Cheryl's Lament

Cheryl's Lament

The following is a spin-off from "Justice Ch. 03: Lawyers, Guns & Money," and is presented here after a number of readers said they would like to see it. To fully understand the context of this story, I suggest you first read "Justice Ch. 03" if you haven't already done so.

This is not my usual fare. As regular readers know, cheating spouses typically don't fare too well in my stories. This not what you would call a "BTB," nor is it a "RAAC" type of story.

Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...

Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (And yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...

I gathered the mail from the box by the road and noticed a fairly large envelope addressed to us from Lionel Hawkins, the California lawyer we rescued from his wife, Cheryl and her lover, Enrique Castillo, a wealthy Mexican businessman who fancied himself something of a modern-day "Napoleon."

After I got back in the house, I called my wife, Danni, and we read the 24-page manuscript, which had been neatly typed in Word. Lionel had included a short note with the manuscript.

"Dear Amos and Danni," it began. That's me, by the way -- Amos Jones. My great-great-great-great grandfather, Elijah, and I had faced off against Castillo's ragtag army in Chihuahua while Lionel was kept hidden in a place where no one on earth could get to him. Danni, of course, is my wife.

Before I go any further, please don't ask me to explain my Grandpa Elijah, since I still don't understand it all myself. All I can say is that Grandpa Elijah helped me deal with my first wife, Andrea, and we've helped him out a couple times since then. Lionel's letter continued.

"Thank you for your call, and yes, I am doing alright," he wrote. Danni and I had kept in touch with him to make sure he was alright after the incident with him and Cheryl.

"Here is the manuscript I promised earlier," he added. "As I indicated before, parts of this were pretty hard for me to read, and I've cleaned it up as best I could. This doesn't excuse any of her actions, but it does explain a lot and I do feel she really did have a change of heart toward the end. I had hoped to wait until she was stable, physically and emotionally, before making a final decision on divorce, but she beat me to the punch.

"I didn't have the heart to tell her parents about what she was doing with Castillo, but I think they know that things weren't good between us. No matter what Cheryl did, I like her parents and didn't want them to think badly of her," he said.

"Your grandfather told me she had made her peace with God," Lionel wrote. "She said the same as well in her suicide note, which I found on her computer after they took her away. I hope that's true. I haven't found it in my heart to forgive her yet. Maybe someday I will, I don't know yet. I'm seeing a counselor who's helping me work through all of this. She did try to kill me, after all. Anyway, here is her manuscript. Please stay in touch."

The letter ended, "All my best, Lionel Hawkins." We picked up the manuscript and began reading.

"My Lament, by Cheryl Hawkins," it read at the top. Danni and I found it interesting she kept her married name. The manuscript, as written by her, continued.

...

Lionel:

I've started this several times in the last few weeks, but until now, have not been able to finish. I guess the best way to deal with the truth is to just put it out there and let the chips fall where they may.

Let me begin by saying that despite what you may think of me, Lionel, I appreciate the kindness you have shown by letting me stay with you while I recover. I know that it would be far too much to expect that you would ever forgive me for all the hurt and pain I have caused you. I also know that you have already started the process to divorce me in absentia.

You told me that you would give me six months to get back on my feet before taking any additional action, and I appreciate the time you have given me. I promise that when the time comes, I won't fight it. I deserve nothing and I expect nothing.

I was shocked when you said I had been gone for 359 days, just a few days shy of a full year. It seemed a lot longer to me, but then again, I was the one chained naked to a rock the whole time.

I know it may be hard for you to believe, but I never cheated on you until I met Enrique. Sure, I was tempted, many times. While working for Dewey and Cheatham, I had many, many opportunities to do so, but I never did. Yes, I flirted with a lot of men, perhaps more than I should have. Yes, I teased them mercilessly and danced quite provocatively with them -- even let a few of them feel me up from time to time. I know it's not the kind of behavior that would pass the "husband test," but that was all that happened.

