Fallen Ambitions
Page 20
*****
Desirée
Breathing heavy Desirée leaned back against the wall of the bedroom for a long moment. She was tired and worried.
It was the worry that drove her to come away from the wall and go back out to the truck and get the supplies she had bought.
Armed with confidence from another incident that had occurred two months back when Victor had gotten a deep bullet burn across the front of his one thigh she went to work. He weighed a ton and it was beyond her to even contemplate trying to get his clothes off.
Taking a pair of scissors she cut his shirt away. Carefully she unsnapped his holster and laid his big gun onto a nearby nightstand.
She had a history with that gun as well as its owner. It was hard to imagine now though just how much things had changed from the moment of her on her knees with the muzzle of that pistol aimed at her forehead. In short everything had changed.
She swabbed his whole shoulder area down being quite liberal with the rubbing alcohol. Trepidatiously she pulled the one blood soaked tampon out.
A gush of blood came with it that almost made her pass out, but taking a breath she pulled the tampon in his back out as well in order to let the wound drain. It really wasn’t bleeding that bad now and the wound had started to close in on itself as the blood clotted.
He was a big healthy animal for sure. Her eyes drifted appreciably out across the muscular sloped plains of his chest and the desire she had for this man only heightened in intensity.
Wiping at her forehead with the back of her hand she then went about bandaging both sides of the wound and then wrapping it with gauze to hold the pads in place. That in itself was an ordeal as she had to repetitively lift him in order to get the gauze around him.
All the while she worked on him he slept taking big even breaths of air. Brushing back her hair she stared down at him for a moment. He really should have a bath.
Her eyes traced down him as she debated about what to do. It would be a highly personal thing to do given how she felt about him, but it was a needful thing to be done.
She felt at her ring finger and the purity ring that sat there snugly. Her fingers were swelled from the effort she had gone through this day. However something told her to tug on the ring anyway, but she didn’t for fear it was just her own lusts speaking to her.
She stood up to go and the ring fell off her finger. Gasping she reached down to pick it up.
She went to put it back on, but it wouldn’t go. It was as if an invisible force held it from going further.
Glancing upward Desirée said, “But he hasn’t made a choice for You yet. I thought that had to come first.”
“It does.”
Feeling left to grapple with that answer on her own she thought about what that meant in connotation to the ring not going back on.
“Your vowel of purity is no longer reserved to Me. See to his needs, but only share yourself with him when he has been made whole. To do otherwise is to disobey Me.”
Shivering slightly her hand closed around the ring tightly as she whispered, “Thank you.”
She left the room then. When she came back moments later it was with her ring tied to a string about her neck and a basin of warm water in her hands.
She then cared for him by doing what he couldn’t in the moment. After she’d finished washing him she pulled the comforter out from underneath him to pile it up at the foot of the bed.
She’d have to recompense the owner of the fishing cottage for it as she doubted that such an amount of blood could ever be washed out entirely. That done she stared down at the man upon the bed.
He was quite the hunk and one day, like it or not, he was going to be all hers. She fervently hoped that day would be soon.
She pulled the sheet out from under him and covered him with it and then for the first time she managed the time to care for her own needs. She got a shower and dried off before slipping the ring necklace back on.
She’d bought some clothes, but she only put on the undergarments. Going back to the bedroom she looked in to see him as he had been when she had left.
She fervently wished she could cuddle up against him, as only she had daydreamed about doing, but that wasn’t for now. Reluctantly she turned away and made her way to the living room area and lay down on the couch that she’d covered up with a blanket. She covered up with the loose end of the blanket and lay there.
She was tired, but sleep wouldn’t come. Idly she reached over and got the TV remote and did something then that she never did anymore.
She never watched TV, but in her defense she was curious about something. The local news channel came on and she didn’t have to wait long before imagery of a big green rusty rock truck on the loose in an urban scene came to life on the big screen.
Putting a hand to her mouth she watched in a mixture of amazement and something like shocked humor as a TV anchor woman droned on in the background. Something the woman said caught at her attention.
“This sorry mad dash through town at the complete disregard for others safety we now know was the result of a workplace labor dispute. This act of extreme road rage was committed by one Lenny Nuwolt, a machine operator for the local union. Our preliminary reports tell us that after getting fed up from an extended labor standoff between the union and the company’s owners that he was contracted to work for he decided to make a few waves of his own with this joyride of his 85 ton rock truck through this commercial district of Louisville. Sadly Lenny didn’t get to live to see both the damage and the move for change his road rage actions have inspired. Police said he drowned behind the wheel of his rock truck, after seemingly ditching it purposefully in the river. This wild ride finally came to an end. A ride in which at least one eyewitness reports that he saw a military helicopter fire live rounds upon the truck. Early on there was some fear that the truck could be harboring a bomb, but reports in from the street are conflicting. In the end what is clear is that a resolution to these labor disputes between the trade unions, city officials, and company owners must end! Already hundreds of union members have gathered to offer their support for continued talks and as a testament to one man’s will to make a statement with his life howbeit a costly one for all parties involved. Stay tuned to hear the latest from this evolving story that just maybe might end better than it started out today. I’m Rachel Upholtz and this is your local news broadcast. Stay…….” Desirée clicked the TV off and let the remote fall to the floor.
The lies! They’d killed that man!
Did no one see the truth? How could they when all the major media outlets at large were in for whatever was whispered into their ear to say and proclaim to one and all willing to listen.
Rubbing a hand across her eyes she prayed for the operator of the truck that had been murdered for the sake of a diversion from the real story.
Sadly she didn’t hold out much hope for the man given her remembrance of all the garbage he’d had strewn about the interior of his rock truck. Such things said a lot about the man’s priorities in life and yet she hoped for his sake that he’d made the right choice at some point before his death.
Speaking of choices caused her to forget the fake news bulletin and pray for the eternal redemption of her own man’s soul. In the course of doing that she fell asleep.