Detective Luke Sutton opened his eyes. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool. He moved his head slowly from side to side and winced as his brain made a bungee leap inside his skull. Blearily he tried to focus on the bedside clock but gave up after a few seconds as the digits all blurred into one red light. He thought of getting up but his eyes began to close again. Soon he was fast asleep.
When he opened his eyes for the second time he looked at the clock again.
“Fuck!” he swore loudly, then froze as he felt movement in the bed next to him.
As quickly as his hangover would allow him, he turned over to a mass of platinum blonde hair and the evenings events rushed back.
‘Oh shit, Veronica…’ he thought, biting back a groan. Although Veronica wasn’t a suspect per se as no body had been found, there was an unwritten rule that you didn’t get involved with anyone on a case, not until after the case, and sometimes not even then.
He berated himself as he pushed back the quilt cover and swung his legs out of bed quietly, so as to not wake up Sleeping Beauty.
His phone started to vibrate loudly from it’s place on the wooden bedside table and he lunged for it, hissing at it to be quiet.
He grimaced as he looked at the message
Sutton, get your ass to the morgue asap. Another body has been found. CP
Oh was he in the shit or what? A text message from Captain Philips. He dressed in haste and crept out of the gothic crypt otherwise known as Veronica’s flat. He snicked the lock shut quietly. Veronica turned over in her sleep and slept on.
This was the part of the job he hated the most. Looking at the sad remains of once vibrant people, though looking at the track marks and grey puffed skin of the latest victim, Luke was sure she hadn’t been that vibrant in life. She lay naked under a sheet on a metal gurney, the bottom of which was moulded in order to catch the blood. The ‘V’ incision at the top of her chest indicated that the autopsy had already taken place but he wrinkled his nose to indicate he could still smell the rankness of the room.
“So Doc, what do we have?” he asked, clearing his throat to try and dislodge the stink of death that coated the back of his throat.
“You’re late, so I started without you,” Doctor Benson peered at the younger man over his half moon glasses, a wisp of greying hair peering out from under his surgical hat, “Female, late teens to early twenties, undernourished. The track marks would indicate some form of IV drug abuse, possibly heroin but the tox screen will tell us which drug. I’ve sent the samples off to the lab already.”
“Anything on cause of death?” Luke asked, bristling slightly at the rebuke on his lateness.
“Yes.” Dr Benson replied, pulling down the sheet.
Luke tried to look dispassionately, like a consummate professional as he viewed the malnourished, skeletally thin young woman, laid out on the slab, but couldn’t. Four slashes adorned her torso. He sighed. Another Slasher victim.
“Ah, the slash marks. Nasty yes, but not the cause of death, oh and they were inflicted pre-mortem so she would’ve felt every cut, poor thing.” Dr Benson looked at the young woman with a tenderness that Luke had never seen before.
“She reminds me of my grand daughter.”
Luke remained silent to give the old man a moment to recover.
“Anyway, as I was saying, the slash marks are not the cause of death.”
“then what is?”
“Patience, Luke patience. I’m getting to it.” the older man replied.
He bent over the body and lifting her left arm up, pointed to a long thin line along the side of the torso.
“That is your cause of death. A sharp thin blade into the liver. She would’ve bled out in minutes and the one thing about the liver is, if it’s cut it doesn’t stop bleeding, it has no clotting abilities. Even if she had been rushed into surgery there’s a good chance that she wouldn’t have been saved.”
“Any ideas on the murder weapon?” Luke asked, intrigued, in spite of himself.
“A long thin blade. A stiletto or a scalpel at a push, but I’ll tell you, this guy? He’s had medical training. It takes training to find the liver on the first try.”
“Have you got her belongings? We need to ID her.”
“Over there.” Benson indicated a small, sad pile of manky looking clothing.
Luke took a deep breath and rummaged through the smelly clothes. This was his second most hated job, rummaging through dead clothes. He gingerly pulled out a grubby canvas wallet and opened it carefully, not sure what he was going to find inside. Back when he’d been a rookie he’d opened a purse to find three used condoms and a used tampax. Since then he’d always been careful.
He pulled out a tattered, bent up library card with a faded name scrawled on the back. He peered at it and could just make out a name of sorts. Johnston…something Johnston…Miranda…no, maybe Matilda…no that wasn’t right, that was an e after the M. Melinda? Melissa?
Luke had a sudden light bulb moment. He looked back at the sad remains of the young woman. The junkie he’d interviewed on his missing persons case. Luke didn’t believe in co-incidences. He’d interviewed her about one case and then she turns up dead, in another case. But what was it that connected the two?
Monday, 30 August 2010
Friday, 27 August 2010
Chapter Twenty
He looked around at the once bare plaster walls now covered with posters and magazine cut outs. It wasn’t fair that this man, this blond, blue eyed man had his kitty. He knew from the internet that the blond man had a house in the Hamptons. A wave of anger swept through him and he wanted to kill. He could feel the blood rushing through his veins, the drowning sound of his heart beat, thundering through his ears. She was his and anyone who stood in his way was going to suffer the same fate. He smiled as he thought of the word suffer…oh yes he was going to make Blondie suffer…His kitty cat needed to be taught a lesson. He could hear sirens outside and smiled. No one knew about this place. He looked down at the terrified woman strapped down on his bed and smiled at her. Large, unfocused eyes stared back at him and she began to struggle, muffled shouts coming through the gag.
“Well well Melissa, this will teach you not to touch my kitty cat’s things.” he bent down to whisper into her ear. The young woman was hyperventilating, her eyes darting about in absolute terror, her breathing was heavy and panting as sweat dripped down her brow, through her greasy, lank hair and onto the stained sheet beneath her. She felt like her limbs were being ripped apart and her veins were being chewed up by insects with metal teeth. She needed a fix.
He smiled as he thought how easy it had been for him to get to her. He had found her, with the rubber still wrapped around her upper arm, floppy and unresponsive. It had taken him a matter of minutes to pick her up and carry her back to this room. His special room. Stiffly, he turned away from her and walked over to a small metal tray that seemed out of odds with the rest of the room. Large brown splashes dotted the walls and the cold, concrete floor. An old, cracked porcelain sink stood over in a corner, with a rusted tap coming out of the bare plaster. Water dripped slowly but insidiously into the sink. The sound of the water soothed his mortal soul.
Light glinted off metal. He smiled, the rank smell of iron, from the blood on the walls and floor, in his nose. Today was a good day. Slowly he turned back to Melissa and walked gradually; deliberately over to her, holding his hand out in front of him until she could focus on the scalpel. Her whimpers turned to screams as he advanced on her, all the while smiling at her.
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“So what are we doing for Christmas day? Are we going over to your parents or staying here?” Abby asked as Jon began to pack away a few food items he’d had delivered from a nearby supermarket.
“Why?” he asked, as he pulled open drawers, before switching the kettle on.
“Because if we’re staying here we need to get some food in, like a turkey and all the trimmings and then you need to teach me how to cook it.” Abby smiled, “I’m certain I’ve cooked one before but I’m buggered if I can remember how.” She poured coffee grounds into the large cafetiere that was sitting next to the kettle. Jon had managed to get an irish cream flavoured brand and she was itching to try it, having had a Baileys the previous night.
“I swear sometimes you use your amnesia to get out of all the interesting jobs.” Jon murmured as he looked in the cupboards, pulling them open one by one.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I meant I can’t remember if I’ve ever had to cook a roast dinner, not that I couldn’t do it. I can read instructions you know and I’m certain turkeys have big stickers on them with instructions on how to cook printed on them.” Abby stepped back, stung by Jon’s words. She’d been in a strange mood since Jon had woken her up that morning. Not that it wasn’t a nice way to wake up, she just felt on edge and irritable.
“Ok, I was just saying…” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice
“Well don’t,” she turned to look at him, as he poured hot water into the cafetiere, “Don’t you think it’s frustrating for me to have holes in my head. To not be able to remember films and books and people and things?, to have all these problems and not a single person out there can help me with it!!!” she stared at him, her voice getting more and more shrill with every word until she was shouting at him.
“What the fuck?” he turned to look at her, his arms slightly raised, palms up in the universal What the Fuck gesture. He turned back to the cafetiere that was resting against the terracotta splash back tiles and calmly poured himself a cup of coffee before flinging it, cup and all, across the kitchen, narrowly missing Abby, who froze where she stood.
“Problems? You think you’ve got fucking problems? What the fuck do you know about problems?,” he intoned, raising his arms up to the heavens, “Oh yeah, right, I forgot…you can’t remember your fucking problems…” he drawled, heavy sarcasm leeching out, his eyes wild and heavy, his chest heaving with exertion and anger.
Abby felt tears well up as she looked at him. Who was this man? She felt scared stiff with the realisation that she’d just been playing house with this man. That this wasn’t real, that she had a life somewhere out there. Slowly she back away and fled up the stairs.
Jon stood, sagging as the anger slowly left him, until he slid down the cupboard to sit on the floor.
You are such a fucking asshole… His conscience was back and gunning for him.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” he whispered to himself as tears flowed down his cheeks and he sobbed for the first time in a year.
“Well well Melissa, this will teach you not to touch my kitty cat’s things.” he bent down to whisper into her ear. The young woman was hyperventilating, her eyes darting about in absolute terror, her breathing was heavy and panting as sweat dripped down her brow, through her greasy, lank hair and onto the stained sheet beneath her. She felt like her limbs were being ripped apart and her veins were being chewed up by insects with metal teeth. She needed a fix.
He smiled as he thought how easy it had been for him to get to her. He had found her, with the rubber still wrapped around her upper arm, floppy and unresponsive. It had taken him a matter of minutes to pick her up and carry her back to this room. His special room. Stiffly, he turned away from her and walked over to a small metal tray that seemed out of odds with the rest of the room. Large brown splashes dotted the walls and the cold, concrete floor. An old, cracked porcelain sink stood over in a corner, with a rusted tap coming out of the bare plaster. Water dripped slowly but insidiously into the sink. The sound of the water soothed his mortal soul.
Light glinted off metal. He smiled, the rank smell of iron, from the blood on the walls and floor, in his nose. Today was a good day. Slowly he turned back to Melissa and walked gradually; deliberately over to her, holding his hand out in front of him until she could focus on the scalpel. Her whimpers turned to screams as he advanced on her, all the while smiling at her.
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“So what are we doing for Christmas day? Are we going over to your parents or staying here?” Abby asked as Jon began to pack away a few food items he’d had delivered from a nearby supermarket.
“Why?” he asked, as he pulled open drawers, before switching the kettle on.
“Because if we’re staying here we need to get some food in, like a turkey and all the trimmings and then you need to teach me how to cook it.” Abby smiled, “I’m certain I’ve cooked one before but I’m buggered if I can remember how.” She poured coffee grounds into the large cafetiere that was sitting next to the kettle. Jon had managed to get an irish cream flavoured brand and she was itching to try it, having had a Baileys the previous night.
“I swear sometimes you use your amnesia to get out of all the interesting jobs.” Jon murmured as he looked in the cupboards, pulling them open one by one.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it. I meant I can’t remember if I’ve ever had to cook a roast dinner, not that I couldn’t do it. I can read instructions you know and I’m certain turkeys have big stickers on them with instructions on how to cook printed on them.” Abby stepped back, stung by Jon’s words. She’d been in a strange mood since Jon had woken her up that morning. Not that it wasn’t a nice way to wake up, she just felt on edge and irritable.
“Ok, I was just saying…” he said, a hint of irritation in his voice
“Well don’t,” she turned to look at him, as he poured hot water into the cafetiere, “Don’t you think it’s frustrating for me to have holes in my head. To not be able to remember films and books and people and things?, to have all these problems and not a single person out there can help me with it!!!” she stared at him, her voice getting more and more shrill with every word until she was shouting at him.
“What the fuck?” he turned to look at her, his arms slightly raised, palms up in the universal What the Fuck gesture. He turned back to the cafetiere that was resting against the terracotta splash back tiles and calmly poured himself a cup of coffee before flinging it, cup and all, across the kitchen, narrowly missing Abby, who froze where she stood.
“Problems? You think you’ve got fucking problems? What the fuck do you know about problems?,” he intoned, raising his arms up to the heavens, “Oh yeah, right, I forgot…you can’t remember your fucking problems…” he drawled, heavy sarcasm leeching out, his eyes wild and heavy, his chest heaving with exertion and anger.
Abby felt tears well up as she looked at him. Who was this man? She felt scared stiff with the realisation that she’d just been playing house with this man. That this wasn’t real, that she had a life somewhere out there. Slowly she back away and fled up the stairs.
Jon stood, sagging as the anger slowly left him, until he slid down the cupboard to sit on the floor.
You are such a fucking asshole… His conscience was back and gunning for him.
“Tell me something I don’t know.” he whispered to himself as tears flowed down his cheeks and he sobbed for the first time in a year.
Thursday, 26 August 2010
Chapter nineteen
Abby woke to find herself encased in Jon’s warm embrace. She smiled and snuggled closer to him, pushing the heavy quilt away. Jon woke and, opening one eye, looked at the woman in his arms. He started to say something then the events of the previous night came flooding through and he couldn’t get any words out.
“What’s wrong? You looked like you were going to say something then stopped?,” she asked, before continuing, “or are you just Mr sleepyhead this morning? I feel like I’ve slept forever. Can’t remember the last time I slept so well,”. She sniggered slightly, “Must be you, you make a wonderful pillow.” she sighed and, closing her eyes, snuggled her head down on his chest, feeling the soft downy hair sponge against her cheek, as she burrowed down beneath the warmth of the quilt; protection against the slightly frigid air. It was early morning and the heating had not yet kicked in.
Jon tightened his grip on her slightly as he tried not to think about Obie’s report. Tenderly he pressed a kiss against her forehead, closing his eyes against anger that flooded through him. He took a moment to compose himself before opening his eyes again and looking at Abby, who was looking up at him quizzically.
She could see his eyes had darkened slightly. She took in the tenseness in his jaw and the thinning of his lips and knew he was angry about something. But what?
“Jon? Have I done something to upset you?” she asked, wondering whether he was still annoyed about the whole trip to his parents and running into his ex.
“What?” he looked at her, his features softening slightly as he looked at her face. She was chewing her bottom lip, something she always did when she was worried about something; usually Jon.
“No Abs, it’s not you, just something Obie told me last night. Something that I need to get to the bottom of.” he knew that he would as he said it, even if it cost him Abby. He needed to find out what had happened to her and who had done it.
“Oh ok,” she smiled, her face lighting. Sunlight streamed through the open curtains, illuminating her hair into a red gold halo. Jon reached out and grabbed a handful of the soft curls. He loved the smell of her hair; even though she used the same shampoo as he did, the smell seemed different.
She raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly at him. The invitation was not lost on him and he slowly reached down until his hand was resting on her shoulder. Slowly he peeled her away from him until she was lying on her back, smiling sensually at him.
“You are just edibly gorgeous, you know that…right?” he said as his eyes raked over her. Abby licked her lips and smiled at him. The quilt had been pushed off the bed and she was feeling the coolness in the air. Unconsciously she rubbed her arms, forcing her breasts to squash together. Jon’s eyes were almost black as he looked down at her. Abby smiled and slowly pulled down the straps of her top until she was bared before him. His cock leapt.
“You are just so fuckin’ sexy.”, he growled as he bent his head to kiss her. Her tongue duelled with his for dominance; knowing all along who would win. Jon spread his hand out over her breast before squeezing softly, feeling the taut nipple begging for release under his palm. “When I said edible…I meant it…” he whispered, his voice husky, as he bent to lave her breast.
