Rescued

"What's this?" She asked.

"Having the locks changed."

She nodded, "oh, good idea. When did you call him?"

I smiled again, "I didn't."

She didn't get a chance to ask me anything else because he stood, indicating he was done. He'd replaced my deadbolt and added a new monstrosity above it that I felt confident would keep most people out. Of course, the problem was I'd opened the door for Wilma, she hadn't broken into my place...but then it dawned on me that I'd also given her a key so she could come and go as she pleased. No wonder Frankie had been worried about me replacing the looks. I really was slow sometimes.

I hurried to find my purse, but he waved me off.

"She paid in advance. If there's any problem," he said, handing me two sets of keys, "just call, okay?"

I nodded, but didn't close the door after he left. I turned to Justine.

"I need to go back to sleep."

She opened her eyes wide, "you're kicking me out? I thought you weren't mad at me?"

"I'm not, I just have a horrible fucking headache and I want to lie back down."

She nodded, grabbing the small purse she'd tossed on the sofa earlier.

"Okay, okay. I'll call you later, okay? Get some sleep."

I closed and locked the door behind her. I found the ibuprofen, shaking four out into my hand and washing them down with the last of the wine. Then I crawled back into bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

*

This pounding in my head didn't cause as much pain. I assumed it was because of the ibuprofen. Still, why were my eyes opening to the sound of pounding again? Usually my cure-all hangover remedy worked, but I had to sleep long enough for it to take effect. I opened one eye, wondering if the pounding was the front door again. Sure enough, it was. I sighed. If it was Justine, I was going to kick her in her lovely shins.

It wasn't Justine. She was leaning against my doorjamb, much as she'd done the first time she'd surprised me. Tall, bald, dark velvety chocolate skin with those oh so perfect features...stunning. Without thinking, I moved into her, hugging her, pressing myself close to her much larger form.

"Thank you," I whispered, reaching up to kiss her check softly.

She smiled, winking down at me.

She was about to say something, but I interrupted her...pressing my lips to hers awkwardly...firmly... She didn't react immediately, but a moment later I felt her hands at my waist as she pulled me closer. I sighed inwardly as I felt her lips responding, sliding against mine, smooth...silky...delicious. I moaned softly, following her lead as she walked me backwards, kicking my apartment door closed.

She gathered me even closer, her hands slowly making their way down my curves, lifting me off my feet until I felt the pressure of her pelvis against mine. The remnants of my headache suddenly gone, I felt electricity coursing through me at her touch...my heart racing...my fingers and toes tingling. She deepened the kiss, her tongue sweetly grazing my lips before entering the heat of my mouth... exploring lazily.

I could feel the heat between us...her hands, casually stroking me, tantalizing every inch of my body...caressingly tender...raising the tee shirt I wore,hertee shirt, her mark on me...cupping my breasts, massaging them. I felt dizzier than I had when I was hung over, my breathing rushed, harsh, my hands clinging to her desperately as she deftly removed the shirt, her teeth nipping at my bottom lip roughly as she gently pinched a hardened nipple. The combination of pain and pleasure felt wonderful and I moaned, hungry for more.

She lifted me, moving backwards again until I felt the coolness of a wall against my heated flesh. Her thigh lodged between mine, her leg raised, pressing agonizingly against my center, my thin cotton shorts doing nothing to dull the effect. She began moving that thigh, forcing me to ride her...intensely...thoroughly...as she continued to work over my nipples, her lips completely dominating mine. I was hard...wet...my head was ringing most delightfully. Her lips finally left mine and I tilted my head back, feeling the pressure build, crying out softly as she sank her teeth into a sensitive spot on my neck. That thigh...rubbing the thin cotton fabric...wedging it in so snuggly...controlling how it dragged against me...forcing me to...those fingers ...magical ...pulling ...massaging ...pinching my hardened flesh just hard enough to... my breath caught...I was going to come...my body wanted it...needed it...the feel of her against me...holding me...manipulating me...just like this...just like this...I opened my eyes and stared into a pair of golden spheres, darkened with desire...dragging me further in...deeper...and then it hit...hard...my body fixed in an intense spasm even as she continued to move...I cried out as the waves washed over me...stillness dissolving into violent trembles. She watched, her eyes boring into mine as the breath left me, her body pressing mine against that cool wall as I lost control, as I moaned loudly with absolute pleasure...as I eventually began to whimper, my mind and body overloaded.

