Breaking Free

by C. A. Mason

  She moaned, the noise vibrating the back of her throat and making my cock twitch. She rolled her tongue over my slit before she whispered, “You taste so good. I love the way your cock feels in my mouth. I can’t wait to make you come. Come on, give it to me.”

  As if I had a choice. No woman had ever sucked me off the way she was. I wrapped my fingers around the metal headboard, gripping tight to gain leverage. If she wanted it, she would get it.

  “Yes, oh God, yes,” she said, licking my shaft between thrusts. “That’s it. Fuck my mouth.”

  I did fuck her mouth… like it had never been fucked before. I exploded my come shot so far down her throat she couldn’t swallow fast enough. “Take it, baby, take all of it. That’s it. Yeah. Suck me dry.”

  She continued to work me over until my cock was soft and I felt like whimpering. Sitting back on her heels, she licked her lips with a mischievous grin. “Hmmm, that was so good. Why have you been holding out me?” She glided her hands over her ribs, between her legs. “I may have to do that more often.”

  I watched her, dangerously close to losing my mind. She was touching herself, and I wanted to be the one touching her. After what she’d just done to me, it was my turn to blow her mind.

  “In fact,” she whispered, “I may start sucking off every guy I go out with.”

  “Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

  “What’s wrong?” She thrust two fingers inside her opening. She routinely said things to piss me off, claiming it turned her on to watch me get fired up. “You don’t wanna think about me sucking off other guys?” She closed her eyes as she pressed the pad of her thumb into her clit, working the little nub back and forth. “Hmmm, but I like it. I like the taste and the smell and the way it feels in my mouth.”

  Fuck. My cock was getting hard again, but the venom she was spewing made me want to throw her down on the bed and drive any thoughts of another man’s dick out of her head. “Shut the fuck up, Maura.” I rarely swore at her in anger, but she was pushing me too far.

  “You’re so hot when you get all possessive,” she said, smirking. “What’s wrong? You can’t think about me doing this with another guy?” She sank down on my hard cock without warning, forcing the air out of my lungs.

  “You won’t do this with another guy,” I vowed. “Because if you do, I’ll hunt him down and kill him.” We’d had that conversation before. She knew how I felt about sharing her. It wasn’t going to happen. Ever.

  “And I told you, you can’t tell me what to do.” She rode me hard and fast, driving all thoughts out of my head. “I can fuck whoever I want, whenever I want.”

  She kept reminding me she wasn’t my girlfriend. She claimed she was too young to be in a committed relationship, but when she was in my bed, she was mine. When we were out of bed… she was still mine. ‘Cause none of those punk-ass college kids she hung out with would be stupid enough to cross me.

  “Try it, princess.”

  “Oh God, I’m gonna come!” She threw her head back, her tight pussy clenching me, throbbing around me.

  Within seconds, I was blowing my load inside her. “Don’t move. You’re gonna take every last fucking drop.” I was still pissed that she had the nerve to talk about other guys. I would make her pay. Later, she’d be the one cuffed, and I’d ravage her sexy little body as she vowed over and over that her body belonged to me.

  Shit! It was just a dream. I woke up tangled in a sweaty sheet and staring at a dirty white ceiling. The oppressive hopelessness closed in on me. My dream wasn’t a fantasy. It was a memory from one of the first times we’d been together, long before we’d admitted we loved each other. It had been years since I’d been with Maura, but she visited me in my dreams almost every night. Probably because she was the last lover I’d had.

  As I tried to push Maura out of my head, other thoughts infiltrated, as they always did. You have the right to remain silent. Rape. Kidnapping. Forcible confinement. First-degree murder. Guilty. Life in prison without the possibility of parole. The words ran through my head like a sick mantra as I hovered between asleep and awake, hoping to escape to my dreams again.

  This wasn’t my life. It couldn’t be. But when I rolled over on the narrow cot facing a gray cement wall, I realized it was my life. I was a dead man walking, just going through the motions and trying to figure out how to survive until I found a way to clear my name.

