by Liz Thomas
Taking a deep breath, Cassilia approached the monument in which her mother had been interred ten years ago. Atop the marble crypt that held her coffin was a statue of an Angel appearing to take flight. The sculptor had fashioned the statue after her mother and refused payment from Roger. Her mother had been loved in life.
“Hello, mom.” Cassilia whispered, stepping over the bench and sitting down, “I hope I’m not bothering you.”
Silence.
Cassilia smiled, folding her hands and lowering her head. “If you want to finish that conversation with Ms. Monroe, I can wait.”
Cassilia felt utter pleasantness wash over her like a warm breeze. She closed her eyes for a moment, relishing the sensation of her mother passing over her. Everyone, even Ashlynn, had dismissed the idea of an afterlife, but to Cassilia the idea of Heaven was as natural as the sky.
She laughed timidly and said, “…like I said, I hope I’m not bothering you, but I don’t…” She sniffed, battling back tears as she clenched her hands together, “…mom, I don’t have anyone else to talk too.”
After a moment of silence, Cassilia raised her head and addressed the angel. “Mom…” her voice cracked as she spoke and she swallowed, “…I know you remember Ashlynn, right? Remember when you used to…used to clean us up when we got dirty? And how you read us bedtime stories when she spent the night? Well, she went away for awhile and she stopped talking to me. I won’t say I wasn’t hurt, cause I was, but I try to be like you, you know?” She gestured up to the Angel, “I try to be understanding towards everyone.”
The room was silent, the angel motionless, but the warmth of her mother’s soul returned and lingered this time. She felt it strongly on her shoulders, causing her mind to drift off, remembering when her mother would wrap her in blankets before a roaring fire during the holidays. “Mom, I miss you so much…” Cassilia began to sob, rubbing her arms as if hugging herself, “…Ashlynn hates me now. I don’t know why. I don’t know what I did wrong. She…she got together with these two girls who hate me and she ruined a bunch of my clothes…”
Cassilia didn’t know she was crying until she saw tear drops fall onto her knees. Her vision blurred and she broke down completely, falling to the stone floor. She covered her face in her hands and wept. “I don’t know what to do anymore, mom, I just don’t know what to do…Roger keeps trying to…” She shuddered, again hugging herself, “…oh God, mom, the way he looks at me like he wants me to…and I try to be nice to his daughters but they just treat me so badly! What did I ever do to deserve this?”
She made her way to the crypt and looked up, pleading with the Angel, “God, if You can hear me, please, help me. Give me my mom back, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.”
Cody had run angrily and blindly until his lungs threatened to collapse and his leg muscles throbbed from being overworked. The pain in his knee was almost unbearable, and he could almost feel the cartilage grinding away as bone scraped against bone.
Sweating and almost hyperventilating, he let out an involuntary sigh as he reached a busy four-way intersection and fell, placing his hands on his legs.
His lungs felt as though they were taking in fire. For the first time since he’d sprinted away from Victoria, he looked around as he caught his breath. Rising, he leaned against the stoplight pole, pressing both buttons to signal that he needed to cross the street. Direction didn’t matter.
As he regained his bearings and realized where he was, he re-thought his navigation as he wondered if some invisible force had led him there.
He had mistaken a vibrating phone for his own quivering leg muscles and wondered how long it had been going off. Still struggling to breathe right, he reached into his back pocket and pulled forth his smartphone. He winced upon seeing the name of the caller; Alyssa.
As he directed her to his voicemail, he sickeningly realized that he’d missed fourteen calls and nearly forty text messages in the fifteen minutes he hadn’t been paying attention to his phone. The text messages grew angrier and more threatening as Alyssa perceived that she was being ignored.
He contemplated hurling the phone into traffic—that would solve his problems for a little while. He also thought about dropping out of Victoria and being done with the entire institution. Something didn’t add up, even more so than usual.
