Escalation

Will these two EVER learn? The Conclusion.

An original story. Chapter 4 of 4.

I know that I usually write story continuations, but there's been enough clamoring, comments and emails encouraging me to write my own, that I figured I'd offer up a few. I don't think the trolls will care one way or the other.

I hope you enjoy this little story, and remember, it's only fiction.

For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

From Chapter 3:

She sighed as she lowered her sexy body into the water. "What brought this on?" she asked.

"You were there when I needed you. That's important to me. You're important to me. Thank you," I said.

"Mmmm," she breathed, sipping her champagne and settling into the water. "You sure know how to spoil a girl."

While she was bathing, I fed her a couple of chocolate covered strawberries. When her toes started to prune, I dried her off, and led her to bed, where I gave her my best massage. "I can't believe I ever let you go," she murmured. "I was such a young fool."

"I should have fought for you."

She sighed, and didn't argue. When I'd finished with her back, I worked her front. I finished between her legs. I leaned over her, looking into her gorgeous face. I was going to miss her.

"You're better than I deserve," I said, before I could stop myself.

"I don't think that's possible," she murmured, smiling sleepily as I gently eased in and out of her.

I took her lovingly. Twice. I kissed her, held her, and told her how important she was to me. I confessed I loved her, and never had gotten completely over her. She came only seconds after I told her that, and cried, clinging to me.

I fell asleep holding her. I knew it would be the last time for a while. Maybe forever.

It was time to find Sheri.

With the three assholes taken care of, I could concentrate on what really mattered. The hateful cunt that betrayed me over and over again.

I made love to Debbie again in the morning. I couldn't get enough of her. I took her jewelry shopping, and bought her a matching necklace and earrings. I think she was hoping for a ring, but I couldn't do that to her.

Once she left for work, I got started. I packed up what I needed. I left a letter. It was difficult to write, but I remembered she had the decency to end with me cleanly and I owed her that much.

Dearest Debbie,

The last few weeks with you has been nothing short of incredible. That's what makes this so difficult.

I have to leave. I have business to take care of, and don't believe there's anything left for me here, except you. I'm not in any shape to have a real relationship yet. Not until I've got my ex out of my system. I need to move away and start over, without the memories of this place.

It's not fair to you, and you deserve better than what I have to offer right now. I'm sorry.

Maybe someday, down the line, if we're both still single, we can try again. I think I'd like that. Thank you for being here for me, when I needed it most. You saved my life in many ways, and I'll always love you for that.

Go out and find a man worthy of you. Someone without my baggage. I pray you have the happiness you deserve.

Love - Marty

I left a manila envelope with ten thousand dollars in it, hoping it would make her life easier. She deserved someone better than me. At least who I was now. I grabbed a copy of Auto-Trader at 7-11, and an hour and a half later, bought my second car within a month. I convinced the owner to drive it to the 24 hour Wal-Mart with me, while I drove my car. I took him back to his house, and had a new untraceable vehicle for 30 days, as long as I didn't get in an accident. I transferred my two bags to my 'new' car, and left the old one abandoned in the parking lot.

I called Amy. She wouldn't recognize this number, it was new.

"Hello?" she answered. I was thankful. I was afraid she might have started letting it go to voicemail.

"Hi Amy. Is she gone?"

"Please don't do this, Marty. She's gone, far away. You've devastated her. She left with nothing, but a few suitcases. Leave her alone."

"I can't do that. At least she was smart. I'll see your around."

She spoke quickly before I could hang up. "Marty. You have to stop. The police are looking for you. Everyone knows it was you. You hurt those guys badly. The police were here for the third time not more than an hour ago."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I haven't hurt anybody. I'm not even in town. I left two weeks ago. I think anyone trying to prove I did anything would have a hell of a time doing it. All I'm doing now is trying to get hold of my wife, to find out what the status of our marriage is," I said. I was a little nervous that someone might be tapping her phone.

"I don't know if you did it, or if you paid someone to do it, but you need to stop. You had your revenge. Sheri didn't do anything. She's the one that stopped them from hurting you. She took you to the hospital. I saw the blood in her car. She was crying when she tried to scrub it out. She didn't want you hurt."