I wasn't sure when she let me down and made her way to my bedroom. I could only feel the softness of the mattress beneath me, my ears tuned into the rustle of clothing when we separated. Then she was beside me again, the heat of her bare flesh almost burning mine as I tried to gain some control...her lips were on me again, nibbling, tasting, her mouth on my flesh as she captured a hardened nipple again...my hips pressed down into the bed, my chest rising to meet the feel of her lips on me, my fingers digging into her broad shoulders, holding on. I felt her hands on me, quickly removing my bottoms...touching me...teasing me...parting my thighs...she stroked my outer lips, sending ripples of pleasure through me...I was slick...wet...anxious...parting my thighs lewdly...the feel of one finger...gently...gingerly...parting my folds...seeking out the throbbing source of my pleasure...my hips rose off the bed to meet her...begging for more...two fingers slid in...stroking...toying with me...covered in my slick arousal...burying into the depths of me...fucking me deeply. Her teeth sank into a nipple as her thumb tapped an erratic pattern against my clit...and another orgasm roared through me, shocking me...excruciating in its intensity...

I lay flat on my back...almost numb...unable to open my eyes...unable to stop the sensations coursing through me... I could feel she was close, but she wasn't touching me...then her hands were on my thighs, parting them...her mouth, searing me as it covered my wetness...my breath hitched...her tongue seeking out that depraved, tiny bundle of nerves, lashing at it...her hands pinning me down as my body attempted to buck, trying to dislodge her...too sensitive...too much...but soon my hands found her smooth, silky scalp, bringing her closer, my body insatiable, my thighs parting further to invite her in...she was cruel in her administrations, delightfully so, forcing me higher and higher, commanding my body to surrender until I was drowning in yet another sea of sinful ecstasy...

*

I slept afterwards, my body giving into the overload of sensations and exhaustion. I dreamt I was floating, my body entirely immersed in a soft, protective cloud. There was warmth, and wonderful colors...oranges...yellows...soft pinks...I felt comforted ...rested ...safe. And those feelings did not leave as I felt myself awaken hours later. My body was still tingling and I was pressed against her, her body warm and protective. I smiled, moving closer. She turned toward me, her arm curving around me more securely.

I watched her sleep, still amazed how beautiful she was. Her face was completely relaxed and it only enhanced how attractive her features were. An artist's masterpiece, perfectly sculpted. I raised a hand to carefully trace her high cheekbones, the slightly upturned nose, and those full lips that formed a perfect heart. Her skin, so dark and smooth, was soft...flawless. She was a miracle. The thought occurred to me just as those long lashes opened, the gold beneath them piercing into me.

She smiled slightly, taking hold of the hand that had been tracing her beautiful features and bringing it to her lips.

"So much for taking things slowly," she said, a hint of laughter in her deep, throaty voice.

I smiled also, "fuck slowly," I responded softly, mesmerized by her.

She raised a brow, "I thought I just had."

I laughed, delighted...and then I buried my face into her bare shoulder. I didn't know what I wanted to say, orhowto say it, but I was suffocating in an overwhelming abundance of emotions. Emotions attached to her, produced by her, defined by her. I knew it was too fast, too much, too soon and I didn't want to scare her off. But the emotions were there. I fought not to give them voice, not sure how she would respond. Instead, I just moved closer to her, hiding what I knew would be clearly displayed on my face.

She let me stay like that for a few minutes, but then reached down to lift my chin up with a gentle finger.

"You okay?" She asked, her voice a little worried, but filled with warmth and...something else I didn't want to try and classify.

I nodded, "just hungry."

She nodded, smiling "me too."

I smiled too, "you Philadelphians don't know anything about good Chinese food. There's a great place not too far from here. Wanna try it?"

"Says the New Yorker still holding my Eagles' shirt captive," she teased.

"Huh? What shirt?" I said with mock confusion, standing from the bed and heading out into the living room. I returned moments later, searching for jeans to go with the green Eagles' tee shirt I now wore. She chuckled, standing and quickly dressing much too quickly as I took in her delicious body. Minutes later we were on our way out the door, me taking the time to lock the new locks as she watched.