These people were all about the money, he knew that, and it’s why he kept his distance from most people. It stood to reason that the better their sports programs performed, the more they’d be awarded from the government to expand. The school wins, the school gets paid; that was the logic.
Except when it came to Allan.
Cody regained his ability to think straight as regular breathing set back in. He thought back over the last three years. He’d led a dominant football team over almost every other squad in their conference. He often joked with Matt that some of the games seemed too easy. It had seemed like hubris at the time.
The first year they’d played Allan, it had been the hardest game of Cody’s life and he’d edged them out by three points. Then, he’d been allowed to play the game his way. Coach Ruger had even let him call plays on the field. After beating Allan, they’d gone on to win the state championship and Cody had been declared the state’s MVP.
The more Cody thought about it, the more confused, and angry, he became. There was no celebration for their victory in the California Bowl. There hadn’t even been any mentions—anywhere—in any papers. Nothing on the internet except the usual statistics. It was as if they’d lost the game, and Victoria just wanted to forget the entire ordeal.
That following year, Coach Ruger had changed; he’d become softer, more reserved, and less risky on the field. Midway through that season he’d had that office built, and had never coached on the field again.
They’d lost to Allan that year, resoundingly so, but everyone had seemed encouraging after the loss.
Almost like they’d expected it.
The stoplight beeped loudly, causing Cody to jump as he was snapped back to the moment. He realized traffic had stopped. He was clear to cross the street.
As he stepped down from the curb, an inferno shot up the back of his right leg and he groaned, clutching it.
He realized grimly that Coach Kruger might get his way. Cody wasn’t quite ready to admit that he’d pulled something, but running was out of the question for now.
He strode across the street, heading towards the last place in the world he found peace; Holy Sepulchre cemetery, where he’d invested a significant sum of his endowment to have his father buried, mostly to spite the upper class.
But this wasn’t about the upper class, or any class. With so much on the line, and his phone vibrating yet again, Cody needed his father more than ever.
Michelle smiled seductively, her full, red lips going ear-to-ear in satisfaction as she slowly, teasingly took the head of Matt’s cock out of her mouth. He was almost panting , his cock throbbing in her hands as she’d brought him to the edge.
The giant looked down at her pleadingly as she scooted back into her queen-sized bed and gently removed the last string that kept her pink lingerie on. It fell from her body revealing her full, supple breasts to him. She’d forgone any underwear.
Braced on her elbows, she leisurely brought her right leg up and traced her pedicured toe down the center of his chest. “Tell me what you want.” She purred.
Matt could barely control himself. He had broken into a sweat and his dick was practically beckoning to her. “You.” He replied quaveringly.
“Say it again.”
“I want…you.”
“Beg me.”
“Oh, please…” He closed his eyes, “Please let me..”
She didn’t want to admit it, but she needed him just as bad as he needed her. But admitting it meant forfeiting the power she had over him. “Very well.” She whispered, “Fuck me.”
When they had first begun this arrangement, Matt had been so ferocious that she’d limped for a week.
They’d been doing this for almost a year now, and he’d learned to reign in his exuberance.
Smiling like a predator, he crawled beneath the canopy of her bed. She bent her head back and smiled fully as he lowered his mouth to her neck and growled, biting hungrily. With his right hand, he held up her leg, and she gasped as his enormous, rock-hard cock slid into her.
He withdrew slowly and pushed back in, and she grunted in pleasure with the thrust. She was amazed; after all this time, neither she nor him had gotten bored with each other. In fact, more than she wanted to admit, she looked forward to these sessions.
“Oh, God…” He moaned, pulling his cock all the way out of her, up to his head before slamming it back into her pussy. She knew what it meant when he began to call out, and sure enough, he almost lifted her tiny body into the air as he thrust into her madly. She clenched, gasping with the ecstasy the motion brought her, and he rose to his knees, lifting her from the bed.