Abby moaned softly, feeling the coolness of the air on her exposed skin where his tongue left saliva. She shivered as he licked and sucked on her skin, working his way down from her breasts to her belly. She reached down and ran her fingers through his thick lustrous bed head hair. Jon tilted his face so that he was looking her straight in the eye. It was all she could do to just lie there and watch as he traced his tongue lower and lower, his dextrous, nimble fingers untying her pajama pants with ease and lowering them with consummate skill. Abby smiled as she lifted her hips slightly to allow the material to be pulled off her.
“Commando?” he murmured, looking at her freshly shaven pussy. Abby looked at him through her lashes as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes half closed, unaware of how wantonly adorable or adorably wanton she looked to him.
She hissed in pleasure and surprise as she felt his tongue lave her pussy in one long, slow swipe. Jon gently placed his palms on her inner thighs, pushing them open, opening up her pelvis until she was totally exposed; open before him.
“Good thing I’m starving…” he murmured before burying his tongue inside her. His tongue laved the tight yet soft muscles inside, loving the taste of her juices that began to run slowly down into his mouth. Using his elbows as leverage he softly pinched her clitoris, feeling the sensitive nub harden under his touch. He spat gently onto it and began to rub; softly at first then harder as he felt her begin to struggle under his weight. A soft yet full fragrance hit him and he breathed deeply, his cock hardening even more at the scent of her arousal. She was all vanilla and chocolate and strawberry musk and he bit down, harder than he’d intended, as Abby shrieked at him.
“Jon! Fuck! That hurts…“
“I’m sorry baby, make it better…“ he murmured, his strong, husky voice reverberating through the soft thin skin of her clitoris. He laved the sore spot and she moaned. Smiling to himself he bit her inner thigh, revelling in the soft fragrant skin. Abby moaned louder, as he began to bite and lave her inner thighs, his thumb circling her over sensitised clitoris.
“Oh my god…Jon…I think I’m going to cum…” she whispered through gritted teeth as he bit and sucked her silky flesh, feeling faint ripples.
Abby panted, keening through her teeth as silver snakes shit through her abdomen and groin. Her breasts ached to be squeezed and pinched.
Jon knew he had to fuck her soon or her was going to lose it. It was hardly his fault that she was so damn hot she made him hard even when she was wearing sweat pants.
Abby was almost but not quite at the abyss when Jon pulled away. She groaned in shocked outrage. She looked at him. How dare he pull away when she was about to orgasm. She glared at him, her eyes screwed up in absolute outrage.
“Jon? What the…” what ever she was about to say was lost as he plunged himself deep inside her, causing her shocked muscles to flutter spasmodically. Not giving her a moment to catch her breath he set up a relentless rhythm, driving his hard cock deeper and deeper into her. He hadn’t broken eye contact once.
“Abby, open your eyes, look at me. Look at me!” he commanded as her eyes began to flutter closed.
She opened her eyes, feline style, and looked up into darkened indigo eyes. She was panting hard as he ripped into her, his muscled forearms locked on either side of her, sweat dripping down. She smiled softly as she looked up into the eyes of the man she loved. She was lost in sensation, feeling silver snakes writhing all around and through her body, smelling his scent as it wound its way around her, entrapping her within his essence. Her legs were shaking, her skin goose bumped with cold sweat. Her stomach began to clench involuntarily as her orgasm neared.
Jon looked down at the woman he loved and knew she was nearing orgasm. He loved knowing that he was giving her pleasure. He pulled his torso up slightly and angled himself so that his pelvic bone caught her clit with every thrust. He only had to thrust once before she was a mass of writhing nerve ends, screaming out his name, her tight, hot flesh clenching around him. He only had to thrust one more time before he joined her.
“I love you.” he whispered as he rolled off and lay down beside her. Abby was very sensitive and he knew not to crowd her after an orgasm as she could get jittery and irritable. He had discovered that to his chagrin.
“I love you too.” she said, reaching out to pull him close to her.
“I thought you didn’t like to cuddle after sex?”
“Ah, I changed my mind, besides, I’m cold and you’re warm.” she laughed.
“What’s wrong? You looked like you were going to say something then stopped?,” she asked, before continuing, “or are you just Mr sleepyhead this morning? I feel like I’ve slept forever. Can’t remember the last time I slept so well,”. She sniggered slightly, “Must be you, you make a wonderful pillow.” she sighed and, closing her eyes, snuggled her head down on his chest, feeling the soft downy hair sponge against her cheek, as she burrowed down beneath the warmth of the quilt; protection against the slightly frigid air. It was early morning and the heating had not yet kicked in.
Jon tightened his grip on her slightly as he tried not to think about Obie’s report. Tenderly he pressed a kiss against her forehead, closing his eyes against anger that flooded through him. He took a moment to compose himself before opening his eyes again and looking at Abby, who was looking up at him quizzically.
She could see his eyes had darkened slightly. She took in the tenseness in his jaw and the thinning of his lips and knew he was angry about something. But what?
“Jon? Have I done something to upset you?” she asked, wondering whether he was still annoyed about the whole trip to his parents and running into his ex.
“What?” he looked at her, his features softening slightly as he looked at her face. She was chewing her bottom lip, something she always did when she was worried about something; usually Jon.
“No Abs, it’s not you, just something Obie told me last night. Something that I need to get to the bottom of.” he knew that he would as he said it, even if it cost him Abby. He needed to find out what had happened to her and who had done it.
“Oh ok,” she smiled, her face lighting. Sunlight streamed through the open curtains, illuminating her hair into a red gold halo. Jon reached out and grabbed a handful of the soft curls. He loved the smell of her hair; even though she used the same shampoo as he did, the smell seemed different.
She raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly at him. The invitation was not lost on him and he slowly reached down until his hand was resting on her shoulder. Slowly he peeled her away from him until she was lying on her back, smiling sensually at him.
“You are just edibly gorgeous, you know that…right?” he said as his eyes raked over her. Abby licked her lips and smiled at him. The quilt had been pushed off the bed and she was feeling the coolness in the air. Unconsciously she rubbed her arms, forcing her breasts to squash together. Jon’s eyes were almost black as he looked down at her. Abby smiled and slowly pulled down the straps of her top until she was bared before him. His cock leapt.
“You are just so fuckin’ sexy.”, he growled as he bent his head to kiss her. Her tongue duelled with his for dominance; knowing all along who would win. Jon spread his hand out over her breast before squeezing softly, feeling the taut nipple begging for release under his palm. “When I said edible…I meant it…” he whispered, his voice husky, as he bent to lave her breast.
Abby moaned softly, feeling the coolness of the air on her exposed skin where his tongue left saliva. She shivered as he licked and sucked on her skin, working his way down from her breasts to her belly. She reached down and ran her fingers through his thick lustrous bed head hair. Jon tilted his face so that he was looking her straight in the eye. It was all she could do to just lie there and watch as he traced his tongue lower and lower, his dextrous, nimble fingers untying her pajama pants with ease and lowering them with consummate skill. Abby smiled as she lifted her hips slightly to allow the material to be pulled off her.
“Commando?” he murmured, looking at her freshly shaven pussy. Abby looked at him through her lashes as she bit her bottom lip, her eyes half closed, unaware of how wantonly adorable or adorably wanton she looked to him.
She hissed in pleasure and surprise as she felt his tongue lave her pussy in one long, slow swipe. Jon gently placed his palms on her inner thighs, pushing them open, opening up her pelvis until she was totally exposed; open before him.
“Good thing I’m starving…” he murmured before burying his tongue inside her. His tongue laved the tight yet soft muscles inside, loving the taste of her juices that began to run slowly down into his mouth. Using his elbows as leverage he softly pinched her clitoris, feeling the sensitive nub harden under his touch. He spat gently onto it and began to rub; softly at first then harder as he felt her begin to struggle under his weight. A soft yet full fragrance hit him and he breathed deeply, his cock hardening even more at the scent of her arousal. She was all vanilla and chocolate and strawberry musk and he bit down, harder than he’d intended, as Abby shrieked at him.
“Jon! Fuck! That hurts…“
“I’m sorry baby, make it better…“ he murmured, his strong, husky voice reverberating through the soft thin skin of her clitoris. He laved the sore spot and she moaned. Smiling to himself he bit her inner thigh, revelling in the soft fragrant skin. Abby moaned louder, as he began to bite and lave her inner thighs, his thumb circling her over sensitised clitoris.
“Oh my god…Jon…I think I’m going to cum…” she whispered through gritted teeth as he bit and sucked her silky flesh, feeling faint ripples.
Abby panted, keening through her teeth as silver snakes shit through her abdomen and groin. Her breasts ached to be squeezed and pinched.
Jon knew he had to fuck her soon or her was going to lose it. It was hardly his fault that she was so damn hot she made him hard even when she was wearing sweat pants.
Abby was almost but not quite at the abyss when Jon pulled away. She groaned in shocked outrage. She looked at him. How dare he pull away when she was about to orgasm. She glared at him, her eyes screwed up in absolute outrage.
“Jon? What the…” what ever she was about to say was lost as he plunged himself deep inside her, causing her shocked muscles to flutter spasmodically. Not giving her a moment to catch her breath he set up a relentless rhythm, driving his hard cock deeper and deeper into her. He hadn’t broken eye contact once.
“Abby, open your eyes, look at me. Look at me!” he commanded as her eyes began to flutter closed.
She opened her eyes, feline style, and looked up into darkened indigo eyes. She was panting hard as he ripped into her, his muscled forearms locked on either side of her, sweat dripping down. She smiled softly as she looked up into the eyes of the man she loved. She was lost in sensation, feeling silver snakes writhing all around and through her body, smelling his scent as it wound its way around her, entrapping her within his essence. Her legs were shaking, her skin goose bumped with cold sweat. Her stomach began to clench involuntarily as her orgasm neared.
Jon looked down at the woman he loved and knew she was nearing orgasm. He loved knowing that he was giving her pleasure. He pulled his torso up slightly and angled himself so that his pelvic bone caught her clit with every thrust. He only had to thrust once before she was a mass of writhing nerve ends, screaming out his name, her tight, hot flesh clenching around him. He only had to thrust one more time before he joined her.
“I love you.” he whispered as he rolled off and lay down beside her. Abby was very sensitive and he knew not to crowd her after an orgasm as she could get jittery and irritable. He had discovered that to his chagrin.
“I love you too.” she said, reaching out to pull him close to her.
“I thought you didn’t like to cuddle after sex?”
“Ah, I changed my mind, besides, I’m cold and you’re warm.” she laughed.
Monday, 31 May 2010
Chapter Eighteen
(Only a short one...)
Jon lit a cigarette and sat back in the reclining chair. Over the past few weeks he had become a night owl again, as he’d been in the early eighties when he’d been trying to get noticed and had been using the studio in the wee small hours of the morning. He breathed the acrid smoke out and sighed. He was waiting for a call from Obie. Obie had called that morning but as Abby had been around Jon couldn’t really talk and so he was sat smoking at 2am on Christmas Eve. Abby had already gone up to bed at about 1am and he’d spend the past hour reflecting over what she had asked him a couple of days back; about who she was. From the tone of Obie’s voice Jon just knew he was about to find out.
Jon’s blackberry rang softly and he tapped it.
“’lo?”
“Jon, it’s Obie, can you talk now?” Obie sounded a little pissed off.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Jon chose to ignore the sarcasm in the older man’s voice, for once.
“I got some info on Abby and it’s, well, it’s not good.”
Jon went silent. After all his pushing Obie for information, now he was about to hear it he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Go on.” He said, steeling himself for the worst. He just knew she was married and that he was going to lose her.
“I managed to trace what happened to her after she ‘disappeared’ without a trace. She went to live with her paternal uncle and aunt and changed her name.”
Obie paused. “Listen Jon, I’m not sure delving into this girls past is really gonna help you know? “
Jon sat up straight. “Obie…”
“Jon I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna make a damn bit of difference whether you know her past or not.”
“Obie if you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to ram this phone so far up your ass you’ll be able to make internal calls.”
“Ok, but I know how you feel about her, Richie told on you, and I don’t want this to change that, ok?”
“Ok, jeez what the hell could make me change the way I feel about her? What? Did she kill someone?” Jon blew out angry air, his cigarette smouldering away to nothing in the big crystal ashtray by his side.
“Not exactly…” Obie began
“For fuck’s sake Ob, spill it..now!”
“She and her family were attacked on Christmas Eve 1986. Her father was stabbed, her mother was raped and stabbed and Abby was left for dead. I’ve got a newspaper cutting giving the details if you want to read it but I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s pretty gruesome. They were found on Christmas morning by the aunt and uncle who had turned up to spend the day. Abby was in hospital for over 2 months, broken bones, abrasions…”
Jon looked at the wall in front of him, not seeing anything but Abby’s face, smiling at him.
“Was she…?’ he couldn’t even bring himself to say it as a pure white anger spread through his body. He wanted to find this son of a bitch and rip him in pieces.
The hesitation in Obie’s voice told him all he needed to know.
“What happened…after?”
“She went to live with her aunt and uncle and they changed their last name. That’s as much as I’ve been able to find out so far. All the records are sealed and as yet I haven’t been able to access them.”
Jon thanked Obie and set the phone down on the small table next to him. He felt sick. He kept seeing Abby’s face in his minds eye, drawn back in fear and terror and he wanted to kill.
Silently he made his way out of the room and up to his bed. He slipped in beside Abby and wrapped his strong arms around her, hoping her hair would hide the tears that fell. He felt her pain and fragility and wept quietly for what had happened to her.
Abby shifted in her sleep as she felt Jon wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and fell back into a deep, warm sleep, feeling safe and secure.
Jon lit a cigarette and sat back in the reclining chair. Over the past few weeks he had become a night owl again, as he’d been in the early eighties when he’d been trying to get noticed and had been using the studio in the wee small hours of the morning. He breathed the acrid smoke out and sighed. He was waiting for a call from Obie. Obie had called that morning but as Abby had been around Jon couldn’t really talk and so he was sat smoking at 2am on Christmas Eve. Abby had already gone up to bed at about 1am and he’d spend the past hour reflecting over what she had asked him a couple of days back; about who she was. From the tone of Obie’s voice Jon just knew he was about to find out.
Jon’s blackberry rang softly and he tapped it.
“’lo?”
“Jon, it’s Obie, can you talk now?” Obie sounded a little pissed off.
“Yeah, what’s up?” Jon chose to ignore the sarcasm in the older man’s voice, for once.
“I got some info on Abby and it’s, well, it’s not good.”
Jon went silent. After all his pushing Obie for information, now he was about to hear it he wasn’t sure he wanted to.
“Go on.” He said, steeling himself for the worst. He just knew she was married and that he was going to lose her.
“I managed to trace what happened to her after she ‘disappeared’ without a trace. She went to live with her paternal uncle and aunt and changed her name.”
Obie paused. “Listen Jon, I’m not sure delving into this girls past is really gonna help you know? “
Jon sat up straight. “Obie…”
“Jon I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna make a damn bit of difference whether you know her past or not.”
“Obie if you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to ram this phone so far up your ass you’ll be able to make internal calls.”
“Ok, but I know how you feel about her, Richie told on you, and I don’t want this to change that, ok?”
“Ok, jeez what the hell could make me change the way I feel about her? What? Did she kill someone?” Jon blew out angry air, his cigarette smouldering away to nothing in the big crystal ashtray by his side.
“Not exactly…” Obie began
“For fuck’s sake Ob, spill it..now!”
“She and her family were attacked on Christmas Eve 1986. Her father was stabbed, her mother was raped and stabbed and Abby was left for dead. I’ve got a newspaper cutting giving the details if you want to read it but I wouldn’t if I were you. It’s pretty gruesome. They were found on Christmas morning by the aunt and uncle who had turned up to spend the day. Abby was in hospital for over 2 months, broken bones, abrasions…”
Jon looked at the wall in front of him, not seeing anything but Abby’s face, smiling at him.
