Lunacy

Lunacy (closed for RawDog33)

Scarlett Fitzgerald stood outside Montgomery County jail, hands fisted in her pockets. She chewed ferociously on her lips as she debated the events that had brought her here and whether or not she should turn back. Honestly, she was unsure that this was the right path for her, but something had to give before she lost her marbles. She couldn't put up with it any longer.

Scarlett had been married to Emerson Fitzgerald for the last year, give or take. It had been a whirlwind romance that ended in marriage to a publically straight-laced lawyer almost ten years older than she herself. Behind closed doors, Emerson had some bad habits that Scarlett detested, but to everyone else, he was Pinegrove's golden boy; he could do no wrong. In all reality, he was selfish and arrogant, strict and tolerating no disobedience. He was of the mindset that the woman's place was at his feet and any misbehaviour was swiftly treated with corporal punishment. Scarlett couldn't differentiate where one bruise ended and the next began, because she was a strong woman who thrived on independence and that didn't sit well with Emerson at all.

She always had been the type who thrived on her own merit and skills. It had been a long journey to get where she was in this world, primarily based on the tragic events of her past. That was an understatement, actually, but it wouldn't do to dwell on it now. She just had never imagined herself in this particular moment feeling as desperate as she was to rid herself of an eyesore like her husband.

Emerson also had a habit of fucking his secretaries. This never ended well, but somehow they disappeared without a word when they become useless to him, no muss, no fuss. This man she slept with each night was nothing like the one she had married, and every day ended with more regret heaped onto the pile until she couldn't live with this disgusting man any longer.

That decision was solidified when his fists reigned down on her sweet face and turned her eyes black and blue for anyone and everyone to see. The swelling had finally gone down enough that it wasn't noticeable under the several layers of makeup she'd caked on this morning, but she hadn't seen the sunlight in a few days now lest she "embarrass" him. Scarlett knew that she couldn't run from him - Emerson had connections worldwide and he'd likely pin her down no matter where she went. He'd follow and make her life hell.

No.

She couldn't do that.

But there was one thing...

You see, there was one large secret that Emerson didn't know about. In fact, it wasn't exactly something Scarlett was proud of. She did her best to keep it buried deep in her past, but now she was desperate.

Scarlett needed a sure-fire way to escape her husband's mania.

Clearing her throat, Scarlett carded a hand through her fiery red-headed mane and took one confident step forward.

She had a date to keep afterall, though her partner didn't know it yet.

The guard raised an eyebrow when she declared her name and who she wanted to see, watching her critically in curiosity. It was just a bit odd is all; this woman had never visited in the four years he'd been working here in this high security prison. Actually, this particular prisoner hadn't had many visitors at all in the six he'd been incarcerated, except for the occasional rough-and-tumble type. Certainly not this young, beautiful woman. He was beginning to be suspicious that O'Brien's family wanted nothing to do with him, but here was this young girl claiming to be his sister (I mean, could you blame them?).

No fucking wonder, the guard, Jason, thought cynically. If I was related to some nutzoid like O'Brien I wouldn't come out of the woodwork either. Fucking psycho. How many people did he kill again?

Anyway, this girl had curves in all the right places and he could see a button straining to pop free from where it was tightly fastened over her plentiful breasts. He wanted to reach out and grab a handful but apparently that was inappropriate behaviour - frowned upon, as his senior officers repeated dutifully, rolling their eyes each time they covered it in staff meetings.

When the paperwork was filed, he pressed a button and the gate blocking the visitation booths unlocked. He waved her through, warning her, "you have thirty minutes, ma'am. There will be an officer with you in the room at all times -- Kendall. I'm sure you know, but O'Brien can be a handful, so if you need anything just wave down the guard and we'll escort you out when you're ready."

Scarlett pushed away from the counter she had been leaning on and entered the narrow hallway leading down to the moment she'd been avoiding for years. She'd just settled into the worn-down, hard plastic chair the prison provided and finished her perusal of the room (sparse as far as furniture went, four thick walls of glass divided by booths which separated visitors from the prisoners and a corded phone attached to the wall of each cubby) when there was a buzz and a door on the far side of the room opened.

Scarlett looked up through the glass of booth number two and met the deep, hardened green eyes of Connor O'Brien for the first time in almost seven years. They cut through her just like ice and Scarlett shivered. She straightened her shoulders and offered him a smirk that was much more confident than she felt.

“Ninety seven.”

“Ninety eight.”

“Ninety nine.”

