'Til death do you part...

[DeliciousMaiden]

OOC:

My thanks to Miltone for offering to take the male lead in this story.

As the story develops, please feel free to PM ideas, responses or ideas for further characters.

Thank you - I hope you enjoy reading along.

DM x

IC:

The water swirled in eddies below her indicating the strength of the current.
It was the right place. The ideal place for what she wanted to do.
The background noise of traffic seemed to fade.
All she could think of was the swell and power of the water.
Water that would swallow anything up into its depths.

Weakly she swayed and steadied herself.
Her head spun and replayed an array of disjointed images.
It all seemed unreal. It was beyond her understanding.
It had all become too much for her to bare.

Her auburn hair was dishevelled, matted with blood.
Her clothes were torn, indicating a struggle.
Bruises were showing livid on her neck.
Her face merely held superficial scratches.
But her body was too broken for her to be grateful for such a small mercy.

Again her head throbbed, her vision blurred.
She shook her head to clear her view and winced, drawing a soft gasp of pain.
Now … she must do it now.

Leaning forward she delved her hand into the pocket of her coat.
The heavy black wool hid the thigh length nightshirt she wore beneath.
The garment had been pale blue, but was now dyed with livid pools of red.
She looked down at the revolver in her hand.
She held her finger over the trigger.

…. So easy … too easy…

Behind her she heard a shout.

Her body jumped and swayed forward towards the inky blackness beyond.
Releasing the weapon she heard the hollow plop as it entered the river, but already it was lost to her eyes.
Dizzy, with relief she rocked forward; careless of her own safety now the deed was done.

Again the shout.

She sighed impatient and weary.
Why couldn’t she just be left alone … ?
She just wanted to go where nobody could find her … ever again.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

He was still half asleep. The damned alarm hadn’t gone off on time and he had to rush out of bed and get showered and dressed in hurry. He hated to be rushed like that. And then on his way to his bakeshop, there was some overnight construction that had traffic lanes narrowed down and closed. Even at this early hour there was enough of a back up that he decided to take the Eighth Street Bridge. It wasn’t much of a short cut, in fact it was a few blocks out of his way, but at least he’d be able to skirt the problem and get to work at a decent hour.

Not that you could call three A.M. decent. Not for most people, but when you own and operate a small bakeshop, people come to depend on you for their fresh bread and bagels and crullers every morning, and your day has to begin while they’re still asleep. But Matt liked his work. The hours sucked, but he was doing something good with his life. He was making something people needed. He was his own boss. After working at a bunch of dead-end jobs for somebody else, now he alone was calling the shots.

But as he drove over the bridge, something caught his eye. A dark figure at the side by the railing that wasn’t moving. Long hair he noticed as he cocked his head to the side while driving past, a woman. He almost turned back to the road and kept on, but something told him to stop, something that he didn’t ordinarily do, something that he certainly didn’t have time to do this morning, running already so late. Shit! Maybe she’s all right, just lost in her own thoughts for some reason. Yeah, right! On the middle of the Eighth Street Bridge at three in the morning! He pulled his Jetta to a stop and hopped out. Walking up toward her he tried calling out to her.

“Excuse me, Miss?” he said loudly. “Miss? Are you okay?” She either didn’t hear him or didn’t respond. In the glow of the streetlights lining the bridge, she appeared to be lurching forward, clutching the railing, and for a second he thought she might be going to jump. Christ! Do I need to get involved with this? He didn’t think it again, he approached her and reached out to take her arm. “Are you all right, Miss?” he asked.

The moment he touched her dark coat, she whirled on him, her eyes large and vacant, her face covered with what looked like scratches. A nasty gash on her head was sending a trail of blood down her temple. The jacket parted and he could see blood all over her nightgown.

“My god!” he said reaching for his cell phone. “Do you want me to call the police?”

Her large dark eyes blinked as she looked up at him. She shook her head absent-mindedly and looked away. She was obviously dazed and disoriented and certainly injured in some way.

“Shall I call an ambulance?” he asked, flipping on his cell pressing 911 for emergency.

“Nooo!” she said her hand grabbing at his phone. It was a guttural sound, animal in nature, and very desperate.

“Well, Miss, you can’t stay here,” he said hanging onto his phone and slipping it into his pocket. “It’s the middle of the night and you look like you at least need to go to the hospital.” He held her shoulders with both hands and looked her over. She was young and beautiful and something terrible had happened to her. She looked too pretty and refined to be a hooker that had been roughed up and tossed out.

“No … no police … no hospital …” she said, her eyes still vacant and glazed over.

Shit! He couldn’t just leave her here. She needed help, nothing that he could do, but someone’s help. Fuck! He couldn’t take her to the bakeshop! Maybe if he just got her in the car, he could drop her off at emergency and they could take care of her.

“Come on, Miss,” he said trying to lead her toward his car. “Let me help you.”

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

The touch on her arm made her whirl round.
A man stood beside her. His grip was firm on her coat.
Where had he come from?
What did he want?
He was speaking, but terror filled her and she couldn’t make sense of his words.
Even as she faced him, she knew she did not have the strength to pull away, to run, to defend herself.
Besides it was all too much effort.
What was the point anymore?
Wearily she turned away from him, dismissing his presence from her mind.

But his voice was persistent.
She heard him offer to call the police.
She turned to see him take out a cell phone and panicked.

“Nooo!”

Some how she found the strength to protest.
She reached out in a vain attempt to wrench the phone from his hand.

“Well, Miss, you can’t stay here,”

He began to speak softly, gently.
She tried to concentrate on the words, she heard him mention a hospital.
The hospital and police would be involved soon enough, she knew.
He would not have to call them.

She looked up then as she felt his hands upon her shoulders.
She shrunk back from the touch, her heart racing as her stomach knotted in fear.
She looked up at him, but he did not seem to notice her terror.

“No … no police … no hospital …”

She had to make him understand.
She had to get him to leave her alone.

“Come on, Miss. Let me help you.”

She reached into the pocket of her coat and moaned in frustration remembering that the gun was no longer there.
If only she’d held on to it, then she would have made him leave her alone.
But instead he persisted.
His hands were upon her trying to move her, guide her, but she struggled fighting him.

”Nooo...!"

His hand captured her wrist and drew her close to him.
She winced and begged him.

"… go away… please… “

Finally the pitful tone of her voice and her reaction to his touch made him realise that he was merely causing her more distress.
He glanced at the water below and fearful of her falling into the water beneath, he backed away.

”Ok… fine… don’t move … it’s not safe… look … It’s ok… I’m not going to hurt you … “

She stood still as she watched him back up and move away from her.
Her breathing had become ragged.
She wound her arms around herself and watched him through wide eyes.
She watched him hold out a hand.
She heard the coaxing tone of his voice.

”Carefully now.. right… just a few steps … “

Without thinking, she responded.
Ignoring the proffered hand, she took a tentative step towards him, away from the edge of the bridge.
She repeated the action and then again, until she found herself blinking in the light of the lamps that illuminated the street.

She heard his words and once more failed to make sense of them.
Instead she stood trembling, her dishevelled state more noticeable now he could see her clearly.
She swayed once more and took a few staggering steps towards the nearest lamppost leaning against it for support.
Her eyes closed as her head pressed against the cool metal.

The stranger was already forgotten.
All she was aware of was the throbbing and spinning of her head and the fact that whenever she opened her eyes, she couldn’t see straight.

She didn’t hear him approach her again.
She didn’t feel his arms going about her as he supported her and drew her towards his car.
She was unaware of his gaze as he buckled the seat belt around her.
She did not hear his sharp intake of breath when he saw the bruising on her thighs and her upper arms.
When she finally opened her eyes, her coat was pulled snugly around her slim frame, a soft travelling rug was tucked about her and she was sat in the front seat of a car that was travelling smoothly through the darkness.

”Where am I?”

She asked softly as she tried to piece together how she had come to be there…

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“You’re in my car and I’m taking you to the … to, uhmm … to safety,” he said to the girl as he drove through the dim streets. He had nearly turned away when he had seen the mess she was in, but something clicked inside him. Maybe it was the haunting stinging words of his ex-wife telling him that he had no compassion, no feelings for other people, that when someone else—meaning her—really needed help he was never there. Or maybe it was just the look of the girl, dazed, helpless, and teetering between the world above the dark river and whatever fate lay below the waterline.

Though she had initially resisted, he had managed to get her into his car and secured. When she had begun to shiver, he pulled a blanket from the back seat and tucked it around her. All he needed was for her to go into shock. St. John’s ER was maybe five minutes away. There was an Urgent Care facility nearby but he wasn’t sure exactly where it was. Then as he turned off Eighth Street he saw the lights for the Providence Hospital satellite clinic. They take walk-ins—they must! No sooner had he pulled up into the small driveway then he felt a hand grabbing at his arm, then another.

“Noooo … no … no hospital!” the girl screamed weakly.

Her large eyes were wild with fright; they were beautiful eyes but wide and filled with a crazy look. Her long fingers dug into his arms desperately.

“Why not? They can help you in there … I’m not a doctor … I can’t help you,” he protested. When he tried to unbuckle her seatbelt, she scratched at his hands with her long nails.

“Nooo … noooo … noooo …”

Fuck! I don’t need this, he thought. Of all the fucking things to happen lately, this is the last thing I need to deal with! Maybe, just maybe if he takes her to the bakeshop, cleans her up a bit, lets her rest on the little couch in his office, she’ll get herself together enough to be on her way. Big maybe, but Matt didn’t know what else to do since she definitely didn’t want any part of the hospital.

“All right, all right!” he said to her, trying to calm her down. “I’ll take you to my shop. We can get you cleaned up and … and you can rest.” Her wild eyes were searching his face for something, but his words seemed to settle her back down. She shrank back away from him and leaned against the door panel. He put the Jetta into gear and pulled away.

Within minutes he had pulled up behind his shop and the struggle to get her safely inside began. First she didn’t want to get out of the car and he thought of leaving her there, but knew that people often wandered along the alleyway. As he struggled to get her to the doorway, she tried to pull away from him. Then she almost collapsed when he had to fish the key from his pocket to unlock the shop. But eventually he got her into his modest little office and onto the couch.

He filled a pan with warm water, got some towels and tried to wash her off a bit. She resisted at first, pushing away his hand that held the dampened towel, but he persisted and finally was able to wash away the dried blood on her temple and hair. She winched noticeably as he tended to the gash on her head. He got some antiseptic and bandages from the safety cabinet and dressed her wound. There were light scratches all over her pretty face and he found more when he began to open up her coat. She couldn’t stay in these blood-spattered clothes.

He rummaged around and found a spare white linen shirt and pants that were too small for him that he had forgotten to give back to the uniform company. They weren’t the most fashionable, but would that matter at this point? There was another struggle when he tried to take the heavy black wool coat off her. She was wearing just a light nightshirt underneath. There were bruises on her arms and legs My god! She’s been beaten up! he thought. He washed off her limbs as well as he could, feeling for broken bones but not finding any that he could tell.

