02

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

As was the case with Book One, Book Two of Unhappily Ever After

is a long, novel-length story that recounts the trials and tribulations experienced by a veteran who returns to civilian life and pursues a career path begun before joining the Australian Defence Force. He is forced to resurrect his 'stay alive' skills when he is betrayed by his wife, whose lover puts a hit order out on him.

Book Two picks up Stoney Bourke's life after he had been ambushed and critically wounded during what he hopes will be the final assassination attempt. Despite having witnessed the demise of his would-be killer, he knows there are others out there who want to hang his scalp on their belts.

---oooBJSooo---

I apologise for the time it has taken to get the second book in this duology finished but life and near death have a way of interfering with the best of our intentions. As so much time had elapsed between Book One and Book Two by the time I got back to it, I decided to do a full rewrite.

Although many of the points raised in the readers' comments from Book One had already been addressed in Book Two, a few additional things were brought to my attention that I thought were valid. Hopefully, I have addressed those points in the rewrite.

In an attempt to please as many readers as possible, I have left a few typos and technical and procedural errors in Book Two of Unhappily Ever After to satisfy the nit-pickers.

As each book tells its own story, I'd recommend reading Book One first to familiarise yourself with the backstory and the characters. Despite Book Two containing chapters that could be posted under different category headings, I have posted all ten chapters under Loving Wives for the sake of continuity.

Like Book One, Book Two will be posted in seven parts, all of which have been submitted simultaneously, with a request to the moderator that they be published on consecutive days.

I trust you will enjoy my offering, but I will be happy to receive your comments either way. It should be noted, however, that I have blocked anonymous comments. I know that might inconvenience a few readers, but my philosophy is that 'better one commenter be inconvenienced than ten trolls be allowed to spew their vitriol'.

---oooBJSooo---

Please Note:

The right of Black Jack Steele to be identified as the author of this work - Unhappily Ever After - Book Two - is asserted under worldwide copyright laws. All rights are reserved.

---oooBJSooo---

UNHAPPILY EVER AFTER

BOOK TWO

Copyright © Black Jack Steele 2024

CHAPTER ONE

Prologue

It was as if I knew in advance what was going to happen as soon as I turned into the setback at the entrance to my property. That was when I saw Charlie's Porche parked beside the gate.

The next thing I recollected was that she was exiting her car looking dishevelled, and she began firing a pistol at me. I remember thinking that it wasn't her regular weapon. She carried a compact Glock 19. But the pistol she was firing on this occasion was a Glock 17; possibly one of those stolen from my armoury by her lover, Todd Manyweather. It looked big in her hands.

Speak of the Devil. The next thing I remember is Manyweather standing behind Charlie and her falling to the ground at his feet before he fired a single shot at me. I hadn't felt any of Charlie's rounds, but I certainly felt his. It hit me exactly where he aimed; right in the middle of my stomach. It drove me backwards and knocked the wind out of me but didn't put me down.

The next memory flash had me holding a Glock 17 and firing two shots at Manyweather as he disappeared into the scrub behind Charlie's car. As soon as I saw him go down, I dropped down beside Charlie to see if she was dead or alive. As it turned out, she was alive, but barely. I stayed with her, comforting her as I had done with a few of my brothers-in-arms who had been wounded on the battlefield until she took her final breath.

As I watched the light fade from her eyes, I sensed that my adulterous wife, Samantha, and her lover, Nathan Kingston, were standing behind me. They were both laughing.

"Nooooo!" I roared as Charlie's head lolled to one side, her sightless eyes staring up at me. My scream woke me, just as it always did.

