Thank you for taking the time to read this story. It still feels like I'm floating in the Twilight Zone when I see that another person has read this.
A huge thank you to Jen for not only the editing, but for the general hand holding. Good luck.
Any comments or feedback are welcome and can be left through my profile.
Thanks again, TNC
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The sun had been shining in his eyes for a while and he started trying to get loose, he had breakfast to make; he stopped just short of falling out of the swing. The rays were just coming over the horizon and if it were any other, promised to be a perfect summer day. Picking up the empty bottles, Mark headed in for coffee and another long day, wondering what the next few hours would bring.
He started two pots of coffee, one for him and the other for Vanessa and Amy. He had grown addicted to the "yank your eyelids off and beat your brain awake" strength that the guys on the boat brewed, although the ladies objected. Not wanting to deal with either of the two ladies sans caffeine, he started a pot with a more pedestrian strength for the "morning people" still sleeping. Pouring his pot into two big mugs and theirs into a carafe, Mark headed out to the garage, he needed to think and he thought better when his hands were moving.
Turning the stereo on, he found a classic rock station and cranked the volume up as he put Amy's truck and Vanessa's Porsche on the lifts. Occupying his hands with the manual labor, he made a mental list of phone calls to be made and issues to cover with Scott. When the wheels were off and the oil was draining into the catch cans, he was well into the air guitar solo in "Free Bird" and turned, jumping up and hitting his head on a brake rotor as he noticed someone behind him.
With his mind off thinking and the loud music someone could have driven a tank through the place and he wouldn't have noticed.
"Shitfuckpissdamnohfuckme that hurts like forty seven motherfuckers!" Forgetting his visitor and lapsing into boat language as the only thing available that properly summed up his feelings.
He felt a pair of hands guiding him to the couch and when his eyes uncrossed he found that he was staring into the deep brown eyes that had stolen his heart the first time he saw them in the club. He also saw that the only thing she was wearing was the tee shirt he had put her to bed in, the animal part of his brain started singing her body's praises. If he and Amy hadn't exhausted each other, he would have Vanessa bent over the couch enjoying the feel as her ass bounced off his stomach with each thrust.
When he made it to her eyes, they were puffy and full of a sadness that ripped through the hastily constructed box he had stuffed his feelings in to shield himself, allowing him to deal with everything on better terms. He was planning on dealing with them when he hadn't been up for two days and had the advantage of some time to wear down the edges of the knife he felt twisting in his heart, and twenty four hours wasn't long enough.
He held up a finger and went to turn the music down and wash his hands. He came back with an ice pack in one hand and a beer in the other, this day was fucked anyway and he had already gone through more than enough happy hours since he slept last. Draining half of the bottle, he set it down as he slid back against the arm of the couch and looked at his wife as she sat on the other end, facing the far wall.
Vanessa woke up, not recognizing where she was and when the room came into view, her world crashed around her ears. When she sat up, she felt the soreness from the two huge dildos and then remembered the tender way Mark had taken care of her. She padded down the hall to her bedroom expecting to find Mark and pulled up short when she saw Amy's sleeping form. Seeing her mussed hair and the serene look, she could imagine what had happened. Mark was more passionate than usual when they got back and she envied her friend, but couldn't be angry, not after what she had done. Turning and pulling the door closed behind her, she went into the den, stopping when she saw the splintered wound in the table. The shears were there but not their rings.
She searched through the rest of the house and smelled coffee. If there was a place he would be it was in the garage. Stopping to fill a mug, she allowed herself a small smile when she saw the thick foul stuff Mark called coffee. The one time she had tried it, she felt like she was bouncing off the walls and couldn't stop talking. Opening the back door gave her the answer to the location question as she heard the music pulsing through the walls.
Steeling herself and taking a deep breath she started down the steps and across the yard. The music got louder as she got closer and she pressed her full lips into a thin line. With Mark, the louder the music, the more upset he was and with the level at just below where your ears start bleeding, he was royally pissed. Pressing her forehead against the door, she could feel the bass pulsing through her, just like the night he had saved her from Chad.
They had never talked about it, but they would be now, if she could get to her Mark again.
Vanessa stepped into the garage and her world narrowed as she saw Mark, his back to her as he worked on her car. She memorized each part of him and vowed that she would do whatever it took to keep the man that held her heart in his hands. As she walked closer she started laughing as the wrench he was using turned into an air guitar. She was getting ready to touch his arm, when he turned and jumped up like she had lit his feet on fire, straight into the brake rotor.
He stood stunned for a second, but she knew he was ok when he started cussing, although the glazed and slightly cross-eyed look did concern her as she led him to the couch. As she was helping him sit down his eyes focused on her and there was a moment when she saw the damage she had done. She lost herself in the pit he was looking up at her from, feeling the pain that was her fault as a stake through her heart, bringing tears to her eyes. Even when he slammed the walls back in place, she could still see the haunted look behind them.
When he returned with a beer, she knew he was upset. Add to that the circles under his eyes and she guessed he hadn't been asleep for quite a while. She winced as he drained half the bottle while he held the ice to his head. She wanted to reach over and take care of him, but she was held in place by the look of betrayal that she could see in his eyes
When Mark was settled on the couch, he waited. He didn't really know where to start and really wasn't in the shape he needed to be in to deal with it, but here they were. He had started drifting, letting the music sooth his frayed nerves when he heard her start.
"You remember me saying I was so alone?" And waited until she was sure he was back before she continued. "I didn't have anyone I could go to and got myself caught in something."
Turning to look into his eyes, she took a deep breath and went on, "remember Chad?" She saw the nod and said, "When Mom and Dad split, I took a second job making deliveries to help Mom with expenses. It wasn't much but it helped. As it turned out, the deliveries were drugs and money. Chad contacted me after he got out of jail and found out we were married. He threatened to implicate you unless I did what he wanted. It would have destroyed your career and ruined everything, that and I couldn't stand to see the disappointment in your eyes. So much for that. God, I fucked up everything. I'll do whatever you want. If you want me to go, just say so, but please hold me a last time." She trailed off in silence as the tears flowed from her eyes.
Mark's emotions were ping ponging between anger, sadness, despair and ending with compassion. He expected the anger to last but when she looked up and he saw the loss and resignation in her eyes, his insides started to melt. There were some huge hurdles to get past, but he felt his arms opening and then the familiar form of his sobbing wife filling them. There were three people that could rip his heart out and stomp on it and be welcomed into his life again, one was sleeping, one was dead and the other had her face buried in his chest. Leaning his head back, he felt his own trickling down his cheeks, falling in her hair.
Thinking of Amy brought the night back to him in vivid detail.
"Ness, Amy and," stopping as she looked up, intending to clear the air.