When he tried lifting the nightshirt from her slender body, she struggled to keep the bloody garment about her, eyes wild shooting a piercing look at him. Her body was trembling madly.

“Look!” he snapped at her. “I don’t know what’s happened to you, who did this or even who you are. Maybe I should have just left you to jump off the bridge or whatever it was that you were going to do for all I know. But you’re here and you’re safe. I’m … I’m not going to hurt you … let me help you!”

She shrank away from him and turned her back before pulling the nightshirt off her naked body. He washed and dried her bare back before getting up. From what he could see she had a beautiful body with clear soft skin found in magazine ads. Who the fuck would have beat her like this/

“Here,” he said offering the shirt and pants to her. “You can put these on when you’re finished. I have to get started. I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

With that Matt left the office. Glancing at his watch, he could see that it was already two hours later than he usually got started. He fired up the ovens, changed quickly and started mixing up the first batch of dough. When he looked in on the girl, she had dressed in the baggy shirt and pants and was curled up on the couch apparently asleep. He slipped into the office and pulled the old afghan onto her form. He gathered up her bloody clothes and stuffed them into a garbage bag. He squatted beside the couch and brushed the damp hair from her face.

“I have no idea who you are or where you came from,” he whispered. “But you look like you need help … just why mine?” Although he had a thousand things to do and was running well behind schedule, he lingered for a few moments more before getting up and getting the bread and bagels going. There were a hundred questions flooding his mind and he wondered just which ones would be answered.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

She lay curled up in a protective ball.
The clean clothes were soothing; the rug covering her was warming.
She struggled to make sense of the events as they replayed again and again, like a roll of film jumping and leaving gaps.
Yet she couldn’t quite piece it together.

Who was the man who had brought her here?
Had she asked him for help?
She couldn’t now remember.
She’d struggled, fought him when he’d manhandled her.
Time and again she’d expected to feel him hit her, expected him to attack her.
When he had tried to remove her clothes she felt sure that he was intending to force her …
Yet despite trying to get her into the hospital, he had done nothing more than clean her up and let her sleep.

And yet, though he wasn’t rough, he wasn’t kind either.
He had scared her when he’d shouted at her.
So foolish really: She should be used to that by now.
But she’d never got used to it.
Never quite accepted it.
Although she knew it was all her fault, she had never quite worked out why.

She sat up shakily and raised a tentative hand to her head.
She winced. A scab was already forming, but a lump was growing.
She remembered that clearly.
Remembered hitting the bedside cabinet and the pain and then …

She looked up to find him standing in front of her.
Again panic filled her as she gripped the cover.
He held out a glass and after a slight hesitation she reached out and curled her fingers around to take it.
Her hand shaking she began to draw the glass to her lips.
At once his hands were about hers.
Too weak, too thirsty suddenly to protest, she let him steady her hand and drank the cool refreshing water.
When she had had enough, he took the glass and set it down within her reach.

”Thank you … “

She whispered, her voice soft and hesitant.

He nodded in acknowledgement and moved to sit at the far edge of the couch.
She watched him and drew her legs protectively up towards her body, looking ready to flee, should necessity demand it.

”What’s your name?”

She watched his face, hearing his calm tones.

”Jess… Jessie… “

She responded.

”Jessie… is there someone I should call for you … family … ?”

Her eyes locked widened as she shook her head.

”… husband… ?”

She lowered her eyes, her fingers moving to play with the empty ring finger on her left hand. He watched, curiously as her fingertips traced the ridge left by the recently removed article.

”Are you married, Jessie?”

She looked up sharply her expression one of growing panic.
He paused, letting her calm once more.

”How old are you Jessie? “

Again his quietly patient tone drew her out.

”.. 26 … we were married for 3 years… “

She murmured as if to herself.
Again he paused, both digesting her words and trying to locate the accent.

”Where do you live… I can take you back there … or any other place you want to go …”

He offered gently.

”Nowhere … nowhere to go … “

Her body swayed as tears fell silently.

”No one home .. “

She whispered brokenly.

”.. dead....”

The barely audible words only just left her mouth when her body began to shudder in silent sobs.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

He had made mistakes before, taken wrong turns, said the wrong thing, had not done the right thing, married the wrong woman for all the right reasons (or was it the right woman for all the wrong reasons?), but the bag of bloody clothes sitting in the corner of his office, and this mysterious girl, Jessie, dazed and bruised, wounded and disoriented, was the worst.

Why couldn’t he have just driven past, or, even having stopped, just left her on the bridge? Why did he have to feel some pang of guilt that made him help her? What little she had told him, didn’t put him at ease, in fact it had the opposite effect. Blood … death … police … fuck! He didn’t like the way that equation added up. Although she was starting to come around, he didn’t want to push things. Christy, his counter girl, would be showing up soon and he would need to come up with an explanation of some kind.

“Where are you from?” he asked, trying to place her accent. It sounded British.

She lay back down and her eyes closed. Her slender pale hand went to the gash on her head that Matt had bandaged and she winced at the touch. Matt looked at her closely, her dark eyes opening to tiny slits. He reached out toward her, but brought his hand back when she recoiled from him.

“I’m going to let you rest for a while longer,” he said. “I’ll bring you something to eat later.”

Matt rose up from the couch and pulled the blinds on the lone window closed. He had bread to take out of the oven, and bagels and crullers to set out front. Although he didn’t usually get the soup started till later in the morning, he began to assemble the ingredients. Despite running late, despite the setbacks, despite the presence of the girl, he had hustled his ass off and managed to get things caught up, even pushing ahead of schedule.

Although throwing himself into his work usually helped him sort out problems before, this one he found baffling. One part of him said to just call the police and let the authorities take over. Another part said to just help her as he could, leave her alone and maybe she would go away. The rest of him had no clue as to what to do, so he just whipped up the large pot of the daily soup and made his shop ready for the customers. By the time Christy sleepily showed up just before six thirty, he had fixed a small tray behind the counter with soup, some fresh bread, juice and coffee.

“Lunch already?” Christy asked as she sleepily hung up her coat and slipped into her crisp pastel jacket.

“Lunch? Well, yeah. I … uh, got an early start today,” he said quickly, taking up the tray. “I’m just going to have a quick bite before the rush comes.”

Christy looked puzzled, but shrugged and started into her morning routine. Matt carried the tray back to his office. He hoped that the smell of freshly baked bread and warm soup might rouse the girl, Jessie. He nudged the door open and set the tray down on the desk. Then closed the door tightly, picked up the tray and turned to carry it over to the couch.

“Jessie, I’ve brought you something to eat,” he said softly but cheerfully.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie

“Jessie, I’ve brought you something to eat,”

She looked up and blinked, then sat up slowly.
She watched as he sat down next to her and smiled shyly.
Carefully he leaned over to balance the tray on her lap and then sat back watching her as she reached for the bread and began to break it between her fingers.
She slipped a crumb into her mouth and smiled as the warm aromatic texture easily slipped down her throat.

”It’s good…”

She commented softly as if in surprise.

”It better be … I made it myself… “

Matt’s response brought a hesitant smile to her face.

”You.. you’re a .. baker… ?”

She queried looking at him properly for the first time.

”So this is … ?”

She looked round and Matt supplied the answer telling her he had brought her to his bakeshop, digesting this information just as she digested the bread.

”Soup’s hot … fresh made… “

He coaxed watching as she finally reached to spoon some of his soup to her lips.
Again the silence as he watched her ladle less than half of the bowl’s contents before returning once more to pull the bread to pieces and bring it slowly to her mouth.

”What do you do … for a job I mean?”

She halted, distracted then continued her steady eating.

”Do? … nothing… “

She responded.
Matt nodded in pretence of understanding.

”He doesn’t like me to work … doesn’t let me … I keep house and… “

She paused and pushed away the juice taking up the coffee.
She curled her hands about it and sat calmly whilst Matt moved the tray to a table close by her.
She sipped as she drew her legs towards her in a gesture he was starting to recognise.
Matt struggled to keep the conversation light.

”So… where are you from… originally I mean?”

She looked up at him and echoed his words as if struggling for comprehension.

”From…? Ohh… England … but I haven’t been back since… “

Again she bent to sip from the mug, the thread of conversation lost.
For long minutes there was silence.

Finally she finished the drink and Matt accommodatingly reached over to take the mug from her.
Unexpectedly she caught his eye and gave a sudden smile, surprising in its warmth and spontaneity.

She looked him up and down, curious it seemed for the first time.

”Who are you? Why did you bring me here?”

She asked.

”I’m Matt… “

He began but was interrupted.

”Are you arresting me?”

He looked at her. She seemed already to have forgotten that he was a baker.
But the assumption troubled him.

”No … why should anyone arrest you Jessie?”

He queried carefully, watching her lean down to pick up her juice.
She smiled at him calmly and took a sip before answering.

”… because I killed him … “

She stated in level tones.
She did not see him stare as she continued to drink at the glass; oblivious it seemed to Matt’s observation.
Rather than being distraught, she was now completely unemotional, detached.
She held the empty glass and smiled at him distractedly as he reached automatically to take it.

”What’s your surname, Jessie?”

She did not pause before answering.

”Clarke … Jessie Clarke … “

She informed him.

”Can I go home now?”

She requested politely, awaiting his response.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“If that’s what you want,” Matt replied, thinking at first that the sooner he got her out of here the better. Then he thought of what they might find when he got her there. A murder scene swarming with police and questions. But he had nothing to fear. He had found her bloody and dazed on the street, helped clean her up, that’s all. “Jessie, you need a lawyer more than you need me.”

But as he sat there beside her on the couch, a strange thought came over him. He had never seen his shapeless linen uniforms look so good. She hadn’t buttoned the shirt up past half way and the upper curves of her breasts jiggled just within his view. The pants couldn’t hide the gentle flair of her hips nor the supple shape of her long legs. He shook his head trying to shake those thoughts, yet when she looked over at him, her large dark eyes appearing more lucid now that she had rested and had something to eat, he began to wonder about her.

“You’re sure you killed your husband?” he asked in a soft low voice.

“Yes … I did … at least I think so …”

“You think so?” Matt said. She seemed so balanced now. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“He … he came at me … smacked me hard in the face … I fell onto the bed … crawled to the nightstand and pulled out the gun he keeps there … then he … he lunged at me and I shot him … his body falling pushed me back against the bedside cabinet … knocked me out I guess … when I came to I hardly knew where I was … I stumbled downstairs and found him laying on the floor in his study … he was dead …”

“All right then,” Matt said holding his forehead for a moment. “Why don’t you finish up and when you’re ready, I’ll drive you home.”

She set the glass of juice down on the tray. “Thank you,” she said softly with a sweet smile.

Matt rose from the couch and left her alone in the office. For Christ’s sake! He had just a few things to finish, then he could leave for a short while with Christy running things. “Christy!” he called out as he neared the front of the shop.

