Chapter Thirty-One
Jade awoke and immediately wondered if a blind person had given her a haircut with a dull axe. Opening her eyes, she winced as the bright morning light flooded her room. Something heavy was crushing her ribs.
“What did we do last night?” she groaned, giving Jeremy’s arm a shove. “You’re crushing me.” She nudged him again
His unbuttoned shirt only covered one arm and his pants were gone. Such a cute ass. Giving him a strong shove, he flopped to his back.
In the distance, Zeppelin was playing. That meant she’d played through almost all of her tunes.
Wiping her eyes, she eased into a seated position. Squinting at her clock there was a half eaten plate of—bacon?—yes, bacon, sitting on her nightstand.
Oh, God. The ‘secret’ drawer of her vanity, where she kept her toys, was open and a varied array of items hung over the edge. Her leg brushed something cold and solid. Lifting the blanket, she bit her lip, one empty bottle of tequila and one—definitely used—bottle of lube.
Well, mission accomplished.
Stumbling to her feet she hissed and bent to pick up whatever she’d stepped on. It was a tiny house from the Monopoly game and several more littered her floor.
Jeremy let out an unattractive snore and she raised an eyebrow. Tiptoeing through the minefield of plastic game pieces, she shuffled to the bathroom. Memories from the night before pieced back together in scattered disarray. But they were there. She made a choice and had control of her actions enough to recall at least the basics of the evening.
A long shower restored a bit of her equilibrium and she found herself smiling as she remembered some of the stupid shit they’d done last night. They were wrecked.
When she entered her room Jeremy was lying with his arm draped over his eyes. “Why’s it so bright in here?”
“I feel your pain. I was going to make some toast. You want some?”
“Shh.” He moaned. “I need coffee. Lots and lots of coffee.”
Jade paused. Mayday. “Umm, I think I’m out of coffee.”
He released the most pathetic man-cry. “Whyyyy?”
Slipping into her pants, she slid onto the bed and kissed his belly. “How about I make breakfast and you get dressed and pick up coffee?”
His hand lazily dragged down her hair. “Tell me you at least have aspirin.”
She smiled. “Aspirin I can provide. Go get showered. You smell like the day after spring break in Punta Cana.”
Jeremy dressed and headed out the door for coffee. The alarm shrilled and he cursed as the noise stabbed into his skull harder than an icepick. Blinding white light pierced his corneas and he flinched, squinting at the drifts of heavy white snow that weren’t there yesterday. Before he had time to process that they’d gotten the blizzard forecasted, his eardrums were shattered by an exhilarated scream from the sidewalk.
“Daddy!”
Looking past the mountain of snow that was his car, Mia, rosy-cheeked and dressed like a Christmas card, trudged toward him. Her pink hat and snow pants popped against the white hills with each trudging step.
“Did you come over to play in the snow?”
“I, uh, came over to dig out Jade’s car,” he fibbed.
Mia frowned at the two snow covered mountains in the driveway. “Your car’s all snowy too?”
“I got a ride,” he lied again.
Thankfully, Tyson shoveled himself within earshot and tossed him a life vest. “Mia, why don’t you see if Mommy’s out of the shower? Ask her if she wants me to make breakfast and tell her to look and see if we have the ingredients for hot cocoa.”
“Hot cocoa!” Mia yelled and quickly turned, bounding toward her house.
“Long night?” Tyson asked and Jeremy shook his head.
“Do you guys have some coffee we can steal?”
Tyson laughed. “Already brewed, and you’re welcome to take some. You two want to come over for breakfast? You look like you could use something solid in your stomach.”
“You have no idea,” Jeremy said, glad he didn’t have to shovel out his Jeep in his condition.
Jade helped Kat finish up some Christmas shopping online, while the guys watched the hockey game in the living room and kept Mia occupied. Her headache had morphed from the hatchet scenario into a dull throb.
Shopping always cheered her up. Although the mall was preferable, the blizzard limited them to Internet spending. While Kat worked on Ty’s computer, piecing together Mia’s Christmas list, Jade used her iPad for some of her own holiday shopping. So far she’d purchased a shirt for Jeremy and a dress and some new earrings for herself, and a cute kitchen sign for her cottage.
Every few minutes the guys yelled at the television in the other room. Jade laughed. “I guess Jeremy’s head’s feeling better.”
“What did you guys do last night?” Kat scrolled down a list of toys. “And where the heck is this doll she wants?”
