Alphas for the Holidays
Page 8
The ring had been in the champagne glass, not that she’d noticed the lovely square diamond at first. Their friends had surrounded them in love. It was the perfect night, the happiness so intense that she feared it couldn’t last. She drank too much and Jack had to help her to the car because she stumbled on a broken piece of sidewalk and snagged her pantyhose on a lawn gnome’s pitchfork. She’d always hated that creepy gnome.
Maura looked at the picture of the keys.
“Give me those,” Jack had said, snatching the keys from her hand.
“I wish it would snow forever,” Maura had yelled, spinning in drunken circles into the street. Flakes fell upon her coat as she danced.
“Come here,” Jack said. “You’re covered in snow.”
“It’s not snow. They’re tiny perfect ice kingdoms doomed to melt!” At the time it had made perfect sense.
“You are perfectly crazy, my love,” he’d answered.
She wanted to spend her life with Jack. So much lay ahead of them that her heart had practically burst with the anticipation of their lives together. Getting to the car was a blur, as was the long stretch of wet pavement on a dark road, and the many signs advertising a local Renaissance Faire.
“We should go to that,” she’d said with a laugh. “I would love to see you in tight leather, my lord.”
“As you wish, my lady,” Jack had answered. “But only if you wear tight leather, too.”
Maura had chuckled as she watched streetlights glint off her ring until they disappeared, and then night swallowed the old highway. She stared at Jack’s face cast in the soft lights coming from the car’s dashboard controls. Big band music blared from the car radio. He loved that kind of thing and was always trying to drag her to revivals and jazz clubs.
“Did you look inside the ring before you put it on to show it off to the girls?” he’d asked, rocking in the driver’s seat.
Maura laughed and slipped it off her finger. She opened the glove box for a light to read the engraving aloud, “Everlastingly.”
“Everlastingly yours,” was how they said, “I love you”. It was special because it was theirs, unused in the centuries before, a new love, their love.
“Aw,” she said, smiling at the sweetness of it. “Right back at you, baby, forever and ever everlastingly yours.”
The memory became real, pulling Maura into it. Jack slowed the car and pulled to the side of the road. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned a very alluring smile to her.
“What? Here?” Maura laughed, even as she felt her willingness.
“I have been wanting go get you out of that dress all night.” He slid his seat back all the way and reclined it. “What do you say?”
Maura glanced around.
“No one drives down here,” he assured her, his tone dripping with honeyed persuasion. Jack reached for his belt buckle and unzipped his pants. His cock sprang free and he stroked it.
“We should wait until we get home.” The words were unconvincing as she unbuckled her seat belt.
He took his hand from his shaft and reached for her thigh to push up her skirt. “It’ll be like our first date.”
Maura dropped her head back and laughed. “I did not sleep with you on our first date.”
“But I thought about you straddling me in this car the entire first date.” Damn, he had a persuasive smile when he wanted her. It worked every time.
Maura reached for her shoe.
“Leave them on.” He pulled her toward his lap.
“But I’m wearing hose.” She slid closer to him on the seat.
“Just rip them open with your nail and push your panties aside.” He again stroked his cock and teased, “You better hurry. It’s started to get cold.”
“Let me judge.” Maura leaned over to kiss his erection and he jerked as her lips wrapped the tip. She started to pull away when he pushed the back of her head gently and thrust up a few times. The firm pressure automatically caused her to suck him.
“As much as I enjoy coming in your mouth, I really want your pussy.” He let go of her hair. “I’ll buy you new hose.”
Maura chuckled and reached between her legs to rip the delicate material.
“Oh, yeah,” he breathed eagerly. “Now straddle me.”
Cars were never an ideal fit, but it still excited her. As she straddled him in that tight space, she let her sex dance over the tip of his shaft. His eyes focused on her breasts as he took her by the hips.
“I don’t know, Jack,” she whispered, playing with him. “What if we someone comes to check on us?”