“Shhh!” she hissed, putting a finger to her lips. The sound of the morning news crew they listened to each day was crackling the air.

“Found dead in his home in the exclusive gated community of North Hills Estates from a shotgun blast to the stomach was financier Eric Davies. There was evidence of a forced entry but neighbors on the scene claimed not to hear anything. Police are on the scene conducting their investigation. In other local news …”

“Can you believe that?” Christy exclaimed. “Of all places.”

“Huh, what do you know?” Matt said thinking over what he had heard. As he began to unload the remaining loaves of bread and the apple turnovers from the ovens he thought over what he had heard. Something didn’t add up. He was right, the sooner he dropped her off the better. Wiping his hands hurriedly and lifting off his apron, he turned to Christy. “I have to run out for a few minutes. You’ll be okay won’t you?”

“Sure, no problem,” she replied. “Looks like it’s going to be a slow morning anyway. Why? What’s up?”

“Just got something to do, that’s all. I won’t be long,” he said, then went back to his office.

Jessie had set the tray up on his desk and was looking at his odd collection of photos and nonesuch hanging on the wall. From the rear she surely lent a completely different shape to the white linen uniform.

“Hi,” she said turning to look at him over her shoulder.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

She nodded. Matt looked at his watch. An hour and he should be back. He took a deep breath and grabbed her bag of bloody clothing. An hour. No more.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jessie sat in the car, her mind running.
She was confused.
Confused by what she remembered.
Confused by this man’s … Matt’s questions.
She looked up and realised that without prompting he had turned the car towards her side of town.

”You know where I live.”

It was a statement rather than a fact.
He answered shortly, concentrating on the driving she assumed.

”Sure … North Hills Estates … right?”

She nodded.

” … right … “

She echoed.
Years of practice had trained her not to ask questions.

As they neared her neighbourhood, Jessie became restless.
She strained her eyes to catch a first glimpse of the drive and yet her complexion was paler, as her anxiety grew.
She looked up with a start as she felt his hand on hers.
At first she flinched under the expected touch, but when he squeezed then stoked her hand, she turned a confused expression to him and forced a smile.

”It’ll be OK… I’ll make sure you’re OK … “

He murmured reassuringly.
She nodded once more, unconvinced, but at least felt that someone was even remotely on her side.

She didn’t know what she had expected, but it wasn’t this.

As they drew round the drive, the police cars, single ambulance and officers patrolling the street made her gasp.
Though there were no sirens, everywhere blue lights flashed.

”Good God … “

She whispered hoarsely.

The car halted, unable to approach closer, Matt wound down his window.
She heard him explain that he had Mrs Davies in the car and saw the officer look in and give a curt order for him to wait there.
Before she knew it, Jessie was out of the car.
She only half heard the shouts of the officers and of Matt.
She pushed past the cones and the tape and walked steadily, as if sleep walking, towards her home.

She didn’t hear Matt giving rapid details of the state she was in when he’d found her.
She didn’t hear him shout her name.
She broke into a run and was actually hurtling up her own drive when strong hands caught her and pulled her round.

”Jessica Davies?!”

She looked scared as hell and nodded reluctantly, throwing a longing look at her open front door.

”You can’t go in there yet.”

She was curtly informed.

”But my husband… he doesn’t know where I am … he’ll be so angry if … “

She broke off suddenly.
Tears ran unheeded down her face.

Finally the man let her go.
She rubbed her arms, a gesture more out of habit than because he had truly hurt her.

”Mrs Davies… "

His tone was gentle, cautious.

"... you know your husband’s dead, don’t you?”

Her eyes widened, a denial springing momentarily to her lips.
She then nodded woodenly.

”Yes..”

The officer echoed her nod, reassured that she had not lost her reason.

”Do you know who was responsible?”

Again the nod.

”Yes… “

The officer’s eyes opened in surprise, then he concealed his expression.

”I think you need to sit down.”

She allowed herself to be led to an ambulance, a blanket to be draped round her and primary checks to be carried out.
All the time her eyes were locked on the sight of her house just beyond.

She was not aware that Matt had been speaking to the Detective in charge and informed him of her story, that she believed that she had murdered her husband.
He related the details rapidly and handed over the clothes to be sent off for forensic investigation.
Finally the Detective, accompanied by Matt, arrived to question her.

”Mrs Davies…Jessie…?”

She looked up and smiled weakly at the second attempt to gain her attention.

”Mr Burton tells me you believe you killed your husband…”

Jessie looked round confused and then noticed that the man was pointing to Matt.

”Yes. I shot him.”

The man's expression remained impassive.

”What did you shoot him with, Jessie?”

Again she looked up, wondering why he didn’t just arrest her.

”With his revolver … he kept it in the drawer.”

The man looked at Matt, but seemed unimpressed.
Jessica looked from one to the other.
Her voice rose as she responded.

”You don’t believe me? "

She asked incredulously.

"This is crazy! Tell him Matt."

She looked over at Matt and then back at the man questioning her.

"He was beating the crap outta me again and ... I couldn't take it any more ... I couldn't stand ...
Before I knew it I'd got the revolver out of his bedside drawer.
I just wanted to warn him off .. but ...
But he laughed and said all those things ... and he kept coming ...
He lunged at me and ...
And ... I shot him."

Matt moved to put a comforting hand on her arm.

”Jessie … “

The detective frowned.

”If you don’t mind…”

Matt sighed, exasperated urging the man to just tell Jessie the truth.

”Did you see him fall, see him bleed, see how badly he was injured Mrs Davies?”

Jessie put down the half empty cup.
She looked up confused as she tried to remember, to explain.

”I don’t know …exactly … he knocked me into the cabinet … I .. blacked out… when I came round he was dead… I knew I’d done that to him… “

She began to sob softly.

”So much blood. I went to him… tried to help him but … he was all shot up … I was covered in it … but he wouldn’t stop bleeding … I couldn’t do anything so .. I took the gun ... I don't even know why ... and… I couldn't look at him any more ... I left… “

She wrapped the blanket round herself and began to cry softly.

”For God’s sake!”

Matt exploded.
Prompted the Detective turned to Jessie.

”Mrs ... err … Jessie… “

He waited until she looked up.

”Whatever happened between you and your husband, you did not kill him.
As a matter of fact we found the bullet lodged in the wardrobe.
It never even hit him."

She paused and then continued carefully.

"Your husband was killed by a shotgun, fired at close range in the stomach.
He would have died instantly.
I’m sorry I had to put you through that, but … it was necessary.”

He glanced over at Matt and signalled for him to follow.

”We’ll get you another drink and see if we can call someone for you.”

He spoke to the sobbing woman as he called over a female officer, then striding away with Matt in his wake, he moved to give several orders to another of the murder team before turning back to Matt.

”What the fu… “

Matt began, but the Detective raised his hand.

”Before you start, I had to make certain.
Not certain that she didn’t do it, but certain that she saw nothing.
Why do you think we didn’t report her missing?
If the gunman or men were aware that she might have witnessed something, just how safe do you think she’d be Mr Burton?”

He watched as Matt considered his words.

”She may remember more later, when she’s less distraught, she might, most likely have been unconscious the whole time and not be able to help identify our murders.
Either way, I need to get her somewhere safe and quick.
We don’t know who might be watching the scene.
I needed to gauge just how much danger she’s in.”

Without further comment he turned and made his way back to Jessica.
He addressed her without preamble.

”Your husband’s body has been taken away, Mrs Davies.
We need to hold the body initially and then we can let you see him later, if you wish.”

He watched her eyes fixed on her house.

” … but I’m afraid you can’t enter the crime scene at present.”

Jessie opened her mouth to protest, but was interrupted by his brusque voice as he continued.

”Now … who can we call… someone you can stay with … a friend of yours preferably and not your husband’s…”

Jessie looked up confused.

”I .. I don’t have friends here … just my husband’s colleagues … he didn’t let me…. There .. . there’s no one I can go stay with … no one I want to be with.
All my friends are back home… England… “

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

He watched closely as the burly detective talked to Jessie. The look of confusion and disorientation he had seen earlier was returning. He had told his story to everyone who asked and kept looking at his watch. It had been well over an hour and he still didn’t feel as if he could leave. He needed to get back, but then, just as when he had first seen her standing on the bridge, he couldn’t just leave her there.

“Are you sure there’s no one you could stay with, a personal friend or someone from work?” the detective asked.

“I … I don’t work … ” she said vacantly. “Not anymore …”

“Are you sure there’s no one?” the detective asked. He looked over to the female officer who simply shrugged.

“I don’t have any extra space since my mother moved in, Andy,” she replied.

“Fuck!” the detective swore. “We need to get her out of here ASAP people,” he barked out.

“She could stay with me,” Matt blurted out. “I have room.”

The detective turned toward him and eyed him suspiciously. “Do you know this man, Mrs. Davies?”

Jessie looked over at Matt and nodded almost imperceptively. She clutched at the blanket wrapped around her.

“Where do you live Mr. Burton?” the detective asked.

“Over in Castle Gardens,” he admitted, feeling somewhat out of place since his home was anything but a castle, certainly compared to the palatial homes where Jessie lived.

“That might work,” the detective said, and then talked in hushed tones with his partner.

“I’ll … I’ll need my things,” Jessie said softly.

“We can’t release anything from the house until forensics is finished, and that could be several hours,” the detective replied.

“But I …” she began to say but Matt cut in.

“I can lend her some things until then,” he offered.

He spoke further with the detective and the other officers before finally leading Jessie away from the scene. He wasn’t sure where this was headed and really what it involved. Offering my place as a safe house isn’t the smartest thing I’ve ever done! he thought. But he looked over at her and she looked so lost and alone, he couldn’t but help her out.

He helped her out of the car and up inside his house, a modest three bedroom brick ranch in a cozy little neighborhood, very much out of the way. He showed her the guest room and where to find the bath. He pulled out a clean shirt and some old jeans for her to change into if she needed and set out an extra robe on the hook.

“You’re in luck seeing that I went to the grocery just yesterday, so there’s plenty to eat in the fridge,” he told her. She had followed him about as he showed her around, but now stood at the doorway to the kitchen and leaned against the doorframe. He stepped toward her and looked into her eyes. “Will you be all right here? I have to get back to my store.”

“I’ll be … fine,” she replied.

The next thing he knew, Matt had wrapped his arms around her slender shoulders. He wasn’t a very huggy type, but she looked like she needed one. At first she almost leaned away from him, but keeping his touch gently, he felt her arms soon slip around his waist and she rested her head against his shoulder.

“I’ll be back soon,” he told her before leaving. “What ever you do, don’t answer the phone. It may only be my ex-wife and you don’t want to have to talk to her, believe me.”

As he floored the accelerator of his Jetta, Matt thought over what he had just done. Now you’ve done it, Burton, he said to himself. Fuck!

