Chapter 25
Okay, the preamble really will be short this time. I figured I'd get this installment to you ASAP for two reasons. First off, most of you have been very understanding of the general slacking natures of both myself and DLS. Secondly, I'm pretty proud of this installment, and I had an absolute ball writing most of it. I hope you'll enjoy reading it half as much.
That said, my thanks, as always, to folks like Karen, who's just too wonderful for words, Rache, who's been there for me since the beginning, and MikeEllis, whose writing talents shame my own but whose friendship I luckily don't have to aspire to. There are so many others, of course, and they mean just as much, if not more. There's a few sexy Canadian bitches who mean the world to me. Drewbie (a.k.a. Sprout) is one of the most genuine people I know, and I just don't see how I could love him any more. I know, however, that that's just an impossibility with DLS, so I'll just have to settle on loving him as much as I do--SHMILY.
Insert standardized disclaimer here, and my love to Joshua, as always.
"Search and Rescue" by Matt Hunter
I just sat there, my head propped against my hand, as I watched him. The subtle rays of moonlight pierced through the area between the drapes and cascaded gently against his skin, washing all of the color from my night vision. The shadows played against his silhouette from the bridge of his nose, which looked in this setting to have been broken a few times, and the rounded darkness underneath his pecs, to the flat, slightly ripped ridges in his stomach and the coincidentally both strategic and erotic positioning of the sheet between his thighs. That sight alone almost drove me over the edge to wake him up to go at it again. It didn't even cover his waist--just the important parts. I could follow his skin, uninterrupted, from his forehead to the soles of his feet, except for that one area.
I smiled to myself and gave into temptation. I placed a gentle peck on his forehead and cascaded a finger from his bottom lip, through the hair on his chest, down the treasure trail on his midriff, and across the silky-smooth skin of his outer thigh. I knew exactly what reaction that would elicit before it even happened. Ticklish as ever, he swatted my hand away. "And just what exactly do you think you're doing?"
I leaned over to kiss him before pulling back with a smile that matched his own. "Just wondering what I did to deserve someone like you."
"You've apparently lived your life very, very wrong," he grinned.
I lifted off of my arm once more to free my pillow, which I promptly used to pummel him. "Shut up," I laughed. "You know what I mean."
Cowering behind his hands with a laugh even louder than my own, he grabbed the pillow and pushed it down between us. "No," he said, suddenly with earnest. "I don't know what you mean, because I'm the lucky one." That said, he lunged across the pillow and kissed me.
"Were you really as miserable as Curly said?" I asked with a sympathetic half-smile.
"No," he replied flatly. "That was just what I wasn't strong enough to hide from him."
I let my head fall limply against his shoulder. He leaned his head against my own and placed his lips gently in my hair in a kiss. "All the misery, and for what?" I asked, mostly rhetorically.
He pushed me back far enough to look in my eyes. "So that I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that I cost you the most important things in your life."
I just shook my head and caressed his cheek. "Haven't you figured it out? You are the most important thing in my world. I love those girls more than my own life, but your song said it best. It's not much of a life without you."
He reached up and wiped away a slowly cascading tear. "I was trying to protect you."
There was a time when I would have overreacted to that statement and gotten upset, but I couldn't bring myself to even feel that way about him. I covered his lowering hand with my own. "And I love you for it, but as long as you're a part of me, I'm strong enough to take care of myself. You gave me the will to live when it had left me entirely."
He couldn't even bring himself to look at me. "I'm sorry I hurt you. You've had enough people let you down in your life, and I just added to it."
"But unlike those others," I began, lifting his chin into my gaze, "you did the wrong thing for the right reasons. You did it for me, and I'm sorry you got dragged into my war with my sister-in-law."
"You have nothing to be sorry for," he told me adamantly, tears freshly welling in his eyes.
"I wish that were true," I told him solemnly. "I did something I'm not proud of."
He raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"Not long before Nick and Jessica duped me into coming, I called Nate," I began.
"Someone who would understand?" he asked, turning his head away from me, fear and hurt in his eyes and his teeth firmly ground into his lower lip.
"Yeah," I told him without pride and conveying as much humility as I could convey.
"So what happened?" he mustered himself to ask, turning back to look at me, tears rolling down both sides of his face and dripping of his chin. His voice cracked as he spoke.
"We talked, for starters. Then we kissed. I think I kissed him, though, in truth, I can't even remember anymore."
"Go on," he instructed me, visibly bracing himself for the worst.
"After one of my outbursts, we made our way back to our bedroom," I continued in hushed tones, not even having the courage to look at him directly.
"I understand," he told me, nodding his head affirmatively, though his crying was audibly obvious now.
"No," I choked back, forcing our eyes to meet. "I don't think you do. We had our clothes off in seconds, and we knew what we wanted from each other, . . . ."
"Please don't make me hear this," he sobbed, hanging his head in defeat. "I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry, but . . . ."
". . . But at the last minute," I cut in, "we couldn't do it. Everything came to a screeching halt, and we just stared at one another, stupefied. I guess he couldn't do that to Brian, and I certainly couldn't do that to you.
