A Working Man Pt. 02

"Here, take this and stay the fuck out of my life. I never want to hear from you again."

He opened the bag and peeked inside, then closed it tightly and grinned lopsidedly. "Baby, you have nothing to worry about. I'm using this money to head to Mexico. Have a nice life!"

With that, he turned and walked away. I felt instant relief. He found me through raw luck. Now, I would be changing schools, and he'd have no way to find me again, in case he ever decided that twenty-thousand wasn't enough money.

I went home in a great mood. When Phillip got there, I greeted him at the door in a sexy, see-through robe, and a pair of come-fuck-me heels. "So, I wanted to make up to you for being such a bitch lately. Which would you rather do: eat dinner or eat me?" I asked him as I opened the robe and let it fall to the floor.

Phillip's response was direct and straightforward. He picked me up, placed me on my ass on the kitchen table, and sat down between my legs to eat me properly.

I transferred to SMU, and life got back to normal. Terri finished grad school with a Master's in Fine Art and self-published a children's book about being a lesbian. It received critical acclaim and landed her on TV with Oprah Winfrey. Pam was accepted at a prestigious medical school on the East Coast with all expenses paid. Joey graduated high school and was doing well at Annapolis.

The courses at SMU were much more challenging than anything I'd done to that point, but I loved it. I was being stimulated intellectually, which hadn't happened in a long time. Phillip was super supportive. If there was an award for it, I'm sure he would have won. I had to spend more time away from home, doing research in the SMU library, attending classes, doing labs, and other project work. He never complained. Sometimes, I could tell he wasn't thrilled, and the frequency of our lovemaking dropped significantly, but I tried to make it up to him.

In my Junior year, I was at the campus, working late on a project with two other students. We finished about nine, and Tracy, one of the girls I knew the best, suggested we head over to the Ginger Man for a beer to celebrate finishing the project. I called Phillip to let him know.

"Hey baby," I said as he answered. "We just finished the project, so Tracy suggested that Connie and I go have a celebratory beer. Do you mind?"

"It's already past nine," he said. I could tell he wasn't thrilled. "What time do you think you'll make it back?"

"I'll have one beer and head home," I stressed. "So, I should be back by ten-thirty or so. That work?"

"I don't have much choice, do I?" he said rather surly.

"How about I give you a blowjob when I get home?" I asked in my sexiest voice.

"Deal! But don't drive drunk. If you drink too much, call me, I'll come to get you."

"Ok," I said. "Love you."

I hung up, and the girls shook their heads. Tracy rolled her eyes. "Does he keep you on a short leash, or what?"

"It's not like that," I assured her. "We're married. As a wife, I have certain obligations to take care of. Phillip is a sweetheart and just wants me to be safe."

"Only one beer?" Connie asked. "Are you serious?"

"I love my husband and actually like to hang out with him," I explained. "Not that you girls aren't fun, but Phillip is my top priority. Plus, he has a big cock."

"Oh, now I want to meet him," offered Tracy.

"I want to shag him," replied our British friend Connie.

"No, no," I told them. "That's why I have to go home and give him a blowjob. It's to keep him happy and in my bed, instead of having him run off to fool around with hot little sluts like you two."

We went to the bar. I had one beer and got up to leave, dropping a twenty-dollar bill on the table to cover my part and then some. "Ok, girls, I'm out of here before my coach turns back into a pumpkin."

"You seriously meant you would leave after one pint." Connie declared. "You have more willpower than I do. I may close the place down."

"Well, good for you, but I love my husband, and when I tell him something, I stick to it."

"Have fun sucking his cock," Tracy said. "I'm jealous."

"I will," I said with a wink. I left the bar and walked back down the street to where I had parked my car. As I opened the door, he stepped out from behind an SUV.

"Hello, Maggie." It was Jesse. "Remember me?"

Chapter 16

"Jesse!" I cried out, shocked. "How did you find me?"

He laughed and walked around my car. "It wasn't that hard to do, once I put my mind to it. I've been following you for the past few days. You have a nice house. Highland Park suits you."

Fuck, he knew where I lived.

"What do you want? More money?" I asked. "How much is it this time?"

"Mmmm, money," he said. "Money is good for starters. But, you know, I've had a lot to think about the past couple of years while I was in Mexico. First, twenty grand was chump change. A man can't live very long on that much, even in Mexico."

