The Virgin Duet(12)
I’ve always had lots of anxiety about keeping a schedule and to-do lists. It’s my mind’s way of keeping control, and something I’ve always needed. Growing up, I had very loving parents, and I always knew my father loved my mother very much, but I never understood the depth of it. I think I was seven years old the first time I caught on. My mother wanted to go to the store to buy some chocolate chips to make pancakes and my father refused. I remember thinking that was really strange. Why couldn’t she go to the store? My father wouldn’t let her leave the house. Instead he made her kiss him and say over and over that she loved him.
The next time I remember something strange was on my ninth birthday and my mother was late getting back from the bakery with my cake. My father made her put the cake down and go to the bedroom with him. I heard all kinds of noises, and would later realize they were having sex. When my mother came out of the room, her face was red from crying and she was limping.
By the time I was fifteen I knew what was happening between them. My father was so obsessed with my mother that he abused her sexually as punishment. I saw the way he looked at her. Like she was up to something, and he needed to know what. My mother was beautiful, and married my father, who didn’t have much money. I think he always worried she would leave him for someone who waved bills in her face.
As the years went on, I felt like I had no control over the situation. The only thing I could control was me. So I became an excellent student and graduated at the top of my high school class.
By the time I turned eighteen, I’d saved enough money from mowing lawns and doing yard work to put a deposit and six months’ rent down on an apartment three hours outside the city. I had everything in place to save her. I had it all planned out, and I was going to finally set her free. Then it all went to shit.
“What the hell?” I say to my phone as I see Rebecca’s tracker moving. I stop. I don’t know where she’s going. I watch the phone for a few minutes and decide to wait and see what happens. I don’t want to jump to conclusions. Maybe she just forgot something at the store.
After about twenty minutes the tracker stops moving and I look up the address. “She’s at a club?” I say aloud, and I start pacing. It only takes me one lap before I’m grabbing my suit coat and hitting the elevators. I can’t stand the thought of her in a place like the Palms. That place has a reputation for being a dump full of drug dealers and junkies.
As I wait on the elevators I consider the possibility she went there for drugs. I shake that thought off immediately. Rebecca wouldn’t do that. I’ve watched her for months, and I see how hard she works. She was never late, always willing to pick up shifts. I checked all of that before I asked her boss about her change in behavior. But I knew it the first moment our eyes connected. She was pure. My little fairy wouldn’t do that to herself. She’s looking for protection and guidance, not trying to harm herself.
What reason could she have for going there? I flip through my mental lists, and can only come to one conclusion. Her brother.
I had my cop friend pull some records on this ‘brother’ of hers. I wanted to know what kind of obstacles were standing in my way, and it turns out I was right to be cautious. He’s been in and out of foster homes and juvenile detention since he could raise his middle finger. From what my source tells me, he’s got himself in debt up to his eyes with a drug dealer named Nico, who I know has ties to the bar my fairy is at right now. I don’t think Rebecca has any idea it’s as bad as it is. I’m just hoping it’s a coincidence she’s going to a club Nico’s family owns.
Hank is waiting out front when I exit the building. It’s going to be a nightmare getting across town in traffic, but it's the best option I have.
I slide into the back seat and watch my phone as we slowly creep down the street. Her tracker isn’t leaving the building, and that both agitates and worries me.
I try to calm myself, and think about last night. When I walked into the house it was completely silent. My dinner with the clients went well, but I was ready to get home and talk to Rebecca. The clients ended up wanting to have more drinks and I didn’t want to send up any red flags by rushing out. So by the time I arrived home it was after midnight. My anxiety peaked at not being able to get home when I said I would, but I was able to control it by focusing on who I was coming home to.
I walked into the bedroom and there was a soft glow coming from the nightstand. I walk over and see a Tinkerbell alarm clock and try not to laugh. I have no idea where it came from. She must have had it in her purse or something. It was quite fitting. Then I looked over and saw her in my bed, and my heart stopped. At first I was surprised to see her, and then I felt relieved. This is where I wanted her to stay and I was glad she wanted to be here too. I never specified where Rebecca would sleep when giving her the tour, but secretly I had hoped she would end up in my bed. I’ve never slept with a woman, even in the ‘just sleeping’ sense. So when I saw her there, I was surprised that it didn’t trigger any panic, it just felt right.
She was in just my white undershirt and the covers had bunched around her ankles. Her short hair was a colorful mess, and her cheeks were pink with warm sleep. She looked so young like that. Too young to be making my cock hard. I looked at her curvy body stretched out and I couldn’t help myself. I reached my hand out and let my fingertips lightly trace down her bare leg from hip to calf. That was all I would allow myself. I knew if I had more, I wouldn’t be able to stop.