He rolled over to one side and fell asleep with his back to me while I stared at the ceiling. He got up, got dressed, and went back to his room. He left the next morning."
He shook his head, confused. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because you needed to know," I answered simply.
"So you're saying nothing happened?"
"If you mean sex, then no, we didn't have sex, but we almost did. I wanted to, and I almost did, fully knowing how much it would hurt you."
He sat upright, using both hands to feebly dry his face. "You stopped, though."
"But what if I hadn't?" I asked, my shame forcing me to look at the foot of the bed. "What if I don't the next time?"
"But you did," he reminded me, inching down the bed until I had to look at him. "And what the hell makes you think there will be a next time?"
"Because I can't promise you there won't be," I sniffed.
"But I can," he smiled sternly. "I almost fucked this up, and I'm not about to let you go again."
I could do nothing but cry. I had almost done the one thing that I knew could virtually destroy him, and here he was, his arms wrapped around me, supporting me. He had undeniably hurt me, but he did it because he loved me. I had just been selfish.
He just let me let it out, and after a few minutes, we were lying there in silence once more. Above the covers, the firelight bounced on our skin. Inches from each other, we shared the same pillow with room to spare. I looked into his eyes, for some sign, for something--anything--which would tell me that he wasn't sure, that I shouldn't be with him. I needed it now, because it was at this moment that my heart would belong to him for the rest of my life. Any doubts were completely allayed, and the soft light reflecting in his eyes told me everything I needed to know about him and his feelings for me.
He kissed me suddenly and sprang to his feet. He ran barefoot, and bare-assed for that matter, across the floor. He turned on some soft music and took something from his pants pocket. I sat up at the edge of the bed, bundling the covers around my waist while I strained to see what he was doing. He was back in an instant, he knelt before me, on one knee, just inches away. He lifted the hand he'd used to steady himself on the rug and stroked the calf of my leg.
"You got to do this before, but now it's my turn, and I'm going to do it right." He took my hand and slid a ring onto the finger. "Matt, I love you, and I've never wanted anything in my life more than I want to spend the rest of it with you. Will you marry me?"
I leapt from the bed and pushed him backwards, almost pounding his head on the hard floor in front of the fireplace screen. He laughed, "Can I take this as a `yes?'"
I ran my fingertips down his side, tickling him again, and squeezed his thigh. "You bet your ass it's a `yes.'"
"I like the sound of that," he grinned.
"Good," I replied, pecking him quickly on the nose and jumping to my feet. He shot upright, confused again, as I retrieved an envelope from my coat pocket. I handed it to him, and he squinted to read it. It was addressed "To JC, from Matt" in a handwriting he clearly recognized was not my own.
"What's this?"
"It's courtesy of a cousin who knows me too damn well and had the good sense to make sure I packed everything I would need," I smiled.
He tore the end off of the envelope and dumped out its contents, the ring spilling onto his hand. He smiled and rested his forehead against my shoulder as I took the ring and slid it over his finger. "I think I could get used to having a family like that."
"You do," I assured him. "Nick handed me that while you were on your `Celebrity Dream Date' and said that he wanted to make sure both of his cousins had everything perfect and that he expected us to have lots of make-up sex."
JC looked up at me with a mischievous grin. "Let's not disappoint our cousin, then." With that, he pushed me to the carpet with a kiss.
Several hours later, the fire had started to subside, but we hadn't. We had our legs crossed over each other, thoroughly bound by the mess of sheets and blankets we had made at our feet. The fire, little more than embers at this point, shed a golden cast on JC. I used my finger to trace his profile from his forehead, over his nose, and across his lips, until he pulled my finger into his mouth. He deftly used his tongue to swirl around it, a promise of things to come. I withdrew it and finished my way from his chin and down his body, the newfound moisture matting the hairs on his chest.
"Just so you know," I grinned at him, "it took every ounce of restraint I've ever possessed to not interrupt your date tonight anyway. I wanted to take you on the table in front of the other guys, that girl who won the contest, and the entire MTV camera crew."
He just chuckled and feigned shock. "You'd have sex with me in public, with them watching?"
I moved my hand into his thigh and gave him a light squeeze. "In the Oval Office, in front of my grandmother and the President, with CNN taping every second of it. Any other questions?"
He laughed. "You're a freak."
"And you love it," I smirked before kissing him.
"Yes," he replied, short of breath, "I do."
"Besides, who could have blamed me tonight? I couldn't resist you looking like you did in those camouflage pants and that black shirt," I smiled.
"You're just saying that because it's true," he grinned.
I laughed and slapped his stomach. "I'm just saying that because I picked out what you were wearing."
"Well, the wardrobe girl brought the clothes," he reminded me.
"And she was also enjoying herself a bit too much taking your measurements," I pointed out.
"You're crazy," he grinned even more broadly.
"Oh, yeah. It's my imagination," I agreed sarcastically. "That's why Justin muttered that she was barking up the wrong tree."
"Good point," he capitulated.
"I know," I smugly announced as I tapped the bridge of his nose. I curled up beneath his arm as he cradled me against him, the beating of his heart loud in my ear. "I just got you back, and no one's going to come between us again."
"What about Gail?" he asked, the lightheartedness of the moment now gone.