Perhaps that's part of the reason the senior partners trusted me enough to assign me to work with Enrique exclusively. That, along with my Latino heritage and the fact that I speak Spanish fluently.

I remember blowing off our anniversary a couple years in a row, and I promised to make it all up to you. I also know that never happened, yet you continued to stick with me. And before you ask, yes, I noticed you didn't do anything for our tenth anniversary. It hurt at first, but then I realized I probably had it coming. After all, I wasn't much of a wife to you in those last few years.

Then I was assigned to Castillo. It was my job to handle all of his US legal needs, which I did. But something happened that shouldn't have. I found myself getting attracted to him, sexually.

Put simply, Enrique was everything you weren't, Lionel. He was wealthy -- very wealthy. Much more than you can imagine. He was also ambitious, as I'm sure you know by now. Add to that his boyish charm and good looks, and I was basically swept off my feet.

It didn't take very long for him to work his way into my panties. I know this hurts, Lionel, but I need to tell you the whole truth. You should know that most of the time I was with Enrique, I slept with him. Yes, we had sex -- a lot of sex. And no, he never used any protection. Fortunately, I was on the pill so I never got pregnant.

He often laughed at the possibility that he might get me pregnant so you could raise his child. I'm now ashamed to say I laughed along with him. As you know, I would never have gotten an abortion. I'm now glad I never had to deal with that situation.

I hadn't been assigned to him very long before we started having sex. And yes, he was very good. I'm sorry to tell you all this and I know it hurts, Lionel, but you deserve the whole truth. You're probably wondering if he was bigger or better than you.

Well yes, he was bigger -- much bigger than you. And he was much more energetic in bed than you. He knew what he wanted and he took it. Where you were always gentle and loving, he was rough and demanding. And I grew to love it. At the same time, I lost respect for you. I felt that you were nowhere near the man he was. Now that I think about it, I realize that you were a much better man than he could ever hope to be.

We did it everywhere we could -- in bed, on the dance floor, in an elevator, everywhere we could get naked and fuck. And yes, that's what we did -- we fucked. There was very little lovemaking involved. It was just pure, animalistic sex. Sometimes, we even used drugs -- cocaine, marijuana, you name it.

And yes, he did things to me I never let you do. He fucked me in the ass many times, sometimes with a dildo stuck in my pussy. I know I denied you that pleasure, but there was no denying Enrique. I was his personal slut, his personal cum whore. And at the time, I loved it.

Once, while at a private party at a club in New York, he stripped me naked and had me lean against a railing while he fucked me from the rear. I remember looking down at the crowd below, my tits hanging over the railing as he fucked my pussy. I saw several men looking up at me as I moaned in ecstasy. At the time, I loved it. I felt so wicked, so wanton. And I loved the fact I was doing it behind your back.

Reading this now, I'm sure you hate my guts even more than ever before, but you need to know the whole truth. Yes, I was Enrique's to use as he saw fit.

Do you remember the last time we had sex, Lionel? It was after a trip I took with Enrique to South America. He fucked me as the chauffeur drove us to the house. Enrique came inside my pussy just as we got to the house, and he told me to make sure I made you clean his cum out of my pussy.

That day, I climbed on top of you and had you eat my pussy, remember? You commented on how wet I was and I told you that was because I was super horny for you. You went to town on me and actually brought me to orgasm, all the while not knowing that you were actually taking Enrique's cum in your mouth. You were so horny for me that you never even seemed to notice, but I loved it. I got off on humiliating you that way, all the while knowing that you were my cuckold.

I admit that at the time, I loved the power I had over you. And I loved that I could fool you so easily. Thinking back on it now, I realize just how wrong I was and I beg your forgiveness.

It didn't end there, however. Do you remember when I started pestering you about that paperwork for Enrique? You kept asking me why I couldn't have my firm do what I was asking you to do. Instead of giving you the truth, I berated you as an incompetent boob. Well, here's the truth.

