index


Message-ID: <54891asstr$1163571002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Wine Maker" <wine_maker@eknifeshop.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
NNTP-Posting-Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 03:55:04 +0000 (UTC)
User-Agent: G2/1.0
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: h54g2000cwb.googlegroups.com; posting-host=24.174.32.144;
   posting-account=lQ9acQ0AAABJInUbzelvor2A2ilH0RcZ
Subject: {ASSM} Karma, Chapter Three: A story in Nick Scipio's Summer Camp Universe
Lines: 999
Date: Wed, 15 Nov 2006 01:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Karma
A story in Nick Scipio's Summer Camp Universe
(c) 2006 by Wine Maker

Summer Camp characters and universe (c) 2006 by Nick Scipio.
All Rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are
either the product of the author's imagination, are used fictitiously,
or are used with the kind permission of Nick Scipio, and any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments,
events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This story is fan fiction. It's also a short story of only five
chapters. I've tried to write it in enough detail to explain at least
the minimum needed for the characters to make sense, but it is a story
based on someone else's written work with a pre-established history
that would take too long to cover in full detail. If you want more back
story, I suggest you read Nick's excellent Summer Camp series. Even if
you don't want more back story, I still suggest you read Summer Camp.

The main character in this story is Regan Thomas, a minor character in
Nick's epic. She's rich, self-centered, and one of the major factors in
a seriously bad time for Nick's protagonist, Paul. They were in college
in the 80's when that happened and this story is set twenty years
later.

My incredible editor, Jo Beller, saw something redeeming in Regan while
many other readers condemned her as a bad seed. Jo finally convinced me
that there was more depth to her that should be explored. I pondered
Regan's Karma and this story is the result. I give credit to Nick for
creating characters to fire our imaginations and Jo for believing in
this story. And, of course, to my wife/editor, Mrs. Wine Maker, for all
her support. My writing is a tribute to her.

-----

Chapter Three: Blindsided

I laughed darkly at how impulsive and out of character this was, even
for me.

Tony looked up from tying on his skates and grinned. "What?"

"This," I said, waving my hand at the small crowd of kids and adults
filling the rink. "What the hell am I doing here?"

My subconscious supplied its own answer. My ex-husbands had been right
about one thing regarding me; I was a hedonist. I had a weakness for
doing things that brought me pleasure, even when it hurt others. Or me.
I liked to luxuriate in pleasure and comfort.

Sex had always been a part of that. So was the cocaine. Perhaps
especially the cocaine. Hard knocks had finally shown me that I had to
have limits in seeking my pleasures, or else risk losing everything
worthwhile in my life.

"Getting away from Conrad before you do something that you'll regret,"
Tony said, letting the grin slip away. "You were ready to tear him to
shreds and, however much you might have enjoyed it at the moment, you
would have regretted it later."

I used anger to cover the shock I felt at hearing him echo my thoughts.
"They can all go screw themselves," I said bitterly. "If Conrad ever
loved my mother, I never saw it. All he wants is her money and he'll
probably get it. The rest of those vultures care more about their
gossip. They've never cared about me. I was the 'failure' they all had
to put up with."

Tying off his laces, Tony hobbled over to me and sat down, using his
hand to lift my chin so I was looking directly into his eyes. "I know
all about being the 'black sheep', remember? Just ask my Dad." His eyes
grew distant and he smiled. "Oh, the things I've done to make him pull
his hair out. I can't imagine a nice girl like you even being in my
league."

I laughed with an abrupt shot of genuine humor and amazement. I tried
to restrain it, but the laughter took on a life of its own and I
couldn't stop. I laughed until I couldn't breathe.

When I finally managed some semblance of control, I saw he was quirking
a smile at me. I shook my head. "You have no idea. Unless you're a lot
wilder than I think you are, I can top your antics on your best day."

"We'll see. After we skate a bit, we'll have lunch - on me - and we'll
trade war stories," he said as he stood up, helping me to my feet. I
prayed that I didn't fall down too often. It had been twenty-five years
since I'd last been on skates and I didn't want a sore butt.

Taking advantage of his help, I stumbled onto the ice and clumsily
began to move. He skated backwards in front of me slowly, as though he
were just out for a stroll.

"You're doing great," he encouraged.

"I haven't fallen and been cut to sausage, you mean," I said,
windmilling my arms to keep what little balance I had. Then an
eight-year-old menace blew past me at warp four, dressed from head to
toe in blinding fuchsia. At this rate, I'd be lucky to survive.
"Graceful, I'm not. How did I let you talk me into this hare-brained
idea?"

"It's my smooth negotiating skills."

"Hah! You threw me over your shoulder and carried me off," I objected.
"How smooth is that?"

"You're here, aren't you?" he asked with another innocent grin.
"There's an old saying, 'if it works, it ain't stupid.' Following that
logic, I think I was smooth enough."

It was hard to argue with that. Screw it. If I was here, I might as
well have a good time.

