I would like to start by apologizing to those who have patiently waited for my next post. A lot has happened in the last two to three weeks. Thanks to those who reached out. I would also like to thank all those who have read and offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories.
And now, the disclaimers:
For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper... In addition:
Characters in this story may participate in one or more of the following: Smoking, consumption of adult (meaning, alcoholic) beverages, utterance of profanities.
All sexual activity is between consenting adults 18 years of age or older.
Statements or views uttered by the fictional characters in this story do not necessarily reflect the views or opinions of the author.
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
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End of "Table For Two, Ch. 01: First Blood"
I changed the security code on the door to the office and double-locked it - something I hadn't done in years. Taking one last look around, I closed the door and went back into the front room, where Allison was waiting for me.
"Ready now?" she asked.
"Let's go," I said flatly.
I locked the front door and reset the alarm system before closing it. Allison turned to me after putting the clothing bag in the trunk of my car.
"Just so you know, your joint account has been frozen. Samantha has already taken out her share. Don't wait too long to sign the papers. I hope to hear from your lawyer soon," she said.
"Trust me. I don't know what the hell kind of game you and Samantha are playing, but I promise you this. I WILL get to the bottom of it, and I promise you heads will roll. Just so you know, you and your client have declared war," I hissed. Allison's face turned white as she took in my words. "You're now my enemies. You drew first blood. And I don't like to lose an argument."
...
And now, "Table For Two, Ch. 02: Revelations"
I headed downtown, where I knew of a hotel where I could get an extended-stay room at a reasonable rate even without a reservation. ISS had used this hotel many times over the years - so much so that they gave us a nice discount. I paid for a week's stay in cash, figuring I would be back in my own house by then. I also didn't want to make it any easier for them to find me, even though I figured they were having me followed.
The clerk was surprised to see me hand over a small pile of $100 bills, but he said nothing as he put them in his cash register and handed me a key card. A bellhop took my luggage and followed me to the room on the 11th floor.
After putting everything away, I ordered dinner from the hotel's kitchen, which I knew was open until midnight. Then I pulled out my phone and blocked Samantha's number. I knew several divorced men who had gotten into trouble simply by replying to texts and phone calls. My next action was to call my boss, Jack Iverson, to let him know what had happened.
"Damn, son, that's cold," old man Iverson said. "Tell you what, I'll call Alice Hawkins and see if I can get you in to see her first thing in the morning. I'll text you when I finish with her."
"Thanks, boss, I appreciate that," I told him as we ended the call. Alice Hawkins is a family law attorney who hates cheaters with a passion. I got a text from Jack about 30 minutes later confirming my 9:30 a.m. appointment with Alice. He also offered me the company's private investigative services at no charge. I accepted and sent a "thank you" text in response.
I grabbed my laptop and set it up, connecting to the hotel's WiFi. I first checked our joint account, and it was frozen. But not before Samantha had withdrawn nearly 80 percent of it.
Our joint credit cards had been paid off and canceled, and our joint savings account was also mostly gone. Fortunately, all of the monthly bills had already been paid. I logged into my disability account, which was at a different bank. I was relieved to see that it was still available. I now felt vindicated in not telling Samantha about that account.
I next logged into my home surveillance system and saw there were two videos already saved to the cloud. I pulled up the first video and saw Samantha and Allison coming into the house. A man in a well-tailored suit accompanied Samantha. Interesting, I thought to myself. Looking at the timestamp, I realized this happened shortly after I left.
"Well, how did it go? Did he sign the papers?" Samantha asked after they were all inside the front room.
"No," Allison said. "I told you he probably wouldn't. Legally, he has thirty days to respond. By the way, you didn't tell me he would be armed."
"Armed? You mean, like, with a gun?"
"Yes, Samantha, that's what 'armed' usually means," Allison answered sarcastically. "I was never so scared in my life," she declared.
"He used to be a federal agent," Samantha quietly told her. "He was shot in the line of duty. That's why he has that cane. I know he has a concealed carry permit."
"Oh wonderful," Allison said. "You could've said something to me in advance."
"Wait," the man interjected. "Are you saying he pulled a gun on you?"
