Chapter 32 #2
“Yes. I’m no brain surgeon, or a plastic surgeon either, of course, but what little I know of the human brain and head tells me that your body suffered a catastrophic brain injury.
I don’t know how that part of you could have survived, which leads me to think your face is not a match for your brain.
” She shrugs. “It’s a hunch only, though. ”
He rubs his hand over his chin, clearly somewhat worried. I don’t say anything as this is not my territory. All I can do is, maybe, comfort him if he needs me, after she leaves.
“Thanks. I suspected as much. This”—he swipes the air before his face—“it says nothing to me. I’ve been thinking I must have the parts of more than one man. The stitches, the skin color, those aren’t a good match.”
“Yes. I don’t know if that was any help to you,” she adds softly.
“Don’t worry.” He shifts in the chair, and a smile brightens his eyes. “I’m starting to like my face.”
“Ha. Great attitude. Anyway, with that I will say bye. I have to go drop these samples off and get some rest.”
We stand as she drives off in the Jeep, then Kail goes behind me and hugs me, crossing his arms under my breasts. I wonder if he thinks what she said will change how I see him?
I run my hand down his arm. That reveal of Melody’s has been a surprise for me, if not for Kail. “Is there anything about that you want to discuss?”
“Not really. I am what I am. I think you said that before. It’s how I intend to live my live—as me.”
“That’s true. You are indeed.”
That’s how we all live our lives—as ourselves. We are made up of a million, million patchwork pieces of genetic material passed down to us by our ancestors.
He rocks his body against me, swaying into my ass. “Let’s go say a proper hello to the ducks. I want to get used to this new me by just holding your hand while we wander about.”
“Talking to ducks? I’m in.” We leave our muddy shoes behind and pick our way down the sloping bank, aiming for where an old timber bench and a small jetty with a half-sunken dinghy wait for us. “I’ll also volunteer to talk to river spirits and fish, and deer, too, providing they are alive.”
I think I just proved I’m slightly mad to Kail but he barely eyerolls, grabs my hand. “And if you fall in, I’ll jump in and save you. Then I might paddle your ass for endangering yourself.”
I release his hand and sprint for the jetty. “Promises, promises!” I’m not planning to fall in but having him growl his displeasure and chase after me is freeing. It’s the best fun I’ve had in a year, not counting the sex. I squeak and look back and go faster.
He catches me before I reach the jetty, of course. I’m breathless as he pulls me to the grass and sits on me, pins down my hands. “If you weren’t so damn muddy, I’d fuck you here and now. You scared the ducks!”
I look past him, down the embankment, where five or six ducks fly in an arc across the lake. “Oops. They’ll be back.”
“Instead, I’ll just do this.” Kail flips me over then sits beside me and drags me over his lap, then proceeds to pull down my black leggings and deliver a hard spanking that curls my toes, jingles the metal of my collar, and leaves me panting more than before.
My butt stings, and he’s admiring it, smoothing his hand over my curves, swatting me here and there.
Fuck, though. I’m staring at grass, feeling his hard-on under my belly, and wanting him inside me. I turn my head and peer at him, wriggle a little. “Ahem.”
“Needy, Miss Hailey?” He grins.
“Yes?” I squeak out then swallow. “I don’t often see you grin. It’s heartwarming…just like that spanking was pussy-warming. Do something?” I waggle my butt.
He pulls up my leggings, dumps me off him, and rolls me to the side, then he stands. When I rise to my hands and knees, he puts his bare foot on my hand. “Later, if you please me.”
Ooh, that meanness is in his eyes.
My clit, my dirty little clit, swells even harder. Do I tease him or… I eye where his foot presses on my fingers, not too much pressure, but enough. He bends over and gathers a chunk of my hair, winds it gently around his fist.
I turn my head and, selecting a nice clean spot, I carefully kiss his leg.
“Good girl. Now, run up and get some bread for the ducks so we can lure them back, and I’ll let you sit on me on that bench, naked except for your underwear.”
Devious man. I stroll back to the cabin. Feeling his gaze on me, I let my ass sway so that I can, maybe, tease him into letting me remove my underwear. Luckily, spring is blossoming, and I can wear almost nothing and not die of shivering.
I may die from lack of cock, though. I smile at that thought.
If only I could make this day last forever, and the bad stuff would fix itself.
