If Tomorrow Never Comes (18 page)

           
Clumps of tissue's lay on the table,
and though Margaret continued to sniffle, her eyes' red and puffy, her nose
sore, Jordan envied her discomforts. Feeling so much sympathy for Margaret, for
Jake, Jordan wanted to cry, desperately wanted to, but couldn‘t, her mind a
mass of confusion with questions running amuck.
 
Why did Margaret care about Jake?
 
Why did she love him so?
 
Why did
she feel as though Margaret loved Jake more than she did her own son?

           
The answers came when Margaret
retrieved a scrapbook containing all the newspaper articles making front-page
headlines since she'd known Jake, interpreting how many times he’d survived
being shot, stabbed, beaten, and yet persisted.
 
Before her in black and white the explanation Jordan sought, Jake was a
real life superman, an all American Hero, Margaret’s hero.

           
Jake tried to save her son, Margaret
continued, but John possessed a self-destruct button just like his father.
 
John lived longer only because of Jake, the
first man Margaret ever knew that was worth a grain of salt.
 
She loved him, loved him with all her
heart.
 
She did not have to tell Jordan,
she knew, felt it, saw it, a powerful love Jordan wanted desperately to believe
in, and was beginning to resent.

           
Both emotionally and physically, the
day drained Jordan.
 
When Jake arrived,
he never spoke nor did his eyes meet hers.
 
On his way to the bedroom, beneath lowered lashes she stole a glimpse of
him for the first time seeing a different man.
 

           
Yes, she reflected, having weathered
the same storms, they were alike. How could she hate someone that had leaped
the same hurtles as she, someone Margaret loved?
 
For whatever reason, she felt compelled to
help get Scorpio, maybe then Jake could go on with his life, Margaret could be
happy, and she could be free.

           
Ever so slowly Jordan began dressing,
cringing with each layer of clothing smothering her skin, and gagging at the
odor churning her stomach. Applying the camouflage when repulsion crawled over
her skin the only thing staying those feelings was imagining the day she’d
finally burn the clothes as a symbol of freedom, the day she'd embark on a new
life.

           
Earlier in the day standing, kiddy
corner, in the alley across the street from Jake's apartment building, someone
watched him leave for work, a thirty-five-millimeter camera with a
telescopic lens in hand aimed at the second floor window.
 
As Jordan stood framed by glass, there was a
series of clicks.
 
That night waiting for
Billy under his door in a manila envelope was several enlarged photographs with
a note attached that said, “Investigate.”
  

           
Flipping through the photos, Billy
thought how breathtaking and remarkably beautiful the woman was.
 
At once, he wondered whom she was, where she
came from, how she fit into this mess. For the longest time he was stricken
deaf and dumb by her tiger-eyes.
 
When he
was finally able to tear his eyes away from the woman, he recognized the
apartment building.
 
Sounding like a wad
of crinkling foil, his heart became a shriveled ball.

CHAPTER 18

The
library was awe-inspiring with floor to ceiling mahogany bookcases adorning
three walls.
 
On the other, a life size
oil portrait of Marla wearing a black, strapless, evening gown.
 
In front of the painting, an elaborately
carved mahogany desk embellished with typical office items, among them several
preferred snapshots of Scorpios' adored mistress.
  
A burgundy leather sofa added to the
masculine ambience beneath which impeccably clean parquet floors glistened.

Stretched
out on a window seat nestled between the bookcases, Marla gazed out the only
window grand enough to permit an unobstructed vista of the rolling green lawn,
brilliant flowers and abundant trees.
 
In
the background, sailboats seemed to take on wings against the blue horizon.
 

She
was listening to the bird's chirping welcoming the sun and warmth, or, as she
elected to presume, offering their thanks for the seed she distributed earlier
in assorted bird feeders.
 
Satisfied that
her only friends were well fed, she smiled as they frolicked and bathed in
their grand marble birdbath.

As
her thoughts meandered, as if a child in a cosmos of make-believe, she was
unaware of the phone ringing or the conversation-taking place, Scorpios'
flushed face, his mashing teeth.
 
She
heard nothing until he hurled the phone against the wall the sound jerking her
from revelry.
 
The calm that before had
sprawled around her in sunny innocence now held an ambience of
expectation.
 

Positioned
in a chair in the hallway awaiting orders the same noise jerked Butch instantly
to his feet.
 
Standing in the doorway,
his overly trained muscles bulging from adrenaline signaled that he was alert
and ready.

“That
son of a bitch,” Scorpio roared trampling the Aubusson carpet in front of the
desk, his exaggerated actions commanding Marla's attention.

 
“What is it, darling?
 
What has upset you?”

“Morgan,
who else, he's cleaned up his act and is looking better than ever.
   
Wouldn't you know, just when I’m ready for
the kill a broad enters his life?”

Scorpio
now held Marla's undivided attention.
 
“A
woman?”

“A
young, beautiful woman, who is sharing his apartment.”

Unable
to control her response coming swiftly to her feet, Marla walked heavily to the
mini bar, and threw open the doors.
 
Fumbling with the contents, “Impossible,” her thoughts stampeded, there
had to more to the story.
 
Jake, would
never, could never.
 
The barest
reflection of Morgan that once caused her heart to rumble, her body to dew with
want, instead, made profanities curl her tongue. One hundred percent jealousy
governing her actions poured an excessive amount of whiskey into a glass that
she gulped in one swig.

