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Night Fury: Second Act Part 7

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"I love you, Cat." I smile against his lips. He smiles, too, and then whispers, "I'm gonna marry you one day."

My stomach dips. I'm so happy I could burst.

He wraps his arms tighter around my waist and pulls me deeper into his lap. I feel the thickness of his erection right up against my most private place and sigh. I'm so wet. I want more but James won't let me.

He says it'll happen when it's meant to happen and we have no need to rush. We'll be together forever. We have a lifetime of lovemaking ahead of us. And it's going to be amazing.

We're becoming more and more desperate to see each other. Tonight, James has become so desperate that he's snuck into the church grounds, behind the building by the kitchen's entrance. We sit on the bench under the oak and kiss furiously. Frantically. As if this will be the last time we see each other.



Who knew it would be the last time?

Ironic, huh?

I bite the inside of my cheek. My heart pounds. I try something I've never done before.

Reaching between us, I gently stroke his hard length over his jeans.

His mouth parts, his hazel eyes close and he mutters, "Oh, baby."

That being all the encouragement I need, I become braver. My strokes become bolder, albeit jerky, but he seems to be enjoying what I want to give.

He runs a hand through his constantly chaotic light brown hair and lies back on the bench, allowing me better access. I stroke slowly but firmly. He lets me explore on my own a while before he places his hand over mine and grips himself so tightly I'm sure it must hurt him. He groans and bucks into our hands. His pace quickens as does his breathing, and just when I'm sure he's going to fall apart, I'm startled at the sound of someone behind us.

A growl, "Cat, what the f.u.c.k do you think you're doing? What's he doing here?"

Bob.

My heart pounds. I know I've f.u.c.ked up. Badly.

I jump off of James and he moves to stand too. He looks Bob in the eye and tells him, "I love her. I can't help it. She loves me too. We're gonna get married as soon as we can."

Bob glares at him. "Of course you love her. Every person that meets Cat falls in love with her." He sneers, "She's everything you're not. You don't belong together. You'll corrupt her. Then when you turn her into everything you hate, you'll leave and blame it on her too."

James shakes his head. "No. It's not like that. I really love her."

I stupidly add, "I love him, Bob."

Bob ignores James and looks down at me like he doesn't know me. "You don't know what you're saying. He's a f.u.c.king criminal, Cat." He runs his hands through his hair. "I don't f.u.c.king believe this. How long has this been going on?" Before I have a chance to answer, he places his hands up in front of him. "Don't answer that." He looks at me stone-faced. "This ends. Tonight."

My heart stops. "No."

Bob's jaw tics. "You listen to me, girl. You end it."

James steps forward. "Father Robert, I know this sounds crazy but-"

Bob booms, "If you know what's good for you, boy, you'll shut the f.u.c.k up. Right now."

James stops talking.

Bob utters in warning. "I'm serious, Cat. This is done. Finished."

The thought of losing James is enough to make me ill. I stand straighter and respond shakily, "No. I won't."

Bob stares at me for a few seconds before he mutters, "You think I'm not serious?" He steps closer to James. "How's this for serious?"

Bob pulls out his .357 magnum from behind him, aims it a hair's breadth away from James's forehead and pulls the trigger.

The shot echoes throughout the distance. Something warm splatters my face.

I gasp in shock as James falls to the ground, motionless.

My mind blank, eyes tearing, body trembling, I whisper, "No."

Bob stands there, looking down at James, huffing and puffing from adrenaline.

This is just a dream. I'll wake up any moment and see this was all just a dream.

"No." I look up at Bob and wail, "No! No, no, no, no."

I drop to the ground and kneel by James. There's a hole in his forehead and his eyes are open. He bites his tongue. His head lolls.

He's very much dead.

Not able to stand it, I let out a keening cry so pained I think that G.o.d himself hears me. I cry in hurt and heartache. I cry til I'm numb.

I feel Bob behind me. His hand touches my shoulder but I shrug him off. "I hate you! I f.u.c.king hate you!"

Bob stands back, allowing me distance. He stays quiet a long time, listening to me cry, before he tells me something I didn't know. "He wasn't just a drug dealer, Cat. He was selling women. Not just women but teenagers, close to your age. You know what his position was?"

But I don't answer. I don't want to know. Still kneeling, head dipped, my body shakes in silent sobs.

"He would break them in."

I don't know what that means. Bob obviously knows this so he explains, "His job was to have s.e.x with them, sweetie. He would rape them until they wouldn't fight back, then they'd be sold. I'm sure you don't want to hear it but I need you to know this. Whenever they fought back, he would beat the s.h.i.+t out of them. Beat them within an inch of their lives. Before you ask, I have evidence of this. A lot of photographic evidence." I cry harder. Bob utters, "He deserved to die, Cat."

The tears won't stop. I find it hard to breathe.

Before I can register what's happening, everything fades to black.

I blink away tears, look at Xavier and whisper, "He screwed with some dangerous people and got himself killed."

Xavier nods. We sit in a comfortable silence. He takes a sweet pastry out of the basket and hands it to me.

I lift my head and smile softly.

As he takes a bite of a croissant, he smiles back.

I nibble on my tart and think: Aren't we a pair?

Maybe Xavier and I have more in common that I thought.

Chapter Eleven.

