The Marshal Pt 07

THIRTY-FIVE

"From alternators to xenon bulbs, brakes pads to washer fluid, Quick Stop has everything you need for your car, truck, or SUV," Britney said into the microphone.

"That's terrific," Joel said though her headphones. "Next line."

She changed her cue card. "When you need repair parts quick, make Quick Stop Auto Parts your first stop for all your auto repair needs."

"Let's try punching up the word 'first.'"

"When you need repair parts quick, make Quick Stop Auto Part your

first

stop for all your auto repair needs," she repeated, putting a little extra emphasis on the word.

He nodded. "That's perfect, Britney. Thanks. Let's take a break before we start Campbell Ford."

She pulled her headphones off and hung them over the copy stand before she picked up her water bottle and took a sip.

It had been a week to the day since Rob told her of her father passing, and she was slowly starting to recover her equilibrium. The combination of the passage of time, staying busy, having Rob doting on her before making slow gentle love to her and then holding her as she fell asleep, and his constant assurances that she'd get through it, that

they'd

get through it, all helped dull the sharp edge of her grief. Each day was a little better than the day before, and she was proud of the fact that she'd managed to get through all of yesterday without shedding a single tear. She still grieved over Dad, and thinking about him made her profoundly sad, but she was starting to accept her loss and no longer felt like she was going to burst into tears with every thought of him.

She stepped out of the recording booth. "Oh! I meant to tell you!" he said, grinning up at her from his control console. "I was watching CNN the other day and I saw a woman that looks just like you."

The cold hand of fear squeezed her heart. "Oh?" she asked, remembering what Missy had taught her.

"Yeah. The daughter of a gangster or something. I wasn't paying that much attention, but they flashed a picture of you up on the screen, or who I thought was you... I swear, you two could be twins."

"You know what they say, there's a double for everyone." She forced a smile. "Even you."

"Poor guy," he teased. Joel often made fun of himself by saying he had the perfect face for radio.

She forced her smile to spread a little. "Yeah."

"You're not leading a double life as some secret agent or something are you?"

She could tell from his tone he was razzing her. "Hardly. What you see is what you get."

"Yeah. Nothing exciting ever happens around here, especially to me, but how cool would it be if you were like this undercover super-cop who infiltrates gangs to take down the bad guys? That'd be so awesome!"

She began to relax slightly. He didn't know. "You read too many comic books. While you're at it, why don't you give me some superpowers too."

He chuckled. "Britney Hadley, and her super-secret crime fighting identity... Wonder Girl."

"Wonder...

Girl

?" she teased in return.

"Well, Wonder Woman is already taken." He grinned at her. "I have to admit, I'd still like to see you in a tight red, white, and blue spandex suit like she wears." She struck what she hoped was a heroic poise, her hands on her hips akimbo as she looked up and away into the distance, trying to nudge him away from the subject she didn't want to discuss. "Hubba-hubba!" he grinned.

She couldn't help but snicker. "You're a nut."

"Can I get a ride in your invisible jet?"

"Sure. When we're done here wait for me outside. It's parked right beside the door. You can't miss it."

"I knew it!" he exclaimed. "That must be why you don't like your picture taken, because you're either a superhero, a secret agent, an undercover cop, or something!"

He was grinning when he said it, so she knew he wasn't serious, but the conversation was moving back in a direction she didn't want it to go. She blew him a noisy air kiss. "Wouldn't you like to know. You ready to get back to it? I need to finish up and get going. My invisible airplane is idling while double parked outside."

He snickered. "Yeah. Campbell Ford next?"

"Sounds good."

She went back into the booth, shut the door, and took another sip of water before she put her headphones on so she could hear Joel's instructions. She watched him through the glass window that separated them.

He nodded. "In your own time."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to compose herself. She'd thought she was past that damnable news report. Joel was the first person to mention it since the day it aired, and she wondered how many other people she knew had seen it. There was nothing she could do about it, but having people ask her about it made her uncomfortable.

She took another deep breath and launched into her spiel. "Campbell Ford, Bangor's Ford superstore, is offering new F150s at unbeatable prices..." she began.

