Closing Costs

by Liz Crowe

  He found her nipples next, sucked and tugged on them so hard it brought tears to her eyes and even more wetness between her thighs. He worked his way down, sucking and biting her flesh until he finally reached her center. He stopped. Their ragged breathing echoed in the room. "Please, Jack." She whimpered. "I need..."

  He lowered his mouth to her clit, sucked it, elongating it, fucking her with his fingers and tongue so hard she had to bite her own hand to keep from screaming with ecstasy. But he kept on the edge, perched, ready to fall, stopping when he knew she had nothing left. The room began to dim, she felt her hands and feet get numb. Something like terror filled her heart, and she suddenly couldn't breathe.

  "Sara," he spoke. When he'd moved up her body she couldn't recall. She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Look at me." She shook her head.

  "I can't." Her whisper filled the room. "I'm scared."

  "Of what?" He kept working her flesh, nibbling, sucking, teasing, patting her clit, penetrating her with a finger, deep, then pulling out. Her body hummed with erotic energy. She squirmed, tried to reach out for him. "I'm not going to hurt you. I've told you that before, lots of times. Why won't you just believe me?"

  "I'm afraid to love you. I can't…love anybody."

  He covered her mouth, probed with his tongue, ran his hands up and down her naked body. Breaking away, he whispered in her ear before pulling her over on top of him. "Don't be afraid. Fall. I'll catch you."

  With one tilt of his hips he spread her, filled her with his cock, making her gasp. "Sit up, ride me baby. Like you want." She shook her head. But he pushed her up so she sat, braced against his hard chest with one hand, gripping his thigh with the other. He thrust again, grunting with the exertion.

  "Oh dear God," She thought she yelled but it came out a throaty whisper. Rocking her hips she matched his rhythm as their bodies met, released and met again. He cupped her breasts, pinched her nipples making her move faster toward release. It roared up from the soles of her feet, bringing dark to the edge of her vision. "Jack!"

  He groaned, gripped her hips. "Yes. You can."

  "Oh God!" The room went black as the exquisite beauty of a Jack induced orgasm rolled through her, making her forget everything but how much she loved him. He flipped them over, pinning her beneath him, pounding into her with a fierce purpose she loved. She gripped the headboard, lifted her hips. "Fuck me hard Jack. Harder! I want it!" He groaned, shuddered and she felt him, warm and wet inside her body. She wrapped her legs around him never wanting it to end. But it did, as most perfect moments did. He took a shuddering breath and pulled out, flopping down beside her.

  "Sleep," he muttered, pulling her close. "Let me hold you. No more fighting."

  Sara grinned and tugged the duvet over them both. "I love you," she whispered. But he was already asleep.

  Jack rolled over, smacking at the annoying animal that kept chirping near his head. It would not stop. "What the fuck?" He threw the clock across the room, which took care of the noise. But his head took up the reins and started clanging, his heart beating in time with the pain the way only a true bourbon hangover can do. Groaning, he sat, noting the time. "Hey," he poked Sara's hip. She shifted, and rolled onto her stomach. "What time is the first game?" She sat up, hair tumbled over her eyes.

  "Oh, um, not until eleven. What time is it?"

  "It's nearly eight. You should go."

  She turned over, tugged the sheet up to her chest. "Oh, okay." Her look said it all. He'd screwed up again. Acted like an idiot, made assumptions about what she'd done and with whom. Then solidified the idiocy by fucking her like an animal. He flopped back on the bed, pulled a pillow over his aching head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

  She laid next to him but he flinched and moved away. He could not take this anymore. "But, Jack, I thought…"

  "You thought wrong. It was a weak moment on my part. Won't happen again; I assure you." She pulled away, anger in her eyes.

  Good. Anger I can take.

  After throwing the pillow across the room he stumbled into the small kitchen, drank what felt like a gallon of life-giving water, let his head droop between his shoulders. This ends now, before we both end up lacerated one time too many.

  He looked up to find her standing in the doorway, her jeans back on and wearing one of his shirts. "You ruined mine, remember?" Her voice did not bode well for reconciliation, but that worked for him.

