Authors note; This chapter as well as the next couple will be shorter than some of my recent ones (trying to stay within 3 pages)but will take a little while to go into the erotic encounters. This will occur in the first few chapters of part three as I will be using conversations and some non sexual flashbacks to set up quite a few things which will affect Megan's decision involving her brother. For those of you who enjoyed Lex Talionis and that style of writing which was a bit more "novel like". Then you should enjoy the build up of the next few chapters as I use them to get a glimpse of the present day Mark and how is life is not as perfect as it seems and how he continues to protect Megan from her past. As always thank you for reading.Lovecraft68
*
I opened my eyes as those last words went through my mind; promising my brother that I would never leave him. Eight months later I would move to Chicago to start a new life; one that turned out to be everything I wanted it to be, but didn't include him. Once again leaving Mark to miss the big sister he had waited so long to get back, and, although it had been for a good reason, had left him. With a sigh I rolled over and checked the time on my phone; seven thirty. Giving up on falling back to sleep at this point I once again called Mark and listened to it go to voicemail.
I didn't bother leaving a message this time, Mark usually had court on Mondays so he would have to be done at the gym by eight, I would call back then and see if I could meet him there for a quick cup of coffee, just to make sure he was okay. Getting up, I grabbed my cigarettes and, going over to the old rocking chair that was near the window, sat down. Stretching my long legs out I put my feet up on the windowsill and, lighting a cigarette, went back to the last thought of my leaving my brother for Chicago.
Originally when Betty had asked me about moving down there with her I had told her no. I understood why she was doing it, for a fresh start in a place where no one knew her and she wasn't constantly reminded of her past indiscretions. The difference for me however was that unlike Betty, whose family lived on the west coast and she barely saw, I had a brother and parents who had lost enough time with me and I certainly didn't want to take anymore away from them. Not to mention the fact that, although I had just made a year sober, they would worry sick about me if they couldn't see me all the time. Two weeks before Betty was to move something happened that had changed my mind, an event that went a little beyond just seeing a place where I used to get fucked up and feeling bad about it.
I had taken Mom grocery shopping and, while she was checking out, went outside to have a cigarette. While I was standing there smoking I heard a guy's voice behind me say excuse me, when I turned around saw two guys around my age standing there. One of them asked me what my name was and I asked why they wanted to know. At that the other guy grinned and said they knew me and was surprised I didn't recognize them. I instantly began to feel a little uncomfortable, but to them I simply shrugged and said if they knew me then they would know my name.
The first guy laughed and said that we had never gotten on the first name basis, but maybe the name Raven would ring a bell. That uncomfortable feeling immediately turned into a sick feeling in my stomach; Raven was the name I had gone by when I had worked some of the local strip clubs. Still trying to avoid any drama I told them they had me mixed up with someone else. It was summer time and I was wearing a tank top and, when I had said that, the second guy smiled and, pointing at my Medusa tattoo, said that he doubted there was another tall, hot brunette with the same tattoo.
Before I could say anything else the first guy smirked and told me it was too bad I didn't remember them because I had taken very good care of both of them at a bachelor party. The other guy laughed and told his friend that I had been pretty wasted, and besides, for a girl like me they probably all blurred together anyways. At that I turned my back to them but they came around and one of them asked if I was still in business. I told him no, that was a long time ago. With a laugh he asked me if I was sure, because he had a hundred dollars, and that was all it took last time.
I could feel myself blushing and, was ready to walk away, when Mom came out of the store with the carriage and, seeing the look on my face, asked if I was okay and who were my friends. One of the guys gave me an evil smirk and my stomach turned as I waited for him to say something terrible. Fortunately for me, the other guy had some decency and, after elbowing his friend, simply told my mother that they had known me from way back and just stopped to say hi. As they walked away the other one winked at me and told me it was good seeing me again. Mom could tell something was wrong and finally, when we got home, I told her I knew them from the "bad days" as she always referred to them and they were busting my balls. Mom, of course, felt terrible but had also made the remark that it was a good thing it was her that was there and not Mark. My brother would have seen it for what it was and he'd have started and, most likely, finished a fight. A week later I called Mark over to my folk's house and told them I was moving to Chicago with Betty.
