by Jessie Cooke
Wheelie lowered her back down to the bed with shaky arms and lay down next to her. He peeled off the condom and tossed it into the trash can that sat next to the nightstand, and then he put his arms back around her and let her curl up into his chest. He closed his eyes and held her, breathing in all the sweet smells of her and wondering what he was going to do with the feelings that were collecting in his core. He hadn’t felt this way about a woman since Syl...hell, he still had feelings for Sylvia and he hadn’t even known he had the capacity to feel anything for anyone else until that very moment.
They just lay there for a while in silence, naked and breathless. To Wheelie, the whole thing felt a little bit surreal. He’d seen two horrifically murdered people in the past week and yet here he was catching feelings for a woman who might just believe he had something to do with them both. As if reading his thoughts at that moment, she pulled her head up and their eyes met. She smiled, almost shyly, before saying, “Well, I’m not sure that was a good idea.”
Something about that struck him as funny and he started laughing, hysterically. She looked at him like he was crazy for a few seconds, but his laughter must have been contagious because she soon began giggling herself. Soon they were both laughing so hard that tears were rolling down their faces. She punched him lightly in the chest and said:
“Stop it.”
He was still laughing as he said, “Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I’m sorry.” He tried to straighten his face, but she started laughing again, which got him started all over again. “What the hell are we laughing about?” she finally managed.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s to keep from losing it...”
“Or maybe we’ve already lost it.”
He chuckled again. “Maybe.”
They were quiet again for a while and then she said, “What time are we supposed to be at the police station tomorrow?”
That sobered the mood. “Dax said first thing. I guess eight or so.”
She sighed. “The M.E. finally released Pam’s body. My mom texted me earlier. She’s planning on having the memorial the day after tomorrow. I really don’t want to, but I guess I should go see her.”
Wheelie propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at her face. She suddenly looked so sad. He wanted to hear her laugh again, but he knew that wasn’t fair. She deserved time to grieve for her sister. He nodded and asked, “Tonight?”
She glanced at the clock behind him. It had been such a long day it felt like it should already be the middle of the night, but it was only approaching six p.m. “I should. The poor thing. I’ve been so selfish because I hate the thought of facing her. She needs someone to blame, I guess, and that person is me. But she also needs someone to lean on, and I know my father’s not there for her the way he should be.”
“Will he give you a hard time because of what happened earlier if he’s there?”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “But he’s a master at giving me a hard time. He’s made it his life’s work.”
The sad catch in her voice hurt his heart. She tried to act like she didn’t care, but it was obvious that her relationship, or lack of one, with her father bothered her a lot. “If you want to shower, I’ll fix you something to eat before you go.” She had her face buried in his arm, but he felt her smile. “I cook,” he said, defensively.
“Really?” She looked up at him again. Damn, she’s pretty.
“A little. I can make scrambled eggs and toast...oh, and pancakes.”
She giggled. “It’s okay. Dinner is always served at the house at seven. I’m sure there will be plenty. But...you could jump in the shower with me.”
“Really?”
She giggled. “Only if you want to.”
“Hell yeah, I want to.”
She giggled again and rolled away from him. “Oh, wait,” she said, before she got up. “Let me see your arms.” He held them both out and she reached over and turned on the lamp. He was enjoying the view of her body as she inspected them. She frowned after a few minutes and said, “I don’t see anything, but if the person that drugged you was good at what he was doing...” She stopped, abruptly and frowned deeper.
“What?”
She shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I just don’t know.” She let go of his arm and rolled out of bed. As she stood up, his eyes tried to take her all in at once. She turned to face him and said, “Like what you see?”
“I’d have to be blind, stupid, or crazy not to, and I am none of the above.”
She crooked her finger at him and headed for the shower. He got up and followed her. While she leaned in and got the water ready, he got out a couple of clean towels. When she was satisfied with the temperature, she stepped in and while the water flowed over her back, she held her hand out to him. He took it and stepped into the small space. Taking hold of her other hand, he used both of them to push her back against the wall and kiss her. The kiss turned passionate quickly, and Wheelie felt himself growing hard again. He let go of her hands, but kept his body pressed into hers to hold her in place as his own hands explored her body as they kissed. As he ran his palms down her back, he felt her shudder into him. He cupped her cheeks with both hands and began to massage and squeeze.
She melted into him and he slid one hand around to the front and found her clit with his fingers. She let out a long moan and he began to rub it in circles, eliciting even more passionate, erotic sounds from her chest. She was shaking, and he had to use his other arm to hold onto her tightly now to keep her from sliding down. He felt her reach for his now throbbing cock and he moved his hips backwards slightly so that she could get a grip on it.
While he masturbated her, she did the same for him, and she was as good with her hands as she was with the rest of her body. He thrust his hips in and out while she stroked him from tip to base, and slid a finger inside of her while continuing with his ministrations to her clit with his thumb. He could hear her breaths growing quicker and more ragged and he could feel another orgasm welling up in his core. He rubbed faster, and she stroked harder, and it wasn’t long before her entire body went weak and his arm was the only thing keeping her from being a puddle on the floor. Her hand had slid off his raging hard cock and he replaced it with his own.