***

She spent the rest of Saturday and most of Sunday at my place, talking with me, cooking for me and, after informing me that her test results were negative, fucking me over and over and over again. But she had to leave on Sunday to head back to Philadelphia. I hated to see her go, knowing I had to deal with my everyday realities, including work and Wilma, after she left. I spent some of my time that Sunday on the phone with Justine, assuring her that I was okay, before preparing for class on Monday. When Frankie called to let me know she was home, I forced myself to sound normal, even cheerful, even though I already missed her. She was due at work for the late night shift and couldn't talk long. For that I was grateful, because a part of me wanted nothing more than to tell her I was going to quit my job and move to Philadelphia.

And so my life went back to normal. My first graders were as rambunctious as ever, I forced myself to see my friends for lunch and dinner...and I tried to put Wilma out of my mind, replacing the laptop and some of the other items she'd stolen. Unfortunately, Frankie's life also went back to normal. She had not found replacements for most of the people fired weeks ago and so she was still doing double shifts, helping to fill the gap. I spoke to her in between her chaotic schedule, usually for short periods of time, before one of us had to get some sleep or go back to work. She was working both days the next weekend, so visiting was out of the question. By the end of the second week without her, I felt like I was going through some type of withdrawal. I really missed her.

I don't know if it was a curse or a gift when I received a call about a situation in Colorado. A horrible mudslide that had pretty much annihilated a small town. They needed rescue workers immediately. I called my principal at home and he assured me he would find a substitute. When I took the job years ago, I told him about my rescue missions. At the time, albeit reluctantly, he said he would try to accommodate me. The longer I worked there, and the more skilled I seemed to be with the first graders (and their parents), the more invested he was in making sure I remained part of his faculty. I appreciated his efforts.

I booked my flight and then left a message for Frankie. I was on my way to the airport in less than two hours.

*

Devastating as it was, the damage was mostly to people's property...thank God. There were some people who had been trapped in their cars for almost 24 hours, and many trapped in their homes, but the fatalities were few and far between. My crew worked to rescue the living, making sure they were relocated to safe facilities and provided food, clothing, toiletries, and other basic necessities. I think Mike, who had been one of the supervisors in Louisiana, was careful to place me with that crew. He'd seen how devastated I was last time and, I was sure, didn't want to lose me.

I actually bumped into Toni during one of the shift changes. She seemed to panic when she saw me, but I smiled at her genuinely and waved. She waved back tentatively, hurrying on her way. I was no longer angry with her. Had she not played that joke on me, I would not have met Frankie. In fact, in some weird way, I probably owed her a hug. I shook my head, smiling. No reason to go overboard.

They only needed me for three days, so I was working diligently at the Center on my last day, handing out food, blankets, toiletries, books, and thinking about how nice it would be to make it back to New York and get back to work before the students got too restless. If I stayed away for a week or more, it was always challenging when I first returned. But this time, considering I hadn't been gone too long, when I walked in on Friday and gave them a pop quiz, they would be totally annoyed. And when they grumbled and suggested the sub had not given them the work I'd left, I would assure them that I'd spoken with her extensively and she assured me she had. I wouldn't have spoken with her, but she'd substituted for me before and I knew she'd do her best to keep them on track. Nonetheless, I would holdthemresponsible for the work I'd left behind, as I'd done before, so they knew that excuse would not fly with me.

These were my thoughts when I heard fragments of the news on one of the large televisions hanging on the Center's wall...

"Explosion...North Philadelphia...main gas leak...Metropolitan Hospital..."

And my heart stopped. My heart, for a moment, actually stopped. Frankie worked at Metropolitan. Frankie practicallylivedat Metropolitan. I closed my eyes for a moment and did something I hadn't done in a long time...prayed. Please...please let her have been at home, sleeping. Please...God please...please let her be all right.

The prayer was the fuel providing my exhausted body with the energy to find Tom, this Center's Coordinator. I was looking around desperately, already forgetting the requests of the many people who'd lost so much and who were currently housed there. I was still searching for Tom, changing my flight to the first possible one I could catch that was not stand-by...and then I bumped into Toni. She'd just heard. She must have family and close friends in North Philly. She looked to be in shock.