She spent the rest of the day hawking Fords, office supplies, wedding cakes, an automobile engine oil quick change place, and finally, a dentist offering a special on teeth whitening.

"That's it," Joel said. "Great work, Britney."

She removed her headphones and hung them up. Now Joel would work his magic to produce the finished commercial.

"Thanks." She opened the recording studio and stepped into the attached control room. "I'm out of here. I'll see you next week."

"Later...

Wonder Girl

."

She gave him a playful scowl, but as soon as she stepped out of the control room her smile disappeared. It worried her that he was still teasing her about an alternate ego. She didn't mind the teasing, but that line of thinking led back to him seeing her face on the television, which she didn't like. Worse, Bangor wasn't Wurth. Wurth might not divulge her secret if it got out, but if anyone in Bangor discovered who she was, there'd be no containing it. Hopefully she was far enough away from New York that, even if she were discovered, the

jopok

wouldn't find out about it.

Her Outback was no invisible jet, but it'd do to get her home. She left the station, and though she knew it was stupid, she couldn't help but watch her rearview mirror for signs of anyone following her. She saw nothing and no one suspicious, but she still sighed in relief when she pulled into their driveway. She retrieved the mail and drove the rest of the way to the house.

As the garage door rumbled down she began to relax, not realizing how keyed up she was until the tension began to drain away. She felt safe here, safer than she'd ever felt living in New York. Part of it was having Rob nearby, but another part of it was simply knowing that nobody would be able to sneak up on them. The only way to Rob's house was by the highway unless you wanted to hike for miles overland. No tough guy from New York was going to be up for that.

It was a bright, clear, summer day with temperatures in the low eighties. She opened the windows in the house to allow the breeze to blow through. Their house had air conditioning, but they used it only on the hottest, most humid days. She wasn't in the mood to do a lot of cooking, so she dug through the 'fridge to see what was available. She decided on Chop Suey Casserole, something she could throw it together with minimum fuss. She quickly browned the ground beef and onions before mixing in the remaining ingredients, and then poured it all into a casserole dish. She slid it into the oven and set the timer. It should be ready not long after Rob arrived home from work.

She poured herself a blueberry wine and sat in one of the comfortable Adirondack chairs on the deck. It never ceased to amaze her how a chair with no padding could be so amazingly comfortable. She sipped her wine as she stared at the lake, playing her conversation with Joel over and over in her mind. She kept waffling between

he's clueless and teasing me

to

he suspects Han Bo-bae and Britney Hadley are the same person

. She fretted that she shouldn't have moved to Maine, but then she would change her mind because getting recognized from her picture being plastered all over the television could have happened anywhere.

"Hey," a voice said behind her.

After her initial start, the voice registered. She turned in the chair. "Hey, yourself."

Rob leaned over and kissed her. "How're you feeling?"

"Okay. Joel Egger saw the CNN report last week. He was asking some very uncomfortable questions."

"Joel Egger?"

She nodded. "The engineer at WBGR that I usually work with on the commercials."

Rob's eyes narrowed. "What kind of questions?"

"Nothing specific. He was making fun of me, teasing me about having a secret identity and that I was really an undercover cop, or a secret agent, or something. He wondered if I was a superhero. He called me Wonder Girl because Wonder Woman was already taken."

"Do you think he knows?"

She shook my head. "No, I don't think so. It just makes me nervous, that's all."

He stared at her for a long moment, clearly thinking about something. "Okay. If you suspect he's put two and two together, let me know. I'll pay him a visit and explain it to him."

Her eyes opened wider. "What will you do?"

A smile flickered over his lips. "Nothing I can do. It's not illegal for him to realize who you are or even to tell someone. I will, however, explain to him how the people who are likely to pay him a visit if he starts blabbing what he knows aren't nice guys, and how it would be in his best interest to keep his mouth shut and pretend you're exactly who you say you are." He paused a moment. "If he tries to blackmail you, however..." he continued, his voice becoming low and threatening.

She shook her head as his voice trailed off, leaving the threat unspoken. "I don't think he'd ever do anything like that. He'd probably think it's cool I'm in witness protection."

"I hope you're right."

So did she. She rose from the chair. "Dinner will be ready in about twenty minutes."

"Anything else bothering you?"

