Embrace You: Book (Loneliness)

by Alison Cole

  "My Lord, Marcus! This could really happen...you know, we need to make preparations to leave if they get off. We'll have to leave England fast. I want to talk to Tim."

  "Jo. Jo! Johanna! Hold up! Come here and sit down again," Marcus orders.

  I sit down on his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.

  "What? We need to get busy," I remind him.

  "Yes, we do. But we need to think about where we'd go. Make travel arrangements. Make sure our passports are current. Now! I think, if we have to, we can temporarily relocate to New York. The boys would have to join us, if not at the same time, then immediately after. I'm calling Tim and setting up a meeting for here later on today..."

  Marcus calls Tim, Laslow and Linny. Within an hour, they are all here at the house and we're talking about the nightmare scenario that Marcus had.

  "God! I hate to say this Jo, but it's a good thing he had that daydream," Laslow says.

  "It's pretty short notice, but if need be, we can leave the country and go...you said New York, Marcus? We can go there with the bare basics and have everything else shipped. We all have families, so we'd need to take the kids out of school and enroll them in school over there...let's make some contingency plans, for just in case. I hope we won't need them, but, we'll have them, in the event the worst happens," Tim points out.

  "Yes, New York. The city is full of the facilities the band need. We can be pretty damned anonymous in such a large place. We can find houses or an apartment complex with flats to let. I'm also thinking that we'd need to have fake names so that, if Cara and Melanie try to find us, it'd be even harder. Now, Jo and I would need to get an emergency passport for Lizzie pretty damned fast. I'll ring up the Home Office and find out about getting a passport for her. You lot should have passports for your kids as well," Marcus points out.

  Twenty minutes later, we learn that everything is set, save Lizzie's passport. We gather all the required documentation and plan to visit the Home Office' Passport processing centre the next day. From there, everyone goes home and they begin packing and getting all of their paperwork together - we will literally be able to leave minutes after the sentencing hearings, if Melanie and Cara do not get prison time.

  I force myself to focus on my vocal exercises - this is the only way I can keep from going crazy while we wait for the hearings on Wednesday next. That weekend, Marcus and I decide to go visit our families and let them know what we are planning. We start with his family, since his mother tends to be a very nervous, emotional person.

  "Mum, dad, the sentencing hearings are on Wednesday next. Johanna and I are going, but we would appreciate it if you would stay away, because it could get...intense. Also, we came to the realization that they could get off nearly scot-free, except for any requirements for mental health treatment.

  "Dad, we...I am afraid that, if they get off, both women could prove to be a threat to the safety and well-being of all three of us. Therefore, we are making plans to leave the U.K., just in case. It may not happen, mum...it may not happen, but we have to be ready just in case it does. We would fly to the U.S. and settle in a large city where Johanna and the band can find and use music facilities for their practices. We're thinking a large U.S. city, like New York City, so we can be more anonymous, and speaking of that - we're going to use false names over there - if we have to leave here."

  Marcus's mum begins to sob and moan.

  "Mum, this is for the safety of all of us. A crazy woman is fixated on me, and is threatening Lizzie and Johanna. I can't just sit by and watch it happen," says Marcus firmly.

  This message apparently soaks in. My mum-in-law appears to get a grip on her emotions. Swabbing at the tears sliding down her cheeks, she inhales and slowly exhales.

  "I know, Marc. It's just that I'll miss the three of you."

  "Mum, we're only a flight away. If we even have to go. We don't know what the magistrate will decide. He may decide to throw them in prison and throw away the key. We just don't know. That's why we decided to make these plans. If we have to go, we'll go on the European tour, leaving from and returning to the U.S. Mum. You and dad raised me to be a strong man who takes care of his family. That's what I'm doing. Okay?" He tenderly embraces his mother, who returns the embrace.

  "I know. I'll be okay. I'll just need to cry behind the door and I'll be adjusted to it. Just you see."

  From there, we drive to my parents' house. As at my in-laws house, Lizzie settles down to play while the grown-ups talk.

