by KT Grant
Deborah glanced down at her lap. “Gen once called me an ugly-looking grasshopper during one of our fights. When I first met her I weighed more. She made go on a diet and start exercising. When I lost too much weight, she wasn't happy about that either.”
Bridgette's hands clenched, wishing she could strangle the dead woman, who destroyed Deborah's self-esteem and gave her years of misery that would likely stay with her forever. “Why don't you tell me what you've been up to since you've been gone?” Bridgette changed the subject.
Deborah grimaced. “The aftermath of Gen's death has been exhausting. The reporters were vicious and I had to hire extra security while I stayed at Gen's estate. Her lawyers have been very helpful with her assets and her will. She left everything to me,” she said softly.
“How much are you worth?” Bridgette asked bluntly.
“At least fifty million. Most of it is in stocks and bonds. But the cash I have available is really generous. I ended up getting it all: the properties, the cars, even stock in her company. But the board of directors wants to buy me out. I'm thinking of doing that. Also I'm going to donate the house in Peyote Springs to an organization that helps abused women.”
“That's very generous of you,” Bridgette said, not amazed by Deborah's generosity.
“What I have now is way too much. I want to help others stuck in abusive relationships and feel they can't get free.” Deborah folded her hands across her lap. “The two people who helped me and once worked for Gen are safe in Mexico. I asked them to come back to help me pack up things. Gilberto, the one who put his life on the line to help me escape, may come back. I wanted to give him more money as a thank you, but he refuses to accept anything more.”
“You're incredible, Deb,” Bridgette said and held out her hand across the table, silently urging Deborah to take hers.
“No, I'm not.” Deborah glanced up and shook her head. “I'm donating the house for my own selfish reasons. I can't live there with all the bad memories.”
Bridgette nodded in agreement. “That makes sense.” She flexed her fingers. Take my hand. “You're going to live somewhere else?”
“Yes. There's nothing left for me back in Nevada. It was so uncomfortable during Gen's funeral with the stares and the whispering. Then a few days after, the police came to me and said they found the body of a man in the river. He was a private detective known for locating missing people. They think Gen killed him, since he disappeared after he told his business associates he was meeting with her.”
“She was really deranged,” Bridgette said and winced. “I'm sorry for saying that.”
“It's okay,” Deborah said, then did what Bridgette had been waiting for. She linked their fingers together. Bridgette found she could breathe easier.
“Where are you thinking of moving?” she asked, hoping Deborah would say in Woodberry Creek.
“I'd like to move here since I know the area pretty well. The hospital in the next town over is in desperate need of nurses and they have a great staff of therapists who specialize in domestic abuse. I've already set up an appointment with one of the doctors there for next week.”
“That's great!” Bridgette exclaimed. She waited for Deborah to go on, but Deborah remained silent until she stood and put her hands in her pockets.
“Um, right now I'm staying in the motel near the train station. I would stay in my house I've rented here since I have three more months on the lease, but…it doesn't feel right to live there since Gen was killed inside. Would it be okay if I stayed with you until I found a new place to live?”
Bridgette forgot about her hurt and fear at Deborah walking away from her all those months ago. She jumped up and walked around the table. “Yes! You're more than welcome to stay with me,” she said excitedly.
Deborah looked right in her eyes for the first time since she had met her. When she dipped down to kiss her, Bridgette welcomed her by opening her mouth and sighing in relief.
Deborah pulled out the chair and sat back down with Bridgette on her lap. With hungry kisses, they tasted each other in frantic hunger, their hands all over one another until Rotquel nuzzled her way in between them. They broke apart, breathless and panting.
“Rotquel can't seem to get enough of you, either. She adores you like I do,” Bridgette said and laid her head against Deborah's shoulder.
“And I adore you both,” Deborah said softly and tilted her face toward hers. “I know we have so much to talk about and you're probably still upset at me—”
“Shush.” Bridgette placed the pad of her finger over Deborah's mouth. “All is forgotten. You've come back to me and are willing to trust what we have together and move on. That takes great strength.”
Deborah looked like she was going to argue, but only smiled. “Yes, it does.”
Bridgette exhaled softly, so very glad Deborah had begun to heal. She sat up and gave Deborah another needy kiss. When she broke apart, Deborah's eyes were glazed over. “What do you say we go upstairs and take the bath that was interrupted?”
“I'd love to, but first there's something else I've wanted to do with you since I walked through your door.” Deborah cupped the back of Bridgette's head and whispered in her ear.
A big smile spread over Bridgette's face and she moved off of Deborah's lap and pulled her into the living room.
As the rain continued to fall outside, two women, one petite with a head full of red curls, the other tall and slender with short hair, danced to the sounds of disco music. They twirled around the room with their arms around one another, laughing and singing as the dog that claimed them both as her mistresses barked and wagged her tail in delight.
When things became a bit too heated, they undressed one another and fell to the chaise longue to caress and love one another with their hands and mouth. Only then did they climb the stairs to take a bubble bath, where their passions for one another went late into the night.
THE END
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