6 comments/ 11247 views/ 22 favorites Rod's Quest Ch. 02 By: GrandTeton Day 8 Charlie and Behan were lounging in their hotel room. "Miss Amy is home with your family, for now at least, sir. There was a brief attempt to interfere which I frustrated." "Thank you, Behan. I know that the children are not your family, and I very much appreciate that you are looking out for them in ways I can't." "Not at all, sir. I strongly approve of the courage shown by all of them. I should want my children to be much the same as these three. Now that they have come to my attention, I very much wish them to succeed. I am quite willing to put in whatever time and effort may be necessary to help them do that." "Speaking of time and effort, Behan, what progress have you made in identifying the attackers, their motives, and any future threat that may come from them? I promised June there would be an end to this." "As did I, sir, and Miss Amy as well. My inquiries have produced the following results, sir. "There were five attackers. It is certain that there were no more. Despite Miss Joan's fears, there is no evidence whatever that the attack was other than random. She was, I believe, quite correct that there is, or more correctly, was, a high risk of follow up, by or on behalf of the attackers, or the survivors, sir. I shall explore that with you in a moment. "The survivors appear to believe that if they cannot be identified by their victims that there is no possibility of conviction. That is quite incorrect, of course, but their beliefs, not facts, govern their future action. Additionally there was the possibility that someone connected to the person who died will seek revenge. "Of the five, the death of Carl Jaggerfeld created the greatest possibility of danger for the young master. His family has connections to the underworld, which has a presence even here. However, the rulers of the underworld tend to be far more realistic than they are painted. "In dealing with this possibility, I was assisted by the actions of the police themselves. There is no question but that Master Rod killed the attacker who had raped Amy. None. However, the coroner insisted the death was accidental, caused by a forceful intersection with a tree when Miss Amy threw him off her. He suggested it was a classic case of hysterical strength. There is, of course, no possibility that this was a correct diagnosis. The police are aware of this. However, they are convinced that it is the right diagnosis. They will not bend. Nor, from the point of view of Master Rod, should they. "I have determined that the coroner is normally employed at a clinic in the poorer section of town. They do a great deal of charity work. They have a very good reputation for the quality of their work and for their empathy with the community they serve. I have arranged a significant donation towards their work. Absolutely untraceable, of course, and large enough to be of real help without being so large as to attract undue attention. I trust that is satisfactory, sir?" "Very much so. Precisely the step I would have requested." "Now the parents of this Carl Jaggerfeld suspect that either Rod or Amy killed their son. They have requested their next above in the underworld to which he, at least, is attached to 'count coup', I believe the expression is, on behalf of his underling. That is how the mutual relationship is seen by some of them at the lower levels of the organization. "The reaction, I understand, was lukewarm. The next above totally refused to have anything to do with revenge upon Amy. He explained very forcibly that the machismo of their society could not withstand revenge upon a young woman who looked like she would blow away in the wind. They did not war upon women in any case. Mr. Jaggerfeld was advised that should it appear that any action at all had been taken against Miss Amy that he would be trying to walk across the lake in concrete shoes. He understood. "At some later time Mr. Jaggerfeld was advised that no action would or could be taken against Master Rod. Apparently the young master was seen as a hero by too many people. Any action against him would be seen to be in defence of rapists, stupid rapists at that, which would cause serious harm to the organization's public image. "I was quite pleased with this result of my discussion with the head of the organization, sir. I had mentioned to him the reasons for not pursuing Master Rod. It helped that he has two daughters. Of course, I also mentioned that it would be a casus belli, and we would utterly destroy him and his organization. I mentioned Spinoza in Buffalo, which after all was only a matter of business. He understood that it was your family matter. He will not allow his organization or its people to become involved." "That's the most dangerous one, you say. How about the others?" "The others are all sons of reasonably prosperous citizens. They were bored and stupid even though they were all students at the university. None were ritually criminal, though all had had at least one brush with the law. Somewhat surprisingly, they did not tend to group