Kail Stone
Before the sun sinks into the lake at the gap between the mountains, we fetch a few books from the shelf in the cabin, some snacks, and a bottle of wine that Melody left us, and we head down to the jetty.
As I thread my way past several rocks, I raise the bottle. “The food here mightn’t be five stars, but this will make up for it.”
“Hmmm.” She squints at the bottle, rearranges the armful of books and bags of snacks she’s carrying. Her blue dress flips about in the breeze, curling around her leggings. “Let’s hope it tastes okay.”
We sit on the jetty and ignore the bench, and the ducks ignore us.
This late in the day, they’re swimming elsewhere.
The beautiful shine of sunset spills across the lake surface and gleams on her hair and the pretty silver of her collar.
I end up leaning back against the timber bench with her head in my lap while we drink wine and try our books.
The Talisman by King was on the shelf—not surprising—and Hailey is reading it.
I’ve found a copy of a sci-fi by an author I don’t recall, but then when did I decide my memory was fine?
“Stranger in a Strange Land.” I examine the faded, dog-eared cover then stroke Hailey’s hair, which always feels like this curiously forbidden pleasure.
Considering I’ve done such kinky things to her, hair stroking should not feel forbidden.
Maybe in my world she had short hair? “That’s a big book. ”
She tilts her head back so she can eye me upside down then notices mine. “So is yours.”
“Tr— We have a visitor after all.” I point my finger at the forest where the trees and shrubs meet the embankment. Squiggle Cat is prowling toward us.
“Well. Well.”
“I’m not worried. You?” I ask.
“Not really. Least now we know it’s not normal, instead of wondering how the fuck it finds us. If it pulls out a flick knife, I’m leaving though.”
“Ha.”
Squiggle ambles down a steeper part of the grassy bank, then jumps to the jetty and pads over. The bug noises I first noticed have fallen silent. Perhaps the bugs aren’t quite used to this creature.
“It never meows,” I say thoughtfully. “I guess it hasn’t quite got the concept of cat figured out?”
“I guess?”
Behaving as if it has never been anything but cat, it comes to Hailey for a pat, nudging her hand until she obliges, then it curls up beside her.
I open my book and find the beginning of the story. I pause. Our cat thing is staring at the page Hailey has open in her book. If only I could see its eyes. Is it reading the text? How well can it think? “Where do you think it’s from?”
“I don’t know? Haven’t thought much about it. Another place in the universe? Which is beyond my pay grade and field of study.”
Mine too. We are both far too happy to let Squiggle sit beside us.
Has it hypnotized us? Too late now. I could say the same about Hailey letting me sit beside her, kiss her, make love to her.
That’s a bit more intimate than curling up and sharing a book.
I think back to the creature’s approach when I noticed something awry. My memory could be wrong.
“Has it got the same face markings?”
“You mean the black squiggle on its head that I named it after?” She tries to look but the cat is too close to her. “Maybe? All those tentacle-y markings are impossible to recall.”
Squiggle turns its head fully around to look at me, as if to say, yeah? Want to check?
I shake my head. “I’m not sure either. Live long and prosper, kitty.” I make the Vulcan Star Trek hand gesture at the cat.
Hailey frowns at me, upside-down. “Say what?”
She doesn’t recognize Star Trek? “Nothing important.”
“Hey, Kail, just a thought. No pressure.” She takes my free hand and caresses it, kisses the back. “Love your hands.”
“Good.” I smirk. “You were saying?”
Her sigh is long and measured. “I can wait for your answer, but do you think you could tell me, one day, where you really come from? Do you even know?”
My throat is tight with an unnamed fear. I fear telling her. I will kill anything that gets in her or my way but speaking the truth about this scares me.
“Maybe. Maybe I know. Not yet though. I will. I promise.” Why have I promised her? Because I should. It’s only fair. One day I have to trust her fully. I will do this.
“Okay.” And she squishes down, moves her head a little, and keeps reading.
Who am I really? My past is mostly a foreign country. Since at best I can only remember the day my handler died and snatches of my own first death, how can I be certain I do not come from the same place as this creature? I cannot.
Squiggle Cat gives me a totally catlike baleful glare then recommences fucking reading her book.
The sun will be gone in a half an hour, but I lay Stranger in a Strange Land aside and stroke Hailey’s hair. I can read back at the cabin. I take a sip of the wine, a nice Chardonnay, and bask in the serenity of simply doing nothing much at all while the world spins without us.
One day, I will tell her everything I know. It must be better than living dishonestly.