Back From The Dead 2

** Disclaimer** All persons engaged in sex are over the consenting age of 18.

*****

Hi, my name is Meghan Conner and I find myself in the waiting room of the hospital maternity ward. My mom was to give birth to my first sibling, and I was so excited, but nervous as well hoping it would be a girl. Mom and dad did not want to know the sex of the baby, which I never could figure out why. I remember my dad coming out of the room with the brightest smile on his face. He stood so tall, and he was so handsome. He picked me up and said I had a brother which I was not enthused about but played along. When we went into the room, laying eyes on him for the first time, something happened. I knew we would be best friends as he smiled at me, my mother told me his name; Brad, after my grandfather.

When we brought little Brad home, my dad had to return to work. He was an attorney, and worked long hours, so I became my mom's helper. I would shadow her, in hopes she would ask me to hold him, or watch him. It felt as if my new brother and I could communicate non-verbally to each other. I could almost feel what he wanted to say, and he would just smile at me, grabbing onto my long red hair, and stare into my eyes.

Around my seventh birthday, we received the worse news of our lives. My father had been shot outside of his office with the police having no leads or evidence to point them to a suspect. My mom had shut down, and I took over taking care for Brad. He was way too young to know what was going on, and it helped me through my grief. I idolized my father in ways a young girl shouldn't. I always thought I would find someone like him one day and get married. Now my prince was gone, and I felt my dreams fading as well.

My mom began to change emotionally, no longer a warm person, and about a year after my dad's death, she started dating a guy named Joe. From what she told me; Joe was her first love. He dated her in high school, and college. She went to a party and met my father and was captivated by him. She told me how handsome he looked in his letter-man's jacket, being a football star. She would get a sparkle in her eye when she would talk about that night. Soon after, Joe was history in my mom's life, and he always said she would come back to him one day. Soon after they started dating again, they were married. They just went to the courthouse civil ceremony, never telling anyone, especially my brother and me.

Right after they married is when Joe started hitting us. He always called us bastard children and laugh in our faces that we would never be good enough to call him daddy. Of course, he did this when mom wasn't around, and she never believed us, blaming us for being jealous that she was happy.

When I turned ten, Joe started drinking heavily, and when he did, he became more violent. He hit my mom with closed fist, and as she screamed no, he would rape her. That is when I started taking Brad into my closet and covering him up so he wouldn't hear or see it. I would hold him close and sing lullabies to him, rubbing his back and pulling him deeper into me. Remembering my dad, how he was so gentle and tender to me, I wanted Brad to feel that, so he could be that way, and not like Joe who was filled with anger and rage. There were times when he would come after Brad, calling him that bastard son of hers, and instead I would give up my body for him to punish. I didn't want Brad to feel that pain or know what it was like. I knew each time Joe would beat me, Brad would be looking through the slats in the door at me, crying and wishing Joe was dead.

When I as 18, my body developed considerably. My breasts grew to a firm 34B cup, my ass filled out my jeans better, and I had many wet dreams. It seemed I always dreamed of the same guy, and he was a close model between my brother and father. I noticed my brother would try and steal glances at me when he could. I would just smile at him and tell him he was being a bad boy. He would run into his room embarrassed.

One of the last times Joe ever came after me, we were in the closet again. I could feel a change in my brothers breathing, and he was holding me closer to him, not the other way around. After Joe was finished with my mom, he came storming up the stairs, looking for us. When he opened the closet door, he grabbed me and slapped me hard. I went flying across the room, and didn't see exactly what happened, but I saw my brother and Joe going out my door with arms around each other. Then I heard some noises and my mom scream. I went to the top of the stairs and witnessed my brother and Joe tumbling down the stairs. My brother was holding his shoulder, and Joe was out cold. I called the cops and Joe was arrested but my mom was so furious at me, and almost kicked me out. She was so afraid of what he would do when he came back home.

When he got out of jail, he behaved for a few months, until at least I graduated. That's when I decided to move out and go far away to another state to attend college. I remember my brother was so upset that I left. I felt like I owed him for getting Joe off me that day. I also knew, I loved my brother in a way nobody could ever realize. He was beginning to look like my dad. He had grown to almost six foot now and had broad shoulders. He needed to put some weight on, but he was so down all the time, he hardly ate. His hair and eyes were even the same color as my dad's. This feeling came over me, I felt sick to my stomach, thinking I was a perv for feeling this way for my brother, or was it the thought of my father? Either way, I was a sick person for thinking it.