together. "Number two is Robert Ingwald. He was the one that Miss June incapacitated. He appears to be in absolute terror that any of the three might come upon him and deprive him of life, or, more realistically, of the ability to procreate. He is not a problem and will not become one. He will have enough trouble with his parents, who are totally appalled by his actions. He had a younger sister, sir, who moved out rather than stay under the same roof with him. I have taken steps to ensure she does not suffer as a result. "Excellent." "Number three is George Farnham. He was the one who actually raped Miss June. He is the one who appears most convinced that if Master Rod, Miss June and Miss Amy were all to have fatal accidents in the near future, then the case against him would disintegrate and he would go free. He has been given to understand that if any such accident were to take place, he would be under suspicion. It was made clear to him that there are those who act on suspicion even in the absence of proof, and that they tend to impose the death penalty even though it is illegal in this jurisdiction. These people, he was told, are already inclined to act against him since he is the only surviving actual rapist. "He has taken that information to heart and has instructed his lawyer to commence discussions for a plea bargain. Those discussions will fail, I think. The prosecutor has a young sister. He is quite vengeful. Mr. Farnham does not, in any case, have access to the resources that would accomplish his goal. I have taken steps to ensure that he will not, in any event, ever obtain access to those resources. The example of the late Mr. Spinoza is serving to keep a good many heads down, sir." "Very good, Behan." "Number four is James Wyatt. He is the one Miss June felled as he tried to escape. He has been dealt with similarly, with acceptable results. I believe he will insist on a trial in the hopes that he will not receive the same punishment given that he did not actually rape anyone. I gather there is some possibility that he is correct. The law concerning accessories does seem very clear, however, that he should suffer an equivalent punishment. The prosecutor certainly thinks so. "Number five, Jason Fleet, intends to rely on the same position as Mr. Wyatt. He has no intention of causing further harm to anyone. He is convinced, rightly, that further harm would not advance his case and would only make things worse for him. He also appears to be quite fearful of Master Rod's vengeance." "Thank you, Behan. It seems clear that you have removed any danger to the three children - rather, I must admit, the young adults. Our promises to June and Amy will be fulfilled without the need for further action. I truly appreciate your care in this matter. These young adults are very precious to me." "And to me, sir, I find." "Tell me Behan, have you ever had anyone drop into your life and become a child for whom you might one day be required to lay down your life? And be happy to do so if necessary to save them?" "I assume you refer to Miss Amy. sir. To answer the question, sir, I have just had that happen with respect to three young people. It is a strange feeling, sir, but a pleasant one." "Damned queer, I think, but you are quite correct, it is pleasurable. "Now, I must leave you, shortly. I have an engagement, with Miss Joan as a matter of fact. I am reassured that I will be able to advise her that although her fears did have a foundation, that foundation has been eroded, shall we say, and our three young adults will not be in any danger as a result." Charlie was still upset by the attack and his helplessness to deal with its worst consequences for Rod and June and Amy. He had taken steps: he had come as soon as it was possible, as soon as he knew, he'd tried to help build a support structure, he'd removed other dangers. But he knew the emotional healing they needed couldn't come from him. He would have to leave soon in any event. Too many irons in the fire. Too many other people relying upon him. He couldn't justify hanging around the children once he knew they were safe, much as he wanted to. "Joan will want me to extend her thanks, Behan, as I am sure you are aware, and, of course, I am also very grateful for your care in this matter. "Since things are reasonably settled here for now, apart from the emotional damage which I am ill-equipped to deal with, I will be off in the morning. I would be obliged if you could find things to do in this part of the world for the next three months or so, so as not to be too far away in the event our young adults have needs." "Certainly, sir. Perhaps you have not considered, sir, that others of your employees may regard this attack, as I do, as the ultimate in despicable, cowardly action. I have taken such steps as were required. They may consider more drastic action appropriate. Had I not known your wishes, I should have done so myself." "Your concern is justified. The word has been passed to allow the law to take its course, unless you or I direct otherwise. Now, I'm off on a date." ********** Charlie beamed as he joined