get, while sipping from the tumbler.
Pulling a record from its spot, I went over to the turn table and slid the metal spite through the little hole. Gently setting the arm, I put the needle down in the first groove as it went spinning by.
I stood listening for a moment, sipping my Vodka Gears, listening to the melodies,
feeling the rhythm section in the hardwood floor. I casually put my other hand in my pocket, finding the Stanley knife I had put there earlier in the day during work.
I had been in the store room opening a new shipment of life-jackets. I must have forgotten. Still listening and sipping, I went over to one of the chairs and sat down.
Eventually, I pulled my phone out of my inside pocket and carefully, with a shaking thumb, dialled Kristen's number.
It took five rings for her to pick up.
That was okay. I had some time.
"Hello?"
"Hey, dumpling," I said.
"Hi," she said, flatly.
"How's my baby sister?"
"I'm not that much younger," she pointed out, having gotten a bit prickly about the baby sister thing since growing up.
"Touché," I said.
"What's up?"
"Have you heard from Kora recently?" I asked.
"Sure."
"She changed her number," I said.
"Yes," Kristen said.
"And her address," I said.
"Indeed," Kristen confirmed.
"Do you know what the new ones are?"
"The number, yeah," Kristen said.
"I need help. I-I can't -"
"I'll try but I don't want to drive Kora away. Not now that we are finally back together."
"That's what dad said, too," I said.
"He is pretty smart, you know," Kristen said, softening.
"Yeah."
"Was it his idea to give me a quarter of the company?"
"No, it was mine. He supported it though. It's no big deal. I still have half of the shares I wanted, after I gave dad his half."
"Why?"
"It's your due. You were his grandkid, too. You worked as hard as I did at the sailing business, especially at the beginning, before he started pushing you out."
"I got those paintings and candelabras.'
"But you weren't an heir. He shortchanged you and cut dad out. And I let him. I should have said something. I'm just putting things right…"
"You really couldn’t have known -"
"Kristen?" I said, starting to feel light headed.
"Yeah?"
"How would you feel about having fifty percent?"
"I don't -"
"I need help," I said again, softer this time.
"Logan?"
"Yes, dumpling?"
"What are you listening to?"
"'Don't Fear the Reaper.'"
"I'll be there as soon as I can; just hold on, okay?"
Chapter Twenty - Kora
I squeezed out more lotion from the dispenser strapped to my hip. One of the key skills required of a masseuse.
I was learning a lot in the training course. I had worked with masseuses, in the sense that we were both in the same building for the last couple of years. I thought I knew what they did. I thought it was easy. I had no idea.
If it wasn't for Erik helping me, I probably would ha
ve flunked out months ago. He really was a good friend. It was nice to know there was still someone who cared.
I moved around the table, being very careful of my baby bump. I had knocked it against the edge of the table a few times when I was just starting as a trainee at the spa. The doctor had done an ultrasound— I was taking absolutely no chances— and said there was no harm done but that I should be a bit more careful.
So I was. Extremely careful, often giving myself a good deal more room than I needed when moving around the table. Sometimes only having my fingertips touching the client.
I also had to be mindful of my boobs, which had indeed gotten bigger than they were before, with the added bonus of also making them extremely sensitive. I'd had to stop wearing a bra, getting special permission to wear a black shirt rather than the standard-issue white.
It had been a pretty easy pregnancy so far, all in all. The morning sickness had hit hard but didn't stay around long. My change of diet focusing almost exclusively on crackers and ginger ale no doubt helped.
The baby hadn't started moving yet but everyone I asked said it would soon. I was five months pregnant and not sure what she was waiting for when it came to starting to move around in there enough for me to feel it, but I could wait, even though I was really looking forward to it.
I finished with the client I was massaging. And turned to wipe off my hands as he got up and put on his pants. I left as he finished dressing, going out into the waiting room.
"Kora?"
"Fuck."
I didn't actually say that, but I sure did think it. I didn't know what else I was supposed to do when I saw Kristen sitting there, pretty as a picture.
I hadn't seen her for months. Not since she had called me on the new number I had given her in confidence and with the understanding we had agreed upon, and mentioned Logan's name. I had hung up and applied to have my number changed again, glad I hadn't told her where I had moved.
"I-I didn't -"
"What are you doing here?" I asked, trying to stay professional.
"I'm waiting for a massage appointment. I've been coming here for months. After I'd called to make sure you didn't work here anymore. As a receptionist, that is. I didn't know that you were a masseuse here now. I swear.”
"Why would you?” I asked her, realizing that fate had brought us together again. “Sorry, that was mean of me to imply. You deserve the truth, if nothing else. I just really think it is more important to focus on my future rather than the past."
"I understand that. Honestly, I do," Kristen said, getting up and coming over.
I backed a way without thinking about it. She stopped, holding up her hands as though in surrender. She even took a step back but didn't go and sit back down. Typical parter tenacity.
"I'm sorry our friendship didn't work out this time either. Especially because it was for basically the same reason. I hate to think that -"
She stopped catching sight of my baby girl bump. She stared at it for a long moment as though hypnotized. I covered it with both hands protectively, turning away from her.
"A-are you pregnant?" she asked.
"I-"
"Does Logan-"
I didn't hear the rest. I had started running away. It wasn't professional but that was what I did. I didn't care about getting fired or whatever happened to trainees when they went off the rails.
My stomach heaved and I felt the need to vomit. I went out the back exit and got in my car, pounding down ginger ale until the feeling subsided.