I smiled malevolently. "Leave that to me. I'll let you watch, but you'll want to stay clear of the blast zone." I entwined my fingers with his. "I made a promise to Ash that I would never strike back at Abby for anything she did to her or me, but she's broken the rules by going after you and the girls. All bets are off, and quite frankly, I'm going to enjoy this. It's long overdue."
Needless to say, I woke long before he did. His arms were encircled around my waist, and his legs were locked around mine. It didn't take a degree in psychology to figure out that he was trying to hold onto me. I never felt safer in my life than I did in that very moment. His forehead rested against my shoulder, and I could honestly say that there was nowhere else in the world I would rather be. His body was flush with my own, and I was beginning to get uncomfortable, not from his affection, but from the heat.
I grinned to myself and tried to turn over to face him. At first, he subconsciously resisted my efforts, so I leaned into him as I made my next attempts, and that seemed to be enough for him. I could see him rousing, very groggily, just long enough to pull me to him entirely. I was directly next to him, from my forehead to my ankles.
"Where do you think you're going?" he managed, in a dry, cracked, dehydrated voice that caused him to smile.
"Trying to get up," I answered, smiling, as I leaned in to kiss his eyelids. That caused him to open his eyes, and when he did, my heart skipped a beat. Those beautiful, crystal blue eyes seemed to look into my very soul, and I was spellbound. I had loved him from the moment I saw him, those many months ago in that wreck, when I made a silent prayer to God to spare him. I didn't know why at that time, unless it was my foolish pride just refusing to admit that I couldn't save everyone. Whatever the reason, though, I now felt things for this man that would have once been inconceivable to me.
For the first and only time in my life, all truly seemed right with the world. In his arms and his eyes, I knew that it would all be okay. In fact, it would be better than okay. The thought of hearing another word pass his lips brought me indescribable joy. The idea of touching him made my body scream in desire. The notion of being apart from him, even for an instant, could reduce me to tears. There was a peace that came with knowing I had found the person I was meant to be with forever. I wondered if he even had a clue of the power he had over me now. My heart belonged to him unconditionally. There was absolutely nothing I could refuse him if he asked.
He gave me that crooked half-smile of his, and a dimple appeared from just beyond its margins. Knowing that look was just for me was invigorating. "How come?" he yawned, now sporting a full smile. "You have to stay in this bed with me forever."
I playfully massaged his calves with my feet and brought his hand up where I could playfully press against it, fingertips touching, before gripping his fingers between my own. We brought our now conjoined hand between our faces, where I could touch him and he could touch me. Slowly, we traced the borders between us as I kissed him. The ferocity of it apparently surprised him at first, perhaps expecting more gentleness this early in the morning. He quickly adapted and poured his own passion into it as well.
"Your wish is my command," I grinned at him.
He feigned a look on his face like I'd just hit him in the gut as he smiled. "That's so cruel, teasing me like that."
I locked my hands into a fist around his and spun him onto his back, straddling his upper thighs in the process. "Who the hell said I was teasing?" I smiled, raising an eyebrow.
He lay there a few hours later, a sheen of sweat covering us both. He gasped in labored breaths. I just laughed and sat up, reaching down and grabbing his crotch with one of the hands I'd braced myself on. He quickly pulled away from my touch and swatted my hand away. I turned to face his broad smile and raised my eyebrows. He shook his head defiantly. "Oh, no!" he shouted. "I barely have the energy to open my eyes."
I just giggled. "Who said your eyes had to be open?"
His jaw fell slack, dumbfounded. "You can't be serious? I'm exhausted."
"Me, too," I chuckled. "I need to carbo-load for round two."
"Round two?" he asked incredulously. "Two digits, maybe."
"Well, I'm hungry," I pouted, leaning down to lick up his chest, neck, and chin, pulling away just before his mouth could meet mine. "You coming downstairs for brunch or not?"
"Or not," he laughed. "You go ahead. I'll just lay here and get some beauty sleep."
"You don't need any of that," I chided. He blushed and turned his head in embarrassment. The fact that he still didn't acknowledge how beautiful he really was just made me laugh hysterically.
"I'm glad you find this so amusing," he grinned. "Go grab a shower. You stink, and you smell like you've been having sex all night."
"All night and all morning," I reminded him. "`Make-up sex' I believe Nicky called it."
"Have me made up yet?" he smiled.
"I'll let you know when we've made up sufficiently. We've got a lot of making up to do."
He groaned. "I don't even have the strength to walk now."
I stuck out my tongue at him. "Lack of energy's not the only reason you can't walk."
"Fuck you," he grinned.
"You did--repeatedly," I reminded him.
"I think we shared those duties fairly equally," he smirked, "as you so daintily pointed out with the aforementioned `unable to walk' statement."
I reached across his chest and thumped his nipple before standing. "True enough," I acknowledged. "So, are you coming into the shower with me?"
"Will you promise not to touch me?" he asked with a malicious grin.
"Absolutely not," I responded, without missing a beat.
"Then, no," he replied with exaggerated emphasis on the last word.
"Okay," I sighed, walking across the room, "but I expect you to do some more making-up when I get back."