"She set me up. She knew I'd be coming home to get my stuff. For two days she acted like everything was fine, and we'd go our separate ways, calmly and with no more trouble. She couldn't leave it alone, could she? She had to rub it in my face. She went along with their lies about what really happened. Don't tell me she didn't do anything!" I snapped, on the verge of yelling at her.

"Please, Marty. Please, I'm begging you. You've hurt her plenty. She's broke, scared to death, and on the run. I had to give her money, and so did Mom and Dad. She's never even called. God only knows when I'll see my sister again. Let her go, Marty. Just let her go." I could hear she was crying.

"First of all, she's not broke. She told me she'd hidden eight grand, in case we didn't make it. I'll tell you what. For you, I'll leave her alone for one more week. Plenty of time to run and hide. That's the best I can do. Goodbye, Amy. You're a hell of a fuck."

"Mart—"

I hung up, and threw away the phone. Thirty-two dollars for a new one with 500 minutes. I flipped a coin. It was tales. I drove west.

~ * ~ * ~

She was good.

I had a hell of a time trying to locate her. When I couldn't on my own, I put a PI on it. The first try cost me ten grand, and ended nowhere. I decided to give her some time to settle in. It was more likely that once she was established somewhere, she'd give herself away.

I learned something interesting. I hung out with the day laborers for a few weeks, taking any work I could get for cash under the table. I didn't need the money, but I wanted to assimilate. It was the beginning of the third week with them, when I got my break. I'd worked with Hector three times. I told him a story about being on the run from my wife. I wasn't going to pay the cheating whore a dime, no matter what the courts said.

"You need ID," he told me.

"I have ID. I'm legal. I'm just not going to use it."

"No, no. New ID. One day. Good quality."

Now that's what I was hoping to hear. "How good?"

"Two-hundred, good enough. For four-hundred, you can even use to get credit cards. Social security card, birth certificate. Very good."

Shit. And I was thinking it would cost me thousands. I didn't need the best. I wasn't going to do anything that would be investigated too thoroughly. Hector introduced me to a man named Manuel. Manuel took my picture. He told me my options. A hundred and sixty for the basics. Four hundred for very good. Eleven hundred for the best. "What is the best?" I asked.

"Ex-pat. Living overseas, never comes back. You get his birth-certificate, social security card. Real thing. You can even use it to get driver's license, do taxes. Real person. No criminals."

Probably real bullshit, but I paid.

The next morning I had a State ID, social-security card and birth-certificate. "How good is it?" I asked.

"The best. Guaranteed."

I bet. It was going to be risky, but I'd see if I could get a driver's license out of it. If I could, I was golden.

I was given a suggestion where to go to get my driver's license. Turns out some of these places are less careful about things, and the

ilegales

knew all about them. I had spent a good amount of time memorizing all the information. I had my birth certificate, nicely artificially aged, folded a gazillion times, placed in a plastic sleeve for 'protection'. With two pieces of ID I took a number and sweated my balls off for forty minutes before my name was called. The lady looked bored. She glanced at the paper and typed on her machine. Made me step back for a picture. Told me to place my thumbs on the scanner. I put my middle fingers on it until it beeped. Fuck you.

"Thirty-six dollars," I was told.

I gave her two twenties.

~ * ~ * ~

I bought a mini-RV. It was over 20 years old and had less than 80,000 miles on it. For $1800 it got a complete engine overhaul. I drove to Mexico and had the interior completely redone for another $3700. I even gave it a new paint job and new tires. By the time I returned to So. Cal. two weeks later, I was living in luxury.

Most of my money was sitting in a safety deposit box under my new name. I only carried a few thousand on me most of the time, and had another $40K hidden in the vehicle. My Mexican friends had created the two hideaways during the interior upgrade. I was feeling relatively secure for the first time in a long time.

I got a job, a real one. It paid decently. It was in sales, so my lack of education for my current ID wasn't that important. Or so they told me. All I had to do was prove myself. I worked my ass off for them, and became the number three sales person after eight months.

After six months had passed, I had tried the PI route again. I didn't go for the full blown search. I only spent two grand, but I was assured that I had a good chance of finding her. I gave them her name, maiden name, social-security number, her old driver's license number. All the family information and her work history as well. They came up empty.

