“Angela, I need you to think back to that night in the car. Did you open any of the compartments in the car? Did you see anything?”
I think back, and suddenly I remember something. “Yes,” I barely croak out. He leans forward and gives me a sip of water. “Yes. I looked above the visor. I was looking for a key but didn’t find one. Instead, I found a…” I pause, trying to remember clearly. “A piece of paper with…I don’t know what it was, honestly. Just a bunch of letters, but not words.”
“Do you remember what you did with that piece of paper?”
“I…I think I threw it out the window. Sorry, I don’t remember where, though. I doubt you can find it now.” A titter escapes me. I glance at him, and I see how sad he is. And somehow this makes me very sad and a tear rolls down into my hair.
“I’m sorry I can’t help you more. I wish I had your answers.” The tears fell freely now. “I’m just so tired…” I turn my head away from him and close my eyes.
“Not yet, Angela. You can’t go to sleep yet. In a little bit, though, I promise you,” Jack says, smoothing my hair back from my face.
“I don’t have anything else to say.” I start crying in earnest. “I don’t know anything else about the car or the briefcase or anything else. I just wanted a ride in a nice car for once in my life.”
“I know. We’re done talking about that night. You’ll get to rest soon. I just wanted to hear about your childhood. I wanted to know about the little girl that you were with your mom. Did she ever talk to you about her family?”
“No more cutting?”
“No more cutting. We’re done with that.”
“I’m so cold, Jack.”
“I know, sweetheart. You’ll warm up soon. Please, tell me about your mom.”
“My mom was a kid, so we watched a lot of cartoons.” I smile at the memory of watching cartoons with my mom on our pirated cable.
“We also colored a lot. Most nights she left me with Ms. Marx next door. She had to work. She always told me to study hard so I didn’t have to work at…Pete’s. She hated it there, but she worked there for as long as I could remember.”
“So, I worked hard in school. I like to think I was pretty smart. Before she met Phillip, she would tell me that she would make sure I could go to college. She said she had a plan, something about ‘that son of a bitch.’”
“Do you know to whom she was referring?”
“Not a clue. She never talked about anything outside of the house. I didn’t know anything about Jeremy or Phillip until they showed up one day and Mom told me that they were my stepdad. When we were together it was only about us and nothing else.”
I end up talking to him about all the small details of my youth. He wraps me in warm blankets and gives me sips of water. Hours pass, and I have a hard time telling whether I’m here with Jack or spending time at school or with my mom. My brain is having a hard time telling the times and places apart.
There is a point, much later, when the door opens again and this time the model lady comes back in. What is her name? Shouldn’t I know her name?
I lazily watch her and Jack talking. He’s so different with her. He’s cool, yet approachable. It’s like he respects her and for some reason, it feels like that isn’t something he does readily.
I find her blue eyes on me. They’re filled with sadness and regret. Regret. I have a lot of regrets. I wish I never saw that car.
Jack turns back to me once she closes the door.
“Angela, it’s almost time. I’m going to give you some medicine soon, okay? You’ll feel much better.”
“Almost time for what? Will I get to rest?”
“Yes, sweetheart, you’ll be able to rest soon. Do you want to know who your biological father is? We got your results in.”
“Nah, you can tell me when I wake up. I’m so tired, Jack. You’d think I wouldn’t be since I’ve been laying here for forever.” My head lolls to one side, and my mom beckons me to the kitchen table. I think she wants to color again.
“If that’s what you want then. Let me hook you up to the medicine. Listen to me, Angela. I have some things I need to tell you, and it’s very important that you listen to what I say.”
I peek at him and try hard to focus on him. My mom just won’t quit calling me over, though. I watch him pull a bag and hang it up on the IV bag tree. It’s like a hat tree, but for IV bags. What do they call that thing anyway?
“…need you to listen, okay, Angela. It won’t be much longer now.”