As I started to shut the bathroom door so I could retrieve a towel from the closet behind it, he yelled, "In that case, do me a favor?"
"Of course," I answered without thinking.
"Call room service and tell them to send me twelve of everything," he grinned.
I just shook my head and shut the door.
When I got downstairs to one of the private dining rooms, the coconspirators themselves, Justin and Nick, were sitting at a table alone. They looked up at me for just a moment, weighing my expression, before Nick broke out in a grin. "Made up yet?" he asked, eyebrows raised in that sardonic way everyone in our family seemed to be able to do.
I rolled my eyes and smirked, "Working on it."
"Keep trying," he smiled. "I'm sure you two will get it right after a lot more practice."
Justin just shook his head and laughed. "I get the distinct impression that there's a lot of innuendo between you two."
I turned to look at him incredulously. "First of all, `innuendo?'"
He stuck out his tongue at me. "I didn't score that badly on the SATs, thank you very much."
Nick and I both chuckled at that remark before I continued, "Secondly, no, there's not. Innuendo is subtle, and nobody in our family has ever been accused of that."
"So what have you been accused of?" Justin mockingly asked Nick.
"More than you know," I offered, earning a glare from my cousin.
"And it's all true," Jessica commented with one of those knowing smiles that only the daughter of a preacher was capable of. Nick turned beet red, and Justin and I almost fell out of our chairs, laughing hysterically.
Slowly, more people joined us. At first, it was Joey and Lance. Joey reached over my shoulder and grabbed a piece of bacon off of my plate, shoving it into his mouth. I just looked at him questioningly before turning up my nose at him. "You're welcome."
"Thanks," he smiled, leaning back in to kiss me on the cheek before setting his plate down and pulling out the chair.
"So, I take it things went well?" Lance asked, reaching over to grab a piece of bacon off Joey's plate and setting it on mine without missing a beat or so much as cracking a smile.
I just nodded, not trusting myself not to laugh at the dumbfounded look on Joe's face. It was a good thing Chris wasn't there, because he'd have been howling.
"It went extremely well," I smiled, more in response to Lance's actions than his question.
"That's good," Joey hummed absentmindedly as he quite deliberately flicked grape jelly onto Lance's shirt. "I'd hate for us to have to kick your ass for being stubborn."
Lance reached in front of Justin and grabbed a bagel. "Or his for being stupid," Lance added casually, smearing on the cream cheese. Instead of bringing to his mouth, he brought it calmly up to Joey's face and mashed it onto his nose and mouth.
"Yeah," Chris chuckled as he joined us. "One stupid person in the group at a time, please."
Joey's eyebrows went up in that comically daring way of his. "And just who are you calling stupid?"
"Um, that would be the guy who's pulling to be the first Jewish Santa Claus," Chris grinned exaggeratedly as he put his own bagel under Joe's chin and flicked a large glob of cream cheese onto it.
Joe feigned a chuckle of his own as he took a jelly-filled doughnut from the pastry tray and paused to stare accusingly. "And who asked for your two cents, Mr. Helper?" he asked in his best Sam Kinison voice from "Back to School." With that, Joe slapped his hands together, launching the insides perfectly at Chris' face. "Aren't you supposed to be in somebody's garden, you gnome?"
"Guys, come on," Justin broke in, trying not to laugh.
"Brillo-head's trying to be the voice of reason?" Lance jeered as he poured hot syrup onto Justin's lap.
Justin was caught somewhere between wanting to laugh and utter shock. "Oh, you are so dead, you redneck albino!" he shouted as his first spoonful of milky cereal shot from his spoon to the top of Lance's head. No wonder he was so good at basketball--his aim was flawless. Milk started dripping down Lance's face from all sides.
Lance pulled the napkin from his lap to wipe off his face, and in his best cartoon voice asked, "Of course you know, this means war?"
Nick leaned over to me in a grin. "And you want to hang out with these gu--"
"Yes," Chris interrupted, not even giving him a chance to finish his sarcastic question before pouring the blueberry glaze for the waffles down the back of Nick's shirt, "he does."
"I think I'll be going now," Jess smiled meekly as she pushed away from the table.
"Oh, no, you don't," Nick laughed. "These other guys may feel uncomfortable including you in all this, but I don't." Before the protest could come, Nick had grabbed her arm with one hand and her plate with the other. In the blink of an eye, she was sitting in her plate of biscuits and gravy.
I was too through at this point. I was yowling for all I was worth. Justin turned a comical face of anger towards me. "Don't think you're getting out of this so easy?" He grabbed a handful of eggs off Lance's plate and tossed them straight at my face. I grabbed the now empty bagel plate and used it to block the trajectory.
"So how is everythi----" the waiter started to ask just as the reflected poultry hit him right in the mouth.
Chris quickly put his hand over his mouth to stifle a laugh, Joey tried to act innocent, Jessica turned red, Lance shifted in his seat, Nick hid behind me, and Justin, seeing all of this, lost all ounce of restraint and starting snorting milk from his nose. Needless to say, we were all past any modicum of decorum at that point, and the waiter just stared at us indignantly as we all laughed until we were silent, our very breath gone from our lungs.