“One hundred,” Connor O’Brien grunted as he dropped down from the pull-up bar in the prison “gym” and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his tattooed arm. His entire, powerfully-built torso was covered in a mosaic of elaborate ink.

A black kid came up to him; Connor knew he was just a messenger. He raised an eyebrow. “Money’s sent, big guy,” the kid said as he passed by him, and Connor already knew what that meant. He smirked, glanced over his shoulder at the doorway that led to the showers. Another black inmate waiting there, who caught Connor’s eye and nodded, then looked inside.

That’s when the commotion within began. The guard in the gym turned and walked out, standing in the hallway. Connor smirked. It was go time.

He marched into the locker room, and found the neo-nazi skinhead being held against the shower wall by three of the black guys. They snickered.

“The Punisher’s here for you, nazi bitch,” one of them spat. Connor chuckled. He had that nickname for two reasons. One was the massive skull inked into the middle of his chest.

The other was what was hanging between his legs. He dropped his shorts and stepped forward into the shower, stroking his massive meat to quick stiffness.

“You ain’t gonna walk or shit right for the next month, nazi fuck,” Connor growled just before making good on that promise...

*****

“O’Brien! Visitor!” came the shout at the door to his cell a short while later. Connor raised an eyebrow. He rarely got visitors.

He was marched through the prison in his orange jumpsuit and shackles and led to the visiting room, and sat down in booth 2. His dark green eyes drank in the familiar figure on the other side of the glass as he picked up the phone. A lot of memories returned in a heartbeat. He held them at bay.

“You look good, sis,” he said, his eyes locking with hers through the glass...

Scarlett had one quick second to regret this before Connor was making himself comfortable in the chair across the glass, one elbow resting on the counter as he reached for the phone to talk to her. Her eyes were drawn to the thick bands of muscle and colourful ink twining around his forearm. The rest of him basically sprawled into the chair, taking up as much room as possible and instinctually demonstrating the width of broad, powerful physique.

Fuck.

Prison hadn’t made this mountain of a man any less ruggedly handsome - even more so, if that self assured sparkle in his eye was anything to go by. It was just as intense as it always had been, but to see it after so many years stole her breath. Connor knew that he was attractive - always had - and their history meant that he knew exactly what Scarlett thought about that, but he hadn’t been slacking on his workouts since he’d been locked up. He’d always played sports in high school and kept his health at top tier, and Scarlett was no expert but she hadn’t thought he’d be able to continue those things in jail. She had been so wrong.

To see him now...

She swallowed her nerves and crossed one thigh over the other, ignoring the tingling in her groins that denoted just how strongly he still affected her. She reached for the phone firmly.

“I was hoping that I might see you’d become some scrawny little thing but prison suits,” she responded eventually, eyes finally drawn back up to his face. He was sporting a boyish grin and she couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking about - people had always said Connor was a dumb jock, but Scar knew better. Connor was deeply calculating, always thinking, but also silent. He used to love letting people underestimate him, because the cold satisfaction he got from proving them wrong when it was too late to do anything about it had always seemed to leave him with an hard-on, laughing his way to the bank.

No. Connor wasn’t stupid by any stretch. Scarlett could only imagine what was running through his head as he looked critically down on the woman who hadn’t bothered to visit since he’d been locked up. He might not be too enthused to do anything for her, but she hoped a fragment of their past and the whisper of their bond might be enough to convince him to help. This man sitting across from her was definitely what the doctor ordered - there’d be no stopping him once she gave him a reason to kill for her.

“How have you been, big brother?”

Connor’s gaze dragged over her. He noted with a pang of jealousy the impressive diamond glistening on her ring finger. He sneered at the sight of it; she was the last woman he had fucked before being sent away for the past six years. The incestuous memory was sometimes the only thing that kept him going.

His gaze lingered in that strained blouse button, threatening to burst open, the slightest hint of cleavage and lace just barely peaking through. He licked his lips.

“I’ve been locked up, little sister,” he replied. “How the fuck do you think I’ve been?” His words were harsh, but the years inside had done that to him. “I missed you,” he said quietly, looking down at the countertop for a moment.

He looked back up at Scarlett. “I’m up for early release next week, actually,” he said. “Good behavior and all,” he smirked. Of course, that wasn’t exactly true, but all his bad behavior had occurred when the guards knew to turn a blind eye to what was going down. Nevermind that the several different factions and gangs in the prison all wanted Connor out of the population; he was a wild card, and while they all had uses for him, no one wanted to be on the receiving end of his wrath. They had all seen what he was capable of.