-----

For an hour, Tony taught me how to skate all over again. At times, he
was so close I could feel the heat of his body as he showed me how to
move. I tried telling myself that it wasn't doing anything to me, but I
hadn't been that good at lying to myself since I was a teen. It
slung-shot my hormones like a teen-aged boy watching Julie Newmar as
Catwoman.

By the time we were ready to get off the ice, I was exhausted, both
physically and emotionally. I'd managed to trade my worries about the
funeral for worries about what I was getting myself into with Tony.
Every touch of his hands and body made the next touch seem less
intrusive and more welcome. I wondered if that was how one tamed a wild
horse. Did you touch it until it was used to your hands, caress it
until I wanted more? It, I told myself, not I. That was an embarrassing
slip to make, even in my mind. Caress it until it wanted more.

I sighed in resignation. This was getting more complicated and I was
losing control of where it was going. Already, I felt some kind of
connection between us that was nebulous and hard to describe.
Disturbing, too, in a way I couldn't quite put my finger on.

We turned in our skates and walked to the car. The sky was darker than
it had been earlier and the snow was coming down more heavily.

Tony took my keys out of my hand and jumped in the driver's seat with a
possessive grin. I shook my head and smiled, taking the passenger seat.
When we were secure, he took off in an almost uncontrolled spin.

I squeaked and grabbed the dashboard, glaring at him. "Tony! You stop
that this very second!"

He laughed but slowed down and brought the SUV under control. "Yes,
Ma'am."

"Men! You're all just little boys under the skin."

Tony didn't go for the bait and just drove silently until we pulled
into a Pizza Hut.

As he parked the car, I looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "Pizza Hut
is your idea of a romantic lunch?"

He smiled smugly back at me and opened his door. "I just said lunch.
Romantic is your add-on. Thanks for the insight, though. I promise I'll
start thinking romantically."

I cursed under my breath as I climbed out and walked slowly to the back
of the vehicle. Where had that come from? He was right. He'd never said
a romantic lunch, but somehow that's what it had morphed to in my mind
when I wasn't thinking about it. What was I doing to myself this time?

We shed our coats and hung them when we got inside, then a hostess led
us to a booth. Shortly, I had a tall glass of iced tea and the promise
of a hot pepperoni pizza to hold my grumbling stomach at bay.

Tony sat across from me watching me intently, as if he expected me to
say something. Not having any idea what that might be, I smiled and
stared back at him. After a minute, it started becoming almost comical.

I couldn't take it and shook my head. "We're just being silly," I told
him. "I think we had a miscue somewhere."

"Maybe," he agreed. "I don't believe in rushing things faster than
they need to go, so let's just forget the word romantic, for now."

I let my breath out in a sigh of relief. "Thank you. I'm not ready for
that yet." Yet? I winced. What the hell possessed me to add that damned
word?

Tony's eyes twinkled at me, but he let it go. "So, we've talked about
our childhood. What did the next twenty years bring you?"

I snorted. "Nothing but trouble. Two nasty ex-husbands, a lifetime full
of regrets, and a bunch of people I've hurt or disappointed over the
years."

"Come on," he said, frowning, "it can't have been that bad."

I laughed dismissively. "Oh yes it could."

With little nods and an interested expression, he slowly drew me into
talking about college and leaving Tennessee for UCLA. Again, I found
myself amazed at the things I told him. We only barely knew each other
and I was complaining about how like my father my ex-husbands were. I
even found myself telling him about some of the higher and lower points
of my days in pre-med, including Rod.

"So, you're a doctor?" he asked.

I shook my head. "No. I didn't really want to be one. That was for
Daddy." At least that was part of the story. Having seen a real doctor
up close and personal, I had finally realized that I'd never had the
drive to be one.

Thankfully, Tony didn't dwell on that. "This Rod guy sounds like a
real piece of work," he said with a scowl, "though I can't throw
stones. I've had my share of relationships, but I've never been
married. I think I'm too ornery for any woman to want," he said with a
grin. "I'm too much of a pirate."

That grin did things to my insides that I forced aside. I firmly
reminded myself that I needed another man in my life like I needed
another hole in my head.

Using my confused state against me, he kept digging. "So, with all that
behind you, what do you do to keep busy now? Did you ever go back and
finish your degree?"

I ignored the last part of his question and smirked at him. "Don't I
get to ask questions about your mysterious past?"

"It's polite to talk about the lady on a date," he said piously.

"Is this a date?" I asked, my eyebrows rising almost against my will.

"You're the one who said it was a romantic lunch. We can quibble about
the details later," he said, his tone falsely dismissive. "Back to
you."

I shook my head but smiled. "I do charity work." I proudly launched
into my list of charities I raised money for.

Tony listened and nodded. The small frown between his eyes made me
wonder if I'd said something wrong.

"That's a lot of charity work," he agreed, "but are you satisfied by
it? What you do for yourself? You know, to feel like you've made a
personal impact."

