by Jacob Chance
Zack saved Janny’s life. I still can’t believe it. He went there to apologize and ended up saving her life.
I want to talk to him. To tell him I’m proud of him for going over Janny’s and facing the possibility she might call the police on him. For once, he did the right thing.
I slip on my shoes and grab my keys before slipping out my door. I pause in front of his door. Should I, or shouldn’t I? I raise my hand and rap on his door. If I don’t talk to him now I may never get the opportunity. I knock again, but he doesn’t answer. The doorknob turns under my hand and I enter his apartment. Everything looks the same for the most part. The only thing missing is Zack. I walk further inside, glancing around. The framed picture he had of the two of us is missing off his end table and in its place, is a piece of paper.
Never doubt my love for you, Lana. Thank you for teaching me how to be a better man.
I burst into tears. I didn’t teach him how to be a better man. He did it all on his own. I know him leaving is the best thing for all of us, but I wish he hadn’t agreed so easily. If he hadn’t he still might be here and I could have told him I changed my mind - told him I don’t want him to leave. I could have gone with him. Now it’s too late.
23
Zack
Nine months later
My fingers trace over the curve of the wood, seeking out any rough spots or imperfections. I slide the fine grit sandpaper, gently back and forth with the grain of the wood until it’s smooth as silk - as smooth as Lana’s skin.
Don’t think about her.
I remind myself a hundred times a day, but it doesn’t do any good. She’s always there. She always will be and I prefer she stay that way. She’s what keeps me moving forward each day.
The memories of our time together will fuel me for the rest of my life. I’m never going to let another woman in like I did Lana. I can’t imagine being with anyone but her.
“How’s it coming along?” Paolo, my mentor asks as he walks up behind me.
“Almost there,” I reply as I sand one final spot. I rub my fingers over the area one more time.
“You get better and better with each piece. Soon you won’t need me anymore,” he jokes.
My eyes flick to him and I grin. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”
Paolo is more than a mentor to me. He’s my only friend, my confessor and my therapist all rolled into one. I treasure his friendship. He saved me from the dark abyss I was in when I first got here.
When I left Boston, I didn’t have plans to settle down in one place. My only thought was to go someplace far from Lana and the temptation to see her. I wanted her to be free of me. I knew I didn’t deserve her and asking her to choose me over the life she had in Boston wouldn’t be fair.
How I ended up here on Rangiroa was just a stroke of luck.
How I met Paolo the first day here was a coincidence too big for me to ignore.
I caught a taxi ride to a popular cafe recommended to me by the person seated next to me on the flight. I entered the cafe, suitcase in hand and settled on the last stool, at the end of the counter. I tucked my suitcase in front of me the best I could, and let my eyes roam around. I caught the stare of the guy sitting next to me.
“Hi,” I mumbled to be polite, but not intending to converse with anyone. One word ended up sparking the beginning of an amazing friendship.
Paolo was the man seated next to me at lunch. When I heard, he made furniture out of exotic woods, it seemed fated we met. My mind flashed back to the conversation Lana and I had engaged in a few months’ prior over our hot chocolate.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you if you’d decided what you wanted to do,” she mentioned before taking the final sip of her hot chocolate.
I shook my head. “I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll live on a tropical island and learn a trade like carpentry. I can make furniture from exotic woods for the rest of my life.”
Thinking about the conversation I had with Lana was the reassurance I needed, I was meant to be here.
I smiled and dug into my meal with gusto. I’m not a believer in coincidences and this was an enormous one.
That day was the first time I ever felt like there was a higher power and it was no accident I had survived the fire and ended up on Rangiroa.
“We had another order come in for ten more of those tables you made from Bloodwood.”
“Nice. I thought those would be a big seller,” I answer wiping the wood shavings off with a soft cloth.
The door chimes as a new customer enters the store. Paolo hurries out to the front to be of service. He’s a people person, unlike me. Being tucked away back here in the workshop is just how I like it. I can lose myself in crafting furniture. It keeps my mind busy. It keeps my thoughts off Lana. Goddammit.
Why can’t I get her out of my mind for more than an hour at a time?
The nights are the worst. The memories I keep at bay during the day seep into my mind as I lie in bed. I relive every magical moment of our time together. We packed more love in a few months than most people get in a lifetime.
“Are you the person I’m supposed to talk to if I want to order a custom piece of furniture?” a female voice asks from behind me.
I freeze mid task. Chills rush down my spine. My fingers go numb. It can’t be.
I close my eyes and breathe deep. My lids open when I exhale and I rise to my full height. I slowly turn around and gasp when I find Lana standing there. She smiles tremulously through her tears.
“I can’t decide if I want to kiss you or kill you for leaving me so easily.” She laughs and cries at the same time.
My tongue is thick in my mouth. I can’t believe she’s standing in front of me. My eyes reacquaint themselves with every inch of her while I pray for my ability to speak to return.
She walks toward me; her pink flip flops make a scuffing sound on the concrete floor. I take in her long, lean legs in her cutoff shorts and her favorite Washington University t-shirt. She looks the same, only better. She looks perfect.