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke (Jessica Davies)

Jess had been afraid when Matt had moved towards her and wound his arms about her, but his touch was gentle and strangely comforting. She could not remember the last time someone had hugged her. Her arms moved to his waist, but she did not press herself against him. She merely allowed her head to rest on his chest. Even that gesture showed weakness, she admonished herself!

She was relieved, therefore when he drew away.
Relieved only that it saved her from losing control, breaking down.
That was something she had not allowed herself to do in many long months … years maybe… she just couldn’t remember.

Jessie stood and watched him drive away, feeling strangely desolate and abandoned.
She walked back through the house, retracing the steps Matt had taken as he showed her round. The place was homely, lacked a woman’s touch, but felt comfortable … safe … it reminded her of her place back in England. She moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. She saw an array of food there, but merely poured herself some juice and sat at the counter sipping it slowly.

What did she feel?
Eric was dead. She hadn’t killed him, but she felt responsible.
Was she upset? Was she relieved? She knew she ought to be.
Her life and become a nightmare, but it was a familiar routine.
And the routine injuries she could live with … it had just been that night.
He had been so angry with her… just because of that phone call.
She had not understood what she had done wrong … but she knew he was incensed with rage.

She shuddered and moved to rinse the glass and put it on the draining board.
It was she who should be dead now, not him.
After all, what use was she now?
She had barely been of use to him. She knew that.
He had told her often enough.
All in all she had proved a disappointment to everyone.

She walked, robotic and dry eyed through the house to the room, which she was to be allowed to sleep in. She ran a hand over the jeans and shirt.
He had shown her where the bathroom was. She needed a bath, she decided.
Pulling "her" robe off the hook, she walked to the room and turned on the taps.
She did not even think to close the door, much less lock it.
Her husband had never permitted her any kind of privacy.
To shut let alone lock doors was alien to her.

She peeled off the white garments and folded them neatly in the corner as she watched the water fill the tub.
She did not think to add oils or foam. She did not want to touch his things.

Gratefully Jessie sank into the tub, the hot water closing around her aching body.
She looked down impassively seeing livid bruises standing out on her pale skin.
The gash on her head had healed over and did not seem as bad as it first appeared.
She knew she’d blacked out, possibly had mild concussion, but she had suffered that before.
Finger marks formed smudged patches on her upper arms.
Her torso was a rainbow of discolouration, many old injuries, layered on top by more recent angry marks.
Jess did an impassive inventory.
Nothing to worry about there.
She barely saw the injuries any more.
She had already forgotten the welts on her back from the previous week.
The scars she bore were … normal … deserved …

Reaching for his shampoo, Jess carefully cleansed her scalp and rinsed away the suds.
Rising from the bath, she allowed herself one small towel to wrap around her head, other than that she took nothing.
The robe would suffice.
She wrapped it around herself and let it soak up the heated dampness of her body.
She then bent to pull out the plug and rinse out the bath before moving along the corridor to “her” room.

Again leaving the door open behind her Jess sat on the chair and slowly towelled dry her hair. The rhythmic motion lulling her, reassuring her, giving her an occupation, something to prevent her from thinking.
She was so terribly tired.
Dare she lay down?
How long would Matt be away for?
What should she do in his absence … other than dress?

Wearily, she moved to the bed and lay down upon the mattress.
Her head sank into the soft down pillows.
Her hair a cascade of red tresses on the white bedlinen.
Her damp robe clung to her body.
Jessie shivered, but made no move to slip between the bedding the bed offered.
Despite her initial discomfort, the warmth of her body dried both skin and fabric.
She curled her feet up into a foetal postion and without realising it let her eyes flutter closed.

Soon Jessie was lost in a deep exhausted sleep.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“So where have you been?” Christy shouted out to him as he stepped up to the counter.

“I’m really sorry, kiddo, but I had something important to take care of,” he mumbled and started helping the next person in line.

The shop was busier than normal and he could see the Christy was not real happy. But he didn’t mind the rush since it took his mind off his houseguest. It was more than an hour later when he had a thought beyond serving his customers. He was contemplating making a new batch of sourdough bread when Christy came up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

”So what’s her name?”

“Huh? What?” he said defensively.

“Ahh, so it is a woman,” she laughed.

“What do you mean?”

“You suddenly dart out of here in all a hurry saying you’ll be right back,” she said moving along the counter, restocking the bins of cookies. “Then you don’t come back for hours. Sounds like a woman to me. Just don’t smell any perfume.”

“You know that there’s no woman in my life right now,” he said starting to pull the ingredients for the bread.

“Yes, I know,” she sighed, looking on at him.

“We’ve been through this before,” he said. “For one, you’re too young for me and two, you’re my employee.”

“But I could always quit,” she giggled.

“Arrrghhh!” he grunted, which only made her laugh the more.

“I was just teasing,” she giggled. “Now I’m going to take my long delayed lunch break. They have a sale on new spring shoes over at Zwindle’s.”

“Go on, ahead,” he said and watched as she slipped out of her smock and left. In between the smattering of customers, Matt plunged himself into his work again.

But during the moments when he was alone, he began to think about Jessie, wondering how she was getting on. Maybe she had something to eat and slept. She probably needed that, just a warm quiet place to rest and recover. His mind swept over the details that he had learned and the pieces that didn’t fit. At one point while the mixer was kneading the dough, he paused and wondered, what’s to become of her?

Probably when the case was solved she would return to her home in the UK. But that could be a couple of years and in the meantime she would need a lawyer and money. Given that she didn’t work and the house they lived in, he figured that her husband was loaded. Ah well, just take it one step at a time. There was dough to finish turning into bread, cookies to bake for tomorrow, the order for MacKinnon’s restaurant that had to be ready by five o’clock and that occupied his mind so much that he didn’t even notice when Christy returned, bearing a large shopping bag.

“Ooo, I just have to show you these,” she squealed, opening up one of the shoeboxes. “Aren’t these just adorable?” she said holding up a pair of high heeled sandals.

“Yeah, real cute,” he said absentmindedly.

“Just be that way, Mr. Grumpy,” she said putting her things away and slipping back into her smock.

The rest of the afternoon went quickly. With Christy’s help, the order for MacKinnon’s was ready early, everything was put away and made ready for the morning, and Christy finished wiping down the tables and arranging the chairs by five-thirty.

“Tell your woman that I said ‘hello,’ ” she teased playfully as she stepped out the front door.

“Hey!” he called out. “Watch that talk!”

Then she was gone and he closed up, counting up receipts and making his bank deposit ready. Then he thought again about Jessie Davies and realized how long it had been since he left her at his place. He locked up and sped over to the bank and then home.

When he stepped through the front door, he listened first for signs of life. Hearing none, he figured she was probably resting and went to look in on her. When he looked through the open door to the guest room, he saw her in the robe he had given her, asleep on the bed. Her legs were splayed open, and the robe had been parted completely except where the belt held it together at her waist. At first look he thought, my, god! She’s beautiful! The auburn hair, the long legs, the slender curves, the sweet cleft of her …. He caught himself and moved over to the bed and sat beside her gently, not wanting to disturb her.

As Matt pulled the robed closed, covering up the luscious curves of her breasts and smooth folds of her sex, he noticed the bruises marring her pale creamy skin and the scratches on her chest and face. He felt a revulsion well up inside, not toward her certainly, but toward the one who had done this to her. Matt had never believed that anyone deserved to be shot, but if her husband had done this to her, maybe he was the one who deserved it.

Matt thought about reaching over to move her legs into a more dignified position, but then decided to simply rise up and leave. Before doing so, he couldn’t resist the impulse to reach over and look over the wound on her head. He brushed the hair away from her forehead. What really happened to you, he thought, to bring you to my door like this?

Suddenly her eyes popped open and she glared up at him. Jessie closed her arms over her chest and her body scooted away from him.

“It’s okay, I was just looking in to see how you were doing,” he said, quickly getting up from the bed.

Her hands pulled the robe tightly around her frame and cinched the belt snuggly.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie (Clarke)

Jessie did not notice the passing of time.
She slept long and deep.
She had not slept the night before and all the trama had left her exhausted.
Besides, with mild concussion, sleep was probably the best thing.
At least it allowed her to escape from the reality of her situation … temporarily.

For the most part, her sleep had been untroubled, dreamless.
What exactly made her stir finally she was unsure, but as her eyes fluttered open she saw him close to her, leaning over her.
”God .. no.. not again…”
The thoughts sprung automatically to her mind as she glared upwards praying that her defiance would reroute his demands.
Quickly she scooted to the other side of the bed and pulled her garments, no her robe around her.
She did a quick calculation... a robe ? ... No ... that didn’t make sense.

“It’s okay, I was just looking in to see how you were doing,”

Her attention snapped back to the man who had spoken.
Seeing the newly familiar face, relief flooded through her,
a relief that was immediately overtaken by horror as she remembered the events of the past 24 hours.

”Matt…? … Ohh… th.. thank God.. I.. I thought you were him.. Eric .. my… “

She stuttered, trying to explain and failing miserably.
How could she tell him that when she had awoken with a man leaning over her she had automatically assumed…

”He used to …. “

She stopped and shivered.

” … do a lot of things… wake me up sometimes … and… “

She cut herself short and looked up at him, her eyes silently questioning.
She was in his house, had accepted his hospitality.
Only now did it occur to her that he might want… something… in return for his … kindness thus far.

She swallowed down her fear and asked tremulously.

”What time is it? … I – I just had a bath … hope you didn’t mind … I was so sore so … but … I didn’t touch anything …. Then I came to bed … I must have slept the whole time… Should I dress … ?”

She was so timid, so unsure. Everything about her was so fragile, broken.

”As soon as my things come I’ll pay you for anything I use … I have money … I didn’t expect you to … to do this … to ...“

Her eyes followed his slow approach and noted that he sat on the bed before gently easing towards her.
She remained still, but watched him minutely, knowing that any minute he could …
She shivered in fear as tears sprang to her eyes.

”I.. I’m sorry … “

She said meekly rubbing childishly to quickly erase the tears as she braced herself for his reply.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“It’s all right, Jessie,” he replied. “After what you’ve been through don’t feel like you owe me anything.”

“But I …” she began to say.

“It’s enough for me to be able to help you,” he insisted, taking her hand. Again she shied away from him for a moment. “Now I’m going to fix something to eat. Are you hungry?”

She nodded timidly. Matt smiled and arose from the bed. Jessie looked like a frightened child curled up on the bed, her large eyes looking at him warily. He went to the kitchen and looked through the fridge. Nothing was fresh, nothing was thawed out but it was getting late. He was never elaborate when cooking for himself, but now he had a guest to think of.

Matt found a couple of frozen chicken Cordon Bleus in the back of the freezer and popped them in the oven. He began a pot of rice and set up the steamer for some broccoli he had on hand. By the time he had a small pan ready to whip up a cheese sauce, the smell of the chicken was beginning to waft through the house.