A security car drove by. The guards were watching us closely. I could tell Jesse was nervous, as he kept his distance, hands in plain sight.

"How much?" I asked again.

"Then, surprise, surprise," he continued, "I come back to the States, and I see this girl on Good Morning America, promoting her newest children's book."

I swallowed hard. Jesse knew about my daughter.

"She looks so familiar, like you, when we were younger, but with piercing blue eyes."

I felt terror take hold of my heart. I began to tremble. I could see my life falling apart all around me.

"What do you want, Jesse?" I asked again.

"Then, I saw her name, Teresa Anderson. What a shock that was. I realized right away, of course, why you were so anxious to get rid of me that you would throw money at me. Sweet, loving, Phillip doesn't have a clue that Teresa is my daughter, not his. Does he?"

"She's his daughter!" I snapped. "In every way that matters!"

"Except biologically!" Jesse fired back. "She's my daughter, and you, her bitch of a mother, kept that from me for twenty-five years. Didn't you think I would want to know I had a daughter? Did you ever try to write to me and tell me? No, you fucking hid the truth from me, and you let your pathetic husband think she was his all this time."

"What do you want!?!" I screamed.

"Payback. Justice. I want the things you took from me. A family. My daughter. I want it all. I want to tell Phillip the truth. Teresa is my daughter, and you hid it from him. I want to meet Teresa and let her know that I am her real father."

"No! No! You can't have that! Not that, please! I beg you, Jesse, please don't do this. You'll destroy my marriage! You'll destroy my family! Please!"

"Don't you get it, you stupid cunt, I want to destroy your marriage!"

"Please! I'll do anything! I'll pay anything! Please don't do this."

Jesse stepped closer. "First, I want a quarter of a million dollars in cash."

"I can't get that much! That's too much!" I protested.

"Bullshit, I looked into Phillip's background. His net worth is over ten million bucks. You can afford it. A quarter of a million. I'll give you two weeks to come up with it. If you don't deliver, I'll go to him and tell him the truth."

"You said 'first'. What else?"

"Second, when you bring me the money, you're going to come to my hotel room. You're going to take off all your clothes. I am going to fuck the living hell out of you and send you back to your hubby full of my cum."

I staggered and nearly fell. Just then, the security vehicle stopped, and a guard got out. "Ma'am, are you alright?" he asked. "Is this man bothering you?"

"Not me, officer," Jesse said, hands raised. "We're old friends. But I was just leaving."

"Is that right, ma'am?" the officer asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Thank you."

"Remember, two weeks from tonight. And wear something sexy," Jesse said, then walked away. Immediately, I collapsed on the ground, crying hysterically.

Chapter 17

For the next two weeks, I was a basket case. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. I had no idea what I was going to do. At first, it seemed as if the time crawled by, that I was being tormented with anticipation. Then, as the deadline approached, time seemed to accelerate, as if I were flying rapidly to my doom.

Phillip knew something was wrong. I was short with him and irritable. I tried to avoid spending time with him or talking. He tried over and over to help fix whatever was broken. One night, he tried to touch me. I'm sure he was just being affectionate, but I took it as a sexual overture.

"Is that all men think about is sex?" I snapped at him. He seemed deeply hurt and pulled away. That night he slept in the guest bedroom. I cried all night, alone in my bed. I wanted to tell him what I was going through. But, there was no way I could tell him without him being crushed and betrayed.

Fortunately, school was on break, because there was no way I could go. Unfortunately, that meant I had nowhere to go to get away from Phillip. On the second Saturday before the coming Monday of my doom, he asked me, "Maggie, are you cheating on me?"

I became livid and ripped him a new asshole. I lashed out and said every hurtful thing I could think of. I questioned his manhood. I challenged his love for me and for our children. I don't know what all I said, but I know it was all untrue and all about as bad as I could possibly be to the man who loved me. That night, I slept in the guest bedroom. We didn't speak at all on Sunday.

Monday morning, right after Phillip left, I received a text from an unknown number. It said the name, address, and room number of a hotel, along with 4:00 PM and "Don't forget to dress in something sexy."

I ran to the bathroom and threw up.

Around lunchtime, I stepped into the headquarters for Comerica Bank. The manager was expecting me and offered me some coffee. I declined. "Let's just get it done," I said rather harshly. "Is it ready?"

