Superstitions Ch 26

I stood staring at my reflection in the mirror, unable to stop the tears from running down my cheeks. This should have been the happiest day of my life. Most brides would tell you that it is just that, but mine was very different. I was locked in the bedroom of a strange house, dressed in my wedding gown and anxiously awaiting his arrival. I cried because I would not be getting married this day. Today, I would die.

It happened so quickly that I'm not even sure I remember exactly what happened. I was awake at six in the morning, unable to sleep and filled with excitement. The first thing I saw was the photo of Rich, the oh-so-handsome man that was to become my husband in a little less than ten hours. I was so lucky and I knew it. I popped downstairs and started the coffee maker, then flicked on the television, searching for the news. It was then that I saw that my back door was standing wide open.

Seconds later, everything went dark.

When I came to, I was lying on a bed, nude and bound to the bed. My wedding gown hung on a hat rack at the end of the bed and he was sitting on a chair, casually slicing an apple into chunks and shoving it into his mouth, watching me. I recognized him immediately. I should have; I dated him for nearly three years and came

thisclose

to becoming his wife. When he murdered the neighbor's cat, I called off the engagement. Not long after, I met Rich and after two years, had planned on marrying him.

"Hi, bitch." His cold tone sent chills cascading through me. "Happy Wedding Day."

"Jeff, let me go."

"Like you let me go?"

"Jeff, you know why I called the wedding off." I pulled against the ropes on my wrists and found no give in them.

"I hated that cat."

"A lot of people hate cats but they don't go around murdering them."

"It wasn't murder."

I didn't say anything else. Jeff hadn't changed and was not likely to. I needed to concentrate on finding a way to escape. He stood up and sat on the edge of the bed, laying the cold pocket knife between my breasts, the sharp point just inches from my throat. He then laid two slices of apple on each one of my nipples, making me jerk from the cold wetness. "Jeff, I have to get married today."

He said nothing. His thick hands touched my naked flesh, smoothing the curves of my hips. I tried not to be aroused but I'd always loved the feel of his callused hands. "Miss the feel of these?" I shivered, closing my eyes. His rough fingertips caressed the trembling skin of my stomach, drifting lower to graze my mound. "I remember driving you crazy from just the feel of my hands on your skin." He rubbed again, splitting the deep folds and finding my wet core. "See? I knew you still wanted it."

"Please, Jeff. Please stop."

His fingers spoke for him, delving into my cleft and stroking the sensitive inner flesh. I gasped at the sweet sensations that racked my body and I let my legs fall open. I could not resist the play of his fingers in my flesh and the creamy wetness that flowed bore witness to my inability. Jeff knew what I liked, knew exactly where to stroke and how hard and his fingers played a melody on my clit, sinking and curling into my hole. I fought against the sensations but I knew it was coming. It started as a warm ball in the pit of my stomach, feeding upon itself as it grew and crept into my spine.

Minutes later, I came, arching off of the bed and driving his fingers more deeply into me. My pussy muscles clutched him tightly and I gasped, my juices coating his fingers and my thighs. When I could think again, he was standing and staring at me, a sad look on his face as he examined my veil.

"By all rights, it should be me waiting for you in that church." He looked up at me, then looked away. "But I understand why you did what you did. It was wrong of me to kill that cat and it made me think that I might have more problems than just that cat."

"Jeff, you can get help."

He ignored me and came around to the head of the bed, releasing my arms. "I need you, Jen, and if I can't have you, then no one else will." He flung the veil at me, anger in his eyes as he headed for the door. "Get dressed. You're going to marry me."

The heavy door slammed shut and the clink of tumblers told me that I was still a prisoner. I sat up, my body still quivering and put my wedding dress and veil on.

And here I sit, my face wet with tears, waiting for him to return and knowing that he will kill me. I heard keys in the lock and quickly wiped my face, determined to face him without a show of fear. I was so surprised to see Rich stride in, a group of police officers behind him.

"Rich!" I threw myself into his arms and started crying anew. "I thought I was going to die! I thought it was Jeff coming to kill me!"

My fiancé held me tightly, his voice cracking with the emotion he felt. "He was going to kill you, honey. He said ... he said that the veil made him change his mind."

I'll never quite understand what made Jeff change his mind but I was glad that he did. Maybe that old superstition that my grandmother had told me about was really true, that a veil made by the hands of one who loves you would protect you from evil. I didn't care. I held on tight to Rich and let him lead me out of that place.