| Chapter 23 Alexis melted into Luke’s arms as he wiped away her fears, her anxieties, her inferior complexities that were driving her nuts. ''Shhh...'' he cooed, taking her hand and leading her from the garden. ''We both need a release.'' She fell against his side, one of his arms snaking around her side as they walked back to the house. ''Will you make love to me?'' she asked. ''If that's what you want.'' “Now,” She demanded. “Right now. We can’t find each other, but I want you, deep inside me.” Luke grinned. He wanted nothing more than make love to this ravishing woman who was made of invisible steel. He drew her towards him, kissing her full on the lips. Her taste was sweet, strong, beautiful. They walked back towards Wyndemere. Alexis leaned against Luke while they walked through the long hallways up to the room Alexis was using. It was tastefully, if ornately decorated, just as all the rooms at Wyndemere were. The heavy oak 4 poster was set high off the ground. A plush brown love seat was set before the fireplace. There was no need for a fire on this warm July evening. Luke’s heart was hot with desire for Alexis, for his Natasha. As for Alexis, she felt as though she might explode with longing for this man, this wonderous crazy man who had seized her heart while she wasn’t looking. He might still have his Angel in his heart, but she knew he loved her, that she was what he wanted, only Alexis. Luke brushed his hands through Alexis’ lush brown hair, feeling the silky strands linger in his fingers. His lips met hers hungrily. “Luke!” Alexis scolded. “Give me a minute.” She disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. Luke waited impatiently, disrobing himself. He laid his pants, his shirt, and underclothes on the sedate armchair that matched the brown loveseat. He put his shoes and socks neatly beneath the chair. He pulled down the covers of the bed, and turned on the bedside lamp. As he sat down on the bed, Alexis came out of the bathroom. She wore a blue negligee that barely covered her slender hips. Her audible gasp could be heard as she realized Luke was entirely naked. Luke stood up as Alexis approached him, her brown eyes wide. “You like?” He suggested. Alexis smiled, a soft, demure smile that belied the urgent craving she felt for Luke’s love. Her long fingers stroked his broad chest. Her kisses touched him in sensitive spots, eliciting a moan of wonder from Luke. He grabbed her wrists as she aroused him in unspeakable fashion. **EDITED** * * * * * Emily woke to find the bed she had shared with Anders was empty. For a minute she lay quietly, her emotions numb, her mind as empty as the bed beside her. Slowly the present came back to her. Her body felt a sudden onslaught of guilt, of anger, of fear. Her emotions threatened to overcome her mind. She couldn’t have made love to Anders, could she? Not with Lucky…Oh, No! Emily sat up hastily. She looked around frantically for her clothes. Neatly folded on a chair were some jeans, a shirt, and underclothes. There was a note on top. “Emily. Here are some clothes for you. I have to check the house and make sure we are safe. Don’t go out. Do not leave the premises. I believe we are being watched. Stay inside, for both our sakes.” Emily stared at the note. Anders had overtaken his father, hadn’t he? What was there to be afraid of now? Lucky was dead…Emily’s heart screamed at the thought. There was nothing left to lose. She had to get home. She had to tell Luke and Laura and tell her parents she was safe. Anders had saved her, but now she had to get home. She had to forget the night before. She grabbed the clothes and raced into the shower. Maybe if she got showered and dressed, she could get going before Anders got back. Emily only wanted one thing now, to go home. To mourn Lucky in private. The hot water was inviting to Emily as she stepped into the shower stall. Taking the soap that was in the dish, she lathered her body. Usually, she loved the shower, the feeling of the soap on her skin, and rinsing away the dirt. But today, the soap didn’t take away the dirt of yesterday. She scrubbed her arms and legs harder. Then she touched her private parts. That’s where she wasn’t clean. The filth wouldn’t go away. Emily scrubbed and scrubbed with her washcloth. Finally, she was just using the soap. Nothing worked. “Please,” she begged to the air. “Please. I want to be clean. Please, God,” Her voice was tortured over the sound of the water rushing over her wet brown hair, her