After essentially being ejected from the dining room, we congregated in the guys' suite. I didn't want to go back to my room and wake JC. Justin "called" the shower first and darted in before we had a chance to protest. Meanwhile, Chris, Lance, Joey, and I collapsed on the sofa and chairs in the living area, still laughing at our escapades when a knock came at the door.
"Now what?" Chris moaned.
"I'll get it," I chortled as I sprang to my feet. When I opened the door, Nick was standing there bare-chested with his shirt in his hands. I just laughed and shook my head in disbelief, "What are you doing here?"
"I need a shower, and Jess is taking her time," he pouted.
"Come on in," Justin told him as he walked out of the bathroom, drying his hair with another towel wrapped around his waist. "I just finished, so hop right in."
"Hey!" Chris protested. "Why does he get to go in first?"
To make my case, I spun Nick around and pointed. The purplish tint of the blueberries was obviously covering a reddening area. "Because somebody poured one of the few things down his back that he's allergic to, and he's starting to break out."
"Ooh," Chris just cringed, looking like a dog that'd just been whipped. "Sorry."
"Don't worry about it," Nick laughed. "I'm not fatally allergic or anything. It's just making me itch like crazy."
"Go ahead," Lance announced, handing him the towel he had sitting on the arm of his chair for his own shower.
"Thanks," he responded before disappearing into the steam-filled room.
Justin nudged me forward, since I was taking up the whole couch. I made a face at him and let him sit before putting the pillow between us, almost pushing him off the end. "I don't think so," he grinned, tossing the pillow to Joey, who placed it on his armrest and propped his elbows on it. He looked at me with a Cheshire cat grin, so I just shrugged and dropped my head on his lap in a strategic point, eliciting an "Oomph!" out of him.
"That was mean," he tried to smile through gritted teeth.
"Uh-huh," I acknowledged. Grinning myself, I looked unabated up his torso to his face. "Anybody ever tell you you're a hottie?"
"Stop trying to kiss and make up," he smirked.
"Sounded more like kissing ass to me," Joey offered.
"If anyone would know, Joe...," Lance and I said unanimously. We looked at each other and laughed as Joey turned deep crimson.
Chris shifted, almost imperceptibly, in his seat. "Ask Chris," I told him.
"Whatever it is, it can't be worth me having to watch you squirm."
He just looked at me, stupefied. "How do you do that?"
"I just do," I laughed, "so talk."
He shook his head. "No, because the question is stupid, and you'll get mad at me."
That hurt my feelings that he thought he could say something that would get me mad at him, but it also deeply aroused my curiosity. "Now you have to ask it."
"No."
"Chris!" all of us barked in unison.
"Fine," he muttered, defeated. "I just wanted to know why you took JC back."
"Chris!" Joey shouted at him, making Chris turn his head away. I'd never seen Chris even remotely this serious in the time that I'd known him.
"Joe, it's a fair question, and I wanted to know," I said as I sat up. Justin immediately seized the opportunity to drop his head into my lap, thankfully missing the important anatomy, landing more on my leg than my crotch. I looked down at him with a smile, "I deserved that, I guess." He nodded his head affirmatively.
"It's complicated and simple at the same time, Chris," I began. "The simplest explanation is because I love him."
"But look what he put you through?" Chris asked, genuinely trying to understand.
Lance opened his mouth to say something to Chris, but I lifted my hand just enough to give him pause. "But he did it because he loves me, as much as I do him."
"But he should have told you. I would have told you. Hell, I think we all would have told you."
"You don't know that, Chris. You weren't put in that situation, and it's unfair to judge him so harshly in retrospect."
"But you had a right to know."
"Yes, I did," I acknowledged. "I'm not saying he shouldn't have done things differently."
"Then why didn't he tell you about being blackmailed by Gail?"
"He thought he was protecting me. He didn't want to be responsible for me losing the girls," I explained.
"Didn't he realize that you two losing one another would hurt, too? Maybe even as much or more?"
"He does now," I half-smiled.
Nick came out of the shower and sat, cross-legged, on the carpet in front of me. I took the towel from him and finished drying his back. I caught Justin grinning up at me. I guess he thought it was cute or something. I just rolled my eyes, remembering how many times I'd seen he and JC do the same thing, and draped the towel around his shoulders. Leaning back, I thumped Justin on the nose.
"Hey!" he pouted.
"You're such a dork sometimes," I laughed. He pouted some more, and this time, he meant it. It never ceased to amaze me how sensitive he was. I leaned over and kissed his forehead, thumping his protruding lip on my way back up. "But you're cute, and you're my dork," I added with a smile.
"Okay," he smiled, apparently satisfied with that. Lance was just smiling, Chris was feigning disgust, and Joey just shook his head and laughed. "I'm going to take a shower now," he announced as he stood. Chris leapt over the couch where Justin and I were sitting, shouting, "Not unless you move that big Italian ass of yours!"
Joey barely had time to register the comment before the bathroom door shut.
After the dumbfounded expression drained from his face, he just smiled. "Probably a good thing he got his way, otherwise the little troll would have just jumped up and down and stomped his feet until he did."
"As opposed to someone blending their hair dye into someone else's shampoo when they didn't want to watch the same pay-per-movie that you did?" a familiar voice behind me asked.
