Do The Dots Connect Alternate End Pt 02

Editor's note: this story contains scenes of non-consensual or reluctant sex.

*****

When we left Paul, he had just left his wife after discovering she was doing online porn. Outside the apartment building he encountered Dave, her partner in porn, and caved in the back of the his head with a tire iron. As we pick up the story, he has just driven away from the scene of the crime after shoving the body behind a dumpster.

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I drove two blocks and had to pull over. I was overwhelmed. After sitting for a minute by the side of the busy street I realized I needed to pull off onto a side street to collect myself. I mustered my composure enough to drive up to the next corner and pull around. Luckily there was a parking place I could easily pull into. I turned off the engine, rolled down the window to let in fresh air, and leaned forward, resting my forehead on the top of the steering wheel.

Too much had happened too quickly. My dear Ginger had blown up my marriage. I had killed a man. I was about half drunk. It was 1 a.m. and I was exhausted. I had nowhere to go and no reason to go there. The police might soon be after me. I needed a plan.

I stuck my head out the window and took deep breaths. It was cold, but the fresh air started to clear my head. Two more deep breaths. I realized there was a chance. I knew from my service on the apartment building Tenants Association that the security cameras in the parking lot were not working. It had been a big issue at the last meeting, but the company that was supposed to fix them had not yet shown up.

Two more deep breaths out the window and I had a plan. I called Ginger. She picked up instantly - she must have been holding her phone. "Paul, where are you? Where did you go? I think something has happened to David. When are you coming home? I'm beside myself with worry about both of you."

"Ginger, listen carefully. I'm in trouble. I need your help."

"At this hour? What can I do? Did you see David in the parking lot? He was coming home just about the time you left."

"Forget him for now," I said, as calmly as I could. "I need you to help me, your actual husband. Will you do that?"

"What do you need?" she asked, quietly.

"I need you to put on dark clothes and your black hoodie. I need you to bring me my black sweatsuit with the hood. And in the bottom of my closet is that ratty old blanket that you hate. Bring it."

"Paul, you are scaring me, what's going on? Did you do something to David?"

"Listen, Ginger. Right now I don't have time for explanations. I will be parked around the corner on Elm Street. Come out the back door of the building and walk down the alley toward Elm. I'll meet you there. And Ginger, leave your phone at home."

"Paul, what's going on? I don't know what to do. I'm so worried about David. We were on the phone and he was coming home and then everything went dead."

"Ginger, please. If you ever loved me, please just do as I have said. Change clothes, leave your phone, and meet me down the alley. I will explain everything to you, I promise. And bring me a bottle of water."

We ended the call, and I started the car. I looked around and did not see any movement or activity. A dog barked in the distance, but he wasn't barking at me.

I pulled away from the curb and drove the two blocks back to our building. I parked around the corner and turned off the lights. I grabbed a couple of masks from the box I kept in the car, and two pairs of gloves. I walked to the alley and waited by a large bush that provided a little cover. After about seven minutes I saw Ginger approaching. She was dressed as I had instructed, and had clothes for me over her arm. As she drew close I stepped out from the shadows. I could tell she was crying. I could tell by the way she walked that she was sore between the legs. It had been a rough night for her, too, and she had no idea how much rougher it was going to get.

"Thank you, Ginger. Thank you for helping me," I said. She sniffled and handed me the sweat suit she had brought. I slipped bottoms and top on over my clothes, and took the blanket she had folded over her other arm. I reached for the bottle of water and chugged it. I took her by the hand and looked into her eyes.

"Ginger, I need you walk with me and I need you to be strong. A terrible thing has happened. No matter what happens, no matter what you see, you must not scream or cry out. Everything depends on not being seen or heard. Can you do that?"

She stopped. She looked at me with terror in her eyes. "You hurt him didn't you? Is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?"

I took her arm and tried to coax her forward. "Let's just get through this, and then we'll see what to do next," I said. I handed her a mask and gloves and had her put them on.

She hesitated for another moment, then let me lead her down the alley toward the parking lot and the dumpster. She spotted Dave's car as soon as we walked into the lot. "He did make it home. Is he in the car?" She rushed over and looked through the driver's window.