“Was she…?’ he couldn’t even bring himself to say it as a pure white anger spread through his body. He wanted to find this son of a bitch and rip him in pieces.
The hesitation in Obie’s voice told him all he needed to know.
“What happened…after?”
“She went to live with her aunt and uncle and they changed their last name. That’s as much as I’ve been able to find out so far. All the records are sealed and as yet I haven’t been able to access them.”
Jon thanked Obie and set the phone down on the small table next to him. He felt sick. He kept seeing Abby’s face in his minds eye, drawn back in fear and terror and he wanted to kill.
Silently he made his way out of the room and up to his bed. He slipped in beside Abby and wrapped his strong arms around her, hoping her hair would hide the tears that fell. He felt her pain and fragility and wept quietly for what had happened to her.
Abby shifted in her sleep as she felt Jon wrap his arms around her. She snuggled back into him and fell back into a deep, warm sleep, feeling safe and secure.
Friday, 14 May 2010
Chapter Seventeen
Thwack! The cue ball spun away from the end of the cue. Jon didn’t care whether it hit the target or not. What a fucking awful day. Dot and the boys had only stayed for a couple of hours before leaving with a hastily made up excuse. Even so she’d still managed to make him feel about yay small. Abby had done her best to keep the conversation light and bright and, well, flowing but even she’d had to admit defeat under the barrage of monosyllabic responses. The only bright part of the day had been spending time with his sons, even though Jesse hadn’t left his mum’s side the entire time. He hated the way she made him feel and she didn’t even have to say a word in order to do so. Just a look, an accusation made silently by eyes he was so familiar with and yet didn’t really know.
At least his mum seemed to like Abby. She’d pulled him aside as Abby had gone to the bathroom and had smiled and kissed his cheek. This was the closest she ever got to congratulating him. Even after all this time and every thing he’d achieved he couldn’t remember the last time he’d received a ‘well done son, I’m proud of you’ from her. It wasn’t fair. Tony and Matt had always been hugged and petted but not him; never him.
Mind elsewhere he took another shot, the colours blurring as a film of tears filled his eyes. Angrily he blinked them away. Now was not the time to get upset over a perceived familial slight.
He sighed and surveyed the table, its brightly coloured balls seemed to be mocking him in their garish frivolity. He slammed the cue down onto the green baize and rested, bent over the table, gripping the wood so hard veins stood out on his forearms. His head bent low as he stared unseeing. It wasn’t even a year since…since the accident…since his world had been shattered and turned upside down…
‘Fuck it, it wasn’t my fault. There was no way I could’ve stopped in time, all the cops said so.’ He muttered as he stepped back to line up his next shot.
Abby was in a strange mood. The drive back had been horrendous. Jon had pouted in silence all the way home. She’d tried to talk to him but after the first hour she’d stopped and had turned to watch the scenery flash by. It had been a long and uncomfortable drive back from New Jersey. Jon had walked into the house, dumped his coat on the sofa and headed off at such a speed she hadn’t been able to see which room he’d headed for. She’d heard a door slam and had decided not to follow. Instead she had taken the opportunity to go through all of the memorabilia that Jon had collected over the years. She tried to lose herself in the old memories that Jon had built up but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in some way to blame for his mood. There was a thought that had been swimming round her head for a while, really ever since Jon had brought her to his house. Abby smiled wryly. She thought of it as home but it wasn’t really, was it? It was Jon’s home and she was just a guest, albeit a guest who was sleeping with the owner. Somewhere out there was her home, with all her belongings and a sense of who she was and she was just treading water here. The thought just wouldn’t go away. It was in this pensive mood that Jon found her, blindly staring at the tv screen blaring away.
“Hey babe, watcha doin?” he asked as he breezed into the den. A younger, fitter version of himself was running about on stage and he grimaced as he caught sight of himself.
“Abs?”
He muttered to himself as he looked for the remote to turn off the TV. ‘How the hell can you hear me with this playing loudly?’
He picked up the big remote control and clicked the TV off.
Abby came out of her reverie as the absence of noise filtered through to her. She turned to the man standing beside her.
“Jon!” she exclaimed, “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Apparently so.” He drawled
“Sorry?” she asked, not getting it.
“The music? It was so loud, no wonder you couldn’t hear me. I called you a few times but go no reply. This den is sound proofed so I couldn’t hear you had the TV on until I came in.”
“Sorry I didn’t think you’d mind loud music.”
“It’s ok babe,” he sighed, “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Abby reached up for his hand, marvelling at the warmth of his flesh.
“Come and sit down Jon, I need to talk to you, and thank you. You really were in a shitty mood and it’s good to know it’s not me. I was worried for a bit that it was, that you didn’t want to take care of me anymore.”
“Oh hey hon, it wasn’t that, it would never be that. I like having you here…love having you here.” He said softly as he sat down next to her, not letting go of her hand.
“So…” he began, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Who am I Jon?”
Jon felt the smile slip away and his stomach began to churn.
“Erm, you’re Abby.” He stated baldly.
“I know that, silly, I mean who is Abby? What does she like? What does she do for a living, where does she live for that matter? I have no idea who I am and I think it’s time I started to…” she faltered as Jon’s face fell.
“What?” she asked softly, “what’s wrong? Don’t you want to help me find out who I am? I mean I’m not even the same person you met.”
“I’ve already said I didn’t know you that well before, and I like who you are just fine.” He replied, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. He broke away from her and stood up.
“Like?” she whispered, staring down at the floor, not wanting, not able to look into his face just in case.
Jon crouched down until his face was next to hers.
“Abby?” he said, tenderly, “Abby, look at me…please?”
Abby looked into his eyes, expecting to see pity and saw something else entirely.
“I love you.” He whispered as he brought his lips down on hers.
At least his mum seemed to like Abby. She’d pulled him aside as Abby had gone to the bathroom and had smiled and kissed his cheek. This was the closest she ever got to congratulating him. Even after all this time and every thing he’d achieved he couldn’t remember the last time he’d received a ‘well done son, I’m proud of you’ from her. It wasn’t fair. Tony and Matt had always been hugged and petted but not him; never him.
Mind elsewhere he took another shot, the colours blurring as a film of tears filled his eyes. Angrily he blinked them away. Now was not the time to get upset over a perceived familial slight.
He sighed and surveyed the table, its brightly coloured balls seemed to be mocking him in their garish frivolity. He slammed the cue down onto the green baize and rested, bent over the table, gripping the wood so hard veins stood out on his forearms. His head bent low as he stared unseeing. It wasn’t even a year since…since the accident…since his world had been shattered and turned upside down…
‘Fuck it, it wasn’t my fault. There was no way I could’ve stopped in time, all the cops said so.’ He muttered as he stepped back to line up his next shot.
Abby was in a strange mood. The drive back had been horrendous. Jon had pouted in silence all the way home. She’d tried to talk to him but after the first hour she’d stopped and had turned to watch the scenery flash by. It had been a long and uncomfortable drive back from New Jersey. Jon had walked into the house, dumped his coat on the sofa and headed off at such a speed she hadn’t been able to see which room he’d headed for. She’d heard a door slam and had decided not to follow. Instead she had taken the opportunity to go through all of the memorabilia that Jon had collected over the years. She tried to lose herself in the old memories that Jon had built up but couldn’t shake the feeling that she was in some way to blame for his mood. There was a thought that had been swimming round her head for a while, really ever since Jon had brought her to his house. Abby smiled wryly. She thought of it as home but it wasn’t really, was it? It was Jon’s home and she was just a guest, albeit a guest who was sleeping with the owner. Somewhere out there was her home, with all her belongings and a sense of who she was and she was just treading water here. The thought just wouldn’t go away. It was in this pensive mood that Jon found her, blindly staring at the tv screen blaring away.
“Hey babe, watcha doin?” he asked as he breezed into the den. A younger, fitter version of himself was running about on stage and he grimaced as he caught sight of himself.
“Abs?”
He muttered to himself as he looked for the remote to turn off the TV. ‘How the hell can you hear me with this playing loudly?’
He picked up the big remote control and clicked the TV off.
Abby came out of her reverie as the absence of noise filtered through to her. She turned to the man standing beside her.
“Jon!” she exclaimed, “Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Apparently so.” He drawled
“Sorry?” she asked, not getting it.
“The music? It was so loud, no wonder you couldn’t hear me. I called you a few times but go no reply. This den is sound proofed so I couldn’t hear you had the TV on until I came in.”
“Sorry I didn’t think you’d mind loud music.”
“It’s ok babe,” he sighed, “Listen, I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”
Abby reached up for his hand, marvelling at the warmth of his flesh.
“Come and sit down Jon, I need to talk to you, and thank you. You really were in a shitty mood and it’s good to know it’s not me. I was worried for a bit that it was, that you didn’t want to take care of me anymore.”
“Oh hey hon, it wasn’t that, it would never be that. I like having you here…love having you here.” He said softly as he sat down next to her, not letting go of her hand.
“So…” he began, a soft smile playing on his lips.
“Who am I Jon?”
Jon felt the smile slip away and his stomach began to churn.
“Erm, you’re Abby.” He stated baldly.
“I know that, silly, I mean who is Abby? What does she like? What does she do for a living, where does she live for that matter? I have no idea who I am and I think it’s time I started to…” she faltered as Jon’s face fell.
“What?” she asked softly, “what’s wrong? Don’t you want to help me find out who I am? I mean I’m not even the same person you met.”
“I’ve already said I didn’t know you that well before, and I like who you are just fine.” He replied, a hint of stubbornness in his tone. He broke away from her and stood up.
“Like?” she whispered, staring down at the floor, not wanting, not able to look into his face just in case.
Jon crouched down until his face was next to hers.
“Abby?” he said, tenderly, “Abby, look at me…please?”
Abby looked into his eyes, expecting to see pity and saw something else entirely.
“I love you.” He whispered as he brought his lips down on hers.
Thursday, 28 January 2010
Chapter Sixteen
Jon pulled the Corvette up the driveway of his parents house and cut the engine. They still lived in the house he’d grown up in and he loved coming home to see them. Out of all the places he’d been in his life and all the houses he’d lived in, this one was the closest to his heart; the one place he always felt safe and loved. Every room held a good memory and one room in particular, his old bedroom, held some great memories, some of them so great he was still glad his mom didn’t know what he’d gotten up to in the dead of the night. He turned to look at Abby.
Abby sat looking at the slightly weather worn, but well loved and cared for, two storey house. It had a double garage attached to it and a huge, sloping front lawn. It was a big but welcoming house that just screamed of home. She was feeling so nervous she could scream. Even with her patchwork memory she knew it a big deal to ‘meet the parents’. She’d been quiet on the journey over, feeling…well she wasn’t really sure what it was that she was feeling. Anxious, nervous, excited, happy, sad. Take your pick.
“Ok babe, we’re here,” Jon said as he opened his door, indicating that she should do the same, “I hope to God they’re in.” he added as an after thought as he locked the car up and they made their way over to the front door.
A huge evergreen wreath hung on the door, covered in red holly berries and mistletoe. A sign hung further below it proclaiming A Merry Xmas to all who read it.
Jon knocked the door and pulled Abby closer to him. He was, all of a sudden, really nervous. What if his mom didn’t like her? Or worse, what if she saw straight through him and into the lie he had created a world around.
The door opened and he smiled. A real smile, not the fake megawatt smile used all around the world, but a real, genuine happy smile.
“Hey mom, surprise!” he said, sounding quite lame, as he and Abby moved passed his mom and into the hallway.
The house was cosy and warm inside and spoke of love and affection. Honey coloured wood gleamed all around them with fairy lights sparkling from every available nook and cranny. Jon led the way into the elegant but homely living room.
“Jon! What are you doing here? I wish you‘d called.” his mom said, sounding completely surprised.
Abby could hear a car pulling up outside and glanced through the front windows to see a humvee parked next to Jon’s corvette.
“Since when do I need an appointment mom? Where‘s dad?” he asked, his smile beginning to slip.
A car door slammed.
“Oh Jon, Dot’s here, with the kids. She called yesterday and asked if they could come visit. I didn’t know you’d turn up as well, your dad‘s just gone to the shops to get some more milk…” his mom trailed off as the door banged open and three boys ran in.
“Granma!”
A brown haired boy came barrelling in only to stop dead in his tracks.
“Dad?” he said, disbelief in his voice.
“Hey Romie.” Jon replied his manner stiff at first, which then melted completely as his son ran to him and wrapped his arms around Jon’s legs.
Jon sank to the floor to embrace him fully, feeling a tear fall down his face.
“I’ve missed you so much Romie.” he whispered as the young boy sniffled, his face buried in Jon’s chest.
Jon looked up to see two sets of equally surprised yet wary eyes staring back at him. He smiled and held his free arm out to them.
His middle son cam over straight away but his eldest held back. Jon looked at him sadly.
“Dad, what are you doing here? Does Mom know you’re here?” Jake
“I came to visit your Granma, Jake. I didn‘t know you guys were going to be here but I‘m so glad you are.” He could feel a part of his heart starting to thaw as he breathed in the familiar scent of his youngest children, Romeo and Jake. His eldest son, Jesse, just stood back in the doorway of the room, either unable or unwilling to go near his dad.
“Jesse, what are you doing standing in the doorway? Go on, go in, I’ve got my hands full of presents and need to put them…”
Jon looked up into the face of his ex wife as her voice trailed off.
“Jon.” she said, looking for a place to put the brightly wrapped parcels.
“Dot.” he replied, feeling lost for words.
Abby looked at the beautiful elegant woman standing, looking at Jon with disdain and wanted to disappear. She could feel the waves of animosity flowing across the room and wanted nothing more than to not be there.
“Boys can you come here please?” Dot asked, the tone pleasant enough. Her eyes and demeanour were hard.
Jake and Romeo pulled back from their dad reluctantly and made their way over to where Dot stood, her spine tense.
“Did you do this Carol? Did you ask him over here knowing we would be here?” Dot turned and asked her ex mother-in-law, harshly.
“No…” Carol faltered.
“Hey Dot leave my mom alone ok? She didn’t know we were coming over today and I had no idea you were gonna show up, so let’s just drop it ok and see if we can’t play Happy Families, just for one day?” Jon said, hoping to god she’d agree and he’d get to spend a couple of hours with his boys.
Dot looked from him to her two youngest and after what seemed like an eternity, she relaxed somewhat and nodded her agreement.
Abby could feel the tension flowing out of the room as both Jon and Dot silently agreed to be on their best behaviour, if only for a few hours.
Dot shucked her coat off and laid it across the back of a chair. She looked around the once familiar room and her eyes settled on Abby.
“So, Jon, you gonna introduce us?” Dot asked.
Abby sat looking at the slightly weather worn, but well loved and cared for, two storey house. It had a double garage attached to it and a huge, sloping front lawn. It was a big but welcoming house that just screamed of home. She was feeling so nervous she could scream. Even with her patchwork memory she knew it a big deal to ‘meet the parents’. She’d been quiet on the journey over, feeling…well she wasn’t really sure what it was that she was feeling. Anxious, nervous, excited, happy, sad. Take your pick.
“Ok babe, we’re here,” Jon said as he opened his door, indicating that she should do the same, “I hope to God they’re in.” he added as an after thought as he locked the car up and they made their way over to the front door.
A huge evergreen wreath hung on the door, covered in red holly berries and mistletoe. A sign hung further below it proclaiming A Merry Xmas to all who read it.
Jon knocked the door and pulled Abby closer to him. He was, all of a sudden, really nervous. What if his mom didn’t like her? Or worse, what if she saw straight through him and into the lie he had created a world around.
The door opened and he smiled. A real smile, not the fake megawatt smile used all around the world, but a real, genuine happy smile.