It took her a few seconds to regain her strength and when she did, she began to rub her wet body against his wet one and the temperature in the bathroom went up about a thousand degrees. He was sweating and panting as he masturbated, and she watched and touched his body with every part of hers. Finally, he let out a deep growl as he exploded for the second time in an hour, this time all over her soft, sexy skin. As if that wasn’t hot enough, she took both of her hands and massaged it into her body before smiling at him and finally turning toward the water to wash it off. Wheelie had to use his tired arm to brace himself against the tile wall and hold himself upright, and even then, the sight of her naked ass in front of him sent a chill running down his spine.
14
“I don’t understand.” Bri’s mother was sitting at the kitchen table, looking out the window at the expansive backyard. Bri was sitting across from her. Her mother asked her point-blank where she’d been all day, and Bri told her that she’d been with Wesley. Apparently, her father had already filled her in, but she had to hear it for herself. Now she wouldn’t even look at her daughter as she spoke.
“Mom, he didn’t kill Pam.”
“How do you know that? Your father is pretty convinced he did, and he’s a prosecutor, Sabrina. This is what he does for a living. He was right about...him.”
“I don’t want to talk about him!” She snapped at her mother. She couldn’t really blame her; her own thoughts had been going there all day. “I’m sorry, Mom, but Wesley is not Brayden.”
Her mother cringed at the sound of his name and then asked her, “How do you know? I mean, you and Pam both thought that...that mechanic...was this great guy, and then you find out he was abusing your s
ister and she found out you were sleeping with him behind her back. Poor judgment, to say the least.”
Bri felt the old familiar wave of nausea at the mention of both betraying her sister and having sex with that pig. She’d told herself that she was drunk, and it wasn’t her fault, so many times that she hoped by now she’d believe it...but she still didn’t. She’d betrayed her sister and when Pam found out and confronted Brayden...it set off a spiral of events that no one in her family would recover from. She suddenly realized her mother was still talking and when she focused in on her words, she wasn’t sure it was much better than her own thoughts. “Do you think if he had...slit her throat…” Tears welled up in her mother’s pretty green eyes and she dabbed at them as she went on, “...he would tell you?”
“No, Mom, he wouldn’t tell me. I can’t explain it, but I wish you would trust me. I’m older and wiser now than I was when Brayden was alive...”
“Don’t say that name in my house,” her father snapped, angrily, from the doorway. It was the first time Bri had said that name in his presence since...that night. She wouldn’t have said it, had she known he was home. “But,” he said, “as long as you brought up the subject, I guess we can say that you didn’t learn a fucking thing from nearly destroying our family.”
Sabrina gasped. “I nearly destroyed us?”
“That whole mess started the night you decided to sleep with your sister’s scumbag boyfriend, didn’t it?” Of all the horrible things her father had ever said, that was the worst. He was blaming the complete destruction of their family on an incident that to this day she was sure Brayden had forced. Even after knowing everything he knew about Brayden’s character, he still thought his own daughter was a whore, and he wasn’t finished with her yet. “It seems you’re still attracted to a man simply because he wanted your sister first.”
That one almost knocked the breath out of her. It was like a punch to the gut. She couldn’t even find the words to defend herself. She was just too tired—of all of it. She looked at her mother. The woman that was supposed to be her biggest cheerleader, her staunchest protector, wouldn’t even look at her. Sabrina should have known she wouldn’t find any help there. Her father wasn’t physically abusive, but he knew how to use his words to wound, and her mother had been beaten down by those words for so long that she rarely dared even have her own opinion any longer. It had made Sabrina lose respect for her a long time ago.
“I’m going to go home. If you need any help with the services, Mom, call me.”
“Are you going home, or back to your biker boyfriend?” Her father was aching for a fight, and she willed herself to keep walking toward the door and let him have the last word. She was almost there when he pushed it just a little bit further... “You’re going to go whore yourself out again to your sister’s murderer?”
She snapped then. All the stress, the grief, the pain...it all boiled to the surface at once. She let out a primal scream and ran toward him with her fists balled up. She heard her mother scream just as one of those fists was about to make contact with his face. But he couldn’t even stand there like a man and take a punch that he deserved. He grabbed her by the wrist and she tried to kick him. Before she knew it, he had her in a hold from behind. It was like being in a straitjacket; she couldn’t move. “You’ve lost it,” her father said with his mouth close to her ear. “You need help. I’m glad you’re on vacation. You don’t need to be walking around with a gun and being responsible for other people’s lives. I think I’ll have a chat with Jack...”
Jack was her supervisor. He liked and respected Bri, and she was a damned good probation officer. She knew she was a different person with her family...but that was the fault of the son of a bitch who was holding her hostage at the moment. Even if Brayden had never come into their lives, and even if Pamela had never been killed, their relationship as a family would still be shit...because of him. There was only one thing that kept them together, an ugly secret that none of them ever wanted to come out.
