by J. H. York
She set her mug down on the nightstand again, and unbuttoned her jeans. Sliding them down her panties accidentally went down also. She stood for a minute, bottomless, and then removed her bra. Reaching down she picked up her tea and brought the mug up. Inhaling the fragrance of the chamomile, she took a sip. Her left hand had wondered down to her privates, and she was surprised to feel how wet she was.
Placing the mug down again, Lindsey laid down on the bed with her eyes closed. She was touching herself, and moving her hips in response to her hand. Evan was sitting at the pool, putting lotion on. He smiled over at her as he did so. She let her eyes travel over his body, and noticed his bulge in his trunks. Her hand moved faster and she knew she was close. He rubbed lotion down his chest and over his stomach, slowly. Had he been doing it seductively? It didn't matter because it sure felt good right now. Her hand continued to move and she moaned softly.
Her orgasm reached her as she thought about him smiling and eyeing her in her bikini. They had both been checking each other out, hadn't they? Her legs twitched as she moaned quietly. The orgasm had barely passed and Lindsey drifted into the best sleep she had gotten since arriving at the estate.
6 CHAPTER SIX
Bethany got out of bed and quietly walked to the door. She turned the handle and began to open the door. It squeaked a little and she stood still. Trevor stirred noisily and then rolled over. His heavy breathing confirmed he was still asleep, so she slipped out of the room swiftly. She walked naked through her living room, and the moonlight cast it's light on her. Feeling restless she paced around for a minute. There really isn't anything to be major anxious over, right? Somehow the thought did very little to calm her frazzled nerves.
She very rarely showed emotion other than displeasure, but she was feeling rather vulnerable. Normally she didn't let Trevor stay over, so that must be the reason. Vulnerable... vulnerable... As she thought the word her face crinkled in disgust. She had never been vulnerable, even as a young girl. When her Mom had married Roger Chamberlain, Bethany had quickly sought out which of the two sons would be easiest to bond with. That had been smart...not vulnerable. Bethany had been the dominant female in the family for years, and now...well now she didn't know. That feeling was foreign to her, and that was why she was feeling such unease.
Walking over to her large bookcase she reached up and removed a wide book. Where the book had been was a lever and she pulled it. Smoothly a section of the bookcase opened revealing a safe. She punched in the digital code and placed her finger on the keypad for a fingerprint reading. The door opened quietly. Gotta love the fact that dear old dad had connections to the government and military. Bethany smiled as the door moved quietly to expose a safe full of cash. She moved some of the cash to the side and pulled out the 9 mm pistol that was inside.
Holding the gun up she examined it. A smile eased over her face as she turned the pistol in her hand, feeling its weight. She had a full magazine in the gun at all times. Quickly she ejected the magazine, and ejected the round in the chamber. Inserting the round back into the magazine, she quickly and deftly inserted the magazine back in the pistol and chambered the round again. She loved the feeling of the gun in her hand, and the smooth action of the weapon. Holding the gun up she looked down the sight line and aimed. Turning slowly in her living-room she kept the pistol steady as she continued to “aim” at different objects in the room.
A motion from her bedroom doorway caught her eye and she quickly turned with the pistol aimed. Trevor stood transfixed as Bethany pointed the gun at him. A slow smile came over her lips, and Trevor felt unease in the pit of his stomach.
“Ummm...watcha doin' Beth?” He whispered nervously.
She stood silent for what seemed to him an eternity, gun still pointed at him. Finally she lowered the gun and shrugged. “Nothing...couldn't sleep.” She said as she turned around and walked over to the safe.
Tossing the gun inside it she then closed the door and bookshelf.
Trevor slowly relaxed his shoulders and offered a hesitant smile. “Didn't know you had a gun Beth...” He said as he turned to go back into the bedroom.
That's not all you don't know about me... Bethany slowly walked into the bedroom and closed the door.
******
David Spencer, attorney to the late Roger Chamberlain drove his Mercedes up the drive to the Chamberlain estate. These matters were always difficult, but he knew he was going to have to deal with Bethany, and that was something he never looked forward to. He had been with the Chamberlain's for some twenty years now, so the children were almost like his own. About the only time he had seen real emotion from Bethany, well tenderness anyway, had been at her Mother's funeral. Lily Chamberlain had suffered multiple cancer battles and finally had succumbed. Lily had been a wonderful woman, a woman that Spencer could have envisioned marrying.
He had chosen a career over relationships, however. He was an attractive enough gentleman of 56, and kept in shape. Certainly he had the tools if he ever wanted to marry, but he didn't think that a woman like Lily Chamberlain existed any longer. Kind, tender, a loving Mother not just to Bethany, but Trevor and Evan as well, she had lit up the room whenever she entered. Spencer had not known Evan and Trevor's mother. He could imagine her character from the stories he heard, and all accounts indicated she had been a lovely woman as well. Roger had found two gems. Now he was with them again. A small smile of appreciation crossed over Spencer's mouth. He had really liked Roger, and his heart had been heavy at the news of his passing.