“Hey mom, surprise!” he said, sounding quite lame, as he and Abby moved passed his mom and into the hallway.
The house was cosy and warm inside and spoke of love and affection. Honey coloured wood gleamed all around them with fairy lights sparkling from every available nook and cranny. Jon led the way into the elegant but homely living room.
“Jon! What are you doing here? I wish you‘d called.” his mom said, sounding completely surprised.
Abby could hear a car pulling up outside and glanced through the front windows to see a humvee parked next to Jon’s corvette.
“Since when do I need an appointment mom? Where‘s dad?” he asked, his smile beginning to slip.
A car door slammed.
“Oh Jon, Dot’s here, with the kids. She called yesterday and asked if they could come visit. I didn’t know you’d turn up as well, your dad‘s just gone to the shops to get some more milk…” his mom trailed off as the door banged open and three boys ran in.
“Granma!”
A brown haired boy came barrelling in only to stop dead in his tracks.
“Dad?” he said, disbelief in his voice.
“Hey Romie.” Jon replied his manner stiff at first, which then melted completely as his son ran to him and wrapped his arms around Jon’s legs.
Jon sank to the floor to embrace him fully, feeling a tear fall down his face.
“I’ve missed you so much Romie.” he whispered as the young boy sniffled, his face buried in Jon’s chest.
Jon looked up to see two sets of equally surprised yet wary eyes staring back at him. He smiled and held his free arm out to them.
His middle son cam over straight away but his eldest held back. Jon looked at him sadly.
“Dad, what are you doing here? Does Mom know you’re here?” Jake
“I came to visit your Granma, Jake. I didn‘t know you guys were going to be here but I‘m so glad you are.” He could feel a part of his heart starting to thaw as he breathed in the familiar scent of his youngest children, Romeo and Jake. His eldest son, Jesse, just stood back in the doorway of the room, either unable or unwilling to go near his dad.
“Jesse, what are you doing standing in the doorway? Go on, go in, I’ve got my hands full of presents and need to put them…”
Jon looked up into the face of his ex wife as her voice trailed off.
“Jon.” she said, looking for a place to put the brightly wrapped parcels.
“Dot.” he replied, feeling lost for words.
Abby looked at the beautiful elegant woman standing, looking at Jon with disdain and wanted to disappear. She could feel the waves of animosity flowing across the room and wanted nothing more than to not be there.
“Boys can you come here please?” Dot asked, the tone pleasant enough. Her eyes and demeanour were hard.
Jake and Romeo pulled back from their dad reluctantly and made their way over to where Dot stood, her spine tense.
“Did you do this Carol? Did you ask him over here knowing we would be here?” Dot turned and asked her ex mother-in-law, harshly.
“No…” Carol faltered.
“Hey Dot leave my mom alone ok? She didn’t know we were coming over today and I had no idea you were gonna show up, so let’s just drop it ok and see if we can’t play Happy Families, just for one day?” Jon said, hoping to god she’d agree and he’d get to spend a couple of hours with his boys.
Dot looked from him to her two youngest and after what seemed like an eternity, she relaxed somewhat and nodded her agreement.
Abby could feel the tension flowing out of the room as both Jon and Dot silently agreed to be on their best behaviour, if only for a few hours.
Dot shucked her coat off and laid it across the back of a chair. She looked around the once familiar room and her eyes settled on Abby.
“So, Jon, you gonna introduce us?” Dot asked.
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Chapter Fifteen
“Hey Sutton, my office now.”
Luke sighed as he heard his Captain’s distinctive bellow across the crowded squad room. He wondered, as he pushed his chair away from his desk, what kind of bollocking he was going to get this time. Truth was, he was nowhere with his missing person. He’d had the pizza box he’d found sent to forensics but there were no discernible latent prints, only badly smudged partials that had no matches in AFIS, the automated fingerprint identification system, nor was there enough DNA, from either skin epithelials or body fluids, in order to track a DNA fingerprint through CODIS, the Combined DNA Index System. He was up shit creek and the paddle had said goodbye a long time ago.
He walked over feeling very much like a man going to the gallows.
“You want to see me Captain?” Luke said, feeling nervous and angry. Angry that he was in this situation to begin with. Angry that he’d been taken off a murder just to find some missing woman, who probably wasn’t missing at all and who was probably holed up with a boyfriend somewhere.
“Yeah, get down to the cells, someone’s just been booked for using a stolen credit card...”
“Captain, what the fuck?” Luke snapped.
“…in the name of Jenna Riley. I assume you haven’t found her yet?”
Luke shook his head, slightly abashed.
“Didn’t think so,” the Captain said, tightly, “So get down there. She‘s a junkie and you don’t have much time before she spirals.”
Luke turned to go.
“And Sutton?,”
Luke turned back.
“Don’t fuck this one up.”
Luke’s jaw tightened in anger.
Luke sat opposite the young, skinny girl, dressed in a tight, short skirt and a tight teeshirt that stretched across her small breasts. She was wearing an oversized parka coat with ragged, grubby fur around the hood, torn tights and a pair of fake Ugg boots with multiple stains all over them He had her details in front of him, or, at least, the details she’d given them. Whether they were true or not was up for grabs.
“So, Melissa, It is Melissa isn’t it?, not Jenna by any chance?”
Melissa scowled, making her face ugly. She sat hunched up in the grey plastic chair and chewed on her ragged fingernails. Her fingerprints had already been taken and she screwed her face up as she tasted some left over ink residue.
“You know, if you don’t stop biting your nails you’ll reach your elbows one day.” Luke said softly.
She flashed a look at him and he was taken aback by the sheer amount of hatred in her eyes.
“How old are you Melissa?” he asked.
“18.What the fuck‘s it gotta do with you.” came her sullen reply.
“Let’s try again, how old are you?”
“17.”
“And again?”
“16.”
Luke raised his eyebrows, keeping direct eye contact. Beneath the caked on make up and the arrogance, she was barely a young adult.
“Melissa, we have your fingerprints and if you’re already in the system then you know it’ll only be a matter of time before we know everything about you. If you don’t tell me the truth then I can’t help you and using a stolen credit card is a felony for which you could be jailed. Do you understand? You could be locked up for this? So let’s cut the bullshit shall we and start telling me the truth.” he said harshly, staring at the underfed girl in front of him.
He knew that whatever had led her to the state she was in must have been bad but right now, he didn’t have the time or the inclination to care. He had a missing adult to find and if he had to bulldoze his way through some fucked up teenager then he would. He would feel bad about it when he could afford to.
A film of tears appeared in the girls eyes, making her look even younger.
“I’m 15.” she said, her voice hollow and defeated.
“That’s better. Where did you find the card?” he asked, watching the girl sink lower and lower into her seat.
He lowered his voice and relaxed his stance.
“Melissa, I’m not interested in what you tried to buy with the card or even that you had it. I want to know where you found it. If you co-operate with me I’ll see what I can do about the charges.” Luke said, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do.
Melissa lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were glassy but held malevolence, her skin mottled and drawn. She had the look of an addict. Luke wondered how long she’d been smoking and whether she was now injecting.
“Bryant Park.” she said in a quiet voice.
“When?”
“Huh?” she said.
“When did you find it?” Luke asked, softly. He knew he had to work fast as she seemed to be losing the plot fast.
“Erm, like two days ago? I was there…to meet some friends,” she said, shifting in her seat, which Luke translated as ‘I was there to score’, “And I saw this red thing sticking out of the dirt, I waited till my friends had gone and then dug it up. It was a wallet.”
Luke sat up straighter. Did this mean she had the wallet on her? No, of course she didn’t, she’d been searched already before she’d been placed in the holding cells, along with having her fingerprints taken.
“What did you do with the wallet.”
“Um…threw it.” her voice was wispy
“Where? Think Melissa, please. Where did you throw it?”
“Hmm?”
“the wallet? Where did you throw it?”
“Oh, the park. I took the credit card and dropped the wallet back into the hole.”
“What hole?” Luke asked, wondering if his luck had run out. He was proved right when she leant forward and vomited all over the grey lino, before collapsing into a shuddering heap.
Thankfully help was on hand and Luke left her in their capable hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abby felt a strong pair of arms encircle her waist.
“Morning beautiful.” Jon whispered, huskily, as he bent to nibble on her neck.
She giggled as she felt his warm lips and tongue sweep the skin under her ear. It was a tender, ticklish spot which he well knew about and she squirmed slightly in his grasp.
“Jon…stop. It hurts.” she gasped, laughing, her heart rate accelerating under his touch.
Jon let her go, reluctantly on his part, and she turned to look at him. God he was just the most beautiful man she had ever seen…and yet there was a stillness to him that she couldn’t explain. A kind of deep sadness that ran through him that no-one could reach. Sometimes his smile just didn’t reach his eyes and it made her sad to see, knowing that she couldn’t help him.
He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace, feeling his warmth envelop her, his scent surrounded her and she felt at peace.
They were outside the house, standing by the covered over swimming pool. It had snowed over night and there was a deep layer covering everything in sight. Pale sunlight glinted through the slight, low lying mist, lending the landscape a golden, fantastical yet slightly surreal look.
Abby turned in Jon’s embrace and sighed with joy at the sight before them.
“You know, it seems like a unicorn is going to come galloping up any minute, and that we could look over at the ocean and see the Lady of the Lake holding up Excalibur.” she said softly as Jon leant forward to rest his head on her shoulder, holding her tightly to him.
“It does, doesn’t it? The way the light reflects off those trees and makes everything golden, I feel that King Arthur himself could appear…any minute.” he murmured.
Abby turned her head to look at him. She looked at the wry smile and narrowed her eyes.
“Are you taking the piss?” she asked, her lips curling up involuntarily.
“No!, Whatever gave you that idea?” he started to say but giggled half way through and totally ruined it.
“Jon? You’re a shit.” she said, smiling.
He laughed and walked back towards the kitchen for a coffee refill. Abby could still hear him laughing as he poured them coffee.
Jon looked at the two cups and laughed some more.
“Unicorn?” he murmured softly to himself, “Excalibur?”; more laughter.
“Abs, you’re nuts you really are.” he whispered, again to himself as he poured two cups of black coffee. A song broke through his consciousness as he carried the cups back outside, glad of his thick windbreaker.
“She wakes up when I sleep, talks to ghosts like in the movies.”
He sang in softly all the way back out to where Abby was perched on a wooden seat, wrapped up in a thick woollen blanket, watching the waves.
“…Wildflower…” he murmured as he handed her a cup.
“Hmm?” she murmured back, quite entranced by the frosty, winter wonderland sight in front of her.
“Nothing.”
Jon took a sip of the scalding liquid and gingerly set the cup down on the bench.
“Abs?”
“Yeah?” she replied, staring out to sea, lost in the haunting beauty.
“I want to take you to meet my parents today.”
Luke sighed as he heard his Captain’s distinctive bellow across the crowded squad room. He wondered, as he pushed his chair away from his desk, what kind of bollocking he was going to get this time. Truth was, he was nowhere with his missing person. He’d had the pizza box he’d found sent to forensics but there were no discernible latent prints, only badly smudged partials that had no matches in AFIS, the automated fingerprint identification system, nor was there enough DNA, from either skin epithelials or body fluids, in order to track a DNA fingerprint through CODIS, the Combined DNA Index System. He was up shit creek and the paddle had said goodbye a long time ago.
He walked over feeling very much like a man going to the gallows.
“You want to see me Captain?” Luke said, feeling nervous and angry. Angry that he was in this situation to begin with. Angry that he’d been taken off a murder just to find some missing woman, who probably wasn’t missing at all and who was probably holed up with a boyfriend somewhere.
“Yeah, get down to the cells, someone’s just been booked for using a stolen credit card...”
“Captain, what the fuck?” Luke snapped.
“…in the name of Jenna Riley. I assume you haven’t found her yet?”
Luke shook his head, slightly abashed.
“Didn’t think so,” the Captain said, tightly, “So get down there. She‘s a junkie and you don’t have much time before she spirals.”
Luke turned to go.
“And Sutton?,”
Luke turned back.
“Don’t fuck this one up.”
Luke’s jaw tightened in anger.
Luke sat opposite the young, skinny girl, dressed in a tight, short skirt and a tight teeshirt that stretched across her small breasts. She was wearing an oversized parka coat with ragged, grubby fur around the hood, torn tights and a pair of fake Ugg boots with multiple stains all over them He had her details in front of him, or, at least, the details she’d given them. Whether they were true or not was up for grabs.
“So, Melissa, It is Melissa isn’t it?, not Jenna by any chance?”
Melissa scowled, making her face ugly. She sat hunched up in the grey plastic chair and chewed on her ragged fingernails. Her fingerprints had already been taken and she screwed her face up as she tasted some left over ink residue.
“You know, if you don’t stop biting your nails you’ll reach your elbows one day.” Luke said softly.
She flashed a look at him and he was taken aback by the sheer amount of hatred in her eyes.
“How old are you Melissa?” he asked.
“18.What the fuck‘s it gotta do with you.” came her sullen reply.
“Let’s try again, how old are you?”
“17.”
“And again?”
“16.”
Luke raised his eyebrows, keeping direct eye contact. Beneath the caked on make up and the arrogance, she was barely a young adult.
“Melissa, we have your fingerprints and if you’re already in the system then you know it’ll only be a matter of time before we know everything about you. If you don’t tell me the truth then I can’t help you and using a stolen credit card is a felony for which you could be jailed. Do you understand? You could be locked up for this? So let’s cut the bullshit shall we and start telling me the truth.” he said harshly, staring at the underfed girl in front of him.
He knew that whatever had led her to the state she was in must have been bad but right now, he didn’t have the time or the inclination to care. He had a missing adult to find and if he had to bulldoze his way through some fucked up teenager then he would. He would feel bad about it when he could afford to.
A film of tears appeared in the girls eyes, making her look even younger.
“I’m 15.” she said, her voice hollow and defeated.
“That’s better. Where did you find the card?” he asked, watching the girl sink lower and lower into her seat.
He lowered his voice and relaxed his stance.
“Melissa, I’m not interested in what you tried to buy with the card or even that you had it. I want to know where you found it. If you co-operate with me I’ll see what I can do about the charges.” Luke said, knowing full well that there was nothing he could do.
Melissa lifted her head to look at him. Her eyes were glassy but held malevolence, her skin mottled and drawn. She had the look of an addict. Luke wondered how long she’d been smoking and whether she was now injecting.
“Bryant Park.” she said in a quiet voice.
“When?”
“Huh?” she said.
“When did you find it?” Luke asked, softly. He knew he had to work fast as she seemed to be losing the plot fast.
“Erm, like two days ago? I was there…to meet some friends,” she said, shifting in her seat, which Luke translated as ‘I was there to score’, “And I saw this red thing sticking out of the dirt, I waited till my friends had gone and then dug it up. It was a wallet.”
Luke sat up straighter. Did this mean she had the wallet on her? No, of course she didn’t, she’d been searched already before she’d been placed in the holding cells, along with having her fingerprints taken.
“What did you do with the wallet.”
“Um…threw it.” her voice was wispy
“Where? Think Melissa, please. Where did you throw it?”
“Hmm?”
“the wallet? Where did you throw it?”
“Oh, the park. I took the credit card and dropped the wallet back into the hole.”
“What hole?” Luke asked, wondering if his luck had run out. He was proved right when she leant forward and vomited all over the grey lino, before collapsing into a shuddering heap.
Thankfully help was on hand and Luke left her in their capable hands.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Abby felt a strong pair of arms encircle her waist.
“Morning beautiful.” Jon whispered, huskily, as he bent to nibble on her neck.
She giggled as she felt his warm lips and tongue sweep the skin under her ear. It was a tender, ticklish spot which he well knew about and she squirmed slightly in his grasp.