"Yes, of course. It took some effort, but we were able to cash in the bonds you wanted. Along with an additional seventy-five thousand from your savings account, we were able to get you the money. I have to tell you, Mrs. Anderson, this is highly irregular. Are you being coerced to get this much money in cash?"

"Not at all, I just wanted to surprise Phillip with a new boat for his birthday, and the owner will only take cash."

"I see. Very well, then. I will have our guards escort you to your car. Shall we?" he asked, gesturing to the door to the vault.

"Yes, please," I said as I walked inside. The money was in a case, sitting on a table. I had to sign several papers, then he closed and handed the case to me. I'd never held that much money before. It was heavy.

The guards walked on both sides of me as I left the bank and trudged to my car. I put the case in the trunk, then got in and drove away. I drove home and left the car in the garage as I sat at the kitchen table, watching the clock and waiting. As I sat there, I tried desperately to think of a way out of my predicament. I even prayed.

Nothing helped. At half-past three, I left and drove across town to the hotel. I retrieved the silver case and carried it to room 402. I stood there, feeling nothing, and at precisely four o'clock, I knocked.

Jesse opened the door, smiling broadly and gestured for me to come in. I walked past him and into the room. There was only a king-sized bed, unmade, and a cooler of beer in sight.

"Want a beer?" Jesse asked.

"This is not a social call," I explained. "Let's just get this over with."

I handed him the case. He laid it on the bed and opened it, then whistled. "Damn, is it all here?"

"Don't you want to count it?" I asked.

"No, that's too much effort. I trust you know not to short change me. You wouldn't like the result."

I moved closer to the door. "There, you have the money. Now, promise me that you will never come back. I don't ever want to hear from you again."

"Of course," Jesse said, closing the case and moving it next to the bed. "You'll never hear from me again."

"Good," I said, then turned and walked to the door.

"But, you forgot the fun part," he said with a wicked laugh.

I looked back at him. "If you think I'm actually going to have sex with you, then you truly are brain-damaged. You have the money, that's all you're going to get from me."

"Sorry to hear that," he said as he raised his cell phone and pushed a button. I could hear another phone ringing. He must have had it on speakerphone. On the third ring, someone answered. I recognized her voice. It was Mary, Phillip's secretary. I gasped and walked back into the room, shaking my head.

"Hello, Anderson Hardware Corporate office, this is the office of the President, how can I help you?"

"What are you..." I started to ask, but Jesse raised his hand to silence me.

"Hi, yes. Is Phillip in?"

"He's on another line at the moment. May I take a message?"

"Actually, I'm an old friend of his from high school. I was hoping to talk to him."

"Hang on a second." She put Jesse on hold. Soft music began to play.

"You have until she gets back to get naked, or you can kiss your marriage goodbye."

"Jesse, please, don't do this," I pleaded.

"Better hurry."

The music kept playing. I felt the panic returning. I couldn't do it. I couldn't have sex with Jesse.

The music stopped.

"Hello, Sir?"

"Yes," he said, then shook his head and mouthed at me, "too late."

"Phillip is available now. Hang on while I transfer the call."

"Thank you," he said.

"You're welcome. Have a nice day."

I heard a click, then a brief pause, followed by my husband's voice.

"Hello, this is Phillip, how can I help you?"

Jesse looked at me. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I reached up to unbutton my blouse.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

I opened the blouse to reveal my lace bra underneath and let it fall to the floor. I reached for the zipper of my skirt and started pulling it down.

"Wrong number," Jesse said and disconnected the phone.

Chapter 18

I was numb when I arrived home. I was moving like an automaton, on autopilot. I walked through my home, up to my room, and stripped off my clothes as I turned on the shower. Instead of putting the clothes in the hamper, I put everything in the trash. I never wanted to see them again. When I was naked, I stared at myself in the mirror. I had bruises all over my breasts, ass, and thighs, as well as my vagina. At least he hadn't hit my face.

It would be several days before I could let Phillip see me naked. It would be much longer before I wanted him to. I climbed into the shower and collapsed into the bottom. Fortunately, we didn't run out of hot water this time. Phillip, being the hard worker he is, changed out our regular, old-fashioned water heater with a new, state of the art tankless system. At the time, I thought it was a waste of time and money. Just at this moment, I couldn't have been more appreciative of it.