Fumbling the CD case from the glove compartment, I searched for the relaxation program Erik had recommended when my pregnancy became too obvious to ignore. He had said it had worked wonders for his wife, both during her pregnancy and afterwards.
I pulled the disk out of the plastic sleeve and slid it into the car's CD player, starting the car up first. Turning on the heater up to full. One of the downsides to pregnancy was that it played merry hell with my core temperature.
The engine ran and the CD spun and I breathed deep and regular, trying to banish all thoughts of Logan from my head. I wasn't going to think about how much I still loved him. Or how much it hurt.
I refused to acknowledge how much a large part of me wished we could be together. For the baby, if nothing else. I also didn't think about what had happened. The rejection. The hurt.
I was determined not to get caught up in the past. My mind, betraying me again, started thinking about the present-ish. The amazing sex. The thoughtful gift to his sister, my best friend no less. The fact that the innocent life growing inside of me was part of Logan.
I forced myself to focus on the CD. The calming sounds. The gentle, affirming voice, punctuating with the firm, ringing taps of a singing bowl. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.
I wrapped my arms around my belly. The baby started kicking. Tears of joy mixing with the tears of sadness.
Chapter Twenty-One - Logan
I liked to look out the window as I ran. It gave me an impression of running through the sky if I got just the right angle. Not that I had any Superman aspirations or illusions. It was just a cool effect.
I had the exercise room put in when I moved into this place, grandpa having had no such interest. His idea of exercise was golfing with a cart. It was amazing he managed to stay so thin. Not surprising he had died from a heart attack at age 62. An age now considered tragically young.
I could kind of see it. He didn't even live long enough to get unnecessary money from the government.
I liked to do the full circuit at least once a day. My record until recently had been three times. Since what happened with Kora though, it had increased quite a bit. I was beginning my eighth circuit of the day. And it was only noon. My choice not to jerk off to memories of Kora caused my sexual energy to redirect itself into self-abuse of a different kind.
My sneakers pounded against the track of the treadmill, the most brutal Black Metal Norway had to offer blasting in my earbuds, shaking my eyes and ratting my brain as I tried to forget. Not only what had happened with me and Kora but the effect it had on Kristen and their friendship. Not once but twice.
Losing Kora still hurt like a branding iron, but I wasn't nearly selfish enough not to know I was the only one in pain.
The machine cooled down as I was slowing to a walk. I slammed a Vodka Gears from the cup holder built into the support bar.
"Speak of the devil," I said, as Kristen came barging in.
"What?"
"Nothing," I said, taking out my ear buds.
"Wasps in a tin can?" she asked, the sound still emanating from the tiny speakers around my neck.
"Mayhem," I said.
"Sounds like it," she said.
I fought down the urge to laugh, not sure if she was kidding or not. At least with dad his confusion was obviously genuine.
"Listen," Kristen said.
"Uh oh," I said.
"What?"
"Last time you said listen, I ended up bleeding from the head."
"The guy was really getting rape-y. I didn't know he was going to hit you with a chair. Especially not the one he was sitting on at the time."
"It really was quite a trick," I agreed.
"And the bouncer had already called the cops so it was mostly just a matter of stalling him until they arrived."
"By acting as a target," I said.
"Can you imagine what he would have done to me if given the chance?"
"Yes, better than you can guess, and I would have killed him. After I had hunted him down anyway."
"You quite nearly did at the time," Kristen said.
"I know! How the cops could have thought I was the perp is beyond me."
"They probably thought all the blood was his."
"As opposed to most of it," I said, seeing her point.
"I've never seen a human head jerk like that."
"I was angry about the chair. Not too happy about you, either, but I had mostly just been trying to hold him in chec
k."
"That’s understandable," Kristen said, not seeming to take any offense.
"It was the chair that unleashed the beast," I said.
"Good thing the paramedics were able to revive him, so it was just an assault charge."
"'Just' being a relative term."
"True enough," Kristen said. "But I actually need to talk to you, okay?"
"Aren't we talking now?"
"I mean seriously."
"Oh.”
We went and sat on the wide sill of the picture window. It had been a while since I had seen Kristen be that serious. I braced myself for something truly terrible.
"I saw Kora," she said.
"Oh," I said, about ten different emotions knocking their heads together at once.
"It was an accident. It was at the spa. I'd been going there for months but was actually trying to avoid her, if I’m being honest, making sure she was no longer there, and I thought she was long gone, but there she was. She had gone from receptionist to trainee masseuse," Kristen said.
"The fates can be strange sometimes," I said.
"Or just cruel bitches," Kristen muttered.
"Yeah, that too," I agreed.
"Anyway, I think she was in a bad way. It wasn't exactly a tearful reunion or anything. No hugging or crying or vows to never part again. She hardly said anything, if I'm honest."
"Then how do you know she was in a bad way?" I asked.
"It was, er, pretty obvious, just, you know, by looking at her. I really thing you should try to get into contact with her if you can. I know I'm overstepping here, but it is really important and I get the feeling that she might need you right now more than you know or she is willing to admit."
"Oh, shit," I said, doing the math in my head.
I could tell what Kristen was referring to without having to ask her to spell it out.
I was really thrilled to be a dad. I'd always wanted kids. It was one of the few things in live of which I was always certain.
The fact that it was Kora, the only woman I had ever really loved, carrying that baby was more good than bad, even under the circumstances. Kristen was right. I had to at least try to talk to Kora.