The idea excited him more and he moaned. “I’ll tell them you were a bad girl and I had to pull the car over.”
“You like it when I’m bad, don’t you?” She pushed down on him, letting him fill her.
“Fuck,” was all he managed as she moved on top of him.
The position didn’t let them get as deep as she wanted, but the physical contact was enough to stir her body toward a climax. Pleasure racked through her, and Jack’s orgasm joined hers. Outside the snowy night was so quiet and peaceful, as if trapping them inside the interior of their own private snow globe.
Maura was pulled from the pleasure of the memory and her consciousness was once again in the farmhouse. She felt a tear slip down her face as she looked up from the picture-induced recollection to the actual tree lights before her, not really seeing them. She touched her ring finger, trying to slide the jewelry back on, and at the same time not finding the ring on her hand. Memories combined with the present in a chaotic symphony of blurred images and sounds. Wallpaper curled along the seams, held down by dusty pictures. A horn honked. The Christmas lights blinked, morphing into headlights and then changing back again. Her body swayed violently though the couch didn’t budge. She struck her head against an invisible barrier. Blood trickled down her face from where she’d hit it.
“Jack?” Maura moaned, holding her head. Her body stung as she tried to push up. The tree lights disappeared, replaced by the bright flecks of snow falling in front of their headlights. They had just made love and had parted so they could finish the drive home. Jack made a weak noise. Blood streamed down his face, coming from his left temple.
Maura blinked heavily before struggling with her seat belt. Grabbing her coat from the seat, she’d pressed it to the side of his face to get the bleeding to stop. “Jack, baby, it’s ok. It’s ok. I’m here.”
He moaned in response.
She heard voices outside the car, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. “Help! In here, he’s hurt. Please, we need help!”
“Robert, shut ‘er up,” someone yelled. The man had a country accent as if he’d come from Southern Oklahoma. Kansans didn’t generally talk like that.
“What? No. We need help,” Maura called out in confusion.
“Look for her purse,” the man continued, as if she’d not made a sound, “then pop the trunk. Hurry before someone comes by.”
Were they being robbed? Maura moved closer to Jack and searched for some kind of weapon while holding the coat to his head to stop the bleeding.
“Ain’t no one coming by this late at night,” Robert answered. “If they do we’ll put on the hazard lights and say we found them like this. They’ll probably give us a reward or something for being good Samaritans. Besides, it’s not like you can tell we rammed them. This tiny car can’t dent the beast. That grill is meant to plow down anything in its way. Just like me.”
The window smashed behind her and she screamed in fright. Jack blinked, startled and dazed. Someone reached in behind her.
“Don’t touch us,” she yelled. “Just leave us alone!”
“Here. Check her purse,” Robert said, snatching it from the seat and tossing it behind him. He smiled at her with a mouth full of tobacco stained teeth.
“Fuck!” his partner yelled, his voice coming from behind Robert. “Bitch only has twenty bucks.”
“Not only twenty bucks. Just lookie what we have here,
Stan.” Robert unlocked the door and threw it open. “A prom queen! All dressed up and ready for the after party.”
Rough hands pulled Maura’s hair, dragging her out of the car and into the snow. Her arms flailed, not doing much damage as she fought to be free.
“I never did get to go to a prom,” Stan said.
When her attacker let go, she tried to crawl away. This seemed to amuse the men greatly. She screamed when Stan grabbed her by the skirt and pulled. “Where do you think you’re going, prom queen?”
“I’m not a prom queen. Please, we’re just on our way home from a party. There’s no reason to let this get out of hand. Just take my purse and go.” Even as she tried to reason with them, she couldn’t keep the shaking out of her voice or the fear off her face.
Robert kicked her stomach to shut her up. Maura rolled onto her back, clutching her abdomen. He kicked her a second time, striking her along the outside of her thigh. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
Boots crunched the ground near her head. Legs towered along either side of her face. “Grab that ring.”