I went into my brothers' room and sat on his bed. I looked at him sleeping and started to feel tears in my eyes. "I'm so sorry that I am leaving, but I hope you understand Brad. I love you and will come back for you, I promise." I leaned down and pulled his covers up a little and kissed him on the forehead. He started to move, but just to turn a little in his sleep. "Sweet dreams little brother" I whispered softly. As I turned around, I noticed Joe in the doorway, smirking at me. I walked up to him and told him to get out of my way.

He held my arm and jerked me into my bedroom, "So, you got a thing for your brother? And they call me the sick one."

I could feel my anger building up and could not believe the words escaping my lips when I said, "He is more of a man then you will ever be Joe. He is loving, and he knows how to treat a woman. No, I don't have a thing for my brother," I felt like I was lying to myself more than anything, "but I love him with all my heart, and if men act like you, I will never want to be with a man ever!"

He just laughed and walked away, not before he hit the wall beside my head, trying to intimidate me.

*********

My first couple of months of college were spent with my nose in books studying. I would call to talk to Brad, but Joe always told me he was out. I knew he was most likely trying to keep us apart, and he avoided letting either of us have cellphones. So, keeping in touch would have to be letters, since internet wasn't allowed except to Joe. During my freshman year, I had a few first dates, and hardly ever had a second date. Most guys were only wanting my assets, and I wasn't willing to give them to just anyone. I felt like I was in college to get my education, so I could afford a place for me and my brother to get away from Joe and mom. So instead I focused on schoolwork. I was determined to become a lawyer and not just any lawyer; a prosecutor.

Around Thanksgiving, I called mom to let her know when I would be coming home. She sounded a little distraught and told me not to come.

"Mom, I haven't seen you or Brad since I left, I miss you." I said almost in tears.

She responded shakily, and softly, "I think you should stay and so does your brother. Things are going so well here. Joe and Brad are becoming close, and I am afraid it might mess things up."

"So, you are telling me to stay away?" I say with anger now, "it sounds like Joe not you."

She responded quickly, "No dear, I just think it is better this way. Please don't be mad, we will come there for visits instead, will that be alright?"

"Only if Brad comes too mom." I said with determination.

"OK, we will see Meghan, I love you." As she hung up, without letting me respond, I looked at my phone and was shocked and hurt, thinking that my brother was getting along with that slug of a stepfather. The hurt became anger quickly, and I swore I would never be with any man. I felt betrayed by both men in my life, as they left me high and dry.

When I graduated from college, I came home, still angry, but slightly curious about seeing my brother after all this time. When I came through the door, my mom was crying, and Joe was doing his best to console her. I set my things down, and came over to them, and asked, "What's happening? What's wrong with mom?" My mom could not even look at me as her face was still in her hands. I could see she had been crying for a long period of time.

Joe looked at me with saddened eyes, and said, "I'm sorry, I don't know how to tell you, but your brother left us yesterday.

Not my brother too, he would never know how I felt about him. I held onto my mom and we cried together. For the first time, Joe showed some compassion, but I still didn't trust him. One night I went into Brad's bedroom. I closed the door to ensure privacy as I looked around. There were some old clothes in the closet, not many in the drawers though. I went to his bed and laid down on it, putting my hands behind my head. Looking at the ceiling above me was a poster of Bryce Dallas Howard. I stared and thought I looked a lot like her. My hand found something under his pillow, and I pulled it out. It was a picture of me and him before I left. It was very worn, but I could tell he stared at me, as the worn edges was on his image. I smiled and started to cry, wondering if he felt the same way about me too.

That summer was hard for me, and I had no idea what I wanted to do. I had my bachelor's in criminal justice, and I didn't know now if I had it in me to go to law school. One day, Joe decided to go on a fishing trip, so mom took the opportunity to talk to me. She wanted to know what was going on in my life. She also told me how Joe had manipulated her to lie to me and how broke Brad's heart was. It hurt me, but I knew she had no choice in the matter, she still lived there, and she was trying to make peace. She asked me if I knew the story about how she met my dad. I told her yes, a million times.