“Can I count on you for a ride home from this shithole?” he asked her.

She bit back her flinch. She deserved his fury, but she couldn’t show him any weakness. Connor thrived on the ability to unsettle and undermine any opponent, and Scarlett knew that their hated blood and brief sexual interludes wouldn’t dissuade him from dismantling her if only she gave him the chance. She had to be firm.

Her eyes caught the flash of his darker greens as they sliced over her wedding band, and his sneer was a clear indication how he felt about it. Scarlett was confident that one of the fights he’d gotten into during his senior year was related to jealousy issues, though he had refused to confirm that. All she knew was that one of her ex-boyfriends never came around again after he’d been caught feeling Scar up by Connor on the couch one evening. That same boy had also turned up at school one week later with a shattered humerus and a fear for getting within a 200 foot radius of his apparently now ex-girlfriend.

She had screamed at Connor because she knew - just knew - that he had something to do about it, but he’d been awfully tight-lipped about it. Whenever she brought it up after that, he always found some way to silence her. Eventually, Scarlett had stopped asking. His jealousy issues had started to get out of control (and that was a problem, because he was her brother - the world couldn’t find out that they were fucking) and Scarlett had moved out of town to a university a few cities over and contact between the siblings had dwindled a bit.

It didn’t solve anything in the end, but it did give her momentary peace of mind.

Then everything went to shit.

Now, Connor seemed to be willing to overlook the disastrous way their illicit affair had come to an end. He was extending the olive branch, but Scarlett couldn’t help but wonder what he planned to get out of it all. She was sure he could find someone to give him a ride out and that he didn’t need her.

But he always chose her. It was the reason she was here. She could always count on Connor to fight her battles.

She drew painted lips up into a sweet smile.

“Of course, Connor. That actually works out perfectly. I was hoping that we could talk it out - I’m not proud of what I did - what we did. I miss you, though. You’re still my brother. I do love you,” she said slowly, raising her free hand and placing it flat on her side of the glass.

Connor placed his massive paw against the glass opposite his sister’s. “I love you, too,” he said softly. His gaze locked with hers, his mind racing as he examined her face through the glass. Her makeup was heavy, and there was a bit of swelling. He knew plenty well the signs of a beaten woman trying to hide her bruises.

He could feel his rage building within. He knew he had to keep it in check, but it was almost to boiling in a heartbeat. He needed to make it through this last week without incident.

“Whoever did that to you...” he growled, “it won’t ever happen again, Scarlett. I promise.” He knew she would know what he meant. So many memories were rushing back to him.

“Once I’m out... you’re mine again.”

Her shoulders sagged and she couldn’t hide the flicker of sadness that stole over her countenance. Even Connor could see it. Emerson, that fucking prick.

But Connor’s words were exactly what she needed to hear. Apparently she didn’t even have to ask him for that favour after all, because he planned on making it happen regardless. He always took care of things like that.

But she didn’t need the guards hearing his declaration that he intended for some hardcore incestuous fucking after he murdered her husband, either, so she faked another bright smile and said cryptically “okay, Connor. I have so many things to say to you, but those can wait. I just needed to see you - after this week we’ll both be free,”

His hand on the glass seemed massive. She remembered the way those felt stroking down her back to grasp at her ass as she rode him, and she remembered the way Connor always had the ability to make her feel safe, no matter what.

She didn’t say that she was here to ask him to kill her husband - he’d already said everything he needed to. He could read that in her face, anyway, but they could take about it when she picked him up. For now, silence hung over them as they watched each other, content to just be this close for the first time in years.

It had been Scarlett’s fault Connor ended up in jail and she’d been too scared to face him. He just seemed happy to see her. Maybe he didn’t know the role she’d played in putting him away, but she’d keep that close to the vest. She needed Connor to want to help her, after all, so appeasing his moods seemed like the best plan right now.

Their time together soon came to an end. As Connor was led back to his cell, he had renewed purpose in life. Scarlett would be his again, finally. She was all he had wanted, the entire time he had been locked up.

She owed him, after all.

The cell door slammed shut behind him and he sat down on the edge of the hard bunk, his mind filled with every fantasy he’d had of her over the past several years of his confinement.

The next week dragged on, of course, but he stayed the course, maintained control leading up to his parole interview, and was able to perform just like a reformed citizen for the board.

They were all just as eager as the gangs to get him out of their jail. The papers were signed and filed, and the next day, he was processed for release.