I blinked in surprise. "What? Of course I'm satisfied with it. What
gives you the idea I'm not?"

The arrival of the pizza disrupted my rising anger, and I forced myself
back from letting the emotion overtake me before I could think.

Once Tony had a few bites inside, leaving a string of cheese on his
chin, he continued.

"I hear how much money you've raised, but it doesn't seem like you're
getting much personal satisfaction from it. Don't get me wrong," he
added before I could object. "Giving money to charities does help
people, but it's not very personal. That always seemed to me like
helping the hypothetical needy."

What did that mean? I let the silence drag on as I thought about it and
ate slowly. He didn't interrupt me.

When I kept running into brick walls of incomprehension, I looked back
up and shrugged. "I must be missing something. What are you getting at?
I'm satisfied with it." At least the thinking had derailed my initial
angry reaction.

"Have you ever served food at a soup kitchen or helped a complete
stranger because it made you feel good?"

I stared at him, confused. "Why would I do that when I can fund an
entire kitchen? My money works much harder than I ever could by myself.
I assure you that I help plenty of needy people."

Tony shrugged. "Maybe it's just me. I like getting my hands dirty.
Things like the Habitat for Humanity. They build houses for people that
couldn't afford to build or buy their own. My personal satisfaction
comes from seeing them come home for the first time. Nothing beats that
feeling. That let's me use the skills I learned for work to help
others."

I heard what he was saying, but I didn't see how the two were
different. Instead, I changed the subject by zeroing in on his work.
"Speaking of your work, do you mostly work around here or do you
travel?"

His smile told me that he saw right through my conversational shift,
but he agreeably switched topics. "I travel every few months; when one
project doesn't need me anymore, I go to one that does. Not just in
this state, but all over the general area."

"You said you'd never married, but what about other long-term
relationships?" I asked. A part of me wasn't sure what I wanted to hear
him say.

"Some," he admitted. "They never lasted, though. We just never seemed
to mesh."

"I'm sure that one day you'll find the right woman."

He nodded, his eyes dark and expressive. "I think you're right. Timing
is everything."

I felt a shiver of something I didn't understand shoot through me and I
hurriedly looked at my watch. "Just look at the time! We need to get a
move on." His expression told me I wasn't fooling anyone, but in truth,
it was already late in the afternoon and I needed to get back to the
funeral home.

While he paid for lunch, I went to the ladies room and scrubbed my
hands across my face. What was wrong with me? Maybe I should just give
in and have a fling with him, because this itch was getting very
distracting. Stubbornly, I shook my head at my reflection in the
mirror. I didn't do casual. When the little devil's voice told me that
I should be thinking about making it more than casual, I covered my
eyes and groaned. I didn't need this!

I washed my hands and composed myself. As I came out, the woman sitting
next to the bathroom made me stop in my tracks. Or rather, what she was
saying into the pay phone made me stop. She was younger than me and
very, very pregnant. She was also slumped over the table with her face
buried in one hand.

"I don't know what to do, Mom," she said, dispiritedly. "He took
everything. He quit his job and just took off with everything. No one
knows where he went." Then her voice took on a bitter tone. "What
everyone knows is who he ran off with. Why couldn't they have bothered
to tell me before he left me like this?"

Smothering a dark and knowing smile, I slipped back into the bathroom.
I listened to her through the barely open door. I could have told her
some places to call to get help, but she seemed too proud to take
advantage of them. Her pain bothered me. I didn't want to leave her in
despair.

"I know you can't help me very much," she continued, "but can you
wire me just a little? Fifty dollars? Oh, thank you!" She sounded
almost pathetically grateful. "I'll pay you back as soon as I can.
I've got a week before the landlord comes looking for the rent and
that'll buy me food and give me some gas money so I can find a
job."

I blanched. Dear God, she didn't need to be working. She looked like
she was due any day. She needed to be off her feet.

"No," the woman said with a little heat. "I can't come home. I
love you but he's still there. I can't live with him. I just can't. I'd
rather starve. Please try to understand."

What about her baby? Her next comment told me that I wasn't the only
one asking that question.

"I don't have much of a choice, do I?" she said bitterly. "As
soon as he's born I'll take him to the fire station or give him up for
adoption. I don't want to, but I can't afford to keep him. He deserves
better than me," she said, almost in tears.

My heart ached. I wanted to help her, but she sounded as stubborn as
me. I'd never had a baby and I doubted I ever would, but her plight
still struck a chord in me. I thought furiously. What could I do?

"Yes," she continued. "Please wire it to me at the Western Union
office down on Main Street. And if you're going to send him to do it,
could you make sure he at least spells my name right?" She spelled
out Williamson. "At least he remembered Joan last time," she said
tiredly. Then she slowly recited her address. I repeated it silently
several times while I set my purse on the counter and dug through it
looking for something to write on. The first thing I found was the card
Tony had given me with his number. That was ironic.

I counted out what I had in cash and it totaled out to almost four
hundred dollars. Not very much, but I mostly paid for stuff with my
card. It would just have to do.