She stops in front of me, our eyes lock and I can’t look away. I see everything I’ve been through reflecting back at me. Anger. Loneliness. Heartache. Disappointment. But, more than anything I see love.
My fingers grip her face and I capture her mouth with mine. I let my kiss tell her the tale of the past nine months. I show how much I’ve missed her, how much I still love her and always will. The salty taste of tears invades our kiss as our tears mix. I’m overcome with emotion and I couldn’t stop them from falling if I tried. Her hands burrow in my hair and I never want her to let go.
I pull my lips from hers and press my forehead to hers. “I love you,” I croak. “I never thought I’d see you again.” I press my lips to hers once more. “How did you find me?”
“I tracked you down. It wasn’t easy, but I’m not one to shy away from a challenge.” She smirks. “I hacked into your previous job’s database and found your information.” My hands slide down to wrap around her waist. “But that didn’t do me any good because there was no sign of you anywhere. Whoever wiped you out of the system did a good job. Since I couldn’t follow the money trail between your accounts, I finally hacked into Logan Airport’s database and found all the flight information for the dates after you left. That was the easy part.” Her hands leave my hair and move to my chest. “After that, I had to use some of my social engineering skills to get here. It took me a while because I had to consider each of the locations I got from hacking into the airport’s database.” She pats my chest with both her palms. “Before I could come, I had to erase our tracks so no one will ever find us. When I got to the cafe and heard about this store, I knew I had found you.”
“How did you know where I’d be?”
“You told me.” She playfully points at me.
I tip my head to the side. “Do you pay attention to everything you’re told?” I question.
She taps the end of my nose with her index finger. “Only when it’s yo
u doing the telling.”
Epilogue
One year later
“Hey, babe,” Lana yells as she enters our house - the house we just moved into - the house I built with my own two hands.
I meet her in the entryway. “I missed you,” I say as my lips seek hers out. I miss her when she’s at work all day. I’ve told her a million times, she doesn’t need to work, but she insists on it. She loves her job as a computer science teacher at the local high school.
When Lana moved here to be with me, she gave up everything familiar to her. She cut ties with everyone she was friends with to protect me. Even her family doesn’t know where she really lives. She went back to Seattle a few months ago, for a visit. I was worried she’d have a change of heart and not return to Rangiroa. Not only did she return, she showed me how much she missed me.
I never imagined I’d love someone as much as I love Lana or someone would love me as much in return.
I’ve shared all the sordid details of my past with her. She knows everything there is to know about me. The good, the bad and the ugly. There was a lot of ugly to tell her about.
I’m even seeing a counselor each week to help me heal all the hurts of my abusive childhood and to understand why I felt the need to cause others so much pain. I carry a lot of guilt with me for the horrible things I’ve done.
My life with Lana has been a new beginning for me and each day I strive to be the best person I can. She loves me and that gives me hope I’m not a lost cause. Somehow, she was able to forgive me for my mistakes and there isn’t a day that goes by I’m not grateful. She’s the moral compass keeping me moving in the right direction.
Now, there are no more secrets between us.
If you are in emotional distress or struggling to cope, please contact:
Suicide Prevention Information
Hotline Numbers: 1-800-273-TALK or 1-800-273-8255
Crisis Text Line: Text "START" to 741-741
About the Author
Jacob Chance grew up in New England and still lives there today. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.
A writer of erotic romance, DELUDE is his latest release.
Jacob’s Books on Amazon:
QUAKE | QUIVER | DELVE | TIED
Jacob’s links:
Amazon | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | BookBub | Spoiled by Chance Reader's Group | Jacob's Newsletter | Website
Purchase Products In DELUDE
Walking Dead Heat Changing Mug
Silver Celtic Knot USB Drive Necklace
Door Sex Swing Fetish Bondage Restraints
Thigh Cuff Restraints
PENALTY
Copyright © 2017 Jacob Chance
Releasing Spring 2017
This excerpt is unedited and subject to change.
Prologue
August
Grimacing at the sting of her long nails digging furrows into the skin on my back, I thrust my cock into her harder. She moans in my ear and her hands move down to grip my ass. Her legs squeeze my hips like a vise as I pound into her deeper and deeper. I’m surprised by how good of a fuck she is. A lot of the time I find easy pussy is lazy pussy, but she’s proving to be a nice exception. I don’t even mind that she’s older than the women I usually screw. She’s hot with her red hair, bright pink painted lips and a rack that won’t quit.
Her pussy is starting to quiver around my cock now. I rub my fingers over her clit and circle around it while I slam my dick as hard as I can into her. She shrieks like a wild cat as she trembles through her orgasm. I pull out of her and remove the condom before stroking my cock until I release all over her stomach.
I never come inside easy pussy. I don’t need some gold digger looking for a free ride, claiming I’m their baby’s daddy. What would be even worse is actually being their baby’s daddy. Jesus. That’s why I always wrap and pull. I like to think of it as being proactive.