“I’m not sure there’s anything we didn’t do, but it’s just a blur of fun in my mind, so I’m okay with not recalling every detail.” This was definitely different than waking up and recalling nothing at all. “What can I get Mia this year?”
“You want to get her this doll that doesn’t exist?”
“No.”
Kat groaned and shoved the mouse away as she eased back on the chair. “I need a break. Should we order Chinese for dinner?”
“Sure.”
“I’ll go tell Ty to call.” She left the room and Jade snatched Mia’s list off the desk.
Before she moved on to the rug rat’s gifts, she checked her email to make sure her last order processed. As she skimmed through her inbox, one message, in particular, caught her eye. The email address of the sender wasn’t one she recognized, but in the subject line were two words that made her blood run cold. The 4.
“What the hell?” She scowled and clicked the message.
J.,
I believe I can help you, but I’ll do so only if our communication is kept completely confidential. I don’t want any trouble from your friends. If you’re interested in what I have to tell you, email me at this address. If I have somehow tracked down the wrong email address and this is not J., please disregard this message.
Sincerely,
N.L.
Sitting back, she exhaled. N.L. had to be that guy Nathan. What was his last name? Lake? Leithe? How had he gotten her email address? And why would he suddenly want to speak to her? Was this a trick? Only one way to find out…
N.L.,
How did you find my email address? What information do you have?
-J.
As she contemplated hitting the delete key and tossing the entire message into her spam folder, Kat walked in and asked her if she wanted chicken or shrimp with her rice. Startled, Jade meant to minimize the screen but accidentally clicked send.
Turning, she hid her dismay and said, “Chicken.”
Jade was convinced she’d lost her mind. She didn’t receive a response to her first reply until late Sunday evening. At first, their correspondence was brief.
J.,
Please verify that it is, in fact, you. We share a mutual acquaintance. Who is she?
-N.
Jade wrote back.
K.D. now K.A.
His reply only took a few minutes.
J.,
Do I have your word that what passes between us will be kept in the strictest confidence? The information I have is no doubt something you’ll find useful, but I’m reluctant to share it unless I have your word that you agree to my terms. No one can ever know we spoke. Is that acceptable?
-N.
Guaranteeing him complete anonymity left her at risk. After much deliberation and a pretty solid plan to protect herself, she finally wrote back.
N.,
You have my word. However, in the event that anything should happen to me, I’ve made arrangements to expose you. If I’m unharmed, the evidence of our communication will be destroyed before anyone sees it. I am doing this to secure my safety and feel it’s a fair stipulation to our agreement. Let me know if you can abide by these conditions.
-J.
Nathan took longer than usual to respond to that email.
Agreed. Meet me this Wednesday, 12:00pm, at the coffee house outside of New Castle on the corner of Barkley and Clearwater.
She corresponded with Nathan for five days before finally agreed to meet him. She was taking a huge risk, meeting him without letting anyone know where she was going or what she was up to, but his conditions were unchanging. And her need to know what he knew was keeping her up at night. Her gut told her to meet him, something inside of her saying he wasn’t her guy, but he might have the key to finding the bastard she was after.
Presently, sitting in said coffee shop, she sipped her skinny half-caf with shaky hands. She’d been waiting for over an hour, an absolute nervous wreck.
Before she left, she’d written a note on the stationary Kat gave her a while back. In her recognizable handwriting, she penned,
With Nathan Lithe. Call police if you do not hear from me by the time you read this.
After slipping the note into Mia’s backpack, which Kat emptied every night around dinnertime, she felt a little more secure in her choice to meet Nathan alone. When she made it back unscathed, she’d simply sneak over to her friend’s house and remove the note. If she didn’t…
Well, she had visions of swat teams swarming Nathan’s home, wherever that might be.
The door to the coffee house opened and her spine stiffened. Without a doubt, Nathan gave off a sinister impression. His beady eyes and well-kept beard and thin mustache did little to hide his lack of scruples—at least that was the impression she got.
Scanning the area, he smirked. Was his smile creepy because of everything she heard about him or was it creepy because he was a rapist and possibly a serial killer?
Please don’t let this be the part where I get crammed into a trunk and dragged off to some dilapidated cabin in the woods. Remember what Oprah said. Do not let them get you to the next location!
His gaze found hers and he slowly pulled out the adjacent chair. “Hello, Jade.”
She should leave. She should stand up and leave. Just get the fuck out of there. This was a bad idea.