Joan at the swanky restaurant. For a change, she was out of uniform. Her perfect legs, showcased by her just above the knee dark blue cocktail dress, attracted his glance first. His eye gradually climbed, up past her waist, no longer girl-like after two children, but still slim. His gaze moving up came to her jutting breasts, not mammoth pillows but still a respectable handful, as he'd found again and again over the years. Then her broad shoulders, her fine neck, ending his journey with the face he'd kill for. Even at forty-five, with all the effort it took to achieve success in a man's world career and after two children, and, he admitted, the cares he imposed on her, she was a fine figure of a woman. Yet it was the character in her face that drew him in, that continued to draw him back to her. It did not matter how many other women had shown they would settle down with him given half a chance. Joan didn't give them a chance, whether she knew it or not. The face was pretty enough. It had reasonably even features. There was a dusting of freckles, fading now as she aged. Her light blue eyes were agreeable, but they flashed and sparkled with the light that was in her, sometimes fey and sometimes angry. He felt he could drown in those eyes. She had a broad forehead and a nose with character. Her mouth, ah her mouth. Her mouth was of the usual dimensions, maybe a little on the larger side of average. Her lips were neither too thick nor too thin. Oh, how they could kiss! Her mouth was always happy. She grinned, she smiled, she beamed, she smirked. She was always happy, pleased, amused, delighted. Charlie was completely taken aback by the attack, random as it was. Two of the victims were his children, perhaps all three, now, and he had not been there for them when they needed him most. The absolute worst part of that attack, though, for Charlie, was that it had taken the smile from Joan's lips. He still loved this grim and vengeful woman. But he wished she would smile again. "Hello, beautiful." "Charlie, still full of the old smarm." A ghost of a smile twitched on her lips. He'd have to try harder. But at least the seed was there. ********** After an excellent meal and a glass of wine, Joan had mellowed at least a little. The grim valkyrie was still there, but pushed more into the background. Charlie had been able to reassure her about the children - dammit, they were her children, two of blood and spirit and one of spirit - and her relief was obvious. She knew and trusted Behan as much as Charlie did. If he said there was no risk, then none existed. Joan let the occasional smile cross her lips. After all, Charlie was just so charming. And Charlie tried very hard to get those smiles, a little grin, a brief giggle. With luck she was coming back to life. She was also coming back to him. But then, she never really went away. Joan refused dessert, and an aperitif. The chief couldn't get drunk, or even a little high. "Would you like to come up and see my etchings?" Charlie leered. "Yeah, have you got any new ones I haven't seen before?" "Perhaps." Joan leaned into him. Their kiss was familiar territory, but always exciting. She always saw Charlie at least twice a year - two children, two birthdays. She was true to him in her way. There had been no other men, or women, in her life since they had separated. She didn't think the kids knew they had never divorced. He had offered, if she wanted, but she didn't want. He could certainly have proceeded without her consent after all these years, but he preferred to stay married to her. Joan was not so starry eyed as to believe that he was true to her, but there was never another woman even mentioned when they were together. They clung tightly to each other as they approached the door to Charlie's suite. "Are we going to shock Behan?" Joan joked. "Two answers," Charlie said. "One, neither you nor I have ever managed to shock Behan, and at times we tried pretty hard. Two, Behan has already gone to his next assignment. He will stay within reach for the next several weeks, on call for you or our children - since when did I have three children? Feels good, though. I don't remember conceiving that third one." Charlie slid the keycard into the door. He swept the door open, inviting her to enter his parlour. Joan giggled. She wondered whether he thought he was the spider. She thought he'd make a good fly. Charlie kicked the door closed as Joan went for his shirt buttons. He dropped his jacket on the floor and reached for the zipper to her dress. The hook and eye at the top defied him momentarily, then he flipped it apart and drew the zipper slowly down. There was another hook and eye at her waist. This time he had the trick of it. He pulled the zipper the rest of the way out onto the tops of her buttocks. He just let his hand roam over the wonderful curves. He jumped when Joan pulled his shirt down off his shoulders and arms. Was he going to lose the unofficial race to get the other nude fastest? She reached for his belt buckle. He eased her dress down over her shoulders and arms. He had been wanting to get to this part all