  "Whatever. Listen, Sara, I'm gonna end this now, okay? I'm sorry I brought the full court pressure these last weeks. I obviously though we could make it work. I don't think we can."

  She bit her lip and he swallowed hard against the urge to pick her up again and take her to bed. No. No more.

  "Why though? You thought you caught me hitting on the soccer coach? So you go all Tarzan and fuck me 'til I scream then it's 'thanks, see ya later Sara?' Really?"

  Her voice rose. He gritted his teeth and stared her down. "Yeah. Guess so. You obviously needed something this weekend that did not involve me. I show and you give me a nice ride. Now you are free to go, find your coach. I'll be fine."

  "You are amazing you know that? No, seriously, you turn the emotional valve off and one like it didn't matter one bit who is affected. You're done, because you misunderstand one scene and to hell with me. To hell with trying to explain anything. Not worth it – why bother – fuck all of it." She threw up her hands.

  He closed the gap between them, pressed her into the wall. She turned her face away but he hissed into her neck. "Sound just like a girl I used to know, back on the porch at her brother's lake house. When she wouldn't let me explain anything either." He shook with the effort not to kiss her. He wanted to so goddamn bad. But he released her, and she flounced out, unwilling or unable to respond. The door made a satisfying slam on her way out.

  ****

  The trip home had been hellish. Katie had popped a fever Sunday morning, crying, sniveling asking for Uncle Jack, refusing Sara's help. Blake hovered, worried, but that pissed her off even more. She and Jack didn't exchange two civil words the rest of the weekend, keeping it short, sweet and as hurtful as possible. By the time she climbed into her SUV Sunday morning, after letting Katie ride home with Jack she fairly quivered with stress. She managed to get a speeding ticket, then pulled into Ann Arbor around five p.m.

  After the longest shower on the planet, she wrapped up in a robe, poured some wine and flopped onto her couch. Refusing to spare another tear on the asshole she pushed all thoughts of Jack out of her mind. When Mateo called, it served as a perfect excuse.

  "My family is having an enormous get together next weekend, for Memorial Day holiday. I would love to have you and Katie join me."

  She agreed, ended the call then flung the phone across the room. Making a mental note to get to the cell store in the morning for a replacement, she flipped on her laptop, needing to catch up on some work she'd ignored all weekend in favor of the drama in Traverse City. She needed to prove Jack right about Mateo like she needed a hole in her fucking head, but he liked her, seemed stable and was as cute as hell. Why not?

  Blake pinged her on Skype. "Hey your phone's dead."

  "I know. I killed it."

  "You okay?"

  "No, I'd say I'm the opposite of okay. That man is going to be the death of me. You and dad were right. I should have listened."

  "No, we weren't. You're being difficult. But you have to decide what's best, not me or dad. I'm here for you, you know that."

  "I do. Thanks."

  She saw Jack signed onto Skype but ignore her. Her fingers hovered, itching, needing to reach out but she wouldn't. Couldn't give him the satisfaction. Never again. Of course, her phone was dead and if there were an issue with Katie. She typed quickly.

  "Katie okay?"

  "Yes. Fever's gone, she's in bed. I'll take her to school tomorrow."

  "Okay."

  His next words surprised her.

  "I'm sorry."

  "So am I."


  She turned the damn thing off and went to bed. When she woke, her pillow clung to her face, wet from tears.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sara sipped her beer and watched the pack of kids run like wild dogs through the picnic area, across the open field and into the woods. Katie led the pack, her usual set of bruises on arms and legs prominent in her shorts and swimsuit top. She'd been a little under the weather all week but never sick enough to warrant a doctor visit. Mateo laughed at them, spoke in rapid fire Spanish to a relative then put a comfortable arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him appreciating his warmth and acceptance. Quite a nice break after the latest Jack drama. He pressed a kiss to her temple making her shiver.

  "We are on for tonight, si querida?"

  She'd gotten an overnight sitter and had agreed, against her better instincts, to stay with him at his place, in a ritzy Detroit suburb. "Yes," she whispered. Her heart ached, but her body knew a strong male when it sensed one and she prickled in anticipation.