I lay on the floor of the shower, letting the water wash over me. It didn't clean me. It couldn't purify me or take away the filthy things that Jesse had done to me. I wanted to cry, but I had no tears left. I had cried while he raped me this time. It didn't help. He violated me anally, something I'd never done before. He just laughed and said it was another first for him and not Phillip. It hurt terribly, but that pain was nothing compared to the pain in my heart and in my soul.

I saw my razor lying on the soap dish and picked it up. I thought about ending it all, but then I'd never see Phillip's face again. I couldn't bear to be without him. I dropped the razor and curled up in a ball.

Sometime later, I dragged myself out of the shower and dried off, then put on a pair of sweatpants and a baggy, hooded sweatshirt. I didn't want to see any part of my body showing. If I had owned a burka, I would have gladly worn it to cover my shame.

I went to our bar and grabbed a bottle of Scotch. I didn't use a glass. I just laid down on the couch and started drinking. I didn't stop until I passed out. I woke up the next morning in bed, barely in time to run to the bathroom and throw up. My head was splitting down the middle as Phillip came in. I quickly checked to make sure I was completely covered.

"You going to survive?" he asked.

"I don't know," I honestly told him.

"What brought this on?" he asked, staring at me from the doorway.

Thankfully, I couldn't talk and waved him away as I threw up again. A few minutes later, he reappeared with a glass of water and a cold, wet cloth. He washed my face and helped me get back in bed.

"So, why did you drink so much?" he asked.

I curled up under the blanket, trembling. "Spring Break," I replied.

"Well, I have never seen anybody go Girls Gone Wild all by themselves," he chuckled.

He left me alone, and I went back to sleep. When I woke again, it was dark. When I came to, Phillip was trying to undress me.

"No!" I shouted and lashed out with a fist, catching him in the nose.

"Ow! Fuck!" he yelled as he jumped back, clutching his proboscis.

"Sorry," I said, "I want to keep this on."

"You're sweating like a pig," he explained.

"I'm cold," I said. "I like this. Leave me alone."

"Honey, you need to change clothes," he said firmly.

"Leave me alone, goddammit!" I shrieked.

He raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the room. "Sure, no problem."

Things were awkward between Phillip and I for the next couple of weeks. I was moody and overly emotional. I had a short temper and would frequently blow up at him over trivial things. He kept trying to fix me, which only pissed me off more. Finally, I told him I was going through menopause and that as a man, he would never fucking understand.

After that, he gave me space. I had to drop all of my classes for the semester since I stopped attending them. Days went by, and Jesse was silent. He had promised me after he fucked me repeatedly, in every way possible, that he would never bother me again. I didn't believe anything he said, but as the days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, I began to believe it was possible.

Maybe he was gone forever.

I eventually went back to school and graduated. I applied for a job at the counseling center run by my old friend Elizabeth Perkins. She welcomed me with open arms. The work there helped me so much. I found that I wasn't just coaching and counseling abused girls, but I was counseling myself. I started to heal.

The darkness had faded a bit, and I could see the potential for a happy future with my husband. I was just so thankful that Phillip was still with me, after all, I had done and how badly I had treated him. I didn't deserve him.

On our thirtieth wedding anniversary, Phillip hired a limousine and took me to a beautiful dinner and the opera. Afterward, we wandered through the museum district and stopped at a coffee shop. He went inside to order, leaving me outside at a small cafe table. Someone sat down, and I turned, expecting to see Phillip. The smile on my lips died as I saw Jesse's face smiling back at me.

I just stared at him, unable to speak. He reached into his inside coat pocket and pulled out a photograph, then laid it on the table. As he stood up, he said, "We need to talk. I'll be in touch."

I looked down and saw the picture. It was from Jesse's hotel room and showed me on all fours, naked on the bad, with Jesse behind me, fucking me roughly. Both of our faces were plainly visible, and anybody who saw it would know it was me.

"I got us both a cappuccino, is that alright?" Phillip asked as he came back out, a cup in each hand. I swiped the photograph off the table and shoved it in my bra before he saw it.

"I don't feel good," I said curtly. "Can we go home?"

Monday morning, right after Phillip left, I received another call from an unknown number. It was Jesse. He told me to meet him again at the same hotel, room number 512, at eleven, and be prepared to stay until six.