Robert yanked her hand, ripping her new engagement ring from her finger. She watched him from the ground as he licked the stone before putting it in his pocket. “You should have brought more cash tonight, sweetheart. Then I could have paid for a lot lizard like I planned. But, since you didn’t, I guess you can just take the whore’s place.”
“Stay away from her,” Jack yelled. He charged their attacker, leaping over her at Stan and knocking him to the ground. “Run, Maura!” Jack punched Stan in the jaw before Robert wrapped Jack’s arms from behind to pin them to his sides. Jack drove his feet into the ground and forced his body to fall back. Robert was slammed into the car. Blood splattered the snow from Jack’s head wound.
“Jack!” She didn’t want to leave him. She looked for a weapon but didn’t find one.
“Get help,” Jack ordered. “Go, Maura!”
Maura obeyed, running as fast as she could over the hard pavement.
“Stop her,” Robert commanded. “Run the bitch down!”
Maura screamed and changed course into the snowy field. The cold stung her feet. She heard Jack shouting to run faster. She didn’t turn around. Fear told her they were right behind her and she didn’t dare look to confirm it.
Someone had to find her. Someone had to help Jack.
She wasn’t sure how far she’d ran, only that she couldn’t stop, even as she crawled through snow drifts with the little protection that wet satin and pantyhose provided. A farmhouse had to be around here somewhere. Someone had to be working these fields.
Maura knew if she stopped moving their attackers might find her. She tried to keep parallel to the road. Whispered prayers came out of her in tiny puffs of air. She begged an unseen force in the universe to let her wake up, to make this a dream. She yearned for her parents, the police, a park ranger—anyone who could get her out of the cold. Tears froze before they could fall. She told herself that she just needed to make it past the next line of trees, then the next, the next...
Coming to a fence, she whimpered, barely able to launch her body over. Maura collapsed on the ground and tried to crawl. Nothing but a field of snow stretched before her. Her calf muscles seized from the low temperatures and she couldn’t feel her feet. Somewhere along the way she’d lost her shoes and hadn’t realized it. Pressure had built under her head wound, swelling her eye shut. Her stomach ached from where she’d been kicked.
She’d gone the wrong way.
Just a small break to catch her breath and then she’d start moving again.
Rolling onto her back, she looked up at the full moon. The pain in her limbs was replaced by numbness. Snowflakes fell down upon her face but she did not feel them land.
“Jack,” she whispered. Every ounce of her soul she had left was sent back to him, willing him to know how much she loved him. She prayed for him to be safe. “Everlastingly.”
Salvation never came.
Chapter 7
“Jack!” Maura surged to her feet. She didn’t understand fully what was happening, only that she needed to find Jack. Her tattered gown was stained with blood, the gossamer fabric ripped, the satin covered in water spots. It hadn’t been like that before.
Maura limped toward the front door, determined to find him. What if he was on the side of the road waiting for her to come back? She pulled the handle, but it wouldn’t open. Frantically, she jerked at it, kicking and screaming to be let out of the dirty house.
“Jack! Jack!”
Remembering the upstairs window, she made her way, trying to find the doorless room. Her bare feet stomped up the stairs. There was only one door. She jerked it open and ran inside. The room was a mess, as if someone tore it apart while she’d been gone. The mirror was broken into pieces on the floor. The bed had been overturned, revealing a small opened door in the wall.
Seeing the word, “Everlastingly,” carved on it, just as it had been carved on her engagement ring, she knew Jack was somehow showing her the way. Light came from within and she shoved her way through the narrow opening. Maura crawled through the tunnel, not caring where it ended up so long as Jack was on the other side.
She burst from the side of a snowy mound into the forest. “Jack!”
Maura turned in circles. Where should she look first?
“You…” Jack whispered behind her. She whipped around to face him. “You look different.”