  At one point during the long afternoon of family and way more Spanish than her high school exposure to it could prepare her for, she noticed Katie at the edge of the crowd, bent at the waist. She stood, pushing aside random relatives and got to her. "Honey? What's wrong?"

  "Don't know Mommy. My tummy hurts really bad all of a sudden." But she straightened, her eyes bright. Sara took in her filthy face, covered with mustard, chocolate, and God only knew what else.

  "You want to go home?" Some sort of "mom radar of trouble" pinged, making her wince. "Let's go, okay?"

  "No, I'm fine. Mateo's gonna take us over to the field to play a game. I gotta play mom! I'm fine. Really." Sara stepped away, reluctant and now on alert.

  "Well, if it happens again..." But the girl was gone in a whirl of denim and pink.

  Sara sat in the huge crowd and felt utterly alone. Watching the kids play, Mateo's admittedly hot body moving along the field, kicking, defending, laughing, she smiled. One of his sisters tapped her on the shoulder so she turned and made small talk with her, thankful to find someone who spoke English as well as he did. After about an hour, a shout made her look up. The shout was no different than any other, but it set her teeth on edge in a way she knew demanded her attention. She stood, and saw Mateo running towards her, Katie clutched in his arms. She sat.

  Great another busted ankle or hurt wrist or…she stood again.

  "Sara! Get the car. We have to take her to the ER."

  "What?"

  "Just get the damn car!"

  On autopilot, she brought the car to a screeching halt in front of him. He piled the girl's unconscious body into the back, cradling her in his arms. The family stood, silent. "Go! Go! Hurry!" She did, teeth clenched as Mateo soothed and tried to cajole the girl out of her faint. "Dear God she is burning up with fever, Sara! Go faster."

  ****

  By the time she pulled into the University ER, her teeth chattered and she could barely get out of the car. She watched as a team hustled out and piled Katie's tiny body onto a huge stretcher. Mateo looked back at her. "Come on." He held out a hand. She couldn't move.

  Jack. She needed Jack. She grabbed her phone and texted him.

  As she made her way down the hall, following the people trying to revive her daughter she had to grab the wall when she heard one voice she knew.

  "Craig!" She whispered and ran around the corner. His eyes widened and he handed a chart to a nurse, catching her before she fell. "Katie," she didn't get another word in. He handed her off to the same nurse, and dashed away bursting into the Triage area with a quiet calm that made everyone take a step back.

  Sara sank to the floor, and watched as Craig had to intubate her daughter. The sight of so many people hovering, then the sound of a loud alarm which brought even more doctors to the room made her want to throw up, or run away. They finally got her stabilized. Craig came out and pulled her to her feet. "Sara, her appendix has burst. I have about three minutes to get her into surgery to keep her from drowning in her body's own poison. Here, sign this." Sara's hand shook so badly she couldn't hold the pen. "It's fine; we'll fix it." She heard him before she saw him. Jack came barreling around the corner, in full black tie, the lovely Shannon trailing behind. He gripped Sara's arm.

  "Where is she?" Craig gave him the same story. Minutes. Drowning. Poison.

  He groaned and signed the paper. A nurse started to protest, to say only Sara had the authority but the room's buzz had reached a fever pitch. Sara couldn't see or hear. Arms reached out and eased her into a seat. Her beautiful daughter looked so small in the giant bed, hooked up to machines that kept her alive, for a few minutes longer. "No, he can sign." Craig's voice pierced her fog as she stumbled over to touch Katie's pale face.

  "Fucking A Sara what has she been doing?" Jack was on her other side, walking fast as they made their way to the elevators. "She's covered in dirt, bruises." The girl flinched but a nurse calmed her, spoke to Jack.

  "She hears you, Dad. Keep talking to her."

  Jack's wild stare caught hers. Anger and helplessness oozed from his every pore. He glared over her shoulder. "Him?" She looked. Mateo stood in his soccer gear, head down.

  "Yeah, Jack, he saved her. Got her here on time. Fuck you and your monkey suit and over-dressed date."

  "Mom, Dad, can we focus on the little girl a minute?" The nurse's calm voice made them both look up.