With
her mind swimming in boiling thoughts, Marla became frightened Scorpio might
see or hear her Richter scale reactions. Though outwardly, she was working hard
at remaining calm, hateful reflections ranted and rallied controlling the toe
of a shoe tapping the floor to heart palpitations.
 
Who was the slut?
 
Where did she come from? What did she look
like?

With
words as sweet as honey, yet, tainted with deadly poison, Scorpio asked,
“Something troubling you, my love?”

“Certainly
not,” Marla answered much too quickly, having to bite her tongue to keep anger
stashed inside.
 
Trying to regulate the
emotions soaring like a rocket she purred, “What makes you think that, darling?”
 
Training lips into a sweet, false smile Marla
turned, shock registering on her features upon discovering Scorpio mere inches
from her face.

Abruptly,
strong hands securing trim arms just below the shoulders held them rigid.
 
An off the shoulder bodysuit clinging to
heaving, braless breasts, exposed the magnitude of her fright as Scorpios'
mouth greedily found hers crushing and grinding whiskey tainted lips.
 
Pressing forward his body securing her hips
and buttocks against the cabinet permitted his penis to heave roughly against
tender flesh and fragile bone.
 
All at
once, his fingers released her arms snatched the stretch material of her bodice
and yanked it to her waist exposing her breasts.

“What's
troubling you, my dear?
 
Are you thinking
about Morgan?
 
How he once held you,
kissed you, fucked you?
 
Was he such a
stallion I haven't erased him from your mind?”
 
Pressing against her harder, his hands crushing her breasts, his nails
practically piercing translucent skin he continued, “You're mine.
 
You'll always be mine.
 
Don't you forget it?
 
He'll never have you again, never.
 
I'll kill you both first.”

A
hand squeezed her buttocks securely against him, the other sliding between her
breasts, grazing her collarbone, and neck stopped to clutch her chin.
 
Menacing vice like fingertips began crushing
the delicate bone as he spoke, “Kiss me.
 
Kiss me as you would, Morgan. Show me you've forgotten what it's like to
lay beneath him, to feel him inside you.
 
Convince me or I'll choke the life from you.”

Left
no choice but to comply opening her mouth, Marla obeyed.
 
Slipping her tongue past Scorpios' lips it
danced, teased, and tormented the moist member within.
 
Thin, feminine fingers came between his legs
to fondle the mass found there.
 
Mouths
continued to devour as she unzipped his fly to release the part oozing from
desire. Raising her skintight mini skirt Scorpio gained access to black silk
panties that he ripped from her body.

Just
when she believed the battle was in her favor, abruptly raising his mouth from
bruised lips, Scorpio summoned fears' staph.
 
“Come here, Butch.
 
I don’t want
you to miss the entertainment.”

Butch
did as commanded stopping a few feet away, his shocked expression saying what
he could not.

Scorpio’s
eyes stabbed Butches.
 
”I know you watch,
and listen.
 
I want you to see up close
the sumptuous body I've claimed.”
 
Out of
the corner of his eyes he saw what Marla’s fingers were struggling to reach.
 
“Most importantly, make sure my darling
mistress doesn't stab me in the back with the ice pick she seeks.”

Terror
and disbelief widened Marla's eyes.
 
Finally convinced Scorpio was insane; she couldn’t believe he was the
man she'd grown to care about, the one she did everything to please.
 
Enduring the retching of her stomach, she
prayed for the power to summon a lightning bolt that would strike both men
dead.

Continuing
to heave his body against hers, Scorpio persisted, “When I'm through, maybe
I'll give her to you.
 
Then, you can do
all the things that have filled your dreams.
 
Isn't that right, Butch?
 
Right
now, you would like nothing better than to fuck her just like me.
 
Wouldn't you like to touch her breasts, lick
them, suck them, place your finger between her legs, and make her dance?”
 

During
his five years of faithful service, Butch never saw Scorpio so enraged, so
demented.
 
What terrified him more
Scorpio read his mind? “Yes, sir,” not daring to say anything else.

 
The hands on Marla's buttocks, kneading them,
suddenly lifting her, separating her legs directed them around a narrow
waist.
 
“Are you watching, Butch,”
Scorpio taunted, just before he entered her.

Butch
saw the pain on Marla's face, the terror, the shock, and cowered at her stifled
scream cut off by Scorpio's smothering lips.
 
Cringing, Butch watched as Scorpio grabbed her waist and began directing
rapid painful moves. He was only human the color of his skin didn't mean he
wasn't a man with the same desires as any other.
 
He wanted Marla, wanted every part of her and
as Butch scrutinized his master's ride, he could only imagine the ecstasy of
changing places.
 
Still, he despised
Scorpio’s manipulation, for knowing how much he loved Marla and what he'd give
to have her.

Scorpios'
last thrust, slamming Marla's body against the cabinet knocking the wind from
her, bashed her head against the wall.
 
Butch didn't dare close his eyes though he desperately wanted to hide
from the horrified expression twisting Marla's face.
  
Clenching his knuckles at his side was all
that prevented him from plunging a tight fist through Scorpios' back to rip his
heart out.

Regaining
his composure, Scorpio jerked the teeth of his zipper closed.
 
Without raising Marla's blouse to cover her
breasts, without lowering her skirt to hide her most private area, grasping her
shoulders, he spun her around holding her back firmly against his chest to
allow Butch a better view.