evening. He hadn't been able to figure out how she had made a dress with a high neckline so incredibly sexy. As he eased the dress down Joan's bra-enclosed breasts came into sight. Oho, it was the black bra. Every time they made love, Joan wore the black bra. Maybe all her bras were black. For sure, every time he saw her they made love. He eased her dress over her hips. It fell to the floor, accompanied by his own trousers. He unfastened her bra. Her breasts were high and proud. Her nipples were erect. He stopped to taste them. "Shoes and socks don't count. I win again." Joan teased. She still wore the sheer black panties she'd dug out when Charlie had called to arrange their date. Charlie's underwear was somewhere on the floor and she held his penis in her hand. She was idly stroking his erection as she watched his reaction. Charlie seemed as interested as ever. Heavens, forty-five and she was still making her man hard just from looking. She felt her panties being swept down. Joan shrugged off her shoes. She hadn't worn stockings. She was naked in front of this almost stranger, who was her husband. Actually, by this time they were naked together. They clutched each other. "First time on the rug?" Charlie asked. "OK, the next time in the bed, the time after that in the shower . . . ." "Are you trying to kill me, woman?" he laughed. "I've been trying for years. Haven't had any sign of success, yet, but it sure is fun trying!" "Yes, it certainly is." The two grappled happily. Charlie's tongue gravitated to Joan's nipples. Each lick and suckle sent waves of passion through her. She held his head close to her chest. One hand went back to encouraging his erection, stroking, fingertips touching, a flick of his slit, running her nails lightly along the length of him. His hands caressed her firm bum. He stroked over all of it, marvelling once more at its smoothness. This wonderful woman was his again, at least for tonight. He dropped to the carpet, pulling her down on top of him. He fondled her breasts as he guided himself to her centre. "Oh, Charlie, that feels so good. I know it's only been a few weeks, but it feels like it's been forever." She was moist and welcoming. Charlie thrust into her gently but firmly, bottoming out after three pushes when he found no dryness, no restriction. He proceeded to thrust strongly while she pushed down, adding a little rotary motion to increase her contact. Both of them sped up. He was toying with her nipples and felt her move her hands to flick life into his nipples as well. She leaned over to kiss him and hammer down on him. He pushed back. She straightened then to add the full force of gravity to her movements. She thrust harder and he felt he was being sucked in deeper and deeper. Her breathing sped up. She was on the verge, he could tell. Then his orgasm overcame him and he shot deep into her private parts. Feeling his semen spurt triggered her own orgasm, and she climaxed with him. She screamed her pleasure. When they'd both come down, she kissed him, "Well, the earth moved for me, darling. I do love you, you know." "And I love you, my sweet. You are not a mote less precious to me than when we created Roddie. You are also no less sexy and you make love even better. Joanie, loving you has been the best thing that ever happened to me in a life that's been particularly blessed. Even if we can't stand to live with each other." "Shall we proceed to the bedroom, Galahad?" Later, "We should clean up a little, my sweet. I seem to have semen and vaginal juices all over me, and so do you, not just inside where they belong. I'll start the shower, shall I?" After the shower they curled up around each other in bed and dozed off. Charlie woke up about 6:00. "I'm afraid, my sweet, you may have children who will be shocked by you. I suppose," he added sadly, "you have to get home to them." "Not before I tell you goodbye the best way, Charlie. One that will keep you coming back." After their once-more sated bodies started to relax Joan said yes, she had to go now. "So do I, sweetheart. You have been incredibly successful, though. I will be coming back. Joan, in spite of the fact that this time we have been brought together by a tragedy that dwarfs any of the things I used to worry about, I have enjoyed my time with you beyond describing. Please, please remember, if there is anything I can do for you, or any of my three children," he gave her a wry smile, "be sure to ask. I can't be there for them enough. Please let me do what I can." Rod's Quest Ch. 02 "I'll do that. Charlie, even though June and Amy share a birthday it doesn't mean you don't have to show up an extra time now for your third child." By damn, the woman was flirting. What a grand development. "No, indeed. I shall include it in my plans. And we shall have to experiment to see whether I can recollect her conception the way I do the others." "Charlie, I have to go. I don't want to. I really don't want to. Thank you for being here for me, for all of us. I love you," and she was out the door. ********** Rod had stayed up for his mother while June and Amy slept. He lay