Fool's Reward Ch. 02

I put this story in LW because the lead character is the wife from the prequel story. You will need to read chapter one before starting this. I wrote this is for all the readers who asked for an ending to Terry's story from Fool's Envy. Thanks for reading.

"Help me," she sobbed, her knees buckling.

Michael jumped to his feet. "What's wrong?" he repeated, running forward; catching her before she tumbled forward.

His arms closed around her and they both sunk to the floor. Tears filled her eyes and began streaming down her cheeks. She pulled herself against him for comfort and began to cry in a way that she hadn't since her husband had left her. The images assaulted her again, but instead of recoiling, she forced herself to face them, using Michael's presence as a source of strength. Turning, she forced herself to look him in the eyes.

"I did something stupid," she whispered through the tears.

He looked at her perplexed for a moment, then slowly a thought crept into his head. Releasing her, Michael turned and hurried toward the bathroom. He looked inside to see the empty bottle of sleeping pills in the sink. His heart leapt into his throat.

I've got to call 911! he thought in a panic.

His eyes scanned the room one last time as his mind raced. Then he noticed something floating in the toilet. He stepped forward and breathed a sigh of relief that brought tears to his eyes.

Slowly he walked back into the living room and saw that she had moved to the couch, where she sat, curled into a ball like a child. Her sobbing had subsided, although her hands still shook uncontrollably as she unconsciously fidgeted with her hair.

"You didn't swallow them?" he said hopefully, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"I did, but I threw them up," she sobbed. "About two seconds after I swallowed I thought about all the people I would hurt, of how selfish I was being and I panicked." She looked at him with real terror in her eyes. "I didn't even know that really worked. It was the most frightened I've ever been in my life."

He sat down next to Terry and took her hand. "Just the people you'd hurt? You never thought about what you'd be throwing away?"

She looked at him, exasperated. "Yeah, my life is so wonderful that it'd be terrible not to get to experience more of it. Monday at work will be a memory I'll treasure forever. How many people do you think they'll tell before then? How do you think people will look at me, wondering what it must have looked like; hoping I'd do it again so they could be there too? It's not like you didn't already hear the rumors. Isn't that why you asked me out?"

He sighed, suddenly comprehending how difficult his task with her really was. "I asked you out because I thought you were one of the most beautiful women I'd ever seen. You were also kind, friendly, well-liked and intelligent. "Plus..." he trailed off, not sure if it was wise to broach the subject.

"Plus what," she asked, curiously.

He thought carefully about how to phrase his answer. "I saw something in you, Terry. It was something I didn't even understand until last night, but it was something that touched me."

"Last night?" she repeated, guardedly.

"I saw that inside, you were hurting. I mean really hurting. It was in your eyes the whole time. You were so sad it was palpable, but you kept trying to pretend you were ok for everyone else. It made me want to be closer to you.

She frowned. "You mean you felt sorry for me?"

"No, that's not it at all," he said quickly. "I realized how much more there was to you beneath the surface. It's easy to be attracted to how you look, but there was a person there full of sadness and fear and joy. She was fascinating and everything I wanted to have in my life one day."

"Oh," she said with a surprised look on her face

He smiled bashfully. "I just mean you were the type of person I wanted to get to know in case that could turn into something someday."

She brightened slightly at his words. "That's...I don't know what to say. I'm sorry if I misjudged you. I was so horrified that you saw what happened last night. Even as drunk as I was, it's the one thing I remember clearly. It was the worst thing I could imagine."

"Terry, there is a lot we should talk about, but I promise you don't have to worry about my opinion of you. I haven't seen anything that made me feel that I didn't want to be around you. I just want to know why."

"Why," she repeated, obviously overwhelmed at the prospect of an explanation. "Where could I possibly start?"

"Why not start at the beginning? We have as much time as you need. I'm not going anywhere," he said reassuringly. "Let me get you something warm first. It'll give you a minute to clear your head. Tea or coffee?"

"I've had enough stimulation for the day. Tea would be fine."