"Yes," Allison responded. "He went through every room in the house almost as if he was expecting someone to be here. Who did he work for? Do you know?"
"No, not exactly," Samantha told her. "Some kind of a task force. He never talked about his work much, though. I know he once told my father that he killed people he didn't throw in jail."
"Task force? Interesting. I'll have to look into that," Allison said thoughtfully.
"Fucking terrific," the man exclaimed. "A mad former fed with a gun. What do you think he's gonna do when he learns the whole truth?"
"Settle down. He's not gonna do anything," Allison said. "Yes, he's angry, and to be honest, he has every right to be. But he's not stupid. And he's not gonna learn the whole truth. One other thing, Samantha."
"What?"
"Why didn't you tell me this was his home before you two got married?"
"I didn't think it would matter," Samantha answered. "Why?"
"Why? Are you kidding me? Technically speaking, you have no right to this place in a divorce."
"But you said I deserved to have it."
"And I meant it. But you just made my job a whole lot harder," Allison spat.
"So, does that mean we can set him up now?" the man asked. "I've got a whole thumb drive chock full of images and video right here with me. It won't take me but a second to put it on his computer. Then we'll have him dead to rights. He'll be in jail before he knows what hit him."
"Put that away, right now," Allison commanded. "We're not at that stage yet. Besides, he took his backup drive when he left and he locked the door to his office. I think he also changed the security code to that lock."
"So?" the man asked. "Give me a tire iron. I can use that to break through this door. Plus, Sam gave me the password to his computer."
"Don't even think of it," Allison said, her face red. "We're going to have to be careful here. Don't do anything rash. You hear me? Just give me some time to think things through. I'll need to find out everything I can about your husband, Samantha. I have federal contacts. Let me see what I can get from them. In the meantime, you two cool your jets. And don't do anything stupid, you hear me, Alan? We don't work in the same department, but I'm still senior to you. Got it?"
"I hear ya," the man sheepishly said. At least now I had a first name. And I knew just how far they would go to set me up. But why? Allison left the house, and the video ended when Samantha and Alan walked up the stairs.
The next video was taken in the master bedroom. Alan took his jacket and tie off, throwing them on the back of my chair. He followed up with the rest of his clothing as Samantha undressed. When she was nude, he took her in his arms.
"C'mon, Sam, why don't we get under the covers and enjoy ourselves?" he asked with a wry smile. Samantha looked up at him as she returned his smile.
"I guess it wouldn't hurt," she said. "After all, this will be our bedroom before long. You might as well get used to it." She turned and spotted my ring on the dresser. "Oh, look at this. Mikey left his wedding ring. How thoughtful. Maybe I can pawn it with the rest of his crap." Both of them laughed at that. She tossed the ring back on the dresser before returning to the bed.
"So, which side is mine?" Alan asked, and Samantha pointed to the side closest to the door.
"That side," she told him. Alan pulled the covers back and got in the bed. Samantha followed, climbing on top of him afterward. "This is so nice, not having to worry about whether or not my weight will bother your leg."
Talk about devastating! This was the first time I had heard her complain about my leg. It usually didn't bother me unless she sat on it for too long, but even then, I never let her know. Until now, I thought my injury never bothered her.
"That's right. Ol' Mikey's a cripple," Alan sneered. "Well, I'll have you know I'm in perfect shape. Gimme that body of yours." Samantha giggled as she wriggled herself on top of him.
"Put that big cock inside me and fuck me silly," she demanded. Alan reached down and adjusted his cock so she could impale herself on him. "Oh yeah, that's it," Samantha cooed as she took him inside her pussy. "Now, fuck me. Make me your woman. Do it! Fuck a baby in me."
"Aren't you still on the pill?" he asked as he bucked inside her.
"No. I quit taking those today," Samantha told him. This was new, as I never knew she was on the pill. She knew that I had a low sperm count, which, according to several doctors I had seen over the years, was something I was born with. But again, we had discussed it, and Sam never seemed concerned about it. It just meant the odds of my fathering a child were reduced.
"Then get ready to be pregnant," Alan said as he fucked into her harder. He rolled over while buried inside her and spread her legs wide as he pumped into her harder and faster.