That first breath of free air was a beautiful thing. He breathed it in deeply, eyes shut for a moment, knowing that tonight he’d sleep comfortably in a soft bed, next to a beautiful woman...

He scanned the parking lot, and within a moment, Scarlett was pulling her car up in front of him...

She avoided visiting him again before he was let out. Not even necessarily because most of the things they could say were inappropriate for an audience, but because Emerson kept her busy at home. He’d done it again - his newest intern, Jenna Matheson, had been let go because Emerson had “touched” her in a way she didn’t like and Scarlett had to pretend she didn’t know why she was suddenly bending over backwards to come up with a reasonable excuse to Jenna’s university as to what the issue had been so that they could determine whether to place her somewhere else or drop her from the program entirely. Emerson’s excuse had been flimsy at best, and Scarlett had just rolled her eyes. Seriously. He thought she was dumb as shit.

This whole thing wasn’t fair on Jenna though, so Scarlett had forged a letter from Emerson that left Jenna with glowing reviews, only that she didn’t quite meet Emerson’s desired qualifications at this time - male, because that would keep his dick in his pants and show the world he was a sexist pig. Of course, Emerson had no idea this letter existed, but Scarlett had been made aware of trouble at the office by one of her husband’s account managers who was just as fed up with his bullshit and was immediately on top of that nonsense.

Now, that storm had finally blown over.

As she pulled up in front of Montgomery County, Connor was leaning up against the brick just outside the doors waiting for her with his single bag slung over his shoulder. As soon as he saw her he was crossing the sidewalk and reaching for the passenger door to the large Jeep Wrangler she had insisted Emerson buy her as a wedding gift.

Scarlett’s genuine smile was swallowed by Connor’s mouth as he leaned in and kissed her for the first time in six years. Scarlett didn’t fight. Her mouth fell open to accept his searching tongue and submit herself to the one man she could always trust to protect her.

Connor kissed his sister hungrily, deeply, devouring her; it was only the beginning of the things he wanted to do to her, but if he had learned anything in his six years locked up, it was patience. He would have what he deserved soon enough.

He broke the kiss long enough to toss his bag in the back seat, only to grasp her by the neck and pull her in for another. His tongue claimed her for his own. He’d deal with her husband soon enough. The hand on her neck crept down to grope and squeeze at one of her luscious breasts, and he quickly felt his arousal grow.

“I’m driving,” he declared as he broke the kiss again. “Scoot over.”

She was a bit breathless when he pulled back to demand the driver’s seat but she didn’t argue. When she climbed out of the vehicle to trade places with him, Connor couldn’t resist getting in another grope as his hand eclipsed her ass on his trek around to the other side (because Connor was too large to simply climb over the console like Scarlett could), but within no time at all they were resettled and Connor was looking at home behind the wheel.

Scarlett smiled, momentarily forgetting just why she was picking him up from prison, before she reached for her seatbelt.

Connor’s large paw over hers made her look up at him in confusion, green eyes wide.

Connor stopped her from buckling her seat belt. She wouldn’t be needing it, not right away, at least. He smirked at her, even as he pulled down the zipper on his jeans.

“It’s an hour drive back to the city,” he said, already sliding his pants and briefs down his legs and unabashedly exposing his massive member to her view. “And once you get done sucking my dick, you can tell me all about what you need me to do about your little problem,” he growled, accelerating the jeep as he sped out onto the highway.

Of course, he had been planning to do exactly this for days now, ever since her unexpected visit. He had made sure to jerk himself off just before being processed for release, to ensure he wouldn’t cum too soon. He knew Scarlett wouldn’t deny him his request, after all.

So it was going to be like this, huh?

Not even five minutes after he released he was demanding sexual favours.

Oh well - at least Connor had something to work with compared to Emerson, so Scarlett didn’t mind sucking him off. Especially not now that she had expectations for him. Actually, compared to Emerson (and any random joe blow off the street), Connor had an exceptionally large dick. Once they had started fucking, Scarlett had learned to take it. Now she was out of practice, but the large piece of meat still made her mouth water with desire.

She curled her flaming red hair over her far shoulder and bent to take the tip in her mouth. Just before she did, she smirked and asked, “why Connor, so eager to get back to that shithole already? Get going brother dear, and let the professional work her magic.”

“I ain’t going back,” he declared as they sped down the highway, and he meant it. He felt her ruby red lips wrap tightly around his rapidly engorging member, and he groaned with pleasure, allowing her to do her dirty work. He leaned back, one hand atop the steering wheel as her head bobbed up and down in his lap.