Michael went into the kitchen and made them a pot of tea, trying to give her enough time to collect herself. He knew she was fragile and he didn't want to push, but there was no way he would let her go home after what she had tried.

Several minutes later he walked back into the living room with a tray. He sat and poured her a cup as she studied him, wondering if he really did care that much, or if he was going to eventually walk away from her too. Terry shuddered at the thought of what she almost did, and decided she had to take a chance. Things had finally gone too far, and she knew she needed help. Trusting him went against everything she had come to believe, but there was something so sincere about him that it made her want to take a chance. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

"I was married for several years," she said, startled by how thin her voice sounded. We were very happy. Unfortunately I had a friend who convinced me that I was missing out on something. She really opened my eyes to how powerful sex could be, and she talked me into spying on her and her husband. That led to her giving me ideas of things Steve and I could try in the bedroom to spice up our lives. Then she made the suggestion that I should talk him into..." she trailed off, unsure if she could actually say the words out loud.

"She wanted you to swap with her and her husband?" Michael said, surprising her.

"How did you know? Oh yeah, the rumors," she sighed.

"No, it just seemed logical," he corrected her. "I never asked anyone about the stories concerning you, and had no interest in what other people had to say. I wanted to find out for myself."

"Well you sure found out, didn't you," she said bitterly. Noticing his disapproving stare, she picked up her story.

"Yes, she and her husband were swingers. They wanted us involved in their lifestyle. I didn't know about all of it, but the things she discussed with me I wanted to try. The problem was I knew my husband would be difficult to convince. After a few weeks I let the anticipation build to the point where I wanted it so much that I was willing to trick him into it to get my way. I really believed it would be so exciting that it would make our marriage more fulfilling. Unfortunately it went badly, and it made him despise me. He left, and found someone else to pick up his life with in just a few months. Our marriage was over just like that, and he replaced me with someone better." She raised the cup to her lips, her hands still trembling, and took a sip from her drink to steady her nerves.

"After that I just couldn't move on. I was so ashamed of myself. I had sabotaged a wonderful marriage with the man I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. As much as he loved me, I chased him away because I was..." she stopped, seeing Michael's frown, "Because I couldn't control myself."

"Everything fell apart after that. There was a rift between me and my family. I lost my job. I even lost most of my friends who knew us as a couple." Her expression because decidedly uncomfortable, but she continued. "I couldn't make myself trust men again."

Michael shook his head. "I don't understand. It was difficult for you, but why let it interfere with so much of your life? Your family? What did that have to do with it?"

Her temper flared. "You think it was easy for me to tell my father that my marriage was over because I was such a whore I needed to fuck the guy next door? I didn't even sneak around to do it. I tried to arrange it so my husband could watch us together, then I could watch him screw the guy's wife. Do you have any idea how he and my mom looked at me? The horror at what their little girl had become?"

He touched her hand with a contrite expression. "Terry, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No, I'm sorry," she answered. She put her hands to her face, wishing she could block out the memories. "It was a never-ending stream of horrible humiliations. I couldn't face people, so I tried running away from them and starting over. But I couldn't date anymore. I'd just come home every night, sitting in this house alone with all the memories. That's when I started drinking."

"I'd go out and get drunk, then usually do something stupid that would just make things worse. I would feel so guilty that I would refuse to do anything but stay at home by myself for weeks, but I'd feel so miserable that I'd eventually give in and do it again. I couldn't stand myself, but I kept making the same mistakes. I just couldn't stop what I was doing."

Michael softly touched her face, forcing her to turn and look at him. "So why not let someone in?"

"Who would want me?" she cried. "I had already screwed up my marriage. I was running around taking strangers home from the bars. My personal life was a complete mess. No one could trust me. I couldn't even trust myself."

He thought long before replying. "And that's how you met James?"

She nodded her head. "When I started working with Janie, I avoided all the guys. They would hit on me and I just kept thinking how disgusted they would be if they knew the truth. Then I made the mistake of going to one of their after work parties. I got a little drunk and let him take me home. Afterward he assumed I'd just be with him any time he wanted, but the truth was that I despised him because of the way I behaved with him."