"He's not there. Where is he, Paul?"

I looked toward the dumpster and nodded. She started to run, but I grabbed her by the arm. "Slowly, Sweetheart. Walk with me. Take my arm."

She put her hand through my arm and we walked over to where I had shoved Dave's body behind the dumpster. I had her stand back and I grabbed his feet and pulled him out.

She gasped when she saw him and fell to her knees, hands over her face, crying. The back of his head was a bloody mess. His eyes stared blankly, with a surprised look. She rocked back and forth a couple of times, sobbing. Then she surprised me. She stopped rocking. She took a deep breath, then stood up. She pulled down her mask and wiped her eyes and her nose on her sleeve, then looked me in the eye. "Tell me what happened. Tell me everything or I walk back into the apartment and call the police. I might do that anyway, but tell me first. Did he start something? Did he have a gun?"

I led her over to a car parked nearby, and had her lean against the fender. I started slowly and deliberately, trying to keep emotion out of it. Which, frankly, was not difficult because I was drained.

"Tonight when I discovered on the computer what you were doing with him, I was devastated. I was very upset. You saw that. I tried to keep my cool as long as I was in the apartment because I did not want to hurt you and I did not have it in me to have a big scene. Plus, I realized that I'd had a lot to drink, and my judgment was probably impaired. I just wanted to get out of there.

"So I took my stuff and walked out to the parking lot and opened the trunk. I was putting my bags in when I saw your porn star boyfriend pull into the parking lot. I didn't want him to see me. I didn't want to talk to him and I didn't want to give him the chance to mock or laugh at me like he did on your video, so I slipped around to the side of the car where I wouldn't be seen. I watched.

"He pulled his car to the back of the lot where it was dark. As he got out and started walking toward the building my mind went blank. I stopped thinking. I went into full-blown law of the jungle mode. I reached into the trunk and grabbed the tire iron from under the spare and started walking behind him. He was talking on the phone with his earbuds in, so he didn't hear me come up behind him. I could tell he was talking to you. I heard him say, 'He left? Good!' and that's when I hit him. I clubbed him in the back of the head with all my might and he went down. I swear to you Ginger, I did not know I was going to do that. I didn't know if I was going to fight him, or if we'd argue, or if I'd just turn away and slink off. But when I heard him say it was good that I had left you, like he had won you, I just saw red and I hit him.

"I could tell right away he was dead. Well, I was pretty sure. The back of his head was caved in. So I dragged him over and shoved him behind the dumpster. You were still trying to talk to him, calling his name. I smashed his phone and pitched it in the dumpster, which was a dumb thing to do, but I wasn't thinking. I jumped in my car and I took off. I got about two blocks, realized I needed a plan, and that's when I called you.

"Ginger, I'm scared and ashamed and heartbroken all at the same time. Scared of losing you. Scared of going to jail. Ashamed for losing control. And mad as hell at myself because even after what you did, even after you gave your body and your heart to that sleazy pornographer, I still love you."

Ginger looked back at me with fire in her eyes. "You say you love me, but right now I hate you. I hate you for leaving me and I hate you for what you've done. You scoff at David for being a pornographer. Shit, Paul, you're a fucking murderer!"

Her voice rose, and I gestured to keep it quiet. That really pissed her off. But I guess she still felt something for me, so she asked, "Okay, what's the plan? What are we going to do here?"

I had her help me spread out the blanket. I fished his keys out of his pocket. We rolled him onto the blanket, then rolled it up with him inside. I used his keys to pop his trunk, then we carried him to the back of his car and she helped me hoist him over the lip and into his trunk. I closed it, and put the keys in her gloved hand.

"I need you to drive his car to his studio, and park it in the lot. I will follow you. We'll leave the car there and hope nobody sees us. I'll park up the street. You pull your hoodie over your head and cover as much of your face as you can as you walk away and come to the car. If we're lucky nobody will see us and nobody will connect us with him."

"They may recognize me if they start looking at his video files," she said. "And I'll be damned if I'm going to go down with you for killing a man I was starting to love."

I was stunned. Love? Then I shook it off. Bigger problems than that right now. Why hadn't I thought of the videos? I just kept feeling the hole get deeper and deeper. "What can we do about that?" I asked.