She proved quite dedicated to the task; he even dared to think she was enjoying it. He knew his body well, and as expected, it took quite a while to work up to orgasm, but some five miles outside the city, she finally was able to work him up enough to achieve a momentous release, blasting his copious seed into her mouth...

“Fuuuuuck...” he growled, his cock throbbing in her mouth.

“Much better,” he said as she came up off his cock.

“Now, spill the beans.”

The heavy weight of his cock in her throat felt like coming home. It was like riding a bike; as soon as it touched her tongue, Scarlett remembered the ways he liked her to play with his balls as she sucked or the way a quick press of teeth just on the underside of the head always made him jerk and throb in her mouth so intensely. Connor might usually take advantage of her mouth on his dick and fuck her stupid, but Connor was a sensitive boy way, way deep down. He was a sucker for when Scarlett put effort into their lovemaking and demonstrated just how much she loved her big brother.

Muscle memory wasn’t enough to remind her of the taste of his thick virile cum load. It had been six years since she’d last had it, but it was more than a mouthful. It leaked down her chin and bulged her cheeks outwards. She swallowed a few times before his hot cream coated the inside of her esophagus and belly.

Scarlett sat up and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand casually.

Smiling, lips spread and gleaming white teeth visible, Scarlett snickered.

“Oh, baby. You might be after you slit my husband’s throat for me.”

The way Scarlett casually described how she wanted Connor to murder her husband would have been quite unsettling to most people... but Connor was a different breed of man. He grunted and sniffed, glancing over at her.

“That will make quite the mess,” he stated, matter-of-factly. “We’re going to need a better plan than that. I’m all for killing the motherfucker. Nobody lays a finger on my sister, but me. We just need to make sure that by the time anyone figures out that he’s dead, we’re long gone and living a new life.”

He drove into the city. Some things had changed over the years, but plenty was still the same, and he headed into a dangerous part of town. His old stomping grounds.

Her laugh was cold, a tinkling musical sound in the vehicle at his response. Before he even said anything she could see the disdain on his face about the potential mess. Normally, Scarlett abhorred messes - she always had to clean them up for Emerson so she was quite adept at it by now but certain not willing.

Emerson would be one such mess she’d actually get some pleasure from mopping over the floor.

“Emerson is a shit-stain on my life, Connor. What isn’t messy in regards to him?” She pondered, raising the finger bearing her massive rock up to the windshield. The diamonds glittered and refracted the light so prettily all over the interior of the Jeep.

She watched their surroundings carefully as they drove, and this time it was her turn to turn her nose up at the bad end of the city: these days, Scarlett had grown used to opulence and wealth, and the shanties on this side of town were decrepit and falling down, homeless individuals lining the streets begging for money from citizens who really weren’t much better off than they were, and uncountless alleys luring unsuspecting victims into the belly of the beast where gangbangers were said to lurk.

Of course.

She said “I hope you don’t intend to stay here, Connor. This is fucking disgusting. I won’t allow it - when I go home tonight you’ll be coming with me, Emerson be damned; he can’t kick my God damned brother out.”

Connor listened to her declaration and sneered a bit, but he was happy to go along with shacking up at her place. He knew, however, he wouldn’t be able to abide by her sleeping with another man, even if it was her husband.

“Then shit hits the fan tonight,” he mused. His mind was racing, trying to remember everything he’d learned in the joint, figuring out what they would need. It was clear that Scarlett had no plan beyond killing the man. It would be up to Connor to ensure their escape and continued freedom.

“We’re gonna need money. Cash. As much as we can get our hands on.” He pulled the jeep to a stop in front of a pawn shop, and looked over at her. “Your ring.”

She snorted incredulously.

“Are you kidding? This thing is the only worthwhile thing I ever got from that jackass! Like hell I’m handing it over to some crummy pawner who hasn’t seen the value of this rock in his entire life!” She exclaimed like it had been an outrageous suggestion.

She knew it wasn’t - it was a good idea, but she debated on whether or not she could just clean out the credit cards and close the bank account without anyone being none the wiser - doubtful. Seems like selling the ring was the only option. It would sustain them comfortably for a long time, too.

She’d seen the receipt. Emerson had actually handed his credit card over to her and allowed her to choose her engagement and wedding bands with a nonchalant wave of his portly hand stating “do what you want. Whatever makes you happy.”

Oh, how things had changed.