Episode 19

D'ANGELO

In the dead of night, I awoke to find the laptop open, its screen displaying a selection of movies and series. Following a hamburger, fries, and soda dinner, I felt compelled to watch something while waiting for Megan.

James was always close by, and another bodyguard stood on the other side of the door. James had taken a seat in an armchair by a lit lamp and seemed to be sleeping.

Shutting the laptop, I resolved to stroll around the suite. Yet, the moment my feet touched the cold, black floor, James startled awake.

We locked eyes briefly before he began pacing, hand instinctively going to the revolver at his hip. He inspected the window, grazed the curtains with his fingers, checked other rooms, and upon returning, nodded relieved.

"What's wrong, James?" I queried, finally standing and struck by a sudden thirst.

"Just checking, ma'am."

"You thought there was someone here besides the two of us?"

"My job is to protect you. To keep you safe," he asserted seriously.

"But I woke up to you asleep!"

"I wasn’t asleep... just resting my eyes."

We exchanged another meaningful gaze...

"Alright... since all is well... may I get some water?"

"Of course, ma'am."

I walked over to the fridge under James' watchful eye. Living under constant stress like him must be terrible. James certainly looked worn out, having protected me nonstop since we arrived in Spain, while Megan was out to punish, torture, and kill Posner. She would be ruthless, and I was just wasting my time drinking water.

After grabbing a bottle of water and taking a sip, my stomach growled with hunger. The earlier meal provided temporary satiety, but now I needed more food.

Opening the fridge again, I found sodas and a box of pizza. There was a microwave in the kitchen, and I wasn’t in the mood for cold pizza, nor did I have the energy to whip up a midnight snack.

Thoughts of James lingered...

"James?" I called out, and he appeared in a flash, looking alarmed.

"Is everything alright, ma'am? What happened?" He surveyed the kitchen, even checking behind the refrigerator…

"It’s nothing, James."

"What happened?" He reached for his revolver, but I caught his hand and our eyes met.

James fixed his gaze into mine and released the revolver, but quickly took hold of my hand. He drew closer, and his actions puzzled me until I withdrew my hand and stepped back, observing his downturned head.

I decided to forget what he might have been attempting to do...

"What's the matter, ma'am?"

"Well, James… I'm hungry."

"Is that all?"

"Yes… since you’re here to protect me, guard me from hunger," I declared, arms crossed, and he couldn't suppress a smile that crept onto his face. "Come on, James!" I ordered.

His smile persisting, he approached the fridge...

I leaned against the counter to observe him managing the pizza, the glass plate, and the microwave.

James faced away from me the entire time, me forgetting my hunger as I watched.

Breaking the silence, I inquired...

"Do you have a girlfriend, James?"

He ignored me...

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

He shook his head, dismissing my presence...

"You realize if I tell Megan what happened here, she might kill you?" I teased...

James spun around, shocked...

"Please, ma'am, don't say that… I apologize… I…"

"What's going on?" Megan's voice cut through, suddenly present in the kitchen.

Her silence let her catch me talking with James… James turned crimson with fear and stood frozen...

"Just telling him he made a snack for me," I ad-libbed, detecting James' internal relief.

I really didn't understand his intentions during our prior near encounter...

"Is that right, James?" Megan closed in on me, hands on my waist, suspicion etched on her face.

"Yes, Armstrong."

"Should I believe that, Stella?" she asked, squeezing my waist, causing pain.

"If I said it… you should believe it!"

She scrutinized us...

"Leave, James!" she commanded, and he left the pizza on the counter as he exited.

Once we heard the door close, Megan pinned me to the wall, locking my wrists beside my hips, prompting another surge of pain which I couldn't suppress.

"Why are you up at this hour?"

"Hungry," I replied simply.

"You couldn't wait until morning?"

"Hunger doesn't keep time."

Megan clenched her jaw...

"What happened here? James isn't supposed to be chatting with you!" she accused jealously.

"I told you he was making a snack for me."

Megan tightened her grip on my wrists, causing me to bite my lip to muffle any noise, which only goaded her further.

"Bite your lips, Stella… do it!"

"No!"

She hardened her hold on me, compelling me to bite down intentionally.

"That's it… I like that," she exhaled near my mouth, causing me to close my eyes.

"You're hurting me, Megan."

Megan ceased the pressure and dove into kissing me, pressing me against the wall with the heat of her body.

I enticed her to release my wrists and, surrendering, she transferred her hands to my jaw, ensuring I was captive to our fervent kiss.

She paused, panting, as did I...

"I've missed your lips, Stella…"

She renewed her kiss, fingers trailing down to the delicate straps of my black nightgown, beginning their slow descent, never breaking from my lips.

"Say you've missed me, Stella." She murmured against me, and all I could do was blink open and closed, tempting her voracity.

Memories of pizza and my earlier hunger vanished as if by magic, overwhelmed by Megan's grip on my senses, leaving me bewildered.