  "Dad, mum, the sentencing hearing is next week. We don't know what the magistrate is going to decide. What we do know is that both Cara and Melanie are dangerous to all three of us," Marcus begins. "That said, Jo, the band and I sat and talked earlier today. Should the magistrate decide that he's going to let them off scot-free, the danger level goes right back up. And that's why we've decided..."

  "That it's time for you to put several thousand miles in between you and those crazy...nuts," my dad interjects.

  I look at him in surprise.

  "I've been having the same fears, Johanna-girl. You and Marcus are right. If you must, pack up and fly where you're safer. Where would that be, by the way?" my dad asks us.

  "The U.S., in a large city. Somewhere like New York city. We can become anonymous, use fake names and essentially vanish," Marcus says. "The band will join us as well. We can practice, work, record and plan tours from there just as easily as we can here."

  "What about your managers?" my mum asks. As she speaks, she swoops Lizzie up into her arms and on her lap for a grannie-cuddle.

  "When we get home, I'll call them," I say. "We just wanted to talk to you and Marcus' parents first. We're going to pack and hope that we can come home, feeling right foolish and unpack everything again."

  We all laugh at what I say - the ironic thing is, we would love to feel stupid. But that all depends on the magistrate's decision.

  "When would you leave?" dad asks.

  "That day, ideally. Depending on flight availability, we'd probably hole up in a hotel somewhere and then go to the airport," Marcus says.

  At home, I make a meal from some of our favorite comfort foods. Because our immediate future is so uncertain, I am feeling the need for something familiar and comforting. Marcus gives Lizzie her bath and we both put her to bed. Downstairs, I am cuddling with Marcus on the couch, just staring into the flames in the fireplace. Soon, we are making out and our hands are roaming over each other.

  "Got to have you now, Johanna! I want it hard and fast. I want to forget all that's happened," Marcus says in a low, grating voice.

  "Take me, luv! I want you just as much. Against the wall - now!" my voice is oddly low and breathless.

  Mere seconds later, we are leaning against the living room wall, yanking all our clothing off. This will be no tender coupling. Our wanting for each other is so sharp and intense that we want it to happen now. As we bare more and more of our skin, our hands rove and tweak at sensitive areas. I am so wet and ready. We work feverishly to ratchet the desire even higher.

  Marcus lifts me as I wrap my legs around his trim waist. His fingers play with my pussy and clit bringing me to a climax quickly.

  I moan softly and allow my fingers to rove over his sensitive nipples and that special spot just behind one ear. As I lick the area under his ear, I feel his fingers moving jerkily against my pussy. Hot liquid slides out of my pussy as I come hard, once again.

  "Oh, now, Marcus! I'm coming!"

  With that, Marcus lowers me and impales me on his stiff, upright shaft. His torso holds me against the wall and we move urgently against each other, reaching for our orgasms. He begins breathing hard, the air hissing out from between his clenched teeth. His cock throbs and jerks inside me as he comes.

  I begin to spurt against his pelvis as my pussy clenches hard around his cock. I throw my head back and moan low in my head. The intensity of my orgasm makes me want to wail, but I don't want to wake Lizzie.

  When our frantic lovemaking is ov
er, we lay back down. My legs are trembling with weakness - I suspect that Marcus's legs are trembling just as badly. I feel waves of sleepiness overtake me.

  "So...sleepy," I tell him.

  We gather our discarded clothing and walk upstairs, our arms wrapped around each other. In bed, I relax under the covers and seek Marcus's warmth...

  Chapter 9

  On Monday, we finally have a practice. However, before practice begins, we sit down to talk about the pending sentencing hearing and how this could affect our band.

  "How many of you are ready to leave if the news is bad?" Tim asks.

  Everyone's hands go up - even Lizzie's plump hand goes up.

  "Good show. Okay, this is what we'll do. Have the equipment and instruments packed and ready to go on Tuesday night, just in case. We should all have our plane tickets by now, so, just in case, we can get to the airport and be ready to go through security screening and customs. I spoke to Nigel and told him what's happening and, while he's not happy that we may need to flee England, he supports our decisions. Initially, we would work with him from the U. S., but eventually, he and our business manager would join us over there.