Lowering himself into the chair, he flipped over a small menu and pushed it aside. “Were you waiting long?”
She swallowed. “No,” she lied in a barely audible voice.
“Can I get you another coffee?”
Eyeing her drink, inspecting every last froth of foam, she pushed it aside. “I’m not thirsty.” Even breathing the same air as her possible assailant terrified her.
He sighed and folded his hands in his lap, perhaps a purposely passive move on his part. “I didn’t come here to harm you.”
She scoffed, finding his words anything but comforting.
He fidgeted, his gaze skittering to the glass window and back to her. He flattened his palms on the table. “You don’t believe me.”
His nails were tidy—the kind that told of little manual labor. “Not even a little.”
“But you’re here.” He looked at the surface of the table as if unable to look her in the eye. “I can’t say I blame you. Certain incidents make it difficult to trust others.” His gaze finally found hers. “I should know.”
Blood running cold, she gripped her purse at her side. If she left, would he follow her?
“May I see your scar?”
Her thoughts jolted as a terrifying sort of paralysis took hold. Everything inside of her stilled except the bile rising in her throat and her heart beating out of control. “Excuse me?”
“May I see your scar?” He repeated.
This was insane. “Yeah, you know what? This was a mistake. I have to go.” She lifted her bag.
He grabbed her hand across the table and she froze. She didn’t know whether to scream or hit him.
“Get your fucking hand off of me before I scream. I could have the cops here in seconds.”
“Please,” he beseeched, loosening his hold.
She snatched her hand out of his grip. This was a no touch zone.
Lowering his voice, he whispered, “Jade, I want to help you, but I can get into a lot of trouble for what I’m about to tell you. These aren’t people you fuck with.”
He knew who they were. They? Wavering, she scanned the café. Plenty of witnesses and this time she was sitting in the view of a very obvious surveillance camera.
Relaxing by small degrees, she slowly lowered to her seat. “You don’t touch me. Ever.”
“My apologies. It won’t happen again.”
She nodded, keeping her hands on her lap, her chair now drawn back from the table. “How is it that you know about… About what happened to me? Did you—”
“No. I swear it.”
“Don’t be offended if I don’t take your word at face value, Mr. Lithe.” She wanted to make sure that was his last name so she used it to see if he’d correct her.
“Understandable. But still, if you want me to lay my neck on the line, you’re going to have to show me your scar. The day I saw you in New Castle was chaotic and I want to be certain it’s what I think it is before I explain what I believe will help you a great deal.”
She needed to know what information he was hiding. “Fine. But we’re going to do this quid pro quo. And if you go Hannibal Lector on me I swear to God...” She’d what? She thought of Jeremy and is enormous tree of a friend, Trenton Cole. Ty was a big guy too. “I know people. Scary people.”
He nodded. “I don’t want any trouble.”
She took a deep breath and yanked the collar of her sweater aside, turning her head, exposing her branded shoulder. “Satisfied?”
“Yes.”
She readjusted her collar and crossed her arms over her chest, sending him an impatient look. “Your turn.”
He, too, took a deep breath. “Do you speak Latin, Jade?”
She shook her head.
“No? Okay. Well, there’s a group. No one knows who they are or when the group originated. It’s a society of sorts, a brotherhood. From what I understand you can’t request entry or be grandfathered in. Every member’s hand-selected.
“I have no idea how one’s nominated, only that I was selected. I don’t know what qualifications I had that got their attention. I mean, I went to an Ivy League school, belonged to a fraternity, played some sports, but I was never told such a club existed. It wasn’t until I was up for review at my firm and being considered for partner that I was notified about my eligibility.”
“Who contacted you?” She was intrigued in spite of herself.
“It’s not that simple. I was in my office, just a random afternoon when my secretary brought me the mail. She usually opens the mail and shreds the envelopes. There’s a lot of confidentiality in the law business, so we don’t like paper lying around.”
She arched a brow. “Of course not.”
“I found something that, at first, I thought was a social invitation. It was in a heavy, pristine white envelope, the kind you find inside a wedding invitation. On the lip of the envelope was a wax seal. It was embossed with a stylized number four.”
Okay, now he really had her attention.
“When I opened the message, I realized it was an invitation, but not to an event. It was an invitation to join an exclusive group of professional men. They made it seem like an honor, to be accepted into this society. The letter explained that the group admitted only five members a year. It guaranteed entry into certain circles and seemed an appropriate invitation at that point in my career, but a little too good to be true. I researched it on the Internet, but I found nothing. They weren’t asking for a donation or anything along those lines, just proof of my loyalty.”