"No child, the real story" she smiled, "the one that I was never to speak of."

"Well you have my full undivided attention mom." I said as I sat straighter on the couch.

Mom proceeded to tell me details about her past. Details about her love life with Joe in high school, how he was rough with her the first time. She said she loved him though, because he was always sorry the next morning. She had been dating him for two years and hid the bruises from her friends and family, until she went to college. She was telling me she broke it off with Joe beforehand, and he had not taken it well, declaring he would kill anyone who came around her. She believed him for a long time, but she said soon her roommate was asking her to go to parties, and she finally had said yes.

As she was telling me this, I was wondering why in the world would she go back to Joe after dad died, especially if he beat her then. She perked up and proceeded. She said when she walked into the party, there were at least fifty people in a small house, with music blaring and alcohol pouring. She told me she wasn't there five minutes when Joe came in, grabbed her and started to pull her outside. She was worried about what he would do, but at that moment this guy came up and stopped him and announced that she was with him. She said Joe went ballistic, and wanted to fight him, and said he didn't believe him. So, my dad walked right up to my mom and planted a kiss on her that she described knee weakening. Joe tried to swing on him, but my dad had avoided the punch and gave him a punch in the mouth knocking him out cold. My mom knew she was in love at that moment in time.

Then she surprised me with something I thought I would never hear from her. "Meghan, don't settle for any cock."

"Wh- What mom? Oh my God, did you just say that to me." I said as I know I must have turned fifty shades of red.

She chuckled, "Yes I did and for a good reason dear. You see Joe was my first, and I thought I was in love. Even when he hit me, it never wavered." She put her head up and looked upward for a second. "Then your dad came along, and he made me sing from the bedposts. If you get what I am saying dear."

I looked at her, and thought I knew, "I think I do mom, but I am still a virgin, I don't trust men. Ever since daddy, and well now Brad..." I trailed off, trying not to make any eye contact.

"Well, one day you will find your stallion, and I hope he fills you like your dad filled me." she said laughing now, but also having a tear in her eye. "I sure do miss him, and the things he used to do to me. You know your brother is built just like him, I saw him naked on accident. I was ashamed for a while, but I never told him." She looked over at me with a grin.

"Mom! Don't you think you are giving me a little too much information here?" I asked with a half smirk.

"Well, it is about time you know, your dad was huge, so is your brother, and it pisses Joe off still to this day that I chose your dad over him." She sat there, looking into space, her eyes twinkling.

"Mom, why did you get back with Joe?" I asked, breaking her out of the trance.

A look of fright came over her. Her skin became pale, "I had to because the police thought he killed your dad. He threatened he would hurt you and Brad If I didn't marry him so I would'nt have to testify against him."

A look of shock was on her face, "Mom, are you telling me that the police thought Joe killed daddy, and you still married him?"

"Please listen to me Meghan, it is more complicated than you think. Joe wasn't even in town when your father was shot. Besides Joe always loved me. He was there when I needed him Meghan."

I got up from the couch and looked at my mom, and I was going to make sure Joe paid when I was done, even if he was never found guilty of murdering my dad. My suspicions were on him as things started to click. I knew now I had to go to law school, so I packed and enrolled the following semester.

The next four years were a blur, but I graduated at the top of my class. Again, I was known as the nun on campus, as I never went on dates, or parties. All I did was study, and stare at that picture of my brother and me that was found in his room. My mind wondered what Brad was doing now days, what did he look like, was he seeing anyone. At that thought I became so jealous, and I felt a familiar tingle between my legs, like I always do when I think of Brad.

I slipped my hand to my panties and rubbed my pussy a little on the outside. Oh my gosh, I thought, I am drenched. I raised the photo, now the edges of me being worn, and I pulled my panties to one side, as I slid a finger through my slit, finding the wetness of my opening. My finger slid in and I let out a low moan, my eyes closed, and I thought I heard myself say, "Yes Brad." I kept sliding my finger in and out as I put the picture down and slid my other hand down to rub my clit. I quickened my strokes on my clit, feeling my release close. It was always like this whenever I thought about Brad. I would always cum hard and fast. I moaned his name again; with that I felt my body shake uncontrollably as the first wave hit me. I kept rubbing my clit, and quickly a second wave reached its climax. I screamed this time, waking me from my fantasy. I took my hands off my drenched pussy and took off my panties. I put them in the hamper and climbed into bed. "Maybe I can have sweet dreams little brother," I softly said, closing my eyes.

