by Alice Ward
Nice. Yesterday, they were ready to lynch him.
I was relieved to find the women’s room empty. I peed, washed my hands, and nearly walked straight into Marsha as I swung open the bathroom door. She stumbled backwards a few steps, then met my eyes with a glare.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I demanded. I looked her up and down, a bit confused by her sudden change of style. She’d traded in her usually tailored looked for baggy mom jeans and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled into a low, messy ponytail and her face was cosmetics free.
She must have wanted to blend in with the crowd.
“I came to support Ethan,” she lied.
“That’s horseshit and you know it. You set all of this in motion. You have no regard for anyone but yourself, do you, Marsha? You tried to mastermind your own child’s destruction. Not to mention what you did to poor little Alfie.”
Her eyes widened and I could tell my last comment caught her off guard. “That little boy from your class? You think I was the one who hurt him?” I could tell the confusion in her voice was genuine, but it didn’t slow me down.
“Don’t stand there pretending to be innocent. Ethan and I both know what you’ve been up to. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to my fiancé.”
I pushed past her and continued on to the courtroom. Walt and the bailiff were waiting for me just outside the door.
“Ethan was about to be mobbed, so a few of the guards escorted him and Frank to the car,” he explained. “Officer Carlton waited to escort us.”
“Thank you. I’m ready to get out of here.” I took my uncle’s arm and he gave it a gentle pat.
“I’m sure you’re ready to relax, now that all of this is over,” Walt observed.
“Who said anything about relaxing? Now that I know neither of us is going to prison, I have a wedding to plan.”
***
“Want another glass of wine, baby?” Ethan asked. He stood at the bar cart and poured himself a third glass of sangria.
“No, two is my limit tonight. It’s a school night, remember? Besides, we still have a ton of work to do,” I reminded him. Ethan and I were in a spare bedroom he was converting into a home office. I sat crossed legged on a leather chaise lounge with two different binders in front of me. One was full of wedding plans, the other held ideas for renovating the house.
“In the past two hours, we’ve agreed on a location, finalized the guest list, and hired a caterer. What else could we possibly have to do?”
I flipped through the wedding binder. “Well, we have to choose our colors, decide if we want a DJ or a band, you still need to pick your groomsmen, we need flowers, linens, the list goes on and on. And we told the contractor we’d have our tile and carpet decisions to him by Friday, and we haven’t even opened that box of samples he sent over.”
“Okay, okay,” Ethan relented. “We have a ton to get done. But I feel like we’ve been moving ninety miles an hour since the hearing. I think we deserve to slow down and catch our breath.”
I sighed and closed my binders. “I know. But I have so much extra stuff coming up at work. And we’ve booked the garden for June. I feel like if I don’t get everything in order now, we’re going to run out of time.”
Ethan sat down on the chaise lounge and wiggled behind me, pulling my back to his chest.
“Fine, we can keep planning if you want,” he relented.
I pushed the binders to the foot of the chair and snuggled against Ethan. “You’re right. We deserve a chance to catch our breath.” Just as I was getting comfortable, Ethan’s phone rang. He shifted his weight to one hip and pulled the phone from his pocket. He started down at the screen, obviously confused.
“Who is it?”
“Mark Daniels. He’s the team manager. I’m sorry, Em. I have to take this. Hello?”
I slid forward so Ethan could stand up. He crawled out of the chair and started pacing the room.
“No… no, Emily and I have gotten out of the habit of watching the news. No reporters. We have an app that sends unrecognized numbers straight to voicemail… Really? I had my suspicions, but I never imagined it ran that deep. Yes, it is a shame… I see. Are you sure?”
Excitement grew in Ethan’s voice and he turned to me with a smile, still talking to Mark. “Thank you very much, Mark. Yes. Yes, I agree. Let me talk to Emily and I will call you back… okay, talk to you soon.” He hung up the phone and let out a triumphant yelp.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
He pulled me to my feet and wrapped me into a bear hug. “You’re not going to believe this. Victor’s been arrested.”