  “Cooper,” a guard said, unlocking my cell. “Get up. Your lawyer’s here. He says it’s important.”

  “It must be if he hauled his lazy ass out of bed at this hour.” I didn’t know what time it was, but they hadn’t herded us off to shower yet, so it must be early.

  I threw my legs over the edge of the cot. I was 6’2” and two hundred plus pounds, and the mattress had been made for a person half my size. But they didn’t want to hear my complaints. As far as they were concerned, I’d done the crime, so I had to shut up and do my time. Only I hadn’t done it. I was paying for someone else’s sadistic acts.

  I wandered down the aisle between the cells, noting the motionless bodies with no reason to wake up. They all wanted to sleep as long as they could. Every hour of sleep meant one hour closer to death. That would be a blessing for most of the inmates.

  I barely glanced at my lawyer as I walked into the room. He was the third public defender assigned to my appeal in the past eight years. I had no reason to believe he’d be any more committed than the others who’d been only too happy to pass off my case when they were ready to move on.

  “There’s been a break in the case, Cooper,” he said without his usual preamble.

  The old man rarely cracked a smile, so I knew the news had to be big, but I’d been in prison too long to get my hopes up until I had all the facts. I sat across from him. “What kind of break?”

  “Someone confessed.” He let the words sink in before he said, “He raped and murdered all of the girls except Maura. He said he wouldn’t have been stupid enough to let her get away if he’d been the one to abduct her.”

  I ignored that comment. Even though she’d thrown me under the bus at my trial, I still felt ill every time I thought about the hell she’d endured in the back of that van. “What does this mean?”

  My head spun with the possibilities. Was I getting out? Would my name finally be cleared? Could my family hold their heads up again without their neighbors whispering about the monster they’d raised?

  “I’m trying to get us before a judge as soon as possible. You’ve already served almost eight years. You would have been sentenced to ten-to-twelve for Maura’s rape and attempted—”

  “Damn it,” I said, slamming my fist on the table. “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t rape anyone?”

  He held up his hands, waving them in a conciliatory gesture. “I know, I know. I’m just stating the facts. The judge will likely consider time served and grant you time for good behavior, in light of the circumstances.”

  “You’re saying I really could be getting out of here? I could be going home?” Not that I had a home to go to. But hell, sleeping in a cardboard box under a bridge would be better than being confined like an animal.

  “I’d say there’s a very good possibility.” He stroked his chin as he leaned back in his chair. “The only thing that concerns me is the girl’s parents.”

  “What about them?”

  “They have a lot of clout. Money, power, friends in high places. If they decide to contest your release, it could make trouble for us.”

  I had no doubt the Lancasters would be there stating their case and asking the judge to keep me locked up for as long as possible. They would fear for their daughter, which I supposed I could understand. From their perspective, I’d done unspeakable things to her.

  “What if they ask the judge to keep me in here?” I’d spent the years I’d been locked up educating myself about law and business. I probably knew as much about the legal system as my attorneys, but studying business was my real passion.

  �
��He’ll consider it.” The lawyer shrugged. “But I’m not too concerned. The case against you wasn’t airtight. Given the mistakes the prosecution made trying you for those other crimes, my guess is the judge will want to be rid of you before this turns into a media circus.”

  A media circus? The last thing I wanted was notoriety. In fact, my plan was to disappear completely. For the past eight years, instead of giving up, I’d been thinking about what I would do when I was free. I knew what I wanted when I got out of prison, and it was almost time to put my ideas into action. “We need to make this happen.”

  ***

  “Free to go.”

  Those were the only words I heard out of the judge’s mouth. The only words I cared to hear. I was free.

  As I walked down the deserted street to the bus stop, I wondered why the Lancasters hadn’t been in court to contest my release. Not that I was looking forward to seeing them again. I just couldn’t imagine they would want the man they believed violated their daughter walking the streets.