slender body. “I won’t ever be clean,” Emily cried out loud. This time her voice was almost a scream. “Never. Oh, God what have I done?” She continued to scrub her body till it was raw. But it still wasn’t enough. The hot water grew cold, but Emily didn’t feel it. She slipped the bar of soap inside her, scrubbing harder yet, irritating herself where it mattered most. When she felt the blood, she sank down, her body against the faucet, barely feeling the cold metal on her back. Her mind receded to where she was safe, to where Lucky would take care of her, to where once more, she was young and innocent. It was about fifteen minutes later that Anders came home. He was almost euphoric remembering Emily, remembering her innocence, her spirit entwined with his. He wondered if she would still be in bed. Softly, he entered the house with the groceries he had gotten at the local store. He put the bags in the kitchen, then walked into the bedroom. Agast, he stared at the empty bed. “Emily?” He yelled. The silence that hit him was deafening. Walking over to the chair he had laid her clothes on, he swore out loud. “Damn!” Anders was certain Emily was gone. He had lost her. She had awakened and run away. Just as his heart plummeted to the floor at Emily’s betrayal, he heard the shower. Turning in an instant towards the bathroom, he tried to open the door. At first it seemed to be locked, but Anders knew that was impossible. There was no such thing as a locked bathroom in his life. He pushed on the door. Probably the steam had jammed it. “Emily? Emily, open the door!” Anders yelled. Now he was worried. How long had she been in there anyway? Anders pushed harder on the door. Finally he used all his weight and crashed the door in. The resounding crescendo should have scared Emily to death. The shower curtain barely moved. Anders took a deep breath as he walked the few feet to the shower. Carefully, he pulled the shower curtain back. For the first time in his life, he was completely horrified by the picture of Emily, lying in a her own watered blood in the tub. “Emily!” Anders screamed. This was a scream of anxiety and fear. He picked Emily up quickly and raced with her to the bedroom. How much damage had she done to herself? Where had she hurt herself and how? Anders couldn’t figure it out. He grabbed some towels from the linen closet in the bathroom and softly rubbed Emily dry. She never responded. Too late, Anders realized he had gone too far. She had given herself to him, not out of love, but out of shock. He didn’t care. He wanted her and he would have her again. Helping Emily to lay on her side, he could feel himself aching with desire again, even as he dried her off. He dried her hair with a towel, then patted her skin again, though it didn’t need it. Breathing hard, Anders knew he had to control himself. He couldn’t. His fingers touched Emily where they shouldn’t. Before he knew it his lips were on hers. He wanted a response so badly, but Emily didn’t give him one. “Please, Emily,” Anders begged. “Please, love me,” “Dirty,” Emily whispered. “So dirty. I’ll never be clean. Never.” A suppressed rage filled Anders’ soul. He covered Emily with a blanket, then bolted from the house. If he stayed, he would surely kill her. Outside, he grabbed an ax and started chopping wood. His yells of rage could be heard for hundreds of feet. Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone to hear him. * * * * * Celine’s face was difficult to resist as Stefan contemplated her request. She wanted to make love. He really didn't have time. She pouted, her red lips wet and glistening as she stared at him with eager eyes. He could feel himself give in to temptation. ''How do you want to play?'' She tossed her hair back in victory. ''Rough,'' she said in a low sensuous tone. ''Alright! I give in,'' he announced, swiftly tossing her over his shoulder. She moaned in anticipation. He pulled the long forgotten keys to Helena's room out of the lock and placed them in his pocket before bounding off down the hallway. ''Celine shall get what Celine deserves.” Stefan barely felt Celine on his shoulder. His hand on her butt as he held her made him hurry towards their bedroom. He briefly thought of taking Celine back to Helena’s room and making her witness their lovemaking, but what he had with Celine was private. He didn’t want his mother witnessing his most intimate moments with his wife. He burst into his bedroom, and unceremoniously dropped Celine on the