Terry looked down in self-loathing. "The strange thing was, the more I detested him, the more it turned me on to be around him. He would order me around and I felt like I couldn't make myself say no. I could turn it off while I was at work and around everyone else behaving normally. But when we were alone, he knew just what to say to make me do what he wanted."

"Sometimes he'd push the envelope, other times he was satisfied with just hooking up. What happened last night..." she stopped and looked at him in dismay, "It was more than I thought I was capable of. Once he started in on me, I was completely out of control and just went along with everything." Her gaze turned pleading. "What is wrong with me?"

Michael pulled her close and let her cry against his chest. Whatever his thoughts were about her story, he knew they needed to wait for later. She needed to vent, and needed to be sure that it was safe to do so with him. But there was something even more important that he had to take care of.

"I'll be right back," he said soothingly. "Have some more tea and try to relax."

He jogged up to his bedroom and went through his contact information to locate Missy's phone number. He dialed the cell phone, sneaking back to the stairwell to make sure she was downstairs before he shut the door.

~~~~~

Michael was sitting on the couch when the doorbell rang. He quickly rose and hurried to the door.

"Hey Janie," he said, relieved she was able to make it over so quickly. "She's in the shower.

"I'll be right back," she called out, heading up the stairs in the direction he indicated without a backward glance.

She entered the bedroom, and walked to the bathroom door. Hearing the water still running, she decided that it could wait while Terry finished. She moved to the bed and sat on the corner, nervously smoothing her slacks.

A few minutes later the door opened and Terry walked out, wrapped in a towel. She froze, seeing the unexpected visitor.

"Janie, what...what are you doing here?" she stammered.

Not saying a word, Janie rose and walked to her friend, throwing her arms around her and began to cry. They held each other wordlessly, Janie trying to reassure the younger woman. She stepped away and sat back down, patting the spot next to her.

"What are you doing here?" Terry repeated.

"I'm here for my best friend, you jerk," she said through her tears.

"What did he tell you?"

"Don't worry, he was very discreet. He told me something very upsetting happened and he insisted you come stay the night. Then he told me what happened this morning."

Terry's expression darkened. "He shouldn't have done that."

"The hell he shouldn't!" Janie scolded. "He barely knows you and he's supposed to take responsibility for making sure you're ok? I'm your friend. You should have called me before you did something so stupid. You at least should have called afterward. Don't you understand how much I care about you?"

"I just didn't want..." Terry started, but didn't know how to finish.

"You didn't want to risk me being like your friends from before who abandoned you when you needed them? Is that what you were going to say?"

Terry looked away, too embarrassed to meet her friend's glare.

"I don't care how much you've tried to keep me at arm's length. You are my best friend. I've put up with your idiotic stunts because I knew you wouldn't listen to me but I loved you anyway. I did everything I could to show you that you could trust me, but you still won't let me in. I don't care anymore. I'm here whether you like it or not, and there's no way in hell I'm leaving unless you're coming with me."

The rebuke stunned Terry. She looked at her friend in wonder. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course I mean it, knucklehead," she laughed, pulling Terry close and sharing another long embrace.

"All right," she said affectionately, "get your ass dressed and I'll talk to you downstairs."

Terry watched her walk out the door, wondering how she could have been so blind for so long.

~~~~~

"She'll be down in a minute," Janie said, trotting down the stairs. She walked up to Michael and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for taking care of her."

He blushed profusely, then backed away. "I've got to get started. It's going to be a busy day." With a smile he added, "You'll keep her here, right?"

"I promised, didn't I? Janie replied. "Aren't you going to tell me why?"

