Strong male hands sliding over my silken skin as others stroke and plunge. The air is filled with the musky smell of arousal and honeysuckle. One after the other they invade my body, fingers, mouths, toys, anything they can use to bring me into a screaming orgasm. My back arched, toes curled, fingers tangled in hair, breasts thrust high as they devour me. Who are they? I have no idea, I never see them, just know the pleasure they bring.
BANG!
“Jesus, Joseph, suffering Mary!” I need to fix that stupid mail box.
I can feel my body still vibrating with unfulfilled need. So, closing my eyes, I will myself back to that dream but my heart is pounding too hard, all I accomplish is frustration.
What’s the point? I scream into my pillow trying to bash that left over desire back into its box, until the next time I have that dream. And there will be a next time because it's a re-occurring dream. One I'm very glad I conjured instead of the nightmares my life is filled with. Rolling over I stare at the clock, it's trying to tell me it's eight thirty and as it's a Saturday. I don't have to be up for work, it had to be lying because there is no way I want to be up this early. No fucking way. I bury my head under the pillow needing sleep, ok, ok I admit it, it's not the sleep I need but the ending to that dream.
My body jerks to sitting position, sheet fluttering to my waist. It's my birthday! And that means.... “Whoooooo,” the words come screeching out as I throw myself from the bed and hit the floor with a rather satisfactory thud. “Have that you noisy bastards” I yell and jump a bit more feeling elated and childish. Well it serves them right, they keep me up till all hours, if it's not the head banging music it's the loud sex. Being an FBI agent, you’d think I would have more pull with the police but you’d be very wrong. They see me as... well I'm not quite sure what they see me as but it's not flattering. Twirling and jumping around a bit more to alleviate the tension thrumming through every fibre of me right now, I sing happy birthday to me. I'm not the world’s greatest singer but it does the heart good to sing out loud, or so my I'm told.
“Connie, Connie,Connie...” I sing after my rendition of happy birthday as I head for the shower. I'm sure she will be here any minute. How do I know? Because we are blood sisters and she hasn’t missed my birthday yet, nor I hers.
Fully awake and completely over that dream as excitement of a different kind fills me, I head for the kitchen. I might be awake but I still need my coffee to function on a human level. My steps are light, bouncy even, as I make my way feeling like a child on Christmas morning when all your wishes have come true. Never having had that experience I'm not entirely sure that’s what this feeling is but it has to be close.
The large brown envelope catches my eye first. So that's what woke me up! Scooping it up and I bounce like Tigger into the kitchen humming, yes happy birthday. With the coffee percolating I sit down to see what it is. The address is printed and formal. Tearing into the wrapping with excited fingers, it must be a birthday present. A leather bound book falls into my hands; its intricate designs are stunning, kind of Celtic if I had to guess, flipping it open, my fingers run across the well know hand writing of Connie. I feel my entire face light up in joy, she’s written me a story... typical, she has the best imagination I know, but as I read, I can feel my muscles releasing the smile and begin to frown. This isn’t a story it's her journal. Never, never has she ever let anyone read her journal. Dread twists my gut, what kind of mess is she in this time? And can I get her out of it?
Connie Sunshine Mayweather
Date : June 10th 2010
Dearest Josephine, I know that you must be shitting bricks right now, and I hope that I am fine when this reaches you. I'm sure there is nothing to worry about, but I wanted, no. Needed to document this. Things are very strange right now, I'm not really sure where to start or how to start... fuck why didn’t I write this out before committing to this book. If I could tear it out and start again I would but there is not time for that.
Shit, I don't even know if half of this is real!!!
Ok ok... so, it's near you birthday, I know because I have already lived through most of what is in this journal and I'm still around to send you this... I hope I'm there when you read but if I'm not Oh God Jose, what have I done? There is no easy way to say this.
I screwed up!!! You know me I'm a sucker for a fit body and a handsome face. Ok I'm stalling, coz I really don't know how to tell you or prepare you for what you are about to read.....
Are you dressed? If not go get dressed. I mean it!
Fiddlesticks..... remember our code word? I hope you do. Also our secret hiding place?
In fact STOP reading this and get out the house!!!!!!
I don't know why I didn’t say that first.
Get out. Get out now.
If they haven’t found you yet, they will soon. Cover your head and don't talk to anyone you don't know. SHIT even the people you do know might not be who they appear....
My heart was now firmly lodged in my throat, panic, pure unadulterated panic shook my muscles so hard it's a wonder I could even move. But I did. I grabbed my coat and baseball cap, shoved the journal into my duffle bag and left the house. Don't ask me why I did it, I'm not sure, maybe something in the way she sounded. The feeling of primal survival kicked me into responding immediately. She seemed scared and... well scared. Connie doesn’t scare easily, she was the one who protected me in the orphanage. She never backed down from anyone and now she was backing the hell away from something. Did that scare me? .... hell yeah.
