The next morning, Tori lay on the ground under the table, wrapped in a sleeping bag. A fire had been built and they provided her with a pot of heated water to clean herself. The mood almost jovial, the group seemed pleased she had decided to become one of the guys, but retain her prior role as well. As she surveyed the group, she knew her deeds would indeed give her power, but it held little consolation to her at the moment.
Tori poured over the guilt of her actions as she used the warm liquid to wash away the evidence of her transgressions. Her head ached from the liquor, and she thought about her purpose there in the first place; unable to push the thoughts aside any longer.
Her husband and brother were down in Texas, hiding from the men she hung out with, like I’m on vacation or something. God knows they were probably worried about her, at least she knew Michael would be. These thoughts tore at her heart, and she knew she would never tell him how she had cheated on him.
Not in the motel with Enrique. That had been a necessary part of the plan. Not the times Brett had tossed her to them like a dog is given a bone. She could absolve herself from those moments, having no other option.
However, what happened last night, she had allowed, and she did it for her own satisfaction. She could tell herself otherwise, but deep down she knew the truth. She hung her head as she realized she had enjoyed what they had done to her. You’re a drunken whore, and nothing more, she berated herself coldly. And Michael is more than you deserve.
Never before had she allowed herself to take responsibility in that manner. She had never been so ashamed of herself in her life, and she knew she needed to get on with the task at hand, before she became too lost in the role she played to ever find her way home.
Age of Innocence
Awakening alone in their queen-sized bed on the first of July, Michael’s heart felt heavy in his chest. Lying on his side so he could peer out the window on the front side of the house, he had a clear view of her favorite tree. He watched the shadows begin to fade as the sun peeked over the horizon. Spinning his ring on his left hand with his thumb, he remembered watching her as she stretched beneath the limbs, ages ago, with a small smile on his lips.
Rising, he dressed for a quick run and a few sets to start the day. He had been struggling to keep their routine the best he could in her absence, and lying in bed pining over her was not an option. Taking a quick round of the neighborhood, he returned to the tree to do squats and pushups before turning to rest against the rough bark.
Tori had only been gone a few weeks, but for Michael it had seemed an eternity. His four house guests had reluctantly accepted the rules he had finally seen fit to give them, and were keeping to themselves for the most part, content to work on their music in the tiny shop or lounge around watching television in the small living room during the day.
Michael had quickly become bored with babysitting the men. He had also grown tired of feeling at the mercy of his thoughts and fears. Leaning against the tall mesquite to recoup after his workout, he considered his options. There’s gotta be something around here that I can do; some task that’ll keep me busy and still make a difference down the line.
Watching the light of early morning grow brighter, he realized he needed to put his efforts into building towards their future. Since the shop was otherwise engaged, he needed something else to put his hands on, and after a few dazed moments of staring at their quaint domain, he knew the thing that would do the trick.
Michael had never really been into school, preferring the carpentry and shop classes that had paid off so richly as he and Tori had remodeled their home. It had been that success that sparked his interest in the old Victorian style house that Marge maintained alone. Standing from his reclined position, he made his way back inside to shower and change before he rode over to make his intentions known.
His mind still deep in thought as he dressed, Michael stood in the bedroom that the couple shared, staring into his wallet at the white piece of paper hidden there. Keep this safe for me, her note read. She’s coming back. Peering at the scrap, he ran his finger across her smooth print, allowing it to give him strength to face the day. She has to be coming back.
Back outside, Michael climbed onto his bike and rode the few blocks over, past the café, to visit the older woman. The morning quiet in the sleepy town, the temperature remained low, but would climb with the sun as it moved high enough to bring on the heat of a mid-summer afternoon. Taking the short flight of stairs of the porch in twos, his heart began to pound with excitement.
Having a look around, he had already begun to survey the amount of work that would be needed to make the house their home. Michael rapped lightly on the screen door as he thought about the older woman who resembled his own mother to a degree, and how the events of their lives had entwined and unfolded.
The couple had visited with Marge on the night of their wedding reception. Thinking back, he recalled how she informed them of her late husband’s fondness for his wife. George had sold the shop to them solely due to her bold moves and refusal to allow him to turn her away. Perched on his couch, she had stared at him with crystal blue orbs of hope, drawing him in and bending him to her will. Tori has that effect on people and can often get her way with just a look.
Afterwards, on their way to New York, Michael had made up his mind that the couple should someday have the house. They would pour their love into it as they had done for the shop and small dwelling behind it, bringing life back to the old and neglected structure. Yeah, this’s a good plan, I’m sure of it, he grinned eagerly.
Snapping his attention back to the elderly woman who stood staring at him through the wire screen, Michael gave her a wide smile and a jovial greeting, “Good morning!”
She eyed him suspiciously, “Well, this’s a surprise. You here alone?”
Michael only nodded in an exaggerated fashion and moved away from the entrance so she could join him on the porch.
Seeing he intended to speak to her, Marge pushed the door with a labored shove and moved out to join him on the veranda, then took a seat on the swing directly. First seeing to it that she rested comfortably, Michael then sat, back leaned against the corner post of the railing facing her, right foot dropped onto the next step in a relaxed position.