I turned to see JC standing behind me as expected. "Hey, sweetie," I smiled reaching back with my arm to grab his hand.
"Hey, yourself," he grinned, leaning down to kiss me.
I lead him around the end of the couch and subtly bucked Justin to tell him to get up. Curly just shook his head "no" in an exaggerated, childlike manner, folding his arms defiantly. "Suit yourself," JC mused before leaping on top of Justin. JC had Justin's crossed arms pinned against his chest while he sprawled the length of his entire body.
Nick cackled hysterically. "I could retire right now if I had a camera. Can you imagine what someone would pay for a picture of them right now?"
I had to admit, it was a funny notion. I'd known them long enough now to know that JC and Justin were closer than friends, closer than brothers, and in many ways, closer than the lovers that a large segment of the population would like them to be. Seeing them like this only made me laugh, but considering Justin was wearing only a towel, and JC was wearing only a pair of workout shorts and an oversized tank top that seemed more for decoration than any purpose, it would make for an interesting picture, to say the least. I chuckled to myself when I realized that was my shirt he was wearing, and it even hung off me, since it used to be Nick's.
"If you don't get off me right now," Justin threatened, "I'm going to lick you."
"Ooh...tongue," Joey smiled.
"Damn, what a waste of a Kodak moment," Nick grinned.
Lance turned beet red. "Don't encourage them."
Before he'd even finished saying that, Justin stuck out his tongue, which JC quickly caught with teeth. A nonsensical babble that sounded vaguely reminiscent of "Do you give?" came from JC. Justin managed to free a hand, which rapidly shot around to grab JC's shorts, seemingly in an attempt to give him a wedgie. From my perspective, I instantly saw the futility in that. JC was going commando, and Justin's hand slid right down my fiance's ass. "I GIVE!" Justin managed to cry.
We all lost it. Joey was having trouble catching his breath, Nick fell on his back in laughter, and Lance had to get up to find something to wipe away his tears. Chris came back into the room in one of the white terrycloth robes provided by the hotel. Looking around, he frowned. "Okay, what'd I miss?"
"A couple of rungs on the evolutionary ladder?" Joey offered helpfully as he walked past him.
"So says the slack-jawed low-brow," Chris muttered.
I just shook my head and told Chris, "Just Justin trying to slip JC some tongue and grabbing his ass."
"Tell me you're kidding," he pleaded drolly. He turned to Lance for some voice of reason, but all he got was two hands raised up in concession. "GEEZ!" Chris shouted. "I leave the room for FIVE MINUTES!" He looked around with a grin. "Well, Nick, it's a good thing you're here, because the breeding part of our program has apparently been interrupted for a rousing rendition of show tunes."
Nick laughed, shook his head, and stood up. Placing an arm on Chris' shoulder, my cousin, in the most effeminate voice he could muster, asked, "What makes you think I'm playing for your team?"
Chris was dumbstruck, and the rest of us were absolutely reduced to hysterics again. Nick leaned over and kissed the top of my head while he mussed JC's hair. "I need to get back. Surely Jess is finished by now, and I'm in need of a bit more womanly company than even you hags can provide."
"Bitch," we all managed in unison. When we realized we'd done it, we looked around incredulously at one another before laughing even harder. Nick just laughed and gave us the finger on his way out.
"Don't say it," I warned Chris playfully as he started to open his mouth.
"Get off of me!" Justin barked as he pushed JC to the floor.
"And you get off of me!" I told him, dropping him on the carpet as well. JC grabbed my arms, and I pulled him up on the couch with me. "He gets certain perks," I winked.
"And he can keep them," Justin quickly acknowledged with a smile.
"What are you doing up anyway?" I asked him. "You were sleeping so soundly a while ago."
"I know," he pouted, "but my thoughtless fiance went off and left me all alone, letting our bed get cold."
"The bastard," I cooed, leaning in to kiss him. "Wanna go back to bed?"
"I'm awake now."
"Who said anything about sleep?"
"But I'm not tired," he grinned.
"You will be," I smirked.
"I don't know," he began dramatically. "I've had some rest now, and I may be up a long time."
"Even better," I smiled.
"Maggie!?" I heard him shout. In his overpriced shoes, I heard every step on the way into the office. A second set of sounds accompanied him--perfect, the bitch was with him. When I heard the door open, I could hear the people in the waiting area whispering under their breath. The minute the door shut behind him, he bellowed, "What in the hell are you doing here?" Obviously, he was talking to JC.
I spun around in his fancy Italian leather chair and faced the pair of them. "Because I invited him." I added, with a smile, "He wanted to watch."
She snarled venomously. If looks could kill, JC would have been a goner. "What in the hell is the meaning of this?"
JC just shrugged and smiled. "Don't know. He wouldn't tell me."
"Where is my secretary?" Phillip asked, eyes furious. "Never mind, I don't care. Come on, we're calling the police."
"Three million, two hundred forty-eight thousand, five hundred sixty-seven dollars and nineteen cents," I said coolly, knowing that for once in my dealings with my sister-in-law, I had all the cards, and the deck was stacked heavily in my favor. Gail kept walking, but even from behind, Phillip blanched. His hands went white in seconds.