“Jon…stop. It hurts.” she gasped, laughing, her heart rate accelerating under his touch.
Jon let her go, reluctantly on his part, and she turned to look at him. God he was just the most beautiful man she had ever seen…and yet there was a stillness to him that she couldn’t explain. A kind of deep sadness that ran through him that no-one could reach. Sometimes his smile just didn’t reach his eyes and it made her sad to see, knowing that she couldn’t help him.
He opened his arms and she walked into his embrace, feeling his warmth envelop her, his scent surrounded her and she felt at peace.
They were outside the house, standing by the covered over swimming pool. It had snowed over night and there was a deep layer covering everything in sight. Pale sunlight glinted through the slight, low lying mist, lending the landscape a golden, fantastical yet slightly surreal look.
Abby turned in Jon’s embrace and sighed with joy at the sight before them.
“You know, it seems like a unicorn is going to come galloping up any minute, and that we could look over at the ocean and see the Lady of the Lake holding up Excalibur.” she said softly as Jon leant forward to rest his head on her shoulder, holding her tightly to him.
“It does, doesn’t it? The way the light reflects off those trees and makes everything golden, I feel that King Arthur himself could appear…any minute.” he murmured.
Abby turned her head to look at him. She looked at the wry smile and narrowed her eyes.
“Are you taking the piss?” she asked, her lips curling up involuntarily.
“No!, Whatever gave you that idea?” he started to say but giggled half way through and totally ruined it.
“Jon? You’re a shit.” she said, smiling.
He laughed and walked back towards the kitchen for a coffee refill. Abby could still hear him laughing as he poured them coffee.
Jon looked at the two cups and laughed some more.
“Unicorn?” he murmured softly to himself, “Excalibur?”; more laughter.
“Abs, you’re nuts you really are.” he whispered, again to himself as he poured two cups of black coffee. A song broke through his consciousness as he carried the cups back outside, glad of his thick windbreaker.
“She wakes up when I sleep, talks to ghosts like in the movies.”
He sang in softly all the way back out to where Abby was perched on a wooden seat, wrapped up in a thick woollen blanket, watching the waves.
“…Wildflower…” he murmured as he handed her a cup.
“Hmm?” she murmured back, quite entranced by the frosty, winter wonderland sight in front of her.
“Nothing.”
Jon took a sip of the scalding liquid and gingerly set the cup down on the bench.
“Abs?”
“Yeah?” she replied, staring out to sea, lost in the haunting beauty.
“I want to take you to meet my parents today.”
Saturday, 9 January 2010
Chapter Fourteen
Abby bolted awake, her heart pounding, ragged breathing and the remnants of the nightmare slowly slipping away behind her tightly shut eyes. She slowly opened her eyes, convinced that the face she’d dreamt about would be in front of her.
Darkness.
She willed her heart to slow down, the blood rushing in her ears to go away.
She could hear Jon softly snoring next to her and began to calm down a little. She breathed heavily, feeling limp and weighty. Her eyes felt heavy and sore; as if she’d been sobbing. Jon shifted in his sleep and she turned her head to look. Her eyes became adjusted to the night and she could just make out a head of tousled hair peeking out of the quilt. He was sprawled on his front, sleepy limbs spread out. Abby smiled. She lay still for a while feeling totally depleted by the nightmare.
‘Come on Abs, it was only a bad dream and it’s gone now. Jon’s here, okay he’s asleep and it’d take a bloody nuclear attack to wake him, but he’s here and you’re safe.’ she thought, laying in a cocoon of warmth under the blanket and quilt.
She breathed in the cool night air wishing that Jon was a light sleeper and not one of the dead when it came to sleeping. Talk about Sleep When I’m Dead, Jon was more like I’ll Sleep Like The Dead. The first morning she’d woken up next to him she’d turned to face him, all sleepy smiles and happiness and had kissed him to wake him. She’d got up, sighing heavily, after he’d grumbled at her, burped, turned over and gone back to sleep for half an hour.
Abby lay, wondering whether it was worth going back to sleep. She looked at the bedside clock and groaned.
2:07am.
Whispers of the nightmare spoke to her as soon as she closed her eyes. She huffed, angrily, as she pushed the warm, heavy quilt off and swung her legs round to sit on the edge of the bed. Yawning madly but too scared to try and sleep she shuffled across the shag pile carpet and, grabbing Jon’s dressing gown off the back, quietly opened the door, letting it shut behind her with a quiet snick.
There was low level lighting inlaid into the skirting boards and she followed the slight illumination along the corridor and down the stairs. The night air was cool but not cold. The heating which was always turned to tropical had only been off a short time. Still, Abby didn’t like the dark and the lights only provided a small amount of illumination. She hurried down the wooden staircase and padded softly to the kitchen. She could see dim lighting spilling out from the area and smiled. It could mean only one thing, which was confirmed as she smelled hot chocolate in the air.
Richie was still up.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen area and smiled at the tall man sitting, his feet propped up on the table.
“Hey Abs, what are you doing up?”
“Couldn‘t sleep.” she replied, as she sat down opposite him, rolling up the sleeves of the dressing gown that was threatening to drown her in material.
“Jon still snoring his head off?” he asked, sipping the sweet chocolate.
Abby smiled, running a hand through her hair, “Yeah, still fast asleep. I think it’d take a nuclear attack to wake him when he’s in a deep sleep.”
“Tell me about it. He was always the last one on the tour bus back in the old days, then he’d put his head down and sleep until we got to the next town.” Richie chuckled as he thought of some of the journeys the band had made.
Richie looked at the young woman in front of him, noticing the dark bags under her eyes and the slightly haunted look.
“Are you sure you’re ok Abs? You look like you haven’t slept for days.
Abby tried to smile but felt as if she might break into tears. Her bottom lip wobbled and a film of tears filled her eyes.
“Hey, Abs, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
Abby looked up at Richie, seeing only kindness and concern there.
“I had a nightmare and the horrible thing is I’m sure I’ve had it before. It seemed so familiar, like I’ve dreamed it more than once.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I was in a room, in the dark, with a little bit of light coming in through the window. It was really cold and there was this face,” Abby balked at the memory of the face, her face scrunched up in horror.
Richie reached out and took her hand in his. He patted her hand soothingly.
“It’s ok darlin’, the nightmare’s gone. The bad man’s gone away.”
Abby looked directly at him, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry,” he chuckled as his own words hit him, “I used to say that when Ava woke from a bad dream.”
Abby smiled kindly. “Thank you, it works.” she began before continuing, “This face is young but so old, that makes no sense I know but…he came towards me and I had nowhere to go. I could smell pine trees and snow and there was music playing far off, and then he was over me, coming closer and closer and closer until I felt his breath on my face…” She swallowed and breathed heavily, “I wanted to scream and shout and kick him off me but I was paralysed. I couldn’t move at all, I was helpless and sure I was about to die and then I closed my eyes and woke up in a sweat.”
Richie thought about it for a while. It sounded like a classic dream of being trapped and also loss of control. Ava’d had a few nightmares over the years and Richie had read a couple of books on dreams so that he could help talk her through them.
“How old where you?”
“Huh?” Abby said. She got up to make them fresh hot chocolates and turned to look at him from the kitchen counter.
“Your age, in the dream. You said it was something you think you’d had before. Maybe you had this dream as a kid. Can you think what age you were?”
“Oh, that makes sense.” she said, slowly.
“Hey, don’t make it sound like I never make sense.” he laughed softly.
She smiled as she poured boiling water onto the chocolate powder. She picked up the can of fresh cream and shook it before squirting a generous swirl on each cup and showering them both liberally with real chocolate shavings.
“Mmm,” Richie murmured appreciatively as he took a sip, “ you sure you don’t wanna give up living here and come work for me?”
Abby scrunched her nose up and shook her head, her eyes smiling. “Na.a. I like it here. Think I might stay for a while.” She smiled for a few seconds before her smile faded.
“I was 16.”
“Huh?”
“In my dream. I was 16.”
“How do you know?” he asked, intrigued as to the specific answer.
“I could hear Europe singing The Final Countdown and that was in 1986 so I must’ve been 16. I know it was in 1986 ‘cause that program Jon was playing air guitar to? Europe where on it and I remember seeing 1986 against them.”
“Did something happen to you in ‘86?” Richie asked softly.
Abby shrugged, “I’ve no idea. Believe me I’ve tried to think why I can only remember up to that year, but nothing. You know sometimes I think I don’t want to know.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, sipping the rich chocolate.
Abby paused to collect her thoughts.
“I keep getting the feeling that something horrible happened and that’s why I can’t remember past ‘86. What if I did something bad?”
“Something bad? Like what?”
“I don’t know!…I mean…Oh I don’t know what I mean. What if I work in a lab killing animals? Or even worse…”
Richie raised both eyebrows and stared at Abby. She wasn’t making much sense.
“I think you need to be telling this to Jon, much as I’m willing to listen, he’s the one you should be talking to.”
“Oh god, Jon. What if he ends up not liking me?” she said in small voice.
Richie sighed. He wondered how he was going to get out of this without telling Abby about Jon. As much as he liked her, a Jovi secret was a Jovi secret.
“Listen darlin’, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”
“But…” she began, panic rising in her voice.
“Do you like who you are now?” he asked her straight.
“Erm, yes?” she replied, unsure of his question.
“Who you were then doesn’t matter, nor does it matter what you did, if you did anything at all. What matters now is who you are right now. I can’t speak for Jon but…, hell Abs, he loves you and I don’t think a few past indiscretions are going to worry him, do you?”
“Did he say that?” she asked, timidly, her eyes wide at the L word.
“Erm…not in so many words… but then actions speak louder, ya know…” he trailed off, unsure if he’d said too much already.
Abby smiled then yawned.
“Off to bed with you, young woman.” he wagged his finger at her, as if admonishing a tired child.
Abby just nodded and went without a word, her head spinning with words already said.
Darkness.
She willed her heart to slow down, the blood rushing in her ears to go away.
She could hear Jon softly snoring next to her and began to calm down a little. She breathed heavily, feeling limp and weighty. Her eyes felt heavy and sore; as if she’d been sobbing. Jon shifted in his sleep and she turned her head to look. Her eyes became adjusted to the night and she could just make out a head of tousled hair peeking out of the quilt. He was sprawled on his front, sleepy limbs spread out. Abby smiled. She lay still for a while feeling totally depleted by the nightmare.
‘Come on Abs, it was only a bad dream and it’s gone now. Jon’s here, okay he’s asleep and it’d take a bloody nuclear attack to wake him, but he’s here and you’re safe.’ she thought, laying in a cocoon of warmth under the blanket and quilt.
She breathed in the cool night air wishing that Jon was a light sleeper and not one of the dead when it came to sleeping. Talk about Sleep When I’m Dead, Jon was more like I’ll Sleep Like The Dead. The first morning she’d woken up next to him she’d turned to face him, all sleepy smiles and happiness and had kissed him to wake him. She’d got up, sighing heavily, after he’d grumbled at her, burped, turned over and gone back to sleep for half an hour.
Abby lay, wondering whether it was worth going back to sleep. She looked at the bedside clock and groaned.
2:07am.
Whispers of the nightmare spoke to her as soon as she closed her eyes. She huffed, angrily, as she pushed the warm, heavy quilt off and swung her legs round to sit on the edge of the bed. Yawning madly but too scared to try and sleep she shuffled across the shag pile carpet and, grabbing Jon’s dressing gown off the back, quietly opened the door, letting it shut behind her with a quiet snick.
There was low level lighting inlaid into the skirting boards and she followed the slight illumination along the corridor and down the stairs. The night air was cool but not cold. The heating which was always turned to tropical had only been off a short time. Still, Abby didn’t like the dark and the lights only provided a small amount of illumination. She hurried down the wooden staircase and padded softly to the kitchen. She could see dim lighting spilling out from the area and smiled. It could mean only one thing, which was confirmed as she smelled hot chocolate in the air.
Richie was still up.
She rounded the corner into the kitchen area and smiled at the tall man sitting, his feet propped up on the table.
“Hey Abs, what are you doing up?”
“Couldn‘t sleep.” she replied, as she sat down opposite him, rolling up the sleeves of the dressing gown that was threatening to drown her in material.
“Jon still snoring his head off?” he asked, sipping the sweet chocolate.
Abby smiled, running a hand through her hair, “Yeah, still fast asleep. I think it’d take a nuclear attack to wake him when he’s in a deep sleep.”
“Tell me about it. He was always the last one on the tour bus back in the old days, then he’d put his head down and sleep until we got to the next town.” Richie chuckled as he thought of some of the journeys the band had made.
Richie looked at the young woman in front of him, noticing the dark bags under her eyes and the slightly haunted look.
“Are you sure you’re ok Abs? You look like you haven’t slept for days.
Abby tried to smile but felt as if she might break into tears. Her bottom lip wobbled and a film of tears filled her eyes.
“Hey, Abs, whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not that bad.”
Abby looked up at Richie, seeing only kindness and concern there.
“I had a nightmare and the horrible thing is I’m sure I’ve had it before. It seemed so familiar, like I’ve dreamed it more than once.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I was in a room, in the dark, with a little bit of light coming in through the window. It was really cold and there was this face,” Abby balked at the memory of the face, her face scrunched up in horror.
Richie reached out and took her hand in his. He patted her hand soothingly.
“It’s ok darlin’, the nightmare’s gone. The bad man’s gone away.”
Abby looked directly at him, eyebrows raised.
“Sorry,” he chuckled as his own words hit him, “I used to say that when Ava woke from a bad dream.”
Abby smiled kindly. “Thank you, it works.” she began before continuing, “This face is young but so old, that makes no sense I know but…he came towards me and I had nowhere to go. I could smell pine trees and snow and there was music playing far off, and then he was over me, coming closer and closer and closer until I felt his breath on my face…” She swallowed and breathed heavily, “I wanted to scream and shout and kick him off me but I was paralysed. I couldn’t move at all, I was helpless and sure I was about to die and then I closed my eyes and woke up in a sweat.”
Richie thought about it for a while. It sounded like a classic dream of being trapped and also loss of control. Ava’d had a few nightmares over the years and Richie had read a couple of books on dreams so that he could help talk her through them.
“How old where you?”
“Huh?” Abby said. She got up to make them fresh hot chocolates and turned to look at him from the kitchen counter.
“Your age, in the dream. You said it was something you think you’d had before. Maybe you had this dream as a kid. Can you think what age you were?”
“Oh, that makes sense.” she said, slowly.
“Hey, don’t make it sound like I never make sense.” he laughed softly.
She smiled as she poured boiling water onto the chocolate powder. She picked up the can of fresh cream and shook it before squirting a generous swirl on each cup and showering them both liberally with real chocolate shavings.
“Mmm,” Richie murmured appreciatively as he took a sip, “ you sure you don’t wanna give up living here and come work for me?”
Abby scrunched her nose up and shook her head, her eyes smiling. “Na.a. I like it here. Think I might stay for a while.” She smiled for a few seconds before her smile faded.
“I was 16.”
“Huh?”
“In my dream. I was 16.”
“How do you know?” he asked, intrigued as to the specific answer.
“I could hear Europe singing The Final Countdown and that was in 1986 so I must’ve been 16. I know it was in 1986 ‘cause that program Jon was playing air guitar to? Europe where on it and I remember seeing 1986 against them.”
“Did something happen to you in ‘86?” Richie asked softly.
Abby shrugged, “I’ve no idea. Believe me I’ve tried to think why I can only remember up to that year, but nothing. You know sometimes I think I don’t want to know.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, sipping the rich chocolate.
Abby paused to collect her thoughts.
“I keep getting the feeling that something horrible happened and that’s why I can’t remember past ‘86. What if I did something bad?”
“Something bad? Like what?”