down on the couch to rest his eyes a moment. He awoke as his mother let herself into the house. What the hell, it was six - no, eight o'clock in the morning. Surely that wasn't something sheer in black lace hanging out of her coat pocket. Where had she been? What had she been doing? Where had that dress come from? Joan was still flushed and mussed, and smiling. "Just where have you been, young woman? What have you been doing and with whom?" Rod almost sounded serious, even to himself. Joan just laughed. She hadn't thought she would ever laugh again. Bless the boy, and bless Charlie, too. "I need a shower and then bed. I have to get some sleep. Wake me up about 12:30." ********** Day 12 Amy had been at the Ransom home for a week. She had regained about half of the weight that she had lost, and looked less like a medical school teaching skeleton. She was still wan and pale, still quite lifeless. She did not sleep well. She still clung to Rod or June, sometimes even Joan, as if she were drowning. She refused to see anyone else. By this time, though, her mother was frantic. She had come once and complained that Amy had gone to the Ransom household rather than to her own home. What would people think? Was she trying to make her mother look bad? Amy had asked her to leave after a couple of minutes. When she refused to go, Amy simply collapsed. As far as her mother knew, she had fainted dead away. June, who had stayed with Amy during the visit, at Amy's request, simply told Amy's mother, "She's really too weak to deal with your problems, Mrs. Loosier. Give her a little more time with us before you press her. She hasn't been out of the hospital a week, yet." Amy's mother had objected, but June was firm. "She's too weak to move. Just a few more days so she can recover enough strength to move and be less of a burden on you. There are three of us here to share watching over her. At your home there is really only you since your husband is gone so much." Now, though, Amy had been out of hospital for a week. June bitterly regretted the implied promise she had made. Rod was upset, but had no way to object. Amy was too weak to reject her mother's importuning. It was simpler for her to give in. She agreed to go home with her mother. Rod once again carried Amy down to a car. This time she was belted securely into the front passenger seat. Her bundle of clothes that had come from her house with her mother on her first visit was slung into the back. Mrs. Loosier paid no attention to Amy as Rod and June settled her in. "Will you need help getting her out?" Rod offered. "No, my husband is home." Yet he had not thought enough of his stepdaughter to come along to pick her up. June and Rod were both crying as they walked back to their own house. "It's so wrong, Roddie. Amy was improving. Now, she's gone where there doesn't seem to be any love for her at all." Roddie hugged her. "There's nothing we can do about that part of it," he said. "Keep in mind, though, that she should be strong enough in a few more days to get about a bit. Just make sure she knows she's always welcome here. "How?" "Go visit her, of course. You always did before." "Thanks, Roddie. You're a brick. There you are, strong and solid for both of us, the foundation we can tie our wretched lives to. I bet you hurt, too, though." "June, your lives aren't wretched, or at least don't have to be. We all have to be strong for each other. Let's just concentrate on that." It was that night that the nightmares first hit. "Damn Damn Damn . . . Damn." The last word louder and more agonized as Joan ran to her son's room. His nightmare continued to grip him and he fell into tears. Joan hugged her son tightly. "It's all right, Rod, I'm here, it's OK, it's all right." "No, I was too late, I was too late, I failed . . . ." "You did what you could, son. It wasn't your fault, not your fault. Without you they'd be dead now." Rod didn't settle. He continued to writhe, to cry, to struggle. June was awakened. Half asleep she stumbled into Rod's room where he and his mother were curled up together. She slid into bed on the other side, hugging him just as tightly. "Roddie, I'm OK. I'm all right. I'm here for you. Let's snuggle up and go to sleep so we can be strong tomorrow." Whatever she said or did settled him down in some way his mother could not reach. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that his sister had not been killed, but was there for him. Perhaps it was the reminder that he had to be strong, the way the doctor had said, if there was to be a cure for either girl. Joan only knew that June was better at this than she could be. ********** Day 13 The next night was like a replay in a different setting. "Rod, help. Get off me you lout. Oh AMY!" The last word louder and more agonized as Joan ran to her daughter's room. Her nightmare continued to grip her and she fell into tears. Joan hugged her daughter tightly. "It's all right, June, I'm here, it's OK, it's all right." June didn't settle. She continued to writhe, to cry, to struggle. Rod was awakened. Half asleep he stumbled into June's room where she and her mother were curled up together. He slid into bed on the other side, hugging her just as tightly. "June, you're OK. You're all right. I'm here for you. Let's snuggle up and go to sleep so we can be strong tomorrow." Whatever he said or did settled her down in some way her mother could not reach. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that her brother was there for her. Perhaps it was the reminder that she had to be strong. Joan only knew that Rod was better at this than she could be. She was torn between sorrow at not being able to solve her children's problems and hope that they were helping each other so much. What this could lead to she wasn't sure. Sufficient unto the day, she thought. Time enough to worry later. Right now she just had to be glad something worked. ********** Day 47 Rod stumbled downstairs, weary still after a sleep broken by the repeating nightmare. June had eventually joined him and allowed him a few brief hours of uneasy rest in her comforting presence. In the sunroom low voices murmured. June and Amy were talking. Once again Amy had left her home early, seeking solace in the company of the other survivors of the attack. She was there every morning these days. He was glad to see her. Not surprisingly, Amy was crying again. How someone so small could hold so much water Rod couldn't guess. It was scarcely unusual. Amy's entire world had been destroyed. Her hopes, aims, trusts were all gone. She was where he and June would have been if they had not had each other, and their mother. Amy had stayed in the hospital several days longer than June. She'd been hurt more. She hadn't had the same reserves to deal with the trauma. Psychologically her trauma had been far worse. Sometimes it seemed like she didn't want to get better. As a girl, she had been protected more from life's vicissitudes. She had never engaged in team sports, as June had. Her mother was fiercely protective, an entirely different role model from Mom the Cop. "Life's a bitch. Deal with it." Amy had been forced to drop out of university. She had a few credits from first term, but lost everything from second term. The university had tried to be accommodating but Amy simply had not had the reserves to take advantage of the relaxation of the rules she was being allowed. Maybe later, Rod hoped. He was sure having nothing to do and no plans and maybe no future wasn't helping her. Amy had been a virgin. She'd been saving herself, Rod thought, maybe even for him. Now she was spoiled, used, unclean. Apparently that was what her mother kept telling her, though Rod could not see how that could be. Yes, you get unclean when you fall into filth, even if it is none of your doing. You get out, clean up, get on with your life and are as good (or bad) a person as before. Not, perhaps, when someone you used to love and respect tells you repeatedly that you can never be clean again. Rod could not imagine how someone could do that to another person. He did not realize the harm people wracked by unreasonable guilt could cause. He might have gone down the same road if his mother hadn't snapped him out of it. "Roddie," she'd said. "Who the hell elected you God? Nobody else could have done any more than you did. Stop pissing and puling about what a shit you are and get out there and be strong. That's how to help your sister and Amy. Give them a strong shoulder to lean on, and a strong hand to help." He had at least tried. It was only in the nights that his ghosts came back to haunt him. Trust, too, was going for Amy. Amy had always counted on her mother. Her father was long gone. Her stepfather was no help and never had been. Her mother had always had to be there for her, and she had been. Every scraped knee or sprained ankle had seen her rush to her daughter's side, comforting and teaching how to avoid the next accident. Now, for some reason, she had trashed Amy, to her face and behind her back. She blamed Amy for a perceived loss of standing in the community. She seemed to hate her and yet could not let her go. Rod expected to see Amy's mother coming for her any minute now. Rod was getting breakfast together and offered to get something for the girls. They accepted with alacrity. When, a few minutes later, Rod took the food and drink out to them, June asked him to join them. "Roddie, this is going all to hell again. Tell him, Amy." An almost inaudible squeak "I'm pregnant, Roddie." Yeah, it had all gone to hell in a hurry. At least the sick bastard hadn't had AIDS. The hospital had assured them of that. One violation, no matter how violent, was bad enough. Now, though, there would be a continuing violation, maybe even a lifetime of it. Weren't there solutions, though? Amy should not have to live with this. A child conceived in love was one thing. It was a far cry from one conceived in hatred and violence and non-consent and evil. "What do you want to do, Amy?" For a time Rod thought she hadn't heard. "I want to have an abortion," she finally breathed. "That's not my baby in there, it's that rapist's." A dead rapist's, Rod thought, but he hadn't told either woman about the