Enrique had started telling me about his desire to unite all of Latin America under a benevolent dictatorship. It was his dream to enrich Latin America using his prowess as a businessman. I believed he could do it.

Remember, my mother originally came from Costa Rica. As a child, she would tell me stories of how she and her parents lived and about some of the hardships they endured over the years. When my father met her and fell in love with her, he promised her parents -- my grandparents -- that she would never want for anything as long as she lived. He lived up to that promise, and even though he was never wealthy by New York standards, he made sure she had a good life.

Enrique promised the same thing for all of Latin America, and I truly thought that if anyone was up to the task, he was. And, I was to be his queen. Sure, he was ruthless when he had to be, and he could be something of a braggart, but he was very adept at business. Remember, he was a self-made man who worked hard to earn his wealth, even though a lot of his money came from less than reputable sources.

By this time, Dewey and Cheatham had received reports about my relationship with Enrique and they were concerned my activity could reflect poorly on them. They warned me several times, but I simply ignored the warnings. I was, after all, racking up tons of billable hours, which Enrique gladly paid.

But as luck would have it, an attorney with one of our competitors saw Enrique and I and took pictures and video of our "public indiscretions." In short, they caught me red-handed with Enrique's cock buried in my pussy at a nightclub in Brazil. The photos made their way back to the firm and the board wasted no time in firing me. That happened about six months before we dropped you off in the desert.

Enrique was livid and threatened to sue the firm, but Dewey and Cheatham countered by threatening to inform certain federal agencies of his less-than-reputable activities. They also threatened to inform the federales south of the border.

Enrique wasn't concerned too much with the federales, especially since many of them were on his unofficial payroll, if you know what I mean. That is, except for one Mexican Army colonel who had dogged him for years.

He was more concerned about certain alphabet agencies in the federal government and the force they could bring to bear, since a lot of his overseas contacts had close dealings with groups our soldiers were fighting overseas. The last thing he wanted was a SEAL team landing in his compound late at night.

So Enrique put me on staff and paid me himself, which he decided was a good deal, since it saved him a lot of money. On top of that, I was his personal live-in consort.

He came up with an idea and wanted you to pre-notarize manifest statements of use and other forms for shipments of certain materiel. On the surface, they would appear to be things like produce or medical supplies. In reality, they were shipments of arms for the army he was building in Chihuahua.

But you, being the ethical person you are, refused to have anything to do with it, not knowing the true nature of the shipments. Enrique eventually tired of your intransigence and that's when we cooked up the idea of dropping you off in the desert.

Believe it or not, I never wanted any harm to come to you. That's why we implanted that tracker in your back after we drugged you. The plan was to watch your movements for a couple days or so, then give you one last chance. We thought you would be so thirsty and hungry you would do anything for a sip of water.

But that didn't work out. Enrique got word that your tracking device suddenly went off-line and couldn't be found. Then it suddenly appeared in Texas. He had some men close by and dispatched them to get you and bring you to the camp we had in Chihuahua. They went to the tracker's last known location, but you weren't there. Instead, they found some woman and her child, so they took them as ransom.

Imagine my surprise when those two cowboys suddenly showed up on horseback. I'll never forget that day. Enrique got word that two men had just rode up to the camp and was demanding to see him. He went to speak to them as I got dressed. When I joined him, I was stunned at what I saw.

In addition to the two cowboys on horseback, there looked to be an entire army of hellish apparitions on horseback behind them. They looked like something out of an old movie. I couldn't make out any faces, but their eyes seemed to glow like fire and when the horses breathed, I saw fire coming out of their nostrils. Many of the men had drawn swords and looked like they were ready to charge us.

I heard one cowboy -- the older of the two -- introduce them to Enrique as some kind of cavalry regiment. I could tell Enrique was scared. It was the first time I had ever seen that. He was trembling slightly and I could hear him praying under his breath.

