It's A Shame

by Hansen, C. E.

  Michelle and I were both led to a dingy grey room and told to wait. Neither of us spoke as we made our way through the door of a small room that smelled of unwashed bodies and stale cigarettes. The officer motioned for us to sit and we both walked over to the table, and sat down on the hard metal chairs opposite each other. The table, which was bolted to the floor, was dirty. Grime filled gouges and scratches surrounded by coffee cup stains littered the surface. A faded metal ‘NO SMOKING IN INTERROGATION ROOM’ sign hung on the wall, but the foul odor in the room, spoke volumes, it was obvious no one paid any attention to it.

  We hadn’t said a word for over ten minutes now. Both of us seemed to be lost in our own thoughts. I can’t speak for Michelle, but I know I was running the events of day over and over in my head, and was pretty sure she was doing the same. I was on pins and needles waiting for them to cart us off for our mug shots and fingerprints.

  A short while later the door opened, and the same sergeant who was asking Michelle questions earlier stepped in. He moved to the side to make room for someone else.

  Oh shit!

  Dean stepped in and stood glaring down at us both. A deep scowl marred his usual handsome features. I looked directly at him, undaunted, but saw from the corner of my eyes that Michelle avoided looking in his direction. I don’t recall ever seeing her so complacent. She glanced at me and smiled.

  “Let’s go,” he commanded.

  “Go where?” Michelle asked.

  He swung his head around so damn fast I thought it just might snap off.

  “I’m not in the mood Michelle. Let’s go.” He turned to the sergeant and said, “I’ll take care of it from here. When you’re ready to press charges call me.” He stuck his hand out and shook the sergeant’s hand.

  “I’ve got to say, Dean, these two got balls. Balls of steel, man. Shit,” he laughed heartily, at the pained expression on Dean’s face, shaking his head. “That girl is barely alive. Just got off the phone with her mother, her parents are on the way to New York Methodist now. She’s very lucky to be breathing,” he said as he looked at us both and smiled weakly.

  “Thanks, Bill.” Dean said gruffly, but I could hear the pride in his voice.

  We walked out the door and followed the officer. Dean and the sergeant following close behind.

  It was about an hour later when we pulled up in front of our apartment building in Dean’s personal car. I have to say I was somewhat impressed. He drove a really hot looking ‘72 Dodge Charger. What we used to call a muscle car back in college.

  As we walked past the doorman as he held the door open, my head snapped around, and I found myself looking sideways at him. I noticed right away that I’d never seen him before, he was new, and I audibly breathed a sigh of relief. I think I heard Dean chuckle behind me.

  We rode the elevator up in relative silence. I just stared down at my feet. I was dreading what I would say to Cole. He really didn’t need this added aggravation right now. I paused in front of my apartment and without a word turned and gave Michelle a hug. She squeezed back and smiled her Cheshire cat smile. I was left wondering what she was thinking.

  “Let’s go,” Dean demanded.

  “Love you. I’ll call you later,” she said to me, as she looked back towards Dean. I actually felt sorry for him.

  I pulled out my key and opened the door. When I stepped in I placed my phone and license on the table, and followed the path of the light into the living room.

  Cole stood next to the bar with his back to me. When I came closer he turned around and handed me a glass with bourbon swishing around in it. The amber liquid beckoned me, and I have to admit I was drawn to it like peanut butter to jelly.

  “Thanks,” I smiled sheepishly.

  “Thought after a day of playing cop, you might need a little reinforcement.”

  I looked up into his eyes, feeling such relief when I saw the spark of wickedness, as a smile crept up the sides of his mouth…and I forgot to breathe.

  “Got to tell you Grace, I’m really pretty angry you would do something so stupid…” His tone was harsh, but his smile gave him away.

  “I’m sorry, it was stupid. I know it was stupid, but I would do it again in a heartbeat, but I am sorry I made you worry. I know you didn’t need this right now.” I looked down at the glass in my hand and lifted it to my mouth. I could feel the burning effect as it slid down my throat into my stomach. “I’m sorry.” I repeated.