He opened the conversation in a friendly manner, making small talk, “So, how’ve you been doing?” He held his smile firm, noting she had not returned his warm greeting.
A shrewd woman, she spat in a clipped tone, “Now, I know you’ve got somethin’ up yur sleeve, no other reason fur you t’ be here,” glaring at him while she waited.
Michael briefly paused, wiping at his lips with his nervous fingers, “Indeed I do. I want your house,” his brown eyes flashed with excitement.
The older woman stared at him slack jawed, not accustomed to the forwardness of the stranger who was obviously not from around the small town and its simple way of life. She knew Tori had used an accent similar to a local to convince her husband to sell her the garage, but the pair were outsiders. It had later been a point of contention between the older couple when it became obvious that she had been conniving and deceitful to gain the old man’s trust and approval.
Georgie thought it was funny, how she tricked ‘im and made ‘im look foolish. Her husband felt it had been a bold move on the part of the young woman, an act that showed her earnestness and true desire to follow her dream. He had liked that about the girl, and admired her deeply for her intrepidity and hardworking nature.
Glaring at Michael, Marge drew a deep breath, allowing her eyes to take in the dilapidated state of the wood that could be seen from her vantage point. Absently, she asked, “You know this house’s called a Victorian… Th’ Age o’ Innocence.”
Giving her a small smile, he encouraged her to go on, “So it is. I take it that means a great deal to you.”
Shrugging slightly, she explained, “This house is a reflection o’ simpler times, when women were meek, an’ they was submissive.” Her wo
rds held a sharp edge, and she glared at the younger man, knowing his wife to be neither of those things. “I never liked that girl, not frum the moment I laid eyes on ‘er. She’s a devious wench, an’ there ain’t no way o’ her livin’ in my home. Makes me sick t’ m’ stomach, even t’ consider it.” She hardened her heart to the idea of the couple ever owning her beloved palace as long as she lived to prevent it.
Michael sat on the step, nodding to the matriarch’s assessment of his bride. When she had finished her scathing torrent, he smiled. “Yeah, I get how you could see her that way. But I believe that you’re truly a good soul, and so I’m about to share something with you that no one else in this tiny town knows.”
Marge’s grey eyes bore into him, “Unlikely you’ll change m’ mind, but by all means, have yur say.” She wafted a shaky, crinkled hand at him as she spoke.
Nodding, he leaned forward slightly as he explained, “My wife needs this house. I completely agree with your assessment, your description of the way women were meant to be, and I’ll be the first to admit, she’s never been like other women. Never been… respectable.”
He rocked his jaw side to side as he considered his words carefully, “But Tori’s hand was stacked against her when she was a little girl, and a man who wanted her for a dark purpose stepped in and changed her destiny.”
Marge blinked at him, unreadable at the moment.
Michael used his hands to illustrate his story and support his cause as he pushed on. “He murdered her parents and covered his tracks, taking her before she was even old enough to go to school. Took her away from everyone and everything she knew.”
“They took south, to Brazil, and raised her in a primitive camp, teaching her the things she would need to be and do the things they wanted her to do. And when she was ready, they inducted her into the group, taking her brutally against her will… repeatedly beating her and forcing themselves on her, until it was clear she had no choice but to accept the fate they had in store for her. You said she should be submissive, and I attest to you that she was, or they’d’ve killed her.”
The things he described gave Marge a chill, and she became visibly shaken by his gruesome tale. She had lived a sheltered life, not having known such brutality truly existed in the world from her simple and protected point of view. Seeing her shifting features, Michael adjusted his tone.
He explained calmly how the girl had gone along with the whims of the coldhearted swine, “And finally, when she couldn’t stand anymore, she raised her hand against them to gain her freedom. She left their bodies soaked in blood, and even tried to end her own life out of guilt and shame.”
“But she was saved. And now she struggles to find a new life; a new way to live, if you will.” Drawing close to the end, he indicated the wide expanse of the world with a wave of his hand. “She’s out there right now, somewhere. She’s workin’ to keep others from finding this place, to preserve the peace she found in our little town, in hopes that she might someday return to it forever.”
“She needs this house,” he stated again. “She needs the chance to make a choice, to live the life she wants, not the life she is forced to endure. You have all given her so much, even more than you can possibly imagine, taking her in as you have. Her first meal with a family, the one we shared after George’s funeral. It meant so much to her.”
Marge stiffened, recalling how angry she had been that Trish had brought the whore into her home to dine with her beloved kin on such an occasion. Staring at him with pursed lips, she said nothing, keeping the memory to herself in her forced silence.
“We want to restore it,” he stated calmly. “That’s what she does. She takes things, and she fixes them. The small apartment and the garage; we made them new again. It’s what she does with the motorcycles that she rebuilds, taking the broken and mending it. It’s what this house can help her do for herself. It can help her find her inner innocence.” Michael used the woman’s own words against her. Tori isn’t the only one who can be persuasive.