"Nope," he answered with a mocking grin.

~~~~~

"Just a minute," came the gruff reply to the constant knocking. "What?" James said as he swung the door open, his expression turning hostile as he saw Michael.

"What do you want?" he hissed.

"Nice shiner," Michael replied evenly, refusing to let his emotions rise to the surface.

"Fuck off. We're not at work and you don't get to tell me what to do. You're lucky I didn't call the cops on you. My head is killing me.

Michael sighed. "Yeah, go ahead and call the cops. Let them know you were having sex in public with a drunk woman who may or may not have been willing. Then tell them how I hit you. We'll see how that plays out."

"May or may not?" he said incredulously. "Go fuck yourself. She wanted it. I should know, I've been fucking her long enough."

"Well James, that's your story and you should definitely stick to it. I'm sure they'll take your word for it."

He frowned, seeming to consider the possibilities. "Are you threatening me?"

"About that?" Michael answered. "No. I'm going to threaten you about this." Noting James's concerned expression, he continued. "We are going to have a group meeting on Monday. I'll discuss what happened and what we are going to do about it there, with everyone present. My concern is what you idiots might say between now and then. So what you're going to do is call your little posse, and tell each and every one of them that they are going to keep their fucking mouths shut until we talk. If any one of you talks to anyone and I hear about it, I will make it my mission in life to destroy your miserable little lives. Are we clear?"

James studied the older man, trying to discern if there was any hint of weakness or doubt about his claims. Seeing none, he conceded. "Ok, I'll make sure everyone keeps their mouths shut until Monday. But this bullshit about you getting to tell us what we can do on our private time isn't gonna fly. You might think you're being Prince Charming on your white horse, but you don't have shit to say about Friday night." He stopped, adopting a more aggressive posture. "Or any of the other times I fucked the little bitch."

We'll see about that, you punk, Michael thought. "Just make sure you talk to all of them and that they understand. You might think you know everything, but you don't. You will all be held responsible for anything that is said by any one of you about last night, or about her in general."

"Fine, now get the hell off my porch," he yelled, retreating inside and slamming the door.

Michael smiled at the small victory. One down, one to go,.

~~~~~

He pulled up in front of the modest two story home, wishing he could have had a drink first. This was a very risky move, but Michael believed it was key to making sure Terry would be all right. Just because she had chickened out once doesn't mean that she wouldn't feel so much regret that alone in her home she might not be tempted to finish the job. The only other option would have been to contact the authorities so she would be forced to seek professional help, but that would end any trust she might have started to feel for him. He simply couldn't take that chance.

Michael knocked on the door nervously, struggling to find the confidence to make this gamble work.

The door opened and a gray haired man stepped out. "Can I help you?"

"Mr. Carlson? I'm here to talk to you about your daughter."

~~~~~

Janie sat on the couch dumfounded as Terry opened up to her about everything that had been happening. She knew that her friend was self-destructive, but the truth was more than she could have imagined. The incident from Friday was so horrible that Janie couldn't listen without bursting into tears again. She recognized some of the impulses in Terry as she related the stories, but the actions were completely outside of Janie's frame of reference. It was like listening to a drug addict describing the degrading things they had done to get high.

"Did Michael say when he'd be back?" Terry asked. She couldn't explain it, but even with her friend next to her, Terry felt vulnerable without him there. It had been so long since she trusted anyone, but he had found a way to get inside a little. Deep in her gut she was starting to believe that he would look out for her no matter what.

She was also anxious to get home and into her own clothes. When she was getting out of the shower she took one look at the torn, stained dress and knew she'd never wear it again. Instead she had borrowed a jogging suit and curled up on the couch next to Janie, delighting in the closeness she had denied herself for so long.

"I'm back," Michael's voice rang out. He walked through the door, and looked into the living room. "How's it going?"

"I'm much better, thank you," Terry answered. "But I'm glad you're back...er, you know, because I have to get home," she stuttered, exchanging an embarrassed grin with Janie.

"Home?" he said incredulously. "I was going to cook dinner!" Both women looked at each other, then enthusiastically voiced their approval.

They moved the conversation into the kitchen, where they talked while Michael prepared the most impressive meal he knew how to cook. As he was working, he'd periodically study Terry to attempt to gauge her mood. He was still going to insist she not be alone tonight, but was unsure how he'd go about convincing her if she refused to agree.