  I considered calling my parents to tell them the news, but it had all happened so fast, there wasn’t time. My lawyer offered me a ride when he learned I didn’t have a welcoming committee waiting for me, and I laughed at the absurdity of that notion. The only people who would care were my parents. My kid brother was dead, and my so-called friends had dropped off the grid years ago. Not that I could blame them. I wouldn’t want to associate with an angry, bitter convict either.

  The walk to the bus stop was four miles, but I didn’t mind. It felt good to breathe fresh air again. Sure, we had outdoor time in prison, but the air there always felt dank, as though the oppressive hopelessness of the inmates had permeated every square inch of the place.

  The bus driver barely glanced at me as I paid the fare and tossed my overstuffed duffle bag onto a vacant seat. No one looked at me. It was as though I was invisible, and I kind of liked it. They didn’t know where I’d come from or where I was going, and they didn’t care. To them, I was just another guy going about his day.

  I pulled a Stephen King paperback my mother had sent me from my bag. I had become a voracious reader. While I preferred non-fiction, sometimes fiction took my mind off my problems for a while, and I needed that now.

  I had no idea how my parents would react when I showed up on their doorstep. Would they be thrilled to see me, or would they be terrified that my release would turn their orderly world upside down? I’d already put them through hell. I didn’t intend to give them any more trouble.

  I had a plan, one they would never know about. As far as they were concerned, I was just moving to a big city where no one knew my name or face. I’d get a job as a laborer, stay out of trouble, and try to save some money. Yeah, that was so not the plan.

  I was so wrapped up in my novel, I almost missed my stop. As soon as I stepped off the bus, I felt sunshine on my face. I knew I wouldn’t take the little things for granted anymore. Freedom. Fresh air. Sex.

  The walk to my parents’ house was a short one, but by the time I got there, I couldn’t bring myself to ring the bell. Even though I’d grown up in that house, I couldn’t just walk in. I didn’t belong there anymore. Besides, one or both of my parents would probably have a heart attack, thinking I’d escaped.

  I forced myself to knock, hoping they would hear it over the TV I could hear through the screen door. My father had retired from the force last year, and according to my mother, he’d taken up permanent residence in front of the TV.

  My mother bustled to the door, wiping her hands on an apron. “Can I—” She stared at me. Stunned. “Oh my God.” Her hands flew to her face as I reached for the door handle. “Matthew? Is that really you?”

  I smiled as I reached for her. It was my first genuine smile in years, and it felt good. “Hey, Mama.”

  “Oh my God! Matt,” she called to my father. “Come quick. He’s here. He’s really here. Oh, I prayed this day would come.” She patted my back as she stood on her tippy toes to squeeze my neck. “I just knew that if I prayed long and hard enough, God would eventually grant my wish.”

  My mother was a devout Christian who believed that God had a plan for everyone. I couldn’t imagine how my mother had justified losing my little brother in the prime of his life, but without her faith, my mother wouldn’t have been able to endure it. I allowed her to extol the virtues of religion without telling her how I really felt about it.

  “Lord have mercy,” my father said, leaning into the doorframe for support. “I can’t believe my eyes. What are you doing here? How did this happen? Please tell me you didn’t—”

  “No, I didn’t escape,” I said, laughing. Laughing? Was I really laughing? The sound was so foreign, I could barely believe it was still possible. “Someone else confessed to murdering those girls.”

  “I knew it,” my mother said, squeezing my arm as she bounced on her toes. “I just knew the truth would come out.”

  “But there’s more to the story,” my father said, eyeing me shrewdly. As a career cop, of course he’d know I was trying to hide something. “What is it?”

  “This guy said he had nothing to do with Maura’s case.” I shrugged as if I couldn’t care less. I couldn’t let them know how much that still hurt. “The main thing is I’m free.”

  “Yeah, but you have a record,” my father said, sighing. “That’s gonna make it tough to find a job. And what about parole? You have to check in, right?”