When Roger had gotten back from California and had made changes to his will, David Spencer had hoped that the changes going into effect would prove fairly inconsequential at the time of Roger's death. This thought process had been made with the belief that Roger would live for some 20-30 more years. As he pulled up to the estate he knew that the thought process was going to be proven wrong. Obviously Roger's sudden passing was the major determiner. The provisions that were in place now would have probably been moot if Roger had lived another two decades. Spencer put the vehicle in park and sat for a second.
Looking around he spied Evan's BMW off to the left in the guest parking area. Neither Bethany nor Trevor appeared to be here yet, which didn't surprise him at all. He turned the car off and looked over at his briefcase.
“You really gonna put me in a bad spot here Roger...” He said out loud with a small smile. “If you want me to do things differently, give me a sign...” He continued with his joke. He found that joking made him feel a little looser, and he was going to need all the composure he could muster.
“No...? Okay...well I guess I'll go in then.” He said.
He unbuckled his seat-belt, and reached over for his briefcase. He was 30 minutes early for the reading, which was the norm for him. He would have to set up the video and the television, and get the chairs arranged. It would be a small gathering as Roger had left everything to immediate family and staff members. Hefting the briefcase up he opened his door at the same time. Getting out of his car he saw the valet coming over to move it.
Spencer smiled slightly at the man and started walking toward the great door to the estate. He looked around at the land and the buildings, and his stomach tightened a bit. A movement in one of the upstairs windows caught his eye and he looked up. Looking down at him from the window was the newest member, and benefactor named on Roger Chamberlain's will. Lindsey Chamberlain closed the curtain and stepped away from the window as David Spencer made his way up the walkway.
7 CHAPTER SEVEN
Evan walked into the main office with two cups of coffee. He chose to wear a fine blue pinstripe suit today in honor of his father.
Roger had always had a passion for dressing to the nines. “When you look good, you feel good. When you feel good you can do anything, Evan.” He used to say.
The white shirt and navy blue tie completed the outfit, and he did feel good... All things considered.
David Spencer looked up from the desk as he heard Evan com
e in. A smile passed over the attorney's lips, and he nodded a hello to Evan. “I thought you might like a coffee before everyone gets here.” Evan said as he walked to the desk.
Setting the cup down Evan looked to his left at a chair and backed over to it to sit down.
“Thank-you Evan.” Spencer said as he picked up the mug. Taking a sip the attorney smiled. “Mmmm... that's good.”
He set down the mug and looked over Evan's shoulder toward the door. “I know you just sat down Evan, but I do need a word with you in private. Would you mind locking the door? This will only take a minute...”
Evan got up and walked over to the door. Behind him he could hear Spencer rustling and the unmistakable “clack” of his briefcase unlocking. Turning the lock Evan heard the bolt slide in place. He didn't want to turn around. This was the beginning of life without Roger Chamberlain, and Evan didn't want it to start. The sound of Spencer placing his briefcase on the floor next to the desk, and then silence as he waited for Evan filled the room. Evan turned around and slowly walked back to the chair in front of Spencer.
“There isn't much time before the others arrive and I don't want there to be any thoughts of impropriety or questionable dealings with the will. This has to do with a situation that your Father and I discussed upon his arrival from California, when he first brought Lindsey back.” He said as he picked up a small sealed envelope. It was a compact disc. “You're Father made this, and he asked me to give it to you separately...and privately.”
Evan sat stunned for a minute. “What...what is it about?” He asked, even though he knew that when he asked the question he wouldn't get an answer. That's why it's sealed and this is happening secretly...dummy.
The small smile that passed over Spencer's lips confirmed what Evan had just thought. Shrugging the attorney held the envelope out toward Evan. “I don't know Evan, and your Father didn't want me to know. I can only guess as to the contents, based on the label he applied to the package. He said that the less people knew the better. This was for your eyes only.”
Evan leaned forward to take the disc, but Spencer held it up in the air away from him for a second. “He also said that you can open and watch it at anytime, in private of course, but that you might want to take some time after his passing to do so. He said that he didn't want you to pass judgment or alter your natural instincts and thought process.”
Evan sat in silence for a second as Spencer sat with the CD envelope up in the air. Spencer broke the silence and extended his hand with the envelope. “Your dad always admired that you are a fighter, and that you have a level head. He also liked that you have a bit of a darkness to you. He said it might come in handy in this situation.”
Frowning Evan took the envelope. There was a small label on the backside of the envelope. It simply read “Lindsey Chamberlain.”
******
Lindsey's ninth grade year was tumultuous to say the least. Her mother had gotten sick, the first bout with the cancer that would eventually take her life. They had moved from their decent apartment outside of Oakland and into a “more affordable” housing unit. Lindsey and her Mother were on Section 8, and the neighborhood was riddled with crime and drugs. She had not yet become the beauty that she would be later in life, but it was clear she was going to be a stunner.
