Wishing for Redemption Ch. 02

Maggie wore a simple outfit consisting of a spaghetti-strap white top which accented her sun-bronzed skin quite nicely, jeans and heavy work boots.

She ran over and he swept her into a bear hug.

"Hey John," she murmured into his shoulder.

"Hey Maggie."

Maggie had always been able to get him smiling with her exuberant and infectious personality. Her soprano voice sounded clean and clear, like a silver bell when she laughed.

He set her down and she gazed, searchingly, into his face.

"Something's... different about you. What gives?"

"I've managed to work through a couple of things, thanks to Hope."

As if on cue, she walked into the garage. Maggie looked her and something flashed across her face before she smiled and held out her hand.

"I'm Maggie Thurston."

Hope eagerly shook the offered hand, then frowned at John.

"John, you told me she was pretty. I don't appreciate you lying to me," hope said firmly.

"Excuse me?" Maggie bristled.

Hope turned back to Maggie. "He lied when he told me you were pretty. You're gorgeous."

Maggie's eyes went a little wider and she blushed slightly. John resisted the urge to face palm, but only barely.

"Sorry, Maggie," John apologized. "I forgot to mention she's a little socially awkward."

Maggie smiled as she turned back to her truck. "It's no problem. Gimmie a hand?"

After they got the beer put away, they all sat in the living room to enjoy a long evening of moves, laughter and beer.

There were many high rises in New York City but unbeknownst to everyone else, one office in particular had some strange occupants.

One man sat in his huge chair behind the equally palatial desk, gazing contemplatively out the window of his 50^th floor office. He was a short man at 5'6" with short cut black hair, ice cold blue eyes and he was so thin as to appear emaciated. Resting his chin on steepled hands, he considered what 'entertainments' he would indulge in next. He never bothered turning when the heavy oak door of his office opened and shit behind him as he heard high heels click on the marble floor.

"I asked not to be disturbed," he said coolly in a whiskey smooth baritone that hid the cruelty at his core.

"Yes, Master, but I may have found another one."

The man slowly turned around to look at the woman who entered. She was 5'8" with an athletically trim figure. Her platinum blonde hair framed a pixyish face, fell in a brain over one shoulder down to her waist. She wore a cream-colored blouse with a khaki skirt.

"Oh?" he asked.

"Yes, Master. Well west of here," she responded.

"Show me," he commanded.

She waved her hand as her eyes flashed and a holographic map of the USA appeared in front of him. He noticed immediately that there was a fuzzy circle over Ohio.

"Can you narrow it down any further?"

"I am sorry, Master. The protections and ancient laws forbid that. This is the best I can manage."

He smiled coldly. "Looks like we're going on a trip. Make the arrangements for us to leave in the early morning. We have a new acquisition to pick up."

She bowed. "Yes, Master."

She turned and left the office. He smiled as he contemplated what his new toy might bring him because Silas Jordan ALWAYS got what he wanted.

Hope lay snuggled next to her Master and sighed contentedly. She was enjoying the buzz of the alcohol and reveling in the quality of Master fate had assigned her. She was determined to make him happy for a long, LONG time.

The slept till just after dawn when Hope felt the shock at her very core. She gasped in fear and sat bolt upright, startling John awake.