  “Yeah, I do.” But I didn’t intend to. I intended to go so far underground, they’d never find me. I’d given the justice system a chance to work, and it had failed me. I wouldn’t play by their rules anymore.

  “Enough about that,” my mother said, guiding me into the living room. “Can I get you something to eat?”

  Real food. My mama’s home cooking. My stomach rumbled at the thought. She must have heard it, because she smiled.

  “I made a roast beef last night. Let me fix you a sandwich.”

  “Thanks, Mama.”

  My father was still standing in the doorway, and he glanced at my duffle bag.

  “Don’t worry, Dad. I don’t intend to stay here.”

  His ruddy cheeks gave him away. That was exactly what he’d feared. “Well, you know you’re welcome to, but—”

  “I can’t start a new life here. Everyone knows my name, my face. They all know what they think I did. I need to start over in a big city, somewhere where no one knows me.”

  My father sank into a worn old armchair that had a permanent indent from his ass. “Yeah, but what about your parole officer? You have to check in with him.”

  “I will,” I assured him, knowing full well I wouldn’t. Some would say I was crazy to risk being a fugitive, but I had a scheme that would allow me complete and total freedom. I intended to reinvent myself. “I won’t move that far away, just far enough to get a little distance from these close-minded—” I bit my tongue, knowing how much my father still loved the citizens of the town where he’d been born and raised. “People. I’ll get a job as a day laborer, save some money—”

  “About that,” my father said, looking thoughtful. “I have something for you.” He walked over to an antique desk in the corner of the room. He extracted a key ring from his pocket before fitting one of the small keys into the lock and pulling an envelope from the drawer. “When your grandmother died, you know we sold the family farm to a developer.”

  “Yeah.” I hated that I couldn’t even go to my paternal grandmother’s funeral. We’d been close when I was growing up; I’d even spent some summers with her after my grandfather died. I knew she’d hoped I would take an interest in the family farm, but just like everyone else in my life, I’d disappointed her. “What about it?”

  “Your grandmother’s will was very specific,” my father said, turning the envelope over in his hands.

  My mother returned with a plate piled high with fresh veggie sticks and a sandwich on her homemade bread. Even though I was salivating, I was dying to know what my
father was getting at. Sitting on the arm of the chair beside her husband, she placed a hand on his shoulder.

  “You know how fond she was of you, Matthew. She never believed you could do the things they’d accused you of. She said you were a good boy, and they’d realize their mistake in time.” Placing a hand on his wife’s knee, he said, “Just like your mama, she was a woman of faith. She believed God would set you free, and apparently she was right.”

  God or an inmate on death row with nothing left to lose? I had no desire to argue semantics.

  “So her will stated the farm was to be sold and her assets divided among her only living relatives. That means me and your mama split everything with you.”

  I couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard of this before. My grandmother had been dead for almost eight years. Her farm was on almost a thousand acres of prime land. “I don’t think I deserve—”

  “It doesn’t matter what you think,” my father said firmly. “My job is to carry out my mama’s wishes, and that’s what I’ve done.” He handed me the envelope. “We invested the principle on your behalf. It’s grown to a considerable amount.” He smiled. “It was a considerable amount to begin with. God’s not making any more land. The developers know that.”

  I looked around the old house. It looked the same as it had the last time I was there. The furniture was still old and scarred. The wallpaper was original. Hell, I even recognized the cars in the driveway. “Why didn’t you retire sooner?”

  My father squared his shoulders. “Why would I? I worked damn hard for that pension. They weren’t going to cheat me out of it.”

  I smiled. My father had always been a proud man, determined to provide for his family on his own terms. I turned the envelope over, almost afraid to look inside. I knew without even looking that it would be enough to chart my own course, and now that I was on the verge of starting my new life, I was apprehensive. I’d never been anyone other than Matt Cooper, and I was preparing to become someone else. Someone I didn’t know. Someone no one knew.