I grab some tissues off the hotel nightstand and wipe her stomach clean. I’m such a gentleman. She stretches and yawns loudly as I slide my boxer briefs on.
“Where are you going sugar?” She asks posing provocatively on her side. Stepping into my jeans, I pull them up. “I have some place else to be,” I vaguely reply as I button and zip my pants.
“Are you sure I can’t talk you into round two?” She traces a long red nail around her nipple.
My dick twitches at the thought of another go in her tight pussy, but I have to finish unpacking my stuff. Two of my friends just moved into a new apartment off campus, with me. There’s still a lot to be done before classes begin in a few more days.
“No, sorry I can’t.” I walk toward the door. “I gotta run. Maybe some other time sweetie.” I pull the hotel room door open and give her a quick wave before I go.
I close the door, whistling as I head down the hallway toward the exit, the woman I just fucked already all but forgotten.
Brady
Early November
I grunt from the impact as the air expels from me when I’m tackled the to the ground. The crowd loudly cheers and I know my pass to my roommate Nick one of our team’s wide receivers, hit its mark. The sound of a shrill whistle nearby cuts through all the sounds of celebration.
My buddy Zeke, one of the offensive linemen holds his hand out for me, pulling me up. He pats me on the ass.
“You okay man?” he asks. “That was a hard hit and a late one.”
“Yeah, I’m good,” I say picking grass out of the side of my face mask and throwing it to the ground. My body is wracked with pain, but I shake it off. I don’t have time to think about it; we have a game to win.
The announcement comes over the sound system calling for a penalty against the opposing team for roughing the passer. I’m glad the officials got their heads outta their asses this time. There have been two other plays just like this one and they turned a blind eye both times.
Their penalty earns us an extra fifteen yards and lines us up on their ten-yard line with only thirty seconds left on the clock. We’re down by three and need at least a field goal to tie it up, but we’ve got great field position. At 1st and goal we’ve got four downs to get in the end zone. We’re going to get the touchdown; I can feel it in my gut.
My fingers tingle as I wait for the ball to be snapped to me. This happens to me in high pressure situations like this one. The sound of the crowd gets drowned out in my head, my focus is complete. I have tunnel vision. Some people call it the eye of the tiger, others call it the killer instinct. I think both of those terms are too dramatic for what it really is. I’m good under pressure. I make shit happen on the field when it needs to. I’m a playmaker.
The ball is snapped to me. I take two steps back, and roll around to the right to avoid being tackled. My eyes scan the end zone for Nick before I draw my arm back and release the ball. It’s right on target and he catches it smoothly before spiking it. I run over to him and we bump chests.
“Fucking A Brady. That’s how it’s done,” Nick shouts.
“Yeah my arm makes you look better than you really are.” He laughs and I whack him on the back. The rest of our teammates on the field surround us, celebrating our win. The cheers of the crowd are deafening. This victory tastes even sweeter than most. We just beat our biggest rivals.
“Jesus, could they invite some more fucking people?” I ask my buddy Zeke when another person bumps into me. The room is full of college students and even with my excessive size I’m having difficulty navigating through it. Being surrounded by people like this isn’t something I’m comfortable with. I don’t like being crowded it pisses me off. I know there’s a scowl on my face, but I don’t really care. I love a party just as much as the rest of my frat brothers, but right now I just want to enjoy my beer in peace and quiet. One of the drawbacks of no longer living in the frat house is that I can’t escape to my room whenever I need a break or when I want to enjoy some alone time with whichever lucky lady I choose that ni
ght.
“Hey man I’m gonna step outside for some fresh air. This crowd is too much for me.” I run my hand through my short blonde hair.
Zeke smiles. “Yeah, I can tell. You have your mean mug on now. You’re going to scare all the ladies away with that face.”
I smirk and point at my chiseled jawline. “The ladies love this face no matter what expression’s on it.”
He laughs and holds his fist out. I bump it with mine. “True story Linc,” Zeke always calls me by my nickname. My last name is Lincoln and a lot of people seem to prefer to do the same. The ladies call me “The Missing Link,” in reference to my bedroom skills. They say my dick is what they’re pussies have been missing all their lives. I think it’s fucking hilarious and I just go with it. It works in your favor when the entire school thinks you’re a beast between the sheets.
“I don’t know why they all love you so much when you’re such an asshole, but it works for you,” he says. Taking a gulp of his beer, the red solo cup covers his face.
“I keep telling you that women don’t want to be treated well. They don’t appreciate that. They all want an asshole - a bad boy and I’m more than happy to be that for them. I get pussy whenever I want and I don’t have to bother with the hearts and fucking flowers bullshit they don’t really want anyway. It’s a win-win for everyone involved.” I poke him in his chest. “One of these days you’ll drop the good guy act and lose that girlfriend of yours. Then you’ll realize what you’re missing out on. It’s inevitable. You’re only twenty-two man, no one should settle down at that age.” Zeke playfully shoves me back away from him.