The Long Way Home (12 page)

When the elevator got to our floor, he tossed me over his
shoulder and carried me to the room. He laid me on the bed and buried his face
between my legs again.

I moaned, pulling at my dress. When I got the buttons open,
exposing my breasts, he sat up on his knees and unbuttoned his pants. He
dragged them down, bouncing his huge cock between my legs.

"You ready for me, Jack? ‘Cause I can't wait a second
longer."

I nodded, pulling at his dress shirt. He pulled it off and
bent his face down to my nipple. He sucked as he slowly moved the head of his
cock between my legs. He dragged it up and down my slit, getting me ready. I
held my breath as he entered me. He moaned into my chest as he made a second
plunge, getting all the way in.

His beard dragged against my nipple as he breathed into the
top of my chest.

"Fuck me. Jack, you see what you do to me?" he
pumped into me hard once. I cried out, “Please kiss me, Mike.”

Finally, he put his mouth on mine and pumped hard. My legs
were spread as wide as they would go to accommodate his thick body. They
bounced in the air as he thrust wildly. He rolled on his back, dragging me with
him, no doubt too close to finishing. I slid up his cock as he moved my hips
the way he wanted them to. His hands moved to my breasts. I leaned forward so
he could suck one and roll the other. I worked his cock, sliding up and down
it, making it hit the right spot until I felt it. The buildup hit. I moaned as
he felt me climaxing and increased his sucking and flicking. I clenched down on
him, riding his cock rapidly as I came.

Sounds escaped my mouth that I didn’t know I could make. I
felt him get into position to roll again. I finished
orgasming
and he rolled on top of me. He sat up, holding my thighs and pumped hard until
he came in a series of groans and ball slapping. He collapsed on me. I couldn't
stop smiling or trying to pull him farther into me.

We finished and I smiled into the spattering of hair on his
chest, “You have a one-track mind, I swear.”

He shook his head, “No, it’s just you.” We
laid
there half dressed and panting, until I realized I’d left my purse in the
restaurant. “Shit. I have to go downstairs and get my purse.”

He sighed, “I’ll go.”

I kissed his cheek, “That’s okay. You go get some water and
some snacks and we can watch another movie.”

He laughed, “So much for a road trip. All we’ve done is stay
here and have sex.”

I laughed and walked to the bathroom.

By the time I cleaned up, he was already gone. I hurried down
and grabbed it from the front desk where it had been turned in. I walked across
the foyer, lost in thought and smiles. I think I might have recognized him
sitting across from the elevator, but my brain didn’t register Phil being
there. I walked past but he got up quickly. He looked rough.

Fuck him.

I frowned when I saw him walking to me. My heart was pounding
and my stomach was clenched. I just needed to get away from him. All I saw was
the cape and the lies. Devastation and foolishness filled me as he shouted,
"Jacqueline, wait."

I pressed the button for the elevator, "No."

He grabbed my wrist, but I stepped into the elevator, forcing
him to come with me.

Being in the small elevator alone was a bad idea. He stepped
towards me, "Baby, I'm so sorry."

I shook my head indignantly, almost wishing I could curl into
a ball but I needed Mike. "No you're not. You’re sorry you got
caught—in a fucking cape, no less. You aren’t sorry you fucked the hell
out of that child on my sheets and bed in my shoes!" Anger and rage were
fueling my hatred.

He winced, "I'm getting counseling. I have a sickness.
Please, come home."

I looked at him like he had three heads, "Are you high
right now? Because you have to be, to think I would go anywhere with you."

He handed me a bag, "I replaced your shoes."

I snatched the bag. Fuck him, I loved those shoes. The
elevator landed and I stepped off. I walked to the door with him at my heels.

I slid the key in, stepped inside the room and slammed the
door in his face, but he caught it. He stepped in and closed it.

"I know I screwed up, but I love you. Please, give me a
second chance."

I tossed the shoe bag onto the bed I had slept in with France
and crossed my arms, "I want you gone. I'm going to call security."

"Your father is here with me."

I felt a sickening twist inside of me. My eyes almost watered
because I knew what it meant. “How could you? How could you involve him? Did
you tell him what you did?”

He looked down, shaking his head
slowly,
"He just wants you to come home with us on the jet. He wants you
downstairs and ready to leave in half an hour."

I looked at him, "I'm here with someone."

He nodded, "I know about Mike. I always have." He
fought something when he said it.

I shook my
head,
"I have never
done a thing with him, not since you and I got engaged. I never cheated on you,
not once."

"But you loved him from the minute I met you. You think
it was easy knowing I was always second to him?"

I felt the rage building, "So you eased your pain with
the pussy of a young girl? Did you get her V-card, Phil?"

He stood taller, meeting my rage, "We are leaving in
half an hour, pack your shit, J.D." He stepped into my face, towering over
me, "You think your family will let you marry someone like him? Not a
chance. Your father has worked too hard to prove himself to the elite families.
He isn’t going to let you throw away all that hard work." He spit on me as
he spoke, "People like him, they're the ones we have affairs with in seedy
hotels. You just try to be more elegant about it. I am willing to concede you
will never love me, but I refuse to be left for a hockey player. Why not a
janitor or a bartender? You think I didn’t know about that young man giving you
his number the other day. You think I missed that?"

I shoved him back, "While you were balls deep in
Eleanor? Yeah, I do think you missed that."

He slapped me hard. It caught me off guard. I fell back onto
the bed. He stopped himself from attacking; I watched the flinch in his body.
His chest was rising and falling like he was about to scream. I gripped my face
as my lower lip started to tremble. I had never been hit before. Tears of hate
and anger filled my eyes, "Fuck you, Phil."
I
pointed at the door
,
"Get out."

