Wicked Fascination

by J. M. Brister

  “Hell no!” Howard exclaimed. “Maybe I’m saying this poorly? I was more wondering…if you wanted to…continue this. Whatever ‘this’ is.”

  Alexis smiled. She sat down her glass on the coffee table and reached out to grab Howard’s hand.

  “I’m game if you’re game,” she told him.

  He let out a long sigh.

  “Damn, I was hoping you’d say that.”

  And with that, they kissed. It was then that Howard realized he was the luckiest damned man in the world, and he wasn’t going to screw up this time.

  7:47 PM

  “Did you hear the news?” Joe Morgan asked Brian on his cellphone.

  Brian had initially thought the man had called to check on Freya, but apparently, there was something big going on that Brian wasn’t aware of.

  He was sitting in his living room. Freya was curled up next to him, and they were watching a movie, though Brian was having a hard time concentrating on it.

  “I’ve been staying away from the news as suggested by my therapist,” Brian said.

  “Well, this is a big one. Andrew Johnson has been arrested. They caught him on camera buying the cellphone he was calling James Walker from.”

  Brian sat straight up in his seat.

  “No kidding. Well, that’s a relief. I’ll let Freya know.”

  There was a pause at the other end of the line.

  “You don’t sound excited,” Joe noted.

  “Just a lot going on. Trying to concentrate on keeping myself together. It’s been…harder than I expected.”

  “Do you need me to fly down and help?”

  “Not at the moment, but I appreciate the offer.”

  “Okay, but I keep the offer open.”

  Brian hung up with Joe and told Freya about what happened with Johnson. She seemed pleased but subdued. He wasn’t going to let it bother him, though. She’d be starting therapy soon. Eventually, they’d both get themselves straightened out.

  Chapter 24

  Friday, June 18

  2:34 PM

  Joe Morgan was beginning to feel positive about life again for the first time in months. Sure, Freya had regressed a bit, but she was safe and in good hands with Brian. She had started back up with therapy down in Tampa and was seeing a new psychiatrist who was changing up her medication.

  He sat in his office at Morgan Books Headquarters, trying to get some work done. Joe had missed a lot in the past six months, and it had been a huge game of catch-up the entire time. Luckily, his administrative assistant had been amazing in keeping things organized, and he had a lot of good people under him who kept the ship running smoothly.

  Joe was beginning to dive into another pile of work when his administrative assistant, Amanda, knocked on the door. She was middle-aged and put-together, wearing a smart gray pantsuit and gray blouse underneath. She had a tablet in her hand as she stood at the door. Joe was lucky to have her on his staff. He’d be lost without her.

  “Yes, Amanda?” He asked, looking at his watch and wondering if he was missing a meeting or something.

  “Oh, Mr. Morgan, you have to see this!” Amanda exclaimed and trotted over to his desk in her heels.

  Frowning, Joe looked over at her tablet, which was running a news stream. What was on it made his blood run cold.

  There was evidence found today at Andrew Johnson’s home in Charlotte that points to a string of rapes, more cover-ups, and possible murders. A scrapbook of news clippings and photographs of dead victims was found in a vent at the home, pointing to ten missing Charlotte women, going back a decade. Each woman in the scrapbook—except for Freya Morgan—was presumed a missing runaway cold case. Police are now suspecting that James Walker raped and murdered each of these missing women. They also suspect the scrapbook was kept by Johnson as a trophy of his son’s accomplishments. Police are now reopening all those cases at this time. Johnson is currently being held at a million dollars bail, which he has reportedly not been able to post.

  “Turn it off, Amanda,” Joe said, his stomach feeling sick.

  He had suspected all along that Freya would have been dead if Joe hadn’t interrupted James that fateful January day. Now, it seemed certain. Joe just hoped that Brian was good about passing the news onto Freya. She was so fragile right now. Knowing that she could have been one of many victims might just break her.

  Chapter 25

  Friday, June 26

  12:01 PM

  Freya stared down at her notebook, pencil in hand. Writing should have come easy to her. She had been an English teacher for crying out loud. Yet, when asked to write about her life, she froze up. She had no idea how Brian was able to sit and write for hours at a time. He simply replied that it was practice. Perhaps she should give this a try so that she could get to that point?

  She was sitting on the back patio of Brian’s spacious Tampa home, looking out at the water. It was unbearably hot, but she felt that she needed some time out in the sun. She was sitting at a table with a large umbrella, but it wasn’t helping with the humidity. Her hair was currently doing odd things in the weather.

  Freya sighed as she looked back down at her notebook. Her therapist had recommended journaling as a way to process everything that was going on. It was also a task that forced Freya to get out of bed, which may have been the actual reason for the exercise.

  So now, Freya sat there and tried to wrack her brain around something that she could put down in this stupid notebook so that she didn’t get yelled at the next time she went to therapy. The type-A student in her didn’t want to screw up the homework assignment.

  Start with the little things, her therapist had suggested.

  Freya didn’t want to do little things, though. It sounded pointless. What else had her therapist told her she could do?