---oooBJSooo---

CHAPTER TWO

May 26 - August 04, 2018

Stoney Begins a New Life

My stay in the hospital and in rehab after the shootout at the gate to my grazing property had been longer than I would have liked. Unfortunately, I had no say in the matter due to my head injury. As the doctor in the ICU had predicted, the injury to my spleen and stomach muscles had had me getting about like a half-opened pocket knife for a few weeks, but the main concern had been the damage Manyweather's bullet had caused to my face and head. Try as hard as I might, I couldn't seem to regain my balance. That, and the ongoing counselling and psychiatric sessions, kept me in rehab for three frustrating months.

Sure, I could have signed myself out. But I couldn't see the point in jumping the gun if I was going to have to have someone hold my hand whenever I went for a walk, not to mention having to arrange for someone to drive me to occupational therapy sessions. Besides, the psychiatric counselling I was receiving was helping me with the symptoms of PTSD that had emerged following my hospitalisation.

Despite the death and destruction I'd seen in Iraq and Afghanistan, depression and rage weren't things I'd had to deal with in the past, and I knew I had to find ways to handle them if I was to have any hope of returning to a normal life. I'd seen too many of my fellow service brothers end their lives needlessly because they had either not been offered the help they needed or had refused it when it had been offered. I had too many things I wanted to achieve in whatever time I had left, and I didn't want to become another statistic of the 'Global War On Terrorism'.

The counselling sessions also provided me with a great deal of insight into the psychology of submissiveness that Samantha and Charlie had been caught up in. It appears that not all submissive people are meek and mild, which is what I'd seen in Manyweather's wife when I'd met her at one or two of my company's functions. Some hold down positions of authority, which they have either achieved as a result of structural promotion - which is how Charlie had obtained her promotion while serving in Ie military police - or by being good at their jobs or being promoted as a result of pleasing those with authority over them; as in Samatha's case. Of course, in her case, there had also been a sexual element to pleasing those she wanted to impress.

"But submissives are not necessarily submissive in all aspects of their lives," Dr Kernke explained. "And can be quite assertive when in a supervisory role or in a role where they feel they have the upper hand. In those situations, they will often assume their dominant partner's role with those he or she sees as lesser beings.

"And that opens a whole new can of worms because they tend to lose sight of the fact that a healthy Dom/sub relationship is based on acceptance and trust. If the person he or she is attempting to dominate either isn't aware of the rules of the game or isn't willing to be dominated, any attempt at dominance may be seen as bullying and can result in the situation becoming toxic.

"That's what I believe happened with you and Samantha; although, in essence, she was asserting her dominance of you - albeit subtly at first - from before you were married. What she didn't realise was that, while you loved her - and, as an expression of that love, you were willing to give in to her even when you didn't agree with her - you weren't about to cop being bullied. Nor did she or her master - because that's what he had become by then - realise that you would never accept being cuckolded.

"And that, as it turned out, was their biggest mistake. They weren't prepared for your refusal. Nor were they prepared for the blowback."

We picked up our discussion of submissives at our next session. After talking about my immediate problems, Dr Kernke turned the conversation back to the women who had been instrumental in the destruction of my life.

"Charlotte's relationship with Todd Manyweather was different to that between Samantha and Nathan Kingston because it went well beyond the normal Dom/sub parameters," she said. "As you had worked out, he was a psychopath who demanded total submission to him by both his troops and his sexual partners.

"By the time he and Charlotte had separated when he was rotated out of Afghanistan, he had her in complete subjection to him. She would do anything he demanded of her. To him, however, she was just another plaything. Someone to satisfy his sexual needs while he was away from home. He didn't care any more about her than a cat cares about a mouse it is playing with before eating it.

"But that wasn't the case with Charlotte. She had become hooked on the dominance he had introduced her to. And, as much as she might have thought she could be happy with you, you weren't ever going to give her what she craved without a major change in your psychological makeup.

"That's why - like Pavlov's dogs - she responded as she did when you reintroduced them. She was pre-conditioned to react to him in that way. So much so, I believe, that it would have taken years of therapy to deprogram her."

In a later session, Dr Kernke explained why Kingston and Manyweather had reacted to my rejection of their cuckolding invitations the way they did.