  “I have to admit I’m proud as hell you two saved that girl.” He looked towards the bedroom, “and more than a little aroused at the thought of you…” He smiled as he shook his head looking at the floor, “I think I have a hero complex.” He chuckled. I immediately lifted my head and looked into his eyes. The twinkle I saw had me damn near salivating. Dear Lord, he slayed me with that smile. “Doesn’t mean I think it was smart.” He stood straight. A stern look crossed his features briefly.

  I lifted my drink to my mouth and drained it and placed the glass on the counter.

  “You could reprimand me later, I need to shower…like now,” I admitted. I stuck my nose near my armpit. Holy cow I stunk.

  He placed his unfinished drink on the counter next to mine and before I could blink he lifted me like a potato sack over his shoulder.

  “First I’m going to wash you…then I’m going to spank the living daylights out of you.” He walked towards the bedroom as I bounced, precariously perched on the top of his broad shoulder. I couldn’t help but laugh. I don’t know if it was the relief of the moment or I was in shock. Either way, it felt good to laugh. It also really felt good knowing that Lily was alive.

  After we got out of the shower he wrapped me in a towel and carried me over to the bed, stepping over my dirty pile and his quickly strewn clothing. He placed me gently in the center and leaning close unwrapped the towel covering my body.

  “Grace,” his voice gravelly, his eyes hooded. As his eyes traveled the span of my body, mine traveled slowly over his, stopping as his glorious erection. Anticipation coursed through my veins.

  He lay down on his side next to me, leaning on his elbow and ran his fingers down the length of me, from the side of my breast to the inside of my ankle, his long arm reaching effortlessly down the length of my body. He slowly glided his warm hands over my flesh, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their path, and I quivered from the sensation.

  He skated his fingers up the center of my body, tracing a circular pattern around my nipple, rubbing the tips back and forth over the hardened peak, and then moved on to my other breast. I inhaled sharply, squeezing my legs together as that decadent hunger rapidly built deep inside me.

  I tilted my head back and moaned as he ran the tip of his tongue over my sensitive nipples, alternating between sucking and lightly biting. Lowering his hand down over my mound, he gently parted my soft folds with his fingers. His thumb lazily circled my clit, stirring my blood. The need to feel him inside me drove me crazy.

  “Ace, please…” I begged, “Do me.”

  “Not yet,” he whispered against my neck.

  His body stiffened and he inhaled deeply as his fingers slid into me. I began to pump my hips, slowly at first, building speed as my body moved and rocked towards his touch. Lifting his fingers out he put them into his mouth and slowly sucked them, savoring the taste of me. The sight of that alone was so erotic, so hot; I began panting. He was making me insane.

  “Why?” I whispered hoarsely.

  “Because you taste like…heaven.”

  I grabbed his neck and pulled his mouth to mine and greedily ran my tongue over his lips, tasting myself on them. Lowering his arm, his fingers continued their wicked assault, sliding easily in and out of me, their thrusts increasing in tempo.

  My breathing was erratic. I clung to him trying to pull his body onto mine desperate for the feel of his warm skin against me.

  “Cole,” I moaned. “Please…”

  “Not yet.” He trailed kisses down my chin to my neck.

  I
felt his hardened cock rub along my thigh, the wet tip glided against my skin leaving a searing path in its wake. I lowered my hand to touch him. His velvety skin was hot and smooth; the crown wet. I swiped the tip with my finger and heard him moan as I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked loudly.

  Turnabout is fair play.

  The numbing heat spread rapidly as his fingers penetrated me over and over, coaxing an orgasm from me. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, letting the sensation roll over me.

  The bed dipped and without opening my eyes I felt him sit up. He slowly pulled his fingers out of me, and using both hands, spread my thighs apart. He crawled between my widened legs, and lowered himself onto me. Placing his arms on either side of me, he began rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth over my clit.

  “Cole…please, baby,” I begged as I lifted my body up towards his, impatient to feel him inside me. “I want you in me. Please.”

  I desperately needed to feel his weight on me, feel his breath against my cheek. I was craving the feel of each and every one of his thrusts.

  He lifted his hips and aligned himself over me.