Now I just had to figure out how to give it to her without her being
able to turn me down. I folded the bills up and walked out of the
bathroom. She was listening to her mother and still had her face buried
in her hand, her elbow propped up on the table. Her purse was beside
her elbow. I could see her open change purse inside it. She was
probably using the change for the call. I deftly dropped the bills into
her purse and walked out.

Tony had the SUV idling by the curb. I climbed in feeling light inside.
I grinned at him. Who said I didn't know how to get personal
satisfaction?

-----

Everyone had deserted the funeral home by the time we arrived. All the
family was gone, even Conrad. That made me boil inside. How dare they
just leave her like this?

I went to stand beside my mother. Looking down at her, I realized how
badly having them leave her here alone hurt me. After tomorrow I'd
never see her again. That brought on a fresh onslaught of tears.

I'm not sure how long I stood there holding her hand, feeling like
every tear that fell made me somehow emptier inside, when I felt
someone beside me. I looked up, ready to chew off Conrad's head for
bothering me again, if he'd had the balls to come back, and only barely
cut off my attack when I saw it was Tony.

"Regan, the viewing is over and it's time to leave," he said gently.
Were construction workers supposed to be gentle? They should be tough
and decisive, sure, but gentle?

"I'm not going," I said with a willful toss of my head. "I'm staying
here with Mother."

I expected a condescending smile, but he didn't smile at all, he just
nodded. "I know, but you can't. We have to go."

"She's my mother and I won't leave her," I shouted, abruptly angry with
him. "I won't! She needs me here!" I waited for him to either walk away
or counter-attack, perversely glad for the outlet for my pain.

Following his developing pattern of behavior, he did neither of those
things. He instead reached out, pulled me into his arms and held me
tightly.

My body stiffened in shock and tried to shove him away but he was too
strong. "Let me go!" I wailed. "Just leave me alone!"

"No."

As quickly as it arrived, the anger fled my body. I felt grief for my
loss and a deep and abiding fear of never seeing my mother again flood
through me. "I don't want her to go," I cried, suddenly clutching him.
"Please, don't let her go."

"I know you don't," he whispered, "but she's already gone."

I sobbed and half-broke away from him and started pounding my fists on
his chest. "Liar! She's right here!"

He didn't resist my attack, but it was like hitting a brick wall,
except I had a better chance of knocking down the wall. When the tears
pushed the anger away, he pulled me back into his arms and this time I
didn't resist. "It hurts, I know," he whispered. "But she's already
gone to a better place; a happier place."

"But I don't want her to go!"

He turned me away from the casket and pulled me along toward the door
while I cried and railed against him. By the time he put my coat on me,
all the fight had gone out of my body. I just stood there and let him
slip it on and lead me out to his Land Rover. I didn't even object when
he strapped me in like a child.

Tony belted himself in and took the Rover out to the street, leaving
Conrad's SUV behind. "Left or right?" he prompted.

When I looked outside, snow was falling heavily and the wind had picked
up. I took a deep breath and pulled myself together enough to give him
directions out of town and up the mountain.

He didn't try to talk to me on the drive, other than occasionally to
prompt me for directions. I didn't understand, but I was grateful.
Weren't men supposed to try to fix everything? Not all of them,
apparently. At least one could listen without judging. I felt wrung
out. I'd lost both my control and composure again, and I was glad that
Conrad and Daddy hadn't seen me. I couldn't do anything right, it
seemed.

The interior of the Rover finally sank into my awareness. Tony had
packed it with tools and the Rover smelled like... like him, I
realized. It didn't smell bad, just male. I rolled my eyes and laughed
inside at myself. This was just perfect. I really didn't have the time
or emotional energy for this.

Tony glanced at me and smiled before returning his eyes to the road in
silence, giving me time to get myself back under control.

-----

By the time we pulled up in front of the chalet, I'd regained enough of
my composure to get out of the Rover and wait for Tony to meet me by
the door. He had his overnight bag in hand when he joined me.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

He made a throwaway gesture. "You've done nothing to be sorry about, so
don't worry about it."

I smiled and nodded gratefully. "Come on inside and let's get you
settled." I led the way, saw to taking off our shoes and coats, and
gave him the same short tour that I'd given Melissa yesterday.

"This is a nice place," he said, looking at the ceiling. "Really well
put together."

I stared at the ceiling and it looked like... a ceiling. Leave it to
Tony to ignore the decorations and go right to the structure around us.
"I should just start calling you Bob Villa."

He laughed. "I can't help it."

With an amused shake of my head, I took him into Conrad's hall and
found him an empty room, pointing out everything he needed to know then
excusing myself.

I left him to put his things away and went to the bar. From the quiet,
it was obvious that neither Conrad nor Daddy and company were here, so
I figured I might as well settle in and get ready for them. Times like
these made me wish I'd never given up using coke, as much pain and loss
as the stuff had caused. I felt the siren's call of the little vial in
my room, and it seemed like a really good idea right now. Rod was
right, I thought morosely, I couldn't deal with this on my own.