"In both cases, their reaction to your rejection of their dominance goes way beyond that relating to a kink or fetish. By throwing both women off your home property, you refused to accept that either of these men had any power over you. And that's what the domination and submission game is all about: Power. The power of one person over another.

"Kingston is both a narcissist and a bully. And, like most bullies, he is as insecure as those he dominates; perhaps even more so because his narcissism demands constant reinforcement. After having laughed off his attempt at publicly humiliating you and turning the tables on those he had arranged to give you a lesson in obedience, he felt he had to prove he was more powerful than you by having you taken out of the game.

"Of course - once again, like most bullies - he didn't have the balls to do the job himself, so he employed others to do it for him. When those attempts failed, he turned to Manyweather - who, he'd learned, hated you as much as he did - to accomplish his goal.

"Being the psychopath

he

was - and as mad as a hatter, to boot - Manyweather was incensed at your reaction to his cream pie offer and your throwing Charlotte off your property the same way you'd done with your wife. He couldn't allow his followers to see that you'd stolen a march on him and subjugated his authority, so he gladly accepted the challenge.

"'Mad as a hatter' is a technical psychiatric term, by the way. It means 'batshit crazy'.

"The rest, as it seems you don't remember, is history. Manyweather and Charlotte Brown are dead, and Nathan Kingston and the former Samantha Bourke are currently holidaying at Her Majesty's pleasure."

It appeared that Dr Hannah Kernke was another of those who doubted the veracity of my amnesia story. Thankfully, it was a subject she hadn't raised after our first couple of sessions.

---oooBJSooo---

After three months in rehab, I was looking forward to being released back into the wild so I could start rebuilding my life; a life that was in tatters after being publicly labelled as a drug lord and an all-around bad guy. Not only had my personal reputation been destroyed, but the business I had built from scratch was now operating under new management with a new name. That meant any contribution I might make to its future success would have to be done from the shadows. Until my name was cleared - if it ever could be - I would have to function as a ghost.

But, as the pundits say, "When one door closes, another opens; either that or it slams in your face". In my case, it was of the opening kind.

One of the options I'd considered during my period of rehabilitation - and the one I would have preferred - was to disappear for a few months. Unfortunately, although it appeared I was no longer a suspect in any of the crimes for which I had been set up - for the time being, at least - I was still required to stay in the area. The Public Prosecutor had told me that I would probably be called as a witness for the prosecution when those responsible for my fit-up were brought to trial. And because of the wide-ranging scope of the charges they would face, it could be a year or more before that happened.

That meant I would have to put my travel plans on the back burner until I was given the all-clear; which was probably a good thing, as I wasn't physically or mentally ready for the trip I wanted to undertake. The delay also gave me time to sort out several other issues that had arisen during my enforced downtime; one of which was my growing affection for a certain young female police officer.

---oooBJSooo---

Despite our relationship having started on shaky ground - Constable Buchannan was fitting me with handcuffs on the night we'd first met, for Christ's sake - we had felt an attraction for each other. Well, she had been doing the feeling while delving into the pocket of my trousers while searching for my car keys. Whether it was because of what she found in addition to my car keys or because our stars lined up that night, we both experienced an instant connection.

Of course, with me being suspected of everything from the extinction of the dinosaurs to being the shooter on the grassy knoll and her being a cop, neither of us was in a position to do anything about it. Besides, after twice being betrayed, there was no way I would allow myself to become entangled with another woman this side of Doom's day. In fact, after suffering at the hands of Samantha and Charlie, I was strongly considering either entering the priesthood or switching teams.

But she didn't let up. She gave me her card with her phone number written on the back after that first arrest.

Her molestation didn't stop there, however. She felt me up again while taking me into custody for the second time... and again the first time she and her operational partner, Mitch Moyston, visited me in the hospital.