“Proof?”
She highly doubted something revolving around social prestige connected to her assault. Disappointment seeped in as her small flicker of hope faded, telling her this meeting was nothing more than coincidental symbols between her scar and a freaking stamp on a seal.
“Yes, proof. The order was called Postestas Adimpleo Postestas Quattuor, which is Latin for the Authority to Perform the Power of Four.”
Thoroughly unimpressed, she humored him. “The power of four? What is this, like a math thing?” This was a total waste of time.
“Sort of. The number four has a lot of symbolism. It signifies completion, stability, and predictability. It also represents all earthly things. The logic of the number four flows from the previous three numbers. One represents the male principle. It’s raw energy and creativity.”
She rolled her eyes, but he continued, ignoring her.
“In the creative process, it’s the initial flicker of an idea, a scheme, perhaps, to form a secret society. Two is the feminine principle, the yin to one’s yang. It’s the gestational period in which ideas take shape, the earth into which the seed is sewn and impulses grow. Three is the synthesis of one and two. It’s the ideation and articulacy of one’s plan, the foundation itself, the finished idea. To put an idea to paper, it shows intention. An idea becomes a commitment and is somehow irrevocably made real.”
It all seemed too calculated and rote. Too practiced. Yet, now she was listening intently, curious to know the meaning of four.
He looked her directly in the eyes. “Four is the material manifestation of three, the physical fulfillment, the tangible achievement of the idea. It’s what happened to you, Jade. You were selected, studied, and conquered with such comprehensive preparation you never suspected a thing.”
Holy fuck. Her skin pulled as her blood turned to ice. Her throat tightened, but she couldn’t swallow back the lump of dread choking her.
What happened to her had been spontaneous—that’s what she’d told herself from the beginning. Her mind didn’t allow space for other possibilities. There was no deliberate, coherent plan. It had been nothing more than impulsivity.
She gripped the table and shut her eyes, trying to level out her breathing. Her skin tingled as though a thousand voyeurs watched her, their gazes crawling over her like spiders, each one with multiple eyes. She closed her arms over her chest, shrinking into herself. If what he said was true, there wasn’t a single sacred place left for her to hide. She’d been fucking stalked, chosen for some fucked up ritual. And… My God, they ruined me.
Nathan weighed her reaction. “Shall I go on?”
She nodded, unsure if she could hear much more.
“Four represents mastery. It’s a self-righteous and narcissistic belief when applied the way it is to Postestas Adimpleo Postestas Quattuor. It’s the freedom of life, to do as one pleases as if by the will of God. It’s absolute power. Then there is the Negative meaning.”
“You don’t consider everything you just said negative?” Jade asked incredulously.
“I’m speaking numerically. Of course, I find this entire notion despicable and vile. I know you don’t think much of me, but I’ll tell you how contemptible I find it in a moment. First, I want to make sure you comprehend how intricate that simple symbol on your shoulder is. The meaning of a negative four is stagnation, fossilization, paralysis, rigidity, or stubbornness. Were you awake?”
“No,” she quickly answered. “I was drugged.”
“So you can understand how the negative is relevant then.”
“I don’t understand any of this.” Her voice cracked and she fidgeted to avoid making a scene. She fought the urge to scream, to clear the table of its contents with a swing of her arm, anything to change this reality.
“There’s one more factor. That tiny slash above the four on your shoulder changes its meaning from that of a number to a character that can be traced back to ancient times, a character that defines the ultimate violation of a female.”
His brow creased and something shifted in his eyes. Regret? He glanced at the table and Jade lost her patience. “Look at me and tell me what it means.”
His jaw ticked as he swallowed. “It’s the ancient character for rape.”
This time it was her who had to look away.
They sat in silence for a long while, neither able to make eye contact. That was it in a nutshell.
Some old boys formed a club, recruited a bunch of men who had God complexes, then they formed an idea, a way to demonstrate the ultimate show of power and authority in their minds. Each member selected a victim, studied her, learned her, and brought their plan to fruition when they finally attacked her.
She reached for her cup but saw how badly she was shaking and curled her fists in her lap instead. She wanted to rail at every despicable man who ever contemplated taking what they wanted without asking.
Her vision narrowed as she lifted her gaze and glared at him, seething. Voice low, a volatile mess of emotion swirling inside of her, she prepared to attack, quite certain she could seriously murder someone in that moment. “Are you a member?”