“I don’t know!…I mean…Oh I don’t know what I mean. What if I work in a lab killing animals? Or even worse…”
Richie raised both eyebrows and stared at Abby. She wasn’t making much sense.
“I think you need to be telling this to Jon, much as I’m willing to listen, he’s the one you should be talking to.”
“Oh god, Jon. What if he ends up not liking me?” she said in small voice.
Richie sighed. He wondered how he was going to get out of this without telling Abby about Jon. As much as he liked her, a Jovi secret was a Jovi secret.
“Listen darlin’, I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.”
“But…” she began, panic rising in her voice.
“Do you like who you are now?” he asked her straight.
“Erm, yes?” she replied, unsure of his question.
“Who you were then doesn’t matter, nor does it matter what you did, if you did anything at all. What matters now is who you are right now. I can’t speak for Jon but…, hell Abs, he loves you and I don’t think a few past indiscretions are going to worry him, do you?”
“Did he say that?” she asked, timidly, her eyes wide at the L word.
“Erm…not in so many words… but then actions speak louder, ya know…” he trailed off, unsure if he’d said too much already.
Abby smiled then yawned.
“Off to bed with you, young woman.” he wagged his finger at her, as if admonishing a tired child.
Abby just nodded and went without a word, her head spinning with words already said.
Monday, 4 January 2010
Chapter Thirteen
Jon looked at the diamond Riviere necklace in his hands. He’d purchased it by auction the previous December at an auction at Rockefeller Plaza. He read the card that sat by itself in the velvet lined box. It was a William Goldberg design consisting of 51 graduated cushion-cut diamonds, mounted in platinum, 16 ins.
He bought it for Dot as a Christmas present but then the accident had happened and he’d never got round to giving it to her. Then she’d filed for divorce and it had sat in its case in one of his bank deposit boxes ever since. The light sparkled off the impressive diamonds, little rays of rainbows danced across his handsome features. If he gave it all up he probably would never be able to afford something like this again. The band, the music, the merchandise; it would all go. The royalties would remain but the money coming in would drop drastically. He thought of Philadelphia Soul, the team he’d once part owned and all the charities he ran. The paperwork was in place to keep the charities going but his name would be removed from the company’s books. Maybe Richie was right. Maybe he should take some more time to think about it all. Trouble was, once he started thinking, her face would flash up in front of him and he would freeze, unable to think of anything other than her. He’d had counselling after the accident and knew, deep down, that it hadn’t been his fault. There’d been nothing he could’ve done to stop it but still he shouldered the guilt. It sat in his stomach, nestled like a cancer.
Jon put the necklace back into its box and put it back into the metal container, ready for it to go back into the hole in the wall. In the New Year he’d put it up for Auction. See if he could recoup some of the money he’d spent on it. He smiled ruefully, he’d not received much change from $550,000. He left the small room without a backwards glance. Time to move on. Time to change.
Abby sipped the coffee and sighed in pleasure. She and Richie had one some serious shopping and had only been to two shops. Saks and Bergdorf Goodmans. She’d put a serious dent in her credit card and was feeling wonderful. Retail therapy really worked. Richie had beaten her only in the amount he’d spent. She wondered what the limit was on his black Amex and then thought it probably didn’t have a limit. Oh how wonderful that would be. To go through life without a limit on how much you could spend. She’d treated herself to a beautiful cushion cut diamond ring and hadn’t even balked at the price of $5,000. She was desperate to wear it, having been fortunate to find one in her size, but Richie had warned her against trying it on in public. She knew she was being a bit silly and naïve but the schoolgirl in her wanted to jump up and shout with glee that she loved Jon Bon Jovi and had just spent loads of money.
Richie looked at Abby, sat across from him. She was positively glowing. Her eyes were bright and her smile was a permanent fixture. A thought hit him and he acted on it.
“Are you in love with Jon?” he asked, softly.
Abby looked at him askance.
“Why would you ask that?” she asked, stalling.
“You look like someone in love.” was his reply.
“I…erm…I think I love him, but I don’t know if I’m in love with him. What does it feel like? Being in love?” she asked, curious.
“Oh, er…” he stammered at having been caught out by his own question, then smiled, “It feels like your heart doesn’t belong to you anymore but to that special someone. Like you’re never going to be whole if they’re not by your side. The cliché I guess; you can’t eat, you can’t sleep, your whole being is focused on them and only them. You think about them constantly and it makes you smile all the time, and when they touch you…you just…melt.” he sighed, staring at a point behind her head, thinking of times past.
“Oh.” Abby said, staring at her coffee before raising her eyes to his face.
“Then I guess I am.” she finished, smiling broadly, before she faltered, “But I don’t know if he feels the same, so don’t say anything, please?” she begged, suddenly on the verge of tears.
“Wildly fluctuating emotions. Check. I’d say you are, and judging by the way I got threatened off you the other night, I’d say he was feeling pretty much the same as you, but I’ll keep schtum. Don’t worry darlin’ I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you Richie. This is all so new to me. I can’t remember ever feeling like this before so I don’t know what to do.”, Abby chuckled suddenly, “God I must be behaving like a teenager.
Richie looked at the suddenly very young looking, vulnerable woman and felt a surge of protectiveness.
“Tell him darlin’, tell him how you feel. I can only guess what you’re thinking but wouldn’t it be nice to have him tell you he feels the same way?”
Abby smiled. “You’re such a nice person Richie. Thank you.”
Richie and Abby walked back into Jon’s house and stopped dead in their tracks. Jon was playing air guitar to some band on the TV, with a bright yellow and black bandanna wrapped round his head. He was head banging and seemed really caught up in the music. His eyes were shut and he had a bright smile plastered across his face. They watched, incredulously on Richie’s part, as Jon ran and, dropping to his knees, slid across the polished wood flooring, eyes still shut tight. The sound was turned up loud and he looked so carefree and happy that neither Richie nor Abby wanted to disturb him. Both, with big smiles on their faces, tried to tip toe into the kitchen area but Abby’s handbag knocked against the coffee table, which had been moved, causing it to scrape on the hard tiled floor.
Jon heard a sound and spun around to see Abby and Richie grinning at him. He felt slightly sheepish.
“Oh, er hi.” he dropped his arms and stood, looking awkward.
“Oh man, I have seen it all now!” Richie hooted with laughter, “Jon Bon Jovi playing air guitar to some one hit wonder band.”
Jon grinned, unabashed as he caught the look in Richie’s eyes and joined in with the laughter.
Abby stood to one side, perplexed and slightly puzzled as the two men broke in peals of hysterics.
She sat down on the heavy coffee table and watched as Jon slid to floor, tears of laughter running down his face. It made her laugh to see him acting like a schoolboy, playing air guitar to his favourite bands. He’d seemed so distant that first day, that seeing him opening up, bit by bit as she got to know him, was just a wonderful feeling that spread inside her and made her heart swell with joy.
Finally the laughter subsided and Richie sat down on the sofa, intent on watching the program which was, funnily enough, about one-hit wonders from the eighties and nineties.
Jon got up off the floor and padded over to Abby.
“Hey babe,” he said, sitting down next to her, “Sorry I wasn’t around this morning but I had some papers to sign.” he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Abby looked into his bright blue eyes. “That’s ok. Just don’t do it again.” she grinned, thinking of the presents she’d bought him. She just knew he’d love them and couldn’t wait for him to open them.
“So, did you have a good time shopping?” he asked softly, his shoulder, brushing gently against hers.
Abby felt a liquid warmth spread through her system. She wondered how to get him upstairs without making it too obvious.
Jon watched her eyes dilate and darken, a rosy flush began to spread across the exposed skin of her chest and neck. He heard the small hitch in her breathing and smiled…slowly and sensually.
He looked over at Richie who was engrossed in the TV program. He turned back to Abby and placing a finger across his lips, silently led her to the stairs.
“Have fun you two.” Richie’s voice rang out from the sofa.
Jon looked into Abby’s flushed face and grinned. He intended to.
Jon led her into his bedroom. She looked around the huge room. It was her first time in it. It was bare, except for a huge king sized bed that dominated the space and a few pictures, placed strategically on the white walls. It was totally the opposite of what she’d thought his room would be like.
Jon took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. Unresisting, she allowed him to lead her to the bed.
Slowly he began to caress her breasts, revelling in the softness of the cashmere sweater and the hardness of her nipples. He reached down and nipped at the tender, sweet skin on her neck, watching heat infuse the area. He slowly licked the same area until it was wet and then blew softly across it, causing goosebumps.
Abby shivered with desire as Jon began to lick and kiss her neck. Oh god it felt so good. She tried to bring her arms up around his neck and winced as her sore ribs protested.
“Hey baby, you ok?” Jon murmured as he softly squeezed her breast, thumbing the nipple through her clothing.
The pain subsided as heat rushed through her. “Mmm hmm.” she murmured as she started to overheat in the cashmere.
“Jon…help me?” she breathed, looking at him.
“With what baby?” he smirked. He’d seen the flush and could feel the heat of her skin. He turned his attention back to laving her skin, slowly working his way down to the gentle swell of her breasts, barely visible in the V neck sweater.
Abby gasped as she felt liquid heat pooling in her underwear. She reached out and began to unbutton his jersey, thankful to all the Gods that had ever existed that he had an affinity for button up jerseys. She felt the soft downy hair that covered his muscular chest and smiled to herself. The smile turned into a gasp as she felt Jon’s tongue lave her nipple. He’d pulled the hidden zip of the sweater down and pushed her bra out of the way, leaving her breasts exposed to the air and to his nimble tongue and fingers.
“Oh god.” she stammered, her head hanging back as he nibbled and licked his way around her sensitive breasts.
Jon groaned as he licked a bead of sweat from between her breasts and breathed in her scent.
“Honey, please? My jeans?” she breathed, trying to wriggle herself out of them in a futile manner.
He broke away from her, causing her to shiver in the cool air.
He smiled wickedly up at her as he took the zip of the jeans into his mouth and slowly pulled the zip down, tooth by tooth, or so it seemed to Abby who was slowly being driven insane by lust.
“Jon,” she began, trying to sound coherent, “If you don’t pull my jeans off and then bury your throbbing cock inside me and fuck me hard then I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Her jeans and underwear hit the floor, as did his. She looked at him in all his splendour and smiled broadly. He was magnificent naked and especially so with a large erection pointing in her direction. She looked at the purpling head with a drop of pre cum nestled in the tip and swallowed heavily. She wanted to taste him.
Abby wriggled down the bed until she was within reach and before Jon could do anything she reached her tongue out and tasted him.
He hissed in pleasure as he felt her wrap her hot, wet tongue around his cock, feeling silver heat shoot straight to his balls. His eyes had darkened to a smoky indigo and he looked down at her through heavy lids.
Abby drew closer to him and took him into her mouth, marvelling at the feel and taste of him. She could smell his clean yet musky masculine scent rising from him and breathed it in deeply. Slowly she moved up and down his shaft, using the flat of her tongue on the underside, feeling the vein harden.
Jon placed a hand on her head and the other on her shoulder. His breathing deepened, as she swirled her tongue all over his cock.
Short, wiry hair tickled her nose as she nibbled and licked her way around his cock, her nose pressed against the cushion of hair at the base.
He smelt as he tasted. Absolutely delicious. Musk with a hint of chocolate and vanilla.
“Baby, baby, Abby…stop, stop, stop. I’m gonna cum…” he moaned, writhing.
He pulled away from her and lay her back on the bed.
“You are so good at that.” he panted, “A bit too good.” he murmured as he looked at her, spread out before him.
Abby lay on her back, feeling the softness of the down comforter underneath her. She felt complete and content and totally wanton. Smiling up at Jon, she bent her legs and opened them.
Jon’s eyes dilated to pure black as he looked at her. His breathing quickened as she slowly reached her hand down, through the soft hair and began to slowly rub her clitoris, all the while keeping eye contact with him.
Damn if that wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d seen for a good while. He licked his lips, feeling the silver heat building up again. His cock was rock hard and he slowly palmed it, pulling the sensitive skin back over the now tender head.
Abby felt the bundle of nerves under her fingers and rubbed it lightly. She moaned low in the back of her throat as electricity swarmed out from her centre. She lay panting softly as she reached out her finger.
Jon’d had enough of watching and leant down to capture her hand.
“No more playing.” he said, his darkened eyes boring into her.
Abby looked him dead in the eye. “Jon? Fuck me.”
Jon had always known words to be erotic; hell he made a living from them, but he’d never had it used on him before.
He moved up the bed and positioned himself between her legs before plunging his cock into her hot, wet depth. Oh god, she felt so good, wrapped around him. He felt her walls pulsating slightly around him. It was so good, he wanted it to last forever.
Abby moaned aloud as he plunged into her, stretching her, filling her completely. He raised himself up onto his hands as he plunged forcefully into her, faster and faster.
“Touch yourself.” he commanded, his lust drenched eyes boring into hers.
Abby reached down and rubbed her clitoris, panting heavily as she did so. Oh god, there it was. That deliciously exquisite hot pain that built up inside her. She rubbed harder, not wanting to lose the intensity.
Jon watched as desire rippled across Abby’s features. He knew she was close and wanted her to cum before he did. He saw her eyes screw shut and reached down to join her hand.
Abby’s eyes flew open in wonder as she felt Jon’s fingers join hers. Together they pressed down hard on the little nub. Her head tipped back, her eyes shut tight as she shouted.
“Jo..o..on!”
Deep, hot pleasure rippled through her body. Her legs shook with the effort and Jon groaned loudly as he felt her internal walls clamp tight and painful around his engorged cock. He pulled out and plunged back in once more before silver heat shot through him, his balls contracted and he screamed through his orgasm.
Jon’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he flopped down next to Abby.
“Oh my fuck. Baby, baby, baby.” he breathed heavily, sweat saturating his skin.
“Ready for round two?” Abby whispered, reaching over to plant a row of kisses along his collar bone.
He bought it for Dot as a Christmas present but then the accident had happened and he’d never got round to giving it to her. Then she’d filed for divorce and it had sat in its case in one of his bank deposit boxes ever since. The light sparkled off the impressive diamonds, little rays of rainbows danced across his handsome features. If he gave it all up he probably would never be able to afford something like this again. The band, the music, the merchandise; it would all go. The royalties would remain but the money coming in would drop drastically. He thought of Philadelphia Soul, the team he’d once part owned and all the charities he ran. The paperwork was in place to keep the charities going but his name would be removed from the company’s books. Maybe Richie was right. Maybe he should take some more time to think about it all. Trouble was, once he started thinking, her face would flash up in front of him and he would freeze, unable to think of anything other than her. He’d had counselling after the accident and knew, deep down, that it hadn’t been his fault. There’d been nothing he could’ve done to stop it but still he shouldered the guilt. It sat in his stomach, nestled like a cancer.
Jon put the necklace back into its box and put it back into the metal container, ready for it to go back into the hole in the wall. In the New Year he’d put it up for Auction. See if he could recoup some of the money he’d spent on it. He smiled ruefully, he’d not received much change from $550,000. He left the small room without a backwards glance. Time to move on. Time to change.
Abby sipped the coffee and sighed in pleasure. She and Richie had one some serious shopping and had only been to two shops. Saks and Bergdorf Goodmans. She’d put a serious dent in her credit card and was feeling wonderful. Retail therapy really worked. Richie had beaten her only in the amount he’d spent. She wondered what the limit was on his black Amex and then thought it probably didn’t have a limit. Oh how wonderful that would be. To go through life without a limit on how much you could spend. She’d treated herself to a beautiful cushion cut diamond ring and hadn’t even balked at the price of $5,000. She was desperate to wear it, having been fortunate to find one in her size, but Richie had warned her against trying it on in public. She knew she was being a bit silly and naïve but the schoolgirl in her wanted to jump up and shout with glee that she loved Jon Bon Jovi and had just spent loads of money.