"I was with him when he was editing the videos. I know where the control room is, I watched him enough to know how to work the editing software a little bit - I think I can find the files and erase them."

"How do we get in? Is there an alarm system?"

She waved his keys in front of me. "These will get me in, and I saw him work the alarm code when we left, earlier. I remember it because it is the last four of his cell phone number."

So we drove downtown to his studio. She led and I followed. When I saw her turn into the building lot I pulled over and stopped. I saw her park the car in his parking spot, then walk up to the door. She worked the keys and went in, then through the glass door I saw her punch the code into the alarm panel. She turned and went on into the building. I slid down in my seat and tried to be invisible, in case anybody came past. Unlikely at such an early hour, but then at such an hour somebody sitting in a parked car would look suspicious. It occurred to me that she could at that very moment have been calling the police to turn me in. I just had to take that chance. I think she figured that she had become involved enough that if I got caught she'd suffer as well. Besides, maybe she still loved me. She had said she did, maybe it was true.

After 14 minutes that seemed like 14 hours I saw her come up the corridor toward the front door. She stopped and put in the alarm code, then hustled out the door, locking it behind her. I was glad to see she was still wearing the gloves.

She walked to my car and got in. "Done. Videos erased, including the raw footage before the scenes were edited together. I don't think I left a trace of myself in there." She held up a thumb drive. "The three completed videos we made, plus raw takes, are on here. If you threaten me or commit any violence against me, this goes to the police as evidence of your motive for murder. I don't think you have violent thoughts toward me, but before tonight I wouldn't have thought you capable of murder either."

"Ginger, I love you. I would never hurt you. If ever I were going to, it would have been when you walked in the door in that dress you wore to do porn. But I didn't have the impulse to hurt you. I just had the need to get away. Nevertheless, I understand why you would want some insurance. Thank you for what you've done for me tonight. I think I just might get away with this terrible mistake."

"So, what do we do now?" Ginger asked.

"I guess I take you back to your apartment, then find someplace to get some rest."

"Paul, it is our apartment. We have both sinned against each other. I got drawn into doing the unthinkable with another man, and even fell for him, and you took him away from me before I could find out if there was anything real there. Let's go home and see if we can figure out if there is any 'us' left after all."

We were halfway home when I had an "Oh shit!" moment. "My fingerprints are on his phone in the dumpster. If they figure out where the killing took place their forensics people may look in there."

"It's Thursday morning. The truck comes and empties the dumpster at about 5 a.m. Wakes me up every week. It will be okay. But no more carelessness, buster. You now have us both in this up to our necks."

Her tone had changed. She had lost the angry edge in her voice. I was feeling more relaxed with her. It was as if working together on this problem solving had pulled us back toward the team mode we had lived in until recently. Until that snake slithered into her life.

We made it home. My eyes were on the rear view often. Guilt and fear are potent feelings. I pulled into my usual spot. As we walked together toward the door I saw Ginger look over at the space where her lover's car had been an hour before, as if he might have somehow returned. My stomach tightened, but I kept going. We got in the door and upstairs to our apartment without being seen. Once we were inside, and the door closed, Ginger reached around me and we collapsed into a hug. We had both had time to think as we drove home.

We both said "I'm sorry" at the same time. We surprised each other, and smiled for a moment.

"Paul, I'm sorry I lost my head and fell for David's seduction. I realize now that's what it was, plain and simple. At the time I though it was business and had nothing to do with us, and maybe that was even true at first, but then he stepped up the attention and I fell for it, and then he got me to do things I could not have imagined. Things I don't even want to tell you about."

"Well, you know the terrible thing I did," I said. "I'm sorry to have had to drag you into my mess, but I thank you for your help. I'm not sorry he's gone - I don't even think I'm sorry I killed him. But I'm scared, and so grateful for your help." I had a thought.

"You know, he died happy. His last thought was that he'd taken you from me. And I'm going to spend the rest of my life with fear and remorse."

I could tell Ginger was thinking as I spoke.

"Paul, we have a problem. Sit down and compose yourself, because this is going to hurt."