"Come on," Gail barked.
"I think your husband is suddenly very interested in what I have to say," I smirked.
"Well, I don't give a . . . ," she started, before Phillip's hand gripped her wrist almost hard enough to draw blood. "Shut up," he said flatly.
"For a man that graduated, oh, yes, last in his law school, I expected better, Phil," I taunted.
"How did you find out?" he asked, the conviction gone from his voice.
"You really should be more careful," I smiled, standing and patting the back of his chair, motioning for him to sit down. He shook his head slightly, in some pathetic attempt at defiance. "After all, Phil," I smiled, emphasizing his name, as though we were old friends, as I turned the computer monitor to face him, "if I got in, who knows who else could?"
"What is he talking about?" Gail demanded.
"Wait your turn, Abby. I'll get to you in a second." She was obviously disconcerted at my bravado, and with good reason. "Actually, I'll get to you now."
"I've had enough of thi . . . ," she spat, trying to rise, but she was held fast by Phillip's hands as he pushed her back into the seat, pointing at the icon in the bottom right corner of the screen.
"The tracks were covered very well, Phil. I commend you. It took a great deal of time and resources to dig up what you buried." I had my back to them while I spoke, but I turned and double-clicked the icon without looking, just to watch the look on Gail's face. "But then again, I have a lot of money," I smiled, "and I've had a lot of years for my grudge to get stronger."
To his credit, JC sat silently in his chair off to the side. He was only discovering what was going on as they were, but the shit-eating grin on his face concealed that all too well. "As you can see, Gail," I paused, making fun of the name, "I've gotten hold of everything you've left behind--arrest reports, psychiatric profiles, hospital medical records, and bank receipts. The nice, not so neat connect-the-dots that paints the nauseating picture of Gail St. John as the Abigail McDonnell she really is."
"And just what do you propose to do with this?" she asked smugly. "The worst you can do is tarnish my reputation."
I curled my nose at her. "Thank God you didn't say virtue. I don't think I could have stomached it." I smiled. "But you're right, this isn't all that much. At least, it wouldn't be, if your precious image among your societal circles wasn't so important to you."
"Like they'd care," she gritted.
"Oh, they would," I smiled knowingly. "You know, Phil, you really should have insisted Abby didn't use your office computer to do her invitations for all of your high society functions. I mean, really, when I uploaded your address book into my e-mail account, I couldn't even distinguish which ones were her stuck-up friends and which ones were your business associates and partners."
I sighed despondently, "Oh, well, it doesn't really matter." Clicking on another icon I created, a series of pictures popped onto the screen showing men and women, and sometimes other combinations, in various states of debauchery. "After all, I'm sure both lists would enjoy all of these," I grinned, "since none of them, not one in the dozens, is of a husband and wife."
They both instantly knew where I was going with this, and neither of them said a word. "And by the way, Phil, I figured something like this would be better coming from you," I said in a lowered voice, "so I changed the access to your e-mail account and sent the IP address to my computer so I could mask it onto mine if I needed to."
I walked to one end of the desk before absentmindedly adding, "Oh, and don't bother canceling your internet account. I sent a money order to them last week paying in full for either twenty or thirty years." His jaw fell to the floor, and I tried desperately not to smile. "If my mother had only known how much I would learn from that first computer she gave me years ago . . . ," I began, "but I digress. After all, that wasn't nearly as valuable to me as the money your late sister-in-law's settlement got me. How else could I have had a team of private investigators following both of your every moves for the past ten plus years?"
"Is that the best you've got?" Gail challenged.
"Oh, not by a long shot, bitch, and don't interrupt me again," I replied calmly. "You're not too bright, are you, Abby? If you were, your husband's reactions would clue you in to the fact that there's more going on here than you know."
She shot her eyes over to Phillip, and for a millisecond, I actually felt sorry for him. Then I got over it. "You should be proud, Abby," I jovially chided. "I mean, every good woman wants her man to be enterprising, and what could be more enterprising than extorting your clients?"
Phillip quickly averted his gaze to the floor, and I continued, "Would you believe our boy's luck here, Abby?" She couldn't decide who she hated more at the moment, so I pressed forward, carried by the momentum. "One of the people he was extorting actually laundered money from the mob. Can you believe it? Right here in our little city--who would have thought it?"
I walked over to JC, who still had his smile plastered on his face. I leaned over and kissed him deeply, thrusting my tongue against his own to get the full effect. The display was infuriating Gail, but she couldn't do a thing about it. I smiled as I pulled away, trailing a hand down his chest and across his crotch before I move behind the desk again. "Your industrious little beaver couldn't let the opportunity pass," I smiled broadly at her in a voice that could have belonged to one of her gossip-mongering friends, "so for the past six years, he's been laundering money, too."
Her eyes widened in utter shock. "Oh, Abby," I started sympathetically, "if you don't believe me, just look for yourself. The paper trail says it much better than I."
"And yes, Skippy," I sarcastically hurled at Phillip, "that's right. The money's been transferred to another account--a new account--that you'll never be able to locate. It's a bit of cosmic irony, really. That money could very well get you killed, but it's in a foreign bank account that only I have access to. Humorous, considering it's chump change to me."
