Filling the Void Ch. 01

"Emily honey"... Patricia Holmes sighed trying as she had for the last four days to break through the fog her daughter was in. "How long are you going to do this?" she asked softly, desperate to penetrate the haze that her daughter had been living in since the accident.

"Do what?" Emily asked hazily.

"Lock yourself away in this house. Hide yourself away from the world." Patricia explained. "You have got to get out of this house."

"I can't think of anywhere to go." Emily breathed honestly, realizing that had the accident not happened, she'd be scrambling around the kitchen. Her daughter Avery would be sitting on her favorite stool, leaning on the counter, intently listening to some random story Emily would invent. Avery's wide blue eyes would be following her around the kitchen as she prepared lunch.

"I know you're hurting honey but you have to get past this." Patricia said firmly, pulling Emily from her reverie of memories. "Do you want dinner?" she asked softly.

"I want my daughter." Emily said numbly. "How exactly am I supposed to get past that?"

"I don't know. But I know you don't do it by locking yourself in here like some hermit." Patricia explained, praying for the words to soothe her suffering. "Now's probably not the best time to tell you this Emily... But Matthew Chasen was released on bail today. He's out now."

"Really?" Emily questioned, smiling for the first time. "You know what Mama... maybe you're right... maybe I do need to get out of this house." She said thoughtfully.

"You stay clear of that man Emily." Patricia warned, concern filling her voice for the first time since the accident.

"I am. I think I'm gonna just get out of town for a bit." Emily said rising tiredly. "I need to get my head on straight... I can't do that here."

"Maybe that's a good idea." Patricia nodded thoughtfully.

The image that caught her attention, as she glanced into the wall sized mirror on the bar room wall startled her a bit. The blonde dye and relaxant that laid her natural curls flat, was such a drastic change that she barely even recognized herself. Even she couldn't deny that she made a sexy picture in her poured on jeans, quarter inch high heeled boots and low cut white button up silk blouse. It didn't take her eyes but a moment to locate Matthew Chasen.

It took her much longer than a moment to suppress the desire to ram the pool stick he was aiming, down his throat. Nervously she took a seat, at a table in the corner of the smoked filled room. Her eyes didn't leave Matthew, not when she placed her drink order, not when the waitress returned with the apple martini she had no intention of drinking. Instead she watched the carefree man's laughing jovial face. To watch him as she was in that moment, one would never know he was solely responsible for the death of a five year old, a mere week earlier.

"Hey uh Matt..." Brandon Brewster, Matthew's new found best friend said, leaning idly back against the pool table. "Looks like you got a little blonde bombshell in the corner scoping you out." Brandon pointed out.

"Yeah..." Matt smiled, showing off his deep dimples, barely sparing the blonde a side ways glance." "She's been eyeing me since she walked in."

"Dude, why in the hell are you still talking to me?" Brandon asked confusedly. "That bitch is smoking hot."

"No way bro. I'm not interested." Matt laughed at his fair haired companion. "Despite the way she's dressed, I guarantee you, that girl's looking for way more than I care to offer."

"The way she's eye fucking you, I guarantee she ain't looking for nothing but a party tonight." Brandon countered, turning fully to study the topic of their conversation. "See, she's not shy. A shy chic would've lowered her eyes when she noticed we realized she was staring. Go make your move man." Brandon demanded.

"Man, I got too much on my mind." Mathew refused taking two of the tequila shots the waitress brought over to them.

"All the more reason for a freaky ass distraction and I betcha an eight ball that, that girl is a straight up freak. Now go ask her to dance before I do." Brandon chided.

"Fine." Matt gave in, only to shut his friend up. Hesitantly, he set his pool stick aside and crossed the room, imitating a far greater deal of confidence than he actually felt.

Emily's heart froze in her chest as the man that she wanted to see dead, began moving closer to her. She knew by his confident swagger that she was his intended mark for the night. That had been her plan. She couldn't understand why her hand trembled when she reached for her drink. Thoughtlessly, she downed the sweet liquid courage before he made it to the edge of the table.

"Can I buy you another?" he asked, motioning the waitress over to the table as he took a seat directly across from Emily.

"Looks like you're going to whether I want one or not." Emily breathed, forcing a smile and charm in her voice that she couldn't bring herself to feel.

