The Devil's Intended-Love & Evil In Palm Beach
Page 27
on the hood as he walked past it. While unzipping his pants, he nudged Kristen towards a tall hedge at the side of the parking lot. “No, no” Kristen scolded. “Not here, not here.”
Without a word, Gregory went back to his car and loaded Kristen into it. He kept the windows rolled down and they drove off at a high speed. Kristen noticed a tattered piece of black lace on his rearview mirror that was flapping wildly in the wind. She pointed at it “What’s that?” Gregory looked towards it. “Oh, that’s just something from my sister’s wedding.” Kristen laughed “She wore a black dress?” Gregory looked uncomfortable and twirled his finger around it to roll it back up and tucked it out of sight behind the mirror.
They continued towards his estate which was located at the end of the island. They arrived at the gates in less than five minutes. Gregory kept his arm tightly around Kristen as they walked through the front door. The house was very dark looking, both inside and out. The pitted wooden walls were painted brown and reminded Kristen of an old ship’s galley. Rustic chandeliers hung in all of the rooms. Although it was immaculately decorated, it still looked very sterile, like no one actually lived there.
He began pulling off her party dress and it slid to the foyer floor. Gregory led her upstairs and into a room with a large Victorian bed. He pushed her down and propped the satin pillows underneath her legs. He then stroked her deeply until he had her completely inflamed and then thrusted himself forward. His rigid loins moved her body with unrelenting passion up against the headboard. He withdrew slowly as he teased her with his fingers until she sat up and pulled him back into her. Her muscles stretched and clamped onto him like a vice. Kristen moaned as the sensation overwhelmed her and they both ascended to a shattering finish. “Oh my God” she cried out! Kristen lay there breathing heavily. Gregory arrogantly said “I’m a bit much to handle. Aren’t I?” He knew he had her under his spell.
He suddenly jumped up and said “Let’s go. I want to get back to the club and find another girl or two to have a second tumble with. Maybe you can join us.” He left her alone on the bed as he went downstairs.
She continued lying helpless on the sheets. “Kristen? Are you coming down? Chop, Chop girl!” Minutes later, Kristen joined him. Feeling unsteady, she slowly gathered her dress from the floor and put it on. He tried to reach for her to kiss her and she turned away. She said “Too bad Gregory, guess you are just like the rest of them. I thought you were different.”
He laughed and said “I’m just getting started. There are a lot of beautiful women on this island and they all want me.”
Kristen didn’t think he was amusing and refused to talk to him on the drive back to the club. She thought maybe it was better if she did lose her powerful attraction to him. He was not good for her.
When they pulled up, Kristen just wanted to call her friends to meet her outside and then leave. But he put his arm around her waist and made her go back into the night spot. It was almost 3 AM and there were even more people there now. Gregory bought her some shots and she warmed up to him slightly. He was all over her and it was obvious that he would be bringing her back to his place again for the night. He was just teasing her earlier.
They maneuvered themselves back onto the floor and he held her close to him as the music played a slow dance. She could still feel his raw heat between her legs from earlier and was ready for him again. She laid her head on his shoulder and buried her nose into his neck as she closed her eyes and gently moved her body with his.
“You SLIMY RUNT!” Kristen was abruptly pushed to the side as a tall dark-haired woman screamed and started pounding on Gregory with her fists. She reached over to a near-by table, grabbing a full glass of red wine and threw it at his head.
Gregory had no time to duck and his white clothes were soaked with stains. He retreated from the floor pulling the offender with him. They disappeared into the shadows.
Kristen walked behind them but couldn’t keep up and didn’t see which room they walked off to. Gregory had vanished almost as quickly as he had emerged back into her life a few hours earlier. Hoping to catch a glimpse of him, and get an explanation out of him, she drove by Gregory's house the next day. With the assistance of daylight, she was surprised to see that it was right next to the Whitestone Country Club. In fact, it was on its property.