“Oh…”
“I believe you, Angela. I believe that you didn’t have anything to do with the briefcase. I will get to the bottom of it. As a matter of fact, I have the person that I think has all the answers right next door. I’m going to let you listen to me talk with him. It’s the least I can do…the least I can do for you.” Jack leans over me, looking at me closely, his eyes filled with compassion and mercy.
“Okay, Jack.” I barely nod. I can feel a coolness enter my vein at the IV site. It spreads up my arm and disappears in my shoulder. My already heavy eyelids droop.
“I’ll be there in a moment, Mom. Save the princess book for me, you can color the ocean animals one.”
A loud beeping noise pulls me away from her. When I look up again, Jack’s already gone.
I blink and I see our apartment again. I turn toward the kitchen and I see my mom sitting at the table. She looks so young and pretty. I forget how young she really is.
I hear Jack’s voice from far away. “Hello. My name’s Jack and I’ll be asking you some questions. Some will be easy to answer, others not so much. I just need you to be as honest as possible.”
I sit next to my mom at the table and I can’t help but smile because I finally feel like I’m home.
This girl’s ass has my cock so hard.
I wonder if she notices that I’m not dancing with her. I’m just letting her grind that tight ass on me. I couldn’t dance if I wanted to right now, anyway. There’s enough Scotch in me to pickle a rock star.
The girl has her hands on my thighs, her ass pressed against my dick, and her head barely comes past my shoulders. I wrap my arms around her, bringing one hand up to cup a breast and the other to grab her throat. I caress it at first, feeling her heartbeat flutter against my fingertips.
I could just squeeze it.
That gives me an idea for later when she’s riding my cock. “Why don’t you and your friend over there”—I point to the other girl at her table—“come to my hotel room.” Her friend isn’t a looker, but I don’t mind slumming it every now and again. Besides, the ugly ones are so grateful to be fucked that they’re better lays.
“You want me and Jessica to come to your hotel room?” She giggles like it’s the funniest thing. “Why would you want her to come too?”
“I want to fuck you both.” I decide I don’t like her much, so the plan changes to fucking her friend and having her suck me off afterward. Shit, I need some blow before we head to the hotel.
“What’s your name? I don’t have sex with guys I don’t know,” she says loud enough to be heard over the music.
“Richard.” The lie comes easy to me. “Richard Caine. Now, be a good little girl and get your friend to come along. I’ll get us some refreshments and party favors and then meet you outside in twenty, okay?” I give her cherry ass a slap to send her on her way.
I turn and head towards the bar, not paying any attention if she’s going to get her friend or not. I know she is, they always do. Sliding in next to my friend Ed, who’s still nursing his beer, I nod to the bartender to pour me another couple of fingers of top-shelf Scotch. Grabbing my drink, I turn to Ed. “Is my stuff still in your car? I have two chicks that I want to party with.”
He turns to me and I can tell it’s taking all his willpower to not roll his eyes. “No, it’s not in my car. After what happened to yours, I’m not leaving shit in mine. I don’t have a dear old dad to bail my ass out of trouble.”
“Well,
if it isn’t in your car, where is it?” Ed’s attitude is quickly souring my mood and I don’t like it. I just want to party and fuck a couple of ladies. Why does he have to be so stodgy?
“It’s in my coat pocket.” He delivers this with a snort, as if it could be any other answer.
“And this is better because…”
“I’m with you, so getting caught doesn’t get me in nearly the trouble as it would if it was in my car.”
Valid point. I nod my head and tip my glass in his direction, finishing off my Scotch. As I shake his hand good night—a mere formality for appearances—he slides the coke into my palm.
“Tell Maya ‘hi’ for me, when you talk with her later.”
“See you tomorrow, Geoffrey.”
Edward Champlain has been my friend since boarding school. He comes from old money. Apparently one of his ancestors used to be a railroad tycoon or something. I don’t know for certain, I only know that they aren’t as wealthy as they once were and they had to sell off some of their property. Something about bad investments or some such. Who cares? Ed has been my wingman since before we knew how to bang chicks. He and I not only attended Dartmond Academy, we both also attended Ingleton together.