She yelped as he thrust into her, wrapping her arms around his neck as he bounced her on his cock, which had begun to engorge and throb as release became imminent. “Do it…” She whispered into his ear as she traced the tip of her tongue along it. “Cum for me…”
He roared mightily, and for a second, as she felt his juices explode into her, she wondered if he might put her through the ceiling. But after a second, he relaxed and began panting.
Michelle pulled away and opened her eyes, looking into his. “I think you’re ready for today’s game.”
His smile vanished, and a cloud appeared to descend onto him. “Yeah, but I don’t think I can do what you’re asking.”
Michelle was instantly angry. What else do you think this is for, love?! She hopped off of him, scrambling for her clothes as he looked after her sadly. “What the hell do you mean, you don’t think you can do what I’m asking?” Her tone was cruelly mocking, “How’s this any different from anything else you’ve done for me?!”
“Cody’s my friend…” Matt offered weakly, frozen.
“Oh, Cody’s your friend…” She echoed, again in a cruel imitation of his own voice, “…maybe you should go fuck him then.”
“Well, that’s pretty much what you’re asking me to do.” Matt growled.
Michelle whirled on him; he’d never spoken to her that way before. She realized she’d crossed a line as he glared at her, and then got up and began putting his clothes back on.
Michelle took a moment to compose herself and then smiled at Matt, as genuinely as she could. “Matty…” She began, walking over to him and rubbing his back, “I’m sorry I made you mad. I forgot how much it hurt your feelings when people made fun of you.”
“Yeah, well…” Matt continued, clearly hurt, “Maybe we should forget a lot of things, Mickey.”
Fear shot through Michelle like a bullet. She rarely experienced the emotion. She despised it. She smiled wider and laughed, rubbing his back faster. “Come on, Matty. You don’t mean that.”
She paused as she felt him relax, and then continued, “You know I have a temper.”
“Yeah, that’s why we didn’t work the first time.”
No, we didn’t work because I cheated on you, you stupid boy scout. “I know.” Michelle said facetiously. “But I’m trying, right? You know I’m trying.”
She swallowed, summoned up the courage and said, “You know I love you.” The words made her want to vomit, but she needed to convince him if the plan was to work.
Luckily for her, Matt relented and looked back to her. Shirtless, he smiled broadly and said. “Yeah, I love you too, Mickey.”
She was still surprised by how fast he could move. She was in his arms in a second and off the ground as he clasped her in a bear hug. “Dammit, why can’t I stay mad at you?!”
Michelle fought revulsion as she embraced Matt’s neck and forced a laugh. “You know why.” She whispered seductively in his ear. He returned the laugh and set her down, grinning in a manner she wasn’t ready for yet.
She had to force herself to look him in the eye; his feelings for her were almost overpowering. If she’d had her way, emotions would be a crime. She wished every relationship could be bare, stripped down to a sexual nature and left at that. Everything became unnecessarily complicated when feelings got involved.
“Listen.” She said as he put her down, “I know Cody is your friend. How can we work this out?”
“Well…” Matt began, grateful that she was compromising, “…I can’t let him get hurt. I can’t just get out of the way and let Allan have him.”
Michelle struggled, knowing next to nothing about football. To her, it was just a bunch of hot guys in tight pants hitting each other. “Matt, Allan has to win this game.” She declared, “And you’ve already told me that Matt isn’t comfortable throwing it.”
“Neither am I.” Matt fired back, “I just need the money.”
“And Cody doesn’t?”
“Not really. Not if he goes pro. The league will give him triple what Allan’s offering.”
Michelle shrugged, resigned, “Then, Matt, he has to go down.”
“I won’t do that, Micky. Even if it costs me you.”
The finality in his voice was disconcerting. Once upon a time, he would’ve done anything for her.
Before she could formulate a response, his phone rang.
He fished it out of his pocket and motioned for her to be quiet as he took the call. “Yeah, Coach.”
Michelle tried to lean in, but Matt turned his back to her. “No, I haven’t heard from Cody since he walked out. I have no idea where he is.”