In the following weeks she didn’t see him out at any of the places on or off Palm Beach. She wondered if he was married to that woman and if that creepy mansion belonged to her. She recalled what her landlord said about him when she first met Gregory at Club Colette. Maybe he was someone that she should keep away from. Kristen always believed when things happened, they were meant to be. She also hoped she would know when someone was bad for her. Unfortunately, she was still working on that talent and had a long way to go.
12 THE WHITESTONE
The Whitestone was located at the end of Palm Beach on a small bluff. It was built right next to what was fondly called Hell’s Tunnel, a deep vortex in the ocean which was considered by some to be an endless energy source. There had always been the belief that the tunnel had no bottom to it, and that the past inhabitants, mythical, ideological, or otherwise, offered up their human sacrifices to the volatile waters in order to be sucked into the hole to feed the demons below.
The present-day members kept their yachts moored at the docks by an entrance carved into the rocks that led to the lower cavern of the club. It gave them the special mobility to enter and leave with their guests without being noticed.
The club had always followed a strict protocol. It was exclusively male, no exceptions. Its initiates were selected at an early age and mentored to ensure their entrance to the finest schools, and then onto the exalted positions throughout the world. Often, the Whitestone key was passed down from father to son. It was obvious through the ages that the public had never been allowed to have a say with what went on behind the scenes with these top decision makers. It was always left up to the master plan.
The Black Veil Society was the driving force behind the club. They were the true fallen angels and their blood lines were impeccable. Brandishing their gold-star spouses and scrubbed spot-free backgrounds, it would seem that these individuals were intentionally superficial; almost as if they were created or molded by an outside entity. And in return for their good fortune, they were consistent in paying homage to the club’s enigmatic founder. His dark prophecies structured their lives.
As the regular club members conducted their daily and mundane social rituals, The Black Veil had their own dark rites. And, in essence, the club served mostly as a front for those activities that occurred in the shadows. The Black Veil members were only concerned with maintaining their power and status and were banded together by their unique tastes. When it came to The Black Veil’s partners, there were those who were tried out and then cast off, as readily as the men used the universe and everything else in their lives. On the long way down, the search for their final companion was exhaustive until the special one was found who touched their thorny hearts. As for the rest, they merely served as sweet sacrificial lambs.
The lowest section of the Whitestone building was at sea level and contained the club’s boardroom. It featured only a long wooden table and four empty chairs. To the east, a large wooden door opened directly out to the ocean. Within those confining walls, judgments were passed and absolutions granted. A long winding staircase led to another cavern below. No one knew of its existence or purpose except The Black Veil.
Kristen innocently carried on with her life on the island. There was not much left that surprised her, or that she didn't
have insider knowledge of, except the elusive Whitestone Club. She didn't know why, but lately she had been having strange dreams about it. Even in the daytime, she couldn't stop thinking about it. It was the only place that she had not been invited to yet for an engagement or a meal. She felt like it was being kept from her. The men that went t
here were the crème de la crème! Kristen began learning more about the club through off-the-cuff comments and muffled whispers. It piqued her curiosity and she wondered when she would meet one of its members, or if she already had. She often considered planting herself in the Whitestone parking lot to perhaps have a chance run-in with one.
One perfect Palm Beach afternoon, floating in her pool and fueled by red wine, Kristen was obsessing again about the Whitestone. Curiously enough, she recalled from her childhood that her father had items bearing the club's name on them hidden away in the back of various drawers in their Palm Beach house. She had never thought to question him about it and figured it was just another silly club.
As Kristen re-filled her glass, her imagination switched to overdrive, and she began to really go out on a limb. She knew that if she ever did hook up with a member, that it would not be just by coincidence. She would never put it past her father to have made some type of arrangement to ensure this type of fate. It would be along the same premise of “offering your first born to the Devil in return for his blessings.”
She began laughing to herself “Of course, that wouldn’t work because I am the youngest.” Then she