"Don't be snotty ma'am." Matt scolded, not at all liking the condescension in the woman's soft accented voice. "If you didn't want me coming over here you wouldn't have spent the last half hour staring at me like I was a t-bone and you were a starving dog. Now be nice and drink your drink." He smiled as the waitress sat another glass in front of her, and two shots accompanied by a beer in front of him.

"I'm not a dog... But I am starving." Emily laughed taken aback by his abrasive words, though not at all surprised. "How's the food in this place."

"Honestly..." he said leaning across the table to whisper to her confidentially, "It's a heart attack waiting to happen, but very edible." He assured her. "If you like... I could take you somewhere that the food isn't so hazardous on your health." He offered.

"Don't bother." Emily laughed flipping through the three page laminated menu, knowing she'd need food on her stomach to absorb the alcohol she'd be drinking before the night was over.

"Fair enough..." Matt smiled amusedly. "But don't be crying to me in the morning when you have a stomach ache."

"In the morning?" She asked with a lifted brow, disturbed by his calm and even more so by his arrogance. "Don't count your chickens Mister." She said in a tone she hoped would sound flirtatious.

"I'm not counting anything." He said, sitting back quietly as she ordered a rare t-bone, to his amusement, with all the trimmings that accompanied the meal. He had to admit he was impressed to meet a woman that wasn't scared to eat for fear of ruining her figure.

"Im Matt Chasen" he said once again leaning across the table and resting on his elbows, interlocking his fingers together thoughtlessly.

"Your friend is looking lonely Matt." She jested, turning her attention to the man Matt had abandoned for her company. The fair haired man was surrounded with a gang of young eligible women, that didn't appear to her to be old enough to be in the bar legally.

"Yeah..." Matt laughed a slow drawn out agreeing word, not needing to turn to know that Brandon had surrounded himself with a flock of women. "I think that is the only reason he comes here."

"And your reason for coming here?" she questioned feigning interest.

"Same as most peoples I guess. I'm here to forget a fucked up week." He explained downing a shot of tequila, chasing the potent liquor with the bitter bite of the ice cold beer.

"Why was your week fucked up Mr. Chasen?" she questioned, propping her chin into her upturned palm, studying him intently.

"I completely totaled my truck out last week." He frowned, averting his eyes evasively. "It took me three days of shopping to actually found another that half ass suited me."

"You were stressed over your stupid truck." She snapped before she had a chance to silence the anger in her voice.

"Hey, call it dumb if you want, but a man's truck is an extension of who he it." Matt explained, not quite understanding the sudden fire that sparked in her eyes. "My grand father and I spent almost a year customizing that truck. It meant a lot to me."

"What a shame." She sighed, once again forcing herself to get her emotions under control. Silently, she reminded herself of her mission.

"I know right." He smiled charmingly.

"Well at least no one was hurt." She said sarcastically, giving him the opportunity to confess to her and express his deep seated remorse over the death of her daughter.

"Dance with me." He demanded eager to change the subject, before his slightly drunken tongue began to spout off the whole truth. Quickly he rose and extended his hand to her.

"Really?" she questioned, staring blankly at his hand. Being that close to him so early in the evening wasn't a part of her plan. "I'm not much of a dancer." She lied, downing her second drink of the evening.

"Come on..." he pleaded. "It's a slow song." He negotiated as he caught her hand and gently pulled her to her feet. "There's nothing you have to do but hold on to me." He explained softly as he led her to the deserted dance floor.

"No one else is dancing." She said pointedly, looking around the vacant hard wood floor, as Matt coerced her arms around his shoulders. Gently, he laid his hands on her hips and drew her more firmly into his warm inviting embrace.

"Then maybe we'll start something." He smiled suggestively. "So what are you here to forget?" he asked softly against her ear.

"Nothing." She said honestly, knowing that there was no way she could ever forget. Tiredly, she laid her head on his shoulder, burying her face in the cradle of his neck. She didn't want him having the chance to study her face and see through her just yet.

"I don't believe you." He laughed, unable to resist the urge to slip his hand beneath the back of her blouse. Lightly, his fingertips started caressing her smooth delicate skin. "Let me guess... Some idiot broke your heart." He said gravely over the music.