I was a little frustrated, but decided to wait it out. I worked, I planned, I plotted, and I fed my anger. At the one year mark, I was five grand poorer, but I had an address in Idaho. Pocatello. The bitch had filed a name change. It looked like she had gotten married. I guess I was divorced, but who knows? Perhaps she was just a bigamist.

I pulled up roots, and setup my new ID and bank accounts in north Salt Lake City, two hours away from her. Then I did some preparation. Important, expensive preparation. I can admit it now, I was a little crazy, a lot paranoid, and completely obsessed. Or maybe I have those backwards. Finding her and getting even consumed me.

Five weeks later I was watching her through binoculars, as she kissed her new man goodbye when he headed out to work. My ratty eleven year old, gray mini-van was about as invisible as it gets. The tinted windows made it private as well. I studied her, getting angrier every day. It was easy to put a GPS on both their cars. Four days later I made my move at the Wal-Mart off I-86 in Pocatello.

She parked. I waited. I kept moving my parking spot nearer to hers. When the parking place on the driver's side of her vehicle opened up, I was inches from the old-fart's bumper as he pulled away. Now it was a matter of luck. All I needed was a few seconds, with no witnesses. My legs were shaking in anticipation. A year's preparation came down to these next few minutes.

I scanned the area around me, while she loaded the back of her car. She had her back to the sliding door, as she bent over to unlock her vehicle. I opened the door and roughly grabbed the back of her coat, yanking her backwards as hard and fast as I could, throwing her across my legs as I slammed the door shut behind her.

Her scream was cutoff when the stun-gun delivered its million volts. Within seconds her hands and feet were zip-tied, and her mouth was duct-taped. I checked outside, and her purse was still on the ground where she had dropped it. Looking around, it appeared the coast was clear. I opened the door, grabbed her purse, found her keys were under the purse and grabbed those too. I closed the door and pulled out carefully. Five minutes hadn't passed since I first grabbed her.

She was squirming a lot, so I hit her with the stun-gun again. After the third time she stopped wiggling, staring at me in abject terror. She was still trying to talk through her duct-tape, but wasn't having much luck. It was only ten minutes to the public park. I pulled alongside my refurbished Minnie-Winnie, and had her transferred a few minutes later.

I taped her into the backseat, and took everything out of the van, including her purse and keys. I removed my mask and gloves, scratching my beard. I turned around, removed my sunglasses and looked at her. I guess after five years together, the beard wasn't much of a disguise. Her eyes opened wide in instant recognition, then went glassy before she passed out.

~ * ~ * ~

My 'cabin,' if you can call the dilapidated shack twenty miles east of Logan, Utah, a cabin, was isolated. I liked that. It was cheap. I liked that a lot. And I owned it outright. Paid cash off the books. It was listed as unimproved land.

Water was from a well, and the only electricity was from the four large solar panels I'd installed. Propane tanks provided the gas. It was everything I needed for the moment.

Sheri woke long before I got there. I know because I kept hearing weird noises from her. It was still late afternoon, when we arrived at our destination.

I pulled up in front of our new home, finally relaxing, feeling the tension roll off me. I turned off the engine and spoke to her for the first time. "Welcome home, dear loving wife. I'm assuming we're still married. I know you didn't sign the papers I gave you, and I haven't signed anything."

She was shaking as I pulled the duct tape free from her mouth. "Don't hurt me, Marty. Please don't hurt me," she pleaded.

"Hurt you? Now why in the world would I do that? What did you ever do to me?"

"I tried to stop them. I swear I did. I had no idea they were going to do that to you. I took you to the hospital," she said anxiously.

"You agreed with their story that I attacked them, while they were doing nothing but speaking to you. Isn't that right, my beautiful little traitor?"

"I'm sorry, but I had to. They threatened me. I swear, Marty. I never wanted you to be hurt."

"You didn't think coming home to that gangbang scene would hurt me?"

Her eyes sparkled with that old familiar ire. "You dumped me. I didn't want a divorce. Once I got those damn papers, it was none of your business anyway. I wasn't yours any longer."

"So you went back to the same assholes."

She lowered her eyes. "They were available. I knew they'd go along."

Like I cared. I pulled out my knife, a sweet little Cold Steel Recon 1, sharp as the blazes, and immediately saw the terror in her eyes. I reached down with the knife, and cut her legs free. "Come on. We're home. Don't try to run, we're miles from anything, and no neighbors anywhere to be found."