“Let fucking go of me!”
“Don’t think you’re ever going to lay a hand on me, young lady,” he said, again in her ear. “You will regret it.” He let go of her and Bri’s eyes met her mother’s. Bri felt like slapping her too. She picked up her bag and without looking back, she left. If she never came back to that house, it would be too soon.
She was almost to her car when her phone made a noise. She growled out loud when she looked at it. She’d completely forgotten about Wesley’s brother. Damn it! The last thing either of them needed was another asshole in the mix. His text said, “Hey, I took a cab to Wesley’s house, but he’s not here. You know where I can find him?”
Judging by Wesley’s reaction to finding out he was coming earlier, he was probably in the apartment with the lights off and the drapes drawn. She texted back the man she’d never met but was already beginning to dislike, “No, but it’s late and he’s had a long day. You might want to check into your hotel and get in touch with him in the morning.”
“Hotel?”
She rolled her eyes. Surely he didn’t think she was going to put him up...or the brother that couldn’t seem to stand him. “Yeah, you know, a place you rent for the night with a bed, shower, and toilet.”
“Ha-ha. Okay. I guess I should have known I wouldn’t get the same kind of hospitality here that y’all would get if you came down south. I’ll find a hotel and check in with you first thing in the morning. Looking forward to meeting you.”
Can’t wait...not. “Mm-hmm. Have a good night.”
“Have you had dinner?”
Is he kidding? Well, who the fuck am I really to judge? It wasn’t happening either way. “Yeah. I’m going to call it a night.” She shut off her phone before he could text back, tucked it in her bag, and drove home. The day felt like it had been three days long, and tomorrow wasn’t looking any better. She wished she were an ostrich and could just bury her head in the sand.
Since there was no sand, Bri went home and buried herself underneath the covers of her bed. She tossed and turned for what seemed like hours...debated calling Wesley, decided not to bother him...and tossed and turned some more. When she finally closed her eyes she was suddenly and irrevocably immersed in a waking nightmare. It was of the night Brayden’s true colors were revealed and the shitstorm he would rain down on their family had begun.
She was back at her parent’s home, in her own room. She’d just stormed in and slammed the door after a knock-down, drag-out fight with Pam. Her sister found out that she’d slept with Brayden a few weeks before. At first she’d tried to deny it even though for some reason Brayden had told Pam the truth...or at least his version of it. In Pam’s mind, he’d come clean first, so he was the one that deserved forgiveness...and likely not the aggressor. The truth was, Bri had been upset over a break-up with her boyfriend of two years. She’d gone to a bar in town that she and her friends sometimes hung out at. When she thought back on it later, she’d remind her sister that Brayden knew she hung out there and she’d even suggest that maybe he went looking for her that night. All of that only pissed Pam off more, and then when Bri would tell her just how drunk she was, Pamela would tell her that she was only making excuses and refusing to own up to her responsibility. The worst part of it all was that her mother had heard them arguing about it and she’d told their father, and now he was tossing around ugly words that only made Bri feel worse.
But that night the argument hadn’t been about Sabrina and Brayden sleeping together. It had been about the black eye Pam had come home with, the second one that Bri had noticed on her sister in as many weeks. Pam tried to make up a story and when Bri wasn’t buying it, she’d told her to mind her own business. Sabrina had flat out told her she thought Brayden was abusing her and when Pam denied it, Bri had threatened to go to their father. Pamela had gone off then, calling her all the choice names usually only slung at her by her own father, and Bri had stormed into her room and slammed the door. The girls were in the house alo
ne that night. Their parents were out of town and the staff all had the night off. Sabrina decided that she didn’t want to be there with Pam and she’d begun dressing to go out. She was still in her room when she heard the scream from downstairs.
Still in her bra and underpants, she’d raced out of her room and down the stairs, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw Brayden. He had a snarl on his face, until he saw her and then he’d actually turned it into a sick little smile. It wasn’t until she heard the whimper that she realized Pamela was in the room too. She was crumpled at the foot of the chair Brayden was standing in front of and there was blood coming out of her nose.
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Sabrina had tried to get to her sister and when she got close enough, Brayden had clotheslined her with his arm. She flew back into the wall and Pam screamed again. Brayden yelled at her to shut up and kicked her. Sabrina didn’t realize until later that he’d kicked her in the side of the head and knocked her out.
“She said you were threatening to tell your old man some shit that was none of his business, or yours,” Brayden said.
“So you punched her?” Sabrina was still on the floor, trying to push herself up to her feet. She had just recently started her classes at the gun center, so she’d bought her own gun... but it was upstairs. Her father kept all his locked in a safe in his bedroom. The wheels in her head were turning a thousand miles a minute as she tried to think of a way to get to it before Brayden did any more damage to either one of them.
“No. The stupid bitch got punched for talking back to me when I told her to go up and get you.” Sabrina’s heart hurt. Her sister was protecting her, after everything. It made her bound and determined to keep Brayden from hurting her any further.