“Jack, the men…” She rushed toward him and ran her hands over his face to find the scar over his temple. “What happened? How did you escape? How did you heal so fast?” She looked him over to prove to herself that he was unharmed. Eyeing the tunic shirt and leather pants, she couldn’t help a small laugh. “Where did you get those clothes? Did someone from the Renaissance Faire find you? I don’t understand.”
“You remember me.” He looked too scared to move.
“Of course I remember you, Jack. We’re going to be married. You just asked me earlier tonight. I…” Maura frowned and grabbed hold of his tunic shirt. “Wh—what’s going on? Why are you looking at me like that? You haven’t changed your mind, have you? It hasn’t even been a day. I… Jack?”
“You said my name.”
“Yes. You’re Jack Michael Taylor. On our first date you told me your middle name was Susanna just to make me feel sorry for you. It worked because you made me laugh and I let you do more than kiss me that night after you got me home.”
“It is you, Maura, it is you.” Jack grabbed her tight and his whole body trembled as if he choked back tears. His hand rubbed along her back. “You found your way back to me.”
Maura let him hold her. “How did you get away from those men?”
His caress stopped but he didn’t let her go. “I got lucky. We fought. One of them dropped a gun. I pointed it at them and they got in their truck and drove away. The car wouldn’t start because they’d rammed the front end. It was only four degrees that night. I took your coat and went after you.” Moisture dripped onto her shoulder and she knew he cried. “I had a broken rib so I couldn’t move fast enough. I’m sorry, Maura, I was too late.”
“Too late? Jack, I’m right here. We’re going to be ok.”
“Maura, I’m telling you, you died. You’ve been dead nearly thirty years now. You have been trapped in a loop, reliving that night. I found you in the snow, blue and frozen. I wanted to die, too. And then the man in a black suit came. He told me that he couldn’t change the fact that you were cursed by your circumstance to haunt the Kansas fields, but he could build a house where you had fallen, a house full of your memories that would call you in and lead you to me. Since that night you’ve run the fields, but you find your way here, to me, eventually.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You’re a residual haunting.”
“Very funny, Jack. Do I look like a ghost to you?” She started to laugh, but stopped. “How hard did you hit your head?”
“Just listen, Maura. T
his strange man took pity on me because of our pain. He told me I had to sacrifice my life to give him enough power to make it possible. So I did because it meant I had a chance to be with you again. But he didn’t tell me the catch. I couldn’t go into your house or your memories, and you didn’t remember what happened. Most of the time, you didn’t remember me, and if you did, it was brief. I’ve lived for those seconds when you found me. If I try to tell you I love you, or anything else important, you loop back into your residual self and start running again.”
“You’re serious.” Maura pulled away from him. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“Regardless.” He nodded meaningfully at her.
Maura felt strange, but a ghost? How was such a thing possible?
“At first, you came back more often,” he continued. “Sometimes you wouldn’t find the way immediately and would choose the wrong path, but you would just loop again and eventually you would come through the door. Sometimes it took days, or weeks. Once it took less than a day and we were not ready for you.”
“We?”
“The butterflies. The best I can tell is that they’re like fairies. I hear them talking but I don’t see their faces.”
“Talking butterflies and ghosts and the grim reaper wearing a black suit.”
He ignored her skepticism. “Over the years I have been able to piece together that you were in a room with a small door, and that’s how you found me. You recognized me more back at the beginning. Your house was clean and the clues visible, so it led you to me easily—there were pictures on the wall, newspaper clippings, and clues to who we were. But as the years wore on, the clues became hidden in dust, the power in the house faltered, the clues of my name and face started to fade. It became harder and harder for you to find your way back, and I’d wait months to see you. The butterflies warned me that once the magic was gone you would no longer see the house and would loop forever unless you found the truth.”
“He’s not lying,” a tiny voice said. Maura gasped turning to a bright yellow insect fluttering beside her. “Look at your feet. You’re standing in snow and you’re not even cold.”