“What?”
He released me and nodded, the jubilant smile still plastered across his face. “After the hearing, the prosecutor sat down with Doctor Levin. The doctor gave him enough information for the judge to sign off on a warrant. The cyber division broke into Victor’s email account. He’s been arrested for everything from conspiracy, coercion, fraud, and a host of other crimes.”
“I can’t believe it. This is such wonderful news!” I hugged him again, elated. Ethan squeezed me once and then pulled away.
“It gets even better. Victor’s in deep shit. So deep that the league has ruled him unfit to own a franchise. Seems old Vic has violated nearly every article of that morality clause he was holding over my head.”
“So who owns the team? You?”
He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Victor still owns it at the moment. But he’s been stripped of all control and he’ll be forced to sell the team. Mark is in control, temporarily. And he just offered to reinstate my contract, effective immediately.”
“Is he going to let you play next Sunday?” I asked, my voice dancing with excitement. The Stallions had managed to win their last two playoff games without Ethan, and they’d qualified to play in the Super Bowl. Ethan had been happy for his old teammates, but I knew it killed him not to be able to join in their victory.
“Yep. He doesn’t think my replacement can stand up to Philadelphia.”
“This is wonderful. But what about your probation?” I asked. I didn’t want to put a damper on Ethan’s joy, but I also didn’t want to see him get his hopes up, only to be crushed later on.
“Mark has already spoken with my parole officer. I have permission to travel with the team.” He raised a hand for a high five.
I breathed a sigh of relief and smacked his palm. “This is really happening? Everything’s really working out?”
“It’s really happening,” he agreed. “We’re free, Emily. Victor’s going to prison for a very long time. He can’t hurt us anymore. We’re free to be together, to do the work we love, and we don’t have to look over our shoulder wondering what’s going to happen next. This couldn’t have worked out any better.”
“I think a celebration is in order,” I announced. I refilled our wine glasses and passed one to Ethan before lifting mine in a toast. “To our freedom.”
“Damn right,” Ethan agreed. He lifted his glass to his lips. I set mine down on the bar cart and boldly stripped out of my clothes, holding his gaze.
“I like the way you celebrate,” he told me with a grin.
I sat down on the chaise and beckoned for him to join me. When he reached the chair, I grabbed him by the hips.
“I’m so proud of you,” I told him, staring up into his blissful blue eyes. I unfastened the button of his jeans and slid the zipper down. Ethan smiled down at me and tugged his pants and boxers down his thighs. His hard cock was eye level and I dove for it, stroking his shaft as I ran my tongue across the head. Ethan groaned and ran his fingers through my hair as I took him deeper into my throat.
“Oh God, Emily,” he groaned.
I pulled away and stroked him firmly with both hands. “You like that, baby?” I purred.
“Yes,” he gasped as I took him into my mouth again.
I stroked his shaft with one hand and teased his balls with the other, all the while swirling my tongue
around the head of his cock.
“I don’t want to come yet,” he growled. He took me by the shoulders and gently pushed me onto my back. I scooted backwards on the chaise with Ethan following on all fours. I propped myself up and Ethan buried his face between my legs. He licked and sucked my clit before pushing his tongue inside me. He stroked my clit with two slick fingers, pushing me closer to the edge.
“Are you going to come for me, baby?” he asked, replacing his tongue with his fingers. He found my G-spot and pressed it firmly as he lashed my clit with his tongue.
“Yes,” I cried out. “Oh God, Ethan… yes.”
He increased the pressure of his mouth, lashing and sucking my clit as his fingers worked their magic. I let out an instinctive growl and tugged Ethan’s hair as I came with a gush. Ethan crawled on top of me and cradled my face, kissing me tenderly as he slowly pushed inside me. I was still riding the waves of my first release, and the throbs of Ethan’s cock sent me directly into my second. I dug my fingernails into his back and held tight as he slowed his body.