I poured myself a stiff drink and downed it quickly, then refilled the
glass. I preferred a good wine over liquor but right now I needed
something more. The burn settled quickly in my stomach and I started to
relax. I opened the glass doors and stepped out onto the snow-packed
deck, taking the bottle with me. The cold burned into me, but I ignored
it. I left the lights off and silently closed the door behind me.

The hot tub dominated the deck. I longed to just climb in and soak.

Stepping out to the exterior rail, my bare feet crunched in the snow. I
stared into the darkness and just let the cold numb my feet. Sipping my
drink, I cleared a spot on the rail and set the bottle down. It seemed
impossible, but the snow was falling even harder now.

Even though I could only see the tops of some of the closest trees,
they were right at the level of the deck. The ground behind the chalet
sloped down steeply for a good ways.

I felt the heat leaching from me and refilled my glass. I knew I should
go back inside, but the part of me that didn't care seemed to be in
control of my muscles and I stayed there shivering in the snow. Setting
my glass down beside the bottle, I cleared a wider area of the rail and
climbed up to sit on it, with my legs dangling into the darkness below.

Here, I was alone. Not that I'd been any other way for very long. I
emptied my glass and tried to refill it, but my numb fingers couldn't
hold the glass and it dropped into the abyss in front of me. It was
gone, as if it had never been.

Staring down, I felt a moment of vertigo and gripped the rail below me.
I marveled at how easy that had been. One moment and the glass was
gone. It was probably tumbling down the steep slope, unless it had
smashed into a tree. I wondered if that would hurt much. Or for long.

My dark ruminations stopped when the door to the house opened behind
me. "Regan?" Tony asked.

I thought about just pushing off. A few seconds and it would be over.
They could bury me with my mother and no one would care, except for my
friends.

Thinking of Gina, I rejected the thought of jumping and cursed my lack
of resolve as he walked up behind me.

"It looks like a long way down."

"It is," I assured him.

"Then let me help you back onto the deck. I don't want you to fall." He
took the bottle from my hand and set it on the rail, pulling me back
onto the deck with absolutely no effort. Standing me up in front of
him, he eyed me critically. "And it's too cold out here for you to be
out without a jacket or shoes. Come inside and we'll sit in front of
the fireplace."

 "I don't want to go in," I said petulantly. "I want to stay out here."

"If we stay out here, we need to be warmer," he said reasonably. "Let's
step inside and get our coats and shoes."

So, he didn't trust me alone out here. He must have sensed something in
my voice. This man was far more perceptive than I cared for right now.

"Let's get in the hot tub," I countered. "It's hot enough to keep us
warm." I pulled the cover off the tub. What was I doing?

I saw him grin in the darkness. "For some reason, I didn't think to
bring my swimsuit with me."

I grinned back challengingly. "I didn't either. Come on, I promise your
virtue is safe with me." Had I lost my mind? Getting naked in a hot tub
with a man was just begging to be screwed silly, and I didn't really
know him at all. It would never work. Still, part of me whispered that
getting screwed silly had its upsides.

"Regan, you've been drinking and you might regret..."

I cut him off with a laugh, pulling my blouse over my head and tossing
it to the side. "I've done so many things over the years that I regret
that one more will hardly matter. I'm getting in the tub and you can
either join me or go back inside."

He watched me strip and drop my clothes on the deck. I could see the
interest in his face even in the dark. He wasn't superman or gay. That
was a relief. I grabbed the bottle from the rail and set it on the side
of the tub before stepping in. The hot water felt scalding before my
body adjusted to the radical change in temperature. I settled into the
water and let it flow up to my neck.

With a shrug, Tony disrobed with economical movements and stepped into
the tub. His torso rippled with muscle and that kicked my hormones into
a higher gear. Or maybe it was his erection. It bobbed as he settled
into the water. Definitely not gay, though he sat almost out of reach.

I took a slug of liquor straight from the bottle and handed it over to
him. He took a drink and set it beside him.

"I think you're being too hard on yourself, but tonight isn't the right
time to talk about this," he said, handing the bottle back over to me.
"It's never too late to start again. Who hasn't done something we'd do
differently now? You can't change the past, but you can decide to live
the rest of our lives differently. Break the cycle."

"That's easy to say," I snorted.

Tony nodded. "And it's the hardest thing in the world to do.  It means
knowing who we want to be and intentionally making that leap of faith
to leave the old us behind forever."

I sat quietly - mulling the magnitude of what he'd said - until he
changed the subject to trivial, more mundane things. I gratefully
entered into discussing what we liked and what we hated. We talked
about food, wine and movies. We passed the bottle back and forth
companionably. Inside five minutes, a comfortable sense of familiarity
had replaced the tension. The more I relaxed, the more a sense of
something being starkly wrong nagged at the back of my mind.