He wandered back toward the guest room and saw the door still open. When he looked in, Jessie was standing by the dresser, her robe lowered off her shoulders examining herself. There were welts on her back that he hadn’t remembered seeing when she had changed that morning. One looked particularly nasty and he thought of some ointment he kept in the medicine cabinet. Grabbing the tube, he returned to the guest room. Jessie seemed unmindful of his presence until he drew close to her. Then she pulled her robe up and tightly around her body.

“No. Wait,” he said, looking at her eyes through her reflection in the mirror. “Your back … looks bad. Maybe this will help,” he said, holding up the medicated ointment.

Silently, almost as if robotic, she loosened the belt of her robe and slipped it down from her shoulders. Matt squeezed some onto the fingers of one hand and began to gently apply the cream to her welts. She winced at first, but as his touch warmed, she began to lean back against him, and he could see her eyes close. When he had finished, he noticed the bottle of skin lotion sitting on the dresser. He picked it up and began to apply some cream to those parts of her back that he hadn’t touched, working up her back until he reached her shoulders.

Except for the marks on her back, she had the most marvelous skin, soft and toned. As he moved closer, he could see that her robe had fallen away from her breasts and the faint pinkness of her aureoles was plainly visible. He thought of looking away but couldn’t take his eyes away from the sight of her tender flesh jiggling from his touch.

“Dinner will be ready soon,” he said, smelling the meal cooking.

Jessie’s eyes opened and she stood motionless for several moments, exchanging a glance with him in the mirror. There seemed to be something in her eyes, just a warm flicker of something, and the faintest ripple of a smile on her face. As he was leaving the room, he could see her lift her robe back up to cover herself.

He was puzzled and intrigued by her behavior. It must be due to her past and the abuse she must have suffered. He wondered about her husband. Just what kind of creep would have done that to her? As he thought, he finished the meal and got it on the kitchen table, and stood back proud of arranging the table so appealingly.

“Dinner’s ready!” he called out and then pulled out a bottle of an old Colombard that he had been saving for some long forgotten reason. Then he remembered. She’s English. They drink tea, don’t they? So he got a pot going on the stove and rummaged through the cupboards for an Earl Grey that was probably the freshest he had on hand. By the time the tea was ready, Jessie had walked to the kitchen, still dressed in the thin white robe. “You have your choice of wine or tea to drink.”

“Tea … please,” she said hesitantly, taking a seat at the table.

“Help yourself, Jessie,” Matt said, pouring her a cup of tea and him a glass of wine and sat. For several minutes they were silent, dishing up the meal and beginning to eat. Jessie had taken only small portions of everything. As the silence grew longer, Matt finally spoke up. “So where in England are you from?”

“London,” she answered softly. “Near London actually.”

“Born and raised in Chicago,” he told her. “Lived here ever since college. When’d you come here?”

“Four years ago.”

“What about school?” he asked.

“I went straight from school to university,” Jessie replied. “Then worked for a couple of years.”

“I went to Wisconsin, but you can see where that got me,” he said with a laugh. “What kind of work did you do?”

“Advertising and public relations for a couple of years, till I married …” Her voice trailed off sadly. “Art was always my love … I wanted to be a painter at one time … long ago … before …”

”Really?” he remarked, glad to hear her say more than a handful of words at a time. “Photography is my love. When I was a kid I wanted to be chief photographer at Life magazine, but then that went under so here I am.”

When their plates were empty, they cleaned up quickly and Matt excused himself to his room to change into his running togs. When he came into the front room, Jessie was standing at the wall where he had some of his best pictures hung, arms folded over her chest, examining his work. He hadn’t realized how short that little robe was, falling down not far from mid-thigh. Since the lights were bright and the drapes wide open, Matt tugged the drapes closed.

“I like to go for a run before bed,” he said as he approached the front door. “Sort of helps me sleep at night.”

He watched as she moved from one picture to the next. “This is very good … nice composition,” she said pointing to one.

“Thanks. I won’t be long. Just make yourself to home,” he said and then closed the door behind him. The night air was warmer than he expected and he wished he had brought a water bottle with him. Following his usual short course that wound through his subdivision and the neighboring one, he looked up at the darkening sky, thinking about Jessie Clarke. She obviously needed help and he felt foolish to think that he almost had driven past her on the bridge. What if the wrong kind of guy had stopped? He wondered what he could do to help, maybe nothing. Maybe it was for the authorities to sort out. Maybe send for her relatives.

With his mind racing a hundred miles an hour, Matt almost ran past the road that lead back to his street. His throat was parched and he was sweating profusely, his t-shirt and skimpy little running shorts sticking to his body like a second skin. He went straight to the fridge for something to drink and pulled out a bottle of water. He found Jessie curled up in the plush upholstered rocking chair in the living room, the chair rocking back and forth slowly. Her head was leaning against the back of the chair, eyes closed. Her legs were folding up onto the seat of the chair, her pale legs bare up to the curves of her butt.

“Hi. I’m back,” he said softly. Her eyes opened lazily then widened, sweeping him from head to toe and back again. He looked down and saw how his clothes were stuck tightly to his body and felt almost naked to her gaze.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jessie had watched him leave.
She resisted the urge to call him back.
It was ridiculous. After all she did not know this man and yet, she was reluctant to be on her own. She sighed and wandered back through the house and stood uncertainly in the kitchen. There seemed very little to do. She wiped down the table and then folded the towel neatly. She leaned against the sink, temporarily lost in thought.

He had refused payment, stated that he was pleased that he could help her.
She didn’t understand why, but she was grateful.
He seemed to care.
He didn’t seem to want or expect anything from her.
Again, Jessie couldn’t understand why or how that could be, but she accepted it.

She walked back through to the front room and stood looking at his photos again. Landscapes mainly, some buildings, few people she noted. She liked how he used light and shadow. She had loved sketching using charcoal, monochrome portraits and sketches, shape and form … She smiled. It had been so long since she had thought about anything like that. Everything in her life seemed to have happened so long ago, as if to another person. Even the confused events of the previous night seemed unreal somehow.

She crossed the room and eased herself into the rocking chair. She had loved to play on the swings as a little girl. To rock back and forth, humming a tune, singing to herself. She used to do that for hours. She had been a loner, but content to be so. She was popular, but much too fond of reading or drawing to be one of the crowd.

She looked round the room. It was decidedly masculine, but she found she liked it like that. Eric had had their décor designed, bought in. Her house was luxurious, but so impersonal. Certainly nothing in it defined what she was. She had gradually allowed her personality to be erased from their home and from their life. Just how she couldn’t remember. Gradually at first and then step-by-step she had been absorbed, become part of Eric. Whatever she had been in her own right had disappeared. And almost as if he sensed that, sensed that he had cut her off from “the outside world”, the abuse began …

Jessie stood abruptly, trying to shake her thoughts. She didn’t want to think about it.
Matt must think she was so stupid, so weak, so …

But Matt had treated her so differently.
He had cooked for her, chatted with her, listened to her as if what she said was worth hearing.
But of course he didn’t know her.
Didn’t know enough to know what she was really like.
If he did, he wouldn’t be wasting all this time and effort on her.
But he would realise … sometime soon… and then what…?

Time and again Eric had told her that people get what they deserve.
She hadn’t questioned or challenged him.
She had merely let him.
And so she realised he was right.
And even if occasionally she felt that she didn’t quite deserve all of it, she knew that she had allowed it all to happen.
She couldn’t change the rules now.
It was all too far gone.
Such had been her life, until now…

”Ohh damn… “

Jessie brushed at the tears that had fallen unheeded down her cheeks.
If only things were different. If only she could be … different ...

She curled up in the rocking chair, squeezing her eyes shut.
But she could not forget the feeling of Matt’s hands on her back, her shoulders.
He had been so gentle as he rubbed the ointment and then the lotion on the welts.
Despite her intial fright, she found she had enjoyed his touch.
To feel relaxed and soothed by a man’s touch was completely alien to her.
It made her wonder if Eric had ever touched her lovingly, let alone erotically.
All she could remember was rough, possessive and violent treatment at his hands.
Matt’s touch had stirred a distant memory she couldn’t even place.
A reaction so far buried she was barely aware.
She murmured sleepily, only just realising how much she had missed that kind of contact.
No matter how much she knew that she didn’t deserve it, Matt’s kindness had awakened a longing to be touched, held, cared for…

In sleep she escaped her reality.
A slight smile curved her mouth as she dreamt of warm, loving hands touching her body gently, soothingly. Her dream was innocent and did not go beyond reliving the gentle touches she had enjoyed earlier. She murmured softly as she moved in time with the hands, the chair rocking gently keeping her in her semi-conscious state.
Without her usual caution, Jess stretched in the chair, her head falling back as she gave a small moan, her breasts hardening without her being aware.

She did not hear him come home.

“Hi. I’m back,”

She smiled at the sound of his soft voice and then frowned.
Something didn’t fit. He had been with her, but no .. he…
Her eyes opened slowly, the smile curving her mouth turned to a silent gasp.
Suddenly reality hit home.
She had dreamed about him, she had imagined…
Her cheek pinked from arousal and embarrassment.
In the same moment, she realised that he was leaning over her, his body hard and clearly outlined by the clothes, which stuck to his body like a second skin.
She flushed more deeply and made a breathless reply.

”Ohhh.. Matt… good run..?”

Her mind reeled in the effort to find reality once more, even as her eyes moved to become riveted to the modest bulge in his crotch, a bulge she saw growing as he noticed where her attention was focused.

Jessie wrenched her gaze away, focusing on her lap.

”Ohh.. God… I’m sorry … “

She muttered in hasty apology.
Without thinking Matt put his hand out to touch her arm lightly.

”Jess…it’s ok.. I mean … I … “

The situation was totally unexpected and extremely awkward.
Matt had been completely taken about by the look Jessie had given him as she awoke and she in turn could not ignore the evidence of his cock straining against his running shorts.

He watched as she kept her head bowed.
She seemed too ashamed to meet his eyes and unwilling to risk catching another glimpse of his arousal.
He knew the easiest thing would be to go and change and ignore the “incident” completely, pretend it hadn't happened ...
But as he looked down, only able to see her riot of lose auburn hair, he found that he couldn’t do that.

”Jess… please…. “

He stroked her arm gently and moved to kneel down beside her in an effort to see her face. His expression anxious, he moved his hand to Jess’s chin as he gently eased her head up bringing her eyes level to meet with his expecting to see fear, shame, tears …

Jessie allowed him to draw her head upwards and compliantly raised her eyes to Matt’s.
Matt stared as he saw her smile and return his gaze steadily.
He watched her eyes dart over his face, taking in his worried expression, but was surprised to see her generous lips broaden into an amused smile.
He noted her still pinked cheeks and watched her jade green eyes dancing with humour.

The sound of her giggle was totally unexpected.

Did her realise just how much she trusted him to feel safe enough not only to laugh at herself, but at their shared “predicament”?

