Page 42 of Still Her

He shakes his head and offers me a defeated shrug. “But she could possibly be rewarded for being brave by putting an end to this mother fucker. What would she get from buying out and cowering for the rest of your lives?”

I run a hand through my hair and close my eyes. “Morris…” that last remark tested my hospitality. It was invasive and it crossed the line, but I think what bothers me most, is the merit lying deep within it.

“You don’t have to say anymore, Jack. I’ve imposed more than enough, I know.” Morris gets to his feet and grabs his coat off the hook by the door. I stand and walk over to see him out, my hands on my hips, still trying to exude some kind of control. With the door just part way open, he casts me one last glance. “No one wants to do it this way Jack. But unlike the other way, if we’re successful, when it’s over… it’s truly over.” With that he saunters out the front door, closing it gently behind him.

* * *

MAYZIE

I come in from the garage door that leads into the kitchen, and the dogs come frolicking over to me, smelling the bags of Chinese take-out that I’m carting in. I set them on the kitchen counter and let them out the back slider. It was an interesting time with Annie, hearing about what it’s like to be running your own photography business while expecting a bar managers love child. Seems life’s a clusterfuck all around right now. I didn’t tell her anything about Douche-gate. She’s got enough going on right now without worrying about me. I promise myself I’ll tell her the whole story when it’s all over. Whenever that may be.

“Jack?” I call out, as I unwind my scarf and unzip my coat. My call is met with silence as I make my way over to the hook by the front door, shedding my coat and hanging it up. I glance over into the living room that is completely darkened, save for the orange glow coming from the fireplace. I can’t wait to spend an entire winter at home, just to enjoy little things like that.

I can just barely make out Jack’s form lying on the couch. He’s on his back with one arm across his chest, and the other draped over his eyes. My shoulders drop at the sight of him. Tour life is exhausting; especially once you stop moving and take a beat to let it all catch up to you. I walk over to the couch and gently sit down next to him. The cushions dipping with my weight gently stir him and I lay a hand over his, gently sweeping my thumb back and forth. He pulls his arm farther up on his head, revealing sleepy, heavily lidded eyes.

“Always such a beautiful sight to wake up to,” he rasps.

“Charmer,” I smirk down at him. “I brought dinner.”

“I had a lovely visit from the good detective,” he tells me, sarcastically.

My smile slips slightly. “Yeah? What did he want?” I ask, after Jack nods.

“What do you think he wanted?” he replies, as he turns on his side. I give a somber nod in response. “Come here,” he reaches for me and pulls me down to lay with him. There’s plenty of room for me to lay down facing him because of the, ahem, double-wide.

“He was pushing for us to take the dipshit down?” I ask quietly.

“Yeah.” He’s quiet for a few moments, as if gathering his thoughts and psyching himself up. He takes a breath. “And I’ll be honest, a very big part of me wants to just throw everything we have at him so he’ll leave us alone, so that you don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

I nod, knowing where he’s coming from with this. “And what do other parts of you think?”

He shakes his head, sighing deeply. “The other parts of me know how that would hurt you in the long run, knowing what we sacrificed that we shouldn’t have had to. How it would hang over you. I don’t want that for you either.”

“I know,” I assure him, quietly.

“Baby… what do you want to do?” His voice is heavy, like it kills him to be turning this over to me, but he knows that something has to give.

I take a moment to respond to him, because as has been the case through this whole thing, I really, seriously, do not know what the hell I want to do. I don’t want to do any of it. But that’s not going to work here, so I find a way to put my thoughts into words.

“I don’t know what I want to do. I only know what Idon’twant to do. I don’t want to buy our way out of the contract. I don’t want to give him everything we have and watch for him over our shoulders for God only knows how long. It would be like rewarding him. I want him to be stopped. I want him to pay for what he’s done to other people. I also…” I swallow, “don’t want to face him. And I don’t think I can without you.”

He caresses my cheek with the back of his knuckles, and I try to tell him with my eyes that I mean what I say, that I’m not patronizing him, or trying to just make him feel needed, or give him any vindication. I’m saying it because I truly need him. He gives me strength. He makes me brave. And with him near, I know I’m safe.

“Then you won’t do it without me,” he says firmly, and even in the darkness, I can see the solemnness in his eyes before he’s pulling me close so that my forehead rests against his. “You’re sure?”

No. But I nod. “Yeah, I guess this is one of those times where when you can’t do the ideal thing, you do the right thing, huh?” He closes his eyes and gives a humorless chuckle. “What about you? Are you sure?” I ask.

“Fuck no,” he shakes his head. “So I guess I’ll just be running on faith.”

I nod. “We both can.”

Without another word, Jack sits up and pulls me with him, keeping my body flush against his and crushes his mouth against mine, eliciting a whimper from between my lips. His hands come up my sides, pushing my shirt up, and he breaks our kiss only long enough to yank it off of me.

He starts kissing up my shoulder, gently at first, and then with hunger. His fingers grip my skin and a warm glow settles over our atmosphere.

Not long after, he is pressing me into the couch, maneuvering himself to kneel over me. His warm lips travel over the skin of my back and my lower jaw drops in a gasp when I feel his hardness against my ass. I moan my encouragement as he sweeps my hair off the back of my neck, making sure his mouth doesn’t miss the sensitive skin there.

His mouth and his movements have me in ecstasy long before he puts an arm around my waist to pull my hips up slightly, making them flush with his so that he can push himself inside me, connecting us. From there, our bodies find an urgent rhythm, moving together.

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