It took me almost an hour to figure out what was really bothering me.
When I finally pinned it down, I was shocked to my toes. Over the years
I'd felt a deep sense of attachment to only a very few, select people.
These people had become my closest and dearest friends, and it had
happened in a matter of hours or days each time. We'd sit and talk and
then, suddenly, it was as if we'd known each other all our lives. In
each case we'd become lovers as well, usually soon after that.

The thing was that every one of these people who had become first
friends and then lovers were women. Until now, I reluctantly admitted
to myself. This is what had been nagging at me since I'd met him, but I
hadn't been able to see the danger. This was really bad. How could this
have happened? I was in my mid-thirties and had never felt this way
towards a man, ever. Not even the ones I'd married. I'd long ago
decided that while I was bisexual, I leaned more towards women. What
the devil was wrong with me? It couldn't be the booze. I'd been as
drunk and high on coke countless times. This had never happened before.
Now that it had, I had no idea what it meant or what to do about it.

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked. He set the empty bottle outside the
tub and stretched his back, causing his chest to ripple. My body
reacted in a way that it shouldn't. Heat flashed back through me, and I
wanted him right here and now.

Even in the hot water, a chill ran up my spine. I didn't understand
what was happening and I needed space. Gathering what dignity I could
muster, I stood up and let the water sluice off me. I was a little
unsteady but a hand on the side of the tub served to let me regain my
balance. Tony looked at me, and I could see the desire in his eyes.

With more strength than I thought I had, I stepped out of the hot tub
and started gathering my clothes. "I'm going in and showering." That
sounded abrupt and I heard a quiver in my voice that wasn't there very
often. Whatever faults I had, lack of self-assurance wasn't usually one
of them.

Tony hid the flash of disappointment well. If I hadn't been looking
right at him, I would have missed it as he transitioned to a thoughtful
nod and masked his initial reaction. I didn't think he was angry,
though, like Rod would have been. He was just disappointed. He rose
from the tub, grabbed his own clothes, and followed me in. "Good idea.
We were going to wrinkle soon."

We went our separate ways and I left my clothes in my room before
getting into the shower. I let the hot water run for a few minutes to
scrub myself clean and then turned it cold. The icy water shocked my
body, and I hoped it would shock some sense into me and quench these
feelings. I didn't have any business feeling like this toward a man.

After I toweled off, I slipped on my robe and made my way back to my
room to dress. I was surprised find Tony sitting on the edge of the
bed. I was instantly unsure of myself. Was this the play for me that I
hadn't thought was coming? He was fully dressed, so that didn't seem
likely, but he was a man, after all.

"Your door was open, so I thought I'd just wait for you here. That's a
nice piece of art," he said with a nod to the small painting on the
wall. It was of a skier taking a slope with a spray of snow
rooster-tailing behind her. "Is that you?"

I smiled but shook my head. "No, it's not me. I just saw it in an
online auction and picked it up. I don't know him, but the artist does
good work. Remember him if you need something. His name is Keven
Braddock and he's in LA." I hesitated in stripping off the robe to
dress but decided that was kind of idiotic after I'd flaunted my body
in front of him already.

I tossed the robe onto the bed and started dressing in something
casual. I could feel his eyes caressing me and cursed the flutter in my
stomach. He didn't get up and try anything or make any comments. Maybe
he wasn't going to try something after all.

He waited for me to dress and then he pointed to the dresser. "Mind if
I ask what that is?"

It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about, and then I
flushed. I casually put the vial into my pants pocket while I struggled
for some reasonable explanation. Then I sighed, damning the feeling of
guilt that caused me. I wouldn't lie to a friend like that and this was
something that could ruin our budding friendship. Well, maybe it was
all for the good if it did. That would at least get me out of the
uncomfortable mental place where I'd cornered myself.

"It's coke." There. There it was. I'd done it, now to see where all the
pieces landed now that I'd blown everything up. I watched him with what
calm I could muster.

His face expressionless, he nodded. "I thought it might be. I heard
people talking at the viewing, and one of them mentioned you'd had a
drug problem, but he thought you'd kicked it."

The unasked question hung in the air. Was he wrong? I shook my head. "I
went through rehab. I don't feel like talking about it, but I haven't
relapsed for almost five years."

"Then why relapse now? Is it because of your mom?"

I shrugged and inexplicably felt tired. Pulling the plain wooden chair
over, I sat down in front of Tony. "It's hard to explain. I haven't
relapsed yet. Or I'm in the process of relapsing. Or I've relapsed but
just haven't taken a snort yet." I had to admit to myself that when I
hadn't said no, that I'd said yes. I just hadn't gotten up the nerve to
snort it yet. That bastard Rod.

"But you want to?" Tony asked quietly.

I nodded slowly. "I'm tired of being down all the time," I said, the
tears starting slowly down my face. "I can't handle this."

Tony took my hands in his. "I assume you quit for a reason the last
time. Probably because it was messing up your life. Right?"

I laughed mirthlessly. "You say that as if you haven't heard all the
rumors. I swear, I hate having relatives."

