I was glad they went to bed early. It gave me a chance to gather up my weapons.
I went through the house looking for anything I could use. I didn’t have much. I had a baseball bat belonging to Ethan. I had knives from the kitchen. I had a golf club that had belonged to my ex-husband. I hoped that would be enough. Actually, I hoped I wouldn’t have to use them at all. I hoped that Bernie would forget all about me and hoped even harder that he would move away. If he didn’t, I would undoubtedly have to. And I didn’t want to leave. That would mean leaving Owen. We were just getting started, and I would hate to have things end that way.
I put the golf club beside my bed. It was lighter and I figured I could swing it more efficiently. Then, I put the baseball bat in the living room, hidden beside the couch. If I had to, I could get to it quickly, and it couldn’t be seen by anyone other than me.
I scattered knives throughout the house, hiding them where no one would be able to see them. I also had to make sure there weren’t any that could be accidentally found by the kids. Each time I hid one, I walked away, and then turned and ran past it, grabbing the knife from its hiding place as I ran by, just to make sure I could do it easily. I hid all the knives but one. I carried it with me from room to room.
I had just finished testing the hiding spot of the last knife when someone knocked on the door.
I peeked through the curtains on the door to see who it was before blindly opening the door. The memory of Bernie trying to force his way in after beating on the door was still fresh in my mind. Opening the door without first looking to see who was on the other side was a lesson learned the hard way, and a mistake I wouldn’t make again.
I opened the door and smiled at Owen, happy that he was finally here. I felt safer and more secure with him in the house.
For a second, I felt silly having hidden weapons all around. Then, I remembered the beer bottle.
31 Owen
My heart fluttered when Carla opened the door. She was even more beautiful than the last time I’d seen her. She jumped forward and threw her arms around my neck.
I pushed her away. Her eyes were wide in confusion. It pained me to think that I’d hurt her feelings, so I quickly asked, “What’s with the knife?”
She looked at the knife she clutched, as if she’d forgotten she held it. She led me into the living room. We sat on the couch as usual and she told me about the beer bottle. She quickly told me about studying self-defense and hiding weapons around the house. I know she was trying to make me feel better, and it did to a point. I felt better knowing she was smart enough to know she needed to do something to protect her and the kids. I felt better knowing that she had acted so quickly. I did not feel better about her living next door to Bernie, though. There was nothing she could do to make me feel better about that.
Except move. I didn’t want her to move.
I tried to act as if I wasn’t too worried about Bernie. I didn’t want to upset her any more than he already had. But in the back of my mind, I was already figuring out what I was going to do about this situation.
While she poured us each a glass of wine, I made my decision. I was going to confront Bernie tomorrow. I wasn’t going to allow him to torment her this way.
Over wine, I told her about the day at Jenson’s. It made her happy to hear that Jenson was nothing more than what he appeared to be. He was just a lonely old man. It made her even happier to know that he was doing so much good for the less fortunate. She admitted that she felt bad for thinking he had anything to do with any of the bad things that had happened. She’d never judged someone before like that, and would be more careful about doing so in the future. I assured her that she’d done nothing wrong.
We talked a little about the three deaths on the street, but before we got too deep into that conversation, her lips were pressed against mine.
“I can’t wait any longer,” she said breathlessly.
She led me upstairs and into her bedroom. I was just as eager as she was, but I didn’t want to seem pushy. I let her lead and pretty soon, it was me who couldn’t wait any longer.
She made love to me as if it were the last time. It crossed my mind that maybe she was afraid it would be the last time. Maybe she had hid her real fear from me just as I had hid mine from her. I hadn’t wanted her to worry any more than she was. What if she’d done the same for me?
I pushed that thought aside and put everything I had into making love to her. After all, in the unfortunate event that she was right, I wanted it to be the most magnificent moment of her life. The moment that would make all other moments seem dull in comparison.
Just in case.
32 Bernie
I dressed in my bar clothes again, taking care to not get my dick caught in the zipper when I fastened my jeans. It was aching severely now. But that was okay. I was getting ready to take care of it. Finally.
I couldn’t remember a time when my dick had hurt this much. In fact, I didn’t think there had ever been a time at all. Usually, I’d either banged someone or did myself by now and got rid of the hard-on. But this one had been with me a couple of days. I was beginning to think maybe I should’ve taken care of it before now. What if it hurt to do her? It didn’t matter. I’d push through the pain. I wasn’t about to blow my chance of banging the broad because my dick hurt. No way. She was going to get it no matter how much it hurt me. Besides, surely once I slipped it to her, the pain would go away.
Now I was worrying that maybe I’d blow my load too soon. What if that happened? What if as soon as I stuck it in her, I came? That would piss me off. I just had to make sure that didn’t happen. Of course, it had happened to me before. But I wouldn’t let it happen this time. No way. Not with this broad. I’d waited too damn long and suffered too damn much to let it end like that. Nope. I was going to have her and it was going to be good.
I’d been thinking of doing this all day. I’d barely slept this evening. I knew I was going to need my strength, so I’d downed a few cold ones and forced myself to go to sleep. Not touching myself had been more of a challenge than falling asleep.
I had no deodorant. I should’ve showered, but hadn’t. I didn’t care. I wasn’t really trying to impress that broad any more. She was throwing hints and signals to every dick on the street, so clearly she didn’t need to be impressed. She’d take it the way it was. Again and again. And she’d like it. She’d beg me for more. And I’d give it to her. I’d waited so long now I could probably give it to her all night long. She’d be begging me to stop before it was over.
I smiled at that. The thought of giving it to her until she begged for mercy made my already engorged manhood ache.
I had to hurry. I couldn’t take much more waiting.
I looked out the front door toward Owen’s house. I hadn’t seen him all day. Maybe he was gone. Or sleeping.
I went into the kitchen and guzzled a few beers from the fridge. I belched as much as I could before leaving my house via the back door. I didn’t want to belch as I was sneaking into her room and let her know I was coming. I wanted it to be a total surprise when I grabbed her and pulled her against me.
Taking a flathead screwdriver from a kitchen drawer, I slipped out my back door and across the lawn. There was no fence separating our yards, so I didn’t need to hop anything. Thank god. I wasn’t in shape at all, unless my protruding belly counted. Had there been a fence or any other obstacle, I would’ve taken the sidewalk right up to her front door.