by Amy Brent
The therapist held up his hands and shook his head. “I totally agree with the court, your honor. She fucked up my life, too.”
“Let the record show that another victim has come forward,” Holden said, nodding at Earl, who grunted and kept on typing. Holden directed his judgmental gaze back to me. It broke my heart to see such anger in his eyes.
He asked, “Do you have any last words before this court passes judgment?”
I looked all around the room. Everyone in the gallery was staring at me. Keith’s wife and children were looking at me with such hatred that I felt the heat of their eyes on my cheeks. Markle’s hands had fallen still, though his cock remained laid out on the table like a beached walrus.
Keith had lifted his head from the table and was starting at me through tearful eyes. Izzy had moved to sit on Earl’s lap at the reporter’s station. Her robe was off now. Earl was massaging her brown tits as he glared at me with the eyes of an angry pit bull looking for something to attack.
I looked toward Holden, hoping to find a friendly face, or at least a sympathetic one. There was no was sympathy to be had. He was leaning back with his arms crossed over his thick chest, slowly shaking his head.
I said, “I guess all I can say is… I’m sorry…”
“That’s it?” Holden asked, snorting a laugh. “You’re sorry.”
“The bitch is sorry,” Izzy said, huffing. “Amazing.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, your honor!” Markle said, his voice cracking. He gestured at the giant cock on the table, comically attached to his skinny body. “Look what you did to me. Look what you left me with. Sorry… fuck your apology… and fuck you!”
“She’s sorry…” Keith muttered, glancing back at his wife and kids. “After everything she did… after destroying our lives… all she can say is she’s fucking sorry. Can you believe that, kids? The cunt who fucked up all our lives is sorry.”
Keith’s son, who looked to be about five or six, slid off his mom’s lap and toddled toward me. He held up his stubby middle fingers and growled at me. “Fuck you’re sorry,” he said in an adorable little voice. “And fuck you for fucking my daddy!” He turned and ran back to his mother and buried his adorable little face between her breasts.
“What shall be sufficient punishment for this guilty bitch?” Holden asked, getting to his feet and spreading out his hands. He looked toward Keith’s wife. “What say you, Mrs. Calloway?”
Keith’s wife and kids stood up and faced me. With the kids clutched to her sides, she calmly said, “Death, your honor. Death to the skanky bitch!”
I snorted. “You can’t be serious.”
The gallery got to its feet and started to chant in unison. “Death! Death! Death! Death!”
Izzy and Earl started clapping like they were in church and singing together. “Death! Death! Death!”
I was horrified. I wrapped my arms around myself and looked back to Holden. “Please, Holden… please…”
He just shrugged with his eyes and held up his hands. “Hey, the people have spoken. Death to the bitch. My hands are tied.”
“But, Holden, I…”
“Oh, one other thing,” Holden said, leaning over the bench to finally offer me a smile. “You know that song, Hey Jude?”
I swallowed hard, blinked at him. “Yes.”
“I hate that fucking song.” With that he slammed the gavel down hard on the sound block, making the floor beneath my feet open up. I fell into a fiery hole to forever burn in my own sins.
Wow. What a lousy fucking dream.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Jude
Izzy knocked quietly on my bedroom door then stuck her head in before I could tell her to go away. I knew I should have locked the door, not that that would have stopped Izzy. If Izzy wanted in, she would get in. And if she couldn’t somehow unlock the door, she’d just get Earl to smash it in.
She called out to me in that sing-song voice of hers. “Hey, Jude, that was Professor Moss at the door. Again.”
“I don’t want to see him,” I said, my head buried beneath the covers. “I don’t want to see anyone.” I suddenly remembered how she had treated me in the dream. I growled at her under my breath. “And I’m pretty pissed at you right now!”
The room was dark even though it was after three in the afternoon. I had the blackout shades down and the curtains pulled tight. The only light in the room was the red glow of the numbers on the digital alarm clock on the nightstand: 3:12 PM.
I heard Izzy take a deep breath and walk into the room, leaving the bedroom door open wide enough to let the light shine in from the hallway. I felt the bed bounce as she climbed in next to me. She lay behind me and looped her arm around my shoulders to spoon with me.
“You can’t stay in this cave for the rest of your life, little bear,” she said softly in my ear, giving me a good squeeze. “And this whole ‘I’m so depressed’ thing is getting pretty old. So how about you crawl out of your hole and go take a shower while I heat you up a nice can of soup.”
“I don’t want soup and I don’t need a shower,” I said angrily, sticking my head out from under the covers to glare at her. My hair was greasy and matted to my head. Izzy was right. I reeked of sweat and self-pity.
“Uh, you might not need soup but you could sure use a shower,” she said, playfully shoving her nose against my hair and taking a deep whiff. “Lordy girl, you’re starting to smell like an old sock. My nose is pretty pissed off at you right now.”
“Then get the fuck off me!” I snapped, trying to push her away. “Just get out of my room and leave me the fuck alone!”
I heard her take a deep breath as she pulled her arm from around me. “You’re going to force me to do something I don’t really want to do,” she said.
“Go. Away.”
“You’re making me take drastic measures, missy. This ain’t gonna be pretty.”