He shot a lopsided smile at me. "I try not to hold past bad behavior
against anyone. Glass houses and wrecking balls, you understand. I
won't say something stupid like 'it doesn't matter' but in truth, it's
not relevant. I've only known you a little while but I can see
something worthwhile inside you. Something honorable."

I snorted and shook my head. "You don't have my reputation."

"No, I have my own," he admitted. "But that isn't what I'm getting at.
Let me put it this way. Paraphrasing Lois McMaster Bujold, a science
fiction author, reputation is what other people know about you. Honor
is what you know about yourself. Our stress about it happens when the
two aren't the same. Be true to yourself and to hell with what everyone
else thinks."

He smiled at my startled expression. "Look, the past is just that: the
past. It's the road we walked to get where we are, not who we are. If
you don't like where you are in life all you have to do to change is
walk away. As hard as that can be sometimes." He pointed to my pocket.
"The question I will ask is: will that help you a week from now or hurt
you?"

Bowing my head, I swallowed. "When I'm high, I don't feel bad, but it
takes over my life. I'd have to say that coke helped push college and
my first marriage to slow destruction. It took me falling apart, and a
good friend intervening, to force me to get help. Gina kept at me until
I couldn't deny it anymore. Then she stood by me and watched me like a
hawk for months."

"That's a real friend," he agreed. "I'm surprised she isn't here now."

"I wish she were," I sighed, looking back into his compassionate eyes.
"She's out of the country."

"If you haven't relapsed in five years, where did you get the coke? In
town?"

"No. Rod gave it to me."

"Rod?" he asked with a frown. "Your ex-boyfriend? He lives here?"

"God, no," I said with some heat. "He flew in for the funeral. He's
staying in the room next to mine."

Tony's eyes hardened. "He came in and just dangles that in front of you
at a time like this?"

I shrugged. "Yeah."

With a visible effort, he brought himself back under control. "I don't
think you should give up. That's what giving in would be. I don't think
you're a quitter, Regan. Since your friend isn't here, let me step into
her shoes." His eyes bored into mine. "You don't need that crutch. I'm
here for you and I'll stay right here as long as you need me. That's
going to tempt you every minute you keep it. Dump it. If you can't do
that just for yourself, do it for your friend Gina, and for me.
Please."

Indecision tore at me.

Finally, I nodded and dug the vial out of my pocket and tossed it onto
the bed beside him. "You're right. Get rid of it."

When he shook his head, I stared in surprise and incomprehension. He
picked up the vial and held it out. "You need to get rid of it, I
think. Don't let someone else do it for you."

I didn't know whether to laugh, cry, or get angry. "Why?"

"Because if you pass it off to me that's passing off the responsibility
for your life to me. I want you to dump it. Take responsibility for
your own life."

Taking the vial in my hand, I stood up on unsteady feet. Tony rose with
me and followed me into the bathroom where I unscrewed the cap and
tried to force my hand to dump it into the toilet. After a moment where
I thought I wasn't going to be able to do it, I convulsively dumped it
into the water.

"Flush it," he quietly commanded.

With the plunge of the handle, the coke was gone. Numbly I screwed the
lid back on the empty vial and clutched it in my hand. Tony pulled me
into his arms and held me as I started to softy weep.

"It's going to be okay," he whispered. When the tears finally slowed
and my nose completely stuffed up, he walked me back to my room. He
pried the empty vial from my hand and set it on the dresser before
finding me some tissues.

In companionable silence, he let me dry my tears and regain my
composure. I knew he wanted to talk some more, but he didn't rush me. I
appreciated that.

The slam of the front door interrupted any further opportunity to talk.
I jumped a little, looked at the open door to my bedroom and listened
to see who was home. When I didn't hear any voices, I stood up and
debated closing the door. I froze in my tracks when Rod appeared at the
door and just sauntered in.

"Hey, Babe, I..." he drew up short when he saw Tony standing by the
bed. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Tony didn't say anything, but his body language was crystal clear. Gone
was the gentle man who had helped me get a grip on my life, and in his
place stood an angry man. A dangerous man. His eyes, so soft toward me,
were now chips of flint ready to spark a fire. I decided I had to act
now before he did something I wouldn't regret.

"His name is Tony," I said with a cold toss of my head. I stood up and
pointed to the door. "But I don't recall inviting you in, Rod, so hit
the road."

Still glaring at Tony, Rod's eyes flicked around the room and I saw the
hidden gleam when he saw the empty vial. His expression made me look
down in shame that I'd almost succumbed to it and to him. "I just came
in to talk about the weather, babe. No need to get all huffy. The snow
has been falling non-stop."

Tony stepped in front of me.

"She said to go," he said flatly. "You can either go on your own or
I'll toss your sorry ass out."

"I can handle him, Tony," I said as I gathered my anger. "We're done,
Rod. Get out." My stuffed nose ruined my imperious tone.