Ingleton University is as Ivy League as they come and Senator Geoffrey Wright’s alma mater, so it stands to reason that his son would have to go there as well. Regardless of what I wanted to study or where I wanted to go, I was stuck going, because no son of his was attending some state college.
All through Dartmond Academy, we were pretty popular, but we didn’t do anything to cause our fathers concern. Oh no, that fun didn’t begin until Ingleton. We used to party all the time. All the drugs, booze, and pussy a man could want. Sometimes we’d even tag team the ladies. This sort of debauchery continued after we graduated and he became my dad’s intern.
Then he hooked up with Maya…and his partying days stopped.
Me? I still party. Just solo. Oh well, that leaves me with all the available pussy. I wish he’d shut up about his woman when we’re out. It’s like he’s trying to convince me her pussy is lined with gold. Honestly, Maya seems like a boring lay, and I’m not interested in anything other than the sex.
The ladies wait for me at the front of the bar like they were told. Just like I knew they would. What’s better, they’re still waiting, regardless of the fact that I’m ten minutes late getting back to them. Women are too predictable nowadays. It’s like I can get them to do whatever I want without any effort, and sadly it’s starting to get boring.
“Hey, ladies. Let’s head to the hotel and get the real party started.” I wrap an arm around each woman. That’s when I notice her.
She’s sitting at the bar, looking very out of place. This is a nice establishment, but the black dress, with the slit up to her hip and beaded edge, screams a society function rather than a bar.
Her golden hair hangs in loose waves down to her waist. I haven’t seen her face yet, but her body is the stuff dreams are built on. Then she turns with her champagne flute in hand, stopping me dead in my tracks. She looks me up and down and she eye fucks me openly.
Completely forgetting about the two women with me, I abandon them to make my way to her. I should feel shitty, dumping the tricks like that, but damn, why have chicken nuggets when you can have lobster?
“Hey! Where’re you going?”
“I’m willing to party with my friend, but no one else. Hey, asshole…”
I barely hear their confused exclamations, my attention completely zeroed in on my new quest. She’s gorgeous. Strike that, she’s stunning.
“Is there a party I’m missing out on?” I ask when I get to her.
She smiles and her dimples give her face an innocence that I’m convinced I will rid her of before night’s end. “I thought there was, but I got stood up, apparently.”
“That man is an idiot. But if you’d like, I’d love to take you out to a party or make one of our own.” I flash her my best panty-melting grin, which is exactly what I’m going to be doing later if I have my way about it.
I’ve never seen her before, and with a face and body like hers, I would have noticed her. I just have to have her. I’ll admit it, I’m shallow and she’s the best-looking thing I’ve seen in a long time.
“I’m sure you would but...I don’t even know your name.” She looks at me through her lashes. Her blue eyes make it clear that she wants me as much as I want her.
“Geoffrey. I’m Geoffrey Wright. And what’s your name?”
“What’s your real name? You’re too young to be Senator Wright. I’m not stupid, you know.” Her face pinches up in an obviously unhappy expression. I want her to smile again.
I hold my hands out in a placating gesture. “No! No, no! That’s my dad. I’m also Geoffrey Wright. I’m just Geoffrey Wright, Jr., the better looking of the two.” I wink at her, trying my best to disarm her with my charm because I want nothing more than to be buried balls deep in her tonight.
Her face relaxes and her grin appears again, this time accompanied by a blush. “Oh! Wow, that must be nice, having the senator for a dad.”
“It definitely has its perks.” I grin in return. “So, about that party?”
She smiles at me, dimples going deep. If I could believe in love, I would fancy myself in love with her at this moment. I’m used to this feeling, though. After a month, at most, of sex and a few dates, it fades. It always does.
“Do you mind if we take my limo? I still have it rented for the night.” She looks at me coyly, as if I might need persuading.