I pulled the comforter down a little more and glanced over my shoulder at her. In the darkened room, I could just make out the outline of her dark face. She was not smiling. Fearing the answer, I asked, “What are you going to do?”
Without another word, Izzy jumped to her feet on the bed and started bouncing up and down as if she was on a trampoline. She grabbed the comforter and jerked it off my naked body, wadding it up and throwing it to the floor. As she bounced up and down she started to sing with her hands swaying in the air.
“YMCA! IT’S FUN TO STAY AT THE Y-M-C-A-A!!”
“GODDAMMIT, IZZY!” I screamed at her as my body bounced up and down on the bed, my big tits flouncing on my chest. “Fucking stop it you crazy bitch! Get off my fucking bed!”
“You fucking stop it!” she roared, still bouncing. “IT’S FUN TO STAY AT THE—"
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything!”
“Y-M-C-A! Y-M-C-A-A!!”
“Izzy!! Stop what??”
“Stop blaming yourself for everybody else’s problems, you crazy bitch!” she said, bouncing, panting. “It’s not your fault Keith Calloway is a fucking psycho asshole piece of shit! Stop feeling sorry for him and stop feeling sorry for yourself!”
“I’m not!”
“Bullshit! And stop avoiding Holden Moss, you moron! The guy really cares for you!”
“How the fuck do you know that?” I asked.
“Because he just told me he does!” She stopped bouncing and started breathing hard. She put her hands on her knees with her feet straddling my hips, huffing and puffing as she looked down at me. “Fuck, I might need a doctor. And why are you naked?”
“You just don’t understand, Iz,” I said, ignoring her question and glaring up at her with tears in my eyes. “Keith was a good guy. He had a wife and kids. A home. A good job. A good life. I fucked all that up. I fucked him up! I’ll never forgive myself for that!”
“That’s bullshit,” Izzy said, lowering herself to sit on my belly. “Keith was always fucked up, even before you got involved with him. You just gave the psycho son of a bitch something to focus on
! You did his wife and kids a favor!”
“No, no I didn’t,” I said quietly. “If I’d never zeroed in on him… If I had never gone into that classroom intent on seducing him…”
“Jude, for pete’s fucking sake, nobody knew the guy was married,” Izzy said, reaching down to brush strands of red hair from my face. “Do you think you were the first student he ever fucked?”
I blinked at her. “No, he told me he had sex with other students.”
“So that’s on him,” Izzy said. “He hid the fact that he was married. He screwed more girls than just you. You just happened to be with him when he got caught by his wife! The guy is a lying, cheating, fucking asshole, Jude. Stop beating yourself up over this cocksucker! He’s not worth it.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said, sniffing back tears.
“What I know is that you have a wonderful man who is worrying himself sick over you,” Izzy said, putting her hands on my boobs and giving them a playful squeeze. “And you’re letting these perfect titties go to waste when that man could be squeezing and kissing them for you.”
I grinned and pushed her hands away, covering my tits with my arms. “Are you sure you’re not a lesbian, Iz?”
“Fuck no, girl, I ain’t munching on your red rug so don’t bother asking,” Izzy said, moving her hands to my cheeks. She squeezed her hands together, pooching out my lips. “I just love the fuck out of you, that’s all.”
I smiled with tears in my eyes. “I love you, too, Iz.”
“Good. Now, get your ass out of this bed and into that shower. Then get your ass over to Holden Moss’ place before he worries himself sick over you.”
She crawled off the top of me, then grabbed my bare feet to pull me off the foot of the bed. She took my hands and pulled me up, then directed me toward the bathroom and gave my bare ass a slap.
“I gotta say, though,” she said lustfully as I walked toward the shower. “If I was a lez-bee-on-it I would be all up in your shit.”
“That’s good to know,” I said, turning around and putting my hands on my boobs to shake them at her. “Hold that thought. If things don’t go well with Holden I might come back here looking to switch teams!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Holden
“So, your flight arrives at nine-fifteen tonight,” I said, staring at Wynn’s smiling face on my laptop screen. I had just made it home from Jude’s apartment when the Skype call dinged on my laptop. Wynn was in Denver, getting ready to catch a connecting flight to Springfield. I was in a foul fucking mood after my conversation with Jude’s roommate, Izzy, but I mustered a smile for my old pal’s benefit.
“Yep, I’ve got an hour layover here in Denver, then I should hit the ground there around nine-fifteen to nine-thirty tonight.” He chuckled. “I probably shouldn’t use the phrase ‘hit the ground’ when it comes to air travel. I should land safely and gently there around nine-fifteen or nine-thirty.”
Wynn always made me smile, even when I didn’t feel like doing so. “Cool. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you this weekend. You need me to pick you up at the airport?”
“Nope, the association was kind enough to rent me a car for the weekend,” he said. His smile faded into a frown. “So, you’re looking forward to hanging out with me this weekend? What about your new girlfriend? Jude? Surely you didn’t clear your calendar with that gorgeous piece of ass just to spend the fucking weekend with me?”
I forced the smile again. “Ah, yeah, actually… we’re… taking a break…”
“Taking a break? Jesus, what are you guys, fifteen?” He scrunched up his nose. “Ah, fuck, Holden. What did you do?”