He shook his head, "You think you can humiliate me with
a man like that and not expect me to retaliate?"

My whole body was trembling with fear and hatred, and even a
little shame. Somehow, he made me feel it. I sniffed, hating that he had made
me cry. I hated crying for him. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to the door. I
put my feet down, fighting him but he won out. He threw me over his shoulder
and opened the door. I pounded on his back but he walked as if I were a child
having a fit.

He pressed the elevator. I was kicking and screaming but no
one was on that floor, the presidential suite was the only room on the floor.

As the door opened, I didn’t see what happened but I flew
back off his shoulder, slamming into the wall. I cried out as Phil landed on
me. I tried to crawl away as tears were streaming my face and sobs were ripping
from me. I heaved and crawled. Someone grabbed my arm, dragging me into the
room. I caught a glimpse of Phil on the ground moaning as the door was shut. I
collapsed onto the floor as France wrapped around me. I could feel him
breathing as he held me.

He carried me to the bed and kissed my forehead, "I'll
be right back."

I grabbed him, holding him to me, "No. My father is here
too. Stay. They'll press charges if you hurt him." I knew he was capable
of killing Phil.

He climbed onto the bed with me.

"Did he hurt you?"

I shook my head, "No."

He lifted my
face,
obviously there
was a mark. He was up and off the bed and flying out the door. It slammed shut
before I could stop him.

I lay there, contemplating leaving the room and witnessing
him murdering Phil, but I decided against it. I knew, seeing my bruises and the
way I would kowtow to my father, would only enrage him more.

I waited for a long time, frozen and afraid of the outcome of
my actions. France was an innocent bystander but he would lose the most.

Finally, the door opened and he came sauntering in. His wooly
face was flushed. He looked at me, "Your dad is here." My father
walked in behind him. When he saw the state of me, he stopped. I wiped my eyes
and sat upright, perfectly. He looked at my cheek and sighed, "Phil?"

I nodded.

He nodded and straightened his suit, "Mike, do you mind
if I have a moment?"

Mike gave me a look. I nodded and he walked out of the room.
I caught a glimpse of Phil in the hallway. I didn’t even want to imagine how
that was going to go.

My father looked around the huge room, settling on the
couches on the other side. He held his hand out towards them, "Shall
we?" I got up, straightening my dress and hair and followed him over
there. We sat opposite one another. He cleared his
throat,
"I have spoken with Phil on this matter of infidelity. He is seeking some
guidance from his family's doctor. You have to see how awkward this is for us
all, you two having troubles right now. With it being so close to the wedding
and all."

I felt the look creep across my face, "He had sex with a
young girl in our house in a cape and he hit me."

He nodded, "People make mistakes, Jacqueline. I have
made my fair share and your mother doesn’t rub my face in them."

I nodded, "I know. I know about the affairs you have had
on Mom. I know you have hit her. I have seen you do it. You think I want that
for my life? Even worse, is that the life you want for me?"

His eyes filled with anger, "The life we have given you
has been taxing. Yes, there have been moments that weren’t perfect, but we
sacrificed a lot for you and your sister. We have had highs and lows like all
marriages. One day, you will grow up and make the same kind of choices for your
children so, they too, can school with the best. Marry the best. Live amongst
the best."

I shook my head, feeling the tears dripping down my cheeks as
empty pain was taking all my strength and will away, "Daddy, I never cared
where I went to school. I was never one of them, not really. I can't marry
Phil. You can't make me." It was a weak attempt at defiance. Even I heard
the pathetic tone in my voice.

His voice never changed from soft and controlled when he
nodded, "I can. I'm
friends
with some people who
can make sure Mike doesn’t play anymore. It's very political, that hockey. Or
even worse, what would happen if they found a bunch of drugs in his locker or
house or a dead whore? I can make that happen. I can also make sure that you
have nothing. No money and no connections. I will cut you off completely and
none of your family or friends will ever speak to you again."

My stomach dropped. The list of possibilities was endless.
Dead whores, no money, no jobs.
Was love worth the loss of
everything else? Was my self-respect worth Mike losing everything?

He nodded at the empty look on my face, "The jet will be
waiting for you for one hour." He knew my answer. He got up and placed a
small bottle on the table and left the room. He didn’t care about me at all. He
would ruin Mike; I would ruin Mike. I would drag him down with me. He had
worked so hard to get to where he was. My stomach ached as I came face to face
with the brutal truth. I crawled on my knees to the small bottle. Defeated and
broken, I opened the pill bottle and slipped the single blue pill into my
fingertips. I rolled it back and forth, contemplating not taking it and forcing
myself to suffer through the immense pain I was going to feel when I broke
Mike’s heart. I placed the pill between my lips and tilted my head back, taking
the coward’s path as always. The pill was sliding down my throat when Mike
walked into the room, looking lost and confused. He glanced at the pills in my
hand and the tears on my cheeks.

"Are you leaving?"

I nodded slowly.

He tilted his head, like he was begging God for strength to
deal with
me and the giant failure
I was, "Jack,
come on. How are you still scared of him? I will protect you from them. Stay
with me," he dropped to his knees in front of me.

I ran my hands through his beard, unable to control the tears
streaming my cheeks. I couldn’t blink. I couldn’t do anything beyond breathe
and touch him. I couldn’t risk dragging him in anymore. I knew goodbye this
time meant goodbye.

I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his forehead and
whispered, "I am leaving something very important with you. Keep it safe
for me."

He pulled back, gripping my wrists, "No. You are
staying." He looked angry and hurt and I hated myself. The panic attack
inside of me was holding off, waiting for the blue pill to start.