"Smart man." She choked, using every ounce of will power she possessed, to force herself to allow his intimacy. Her body tensed and a wave of nausea washed over her as his lips began to brush a slow steady path from just below her ear lobe down her long slender neck.

"I want to take you home Darlin." He said honestly, not sure if it was the alcohol or the woman in his arms that was creating the warm rush of desire that was threatening to consume his body.

"I'll bet you do." She breathed against his neck.

"I can make you forget he ever existed." He offered confidently as he drew her tighter up against him.

"Some things... can't be forgotten." She bit through clenched teeth. "My food's ready." She pointed out, using the excuse to escape from his arms. Unsteadily, she made her way across the room and back to their table.

"I'm going to check on Brandon while you eat Darlin." Matt explained, pulling out the mahogany chair for her, just as his mother had taught him was proper. "I'll be right back." He said lightly, brushing his fingers through her long soft hair, before making his way through the crowd to his friend.

"Told ya Bran..." he sighed, once he was able to penetrate the wall of college women that surrounded his dealer friend. "That girl has pure ice in her veins."

"Here..." Brandon offered, digging into his jacket pocket. He looked around cautiously before dropping two white pills into Matt's upturned palm. "Put these in her drink. These are guaranteed to melt even the thickest icebergs." Brandon explained. "You might want to hurry up though. Looks like some one is trying to move in."

"Come dance with me pretty lady." Emily heard a slurred voice spouting.

"No Thank you." She refused coldly, not even bothering to look up from her half eaten plate. She couldn't help but notice as she stared down at the metal plate, that the meal was the most she'd eaten since the accident.

"Awe. Come on." The drunk demanded, grabbing her arm in a painful vice like grip. Callously he tugged her to her feet, despite her resistance.

"I said 'no thank you'. That means I don't want to dance." Emily bit, turning to face the intruder fully. "Now get your fucking hands off of me." She growled violently.

"Just one dance." The aging man negotiated. "I'll buy you a drink."

"I believe the lady asked you to get your hands off of her." Matt's smooth thick voice interjected, laying a firm hand threateningly on the man's shoulder. "She's here with me pal, so take a walk."

"I'm sorry." The man frowned, immediately releasing his hold on her arm, before walking away.

"You alright Darlin?" he asked softly as Emily began to rub her offended arm.

"I'm fine." She assured him. "Thank you for coming to my rescue." She sighed with a half hearted smile. "It's kind of funny. People like that is exactly the reason I don't come into bars." She laughed dryly.

"We are out of alcohol." He frowned, noticing that he table had been cleared of everything but her meal. "I'll go get us another round and take care of the tab." He offered, hinting that he was getting ready to leave.

"Are you sure it's safe to leave me alone?" she laughed, this time with genuine amusement.

"I don't know..." he shrugged with a flirty smile "You do seem to attract trouble." He smiled studying her face curiously. "Damn you look familiar girl." He remarked, noticing for the first time, that she strongly resembled some one he'd met, he just could place who.

"I have one of those faces." She said nervously. "Now go get our drinks." She demanded.

"Yes Ma'am." He laughed making his way to the bar. "Now..." he said as he returned to sit the spiked drink down in front of her. "Why do you look so familiar to me?" he questioned interestedly, watching as she chugged the apple martini down three big gulps.

"I don't know. Maybe we've passed on the street some where." She lied, welcoming the warm oblivion; it was the first time in almost a week that she felt calm and relaxed instead of cold brutal harsh hatred.

"Maybe..." he smiled, thoughtlessly reaching across the table to lightly caress her cheek. "But I know these eyes."

"Dance with me." She found herself saying. Despite herself she couldn't suppress the sudden craving for physical contact.

"Yes Ma'am." He nodded his agreement, all too eager to once again have her pressed tightly against him. "You haven't told me your name." he said pointedly once he had her on the dance floor.

"What's it matter?" she asked, for the first time taking notice of his scent. She deeply inhaled the thick combination of cigarette smoke, tequila, expensive cologne, and something else that she couldn't quite name at the moment. She couldn't deny that it was a potent and alluring blend. "You'll just forget it in five minutes." She breathed against his neck. "Besides, come morning, it won't even matter any way." She said nestling against him sweetly. Her body began instinctively clinging to his.