I went into the kitchen and sat down at the table in the same chair I'd been in when she broke my heart earlier. God, was it still the same night?

"Paul, erasing those videos won't fix everything. David and I weren't the only ones in the scenes tonight. There were two other guys, LeRoy and Bubba. I had sex with them too. And all at once. More than one take. When they find David's body they may talk to them. And if they go to look for the videos I erased, they may connect those dots.

Damn - how could there be so many fucking dots in one night?

I was silent. She really had descended into the pit. Not the immediate problem.

"Are they regular employees?"

"No. David said they were a couple guys from the neighborhood he brought in for shoots once in a while. He paid them cash and they went away happy."

"Do they know your name?"

"They only know he called me Ginger. They may figure that was a fake name."

"Does anybody else know about your work with Dave, or your relationship?"

"I don't think so. He told me he wasn't telling his wife, for obvious reasons. There was the guy who played 'Paul' the cuck in the videos. He was really just the janitor and didn't ask questions. I guess he played the part in a lot of David's scenes."

"What about a camera man?"

"David just set the cameras on tripods and locked them down. There were three cameras for different views, but no operator."

"I guess we'll just have to hope LeRoy and Bubba don't come forward. They may not want to step into a murder investigation."

We were both spent, mentally, emotionally and physically. We washed up and went to bed. Neither of us wanted anything to do with sex, but we both felt the need to be close to somebody. We held each other until we went to sleep.

I woke up at 9 a.m., sunlight streaming in the window. I woke up Ginger. "We'd better get freshened up," I suggested. "There may be people coming around with questions."

After coffee we showered and got dressed and Ginger put out cereal for breakfast. We were just finishing when there was a knock on the door. Two uniformed police officers, a young man and a young woman, told us that one of our neighbors, a David Summers, had been reported missing by his wife. They asked if we had seen him or had any information that might help to locate him.

We assured them we had not had any contact with him recently, and they thanked us, giving us business cards and moving on to the next door.

"They haven't found him yet," Ginger said, quietly. "He's still lying there in that dark trunk."

"I'm sorry, Ginger, but if we are going to have any future, you're going to have to let him go. I won't share you with a dead man."

"Future? You think we have a future?"

"I don't know. I've never been in a situation like this. I'm playing it by ear. Right now I'm going to take you to the bedroom and reclaim you."

"You can't. I'm too sore. I got used hard last night."

I grabbed her by the arm. "And you're going to get used hard right now." I moved her toward the bedroom. "Strip."

Her eyes got big. I had never pushed her around or forced her. She saw the set of my jaw and determination in my eyes. Without breaking eye contact she stripped off her shorts. She held the look as she pulled the shirt over her head, breaking only for the instant the shirt blocked her face. I couldn't tell if her look was anger or fear or if she was turned on.

"Lose the bra and panties." She did.

"What now?" she asked softly. Her left arm was folded across her chest, covering her breasts. Her right hand covered her sex. She looked down shyly, as if I was a stranger seeing her for the first time. In a strange way that's what it felt like.

"Now you strip me," I said. I didn't help her. I stood still while she unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off. She unfastened my shorts, unzipped, and pulled them down with my briefs. She stood up straight and resumed eye contact. Now her hands were at her side. We stood facing each other, taking in each other's body, again like strangers. I desperately wanted my cock to be pointing at the ceiling, bigger and harder than anything she'd ever seen before, but it wasn't. It seems my cock was as uncertain about things as the rest of me, and was only about half hard.

"Bend over the bed and rest on your elbows so your tits hang down."

"I don't want to do this," she said, softly. "I'm not ready."

"You were ready for Sven and Bubba and LeRoy, so you'll damn sure be ready for me," I snarled. "Bend over and spread 'em."

She did, then. One look and I could see how red and sore her pussy lips were. And her butthole was red and swollen.

Smack! I slapped her left butt cheek. She flinched and cried out, but she didn't buckle. Smack! I slapped her right cheek. Not as hard as I had hit her boyfriend's head, but almost. I gave her five hard ones on each cheek. By the time I was finished her ass was bright red, my hand was sore, my cock was iron and her pussy lips glistened. She whimpered, softly.