Phillip looked like he was going to hurl. He turned the monitor off. "What do you want?"
"I'm so glad you asked," I smiled as falsely as possible before letting all pretenses drop so my face could convey my true rage. "Here's what works for me. For starters, you're gonna put a reign on that whoring little trollop of yours as far as my life is concerned. She so much as looks crossly at anyone I've ever bought coffee from, Phillip St. John is gonna send an awfully risque set of pictures to everyone he had in his address book."
"Okay," he agreed readily.
"We're not through," I smiled. "Abby, here's what I'm gonna do to you if your husband can't keep his bargain--I'm gonna make sure that everyone in this hemisphere knows your complete bio. To cap that off, I think the psychiatric reports that state despite your irrational hatred for me and Ash, you're perfectly sane, combined with the generous amount of money your husband donated to a judge and the director of the hospital will be more than enough to send you to prison where you belong. Besides, your husband will be right there with you."
She blazed with both hatred and helplessness, and I loved every minute of it. "Is that it?"
"Not on your life, you contemptible cunt," I answered as nonchalantly as humanly possible. "If you two can't stick to the letter of your agreement, I'll make sure the money your husband's skimmed off the top is suddenly missed terribly."
"What are you gonna do with the money?" Phillip asked coldly.
"You mean what have I already done?" I asked, almost as if I really cared for his answer. "Simple. When you leave this office, you'll notice that my cousins, Nick and Drew--you remember them, right, Abby?--have ushered all of your clientele to the curb. As of today, this firm is dissolved. Your partners received the news by courier this morning, along with their sizeable and generous portions of the profits. You've already received a reply from the head of the Tennessee Bar Association acknowledging your intent to no longer practice law." Looking over, Phillip teemed with anger. "You really shouldn't conduct every solitary aspect of your daily life by computer. I mean, imagine what someone could do if they could pull off being you?"
"You son of a bitch," he said, shaking with every word, "you'll never get away with this."
"Actually, you soulless little invertebrate, I already have, and unlike you, I don't leave trails."
"You think so?" he smiled knowingly.
"Yes, I do. And I feel absolutely secure in that decision after I had a private security team sweep these premises for electronic recording devices.
You must really not trust anyone. I mean, to think, four bugs and three hidden cameras in your own office!" The disheartened look on his face told me they hadn't missed anything in the office. "By the by," I smiled, "almost a quarter million dollars of your dirty money went towards paying off Maggie's house, car, and credit car bills. It was the least you could do after all of her loyal service. She left you a really touching thank you bouquet, which I sent to the indigent ward of the hospital."
I picked up the briefcase with Phillip's initials on it and lackadaisically tossed it in the garbage can for added effect. "Also, I set up a dummy corporation to buy this ornate little office of yours a few months ago. The paperwork went through this morning, and it'll be torn down at six tomorrow.
That's just enough time for goodwill to come in and take the furniture and for the law school people to come get all the books out of it. I just don't think it would fit in with the shelter for pregnant teens that's going to be built on this lot. The Ashley Hunter House has a nice ring to it, but I haven't completely decided on the name just yet."
They were utterly defeated now. "Come on, hon," I smiled at JC. "It's time for us to go." He obediently took my hand and started for the door with me. I placed my hand gently on his arm to stop him for a second as I turned around, "Oh, and as for the other three million dollars in your account on Grand Cayman, I wasn't completely forthcoming about the security of the account it's in now."
I managed to restrain myself from laughing at their piqued interest. "One other person knows about it. After all, he's got a small portion of the money. An old client of yours, Phil, who thought three million dollars was more than fair."
"More than fair for what?" he demanded.
"I'm so glad you asked--again," I smiled. "All this suspense is getting tiring. Apparently, I'm paying well over top dollar for contract hits on the two of you. He volunteered to do one of you now, on good faith. I told him that wasn't necessary in the least, and he seemed really happy with my proposal to pay him fifty thousand dollars a year just to keep him on retainer."
Both of them tried to speak, but no sound came, so I inserted my own. "In the event something happens to JC, the girls, or anyone else I care about, one phone call from me is all it will take." JC waited for me to turn the doorknob, but I paused to face them again. "In the highly unlikely event something happens to me, I put another three million of my own money in another account that will go to him the moment I'm pronounced dead."
"Have a nice life, and don't ever rear your ugly head in mine again." With that, JC and I left. As soon as we were safely out of earshot, we started laughing. "Were you serious in there?" he asked.
"On most of it," I nodded.
"Not the hitman, I hope?" he asked, eyes wide.
"No," I laughed. "Get serious."
"Then what did you do with the three million?"
"Apparently," I smiled, "a very generous donation has been made to both Challenge for the Children and the Justin Timberlake Foundation in loving memory of Ashley McDonnell-Hunter and Craig Monroe."
"I love you," he smiled, stopping to pull me in his arms.
"Good," I grinned back. "I'd hate to have to put a hit out on you."
TO BE CONTINUED . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Send all feedback to m_n_hunter@hotmail.com. I'd love to hear what you thought about the inevitable confrontation that so many people have asked me about.