I have never felt so alone, so utterly afraid in all my life. Ok that's not true either. Before I met Connie I was terrified of my own shadow but since then, I haven’t been this scared. What would make Connie write that? Mafia? Yeah probably. Whatever it was, she used our code word... A word we only ever used in extremely dire cases, usually it was me who initiated it. Never once did she use it. Not until now. Fiddlesticks - Duck and hide or take a beating...
Is it me or is everyone staring at me? Could they see my panic? Could they tell something was wrong? Very, very wrong! Were they able to smell the fear pouring off me? And just who are they? Who the bloody hell am I meant to be looking out for? Should have maybe read that bit before taking off at the speed of light, I guess.
My feet hit the pavement over and over, picking up speed with each stride as my panic grows. Sweat beading and rolling from my hairline down my neck and back. Faster and faster I walk, head down arm swinging with purpose. The sun is bright and already throwing heat at us at nine am. It’s going to be hot today. I keep up my pacing until I reach the bus shelter. Cramming myself into the corner so that I can see anyone that approached me, fingering the fastening of my bag. Do I dare take it out now? Was I being watched? Was I being followed? Or was I simply out of my fucking mind for listening to her? I could be drinking my coffee right now. In fact that exactly what I should be doing! This was absolutely ludicrous, fleeing my house; I wasn't ten years old anymore. I am a grow woman with a gun Damn it! Slinging the bag back onto my back I start for home. Don't get me wrong, my heart is still firmly lodged in my mouth but I gave up running a long time ago. Whoever they are should be running from me. Oh I forgot to mention... I have this thing, not quite sure what you would call it or how to describe it, so bear with me. About six months ago, I was on the job, tracking down drug dealers. To cut a long story short, he had a knife, swung it at me, but before I even had time to pull my gun he had sliced his wrist. Just stopped swinging it at me and calm as you like brought the sharp edge to his skin and sliced. How is this relevant? Well, it's relevant because of what I was thinking at the time, ‘scum sucking rodent, cut your own damn skin’ and it's exactly what he did. So who ever these bastards are that have scared Connie, they better watch their ball coz I'm gunning for them.
Unlocking the door, I slip inside, no point in inviting trouble. Closing the door firmly and ramming the dead bolt home – no sense in being careless, not when I still have no clue what that trouble is. Safe! I sigh. This is where I feel safe, not to mention where my coffee is. The smell hits me immediately and I'm draw to it, it's calling my name and settling my nerves.
April 1st
This is no April fool’s day, not for me anyway. Not with the shit I know to be true. Jose, I can't believe I'm actually saying this but... I'm in love, have been for about a month now. Yes I heard your intake of breath from here... lol... but it's true. If only I could tell you, tell you all the marvellous things that are happening to me right now, share these secrets with the one person I know would believe me. but I can't, so I'm writing it down instead, maybe one day you will get to see this, (when we are old and have no teeth). So I better start at the beginning...
Once apon a time.... ha ha ha (couldn’t help myself, but just wait. It really is that good).
I met this guy. (at a biker bar no less, the one on fourth street) Drakon – that's his name – and according to him it means Dragon. And boy is he a dragon in bed... I'm getting all hot under the ... ok you don't need to know all the details. Well not before I tell you about him and the others!!! Hmmm what was I saying? Right right, don't get carried away Connie.
Dirty blond hair, braided, hung down his back. The black leather gear clung to him like a second skin. Outlining a perfect (and I mean perfect) body. Sinful as well... sin. So me being me (you guessed it!) marched up to him and told him I wanted to fuck him three ways from Sunday... (that's what I said...) and that was how we met. I didn’t fuck him, he fucked me and kept me bed bound for three days... god damn that was the best three days of my life. But it didn’t stop there... His eyes.... they are like yours Jose, tri coloured only his has the brown round the outer rim where yours is in the centre. The main colour is identical though. Bright bluey green – jade if you like – Oh and did I mention he is a fey... yes, as in fairy.
The coffee went down the wrong way and I coughed it up my nose. Ok I'm not the one who has lost it, clearly Connie is using again. But the way she describes things it's like she really believes it. I really need to find her and help her. God, what if she’s in a ditch somewhere.
I take out my cell phone, why hadn’t I called her already? The phone rings and rings, not even her answer phone kicks in. Strange!
BANG BANG BANG. The coffee cup went flying with the first bang on the front door.
No I'm not scared, not anymore it just startled me that’s all. The only person it could be was Connie, and she was probably having a good laugh right now.