  "Now, how is everyone feeling after battling the flu?"

  "Good, just coughing," says Laslow.

  "I'm coughing less, but still feel the need for the nebulizer," I say.

  "Progress on all sides. We have water on the side table for anyone who needs it. Drink away and don't hold back. It's better for our vocal cords."

  We began practicing, moving through several songs and two play sets when Nigel rings the outer bell.

  "Hello, all! Are you all ready to start on tour?"

  We all cheer and nod. "Yes! We are!"

  "I just got word earlier today that we will be flying out of Heathrow on Thursday afternoon - I know, that conflicts with your plans to fly out of the country pending the magistrate's decision. My thinking is that, with heightened security, you lot would be save in any European city on our tour. I am in the process of arranging for a British security company to accompany us as we go from city to city. They would man the main doors of hotels, as well as near your rooms. I also want them to man entrances to auditoriums, as well as entryways to the backstage area. I am planning to make photos of both women available to every security person so that, in the event that they try to crash any of our concerts or get into hotels, they can recognize them more quickly and call law enforcement," Nigel says.

  "Nigel, how certain is it that a security firm would be able to forestall any attempts that either woman could make?" asks Marcus.

  "Very high probability, Marcus. I have been speaking with the owners of several British security firms and have requested to see every officer's credentials before I hire a firm. Everyone in this band is very important to me, and, knowing that crazies are out there, willing to harm you lot is highly upsetting to me. I have been working on identifying the strongest security firm so that every officer is ready and able to leave on tour Thursday. I have been speaking to the managers of hotels in France, Italy, Germany, Belgium, Greece, Luxembourg, and every country in which we are scheduled to perform. Every one of them has heard of the kidnapping and trials. They have assured me that security officers are welcome to provide protection. Remember, these security officers won't be protecting just us. They will be providing protection to every hotel guest there, just by their very presence."

  "Yes, that's a good point," says Laslow.

  "Okay, then, everyone. Let's take things one day at a time. We do have a lot happening now. First, the sentencing. Pending what happens there, we either make plans to flee the country or we go home and get ready to leave for Europe the next day," Tim orders.

  With that, Nigel leaves and we resume practicing. By the end of the day, we have our songs memorized. Marcus has a good day as well. He catches up on his backlog of articles. As we go home, we chat, feeling good about the day.

  At home, after we have dinner and clean up the kitchen, I bathe Lizzie. She goes to bed, leaving me free to start choosing what to pack. I choose clothing for a winter in Europe and pack these items. I decide to pack Lizzie's things tomorrow. Marcus runs upstairs and packs his clothing. As he finishes, he looks at me.

  "Johanna, I'm thinking it's a good thing that the tour is so close to the sentencing. We have more luggage, so we can set these packed bags close to the bedroom door - and start packing more bags, just in case. We can pack mainly winter things because it's just as cold in New York as it is here. We'll have time to buy new clothing over there as the seasons change, but we will need much more clothing if we end up staying in the U.S. for any length of time. What do you say?"

  I sighed. "I wish it wasn't so necessary, but I agree with you. You're right. I don't want to wake Lizzie, so I'm delaying packing her clothing until tomorrow. Let's pack extra things for us right now. We can move that to the garage later on. I'll pack my music and a music stand as well. It's a good thing we have a larger vehicle because we can stash all that in the rear before we go to the hearing on Wednesday. Hopefully, it won't be necessary, but at least we won't be caught short of time, scrambling to get out of Great Britain."

  "That's my goal, luv. To get you, Lizzie and me out of harm's way, just in case. The juries did find both women guilty, but until we hear what the magistrate says, it means as much as warm spit in a bucket," Marcus says.

  "Ewww! Couldn't you have found a better analogy?" After we lug several heavy bags downstairs, I cough, feeling breathless. "Treatment time. I'm taking this downstairs," I tell Marcus, pointing at Lizzie's closed bedroom door.