She knew he was asking about Dad even though he didn't say the words. "No, no more so than normal. I'm doing okay."

He kissed her again. "Good. Just keep taking it one day at a time."

She nodded in agreement, afraid to speak. He was so kind and thoughtful, always there to lend her a shoulder to cry on or a strong hand to lift her up when she fell. If only she could have met him under different circumstances.

They went into the house and started preparing for their meal. Rob pulled a pair of After Darks from the refrigerator and poured the beers from their bottles into tall beer glasses. He'd introduced her to the beer last summer and she'd fallen in love with it. She wasn't a beer connoisseur, but After Dark was hoppy and smooth with a slight citrus finish that she liked. The beer was from a microbrewery in Bangor that only very occasionally produced it in extremely limited quantity, but Rob had a contact that let him know when the beer was available and would put a case aside for him. It was always a special treat when they could get After Dark, and it went especially well with strongly flavored meals like pizza, Mexican dishes, and Chop Suey Casserole.

As they ate, they talked about their upcoming wedding. A couple of days after the news of her dad, she'd felt ready to return to the sample invitations and Rob had picked his favorite. Typically for him, he chose the least ornate of the four. She'd overridden his decision and picked the one she liked best, and he'd made her smile when he'd insisted that was the one he'd picked as his favorite as well and she'd just misunderstood.

After dinner they snuggled on the couch. They'd been doing that a lot lately. Even though it wasn't mentioned again, her mind kept going back to her conversation with Joel. Rachel had seen the same news clip, but she hadn't made as big a deal about it as Joel had, and that worried her. What if her true identity were discovered? Would the Marshal Service relocate her again? Would the Service realize they'd made a mistake putting Rob and her together in the same location and force her to leave him behind, or would they allow him to transfer to the new location with her? What if there was no position available? Would they allow her to stay in Maine and depend on Rob to protect her? What if he were killed trying to protect her?

All those questions, and dozens more, bounced around in her head like a deranged Jack Russell Terrier, constantly barking and demanding her attention.

"Britney!"

His voice wasn't harsh, but she jumped and looked up at Rob. She'd been sitting in his arms as he read a book on the tactics and equipment of the Legions of the Roman Empire. The book wasn't in his hand anymore.

"What?" she snapped.

"You okay? You were ten million miles away. I said your name three times before you heard me."

"What? Oh, yeah. Sorry. Just thinking."

"About your dad?"

"About Joel."

"Him seeing your picture?" she nodded. "Don't worry about it. In a day or two he'll have completely forgotten about it."

"I hope you're right, but he hadn't forgotten about it in the week since it broadcast."

He shrugged. "Probably because he wanted to tell you about it."

"Maybe," she mumbled.

"Are you ready for bed?"

"Yeah."

She glanced at her phone and was surprised by the time. She'd sat, unseeing and unmoving, for almost two hours. While Rob closed windows, she went to the bathroom to get ready for bed. She'd squirted a little of her face soap into her hand and was putting the container down when it seemed to leap from her hand like a startled rabbit, bouncing off the edge of the sink as it fell. With a quiet shriek of surprise, she grabbed for it but missed, sending the bottle spinning to land on the floor with a thud. The bottle was plastic, so it didn't break, but the lid popped off when it hit the tile and the contents splattered everywhere.

"Shit!" she hissed softly, drawing the word out, standing in shock at the mess she'd just made. It was going to be a bitch to clean all that soap up.

"What?" Rob asked as he stepped into the bedroom. "Oh."

Dropping the bottle was just one more annoyance in a long list of frustrations and annoyances. She could feel the tears coming, but try as she might, she couldn't stop them. She wanted to hit something until her fists were bloody and to scream in rage, frustration, and pain until she had no more voice. She began to gasp as she fought for control, but she was losing the battle against her emotions.

"Here, I'll help," he said, bending to pick up the bottle.

"Just leave it. I'll do it."

"I can help," he said as he screwed the lid back on the bottle.

"I said fucking leave it! I'll do it!"

He placed the bottle on the sink. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing! Everything! I don't know! Just leave me the fuck alone!"