"Please… ahmm… say you desire me as I do you," she implored, mouth descending toward one of my now-bared breasts.

"Megan…" I gasped, weakened by her kisses and licks.

"Yes, Stella?"

"Can we talk?"

"After we’re done here… you can tell me any story you want." She hungrily enveloped my nipple, the sound of satisfaction audible.

I closed my eyes at the sensation; she was persuading me to surrender.

"Did you kill Posner?" I suddenly inquired.

Megan stopped. Her blue eyes lifted, desire replaced with frustration.

"Did you?"

She readjusted my nightgown straps and stepped away, pacing with hands on her hips. Stopping, she announced...

"Yes… I killed him, and his death was one to be applauded."

I swallowed hard at the cold, malignant way she uttered those words. Internally, I managed to come to terms with the reality.

"Stella…"

"Okay," I said simply, masking my emotions.

"Is this what you wanted to discuss?"

"Yes..." I saw her jaw tighten, "but... I also wanted to ask why you were gone so long. I… waited until sleep completely overtook me."

I paused mere inches from her, sliding my hands into her suit pockets, which surprised her.

"I watched a movie but wished you were there with me."

"Stella?",

"As my wife…" I stated, ignoring her widened eyes, "you should watch movies with me and do fun things with me."

Megan seemed deaf to my words, lowering her gaze for a kiss; I turned away, receiving it on the cheek.

"You should go to bed now and rest…"

"I just wanted to do something nice with my wife."

I disregarded her...

"Megan..."

"I'm not entirely exhausted yet... you can help me use up the rest of my energy."

"Megan… we both need sleep now."

"I thought you were hungry," she said, and we glanced at the pizza on the counter, now probably cold.

"Hunger faded with your arrival."

"Your hunger vanished, and that pleases me, but now… satisfy my longing for you… I helped you, now it’s your turn to aid me!"

"How am I to assist you?"

"You know how!" Her words slurred with need.

"Megan… now I'm sleepy."

"But I'm not!"

"You know… this conversation is tiring me, goodnight, wife." I headed to bed, and Megan let me, following by holding my hand.

I persuaded her to sit on the bed beside me, then, desiring her happiness and rest, kneeled on the bed and began removing her suit jacket slowly, tossing it to the floor. Behind her, I unbuttoned her blouse; she gathered her hair into a bun, baring her neck which I kissed tenderly, feeling her shiver and savoring her enchanting scent.

Still kneeling, I set about massaging her shoulders, though I was no masseuse or adept at it. At my third movement on her left shoulder, she moaned. I touched it again, eliciting that husky sound.

"Stella… after the gunshot, this shoulder remained tender."

"I'm sorry?..."

"Don't apologize… you had no idea."

"Then…" I kissed her shoulder through the fabric, "I can stop if you prefer."

"No, don't halt… I want to feel your touch," she stated, turning to me, our eyes meeting...

That deep look led to me granting myself the liberty of a slow, lingering kiss, allowing her to savor my lips for a moment, a unique and captivating kiss...

"This time… I'll be gentle," I whispered in her ear. I would make her relaxed with a careful massage.

"Alright."

I resumed touching her shoulders with slow, measured strokes, conserving my strength, until I noticed her languid body slumping against me. I supported her with some effort, sliding out from under her as she collapsed onto the mattress. Megan had fallen asleep to the compassion and persistence of my touch, no doubt drained by her confrontation with Posner.

Rising from the bed, I removed her shoes, leaving her in black socks, rummaged her pockets to increase her comfort, finding a key. It was the suite door's key, evident by the identical triangular emblem.

Fleeing crossed my mind, and impulsively, I headed for the door, fitting the key and turning it quietly. As I rotated the key and glanced back at the bed, a pang went through my heart.

Megan lay there, vulnerable in slumber, trusting me implicitly.

I began to open the door quietly, only to confront a vigilant guard outside, as immovable as stone by the door. Abandoning escape, not because of him, but because I lacked the will to step beyond the threshold.

I closed the door and gazed at the woman on the bed. As I approached her, recognition dawned that my heart and I couldn't flee. It reacted with an agony that eased into a smile for Megan Armstrong upon closer contemplation.

Back at the bed, after repositioning her legs comfortably, I covered us both and nestled into her embrace.

To discern the truth about my heart's message to my mind, I decided to fall asleep wrapped in her arms, to validate any feelings I harbored for her.

Minutes ticked by in her proximity, and her murmured words in slumber brought a foolish grin to my face.

"I love you, Stella D'Angelo."

She confessed her love...

I snuggled closer, head nestled below her chin, her quiet breath warming my forehead.

The woman known for cruelty due to a tormented past, one I hadn't previously fathomed, loved me.

Megan Armstrong loved me. She declared it.

Comforted, tucked securely beneath her chin, I reconciled the enigmatic assurances of my heart.

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