  "I'm not her..." Jack started, then stopped. Tears dripped down Sara's face onto the bed.

  "Jack I need you to donate blood." Craig stood at his side, another paper in hand. "Katie needs a transfusion and you're the only one... with her blood type." Sara gasped. Jack stared at him.

  "Uh, okay, where? When?"

  "Here, now." Craig pointed him towards a nurse. He turned and caught Sara's eyes. His eyes spoke volumes. "C'mon Sara, I've got to get her upstairs. The staff will bring you up." He kissed her cheek then disappeared into the huge elevator with her daughter. Jack's daughter. She closed her eyes.

  Mateo stood by her, but she brushed him aside. She texted Blake, Julie, and her parents, who were down in Florida, before sinking into a chair. A nurse brought her water. After about thirty minutes, she saw Jack at the far end of the hall, rolling his sleeve back down. Shannon spoke to him. He shook his head. The woman seemed agitated, but he put an arm around her and guided her to the door. A few minutes later, he reappeared.

  "Appendicitis has pretty distinct symptoms." His voice curled inside her head like smoke. "You didn't notice? Too busy with the new boy toy?" She stood, and without a word, followed the nurse who'd been appointed to take her upstairs to the surgical waiting room.

  ****

  They sat at opposite ends of the waiting room, alternatively glaring at or ignoring each for the next hour and a half. At one point, she shivered so violently she thought her teeth would rattle out of her head. She looked up to see him, holding out his coat. When she looked away, he dropped it in her lap muttering words that sounded like "stubborn" and "impossible." Craig finally reappeared, his face grim. She sat, and let him come to her. Jack moved up beside her.

  "It must have been a slow rupture. It happens. I know you said she'd had off and on fevers, flu-like symptoms, for a couple of weeks, right?" Sara nodded. Jack grabbed her hand but she hardly felt his touch. "She has peritonitis, inflammation of the stomach lining, because of the rupture that none of us caught. I saw her myself," he looked hard at Jack. "So do not blame yourselves. Appendicitis is one of the hardest things to diagnose. Anyway," he ran a hand over his face. "She's stable, on tons of really strong antibiotics but the next twenty-four hours..." Sara let out a sob and stood. "Listen, you need to know all of this. She lost blood inside her abdomen, which is why I wanted the transfusion. You," he put a hand on Jack's knee. "Saved her life."

  Air, I need air. No. I need to see her.

  She whirled around, panic rising in every pore of her body. "Why did they have to, um, revive her down there?" Jack put his head in his hands.

&nb
sp; "She was in septic shock by the time you got here. Her blood pressure was practically zero."

  "Sara!" The sound of Blake's voice made her sob. As she crumpled into the chair, Jack stood.

  "Where is she? Where is…" His deep voice rumbled in her ears, soothing.

  "Your daughter is being moved to recovery. You and Sara are the only ones allowed in there but not for about fifteen minutes. She'll stay there for us to monitor her blood pressure. We had to revive her on the table too so she isn't stable yet."

  Jack stood and without a word to anyone, stalked out of the room with its soothing blue décor, soft chairs and subtle music. Maureen joined Blake, Rob and Julie in the hall but he walked past them on a mission to somewhere. Sara watched him go, the flow of tears blurring the strong line of his shoulders. Rob grabbed her before she hit the floor when the room went as dark as the jacket he'd given her to wear.

  Walk. Forward motion. Positive action. Somewhere, out of here.

  The mantra played in Jack's head, propelling him down the hallway, seeing nothing but the set of doors in the distance. On his best day, hospitals made him nervous; but today, with the multiple stunning news flashes he'd been offered, had no equal. He spotted a men's room once he'd made it through the swinging double doors, shouldered his way in, and sat, fully dressed, pressing his pounding head against the metal stall door.

  For all his blustering proclamations a few years ago, he'd not been convinced the girl was his, other than the fact that he helped raise her. Which should be enough. Her greenish-brown eyes and darkening hair didn't help her look more like any of them really, just like herself. He sucked in a deep breath.

  "Jack?" He heard Mo's voice outside the main door.