He inhaled deeply, seeing the softening of the older woman’s jaw as she listened. Shaking his head slightly, he asked, “Would you deny someone you loved the chance to get better? Time to recover from an illness?” He saw the look of pain that shot across her creased features, knowing she thought of her late husband.
“Tori has the chance to heal, to move beyond that horrific past. Would you give her that? This woman I love so much, I would risk everything we have? You must know that telling you this is a risk, but it’s one I had to take.” He pushed on, his brown eye’s pleading as he had watched Tori’s do long ago. Staring at the elderly woman, he could see she wasn’t ready to give in.
Rising from the step, he knew he had time to let her stew on the matter. “I don’t expect an answer at this exact moment. I’ll come back to help you with the yard work, and whatever else you might need a hand with in a few days.” He presented her with his best smile as he turned to go.
Giving him a sour scowl, “I don’t need yur help,” she snapped at him, “I got family that’ll do that fur me. I don’t need nothin’ frum you.”
With a small wave, Michael left her to think about what he had said. A man of his word, he would return in a few days, look after her as he had promised, and hopefully in time acquire that place of serenity his love so desperately needs.
Fallen Angel
Tori felt beaten, realizing she could not control her physical urges. Once the sun set, she could only think about two things: liquor and sex, and not necessarily in that order. Her purpose with the group quickly become jumbled, as she took the men at will, fully understanding she held a great power over them, and they over her.
She had always known she could use her body to get her way at times, but now it came too easy. They watched her, lust in their eyes, and she ate it up like a kid with a bucket full of Halloween candy. This is so different than the Dragons. Jesus Christ, how do I stop it?
Enrique would have liked to say he felt disappointed, but deep down, he seemed more pleased with the outcome than she did. She could see a side of him that had been hidden in LA, and it did little to boost her trust in him, as she realized it did not bother this man to share her, and she found herself avoiding him whenever she could.
Brett, however, wasn’t happy, growing sullen as he realized she did not truly belong to him by choice. To make matters worse, the group often deferred to her judgment rather than his. He had never been heavy handed with the Scorpions, the leader more or less by appointment. No one had ever challenged him for the lead. That foundation had become unstable, and he did not like the way it felt, knowing she could topple him at will.
Tori could tell Brett felt threatened, and made it a point to pull him aside to a private corner in the early darkness of their latest makeshift camp. She intended to allow her body to do the talking, confident that she could ease his mind with a little physical persuasion.
Kissing him, she ran her hands easily over his tense limbs. Catching her fingers, he chided, “I really don’ wanna be with you.” She only smiled, and pulled away, opening and spreading their sleeping bags on top of one another. She bent over so that her rear end waved around extensively in the process. Kicking off her boots, she stood them upright, next to the pallet, and looked up at him with big blue eyes.
Brett stared down at her, willing himself to walk away. She had given up on the makeup almost as soon as they left Ohio, and he could see the scar that covered her left eye easily in the dim light. Always beautiful to him, he swallowed hard as he became conscious that his feet were planted unmovably on the spot.
Rising to her feet in front of him, she ran the fronts of her fingers firmly along his legs to his waist. Pausing there, she slid them around behind for a moment, a weak embrace that pushed her breasts lightly against his chest as she breathed into the soft curve of his neck.
He could feel the stiffness of her nipples teasing him through their shirts, and he reluctantly realized his body had responded to her
, sensing his pants begin to tighten. Grasping the hem of his tee, she lifted it up and he raised his arms, allowing her to pull it off and drape it over the tops of her boots.
Struggling to hold himself together, he took a step back, but she only used the opportunity to unhook his belt buckle and slide it off as well. Closing the distance between them, she nuzzled his ear, blowing warm air against it, almost purring. She was taller than him, a fact that had always excited him a little, and as her fingers danced across his bare skin, he could feel his resolve slipping away.
Pulling at his jeans, she freed the button and unzipped the front, her fingers pushing down to wrap themselves around his expanding flesh. She panted, her excitement evident. She toyed with him, causing a small amount of sticky liquid to ooze from his stiff shaft, and he lost all hope of resisting her.
His hands raked across her waist roughly, tugging at her shirt and hoisted it over her head. Unclasping her bra, he freed her mounds of womanhood, running his digits across them, his hunger growing.
Tori released him long enough to remove her own pants, lying on the ground to kick her way out of them. Tossing them aside, she rolled up onto her knees, clutching the sides of his and pulling them down so that he could feel the cool night air on his nakedness, her mouth tantalizing his tender skin.
Brett had always felt displeased at the size of his equipment, like he was not worthy somehow, or God had played a sick joke on him when creating him. Tori always made him feel like it didn’t matter, just as she did that night.
She took what he had to offer, never making him feel like it wasn’t enough. He closed his eyes as she worked him, his hands resting on the top of her head. Damn it, he cursed himself. You know this ain’t real for her, why you let ‘er do this t’ you?
Tori slid him out of her mouth, pulling him down onto the mat beside her. She persuaded him to lie flat, and he followed her command, powerless to deny her. Her hands were hot as they moved over him in the cool air, and she took her time to caress and kiss his taught muscles, tugging his boots and jeans off to get them out of the way.
A New Life Series - Finisher Set Page 9