Huff-puff-pant.

The long thin stick in my hands feels heavier by the second. I don't know how much longer I can do this. For an old guy, Bob has the stamina of a twenty year old.

Just my luck.

Although he pants, he holds the stick in one hand, circling me. He smirks. My eyes narrow and I want to wipe that smirk off his face using as much force as necessary. So I do.

Lifting my hand, I swing the stick down over my head so fast that I hear the whoosh of the wind as it cuts through it. Bob moves fast, but not fast enough. The stick comes down on his shoulder and he winces. If it were anyone else, an unprepared person, that shot could have been a kill shot.

I smirk back and then stick out my tongue. His body shakes in silent chuckles. He kneels as though catching his breath but the long stick he holds spins out and catches the back of my calf.

Lifting my head, I howl in pain as I'm taken down to the floor with a thud.

Sneaky, sneaky.

Still kneeling, he watches me through smiling eyes. Only Bob could beat the s.h.i.+t out of me and make me want to hug him.

I lift my head a moment before I raise my hand and wave my invisible white flag.

He chuckles out loud and moves over to me. Holding out his hand, he utters, "Great job today. Soon you won't even need sessions."

I couldn't tell you why, but as he says that, my chest pangs. Rather than show any emotion, I lie back on the ground, chest heaving and cover my eyes with a forearm. I don't want my sessions to end. If my sessions end, what time will I have with Bob? Just me and Bob. I suppose I sound like a whiny little brat, but Bob is all I know. He is my protector. My guardian. My role model. Sure, he could have been a better role model, but I say he did good with what he had. That he does good, still.

"So, how are things with Xavier?"

Bob sits by me and remains silent for a while, thinking before answering, "Another week or so and he'll be good to go on his way."

My arm flops down by my side. "And he'll be okay, you think? He'll stay away from drugs?"

Bob stares into the wall, not answering.

I close my eyes tightly and mutter a tired, "He's going to use again, isn't he?"

Bob breathes deeply and replies on an exhale, "I don't think he will for a long while, but I think it won't take much to set him off. The guy already has anger issues, that much is clear, but dealing with someone like Tomas is not an easy thing." He looks at me. "How long do you think you could go with someone ignoring you before you hit the wall?"

My heart aches.

I know Tomas doesn't do this intentionally but, yes, he doesn't listen. I like to think because he can't. He communicates in the only way he knows how.

Bob is right. It won't be easy.

If only they could stay...

As if knowing my thoughts, Bob rubs my arm before standing and leaving me to my thoughts.

"Tomas, you need to keep real still for Ari or she might cut you."

Tomas keeps his head still but his arms flail under the smock. I know he can't help it. He seems to need to be moving in some way all the time. So I do something I haven't done since I was a little girl. I move to stand in front of Tomas, and take his contorted hands in mine. I smile and start softly, "Patty cake, patty cake, baker's man, bake me a cake as fast as you can..."

Tomas smiles a crooked smile and it spurs me on. I sing louder, making the movements between our hands bolder and sillier.

Obviously, we can't do it like any other people do, so I pat our hands onto his knees and make motions myself. I feel stupid. Really stupid. But it's making him happy. And I'm sure he's thinking, 'Wow. You look so d.a.m.n stupid.'

Ari laughs sweetly while she continues to work. She places a hand on Tom's shoulder and says full of humour, "I think we should have found a way to record this, oui?"

To our amazement, Tomas jerks his head around. It doesn't look like much, but I'm sure this was a nod. He was agreeing with Ari.

Rather than show how shocked I am, I clear my throat and drawl, "Thanks a lot, Tomas." I wink at him. "I thought we were friends. I wonder who's going to hook you up with those chocolate eclairs you like so much now that we aren't friends anymore."

He smiles harder and points a kinked finger at me.

I feign surprise. "Me? Me, you say? But I thought we weren't friends?"

He shakes his head slowly.

My eyes narrow. "You wouldn't be trying to make friends with me just for my ability at sourcing eclairs, would you?"

Smiling hard, Ari removes the smock and announces, "And we are done! Here. Let's get you up."

She helps him stand and walks him over to the mirror. She gently strokes her dainty hands through his newly cut hair and asks, "What do you think? Better?"

Tomas stares at himself for a long while. Just as my heart begins to sink at his reaction (or lack of) he turns and places an arm around Ari's neck. She hides her surprise well, hugging him back in turn. When they pull apart, she leans down into his face, gently taps his nose and whispers, "You're so welcome."

A small knock at the door has us all turning.

Xavier watches Tomas with a blank expression on his face. Tomas lowers his face and walks out of the room. Xavier's brow furrows as he watches his brother walk back to his room without a word spoken.

The tension in the air in tangible. You could cut it with a knife. Ari and I watch Xavier bite the inside of his cheek and drift off far into his mind. He grips the doorframe with both hands and puffs out a breath. "What am I doing wrong?"

He sounds miserable. My heart clenches. I'm not sure what to say so I keep quiet.

Ari, on the other hand, clears her throat. "You know, Xavier, when I was growing up, my father was absent. He had brought trouble to himself. My mother loved him regardless. But he was trouble." Her accent thickens as she speaks. "He was a good man, but he did some bad things. He eventually was arrested and he died in prison."

I blink over at Ari.

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