Richie looked at Abby, sat across from him. She was positively glowing. Her eyes were bright and her smile was a permanent fixture. A thought hit him and he acted on it.
“Are you in love with Jon?” he asked, softly.
Abby looked at him askance.
“Why would you ask that?” she asked, stalling.
“You look like someone in love.” was his reply.
“I…erm…I think I love him, but I don’t know if I’m in love with him. What does it feel like? Being in love?” she asked, curious.
“Oh, er…” he stammered at having been caught out by his own question, then smiled, “It feels like your heart doesn’t belong to you anymore but to that special someone. Like you’re never going to be whole if they’re not by your side. The cliché I guess; you can’t eat, you can’t sleep, your whole being is focused on them and only them. You think about them constantly and it makes you smile all the time, and when they touch you…you just…melt.” he sighed, staring at a point behind her head, thinking of times past.
“Oh.” Abby said, staring at her coffee before raising her eyes to his face.
“Then I guess I am.” she finished, smiling broadly, before she faltered, “But I don’t know if he feels the same, so don’t say anything, please?” she begged, suddenly on the verge of tears.
“Wildly fluctuating emotions. Check. I’d say you are, and judging by the way I got threatened off you the other night, I’d say he was feeling pretty much the same as you, but I’ll keep schtum. Don’t worry darlin’ I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you Richie. This is all so new to me. I can’t remember ever feeling like this before so I don’t know what to do.”, Abby chuckled suddenly, “God I must be behaving like a teenager.
Richie looked at the suddenly very young looking, vulnerable woman and felt a surge of protectiveness.
“Tell him darlin’, tell him how you feel. I can only guess what you’re thinking but wouldn’t it be nice to have him tell you he feels the same way?”
Abby smiled. “You’re such a nice person Richie. Thank you.”
Richie and Abby walked back into Jon’s house and stopped dead in their tracks. Jon was playing air guitar to some band on the TV, with a bright yellow and black bandanna wrapped round his head. He was head banging and seemed really caught up in the music. His eyes were shut and he had a bright smile plastered across his face. They watched, incredulously on Richie’s part, as Jon ran and, dropping to his knees, slid across the polished wood flooring, eyes still shut tight. The sound was turned up loud and he looked so carefree and happy that neither Richie nor Abby wanted to disturb him. Both, with big smiles on their faces, tried to tip toe into the kitchen area but Abby’s handbag knocked against the coffee table, which had been moved, causing it to scrape on the hard tiled floor.
Jon heard a sound and spun around to see Abby and Richie grinning at him. He felt slightly sheepish.
“Oh, er hi.” he dropped his arms and stood, looking awkward.
“Oh man, I have seen it all now!” Richie hooted with laughter, “Jon Bon Jovi playing air guitar to some one hit wonder band.”
Jon grinned, unabashed as he caught the look in Richie’s eyes and joined in with the laughter.
Abby stood to one side, perplexed and slightly puzzled as the two men broke in peals of hysterics.
She sat down on the heavy coffee table and watched as Jon slid to floor, tears of laughter running down his face. It made her laugh to see him acting like a schoolboy, playing air guitar to his favourite bands. He’d seemed so distant that first day, that seeing him opening up, bit by bit as she got to know him, was just a wonderful feeling that spread inside her and made her heart swell with joy.
Finally the laughter subsided and Richie sat down on the sofa, intent on watching the program which was, funnily enough, about one-hit wonders from the eighties and nineties.
Jon got up off the floor and padded over to Abby.
“Hey babe,” he said, sitting down next to her, “Sorry I wasn’t around this morning but I had some papers to sign.” he planted a soft kiss on the top of her head.
Abby looked into his bright blue eyes. “That’s ok. Just don’t do it again.” she grinned, thinking of the presents she’d bought him. She just knew he’d love them and couldn’t wait for him to open them.
“So, did you have a good time shopping?” he asked softly, his shoulder, brushing gently against hers.
Abby felt a liquid warmth spread through her system. She wondered how to get him upstairs without making it too obvious.
Jon watched her eyes dilate and darken, a rosy flush began to spread across the exposed skin of her chest and neck. He heard the small hitch in her breathing and smiled…slowly and sensually.
He looked over at Richie who was engrossed in the TV program. He turned back to Abby and placing a finger across his lips, silently led her to the stairs.
“Have fun you two.” Richie’s voice rang out from the sofa.
Jon looked into Abby’s flushed face and grinned. He intended to.
Jon led her into his bedroom. She looked around the huge room. It was her first time in it. It was bare, except for a huge king sized bed that dominated the space and a few pictures, placed strategically on the white walls. It was totally the opposite of what she’d thought his room would be like.
Jon took her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin against his. Unresisting, she allowed him to lead her to the bed.
Slowly he began to caress her breasts, revelling in the softness of the cashmere sweater and the hardness of her nipples. He reached down and nipped at the tender, sweet skin on her neck, watching heat infuse the area. He slowly licked the same area until it was wet and then blew softly across it, causing goosebumps.
Abby shivered with desire as Jon began to lick and kiss her neck. Oh god it felt so good. She tried to bring her arms up around his neck and winced as her sore ribs protested.
“Hey baby, you ok?” Jon murmured as he softly squeezed her breast, thumbing the nipple through her clothing.
The pain subsided as heat rushed through her. “Mmm hmm.” she murmured as she started to overheat in the cashmere.
“Jon…help me?” she breathed, looking at him.
“With what baby?” he smirked. He’d seen the flush and could feel the heat of her skin. He turned his attention back to laving her skin, slowly working his way down to the gentle swell of her breasts, barely visible in the V neck sweater.
Abby gasped as she felt liquid heat pooling in her underwear. She reached out and began to unbutton his jersey, thankful to all the Gods that had ever existed that he had an affinity for button up jerseys. She felt the soft downy hair that covered his muscular chest and smiled to herself. The smile turned into a gasp as she felt Jon’s tongue lave her nipple. He’d pulled the hidden zip of the sweater down and pushed her bra out of the way, leaving her breasts exposed to the air and to his nimble tongue and fingers.
“Oh god.” she stammered, her head hanging back as he nibbled and licked his way around her sensitive breasts.
Jon groaned as he licked a bead of sweat from between her breasts and breathed in her scent.
“Honey, please? My jeans?” she breathed, trying to wriggle herself out of them in a futile manner.
He broke away from her, causing her to shiver in the cool air.
He smiled wickedly up at her as he took the zip of the jeans into his mouth and slowly pulled the zip down, tooth by tooth, or so it seemed to Abby who was slowly being driven insane by lust.
“Jon,” she began, trying to sound coherent, “If you don’t pull my jeans off and then bury your throbbing cock inside me and fuck me hard then I won’t be responsible for my actions.”
Her jeans and underwear hit the floor, as did his. She looked at him in all his splendour and smiled broadly. He was magnificent naked and especially so with a large erection pointing in her direction. She looked at the purpling head with a drop of pre cum nestled in the tip and swallowed heavily. She wanted to taste him.
Abby wriggled down the bed until she was within reach and before Jon could do anything she reached her tongue out and tasted him.
He hissed in pleasure as he felt her wrap her hot, wet tongue around his cock, feeling silver heat shoot straight to his balls. His eyes had darkened to a smoky indigo and he looked down at her through heavy lids.
Abby drew closer to him and took him into her mouth, marvelling at the feel and taste of him. She could smell his clean yet musky masculine scent rising from him and breathed it in deeply. Slowly she moved up and down his shaft, using the flat of her tongue on the underside, feeling the vein harden.
Jon placed a hand on her head and the other on her shoulder. His breathing deepened, as she swirled her tongue all over his cock.
Short, wiry hair tickled her nose as she nibbled and licked her way around his cock, her nose pressed against the cushion of hair at the base.
He smelt as he tasted. Absolutely delicious. Musk with a hint of chocolate and vanilla.
“Baby, baby, Abby…stop, stop, stop. I’m gonna cum…” he moaned, writhing.
He pulled away from her and lay her back on the bed.
“You are so good at that.” he panted, “A bit too good.” he murmured as he looked at her, spread out before him.
Abby lay on her back, feeling the softness of the down comforter underneath her. She felt complete and content and totally wanton. Smiling up at Jon, she bent her legs and opened them.
Jon’s eyes dilated to pure black as he looked at her. His breathing quickened as she slowly reached her hand down, through the soft hair and began to slowly rub her clitoris, all the while keeping eye contact with him.
Damn if that wasn’t the most erotic thing he’d seen for a good while. He licked his lips, feeling the silver heat building up again. His cock was rock hard and he slowly palmed it, pulling the sensitive skin back over the now tender head.
Abby felt the bundle of nerves under her fingers and rubbed it lightly. She moaned low in the back of her throat as electricity swarmed out from her centre. She lay panting softly as she reached out her finger.
Jon’d had enough of watching and leant down to capture her hand.
“No more playing.” he said, his darkened eyes boring into her.
Abby looked him dead in the eye. “Jon? Fuck me.”
Jon had always known words to be erotic; hell he made a living from them, but he’d never had it used on him before.
He moved up the bed and positioned himself between her legs before plunging his cock into her hot, wet depth. Oh god, she felt so good, wrapped around him. He felt her walls pulsating slightly around him. It was so good, he wanted it to last forever.
Abby moaned aloud as he plunged into her, stretching her, filling her completely. He raised himself up onto his hands as he plunged forcefully into her, faster and faster.
“Touch yourself.” he commanded, his lust drenched eyes boring into hers.
Abby reached down and rubbed her clitoris, panting heavily as she did so. Oh god, there it was. That deliciously exquisite hot pain that built up inside her. She rubbed harder, not wanting to lose the intensity.
Jon watched as desire rippled across Abby’s features. He knew she was close and wanted her to cum before he did. He saw her eyes screw shut and reached down to join her hand.
Abby’s eyes flew open in wonder as she felt Jon’s fingers join hers. Together they pressed down hard on the little nub. Her head tipped back, her eyes shut tight as she shouted.
“Jo..o..on!”
Deep, hot pleasure rippled through her body. Her legs shook with the effort and Jon groaned loudly as he felt her internal walls clamp tight and painful around his engorged cock. He pulled out and plunged back in once more before silver heat shot through him, his balls contracted and he screamed through his orgasm.
Jon’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as he flopped down next to Abby.
“Oh my fuck. Baby, baby, baby.” he breathed heavily, sweat saturating his skin.
“Ready for round two?” Abby whispered, reaching over to plant a row of kisses along his collar bone.
Saturday, 2 January 2010
Chapter Twelve
Richie was not in a very good mood. Jon had flatly refused to change his mind about dissolving the Bon Jovi Alliance and the talk had ended in a stale mate. At one point Richie had got so angry he’d threatened a law suit which hadn’t gone down too well. Both men had gone to their respective beds angry. This wasn’t the first time they’d gone to bed angry with each other for either of them but Richie had felt that it might just be the last time if Jon did what he was threatening to do.
He picked up the envelope he’d found on the kitchen table and reread the letter.
‘Rich,
I know you’re angry with me and think I’ve gone off my head and maybe I have but when you’ve been responsible for the death of someone you love then it puts life into perspective and I don’t wanna be who I am anymore; the person I’ve turned into. Meeting Abby has made me see who I could become.
I have to go out for a couple of hours, I’ve left a credit card in Abby’s name in the envelope for her. Can you take her into Manhattan Xmas shopping? Take care of her Rich.
Jon.’
Richie blamed himself. He had seen Jon every week after the accident and hadn’t seen that Jon was slowly crumbling. Damn him! Damn his ‘keep it all inside’ attitude. Richie slumped down on the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Jon was falling apart inside and there wasn’t a damn fucking thing he could do to stop it. Dorothea hadn’t helped, slapping divorce papers onto what must have been an already fragile psyche just weeks after the accident. He laughed mirthlessly. What a fucking mess and if he was the one left to try and pick up the pieces then they were in a whole lot of trouble.
It wasn’t that Richie wasn’t capable of dealing with problems it was that he chose not to. He just didn’t want to deal with them. That was what Jon did, what Jon was best at. The CEO of the Bon Jovi Corporation while Richie was just a board member who preferred to sit back and jam.
Abby sat in front of the huge mirror and ran a comb through her curls as best she could. Her ribs were still mending and it hurt like hell to raise her arms above her head. She’d woken up alone and still wasn’t sure whether Jon had come to bed at all. She’d been living with him for a few days now and it no longer felt weird. She felt at peace, even if her memory had gone for a Burton.
She stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was glowing and her hair shone with health and vitality. She was surprised as it hadn’t been that long since she’d been in a forced coma. She had on black skinny leg jeans and the palest pink cashmere sweater that should’ve clashed horribly with her red hair but strangely didn’t. She had a pair of black Timberlands on her feet, her one concession to her leg injury, as she’d desperately wanted the 4inch high black strappy stiletto’s that they’d seen whilst shopping for her. She’d begged Jon for them but he’d stood fast and refused to buy them. She’d tried giving him a puppy dog look but he’d countered with his version and she’d had to admit he was far better at pouting than she’d ever be. So, she was stuck with the Timberlands and some flat black pumps until her leg was better. She thought of Jon’s face pouting in the shoe shop and felt a strange kind of fluttering inside. She was still trying to analyse it when she reached the kitchen.
“Hey Abs.”
“Hi Richie. Good Morning, how are you?” she replied, smiling, “Have you seen Jon?”
“He’s gone out.” Richie replied, sipping his fourth coffee. “He’s left some cash for you for Xmas shopping and asked me to take you into Manhattan. If you’re up for it, that is.” he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
“Oh. Yes, that would be lovely.” Abby replied, as she took a seat at the kitchen table after helping herself to a coffee.
“You ok darlin’?” Richie asked.
“Yeah, just…I thought he might say goodbye to me before leaving.”
“Ah, well, you know Jonny. When he’s got something in his head it’s hard to get anything else out of him. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch sometimes.” Richie said, with a bit more anger than he wanted to show.
“Are you two ok? Did you have an argument or something last night? I mean, I know something happened…” she trailed off, not really knowing whether to say she’d heard most of the blazing row the night before, or not.
It must’ve shown on her face and Richie suddenly looked contrite.
“Ah, I hope we didn’t keep you awake. We can get quite heated when we disagree. But it’s nothing darlin’, just something that’s been simmering for a while and should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. We’ll be fine, hell it ain’t the first time we’ve ever argued. And at least we didn’t throw things at each other this time.” he smiled.
“Throw things?” she asked, intrigued by this revealing of another side to Jon.
“Hell, yeah, the first thing Jon ever threw at me was his shittin’ guitar!. We were overwrought, all of us, at the end of the Jersey Tour and had been arguing on and off for days, weeks even. He and Dot were getting really hot and heavy and he’d disappear for hours without anyone able to get in contact with him, which meant we couldn’t practice and then one day he couldn’t speak and I thought he was putting it on a bit so I lost my temper and accused him of pulling a fast one just cause he wanted to spend more time with Dot. Next thing I know this guitar comes whizzing through the air and catches me on the back of the head. I hit the deck, out cold, ya know, and end up in A&E having stitches put in a gash on the back of my head. Turns out Jon had polyps on his vocal chords and really couldn’t speak and had been going off to visit his doctor. He hadn’t said anything as he didn’t wanna scare us all as it was touch and go for a while whether he’d be able to sing again. But he had them removed and everything was ok.”
“Oh my god, did you get a scar?”
“Oh yeah, though it’s faded by now, there’s still a little bit of a bump, just under my hairline at the back.”
“Have you thrown anything at him?” Abby asked. She was really intrigued now at the thought of grown men throwing objects at each other like toddlers in a temper tantrum.