I shook my head as I knew that none of them had wanted me to leave, but I had to do what was best for me. It was ironic, because as an addict I had exhibited nothing but selfish behavior, and now, even as a recovering addict, I still had to act selfishly. For me, and others like me, every decision had to be what was best for me based on how it could affect my recovery. If something made me uncomfortable or stressed me too badly I could not just "suck it up" as some people would say and deal with it. No, I had to know when to back away, lest I allow myself to fall into situations that were no longer mine, so to speak. In the end my family understood and didn't make too much of a fuss over it. The fact that Mark knew some people down there made my parents feel a little better and, five years later, things really couldn't have worked out better for me down there. Of course I thought, as I licked my fingers and pinched my cigarette out, the operative word there as usual was "me".
No that wasn't necessarily true, I hadn't done it just for myself; my family had benefited from it as well. I truly believe to this day that, had I stayed in Rhode Island, I might have slipped back; once again tripped up by guilt and old pain, but there were none of those melancholy memories in Chicago. Down there all people knew was that I had moved in from out of state, as opposed to up here where everyone that knew me, knew my past. Besides, at this point, the folks were used to it and I loved having my own life, unfortunately it seemed Mark had missed me more than I had thought. At that I started to wonder, is it possible he didn't love me and just missed me? No, what I felt Saturday night from my brother was his using his body to give me his heart.
I stopped that train of thought, I had already had my mind spinning once and beating a dead horse wasn't going to get me anywhere. In the past I had learned that if I let things go the answers would come on their own, so for now I would go with that. Getting up I walked back over to the phone and saw it was a few minutes after eight. I dialed Mark again and this time when he didn't answer I began to worry. Hanging up I called his office, figuring maybe he had gone in early. It was only a little after eight but Mark's assistant, Paula, started early in case anyone who Mark was supposed to have in court called with any problems.
Paula answered and, after I told her who I was, and made a couple of minutes of small talk, asked if Mark was there. After Paula told me he wasn't I asked if she could tell me when his first court appearance was. Paula told me that Mark was not on the calendar all week, and had told her to leave his schedule open until noon for the next few days. At this point I hung up, and decided to just go to his apartment. Going over to my bag I grabbed a short denim skirt and a tank top along with a lace turquoise bra and matching thong.
Entering the bathroom, I stripped off the ridiculously cute pink nightshirt I'd worn to bed, and turned the water on, only to have nothing come out. I tried the cold water then realized that Mom had said they hadn't been using it and Dad probably had forgotten to turn the water valve on. Rolling my eyes I put the shirt back on and, grabbing the clothes, also stopped to get my purse and a pair of blue sandals and headed downstairs to use the other bathroom. I entered the kitchen to find Mom sitting at the table looking through some boxes. As I got closer to her I saw that they were old photo albums and I knew a trip down memory lane would be coming soon.
"Morning Mom." I said leaning over and kissing her on top of her head.
"Hey honey, you're up early. Want a cup of coffee?"
"Actually I was going to take a shower first then..." I started but Mom pointed in the direction of the bathroom.
"You're father's in there." Mom looked at me and asked. "What's wrong with..." She laughed. "Mr. fix it didn't turn the water on did he?"
"Nope." I said then putting my clothes on the table sat down across from her.
"Megan please," Mom said nodding towards my clothes. "You're father doesn't need to see that, no matter how old you are."
I looked down and saw that the thong was on top of the pile and quickly tucked it under the skirt. I laughed as she was absolutely right, Dad would not react well.
"Oh come on Mom," I said. "That could be fun, especially if I told him Laura bought it for me."
"Please dear, don't tease your father with that, you know he thinks it's a sin."
I shrugged and nodded, Dad had never understood my attraction to women, and always got excited when there was a new guy in the picture. I smiled at my mother, as she began looking through a shoe box full of old papers. Mom never minded one bit and had told me after her last visit to Chicago how much she liked Laura, and how happy we looked together.
"I'm glad you never cared." I told her.
"Megan, the only thing I care about is my kids being happy, anyone who makes the two of you happy, will make me happy too."
Mom had said it in an offhand way as she continued to dig through the box, but the effect of her comment on me was overwhelming. It really was all Mom cared about, anything I wanted as long as I was healthy and happy was fine with her. I was also touched by her saying kids; Mom considered Mark her son as much as I was her daughter, on that note I needed to make sure Mark saw Mom before I left. Whatever was going on between him and Dad should have nothing to do with him seeing the woman who had always loved him as her own.
"I love you Mom." I said quietly.