The other teens in the neighborhood were a mixture of wary, mean, and indifferent to the new “white people.” For the most part the other tenants kept to themselves. Sure there was the occasional shooting, stabbing or domestic disturbance, but Lindsey and her mother were left alone usually. The first year was the toughest, as her mother was sick and she was adapting to the new life change, and the new school district.
Halfway through her freshman year it became apparent that there would be trouble from one group of girls. They had been watching Lindsey for the first few months of school, and then one day at lunch they approached her. There were four of them, and they all were bigger than she was. Maybe it was because she was different, maybe it was because of their upbringing, or maybe they were just mean girls. Whatever the reason they spent the remainder of the year harassing, bullying and even beating up Lindsey.
“You think it's bad now, princess...wait 'til this summer.” Angie, the leader said one day late in the school year after administering a beating.
Lindsey looked up from the floor as the girls exited the locker room, and wondered why this was happening. Her bloody lip and blackened eye were only the wounds that people could see. Inside her heart and will, were breaking. She sat on the floor and tears ran down her cheeks. Looking down she saw a new tear in her jeans, and a bloody knee exposed.
A voice behind her snapped her out of her trance. “Get up Chica...”
Stiffening Lindsey sat still, awaiting some more punishment. “I'm not gonna hurt you. Get the fuck up.” The voice said.
Lindsey turned and looked up as she struggled to stand. It was Francine, from her math class. Francine was of Latino descent, and Lindsey hadn't heard her say three words all year.
“You keep letting them beat on you without fighten' back is gonna shorten your summer...catch my drif' chica?”She asked as she stood with her arms folded over her chest.
Finally standing Lindsey looked at her. “There's four of them and only one of me...what am I supposed to do?” She hobbled over to the sink and grabbed a paper towel to clean herself up.
“Yeah I guess you can just catch a beatin' form them whenev'...or you can stand up to them. Either way you gonna catch blows, right?”
Lindsey had wiped the blood from her lip and was gently cleaning around her left eye. They hadn't been able to catch her flush, so it was mostly a cut. She looked in the mirror at Francine.
“Yeah I guess...It's just I don't know how to fight. I mean I want to fight...I just don't know how.”
Nodding Francine took a step forward and put her hands into her jeans pockets. “Clearly...you flailin' all over the place and leave yourself open... Anyway I can help you if you want. All you gotta do against them girls is drop the Alpha...”
“Angie is stronger and bigger than me...” Lindsey frowned. “I don't know if I can.”
Shrugging Francine smiled. “It's easy snowflake... I'll teach you a couple of takedowns. If that don't work...well get yourself an equalizer.”
Turning around Lindsey looked at Francine with a frown on her battered face. “An equalizer?” She asked.
Nodding Francine pulled her hand slowly from her pocket. The “click” of the switchblade knife in the quiet of the empty locker room was deafening.
8 CHAPTER EIGHT
“Well now that we're all here we can proceed.” David Spencer said.
Besides the family members Rita and Marcus had been asked to attend the reading of the will. Spencer sat behind the desk, and the family was directly in front of him. Rita was standing to the side, as was Marcus. Evan was front and to the left. Trevor and Bethany sat beside him to the right and Lindsey sat alone in the second row.
Spencer took the will from his briefcase and laid it down on the desk in front of him. Clearing his throat he began, “I, Roger Chamberlain, being of sound mind and body do declare this to be my last Will and Testament. I hereby choose to name my executor last, and name the benefactors and their properties firstly.” Spencer stopped and looked over the attendees. “Rita...Marcus...you are named first, and then Mr. Chamberlain has asked that you will be excused from the room. Okay?”
Rita, wiped a tear from her eye. Marcus, loomed large, but both nodded their agreement.
“Okay. Continuing, then. To Rita Mendez, longtime chef and friend of the family, for her loyalty, honesty and commitment to the family and estate I do bequeath the West side guest house and the two acres it sits on. Grounds-keeping and landscaping will continue courtesy of the Chamberlain estate. Furthermore there is a bank account that has been set up with a sum, noted separately and to be revealed to Mrs. Mendez privately by the executor of the estate, to be named later.”
Sp
encer paused and looked up at Rita. She had started weeping openly and was shaking her head.
Marcus put his arm around her to comfort. “Le bendigo, señor Chamberlain ... le bendigo.” I bless you, Mr. Chamberlain ... I bless you. She whispered.
Bethany cleared her throat and crossed her legs.
Spencer nodded. “Yes...moving on then. To Marcus Haynes, Chief of Security, protector of the family and estate, and loyal friend I do bequeath the 1969 Corvette that we always took out during the summer weekends.”
There was a gasp as Trevor looked shocked.
“Furthermore I do bequeath the weapons in security locker #3, which are itemized and listed separately numbering a total of 10 weapons and ammunition.” Marcus was standing still, looking stunned at the developments. “And lastly there is a bank account that has been set up with a sum, noted separately and to be revealed to Mr. Haynes privately by the executor of the estate, to be named later.”
Spencer stopped and looked at Marcus and Rita. “Are there any questions at this time?” He asked as he looked around the room.