“You lead, I’ll follow.” I stand from my seat and grab her hand to help her do the same.
We step onto the sidewalk in front of the club and the cool night air has the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. She waves her hand and her driver pulls the limo around. Once we settle in the back, we open a bottle of complimentary champagne and toast to our good fortune.
“Do you want to do some poppers?” She waves a slim vial between her fingers teasingly.
“Do we have enough for later?” I ask, raising my eyebrow. I love poppers, but they’re best during sex.
Dimples pocket-deep in her cheeks as she leans forward, nuzzling my neck, her breath tickling my ear, making my cock twitch against my pants. “I have loads in store for you.”
She hands me the vial. I unscrew it and take a deep breath.
My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton balls soaked in halitosis.
Even opening my eyes hurt. The light beyond my eyelids is bright so that all I see is pink. I reach my hand up to cover them, and that’s when I notice that I’m tied down.
“What the fuck?” I’m alert now. I look around the room and it looks like some quaint hotel room. There’s a sitting area and a small dining area. Generic, cheap paintings adorn the walls. I look down and I’m naked from the waist up, covered in a sheet from the waist down. My arms are secured to the rails of a hospital bed, as are my legs.
“Hello, Mr. Wright. Glad to see you’re finally awake. I thought I might have to give you an injection to wake you.”
I turn my head toward the voice on my left, from the direction of one of two doors in here. Coming into the room is none other than the girl from last night. Or earlier tonight. I have no clue what time it is.
“We were in your limo. You gave me poppers and now I’m here. How’d I get here? And why am I fucking tied to this fucking bed?” My voice gets louder until I’m shouting at the still-beautiful blonde in front of me. When this is over, I’m going to skull-fuck her through her eye socket.
“Calm down, Geoffrey. Yes, we were in my limo. I didn’t give you poppers; instead, I gave you a sedative. Which worked extremely well, by the way, partly because of your inebriated state. For a while there, I thought we were going to have to wake you. As for the time, it is 11 PM.”
“How did I end up here?” I ask, trying to maintain calm. One of the many lessons from my father that I fail at on a continual basis is keeping
calm so I can control the situation. Lose your cool and you lose the upper hand.
“I drugged you, you passed out, the driver brought us here, our staff brought you into this room, and we stripped you down and shackled you to the bed. We were warned you weren’t very cooperative.” She says this as she presses buttons and writes down information from the medical equipment I didn’t notice by the bed. Her delivery is so matter-of-fact and nonchalant that I’m convinced my dad hired her. She’s a damned amazing actress. I can’t wait to fuck her later, only this time she’ll be the one tied down. Other than having put on glasses and a lab coat, she’s still dressed the same.
“Right. I’m tired of this little game. You really need to let me go. Do you have any idea who my father is? He’s going— “
“Your father, Senator Wright, knows where you are. He’s the one who suggested where we pick you up and how we should go about it.” She turns to me then, pulls one of the dinette chairs over, and sets a laptop on her lap.
“Geoffrey, we need some basic information from you. Most of this can be gathered from your file, but this is to set a baseline. I have to inform you that you’re being monitored by both video and microphone and that I will be taking blood samples from you.”
“Go fuck yourself! Untie me, bitch!” Rage is good for helping clear up the mind, and my mind is feeling very sharp right now.
She sighs. She has the gall to fucking sigh. “Look, Geoffrey, I understand—”
“Fuck you, you understand shit! Let me go! My father is going to hand deliver you to the Bee Keeper himself!” I’m not stupid enough to think that my dad will do shit. If he set this up, I’m in it for the long haul, but in all likelihood, she doesn’t know that.
“Now get your prissy, insipid ass over here and do your goddamned job and let me the fuck go.” I hate that my voice is wavering. It isn’t because I’m scared. It gets like this when I’m angry. When I was little, my father would mistake it for fear or tears and he’d backhand me so hard I hit the floor.
The Bee Keeper Page 4