“Do you need a minute?” he said into my ear and I felt the strain in his words.
“No,” I insisted, rocking against him. “I don’t want it to stop. Don’t let it stop,” I begged.
Ethan lowered his head and ran his lips across my neck as he drove in and out of me. Maybe it was the way he moved, or maybe it was the relief of finally being free from Victor. It was probably a combination. But the sex Ethan and I had that night was unlike anything I’d experienced before or since. We moved together perfectly, as if we’d truly become one person. I’d had multiple orgasms before, but this was different. Waves of ecstasy washed over me like the tides, ebbing just long enough for me to catch my breath before overwhelming me again. My body clenched and curled, and Ethan seemed to grow longer and harder with every thrust. When he spasmed and filled me, I finally understood what it meant to feel the earth move.
Ethan collapsed by my side and pulled me into his arms. I curled around him, my muscles still uncontrollably clenched.
“That was incredible, baby,” he said, still struggling for breath.
“Amazing doesn’t even begin to describe it,” I corrected him. “You may have to move me to bed later. I’m not sure my legs will ever work again.”
Ethan laughed and sat up. He massaged my thigh and a look of shock crossed his face. “You weren’t kidding. Your legs feel like rocks. Are you okay?”
I smiled and ran a finger through his damp hair. “I’ve never been better.”
***
“How’s Ethan holding up?” Uncle Walt asked. “I’m glad his name has been cleared. But I don’t imagine all of the press his parents are getting has been easy.”
“It’s been rough,” I agreed. “But I don’t think the news stories are bothering him as much as the calls from his mother. All of the Montez’s bank accounts have been frozen. Marsha expects Ethan to help her leave the country before she’s indicted.”
“That woman has some nerve,” Walt said, gritting his teeth. He took a long sip of his chai and stared out the café window. Ethan was at practice and Claudia had been called into the ER, so my uncle and I were having an impromptu early dinner.
News of Victor’s arrest spread like wildfire. Several twenty-four-hour news stations had already done hour long specials on the story, recounting all of the past crimes Victor had been suspected of but never charged for. Pundits were in agreement that Marsha Montez was just as guilty as her husband. The FBI had taken control of the investigation, and they were much more closed lipped than the local PD. Ethan and I didn’t know for sure if Marsha was being investigated. But by her frantic voicemails, it was clear she expected to be arrested at any moment.
“She really does,” I agreed. “I spoke to Dickson yesterday. So far, they haven’t been able to ID the female suspect. She’s much shorter than the man and she was wearing a ball cap in the surveillance video, so they weren’t able to get a clear picture of her face. But the Dallas PD thinks they’re closing in on Rhoads.”
“I know you really want to see Marsha pay for what she did to your student. Personally, I’ll be happy just to see her locked up and out of your life. If the feds take her down before Dickson, so be it.”
Our waitress arrived at the table with our food. She set a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup in front of me. Walt opted for pastrami on rye and fries.
“Would either of you like another drink from the coffee bar?” she asked.
We both shook our heads. “No, thank you,” Walt replied.
She refilled our water glasses and moved on to another table. I dunked the corner of one of my sandwich halves into my soup and waited for the toasty bread to soak it in.
“I agree that putting Marsha somewhere she can’t hurt anyone is best for everyone. And ultimately, I don’t care how or why it happens. I just want the Hollis case solved for the sake of the family. They went through hell and they deserve to understand why. However demented the motives were.”
“That’s understandable. How close do the Dallas boys think they are to bringing Rhoads in?” he asked, popping a ketchup-drenched fry into his mouth.
“They’re pretty sure he’s working under the table at a mechanic’s shop in North Dallas. They haven’t pinned down his schedule yet and they don’t have enough manpower to keep a stakeout team nearby. But they’re driving by a few times a day, looking for signs of him.”
“If manpower is a problem, we’ll hire someone,” Walt insisted. “Or I’ll fly down to Dallas and stake the place out myself.”