I frowned at the screen. “What? I didn’t do anything.”
“Then why are you taking a break?”
“Because… well fuck… I don’t know,” I said, getting angry at myself. “We just are.”
He nodded and rubbed his chin knowingly. “I gotta tell you, buddy, I’m a little surprised. I mean, the way you talked about this girl, well, honestly, I thought maybe she was more than a one-night stand.”
“Yeah, well…”
He sighed. “Honestly, from what you’ve been telling me about her I was hoping to sample those delights myself this weekend to see if she made me walk on Cloud 9 like she does you. I mean, if you wanted to share her, of course.”
“Of course,” I said without hesitation. “I think Jude would love you and vice versa.”
“Oh well. Now it sounds like you’ve fallen off that cloud. At least for now.”
I pushed Jude to the back of my mind and played my man card. “Yeah… well… whatever. I’m sure we can find another girl or two to play with us this weekend.”
“No worries,” Wynn said, wiggling his cellphone at the screen. “I still have my little black book of horny bitches in the Springfield area. We’ll be neck-deep in pussy before the weekend is out.”
“Sounds like a perfect plan,” I said, glancing at my watch. It was nearly five o’clock on a Friday night. Sadly, I had no plans and nowhere I needed to go. I could have gone to one of the campus bars and picked up a girl for the night, but my heart—and my cock— just wasn’t in the mood for a little strange. There was a case of Corona in the fridge. Maybe I’d just order a pizza and see how many of those I could drink before passing out in my own puke.
“Hey, you okay?” Wynn asked, tapping a fingertip to the screen.
“Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m good,” I said, nodding. “I was just making a grocery list in my head. You know; beer, chips, rubbers, porn—the essentials. I’ll see you when you get here later tonight.”
“Okay, pal,” Wynn said. “Rest up the old cock tonight because this weekend is going to be fucking epic, no pun intended. You have my word.”
“Sounds good. Chat with you soon.”
The smile dropped from my lips the moment I clicked off the Skype call. I hung up quickly before I could tell Wynn what I was really thinking, that none of us were in our right minds; me, him, Jude, all the other women we had fucked together and separately over the years. We were all a bunch of sex maniacs that didn’t give a flying shit what happened to anyone so long as we got our rocks off. And this weekend would be the same.
I closed the laptop and was picking up the phone to order that pizza when the doorbell rang. I ignored it, figuring it was my pain in the ass neighbor Larry wanting to borrow my lawn mower or some other tool he’d never bother to return. I was looking up the number of Domino’s on my phone when the doorbell rang three more times in the next ten seconds, I set the phone aside and went to answer the door, ready to tell Larry to get off my motherfucking porch.
I jerked open the door.
Jude was standing on my front porch.
I felt my heart start beating again.
“What are you doing here?” I asked because I could think of nothing else to say. “I thought you were, well, I don’t know what.”
“I was being stupid,” she said quietly. She lifted her chin and tried to smile. “And I’m here hoping you will forgive me.”
I leaned against door and smiled. I sighed heavily, as if a week’s worth of tension was leaving my body via my breath. I said, “There’s nothing to forgive.” I pulled open the door and stepped aside. “Want to come inside so we can… talk?”
“Actually, I’m afraid if I come in there at this moment we’ll just rip each other’s clothes off and I’ll forget to say everything I’ve come here to say.”
I frowned at her words for a moment, then shrugged and stepped out onto the porch. I glanced across the street. Larry was in his front yard using my hedge clippers to trim the bushes in front of his house. He held up a hand and I gave him a nod, then took Jude’s arm to direct her to the porch swing.
“Okay, we can talk out here if you don’t mind nosey neighbors.”
“I love this neighborhood,” she said as we sat down and I started swinging us gently with my feet planted on the plank porch. She glanced Larry’s way. He was trying to trim the hedge and spy on u
s at the same time. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to slice off a hand. “I assume that’s the neighborhood gossip.”
“The neighborhood is filled with gossipers,” I said. I bumped her with my elbow. “But forget him. Talk to me, Jude. What’s going on with you?”
“Am I talking to my lover or to my therapist?” she asked. She folded her hands in her lap and pressed her thumbs together. “I mean, if you don’t mind being both.”
“Which one do you want to talk to first?” I asked. “I just need to flip the switch in my brain and we’ll be good to go.”
“I think I need therapy more than I need to fuck,” she said with a sad smile. She glanced at me from the corner of her eyes. “Which is something I never thought I’d be saying.”
“Okay then, Dr. Holden Moss at your service.” Switching into psychotherapy mode was easy for me because, like it or not, I was always psychoanalyzing people in the back of my brain. I wasn’t judgmental, at least I tried hard not to be. I was just fascinated by how the human brain worked—or sometimes—didn’t work. I folded my hands in my lap to match hers and gave her a nod. “Please, Miss Allen, tell me what’s bothering you.”
Jude took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Quietly, with her eyes closed, she said, “I hate what I did to Keith Calloway and his family. I really hurt them all and I feel terrible about it. Like it’s all my fault. Every bit of it.”