I demanded to know where you were, and the older cowboy said you were someplace safe where I couldn't get to you. Then he demanded we produce the woman and child we nabbed in Texas. I couldn't believe the nerve of this man. Did he not know who he was speaking to? I was even more stunned when Enrique told me to produce them. This wasn't the man I pledged my life to.

I did as Enrique said and saw the interaction between the woman and the younger cowboy. It was then I realized they were husband and wife and the young boy was their child. Suddenly, the older cowboy threw a rope over them and they disappeared. What kind of trickery was this, I asked myself.

I didn't have much time to think about it because the next thing I knew, that cowboy tossed his rope over Enrique and I. Suddenly, we were sitting in an old jail, like the ones you'd see in those old western movies. We were both stunned. How did this happen?

Then you showed up with that woman and those two cowboys. The sheriff opened the cell door and left. Then the younger cowboy rammed the butt of his rifle into Enrique's crotch, saying that was for kidnapping his wife. He followed that up by hitting Enrique in the head, telling him that was for taking his son.

I had never seen anyone stand up to Enrique like that before. What's worse, Enrique didn't fight back. I went to his side, but the woman punched me in the face. I was about to go after her, but the younger cowboy put his gun in my face and the older guy said something about getting between a mother and her child.

Then he told Enrique that his little war had been stopped before it could start. I knew we were doomed, and I started thinking about what I might say to throw you off balance. Then you shocked me when you asked why you shouldn't kill me right there on the spot.

I never knew you to be like that, and it threw me off balance for a moment. I had to say something to keep you from killing me, so I told you that I loved you. Then you laughed in my face. I couldn't believe it. You had never reacted to me like that before. I was even more shocked when you actually shot Enrique in the head when he was going to attack me.

At the time I thought I could talk you out of doing harm to me, then disappear after we got back home. I didn't know that my nightmare was just starting. You had changed and I was truly frightened that you were going to kill me in cold blood the way you did Enrique.

Then I heard you talking to that cowboy about the story of Prometheus. Yes, I remembered my Greek mythology and I knew what you were thinking. I couldn't believe you would actually do something like that to me.

I remember begging you to please not desert me the way I had you. I remember the shock I felt when you said you would wait however long it took for me to be declared dead. My God, I thought at the time. What have I done to you? I dealt with it the way I dealt with any other threat and went after you, thinking that you would knuckle under if I got angry enough.

I remember telling you that I would find a way to escape and would make you pay, but the old cowboy simply said that no, I wouldn't escape. The next thing I knew, I was chained to a rock in the middle of nowhere, completely naked.

I remember that cowboy telling me I would be alone, but somehow kept alive. I got scared when he told me I would encounter beasts and wondered what he meant. I begged you to give me one more chance, but you threw my own words right back in my face.

Then you pissed on me. Just the way I did to you when I dropped you off in the desert. I couldn't believe you hated me that much. How could you do something so horrible to me? Then it hit me -- How could I have done something so horrible to you? I cried harder than I had ever cried in my life. And suddenly, you were gone. And I was alone. More alone than I had ever been in my life.

I cried. I screamed. I begged for mercy, but none came. I tried to move, to break free of the chains, but I couldn't. I cried some more and screamed until my throat was hoarse. But I was alone and no one heard my cries. I began to wonder -- is this what you felt when I left you in the desert that day?

I sobbed until the sun went down and I finally fell asleep. The next day, a little white bird landed on my head. It had something in its beak and put it in my mouth before it flew away. It was kinda like a sponge and I found that I could actually chew it. As I chewed, I could feel liquid in my mouth and I swallowed. The substance, whatever it was, had no flavor, but I was able to keep it down. What was it, I asked myself.

A while later, another bird landed next to me. This one was much larger and looked mean. It squawked in my face and began pecking at my abdomen. I screamed and twisted my body, hoping to scare it away, but it stayed put, and kept pecking at my abdomen. I could see blood pouring out of my abdomen and whatever the bird was doing hurt like hell.