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

Standing beside Jessie, who sat in the rocking chair, he hadn’t expected to see her focus her eyes on his crotch. And he hadn’t expected that his manhood would uncontrollably respond to the warmth of her gaze by beginning to grow erect. But most of all, Matt hadn’t expected to see her smile, the most emotion he had seen in her since they met. What was there about her tousled mass of curly auburn hair and the arch of her brow above her dark green eyes?

His first thought had been to turn and go change from his sweaty running outfit, but instead he squatted beside the chair and lifted her face to look at him. He wondered what was so funny. Was she laughing at him, sprouting an erection like an eight-grade boy called on to recite to his class? Or was it some sort of nervous confession at being caught eyeing him in such a way with her husband barely cold? Or was there something else?

“What? What is it?” he asked, glad to have his erection now hidden from her view, though the act had little effect on his stiff member.

She smiled and shook her head slightly, bringing herself to sit up in the chair, an act that let the parting of her robe shade farther down the jiggling curves of her breasts making her own stiffness more apparent. Maybe this was it, maybe she had been dreaming of something—surely not him, and certainly not the creep who had beaten her—and he had caught her in the midst. Either way, the touch of his hand on her chin and the look in her eyes had produced a change in their mood.

Matt began to laugh. It started as a smirk, was fueled by her giggle, then set to a blazing laugh that spread between them. When it had subsided he got the distinct impression that neither of them remembered exactly what had been so funny.

“Well, I’m going to shower and head off to bed,” Matt said. “Baker’s hours, you know. Will you be okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “But I’m awfully tired. I could use some rest.”

Almost as if pulled by the same string, they rose together and Matt headed off to the shower. When he had toweled off, he pulled on a pair of pajama pants and walked back toward his room. As he passed the guest room, he saw that the door was open and glanced in. Jessie had just slipped off her robe and was slipping naked between the sheets, unmindful of his stare. She had obviously brushed her hair, making it soft and flow gently past her shoulders. He waited until she had settled and pulled up the covers to enter the room.

“I’ll be leaving early to tend the store,” Matt said coming to stand beside her bed. When her eyes swept up and down him again and settled on his crotch again he realized that the thin cotton of the pants did little to conceal his manhood that had awakened again at the sight of Jessie climbing into bed. He sank to the bed turning his hips away from her, making sure to keep his distance. “I’d offer to take you with me, but I guess you need to be here when the police bring your things.”

“Yes, I should,” she said softly, her charming accent making him smile. “I’ll be fine. You needn’t worry.”

“Well, I can’t help it,” he admitted. “That’s just the way I am. Don’t answer the door unless it’s the police and don’t let them in until they show you their ID.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she said with a smile, pulling the covers up close to her chin.

Matt smiled. In the warm glow from the lamp on th enightstand, he could plainly see the shapely outline of her body beneath the soft blanket and sheet, an observation that did little to alleviate the throbbing between his legs.

“Well, then, goodnight!” he said. Leaning over toward her, he brushed her hair back from her forehead and planted a light kiss. This time, she didn’t shrink away from his approach as she had before, in fact she raised a hand and rested it against his bare chest, her fingertips combing through his light dusting of chest hair.

“Goodnight,” she answered.

“Sweet dreams,” Matt smiled, quickly rising from the bed and heading off to his room. He saw the light snap off her in room.

He set the alarm and turned over onto his favorite side for sleeping. He lay awake for several minutes thinking over this crazy day and all that it brought. When thoughts of the coming day started to keep him awake, he took a deep breath and just thought of the girl, Jessie Clarke. The last things he heard before falling asleep were faint sounds of her stirring in bed.

After sleeping for a couple of hours, Matt stirred. He thought he heard something and lay still. Definitely hearing something, he opened his sleepy eyes and thought he saw something moving by the door to his room. He sat up in bed.

“Jess?” he called out softly. “Is that you?”

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

“Sweet dreams,”

Jess watched Matt slip out of the bedroom and switched off the light.
She smiled to herself.
The awkwardness of their “predicament” had been totally diffused.
Neither had commented directly on their “reaction” to each other, but she hadn't felt obliged to make excuses or apologies.
"They were adults and it was one of those things,"
Jessie thought as she dismissed the incident.
Her arousal came from fantasy and his … well he’d been running and …
There was any manner of explanations, she assured herself.

Besides, she had nothing to fear from Matt.
Despite the stirring in his body, she knew Matt didn’t think of her like “that”.
To her he was much more … paternal.
She giggled softly as she remembered his lecture about not opening the door and his goodnight kiss on her forehead.
She refused to think about the feeling of his warm skin and soft hairs beneath her hand as she had reached out to him.
Turning over she snuggled down.
She felt safe, warm, relaxed and although she’d done nothing but sleep she was oh so tired …

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Whether a dream woke her, Jessie wasn’t sure, but she opened her eyes and sat bolt upright. Something was wrong … something nagged at the edge of her mind and yet it eluded her. She pulled the covers around her as she sat up in bed trying to remember … then suddenly it hit her …

”Ohhh… God … “

She whispered.
It was just an idea, a possibility, but … it would make sense … surely..?
She’d been so wrapped up in the guilt of killing Eric and then the confusion and relief when she’d discovered she hadn’t that she hadn’t given real thought as to who his murderer might be.

She staggered out of bed, without thinking.
Her stomach turned with the shock of it.
She needed a glass of water.
She needed to get to her house, get her things, get the hell outta this country before…

She stumbled in the dark passage.

“Jess? Is that you?”

She paused, trying to regain her sense of direction.

”Jess? Are you OK?”

She heard him move, saw the pool of light that radiated from his open doorway, highlighting her naked body as she stood in the shadows.

”I … I wanted some water … I … “

Matt was out of bed and drawing her into his room.
Jessie looked at him unconcerned by nakedness.
Her face was ashen, her eyes wild.
She barely noticed him throwing something loosely about her shoulders, but she was reassured by his closeness.

”Shhh.. Jess… what’s wrong… bad dream…?”

She shook her head trembling as she sat on the edge of his bed.

”I … I think I might have an idea who killed Eric … not a name… but I know ..something was going wrong in my husband’s business dealings … at least ….”

Matt rose and made to leave.

”I’ll get you some water … just a minute … “

But Jessie continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

”This one guy … he kept phoning the house … while Eric was away … he became a nuisance… I … I finally told him not to call until Friday, that Eric wouldn’t be home before then … I didn’t think anything more about it … but … “

She paused then continued.

”When I told him, Eric was livid. I hadn’t seen him that angry with me before. But… he also seemed … I don’t know… scared … nervous…? ….
I think that’s why he really lost it with me.
I guess I deserved it. If I hadn’t said too much then maybe …. “

Again Jess retreated into her own thoughts.
She ran an agitated hand through her hair, dislodging the cover he had drawn around her shoulders.
Was it coincidence, she wondered?
Had she spoken to her husband's murderer?
And if so ... ?

For the first time she realised that she herself could actually be in danger.
And the thought scared her!

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“Then you should go to the police with this,” Matt said, responding to her words and their meaning. He began to think of the consequences. If she had remembered this about the murderer, the murderer would be capable of remembering her. Suddenly his neat little house felt exposed and vulnerable, sticking out like a swollen thumb on a carpenter’s hand. “Perhaps when they bring your things by, you should tell them.”

It was all starting to make sense and his mind raced madly. He scantly noticed that she had brushed the robe from her shoulders. The authorities would have to sort through her husband’s associates and find this guy before he found Jessie. In that pursuit, Matt felt incapable. But he could help Jessie, he could be there to support her, he could be the friend and companion to her that his ex-wife had often told him that he could never be.

Matt then became aware of Jessie’s nakedness. The bruises and welts and marks and scratches on her body only amplified her vulnerability. Though on some base level he may have desired Jessie and certainly under almost any other circumstances he may have made some sort of overture, her general helplessness and innocence was triggering an opposite reaction. He pulled the robe up around her shoulders again and felt her body shake. He half expected her to cry, but she didn’t. She sniffed but tears did not fall.

“I … I’m … I’m scared, Matt,” she said haltingly, her wide green eyes reflecting that feeling.

“It’s all right, Jessie,” Matt said, wrapping his arms around her, pulling her toward him. At first she felt hard and unresponsive, but as he continued to talk to her, her arms moved around him and she began to soften up and fit into his embrace. “You’ll be safe here. Whoever that may be, doesn’t know me, doesn’t know you’re here. We’ll tell the police what you remember and what you know. I’ll look after you, Jessie … you’re not alone … I’ll be here with you … I’ll be here for you.”

Matt rocked gently as he held her, hoping that the warmth of his body would help chase away her fears. She rested her cheek against his shoulder, then repositioned herself and pressed more firmly against him. They remained close for many minutes until his own sleepiness began to catch up with Matt.

“Now why don’t we get you back to bed so you can try and get some rest?” he offered. Matt placed his hand under her chin and lifted her face toward his.

“Can I … may I … stay here … with you?” she asked.

“Um, okay … we can do that … sure,” he replied. Matt pulled the covers away so that she could slip her long legs between the sheets. Holding the covers with one hand, he lay back and offered his open arm as a pillow for her. Jessie let the robe slide off her shoulders and nestled her naked body beside him. He pulled the covers up and felt her settle in the warmth of the arms he folded around her. He could feel her blanket of soft auburn curls on his shoulder, her moist breath on his neck, the firm flesh of her breasts against his chest, the heat of her sex on his hip, and her leg drawn up and resting on his thighs. She shivered for a brief moment and then wiggled her body, making herself more comfortable.

“Thank you, Matt.” She spoke in a soft sleepy voice that made him tighten his arms around her just a bit. He closed his eyes and tried not to think of what lie ahead for them, for that would surely have kept him up the rest of the night. And he also tried not to think about the effect that having this beautiful naked woman sharing his bed was having on his manhood. No, sleep, Matthew, sleep ...

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jess knew she had to tell the police.
She knew too that she would have to try to stay clear of her own house as much as possible.
Part of her wanted to go “home”, just because it was familiar, but it wasn’t safe.
It had never felt “safe”.
Before it hadn’t been a safe haven from Eric and now it wasn’t a safe haven from the world threatening her.
She snuggled closer to Matt and squeezed her eyes shut trying to blot out the fear.

Matt had said that he would look after her, that he would be there for her.
He had told her that she wasn’t alone.
Even when she had asked if she could stay with him, he had opened up his bed to her.
She didn’t understand why, but she was too paralysed with fear right now to reason it out.
For the first time in her life she “took”: Took the solace and comfort offered.
With a soft murmur, she buried her face against the warm flesh of his chest and
sighed softly. For some reason Matt made her feel safe.
It defied reason, but the warmth of his body and the warmth of his care lulled her and her terror-filled mind began to relax, soothe.
Despite everything, she fell sound asleep.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From somewhere near by, there were voices, music and the harsh sound that repeated and over again.
She battled to regain consciousness, but merely groaned.
Her body was pulled and rocked. She murmured in protest.
Then she was allowed to move back into her snug position again.