  I moaned out loud, calling out his name as he plunged inside me, pounding me unrelentingly. His hardness filled the void I felt moments ago, as he pushed further into me, driving deeper and deeper. He moved his hips slowly at first. He grabbed my hands from his neck and gently pulled them over my head, and held them there, imprisoning me. He balanced himself on his other arm and began to increase the tempo of his movements. He rocked back and forth, quicker and quicker, unrelentingly.

  I came so fast my head was spinning. Tingling warmth spread from my core throughout my body. I lifted my ass up and down, meeting him thrust for thrust until I couldn’t stand it any more and screamed out some unrecognizable nonsense.

  The sensation that washed over me, combined with my raw emotions, propelled my orgasm to a new high. I wanted it. I needed it. I needed him. I was frenzied, screaming out with each orgasm.

  He lowered his face to mine, his mouth an inch above my own. I could feel the heat from his breath. I looked into his eyes and saw the lucidity in those perfect green orbs. Sweat from his head fell onto me in droplets, our bodies coated in a fine mist.

  “Grace…” he called my name huskily. “Baby…I love you. Ahhh…Fuck!”

  With that his mouth claimed mine, and I tasted his blood as I bit down on his bottom lip. Then without warning, my body shook with another earth shattering climax. He sucked on my tongue, my lips, my chin, dragging his teeth along my jaw, all the while his eyes never left mine.

  “I love watching you come.”

  I was panting. My lungs desperately seeking air.

  He ran his tongue along my chin, across my cheek. His eyes never strayed away from mine, not even once. I could feel the earth move beneath me as my limbs went numb.

  Cole’s mouth twisted as he thrust into me then stilled. I felt his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside me. His eyes bore into mine, and I came with him. He released my hands. My arms depleted of strength, lay above my head and I sunk into the mattress as he lowered his weight on to me burying his face in my neck.

  Chapter 25

  When I woke the next day, I could hear Cole talking on the phone. I got up and quickly threw on shorts and a tee shirt. I pulled the tie from my hair and shook it out. It was still wet from the shower we took last night and was beginning to curl. Looking at my reflection in the mirror I laughed at how ridiculous I looked. I grabbed a dry tie from the top of my dresser and pulled it back up into a bun on the top of my head, as I padded out to the kitchen.

  Dean stood at the end of the breakfast bar raising a cup of coffee to his mouth. I turned my head and spotted Michelle sitting on the stool in front of Cole.

  “What’s up?” I asked. I wasn’t happy that Dean was the first face I laid eyes on, and I made that clear with a twist of my mouth.

  Michelle and Cole both turned their heads to look at me.

  “Gloomy faces…” I looked directly at Michelle. She averted her eyes.

  “What’s up?” A little too much attitude, but I didn’t care. I was done being tossed like a cork on a wave. So it came out more like a command this time.

  “Have a seat Grace, I’ll get you a coffee.” Michelle jumped off the stool, fixed me a cup and handed me the mug. I took the proffered stool in front of Cole as Michelle walked around to stand next to Dean.

  “Is someone going to answer me or what?”

  “We picked up the doorman, Pat Ricchiardo,” Dean announced.

  “Good…you got him. Did he fold yet?” I was feeling my oats. “I mean, he’s the guy, right? He’s the one that murdered Lauren Buckley.” I shrank under the stares of three gloomy faces. No one said anything. They all just stood there looking at me. “Well, do I have to pull it out of you or is someone going to say something?” I was getting frustrated and it came out in my tone.

  “Grace, Pat Ricchicardo copped to a lot of things…to the girls, the fingers. Says they were flowers for the pretty ladies,” Dean finally spoke up, looking rather ridiculous twirling his finger at his head. “Fucking fruit cake.”

  “Flowers?” I was truly confused. “What do you mean flowers?”