Backing up as much as his chair allowed, he rapidly shook his head. “No. I swear. I was telling you the truth. I have nothing to do with them. I—”
“Then why were you invited to join them?” she snapped. “How do you know all of this?”
Self-consciously scanning the café, he leaned in and whispered, “I don’t know why I was invited to join. They only told me only the basics in the first letter, nothing about what was expected. I filled out a form that added up to a resume of sorts and sent it back in the enclosed self-addressed envelope provided. There was no mention of anything besides prestige in the first message.”
“Where did you mail it?”
“It went to a P.O. Box in Upstate New York and, like I said, my secretary had already shredded the outer envelope of the original message.”
“Original? So there were more.”
He nodded. “About a month after that, I received another letter. I told my secretary I no longer wanted her to shred the envelopes until I saw them, but the outer envelope had no return address and came as certified mail, sender undisclosed. That letter told me I had to reach step four to ensure my membership, but they didn’t say what that entailed. I was instructed to identify a desirable female. I didn’t know why. I thought they were asking me to pick someone I thought would make a suitable wife, just to see what kind of choice I’d make, but I’m a divorce lawyer. I wouldn’t get married if my life depended on it.”
“So you didn’t pick someone?”
“Not a real person. I lost interest in joining the group, but my curiosity was piqued. I couldn’t find even the thinnest evidence to prove the society existed and that intrigued me even more. The letters were coming from somewhere. So I sent back my reply with a made up name. I had to give a description of what she did, where she lived, whom she was associated with, and how well I knew her. I made it all up.”
“Did they respond?”
“About a month after that, I received another letter. This one had a package with it. That’s when I was given a seal. I guess even organizations dating back however long as this one does, still modernize. It was just a sticker. It all suddenly seemed silly and juvenile. I was told to place it on the woman’s home or car. But there was no woman, so I put the seal on my own car. I was curious and didn’t realize the final outcome of the test.”
She drew back, her blood running cold as her muscles tensed as chills rushed from her ankles to her shoulders. “Son of a bitch.” Her entire face numb. “Someone put one on my car last year.”
He rushed on as if he wanted to leave as much as he wanted to finish his confession. “A month after I received the seal, another letter arrived. I was to wait anywhere between six and eighteen months. Time, I was told, to learn her routines, her quirks. I was to make no move until I became a master. Once I was ready, I should then send them back another envelope telling them I studied the woman and was prepared to complete stage four without the chance of error.
“I still considered this all some hokey way to measure a man’s respectability, as if all of this was for the purpose of finding a suitable wife, someone to accompany me during social gatherings and such. By no means did I consider ever actually marrying someone to be a part of a club.”
“But it was never about marriage,” she supplied, hating him, hating that he was the only person she could trust to help her understand what had happened. He seemed to pick up on her increasing hostility.
“Jade…” His eyes turned pleading. “I also never considered it might revolve around brutalizing another human being. If you believe anything, please believe that.” He leaned forward and whispered, “I know I’m a prick. I’m a lawyer for Christ’s sake. But I also love my mother and my sister and would never purposely hurt a female or anyone for that matter. I could never do what they wanted and never would’ve gotten involved had I known what would eventually be expected of me.”
“But eventually they told you. Somehow you figured this out. How?” He had to know something. Gritting her teeth, she said, “Tell me the part that will actually help me.”
“Six months later I got another package. It included very specific instructions and a small metal stamp. The second I understood what was actually expected I cut all ties. I tore the seal off my car and shredded all evidence of ever having an association with such despicable people.
“They tell you, in the first letter, the group’s not for the meek. They use words to describe themselves as above common law. They consider themselves demigods who are not to be dicked around, pardon my French.”
Touching her cup, but not bringing it to her lips, she fidgeted. “They said that?”
“It was implied. Any man willing to accomplish all four stages and provide proof of the crime proved to be a member capable of entrusting the brotherhood with a piece of their soul. Somewhere out there, there’s the coordinator of all this, and he holds enough evidence to incarcerate each and every member and destroy their lives. He also, I imagine, holds enough evidence to blackmail his members into assisting others and that’s why there’s so much influence that comes with the affiliation. With a simple note, he can demand one member do whatever needs to be done to get another member out of trouble. It’s absolute power.”