"I'm not that man Darlin." He assured her. His breath caught in his chest as he felt her fingertips lightly exploring the back of his neck, as they made their way up to play idly in the back of his short cropped black hair.

"Maybe I'm that woman." She said, laughing at the absurdity of her words.

"Look at me." He demanded, gently coaxing her face up so that her eyes would meet his. "Who are you?" he asked softly.

"Who am I?" she thought aloud. Curiously, her hands made their way down his broad shoulders to rest on the solid wall of his chest. "I am, who ever you want me to be tonight Chasen."

"Then you're mine." He said possessively. He was only a bit surprised by her turning away when he leaned down to kiss her.

"I need to use the ladies room." She explained, needing a moment to collect the sea of jumbled thoughts that were racing around in her fog filled mind.

"It's around the corner there." He said, pointing to the opposite side of the bar. "It's the last door on the right. I'm going to get another shot. Do you want anything?"

"A coke." She said softly, rather enjoying the cloud her body seemed to be floating on suddenly. "I think I have had more than enough alcohol for one night."

Matt had finished off the third of consecutive shots he's ordered before he grew concerned with the time that had lapsed between his blond rushing off to the ladies room and that moment. He didn't want to be concerned for her. None the less, his mind started reeling with every worst possible case scenario. Anxiously, he made his way to the restrooms.

"Matt..." Emily sighed, opening her eyes as she felt the brush of his fingertips against her forehead.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, having stepped into the ladies room, to find her leaned back against the cold concrete wall as if in a trance.

"I'm fine." She assured him, nestling her face into the warmth of his palm. "What are you doing in the ladies room?" she asked, hooking her fingers through the belt loops of his denim jeans.

"Looking for my lady." He explained, brushing the pad of his thumb over her heart shaped pouting lips.

"Well Matt Chasen... You've found me." She breathed heavily, using her hold on his belt loops to draw his body closer to her own. "Now what are you going to do with me?" she questioned.

"Goddamn. I want you Girl." He growled, pressing his lips to hers so hard that he heard and felt her head bang against the concrete wall. "I'm sorry." He whimpered against her lips, cupping the back of her head tenderly.

"Don't stop." She found herself pleading, as her hands mindlessly tugged at the hem of his t shirt. "I want to feel you." She panted, pressing her lips more softly to his.

"Mmm Darlin..." he groaned, feeling himself hard to the point of feeling like a 16 year old virgin again. "Let me take you home." He pleaded, feeling himself come undone as her innocent hands began to explore the hard ridges of his chest and abdomen.

"Okay." She nodded, grabbing his hands and leading them to her breasts, encouraging them to kneed the full round globes. "In a minute." She assured him, kissing a path over his neck and shoulder.

"If you don't stop..." he warned, entangling his fingers in her long blond hair, holding her mouth more firmly to his neck as her tongue and teeth grazed over his skin experimentally. "I'm going to take you right here on this bathroom floor." He said firmly.

"Okay." She consented, molding her body more firmly to his.

"Okay what?" he asked, holding her tight as his hands slid down her back to grasp her buttocks roughly.

"Okay, don't stop." She moaned against his ear, as the feel of his fingertips digging into her firm bottom, excited her to the point of irrationality.

"You don't want this." He argued, even as his hands instinctively reached for the button on her jeans. Part of him felt guilty, knowing that her desire was fueled by what ever Brandon had given him to slip into her drink. The biggest part of him simply wanted to be inside of her.

"Really?" she questioned, tensing confusedly as his hand slid curiously down her pants, beneath her black lace panties.

"I could be wrong." He smiled, as his fingers came in to contact with her freshly shaved mound. His breath caught in his throat as his fingers felt the moist slick proof of her desire.

"You are." She whimpered breathlessly, feeling as if tiny sparks of electricity were making their way over her body and meeting to concentrate in the very center of her womanhood.

"Get out of these pants." He demanded, pulling away from her only long enough to turn his attention to turning the dead bolt on the bathroom door to ensure their privacy.

As he turned back to face her, he felt a powerfully painful jolt of desire. Watching her kick off her boots and trying to shimmy drunkenly out of her pants, stirred an emotion inside him that he didn't care to analyze. "Here." He laughed, kneeling at her feet to pull the denim the rest of the way free of her shapely legs. "Last chance to tell me to stop." He warned as he rose, undoing his own jeans.