  After my nebulizer treatment, I drink water, feeling better - if a bit trembly. Marcus runs my machine upstairs and, as he comes down, we hear the phone ring. He grabs it.

  "Hullo?"

  "Marcus? It's the prosecuting barrister here. I want to give you and Johanna some preparation, just in case. Both juries have found Cara and Melanie guilty, but that means nothing. The magistrate could decide, based on their mental health diagnoses, to keep them out of prison."

  "Sir, we've been talking about that, actually." He scribbles a two-word note and hands it to me - "prosecuting barrister."

  "And?"

  "Uhh, we're trying to make sure that we're all protected. Beyond that, I'm reluctant to say anything," Marcus tells him. He presses the button to place the call on speakerphone so I can hear the rest of the conversation.

  I exhale in relief. He's being cautious. Good.

  "Okay, then, don't say anything more. I'm grateful you realize that the probability exists for them to be free this week. I'm glad you realize there's danger in that. Too many crime victims have assumed that, just because there's a sentencing hearing, the perpetrators will be locked up."

  I speak up.

  "Sir, we know mental illness is unpredictable. I don't trust either Cara or Melanie to behave and stay within the bounds of the law," I say.

  "Good. Okay. I just wanted to let you know about the possibility. Some magistrates will send defendants to jail while others will take a softer stance. Goodnight." He hangs up.

  "I'm glad he called us," I say. "That confirms that we're right to be making these preparations...and thank you for not saying what they are!"

  "Hell, Jo, I don't know if he's in the pay of the tabloids. No way will I put you or Lizzie in danger," says Marcus.

  We practice the following day, then, at the end of the day, we sit down to talk.

  "Okay, instead of practice tomorrow, we're going straight to the court house. We'll listen to what the magistrate says, and see if he sentences either woman to any time. Depending on his decision, we will either fly to Europe tomorrow afternoon or Thursday. Have you exchanged your U.S. tickets for tickets to Europe?" Tim asks us.

  Marcus nods. "Did that yesterday. I didn't realize the proximity of the start of the tour to the sentencing hearing - I think we've been so focused on illness, practice, and two criminal trials that I overlooked it."

  "It's natural, because
I did, too," Linny says.

  After talking for several minutes more, we all head home. As he's driving, Marcus brakes suddenly, swearing under his breath.

  "What?" I ask curiously.

  "Look up ahead. Those pedestrians aren't pedestrians."

  "Paparazzo? Rag journalists?"

  "You've got that right. Hang on tight..." Marcus makes a sharp right turn and accelerates. I look out the wing mirror, searching for cars in pursuit. I see nothing.

  "I don't see anyone."

  "Good. I don't want them to know it was us. From the front, we look like any largish vehicle. They may not have known it was us. Still, I'd rather exercise too much caution so we don't have slavering dogs at the walls, wanting to get to you and Lizzie," Marcus says.

  We enter the alleyway to the back entrance of our house. Spotting nothing, Marcus enters the key code and the gate opens. After we enter the gate, it immediately begins to close. We unlock the back door and enter the house quietly. Even little Lizzie senses the need for quiet and she says nothing. She doesn't even engage us in her usual babble as we move quietly from room to room, making sure the home is empty of everyone but us. Once we assure ourselves that nobody is in the home, we let out huge sighs. I set Lizzie on her feet and take her jacket and hat off.

  I make dinner for the three of us and we eat.

  "Marcus, would you mind bathing Lizzie tonight? I want to get her packing done," I say.

  "Sure. I'd already planned on that, because I knew you'd need to do that," he says. After the packing is done and we put Lizzie to bed, we spend a quiet evening downstairs. As we stare into the fire, I see several flashes just beyond the front wall.

  "Marcus..."

  "I saw them too. Stay here," he says. He walks to the front window, avoiding walking straight at it. Once he's next to the window, he peeks out, keeping himself hidden. "Ahh! Looks like camera flashes. They can't get over the wall, so they're satisfying themselves with snaps of that."

  "Oh, thank God you thought of putting up a high wall!" I say.