"Toni, have you heard the count? How bad?"

"Ten dead so far."

Ten dead. Ten dead...so far. Oh God...please.

"Where's Tom? Are you leaving? I have a rental car, you need a lift?"

But she wasn't responding. So I grabbed her sleeve and took her with me as I continued to search for Tom.

"Which airline Toni? Which airline did you fly?"

Again, nothing. So I called my airline and booked her a seat. I was just finishing the call when I found Tom. He'd heard and simply yelled over everyone's voices for us to leave. I headed to the temporary lockers they'd brought in for us, grabbed my stuff, and headed to my rental, still dragging Toni with me.

A part of my brain was working overtime, compelling me to compartmentalize and keep moving. I arrived at my hotel and was packed in 15 minutes. I knew Toni was staying in the same hotel, so I shook her hard enough to get an answer and dragged her to her room as well. I had no idea if she'd left things in a locker at the site, but I didn't have time to force that information from her. Her room was a mess, but I sat her down, found her bags, and shoved everything in none to gently. I checked us both out and was dragging her to my rental car again in no time.

It had dawned on me that I could just call Frankie, but I think I was afraid. A part of me hoped she would answer and that I was panicking for no reason. A part of me was terrified she wouldn't answer...that it would go to voicemail and provide the illusion that she was just busy and couldn't get to the phone. I didn't have her sister's phone number. I had no way of contacting anyone else that might be able to tell me if she was okay.

But I dialed the number anyway. Swallowing as I did so, praying she would answer...it went to voicemail of course. But she could be busy, especially today, so I tried again...and again...and again...and again.

Instead of going into panic mode, like my very useless companion, I started calling every person on my contact list that I'd ever worked with at a rescue site. Someone was bound to be in Philly, or at least know who was coordinating the rescue workers there. It was early and the rescue workers might not even be on site yet. Not until there was an all clear from the fire fighters and police. But there would already be a Coordinator in place. I'd made six calls and three went to voicemail, three answered, explaining they were not on site in Philly and didn't know who was in charge. So I kept making calls as I continued to make my way toward the airport.

We were waiting to board when I reached someone who was on her way to the site and knew who was coordinating. I got the necessary information, but couldn't make the call considering we were boarding. The flight was late, so they asked us to turn off all electronic devices so we could leave immediately. I bit my lip, wondering if I should risk making a quick call, knowing it would take more than a few minutes to explain who I was and ask for "the list." The count. The names of the people listed as dead or missing. So instead, I sat on my hands, said a few more prayers, and ordered a vodka, neat, when the very nice flight attendant in first class asked if I wanted something to drink. I had to get through two lengthy layovers and a total of 14 hours before we touched down in Philadelphia.

*

I wasn't able to find out anything during the painfully long trip to Philadelphia. I'd tried to contact the Coordinator, but couldn't reach her. When I spoke to Jess, the person I had contacted earlier, she explained that they weren't on site yet and Carol, the Coordinator, her had hands full trying to round up enough people. I told Jess to add my name to list and then asked if she'd heard the latest count. Twenty-five dead so far. No other numbers yet. I closed my eyes and prayed again.

*

Chaos was the best way to describe the scene when Toni and I finally arrived. I'm not sure I'd ever arrived at a scene so early in the game. Most of the area was cordoned off to prevent the public, and the press, from entering. Toni had finally snapped out of it and had been making calls, but she hadn't found out much, other than the latest count was 32. No details and no other numbers. I could feel myself wanting to panic, but I knew I didn't have time to. So instead, papers in hand, I began the process of trying to get access to the site.

Police officers stopped us half a dozen times before I finally saw some familiar faces. They were still waiting for the official "all clear" before they began the search. The number was up to 37 and there were no specific details. I didn't know if Frankie was part of that list, listed as missing, or part of those accounted for. My heart was still racing, I hadn't slept or eaten in hours and I could feel my entire body trembling. Somehow I convinced Carol, the Coordinator, that I was fit for duty even though she knew I was fresh from Colorado. A moment after she was done interrogating me, someone shoved a bagel and orange juice into my hands. I barely registered the food, desperate to get more information about who was on the damn lists.