I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips at the image of Uncle Walt with binoculars glued to his face. “Ethan suggested hiring a PI, but Dickson said it wasn’t a good idea. He said it’s critical that this case is handled by the book. Ethan promised to hold off on the idea for a few more days.”
“Well, if there’s nothing we can do about it for the moment, let’s change the subject,” Walt suggested. “I can hardly remember the last time we talked about something other than police investigations and criminal charges. Let’s talk about something normal, something happy.”
“Ethan and I set a date,” I told him with a grin. “We’re getting married on June eleventh at the Portland Botanical Garden.”
Walt let out an impressed whistle. “Wow. That will be beautiful, Emily. Does this mean you’re going with the big, extravagant wedding Ethan wanted?”
When Ethan and I started planning our wedding, I was shocked to hear some of his ideas. His guest list looked like a who’s who of the most influential people in sports, and he suggested we hire the recent Best New Artist recipient to perform at the reception, which he expected to last two days. I’d immediately reined him in, reminding him that the day was supposed to be about us and our future. I wasn’t interested in throwing the Wedding of the Century. I wanted to celebrate becoming his wife with the people who actually mattered to us.
“Sort of… we compromised. Ethan has a lot of friends on the team, and I understand why he doesn’t want to leave any of the other Stallions out. So he cut the list to the team and other friends. It’s still going to be five times bigger than I pictured, but Ethan gave up on the two days after party idea.”
“I have news on the wedding front as well,” Walt shared. “Claudia and I want to keep things as stress-free and fun as possible. We’re older, and neither of us is interested in having a big formal affair. We’ve decided to get married in Vegas.”
“That’s perfect,” I agreed with a smile. “In fact, I’m jealous.”
“Well, we’re planning to do it over your spring break, so you and Ethan can come with us. Maybe you can talk him into it while we’re there.”
“I can’t wait. But I’m not sure Ethan’s parole officer will give him permission to fly to Vegas. Which is a shame, because I’d honestly love nothing more than a quickie elopement.”
I spooned another bite of hot soup into my mouth and my phone started chiming from my purse.
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“That’s Frank’s ringtone,” I announced. I retrieved the phone and answered it on speaker.
“Hey, Frank. You’re on speakerphone. Walt and I are having an early dinner.”
“Walt, you were my next call. I just got off of the phone with Dickson. The Dallas PD picked Rhoads up outside his place of employment early this morning. He postured for a few hours and insisted they had the wrong man. But it didn’t take them long to break him. He gave a full confession. Dickson’s willing to talk us through it if we want to drop by the station. He’ll be there late processing Rhoads’ extradition paperwork.”
I breathed a deep sigh of relief. “Did he tell them Marsha was involved?”
“I don’t know any details, Emily. Dickson didn’t want to get into specifics over the phone.”
“How far are you from the station?” Walt asked him.
“I could be there in twenty minutes.”
“Emily and I are a little farther out. Meet you there in half an hour?”
“Sounds good to me,” Frank agreed.
The line went dead and Walt met my eyes with a wide smile. “It’s finally over, kiddo. The Hollis family will have their closure and you and Ethan will be safe from his monstrous mother.”
“Ethan… I have to call Ethan. He’s still at practice, but I should probably leave him a message.”
I was surprised when Ethan answered his phone on the first ring. “I was just about to call you.”
“I’m with Uncle Walt. Frank called and—”
“Asked you to get to the police station,” he finished. “I know, I’m already here. Detective Dickson called me out of practice about an hour ago.” Ethan sounded defeated, and panic rose in my chest.
Not again. This is supposed to be the end of the nightmare. I swear to God, if Marsha has framed him for something else…
“How bad is it, Ethan?”
“It’s not bad… it’s surprising. We were way off track, Em. It’s over now, but we were way off track.”
Ethan was silent for a moment and I heard Dickson’s muffled voice in the background.