He didn't. Instead, he pulled her into a hug and held her tight to his chest, his hand on her head to press it to his shoulder. She struggled against his embrace, enraged that he hadn't listened to her and was binding her. After a moment he released her, holding his hands up in surrender as he stepped back, looking at her with such sorrow and tenderness. She didn't want or need his sympathy. He was smothering her.

"Why can't you ever do what I say?" she screamed.

"You want me to leave you alone? You want to clean this shit up on your own? Have at it," he snapped, pulling the hand towel from the ring and tossing it into her chest before he turned on his toe and stomped out of the bathroom.

Having him throw the towel at her enraged her far beyond his action. She knew it was wrong, that she was overreacting, that her fear of the future and the loss of Dad that was making her feel this way, but she couldn't stop herself.

"You fucking bastard!" she shrieked as she charged after him. He turned to face her, standing in the large closet that separated the bedroom from the bathroom. "How dare you throw shit at me!"

"What?" he asked, clearly confused.

Her anger wasn't because she'd dropped the bottle, the thrown towel, him pulling her into his embrace, or his offer to help. She was just mad, mad at the world. She'd been holding herself together this past week by force of will alone, refusing to think about Dad, bottling up her feelings and denying them, and now, with the fear of discovery looming, and the possibility of losing Rob, she was overwhelmed. Dropping the bottle was the final straw. She couldn't contain her pain, anger, and fear any longer. She needed a target for the emotions overwhelming her, and Rob was the only person available.

She had to let the emotions go but didn't know how, and he didn't deserve her taking it out on him. It was just like in the small motel in Oklahoma, when she'd lost her shit and all her fear came spilling out of her. She threw herself into his arms, kissing him harshly, desperate for him to fuck all the pent-up pain and anger out of her as he had before.

"Britney," he murmured, pushing gently her away.

"I want you to fuck me," she begged. "I want you to fuck me and never stop."

"Britney, I--"

"Please! I need this! I'm going crazy and the only time everything feels right is when I'm in your arms! Please!"

"You don't have to do this. Are you sure this is--"

"I have to!" she cried, trying to make him understand. "I need it!"

She took his hand and pulled him to the bed before she turned him and shoved him backwards so he fell to the mattress with a bounce. This was what she needed. She didn't need to hit someone, she needed to fuck Rob and scream her pain away in sweet rapture. She roughly opened his pants, jerking hard at his belt and fumbling with the button. Pants opened, she reached inside and pulled his cock out. He was soft. He was never soft, but she'd quickly remedy that. She took his cock into her mouth and began to savagely batter the head with her tongue. She was being rough, but she didn't care. That's what she wanted, what she needed, and she knew he could take it, his manhood rapidly swelling inside her mouth turning her on even more.

"Fuck, Bae," he hissed.

She swallowed him. He hadn't accidently called her Bae in months, and having him slip and use her former name cranked her excitement up another notch. She was going to fuck him, and keep fucking him, until she was exhausted and the terrible weight inside of her had been consumed in the fires of passion.

She pulled his cock from her mouth with a slurpy pop and stepped back to begin undressing, dropping her clothes where they fell as he rose from the bed and did the same. With her head start, she was quicker and shoved him backwards onto the bed again, his legs still hanging off the edge with his sock still on his left foot. She settled over him, holding his cock erect as he slipped inside.

"Oh... fuck!" she cried, her voice loud in the quiet of the house. She normally wasn't a noisy fuck, but she'd discovered the joys of getting loud one day as they fucked like animals in the yard. She'd wanted to scream and yell in pain and anger, so maybe getting loud as Rob fucked the shit out of her would do just as well.

He squirmed until his ass was hanging off the edge of the bed, and then...

oh my God!

He began pounding into her brutally hard, fucking her like she wanted to be fucked, his face twisted in effort and erotic agony. As she'd hoped, it was their first time together all over again, her rage, fear, and lust mixing in a heady mixture that sent her soaring.

"Don't you fucking come, you fucking bastard!" she growled as she glared at him. "You keep fucking me and don't you fucking come!"

He pounded into her hard and fast for a long moment before he barked softly, shoving his cock incredibly deep. He pulled her off him and rolled her to the bed. She didn't feel his wetness, despite his soft cry of pleasure.