There was a pause.
“What? Are you sure?”
Michelle strained, but Matt stepped away. “Did you leave a message? No, it’s okay. I’ll find him. I’ll tell him. Honestly I’d call that good news.” He turned to Michelle and smiled. She shook her head, curious for answers. “Yeah, I’ll call you as soon as I find him. Talk to you later.”
With that, he disconnected and put the phone back in his pocket. “What’s going on?” Michelle asked impatiently. “Tell you later.” Came Matt’s too-quick, confident reply. He scooped up his shirt as he headed for her bedroom door. Upon seeing the stunned look on her face, he smiled apologetically, dashed towards her and gave her a kiss. “I gotta find Cody. He needs to know first. I’ll tell you tonight…after.” He winked at her, and she forced a smile. Then, he was gone.
Frustrated, she sat on her bed, replaying the events of what had just occurred. She damned Cody for coming along and screwing up a perfectly good thing, with his new money and arrogance. If Allan lost this game, they’d all pay the price. But not Cody, no. He’d go off and do his pro football thing and leave everyone else in the ashes of his ruin.
She smiled, realizing what she had to do. In order to win the poor dullard back, she’d have to sever the stupid bond he had with Cody.
She lay back in her bed and sighed, contemplating just how to undo their friendship.
The twinge in his leg had blossomed into full-blown pain by the time he made it to the cemetery, numerous blocks away from the light. His phone had buzzed several times as he’d journeyed, but he’d ignored it. Throwing into traffic seemed like a better idea.
The cemetery took up a city block; his father was buried in the very back. It was one of the few graves that didn’t have some garish headstone on it. The city council had blocked the request, stating that if Cody had been allowed to erect one, it might’ve gotten in the way of the many other headstones present.
Cody remembered taking the incident to the news when his father died. When the light of the media had finally been shown upon them, they had relented and allowed his father to be buried there.
He was limping as he navigated the hilly cemetery, making his way along the winding path that led to various gardens. He gritted his teeth, wincing as his leg threatened to give out, forcing himself onward. Again, his phone vibrated. He ignored it.
Nestled in between a cherub statue and a headstone bearing
a tree was a simple gold plaque that bore the name of his father, along with his date of birth and date of death. Relieved that he’d completed the journey, Cody took several deep breaths and knelt.
Before he could complete the motion, something behind his knee gave, as if the muscle had been torn out. He screamed and fell to the ground.
The shriek had been so piercing that Cassilia leapt. She’d nearly fallen asleep on her mother’s crypt, exhausted from crying. The continuing scream was coming from the right, at the furthest corner of the cemetery.
It was a man, and he was crying out for help.
Cassilia rose quickly and crossed herself, smiling at the Angel representing her mother. “Thanks for listening, mom. I’ll come back and visit soon, I promise.”
As the cries for help turned into angry cursing, Cassilia exited the crypt and secured the door as she exited. “Um, hello?” She called back towards the origin of the screaming, “I’m here! Tell me where you are and I’ll come find you!”
The pain was incredible, like someone had taken hold of his ankle and twisted his leg a hundred and eighty degrees in the wrong direction. This was worse than some muscle pull; he’d endured plenty of those over the years. This was worse. This was deliberate.
Pain degenerated into anger. Pushing up from his stomach, forced to keep his injured leg straight, he tried to get to his feet. He turned towards his father’s grave, his vision blurred by agony and the hurt of betrayal. Someone had done this to him. Allan’s victory in the upcoming Bowl Game was so important that it was worth crippling over, maybe even killing—
“Um, hello?” A woman’s singsong voice called out, and he stopped cold, looking out across the hills for the source, “I’m here! Tell me where you are and I’ll come find you!”
“Here!” Cody called back instinctively, “I’m here! Please, I need help!”
For a moment, he wondered if it was a dream, because there was no response. He wondered if he was delirious.
“Okay, okay, I hear you! Can you tell me what you’re near so I can find you?”