“Er, a mug of coffee, a torch, my mobile, no make that mobiles, and…oh yeah, a cowboy boot. Tico and Dave just used to duck under whatever was there until we’d got it out of our system. Alec would just sit in the corner and shake his head, like we were kids fighting over a toy,” Richie caught a look at the apprehension on Abby’s face, “Oh hey, don’t worry Abs, we haven’t thrown anything for years, only our voices at each other.”
“That’s good to hear,” she got up to go and get her coat and turned back, a wry smile on her face, “A cowboy boot? Really?”
“Yeah, I caught Jon trying to sneak somewhere he shouldn’t have been going so I threw my boot at him. If you look closely he’s got a very small scar in his eyebrow, where it hit him.”
“Where was he trying to sneak into?” She asked, wondering.
“Sorry babe, Jovi Family rules; if you weren’t there you ain’t getting told about it.” he shrugged, palms up.
“Ok, ok. I won’t ask.” she smiled as she went to get her coat.
The drive into Manhattan was fun. Richie was a funny man to talk to and soon had Abby in peals of hysterical laughter at some of the more outrageous exploits that he and Jon had got up to in the Eighties.
The limo driver pulled up outside Saks on Fifth Avenue. Abby had taken a moment to take the card out of the envelope to put into her handbag and had gasped as she read the hand written note attached.
‘Hey babe
This card is for you. I had it put in your name and the limit is $50,000. It’s for you to do whatever with. Don’t feel you have it spend it all at once! J
Jon
Xxx
$50,000? What the hell am I going to spend fifty grand on? She thought as she shut her handbag and followed Richie out of the Limo.
They entered the opulent store and a manager, dressed in an expensive suit, or someone Abby took to be a manager, came running over.
“Mr Sambora, welcome to Saks Fifth Avenue. My name is Christian and I will be your personal shopper, if you have need of me.”
“Thanks Christian, but I think we’re fine at the moment. If I need you I‘ll wink.” Richie said, smiling at the simpering salesman.
Abby looked at the forlorn young man as they walked away from him.
“Is he not a manager?” she asked, trying to keep up with Richie’s long strides.
“Nah, he’s a personal shopper.” He replied, walking on ahead, unaware of her plight.
He headed to the watches section as he wanted to get himself a new one. Not that he needed one, no, he just wanted it.
He turned to talk to Abby to find her not there. He looked behind and spotted her a few shoppers behind him. Feeling guilty for not remembering about her leg, he turned and walked back to her. Taking her arm in his he looked at her, smiling at a man who was right behind her.
“Sorry darlin’ I forgot about your leg. Here hold onto my arm and we’ll take it slow.”
Abby smiled to herself. With that slow drawl of his, nearly everything he said came out as a sexual innuendo, whether he meant it or not. He smiled up at his open, honest and damn right sexy face and smiled… If she wasn’t with Jon… No, she shook her head. Get rid of that image, he’s Jon’s friend, hands off. Besides Jon’s the one you love.
Love.
Her eyes widened slightly as the realisation jackbooted its way into her conscious. She loved Jon. That would explain the fluttery feeling she got whenever she thought of him and the liquid heat he managed to install in her limbs whenever he touched her. With a lightness in her heart she walked slowly with Richie, over to the watches section.
-------------------------------------------
He couldn’t believe it. His Kitty Cat had just got out of a Limo in front of him. She’d looked straight at him and smiled before following a tall, dark haired man into Saks Fifth Avenue. It was a sign. She must still want him to chase her; why would she smile at him if she didn’t? He changed his route there and then and followed the couple into the department store. He walked behind them, his eyes on her only. He watched as she failed to keep up with the man and fell behind him. This was it. This was his big chance. He put on a burst of speed until he was right behind her. He could smell her perfume and one of her curls brushed against his cheek. He reached out to take her arm when the tall man appeared and beat him to it. He began to scowl when he realised the man was looking at him and smiling. He smiled back and melted back into the crowd. Anger and frustration rose in him but he smiled. He’d recognised the tall man as Richie Sambora, which meant that the blond man who’d rescued his Kitty Cat had to be Jon Bon Jovi. If Kitty cat was with Richie Sambora out shopping then it was a high probability she was staying with either him or Jon Bon Jovi. A plan was formulating as he made his way out of the packed store and into the cold, bitter air.
--------------------------------------------
Cartier Roadster XL Chronograph. Abby grinned as she looked at the watch. It was perfect for Jon. The stainless steel strap was masculine yet elegant and she just knew it would be perfect for him. She peeked at the price and her smile froze. $8575. Nearly nine thousand dollars and she bet that was without tax on top.
I guess I will be spending a lot of money today, after all, she thought as she handed over her credit card to the shop assistant who had so lovingly wrapped the watch for her, though Abby was sure that was more for Richie’s benefit as she watched the tall blond woman lean over the counter, lower than was necessary, just in order to show a little more cleavage. Abby took a quick peek at Richie. Yup, he’d seen and was enjoying the show.
Abby coughed, discreetly. Richie broke off from his cleavage show and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow to show she’d seen and he had the grace to look chagrined. At least, a little.
The assistant had finished whatever it was she was doing with the credit card and Abby entered the pin number she’d been given. A few moments later and she was standing holding the most expensive item she’d ever purchased. She was sure of it. Somehow spending all that money on one small item had seemed, for a few moments, incredibly decadent.
She put the card back in her handbag and waited as Richie concluded his purchase, which seemed to include the assistants phone number.
“Richie, you really are incorrigible.” she said, as he linked his arm in hers and led her to the jewellery section.
He picked up the envelope he’d found on the kitchen table and reread the letter.
‘Rich,
I know you’re angry with me and think I’ve gone off my head and maybe I have but when you’ve been responsible for the death of someone you love then it puts life into perspective and I don’t wanna be who I am anymore; the person I’ve turned into. Meeting Abby has made me see who I could become.
I have to go out for a couple of hours, I’ve left a credit card in Abby’s name in the envelope for her. Can you take her into Manhattan Xmas shopping? Take care of her Rich.
Jon.’
Richie blamed himself. He had seen Jon every week after the accident and hadn’t seen that Jon was slowly crumbling. Damn him! Damn his ‘keep it all inside’ attitude. Richie slumped down on the kitchen table, his head in his hands. Jon was falling apart inside and there wasn’t a damn fucking thing he could do to stop it. Dorothea hadn’t helped, slapping divorce papers onto what must have been an already fragile psyche just weeks after the accident. He laughed mirthlessly. What a fucking mess and if he was the one left to try and pick up the pieces then they were in a whole lot of trouble.
It wasn’t that Richie wasn’t capable of dealing with problems it was that he chose not to. He just didn’t want to deal with them. That was what Jon did, what Jon was best at. The CEO of the Bon Jovi Corporation while Richie was just a board member who preferred to sit back and jam.
Abby sat in front of the huge mirror and ran a comb through her curls as best she could. Her ribs were still mending and it hurt like hell to raise her arms above her head. She’d woken up alone and still wasn’t sure whether Jon had come to bed at all. She’d been living with him for a few days now and it no longer felt weird. She felt at peace, even if her memory had gone for a Burton.
She stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Her skin was glowing and her hair shone with health and vitality. She was surprised as it hadn’t been that long since she’d been in a forced coma. She had on black skinny leg jeans and the palest pink cashmere sweater that should’ve clashed horribly with her red hair but strangely didn’t. She had a pair of black Timberlands on her feet, her one concession to her leg injury, as she’d desperately wanted the 4inch high black strappy stiletto’s that they’d seen whilst shopping for her. She’d begged Jon for them but he’d stood fast and refused to buy them. She’d tried giving him a puppy dog look but he’d countered with his version and she’d had to admit he was far better at pouting than she’d ever be. So, she was stuck with the Timberlands and some flat black pumps until her leg was better. She thought of Jon’s face pouting in the shoe shop and felt a strange kind of fluttering inside. She was still trying to analyse it when she reached the kitchen.
“Hey Abs.”
“Hi Richie. Good Morning, how are you?” she replied, smiling, “Have you seen Jon?”
“He’s gone out.” Richie replied, sipping his fourth coffee. “He’s left some cash for you for Xmas shopping and asked me to take you into Manhattan. If you’re up for it, that is.” he said, his brown eyes twinkling.
“Oh. Yes, that would be lovely.” Abby replied, as she took a seat at the kitchen table after helping herself to a coffee.
“You ok darlin’?” Richie asked.
“Yeah, just…I thought he might say goodbye to me before leaving.”
“Ah, well, you know Jonny. When he’s got something in his head it’s hard to get anything else out of him. He’s a stubborn son of a bitch sometimes.” Richie said, with a bit more anger than he wanted to show.
“Are you two ok? Did you have an argument or something last night? I mean, I know something happened…” she trailed off, not really knowing whether to say she’d heard most of the blazing row the night before, or not.
It must’ve shown on her face and Richie suddenly looked contrite.
“Ah, I hope we didn’t keep you awake. We can get quite heated when we disagree. But it’s nothing darlin’, just something that’s been simmering for a while and should’ve been dealt with a long time ago. We’ll be fine, hell it ain’t the first time we’ve ever argued. And at least we didn’t throw things at each other this time.” he smiled.
“Throw things?” she asked, intrigued by this revealing of another side to Jon.
“Hell, yeah, the first thing Jon ever threw at me was his shittin’ guitar!. We were overwrought, all of us, at the end of the Jersey Tour and had been arguing on and off for days, weeks even. He and Dot were getting really hot and heavy and he’d disappear for hours without anyone able to get in contact with him, which meant we couldn’t practice and then one day he couldn’t speak and I thought he was putting it on a bit so I lost my temper and accused him of pulling a fast one just cause he wanted to spend more time with Dot. Next thing I know this guitar comes whizzing through the air and catches me on the back of the head. I hit the deck, out cold, ya know, and end up in A&E having stitches put in a gash on the back of my head. Turns out Jon had polyps on his vocal chords and really couldn’t speak and had been going off to visit his doctor. He hadn’t said anything as he didn’t wanna scare us all as it was touch and go for a while whether he’d be able to sing again. But he had them removed and everything was ok.”
“Oh my god, did you get a scar?”
“Oh yeah, though it’s faded by now, there’s still a little bit of a bump, just under my hairline at the back.”
“Have you thrown anything at him?” Abby asked. She was really intrigued now at the thought of grown men throwing objects at each other like toddlers in a temper tantrum.
“Er, a mug of coffee, a torch, my mobile, no make that mobiles, and…oh yeah, a cowboy boot. Tico and Dave just used to duck under whatever was there until we’d got it out of our system. Alec would just sit in the corner and shake his head, like we were kids fighting over a toy,” Richie caught a look at the apprehension on Abby’s face, “Oh hey, don’t worry Abs, we haven’t thrown anything for years, only our voices at each other.”
“That’s good to hear,” she got up to go and get her coat and turned back, a wry smile on her face, “A cowboy boot? Really?”
“Yeah, I caught Jon trying to sneak somewhere he shouldn’t have been going so I threw my boot at him. If you look closely he’s got a very small scar in his eyebrow, where it hit him.”
“Where was he trying to sneak into?” She asked, wondering.
“Sorry babe, Jovi Family rules; if you weren’t there you ain’t getting told about it.” he shrugged, palms up.
“Ok, ok. I won’t ask.” she smiled as she went to get her coat.
The drive into Manhattan was fun. Richie was a funny man to talk to and soon had Abby in peals of hysterical laughter at some of the more outrageous exploits that he and Jon had got up to in the Eighties.
The limo driver pulled up outside Saks on Fifth Avenue. Abby had taken a moment to take the card out of the envelope to put into her handbag and had gasped as she read the hand written note attached.
‘Hey babe
This card is for you. I had it put in your name and the limit is $50,000. It’s for you to do whatever with. Don’t feel you have it spend it all at once! J
Jon
Xxx
$50,000? What the hell am I going to spend fifty grand on? She thought as she shut her handbag and followed Richie out of the Limo.
They entered the opulent store and a manager, dressed in an expensive suit, or someone Abby took to be a manager, came running over.
“Mr Sambora, welcome to Saks Fifth Avenue. My name is Christian and I will be your personal shopper, if you have need of me.”
“Thanks Christian, but I think we’re fine at the moment. If I need you I‘ll wink.” Richie said, smiling at the simpering salesman.
Abby looked at the forlorn young man as they walked away from him.
“Is he not a manager?” she asked, trying to keep up with Richie’s long strides.
“Nah, he’s a personal shopper.” He replied, walking on ahead, unaware of her plight.
He headed to the watches section as he wanted to get himself a new one. Not that he needed one, no, he just wanted it.
He turned to talk to Abby to find her not there. He looked behind and spotted her a few shoppers behind him. Feeling guilty for not remembering about her leg, he turned and walked back to her. Taking her arm in his he looked at her, smiling at a man who was right behind her.
“Sorry darlin’ I forgot about your leg. Here hold onto my arm and we’ll take it slow.”
Abby smiled to herself. With that slow drawl of his, nearly everything he said came out as a sexual innuendo, whether he meant it or not. He smiled up at his open, honest and damn right sexy face and smiled… If she wasn’t with Jon… No, she shook her head. Get rid of that image, he’s Jon’s friend, hands off. Besides Jon’s the one you love.
Love.
Her eyes widened slightly as the realisation jackbooted its way into her conscious. She loved Jon. That would explain the fluttery feeling she got whenever she thought of him and the liquid heat he managed to install in her limbs whenever he touched her. With a lightness in her heart she walked slowly with Richie, over to the watches section.
-------------------------------------------
He couldn’t believe it. His Kitty Cat had just got out of a Limo in front of him. She’d looked straight at him and smiled before following a tall, dark haired man into Saks Fifth Avenue. It was a sign. She must still want him to chase her; why would she smile at him if she didn’t? He changed his route there and then and followed the couple into the department store. He walked behind them, his eyes on her only. He watched as she failed to keep up with the man and fell behind him. This was it. This was his big chance. He put on a burst of speed until he was right behind her. He could smell her perfume and one of her curls brushed against his cheek. He reached out to take her arm when the tall man appeared and beat him to it. He began to scowl when he realised the man was looking at him and smiling. He smiled back and melted back into the crowd. Anger and frustration rose in him but he smiled. He’d recognised the tall man as Richie Sambora, which meant that the blond man who’d rescued his Kitty Cat had to be Jon Bon Jovi. If Kitty cat was with Richie Sambora out shopping then it was a high probability she was staying with either him or Jon Bon Jovi. A plan was formulating as he made his way out of the packed store and into the cold, bitter air.
--------------------------------------------
Cartier Roadster XL Chronograph. Abby grinned as she looked at the watch. It was perfect for Jon. The stainless steel strap was masculine yet elegant and she just knew it would be perfect for him. She peeked at the price and her smile froze. $8575. Nearly nine thousand dollars and she bet that was without tax on top.
I guess I will be spending a lot of money today, after all, she thought as she handed over her credit card to the shop assistant who had so lovingly wrapped the watch for her, though Abby was sure that was more for Richie’s benefit as she watched the tall blond woman lean over the counter, lower than was necessary, just in order to show a little more cleavage. Abby took a quick peek at Richie. Yup, he’d seen and was enjoying the show.
Abby coughed, discreetly. Richie broke off from his cleavage show and looked at her. She raised an eyebrow to show she’d seen and he had the grace to look chagrined. At least, a little.
The assistant had finished whatever it was she was doing with the credit card and Abby entered the pin number she’d been given. A few moments later and she was standing holding the most expensive item she’d ever purchased. She was sure of it. Somehow spending all that money on one small item had seemed, for a few moments, incredibly decadent.
She put the card back in her handbag and waited as Richie concluded his purchase, which seemed to include the assistants phone number.
“Richie, you really are incorrigible.” she said, as he linked his arm in hers and led her to the jewellery section.
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