He smiled knowingly at me and sauntered out the door, laughing. "You
know where to find me if you want to talk about the weather."

Tony closed the door behind him and locked it. Then  he took me into
his arms. "I should've beat the shit out if him."

I smiled. "That'd be a really bad idea," I said. "Daddy likes him. I
think Rod is the son he never had. I have to live under the same roof
as him."

"No, you don't," he said softly. "Come away with me."

My head came up and I searched his face, trying to decide what he meant
by that. Part of me struggled to shake my head and refuse, but another
part of me was stronger and melted into his arms and I nodded. "Where
will we go?"

His hand tilted my face to look directly into my eyes. "I still have
the room I booked for tonight and tomorrow. We can share it." He must
have seen the struggle in my heart because he covered my lips with his
fingers. "No obligations. I promise that I'll be a gentleman."

A growing part of me didn't want him to be a gentleman, but I was
grateful not to have to make a decision right now while I was upset.
"Okay. Let me pack a bag."

"I'll be back in a minute after I grab my stuff. Don't open the door
unless you hear me outside." For a second I thought he was going to
kiss me, and I trembled, but he let me go.

After he left, I locked the door and started packing. I debated what to
take and decided just to take what I needed for a few days. Screw the
rest. My motions were wooden at first, but as I packed I gained
resolution, and my actions became faster and firmer.

I was still gathering my makeup when I heard a knock at the door. I
dropped my bag, and my heart suddenly pounded.

"Regan," Tony called through the door, "open up."

I unlocked the door and stared at him accusingly. "You scared the hell
out of me!"

He laughed. "Sorry. Are you ready?"

"Give me a second." I picked my bag back up, swept my makeup inside,
and zipped it. "Now I am."

He didn't waste time asking me if I was sure. Good. When he started
out, I followed him. The great room showed no sign of Rod, so either
he'd left again or was in his room. Even better. I briefly wondered
where everyone else was as we put on our outerwear. Then I decided I
really didn't care.

The only cars outside were Tony's Land Rover and a rental Mercedes I
assumed was Rod's. There was still no sign of Conrad or Daddy.
Excellent.

-----

A few false turns and half an hour later, we were at the Doubletree. I
looked over the lounge. It wasn't the Waldorf, but it would do. I
followed him to the room when he was done and it looked adequate, if
small. It would be fine for sleeping. Then it hit me. The room was a
single. I turned to look at Tony with a quirked eyebrow.

He shrugged and set his bag on the floor. "I expected to be alone when
I reserved it. Don't worry; I'll sleep in the chair." He gestured at
the uncomfortable-looking padded chair in the corner.

"If you say you'll behave, I believe you," I said with a shake of my
head, setting my bag on the low-slung dresser. "The bed is big enough
for both of us to sleep without trouble."

"I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable," he said quietly, opening
the bag and moving his clothes and gear into one side of the dresser.

"That's sweet, but I won't. If I do, believe me, you'll know it." I
unpacked and loaded my half of the dresser with clothes.

After we'd hung up the clothes that needed hanging and put our
toiletries into the bathroom, I sat on the bed and wondered where this
unexpected relationship was going. Then I shook my head. No, there was
no relationship. None.

"Hungry?" Tony asked. "We can order room service."

"Not really," I said, "but don't let me stop you if you are. I'm all
worn out."

"Then let's just get some sleep," he suggested. "I'll ask for a wakeup
call while you get ready for bed."

I brushed my teeth and weighed my options. Part of me still wanted to
go back into the bedroom and slake the growing lust I was feeling. If
it had been a woman instead of Tony, I would have indulged, but I still
felt held back. Staring at myself in the mirror, I shook my head. If I
gave in to my desire, it would be for more than a piece of ass, and I
still couldn't believe I felt this intensity in such a short time. I
needed to sleep on it.

When I was done, I let him have the bathroom and pulled out a long tee
shirt to wear over my panties. I turned off all the lights except for
the lamp by my side of the bed. I settled in between the sheets and
listened to him brush his teeth. This domestication came from out of
nowhere and made me feel something I hadn't felt in a long time.
Lonely. I sternly pushed back the feelings of warmth that his ordinary
preparations for bed had raised. How had he managed to get through all
my defenses with such ease?

I was still stewing in that hot soup of emotion when Tony came out of
the bathroom in a pair of tight briefs and an undershirt. Somehow, the
sight of him like that was much more erotic than seeing him naked. I
smiled and patted the bed beside me without a word.

When he was under the covers, I looked into his eyes and slowly leaned
forward until our lips touched, and I kissed him softly for a moment.
If he'd have kissed me back and wanted more, I would've given myself to
him, but he let me pull back without acting on the arousal I could see
in his eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered and turned out the light.

The warmth of his body next to mine relaxed me in a way that I never
would've imagined, though it also kept me awake long past the start of
his soft snores, thinking - debating with myself. A smile crept across
my face.

I was thinking about him and wondering exactly what I had thanked him
for when sleep took me.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+