  “Listen…” Michelle spoke and my head whipped around to face her. “He’s some crazy fucker that did time with Jonathan…” I saw her shake reluctantly. “He cut fingers off of the girls he kidnapped and delivered them to various women that Jonathan…well girls, he, um, knew.” She shook her head like she was trying to eradicate a fly. I was even more confused. “He and psycho boy were roommates or jail mates, or whatever these low-lives call themselves. Anyway, psycho boy…Jonathan, had dickwad, Pat, poison Tony. They tried to kill him, but didn’t succeed. Tony had a heart attack and lived. Dickwad was supposed to kill him. Apparently Jonathan really hated Tony…so anyway, dickwad fucked it up.”

  “I can take it from here,” Dean announced.

  “Fuck that,” she said as she whirled around to face Dean. Then without out so much as a second thought, she turned her head and continued her tale, “…so...to make up for not killing Tony, Jonathan made some sort of arrangement with dickwad, to torture you…and me. Anyway the cops found a bunch of coded notes or messages in his room. He was a total fruit loop. Son of a bitch murdered his own mother, using the same poison he fed to Tony. Then turned the air conditioning up… so the smell…”

  “WHAT?” I interrupted her. “Jonathan…?”

  “Yeah, Jonathan told dickwad to do horrible things that would scare us. It worked…I fucking hate that son of a bitch.” She shook her head as she whispered her last remark. Closing her eyes she titled her head back. I knew Michelle, so this expression wasn’t new to me. “So listen, he didn’t murder…well he kinda did, he admitted to cutting the fingers off the woman they found dead in the park in Brooklyn, but the official cause of death was a heart attack. Then the crazy fucker kidnapped the girl we rescued…she’s hanging in there, by the way, looks like she’s gonna make it…anyway, he cut off fingers and sent them to us, and a few other unlucky girls Jonathan wanted to torture, but he’s got an alibi for the night Lauren Buckley was killed.” She put her coffee mug into the sink and opened the fridge taking out a bottle of water.

  “I’m not gonna need that Shelle…” My stare was vehemently directed at her. “So he didn’t kill Lauren Buckley?” I was more than perplexed. Michelle shrugged her shoulders and placed the bottle on the counter.

  “No. Piece of shit got a little too high, and some cops downtown picked him up. Turns out he was in the tank all night.”

  “Tank?”

  “Yeah, that’s what they call the holding cell.” She opened the bottle and took a sip herself. “He’ll never see the light of day. Most likely gonna end up being Jonathan’s bitch again.” She was sounding more like a crime novel by the minute. Cole’s features contorted when he heard her last remark.

  I suddenly realized it wasn’t over. The cloud still sat directly
over our heads, pressing down on us.

  “Shit!” I turned to go back into the bedroom. I was so angry, tears were building, and I didn’t need Michelle’s smart assed attitude right now.

  I sat on the edge of the bed with my hands over my face.

  You have got to be kidding me.

  All the joy I felt last night began circling the drain, and I was plunged back into the abyss. A huff of pent up air escaped my lungs, deflating me. I didn’t hear Cole come in.

  “It’s going to be okay Grace,” he said softly.

  “No it’s not, it’s the never ending nightmare… I hate this so much.”

  He sat next to me and pulled me against him as he massaged my lower back.

  As if this crazy existence couldn’t get worse. Cole was formally arrested the very next day. Seems his high-priced lawyer didn’t have enough juice to keep his high-profile client out of the headlines. His name and picture was plastered in all the newspapers and the local news had a field day. ‘New York City’s newest, most wealthy, eligible bachelor has been formally charged with the murder of his ex-fiancée’. God give me strength.

  He and his lawyer went into court and pleaded not guilty of course, and he was released on bail. It was an exorbitant amount, but obviously no amount could prevent him from coming home to me.

  On top of that, we were informed by the lawyers Cole had working on getting custody of his son Kyle, that the paperwork was tied up in the court system, and indeterminately delayed. We both knew it had something to do with the murder of Lauren Buckley, but neither of us verbalized our thoughts.

  I tried hard to keep a positive outlook, if not for myself, I had to do it for Cole. He was being ripped apart inside and it pained me to see him like this. He maintained his strong outward appearance, but I could see the clenching of his jaw, and the tension in his stare. He was hurting and there wasn’t anything I could do to help him…until I could. I found a way.