Dropping her gaze to the table, she covertly counted the men in the room. There were seven, including Nathan. There were only three women and one was herself. As improbable as such a society seemed, it also made strange sense. There were probably lawyers, police officers, politicians, government officials, and more involved in this boys’ club. Each one obligated to anonymously help the other members in exchange for omnipotence.
It was absolute corruption of power. There was no way of knowing how many of them were out there pretending to be members of polite society. She could go to the police and end up reporting her assault to an actual member, who could ultimately be the man who raped her, who could then send another member to finish what was started and kill her.
As if he read her thoughts, Nathan said, “They’re dangerous, Jade. You need to understand that. I feel for you, I do. But the best thing you can do for yourself is nothing at all. If you start sniffing around for clues, they’ll find out and they will retaliate. Forget what happened. Just worry about protecting yourself from here on out. When your baby comes—”
“There is no baby.”
His focus shot to her face, his eyes wide and his mouth trembling. “I thought—”
“I miscarried three weeks ago.”
His expression shifted from puzzled to empathetic. “I’m sorry, Jade. You already suffered so much. I … there’s no excuse for what they did to you. I’m sorry.”
Jade swallowed, forcing back her tears. Hurt gripped her chest like a vise, strengthening her resolve. Shaking her head, she rejected that forgetting what was done to her was her best option.
“I’m not going to just walk away. I’m not going to let fear control me. Yes, your story scares me, but not enough to run and hide. When I lost the baby I promised I’d do everything in my power to—”
“Jade—”
“No,” she cut him off. “You were on the other side. You have no idea what my side feels like, what I’ve been through physically and emotionally. I’m not going to let some old boys’ club scare me into silence.”
Panic contorted his face. “You’re making a mistake getting involved with these people.”
“Why?” she hissed. “For all we know those letters came from one sick fuck. You don’t know for sure how many members are out there.”
“No, but I guarantee you there are more of them than there are of you. They. Will. Hurt. You.”
“They already did.”
His insistence faded as his gaze lowered in resignation. “Remember how I told you about the symbolism of negative four?” His voice suddenly sounded riddled with shame. “Well, consider yourself lucky, Miss Shultz. I was not unconscious when they found me. I was beaten to a point that I thought I’d never be curious again. As far as victimization is concerned, we have more in common than you realize.”
“What are you talking about?”
He looked to make sure no one was watching and slid his tie to his shoulder. His fingers moved to the buttons of his shirt, loosening the top four as he pulled his shirt apart.
Her breath left in a whoosh. There, on his chest, was a branded four, about six times the size of hers.
He closed his shirt, quickly fastening the buttons and lowering his tie. “I didn’t come here to help you catch them. I came here to protect you from making the same mistakes I did. Don’t underestimate their power. Put it behind you and try to move on.”
Her vision blurred. Glancing at the table, a tear splattered on the smooth surface. “I can’t.”
“Then I can’t help you,” he said, regret clear in his voice.
Seeing his mark didn’t have the effect he likely expected. It only proved she was not alone. How many more times would this happen to some unsuspecting woman if no one ever tried to stop them? “Sometimes doing what’s right takes precedence over common sense.”
Shutting his eyes, his shoulders lowered. “You can’t use my name. I’m sorry.”
She met his gaze and recognized genuine regret in his eyes. He was afraid and she had to respect that, no matter what. “I’m sorry too.”
He sat in his black SUV parked just around the corner from the café and watched as Jade got into her car. He was still reeling from the relief that she had lost the baby. Sometimes life just worked out favorably on its own.
With all loose ends now tied, he should walk away, but he couldn’t stop himself from watching her. She had a way about her. Perhaps it was the glimpse of fierceness he caught every time he heard her speak or perhaps it was the vulnerability that swiftly followed.
Originally, he’d thought she was nothing more than a ditzy blonde. Sure, she was a nurse and that took some brains, but outside of her job, she was a clumsy little kid with big tits who laughed at everything and took nothing seriously.
However, in these past weeks, he discovered a side of her he hadn’t known existed. A side he grudgingly respected. She was strong, stronger than he’d assumed. Her short-winded displays of strength titillated him. She had a fire in her belly where their child had been. She was a feisty little mouse and he wanted to get her under his paws again.
The game had changed and he wasn’t finished with her. This time, he’d go about it differently.
He’d maintained very limited contact with her up until recently, but now he was ready to show her how perfect they could be together. He’d play his cards right and, slowly but surely, cement himself in her life.
Every day he was making progress toward the inevitable outcome. Soon enough, she’d be his.