Six months after I graduated, I was working for the ADA's office, quickly becoming a star. I was their lead investigator at the time, and after I passed the bar, I was finally a prosecutor. I only tried small cases at first, and I had to live at home during this time, but was saving all my money, so I could buy a house for my mom and me. Joe knew my plans, and he hated me more than ever. Every day I would come home and ask my mom if she had heard from Brad, and of course she said no. I was worried about him, but at the same time, I was so pissed he at least couldn't call his mother.

One day, I got a call from Joe at the office, "Meghan, your mom and I need to see you, it's about Brad." Instantly I told my boss I needed to take the afternoon, and he said of course, especially knowing the history of my mom and Joe. I ran into the house and could not find mom as Joe grabbed me and told me Brad had died in a ship accident, and his body hadn't been recovered. Without thinking, I slapped him hard, ran upstairs to my mom's room. She was in a fetal position but looked to be sedated.

"What the hell did you do to mom?" I yelled, as I heard him coming up the stairs.

He came around the door frame, and stared, "She was hysterical, I had to give her something."

I didn't even acknowledge him and ran past him, went straight to my office and made some calls. I found out a merchant ship had sunk in the Mediterranean with no survivors, but no Brad Conner was on board. There was a Brad Joseph, which was my grandfather's middle name. I started to cry, feeling like there was no hope for me ever to be happy in life.

For the next three months, I became a zombie at home. When it came to work, I was a hellcat, making sure nobody got off lightly. I quickly became an Assistant District attorney for the city. There was another side of me though, and it was when I went home. I would cry as soon as I walked in, and it felt like I couldn't stop. There was so much loneliness, and I felt trapped. Everywhere I looked I seen Brad, and it pained me to think I would never see him again.

I had enough money to buy the old Miller ranch and two of their horses. I hadn't moved out there yet because of the events that unfolded. I had been fixing up the place, making it home for me and mom. She was ready to leave Joe by this time, as he was increasingly becoming more violent toward her, and making more sexual advances toward me.

One day he walked into my room, and I was crying. He came over to me and grabbed me by the shoulders and pushed me down on the bed. I screamed, kicking and punching at him, fearing that he was going to rape me. He kept coming at me, yelling at me to get over the little bastard. I heard footsteps come behind Joe, and he went limp suddenly. He fell on top of me, and my mom was behind him holding a rolling pin. We both rolled him off me and went downstairs. I told her she needed to call the cops and she of course didn't want to. So, I went outside, and went to the neighbor's house, asking to use his phone. I called the dispatcher to send someone to the house and told them what had happened.

At that moment, I heard a loud bang, which sounded like a car backfiring. My neighbor ran out of his house and over to my mom's. I looked out the window in time to see Joe try to shoot our neighbor through the door. I was hysterical, as crossed my neighbors' front yard, where I was subdued by someone behind me. I later found out it was a neighbor from across the street. The police arrived very quickly, and within minutes had Joe in handcuffs dragging him toward a patrol car. He looked at me sitting in the patrol car smiling. I stood up to go to my mom but was quickly asked to stay back. I knew what he had done at that moment in time.

The next year and five months were brutal, as I helped put that piece of shit away for life with no parole. The Prosecutor could not let me try him, or even sit second chair. He did let me investigate though, and I brought forward many witnesses. The jury only took three hours to determine their verdict. I was extremely happy he would never see the light of day, but I felt numb with all the death surrounding me. I felt as if I shut down mentally and emotionally. During the trial, I moved into the ranch, and sold most of my mom's stuff, except the pictures and some valuables. A new family came into town looking for a home, and I sold them her house for a reasonable price, which helped me make necessary improvements to the ranch. It was almost if I was an outsider taking care of another person's estate. I felt alone, miserable, but did not want to be with anyone because of the turmoil of people I loved leaving me.