I say 'the first time' because she became my most frequent visitor, both while I was in the hospital and, later, in rehab. Once all the charges had been dropped and I had been advised that I was no longer a person of interest, she would visit me at least every second day. Those visits became daily after I moved to the rehab centre, which was closer to her home.

It was during her visits that I learned about her past and came to understand why she had joined the police service.

Her parents had instilled in her a deep sense of right and wrong. But they had also taught her that, while many people saw life as a monochrome spectrum, with black at one end and white at the other, they ignored the various shades of grey in between.

Being good Christians, they had explained to her that most of humankind lived in that grey area. Very few were absolutely evil, and, to their way of thinking, only one man had displayed absolute goodness.

They also taught her that the world in which those grey people lived was filled with colour; a blessing she should not ignore.

In addition to calibrating I's moral compass, her parents recognised her competitive spirit and encouraged her to participate in the sports she loved. But they also recognised that being a girl - their only child, in fact - she should be able to protect herself. So they enrolled her in a martial arts school at the age of seven.

By her last year at high school, she had attained her black belt in Karate and was helping to train those in the lower rankings.

That desire to help people - combined with her deep sense of justice - made her decide to enrol in a Bachelor of Criminology and Criminal Justice course at one of the city's major universities. Its close proximity to her home would help cut down on her overheads, and she could travel to and from her campus using public transport.

Sadly, her mother was diagnosed with stage-four cervical cancer early in the first year of Kate's tertiary studies. Unfortunately, her condition was untreatable, and she passed away within four months of her diagnosis.

Having already sat for her exams and handed in all her assignments, Kate approached the Dean of the School of Criminal Studies and asked for special leave to defer her second-semester studies on compassionate grounds. Her request was approved.

But while

she

was devastated by her mother's death, her father was inconsolable. He and his wife had loved each other deeply. So deeply, in fact, that they were known by their friends as the Siamese Twins. Where one of them was seen, they knew the other wouldn't be far away.

Kate's concern for her father's well-being was well-founded. He simply gave up living. As much as he loved his daughter, he couldn't live without his one true love. Three months after his wife died, he, too, was gone.

His daughter had lovingly helped him into his bed one night, and when she checked on him in the morning, he had entered a sleep from which he would never wake. The doctor's diagnosis of a massive heart attack was confirmed by the Coroner.

"I didn't grieve for him anywhere as much as I had for my mother," she said when she told me about it. "In fact, I was pleased for him. I know that sounds callous. But if you'd seen the smile on his face, I'm sure you would have felt the same.

"Whether he felt any pain or not, I don't know. But what I do know is that he was looking forward to being with Mum once again. Seeing that smile made me think she might even have been in the room with him when his time came. I like to think they walked hand in hand to wherever they were going, just as they did when they were both alive."

Tears cascaded down Kate's face as she recounted her story, so I pulled her tightly to my chest to comfort her. She stayed nestled into my body for a long time afterwards. Truth be told, I didn't want to let her go.

This was the first time I had actually held her. All the other times she had visited me, she had sat on a chair some distance away from me. Apart from the times she'd frisked me in the line of duty - and those times she had kissed me on the cheek at the end of a hospital or rehab centre visit - this was the first time we'd had any physical contact.

As she sat snuggled up against me, I kissed her hair and took in the scent of her shampoo. I was also rubbing her back in a comforting motion. There was nothing erotic in my actions. I was merely trying to soothe her distress.

After more than ten minutes of silence, she lifted her head and pulled mine down to hers. Her kiss wasn't a little peck that said, 'Thank you'. It was one that was filled with passion. It was so intense that I felt a tightening in the crotch of the sweatpants I was wearing.

She broke the connection between our lips for just long enough for us to catch our breath before pulling me back down again. This time, the tongues came into play, and I didn't want our kiss to stop. Neither did she, it appeared. When our lips separated for the second time, we were both out of breath, and I had to move on the seat to adjust my rampant erection. I smiled at my discomfort.