bed. She sat up, still giggling. “You want to play rough?” He grinned. Celine nodded eagerly. Stefan ripped off her blouse in one full swoop. In return, Celine stood up. She took the two sides of Stefan’s shirt and pulled the shirt completely off. Then she started for his pants. “Oh, no, my dear,” Stefan replied. “I’ll take care of the pants. You take care of yourself.” **EDITED** * * * * * Lucky stared at the video camera. Strapped to the armchair, the leather restraints cutting into his bare arms, he wondered how he could kill Anders. The rage in his heart was murderous. Worse than when he had wanted to kill Faison. His world crashed around him when Emily made love to Anders or so he thought. Until he saw her in the shower. His slow realization of the pain she was in was like a dagger, piercing his heart, and shredding it into shards that could never be put back together again. His knuckles turned white as she sank to the shower floor, her face blank and broken. “Emily!” Lucky screamed. In answer to his cry, the video went off. The door to the darkened room opened and a bright light went on. It was so bright, Lucky closed his eyes. He opened them wide as Faison’s hand went around his neck. “Well, well, young Spencer. I guess you’ve had about all you can take for now, hmmm?” Faison taunted. “I didn’t expect Ms. Quartermaine to react so violently to making love to my son, but I suppose that was to be expected. He’s not nearly as much of a man as you or your father. That’s what makes you such a good adversary, Lucky. You never seem to give in, even when I think I have broken you. Except for now. Now you look as though I could bury you alive and you wouldn’t care.” “You’ve practically destroyed Emily,” Lucky ground out. “She’ll never recover from what he did to her.” “He made love to her. That’s all,” Faison laughed. “He didn’t hurt her.” “He did. She was in shock. She thought I was dead, and she wasn’t thinking. He took advantage of her. He knows it. The rotten…” “Now, now, Lucky,’ Faison said, tightening his hold around Lucky’s neck. “Anders may be on my bad list, but he is still my son. Watch your tongue.” “I’ll kill him,” Lucky gasped, his face turning red. His hands fought the restraints that held him down. His anger was boiling over and he didn’t care what Faison did any more. It was too late. Too late for him and too late for Emily. “You are such a fool, Lucky,” Faison told him for the umpteenth time. “Anders is long gone from your reach. You’ll never leave here. Never.” Lucky couldn’t talk as Faison’s hands encircled his neck. Faison was intent on what he was doing. He was going to kill Lucky this time, Lucky was sure. It was a slow tortuous death that Lucky felt, each second an eternity, each second a reminder of the people he was leaving behind, each second a wonder of what might have been. Suddenly the light in the room went out. Two guards raced into the room. They pulled Faison off Lucky. “What the? What are you doing?” Faison cried. “Get your filthy hands off me or I will personally kill you.” “Sorry, Mr. Faison. Mr. Anders said you could only go so far with Mr. Spencer. He is not to be killed. At least, not yet.” “What I do with Mr. Spencer is my business,” Faison cried angrily, his own face turning red as Lucky gasped for air. The tables turned as the guard hit Faison across the face, then knocked him unconscious to the floor with a swipe across the neck. Faison fell like a sack of concrete. Lucky stared in amazement. Then he looked down at the leather restraints that held him close. Nothing had changed, except for who was in control. As usual. It wasn’t him. The guards left him and Faison, alone. “Please, Emily, please, hang on,” Lucky prayed silently. But all he could see was Emily half sitting, half lying in the tub, the water turning red beneath her. He had done this to her. His enemies had destroyed the most beautiful woman he had ever known. He closed his eyes in defeat. His breathing was soft and even as he started to fall asleep. Through the heating ducts, the air conditioning seemed to kick in. Lucky was lost in the world of darkness. The air he breathed was odorless, but it rendered him unconscious. Anders’ orders were clear. This was the beginning. Lucky didn’t know it, but this could be the end, for both him and Faison. If you would like to read the whole, unedited version of this chapter, and are over the age of 18, email either GrandDuchess or Angelolyte and we would be happy to send it to you. |