  Or you could talk about things that have happened in your past if you’re ready.

  That sounded even more difficult but probably more worthwhile if she could swing it. Didn’t Brian write novels to help with his PTSD? She laughed at the thought of her writing the Great American Novel. However, she did think she could swing jotting down some of the important events that happened this year.

  Not right now, though. She wasn’t ready for that. Right now, she could write about how she got up and showered for once. That was a victory right there.

  “Hey,” Brian’s voice called from behind her.

  She turned to see him peeking out from a sliding glass door, a dirty kitchen apron around his delicious body.

  “I’ve just made the best paninis of all time,” he told her. “Want to try one?”

  Freya wasn’t hungry, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He had been trying his best to push her out of her funk, and it had almost been working. Almost.

  She was still reeling from the whole world knowing what had happened to her thing. It was a violation in a different way, and although she had accepted that it had happened, she was still depressed.

  “Well, since they’re the best of all time, I guess I’ll have to try one,” she said.

  They both smiled. Yeah, things had gotten a bit better, but it wasn’t perfect. The intimacy wasn’t there yet, and Freya wondered how long Brian would put up with the whole no-sex thing. Maybe she could try tonight to be more intimate with him? Maybe.

  Chapter 26

  Sunday, July 12

  4:45 PM

  Freya was ready. She wanted to write her story down. Then, she was going to read the whole damned thing to her therapist and process all the trauma. A new notebook sat in front of her (she had gone through her first one already), and she had the motivation to put pen to paper today.

  She sat on the living room couch alone. Brian was working on his book, giving her some space. Her legs were crossed, and she had out her “good” pen to write with.

  Looking down at her notebook, she began:

  I woke up slowly and painfully, a fuzzy fog surrounding my mind. For a moment, I almost had forgotten where I was and what had
happened to me. For that instant, all I could do was search my mind, but nothing was processing properly. Then I opened my eyes and saw the stark whiteness of my environment. I glanced down at my body, staring at the thin dressing gown and the IVs that were connected to my arms.

  She kept writing for an hour until Brian interrupted her for dinner. Feeling accomplished, she followed him out to the dinette to eat one of his scrumptious meals. And for the first time, she finally felt some semblance of normalcy.

  8:12 PM

  It was an early bedtime for Brian and Freya. They were both exhausted, and so they turned into for the night in Brian’s beautifully decorated first-floor master bedroom, which was done in blues and whites with a vaulted ceiling. A fan circulated above, and Brian watched it from his king-sized bed in the darkened room, silently wishing that he could be intimate with his girlfriend again.

  “I got a lot of writing done today,” Freya told him as she cuddled up next to him.

  She was just wearing a t-shirt and comfy shorts. The lingerie that he had bought her hadn’t been worn since the mountain home.

  He laughed and said, “That’s good. Me too, which is good because your dad is starting to put the pressure on me to finish up this book.”

  “When do you think it will be done?” Freya asked.

  “In a few months for this first draft hopefully,” he told her.

  He watched as she bit her lip and then said, “So I didn’t throw you off too much then? I feel like such a burden to you.”

  A streak of anger surged through Brian. It wasn’t at her. It was more at their situation in general.

  “No, you’re not a damned burden, Freya,” he said firmly. “You’re everything to me.”

  Then, he reached over and kissed her, softly at first but then more fiercely. He hadn’t kissed her like that since the mountain home—since before he had shot James.

  When the kiss broke, he stared at her in the darkness, desperately wanting more from her. To his surprise, she pulled closer to him and kissed him again. It wasn’t just a quick kiss either. It was long and deep—one that suggested sex was on the table. But that, of course, couldn’t be right.

  “Brian,” she breathed after breaking the kiss.

  “Yes, baby,” he said, his voice low.

  “Will you make love to me tonight?” She asked.

  The question stunned him. He thought he may have misheard her at first, but no, she had asked for sex. What had brought all this on?

  His heart hammering in his chest, he asked, “Are you sure, baby? Are you feeling up to it?”

  She smiled and said, “Yes. I’m tired of being an idiot and allowing things that have happened to me previously in my life dictate how I currently live.”

  “You sound like my therapist,” Brian said, chuckling.

  “No, I sound like mine,” she said playfully.

  “Oh, you are feeling spunky tonight,” he commented, bringing her in for another kiss.

  “I’m serious about this,” she told him, her words echoing in his ears.

  “I know,” he said, feeling excited, his dick straining. “So, how do we want to do this? It’s been so long that I feel like an awkward teenager or something.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” There was a long pause, and then she asked shyly, “Can I be on top? We haven’t had sex that many times considering, and I’ve always wanted to try it on top.”

  “Baby,” he told her, “you can do whatever the hell you’d like.”

  And with that, he pulled her in close and kissed her. Something clicked within him, and everything felt right again. She was coming back to him. After all this time, Freya was finally back.