”Uuumm… “

She murmured pressing herself closer.
Her body was warm, cheeks flushed in sleep; her hair was loosely fanned out upon the pillow and the arm below her head.
And yet Jess was barely aware of the position in which she had awoken to Matt’s alarm that morning.
She did not realise that he was effectively pinned by her body as it clung to him.
Her leg was wound around his, her knee beneath his thighs, brushing against him as she moved it up and down to get comfortable.
Her naked body had been warmed by his,
her breasts pressed snugly against his chest.
A hand too laid against his chest,
the other tucked underneath her cheek as she dosed, unaware of Matt waking up beside her.

”Jess…. Jessie…. Jess… “

His voice was soft, coaxing as he tried to extricate himself without disturbing her.
His hand moved to her arm.
He accidentally brushed along the side of her breast as he tried to roll her away from him.
Oblivious to his difficulty she moaned softly at the touch and eased herself closer to him, her hips pushing against him in a gesture that could have been termed demanding … if she had been fully aware…

She sighed softly as she felt Matt’s touch as he brushed the hair back from her face.
She was barely awake. She was unaware of his eyes on her.
She was slipping rapidly back into the deep sleep she had been enjoying when the alarm went off…

For once she looked peaceful, unblemished, tear-free.
In that position, even the gash on her head and the faint bruising were barely visible.
He ran a finger gently across her sleep-flushed cheek.
She smiled, her lips curving then pouting, as if asking to be kissed.

”Mmmmm… “

Again she murmured in appreciation of his touch.

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

Matt knew he needed to leave. Shower and shave and get on to work in the wee hours as he had every morning for several years. But at this moment he hesitated. He looked down at the girl in his bed, this attractive, appealing girl, this very naked girl, and he thought, should I stay? Should I blow off the day? Should I go in late, or call Christy, or … or … or what? Matt didn’t know what to do. No, he did know what he wanted to do. He wanted to stay if only for a few minutes more. He wanted to hold this tender young woman, feel the warmth of her body, know that she was safe and protected before he could do anything else.

Why should he feel this way about a girl he didn’t know existed 23 hours before? Something about her had triggered something inside of him and he was lost in the balance. He slapped at the alarm, making certain that it would not buzz again. And he held her, wondering about what had brought her to this point, what kind of excuse for a man had been responsible, and what he could do to help her.

And then in a moment of clarity, everything fell into place. He could make it in a little later—he had proved that the day before—and once he got things set up in the morning, he could leave and help Jessie get her things, talk to the police, anything she needed. He could still make it back in time to get things ready for the next day, which was Saturday, a short day, and the shop was closed on Sunday. But for now he wanted to lie with her.

Matt’s hands moved gently on her back up to her shoulders and then down along her spine to her firm butt. Jesus, she had a sweet pair of cheeks down there! And with her leg crooked up over his, it was easy enough for his fingers to drift down along that silky crack between. But he didn’t. He brought his hand up over her back again, the edge of his palm feeling the fleshy curve of her breast as it passed. And then he felt it, the twitch and twinge down below, underneath his pajama pants. This was wrong … or was it? To be touching her so intimately wasn’t wrong. It wasn’t like he was trying to make her or something. He was only responding to something that he had no control over. So he moved his hands to a safer place, her shoulders. Non-sexual, non-threatening, safe.

Then she moved, her body shifted against him, firm breasts rubbing his chest, her warm moist sex pressing against his hip, her legs weaving further within his. And as her thigh moved higher over him, it came to rest on his crotch and he felt the soft tender flesh of her thigh press against his swelling manhood through the thin cotton of his pajamas. He wanted to reach down and guide himself to a more comfortable position, but before he could he felt her hand reach down and her fingers brush against him, pulling him up, straightening his cock so that it lay up on his belly. More comfortable yes, but also more capable of erecting. And when her hand remained resting on him lightly, it did. Greatly.

Matt thought of everything. Baseball statistics from the Yankees great 1961 World Series run. The Declaration of Independence that he had memorized years before. He thought of little old ladies in flowery print dress and sensible shoes. But nothing could change his state of mind. But he simply held her close for another hour, feeling the warmth of her body, the gentle touch of her hand, and the throbbing of his rigid underutilized cock. After an hour had passed, he began to shift and move away from her. She was sleeping soundly but stirred as he slipped away, rolling over onto her side and gazing sleepily at him.

“You going?” she mumbled.

“Yes, but not for long,” he whispered. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Mmm, I’ll be waiting,” she said dreamily.

He could have sworn that her eyes had focused on the great bulge in his pants as he slipped from the bed. Nah! She was sleeping or dreaming. But that thought lingered with him all through his shower and the drive to work and his entire morning routine. And when Christy showed up at her usual time, he was ready and waiting.

“I’m going to have to leave for a bit, okay?” he said, only partly a question.

“This is about a woman, right?” Christy said, shaking her head slightly.

“No … not really,” he said trying to find an escape. “I have to help a friend.”

“Right. A woman friend.”

“Go on. It’s Friday though, remember you need to sign a little thing called my paycheck,” she said teasingly.

“Thanks for the reminder,” Matt said as he went out the back. He glanced at his watch. He’d only been gone a few hours, but he needed to get back home.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jessie felt so warm, so secure.
She was half aware of Matt’s body wrapped around hers, but she merely murmured sleepily and allowed herself to enjoy his closeness.
The disturbance of the alarm was not repeated and so Jessie lay in blissful slumber, her body subconsciously reacting to Matt’s soothing touch as he ran his hands over her body.
Without realising it she touched him.
Her breathing was gentle and caressed his skin, even as her fingers grazed his throbbing manhood.
But she was unaware of the sweet torture she was subjecting Matt to, or just how fortunate she was that he had such a strong sense of honour.

Only when Matt began to ease his arm away from underneath her, did Jessie begin to stir.
Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled softly at him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to wake up beside him.

“You going?”

She whispered, her voice wistful, regretting that she was to be left alone in his bed.

“Yes, but not for long. I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded and smiled sleepily.
Rational thought did not enter her head.
She did not thing for a moment about the problems Matt might have reorganising his schedule.
Besides, she trusted him.
If Matt said he’d return soon, then she knew he would.

“Mmm, I’ll be waiting,”

Jessie stretched and repositioned herself as Matt gently moved out from under her.
She drew the covers about her cocooning herself snugly.
Briefly her eyes opened and followed his quiet movements around the bedroom.
His pyjamas bulged she noted, yet could not remember having his erection pressed against her earlier … but then she had slept so well ..
She smiled, dismissing the irrelevant thought and drifted back to sleep…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed much later when the telephone woke her.
Jessie stretched and struggled upright.
She smiled as she remembered she was still in Matt’s room, in Matt’s bed.
Then once again, the harsh ring of the telephone cut through the silence.
Slipping out of bed, she padded, down the stairs and to the lounge where the main phone still rang out.
She put out her hand and hesitated, suddenly nervous.
What if … ?

As she stood frozen in uncertainty, the ringing stopped.
The comparative silence seemed to almost tangible in the room.
Jess gave a sigh of relief.

Moving to the kitchen she crossed the room and took out the orange juice.
Pouring herself a large glass she sat at the table, aware for the first time of her nudity.
She glanced round and then realised that both her robe and other clothes were still upstairs. She decided to finish her drink before returning upstairs to make herself look respectable.

Then once again the telephone rang.

Ignoring it, Jessie went upstairs and resolutely closed the door on the sound.
By the time she had emerged, her body still damp from the quick shower, the telephone had become silent once more.

Automatically Jess returned to the room she had been given and pulled out the clothing Matt had offered to lend her.
There was no underwear, so the jeans chafed as she pulled them on.
Still she persevered, but they were too uncomfortable.
Discarding them, Jess reluctantly went back to Matt’s room and paused.
She knew she should open his drawers and see if there was anything she could wear that would cover her respectably should the police call by the house, but she was reluctant to pry.

Finally she saw his discarded pyjama bottoms laid a cross a chair in the corner of the room. She hesitated and then moved to pull them on. She caught her reflection and grinned. Bending to roll up the trouser legs, she pulled the cord and double knotted the waist. At least now the sagging fabric wouldn’t trip her up!

She returned to her room and took the shirt that Matt had given her to wear with the jeans. Slipping it on, she giggled as she saw how badly it fitted. Improvising, she gathered the shirt tails and bunching them up, twisted the fabric and tied it securely so that the fabric fitted securely just above the waist.
She eyed her reflection and rolled the sleeves high until she had shortened them to just above the elbow.

She reassessed her appearance critically.

They didn’t look bad together, although the garments obviously didn’t match!
She looked a mess, but at least she was covered and with the shirt tied and knotted, the material bunched up so that it made the lack of a bra slightly less obvious.

Jessie decided it would do.

Unsure what to do next, Jessie returned downstairs.
With a wary eye on the phone, she moved into the kitchen and decided that she was hungry.
Matt had said that he wouldn’t be long.
What time had it been when he’d left, she wondered?
She had no idea!

She turned to put on the kettle, an idea coming to mind.
On impulse, she opened the cupboards and started pulling out flour, eggs, syrups.
She decided she would make a pancake batter and that way if he were hungry when he returned she could fix breakfast … if he wanted … and if he didn’t mind …
It would be a small way of thanking him for his kindness the night before.

With sudden inspiration, Jessie decided to make a pot of coffee.
She knew that American men lived on that!
She pulled the ground coffee out of the cupboard and worked to set the machine in motion.

She was so busy bustling round the kitchen, making coffee, pouring out a mug of tea for herself and giving the batter a last beating that she did not hear Matt’s key in the front door.
She moved around the kitchen, a smile on her face, humming softly to herself as she focused on the tasks in hand.

Only when she turned in an attempt to find where the bin was concealed, a used teabag balanced on a spoon, did she finally notice him stood in the doorway.

She jumped with a gasp, feeling caught out somehow making free with his kitchen.

”Matt! … I .. I didn’t hear you come home…”

She looked round almost guiltily to where the jug of batter stood.

”Are you hungry .. I.. thought… “

She broke off blushing hotly, a self-conscious smile on her face …

"I made breakfast ... "

She glanced up at him through her lashes, trying deperately to quell the habitual fear that always rose up in her when she thought she might have done something wrong, when she knew that if she had Eric would punish her, severely ...
And yet the eyes she turned on Matt, although they held a tinge of that fright, met his bravely, hoping that her instinct had been right for once, hoping to see approval...

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

He stopped at the doorway, caught up by several thoughts. First was the surprise of seeing that Jessie was up and appeared to be making breakfast for him. The aroma of the fresh brewed coffee was wonderful. Then there was her pose, almost comical, half bent over, holding a tea bag in a spoon, as if looking for the trash basket. Of course the surprised look in her eye was matched by her voice tumbling over her words as she tried to explain herself. And then finally was the thought of how his shirt and pajamas never looked so good, the cheeks of her ass giving the pajamas a shape his could never do, her breasts filling his shirt fetchingly even as it was tied up around her waist. What was there about a woman dressed up in his clothes, especially something that he had slept in that night!