She had to know that. She'd been awake for the last part of the drive. We hadn't passed a car in at least 20 minutes. The last ten minutes of dirt road ended in front of my cabin.

She stumbled getting to her feet. "What are you going to do to me?"

I helped her to the door of the RV, stepped down then reached up and threw her over my shoulder, making her grunt. "You're my wife, Sheri. I'm going to love you, of course."

~ * ~ * ~

In the house, I didn't wait long to let her know my intentions. I closed the front door, and started ripping her clothing off of her. She screamed at first, but then I pulled out my knife, and she stopped. It made it easier to get her naked anyway. I bent her over the cheap couch, and rammed my aching cock up her cheating twat.

She cried out and I told her to shut up.

"You've been cheating on me again, you little bitch. I saw the guy. I think I'll take care of him next. Like I do with all our lovers."

She started crying. "I'm sorry. I . . . I had to do something. I couldn't get a job, or I knew you'd find me. He took me in, took care of me. He's not a bad man."

"He. Fucked. My. Wife!" I screamed at her, slamming my cock into her with each word.

"He didn't know. I told him I was single," she whimpered.

"Lying. Cheating. Slut."

"I'm sorry . . ."

I didn't last a minute. I hadn't had sex since I left Debbie. I'm not sure why, but I had no urge. None. Not until I'd seen Sheri again. Since the first time seeing her, I'd been jerking off half-a-dozen times a day, like a teenager. I wouldn't be jerking off any more.

I pulled her off the couch, and forced her to her knees. "Suck me, you evil bitch. Suck me hard, and then I'm gonna fuck that ass you denied me, and gave to your lovers."

She cried as she sucked me, and for some reason, that did the trick. I looked down at her, and could see she had her hand between her legs. When I was done fucking her face, I put her over the back of the couch. I could see her ass was slick. She'd been trying to prepare herself, with the cum out of her pussy. I laughed. "Still the sneaky, deceitful little cunt, aren't you?"

She whimpered as I pressed the head of my cock at the entrance to her ass, and cried out as I thrust my way inside. I wasn't nice about it. I fucked her hard, making her scream out a few times, before she finally just sobbed, clinging to the couch.

"Whose ass is this, Sheri?"

"Y-y-your ass, Marty. My husband's ass."

"Which husband would that be, you damn cheat!"

"You baby. You're my only husband."

"Damn straight."

I was too busy to talk after that, and a few minutes later I was erupting inside her bowels hard enough to see stars. I stumbled back, grabbing the back of the couch until the dizziness went away.

"What's wrong, Marty? Are you sick?"

"I'm fine, damn it. Get a washrag from the sink and clean me up, unless you like sucking shit off my dick." I was weaker than I cared to admit. I realized I hadn't eaten in two days. Like I said, I was obsessed.

I sat down on the couch, and she returned a minute later with a warm cloth and wiped me clean.

"Sit," I said, tapping the cushion beside me.

She sat down quietly.

I grabbed my dick. "Suck."

For a moment I thought she was going to say something, but she stopped. She leaned over and took me in her mouth. "Don't stop," I told her.

I relaxed, feeling the tension slowly leave my body. I'd done it. I'd found her, and I'd captured her. I could do whatever I wanted. I could bury her out back and cover her head with honey. I could tie her to my bumper and drag her twenty miles. I could beat her to a pulp, and nurse her back to health, just so I could do it again.

"That's nice," I said, stroking her hair, while she got me hard again.

"You know what happened to your lovers, don't you?"

She nodded, while still sucking. She hummed something I assumed to be affirmative.

"Did Thompson every stick his cock in you?" I couldn't forget him walking up to the house that day.

She shook her head. "uh-uh," she mumbled around my shaft.

That was good. I didn't want to have to go back there and deal with that asshole.

I let out a deep breath I suspect I'd been holding for a year, and stroked her soft flesh, while she dealt with my latest hard-on. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with her, now that I had her, but I was in no hurry. I had stocked up a few months worth of canned and dry goods. I had an endless supply of good water. I'd have to buy propane in two months, if what I'd read was right.

No, no hurry at all.