  Chapter 27

  Saturday, January 9

  10:10 AM

  Freya stood in front of a small crowd of people in a conference room at the headquarters of Morgan Books in New York. She was nervous, but she shouldn’t have been. Her father and Brian were standing right next to her, encouraging her at this moment. She should be enjoying it, not standing there allowing the butterflies in her stomach to get the better of her.

  “Allow me to introduce the newest member of the Morgan Books family, my daughter, Freya Morgan,” her father told the group, beaming. There was polite applause from the group before her father continued. “If you would have asked me a year ago if this could happen, I would have told you a flat out ‘no,’ yet here we are. I’m so proud of you, Freya.

  “For those of you who have been living under a rock, Morgan Books is about to buy the rights to Freya’s harrowing autobiographical story that she has written about this past year. It involves a vicious attack, a suspenseful game of cat and mouse, and…” He looked over at Brian. “…a love story. And it’s all true—right down to the overprotective father.”

  There were a few chuckles in the room at that one. Freya cracked a smile.

  “But you know what? I’m rambling at this point. Why don’t I allow Freya to tell you a little bit about her story?”

  Her father gestured toward her, and she nervously stepped forward. The small crowd seemed welcoming enough, and it felt good to have both her father and Brian there to support her.

  She began to talk about what the book was about, the possible title options (still pending), the release date times, and then took questions about the book. People were surprised to find that she didn’t have a ghostwriter and that she had written the whole thing herself based on her journaling that she had done starting that previous summer.

  When she was finished, the crowd clapped politely. She wasn’t quite sure if she had done a good job or not, but she was glad it was over with. Despite the years under her belt of being a teacher, speaking in front of a room full of adults always made her nervous for some reason.

  The crowd began to break up and Brian hugged her, saying, “You did well.”

  “Did I?” Freya asked. “I felt like I rushed the whole thing.”

  “Nah. It felt like you were in teacher mode,” he said, laughing.

  “Well, I guess that’s what I was going for.

  Brian pulled her in close and murmured, “I’m so proud of you. I can’t tell you that enough. Not only did you process everything that happened last year, you took it and turned it into something positive. Now, other people can draw from your strength.”

  Freya felt her face growing hot, and she nuzzled into Brian’s chest, not caring about the stares coming from some of the lingering people in the room.

  “I’m just happy that I found something to do that didn’t just mooch off of you,” she told him. “Not that I’m not grateful for you taking care of me, but I needed to find another career.”

  “I told you that I could care less about what you do. I’ll always take care of you. But I am glad that you found something meaningful to do with your life—even if that means that we have two writers in the house now.”

  She smiled and kissed him.

  When the kiss broke, he said, “Tonight, I’m taking you out for dinner. I know you spent some time in New York City last year, but I heard that you didn’t get out much.”

  “No, I didn’t,” she admitted, a sudden wave of sadness flowing over her.

  “But first, I’m taking you shopping for something to wear.”

  Freya grinned and said, “Sounds good to me.”

  7:35 PM

  Brian and Freya were seated at one of the best seats in one of the best restaurants in the city. It had taken some pull to get in, but sometimes being famous had its perks.

  Freya looked amazing in a cute little black dress, which was sleeveless and high-backed. Her hair was done up in some fancy updo, and her scarred wrists were showing, though she had chosen a few select bracelets that obscured them. Still, she was out in public not feeling self-conscious about what James Walker had done to her.

  She looked beautiful.

  Brian was a lucky man. He just hoped that he’d be a bit luckier tonight.

  They worked through four courses, chatting abou
t their respective books. Brian’s book was finished, and he was just waiting on his editor to go through it. Freya talked about a possible next book—this time something fiction. He was so damned proud of her.

  When dessert came out, he began to get nervous. There was a jewelry box in his pocket that was burning a hole there. The waiter was already well-aware of what was going on, and there was champagne waiting if she said yes. Of course, that was if she said yes.

  Joe knew what was going to happen tonight too. Brian had asked his permission weeks ago when he had come up on a business trip to New York. Luckily, the older man had been thrilled.

  After dessert, Freya seemed content. She had had a big day today, and hopefully, it would be an even bigger one.

  “Hey,” Brian began, swallowing a lump in his throat.

  “Hey back,” she said, smiling.

  “I know that I came off as a bit of a player when we first met. I hope you don’t think that of me now.”

  She frowned and said, “No, of course not. Why do you say that?”

  He took a deep breath and said, “I just wanted to make sure that you understood that I’m dead serious about this relationship and that I’m head over heels in love with you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

  Brian breathed in again, got out of his chair, and got down on one knee, slipping the ring out of his pocket. He presented it to her. Freya’s hand immediately went to her mouth in surprise, a small gasp escaping her mouth.

  “Will you marry me?”

  For a few heart-wrenching moments, she said nothing.

  Then, she grinned and exclaimed, “Yes!”

  About the Author

  J. M. Brister lives in sunny Northeastern Ohio with her husband, daughter, and two Siamese cats. When she’s not writing romance novels, she enjoys hanging out with her family, editing for a gaming and geek culture website, and spending way too much time playing video games. She is also very active on social media.