“Um, I think you’re looking for this,” Matt said, stepping into the kitchen and showing her the stainless steel container where he kept the trash.

“Yes, I was,” she replied, flinging the used tea bag inside and standing up beside him. They were close at this point, their bodies not touching but their eyes were.

There was something else flickering inside her gaze, something deep inside her that Matt couldn’t fathom. He had seen it a couple times before, as if for a moment she was thinking of someone else, comparing Matt to that other person.

“Everything looks so good,” he remarked. “I’m glad I brought my appetite back home.”

“It won’t take long to cook up, the griddle is already hot,” Jessie said with a smile.

And it was a pretty smile, the kind that he could get used to seeing … but he wasn’t going there.

“Maybe while that’s cooking, I can phone the police and make arrangements to see them.” She nodded and he went into his study to make the call. “Detective Sipowitz? This is Matthew Burton, the one who’s looking after Jessica Clarke … er, Jessica Davies. Yes. Right.”

It turned out that he and his partner were planning on coming by within the hour to drop off some of her things as promised. Matt mentioned in passing about Jessie remembering her husband’s business associate, and the detective seemed very interested. After hanging up the phone, he went back to the kitchen to tell Jessie. Understandably of more interest to her was getting some of her own clothes to put on.

“I mean it was nice of you to offer these things, but they don’t hardly fit my figure,” she remarked, modeling her makeshift outfit, turning herself this way and that.

“I don’t think anything of mine would fit you,” he said as they sat down to breakfast.

He watched the way she sat and the way she ate. There was something precise and formal and lady-like about her manner, back straight and square to the table, her hand resting carefully in her lap. They began to chat while they ate, nothing of consequence really, mostly general comments about the weather in the city and the way things had gone at the shop. They were nearly finished when the doorbell rang.

“That must be the cops,” Matt said, getting up from the table.

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jessie sat in the lounge listening to Matt opening the door and waving the police though to where she was seated.

”Good morning, Mrs Davies … “

The Inspector greeted her formally, almost managing not to do a double take as he took in her appearance.
Jessie curled her feet under her self-consciously.

”Have you brought any of my things, Inspector?”

He nodded and sat himself opposite her.

”We packed a couple of cases of stuff for you, Mrs Davies …”

He said smoothly noticing that she flinched each time he addressed her formally.

”You’re very organised, Mrs… Jessica … a couple of my female PCs put your personal things together and we sent on your handbag with ID and cards.
You should find life a bit easier now…”

Jessie nodded and thanked them, looking up as Matt came into the lounge.

”I’ve put everything on your bed Jessie … just put it all in the drawers and wardrobe when you’re ready, ok?”

The inspector looked over at Matt as he sat down.
Jessie looked up gratefully as she felt him sit beside her on the sofa.
The policeman who had entered the room behind Matt sat himself down in the armchair.

”So … I take it that Mrs Davies will continue to stay here … for the time being?”

He enquired looking at Matt.

”Yes. For as long as she wants.”

Matt replied firmly giving a reassuring smile to Jessie.

”Mrs Davies..?”

The Inspector was asking for her agreement.

”Yes. I’m staying here.”

She confirmed softly.

”Matt is all I have now …”

She commented realising for the first time just how isolated she had become.
The Inspector made no comment before continuing.

”Now … Mr Burton tells us that you remember an unusual call… several calls?
Could you tell us about them, Jessie?”

He prompted gently as she nodded.

”The week before… last week .”

She started haltingly.

”Eric was out of town, working away. That’s pretty normal.
He’s often away for days, up to a week at a time. I never know where he is, but during that time he always organises his messaging service to re-route his calls. He has a lot of deals going on at any one time … I don’t know who with or what … it’s just what he tells … told me… “

She stopped speaking, reality hitting home once again.

”But this week … you got a call for him..?”

She looked up once more.

”Ohh.. well.. yess … a call to his home office number.
Very few people have the number for that line.
Again, I couldn’t say who…”

She sighed and began to fidget with the fabric of her shirt.

”This guy rang 3 maybe 4 times over the course of 2 days.
I kept telling him that Eric wasn’t available, that he was working late on business … but he kept ringing.
I figured… ‘cos he had the number and ‘cos he knew me… that … “

She looked up as the Inspector interrupted.

”He knew you? How do you mean, he knew you ?”

Jessie shook her head as if only just realising.
She spoke hesitantly.

”Well… when I answered the phone, he called me by name … called me Jessica, not Mrs Davies … he … ohhh… “

She broke off, her body beginning to quiver as she remembered.

”He knew things … like … he mentioned a charity I support, the gala coming up this weekend … hoped Eric would be home for it ... one time he said that he wouldn’t keep me, cos he knew I was on my way out … I thought it was a general comment, but ... God… I never thought anything of it at the time… i assumed he was someone Eric knew well.
That’s why … why I finally told him that Eric would be coming home on Friday.
He didn’t ring back after that … “

She put her head in her hands and tried not to panic.

”Ohh… God … it’s all my fault isn’t it?
If I hadn’t …. “

She halted trying to stifle a sob …

 

[Miltone]

Matthew Burton

“It’s okay, Jessie,” Matt said, extending his arms about her, trying to comfort her and slow the trembling of her shoulders. “It’s not your fault … it’s nothing that you have done, okay?”

Matt lifted her head up and wiped away the tears that were starting to roll down her cheeks. He knew the detective was eyeing him but he didn’t really care. In the course of the world, Matt hardly knew this girl, but he felt for her and her situation. How someone could mistreat her and reduce her to blaming herself for something well beyond her control?

Yet he was torn, for although his approach and embrace to her was paternal, or so he hoped with the city’s finest looking on, there was something pulling him to her on another level. The response of his body to her looks, to the warmth of her presence, to the touch of her hands on him as her arms enwrapped his shoulders, was of a completely different nature. He felt for her, yes, but he desired her as well. He knew that feeling inside and that he must be careful … very, very careful, for her and for himself.

”Is there anything else, Mrs. Davies?” the detective asked. His partner began to fidget.

“No … that’s all I can remember now,” Jessie answered as her sobs began to subside. Zane reached a tissue over to her as he released her from his embrace.

“Then we must be going,” he said, getting up from his chair and snapping closed his notepad. “This information may be very valuable. Thank you.”

Jessie tried to effect a smile, but it was a brittle one that threatened to crumble easily.

“And be sure to let us know if you remember anything else,” his partner mumbled.

“We will,” Matt said, getting up from the sofa and walking the detectives to the door. “We appreciate you coming by like this.”

“Sure,” said the lead cop as he paused by the door his partner had left open. “So there isn’t any … uh, history between you two that we should know about, is there?” he said softly out of Jessie’s earshot.

“Of course not,” Matt protested. “Like I said before, I never saw her before the bridge.”

“Well, you two just sort of seem so cozy back there,” the cop stated coolly. “Not exactly like strangers if you ask me.”

“Look, Detective Sipowicz, I never saw her before yesterday,” Matt said, trying to control his voice and temperament. “The poor girl has no one to help her besides me. I know you’re probably used to seeing people ignore crime victims … bleeding in the street … but I’m not like that.”

“So the fact that she’s quite a looker doesn’t hurt either?” Sipowicz said, his demeanor muted and calm.

“No … of course not,” Matt replied.

“Kay,” said Sipowicz. “You know in crimes like this we have to ask all sorts of questions.”

“I understand,” Matt answered.

With a nod of his head, Sipowicz was gone and Matt closed the door behind him. When he turned about, he was surprised to see Jessie standing beside him. “Oh!” he exclaimed. “Didn’t expect to see you there,” he chuckled nervously.

“What was all that about?” she asked.

“Um, nothing, just routine questions,” Matt answered. He opened his arms as she fell into them again, pressing her warm soft cheek against his shoulder. For a moment her shoulders shook as if she were sobbing, but it soon subsided and they stood together embracing for what could have been several minutes. Finally Matt spoke up, “Now maybe I should help clean up the kitchen while you put your things away. I do need to get back to the shop soon.”

 

[DeliciousMaiden]

Jessie Clarke

Jessie moved to the doorway, aware that Matt and the Detective were still deep in conversation. When Matt turned round she eyed him nervously.
She wasn’t sure what the expression on his face meant.

“Oh! Didn’t expect to see you there,”

She smiled nervously, leaning against the doorframe.
He seemed defensive. She looked up uncertainly.

“What was all that about?”

She enquired softly, wondering if the Detective had said anything that would make Matt suspect or blame her for last night’s events.

“Um, nothing, just routine questions,”

She nodded, but was unconvinced.
Almost in answer to her unspoken questions, Matt opened his arms to her and without thinking she moved into them, sighing as she felt him hold her closely.
Jessie had no idea what had been said amongst the men as they left, but at least it hadn’t turned Matt against her!
Matt was all she had now, she realised.
And for some reason he had said he would see her through this…
She brushed impatiently at her face, finding that the tears had spilled over again.
She kept her head buried in his chest until she had control of herself again and then drew shyly back, looking up at him as his hands still rested on her arms.

“Now maybe I should help clean up the kitchen while you put your things away.
I do need to get back to the shop soon.”

Her face fell at his words.

”You’re leaving me?”

Blushing hotly, she drew out of his reach.

”I’m sorry … of course.. you have work.. I… I didn’t …”

She glanced at him quickly, but avoided his eyes.

”Leave the kitchen… it will give me something to do whilst you’re gone..”

Damn! She cursed herself again.
Why did she sound so clingy?

”I… I have to sort my things anyhow… see what the police managed to bring me … and … “

She couldn’t stop herself gazing towards the door, wondering if it would be possible to trace her to this address.
Wondering if the house was being watched.
But if that were so then surely Matt might be in danger too … ?

”Matt…”

She forced herself to look up at him.

”If… if that man … does intend to come after me .. then …
well.. if he tracks me here then … “

She broke off helplessly.

”If he gets to me … then… “

She shrugged dismissively.

”But… I don’t want to put you in danger …
Perhaps you need to think of that today… I have some of my things now…
Maybe the police can help me find somewhere “safe” until …”

She shuddered.
She didn’t want to be holed up somewhere on her own, but more than that, she didn’t want another death on her conscience.
If only she’d done something differently, said something, not said something …
Without waiting for a response from Matt, she moved along the hall to her room.

”I… I’d better go see what they brought… “

She muttered as she avoided his eyes.

It could be that she was just lonely and needy, but she suspected it was more than that.
Matt did not need her latching on to him... for any reason!
She knew that she were in danger of becoming too dependent on his presence, his hugs, his …

Damn. What kind of woman was she?

She berated herself knowing that she ached for him to hold her again.