dead man yet. "And . . .?" Rod prompted. "Mom won't help me. She says it's murder and she won't let me. She promised to lock me in if I made any effort to get it done myself." "Amy, you're of age, an adult," June intervened. "What matters is what you want. She can't keep you from doing what you want about this. If you carry this baby to term, it will probably kill both you and the baby. It won't be a good time. It will be hell. We'll help. Mom will help. What do you want us to do?" "Mother just says she'll do whatever it takes to stop me and anyone who tries to help me. I can't ask anyone to put their heads into that buzz saw." "You don't think that will stop us, do you?" The doorbell rang. As Rod had suspected, it was Amy's mother. "Rod, June," she nodded, barely polite. "Come home, Amy. We have chores to do and a house to clean. I don't know why you're off so early every morning, making me come after you day after day. I'd think you'd want to forget that awful night, not dwell on it with these two. I think you're going to have to stay home more." "You could call, mother. I would come. See you later, June, Rod." And Amy was gone. "Rod, we have to help. We can't let that bag totally destroy Amy's entire life. How can we help? What can we do?" Helpless was really rare for June. Rod thought he knew at least some of what might be done. First call: "Mom, I'm sorry to bug you at work, but we, me and June and you, have to talk about Amy, fast. Can't you sneak out for a half hour right now? ...Mom, you're the chief...Okay, see you in a bit." "June, we'd better get the spare room ready for Amy again." "I don't think so, Rod. No, no, I agree she'll have to come stay with us. A week at least. That's if we can't convince her to stay, period. Her home's no good for her now. Right now she should share my room. The bed's big enough for two - you already know that." She smirked horribly. "She'll need the company. I don't want her to be without someone there with her any time at all. This is going to be very hard on her. Maybe it will help with my nightmares, too. Get me focussed off myself for a change." Rod agreed. It made good sense. Not that he could recall June focussing just on herself ever. They were on the point of wandering up to see what might need doing when their mother arrived out of breath. "Okay, guys, what's so important I had to bail out of a department meeting?" Rod reported on what Amy had told them. "Time's important, isn't it, Mom?" "Yeah, it is. I never thought Livia would turn against Amy that way. Is that her idiot husband, I wonder? Talking to her won't do any good, I know. Once she has an idea fixed in her head it stays there forever, seems like." "Mom, I think it's a few of the ladies from her church. Amy said the pastor had preached a sermon about tolerance for victims a couple of Sundays ago. Doesn't sound like it took." June was updating both of them. "Well, I can get it set up," Mom said. "I know her doctor will recommend it. He's already asked me why Amy hasn't been to see him, just for a checkup. Said he can't get any response from her mother. He said he can get the specialist appointment as soon as I confirm Amy will be in, if it turns out she's pregnant. We know that now. The procedure can be performed the next day. Only thing now is to get Amy. Shouldn't be too hard since you say she wants it done. I can't blame her for that." Joan knew helping Amy was at least as much for Rod and June as for Amy herself, not that she would ever have considered not helping her. "Mom, Amy said her mother absolutely forbade it. She threatened to lock her up if she attempted to do anything about it. I don't know if her mother is trying to kill her or doesn't know or doesn't care. Sounds pretty bad." "That I can do something about. I'll just go over and haul Amy out. There's got to be some point in being chief, even of a ten-person detachment." "Mom, you can't without a warrant or a court order," Rod warned. "You don't have probable cause for a warrant and by the time we get a court order it will be too late. You'll lose your job." "Doesn't matter. Amy's family. You watch me. Amy's more important than any job." "I might find another way. Give me until suppertime. If we don't have Amy in protection by then, you can unleash the forces of law and order, even if it's for the last time." "You've got six hours, and then I unload, regardless of the consequences. I'm out of here. Take care, both of you. Love you, and yes, it was really important." Joan left, even more unhappy than when she arrived. Maybe Rod could find an answer that wouldn't cost her her profession. If she did what she'd threatened she would never get another job policing anywhere. Maybe not even in private security. If it had to be to help Amy, though, it had to be and they would all have to deal with the consequences. She would be damned if she abandoned that girl. "What do you think you can do, Rod," June asked. "We can't break in and rescue her, and from the sounds of things this morning I don't think her mother will let her out for a good long while. Until it's too late for her to have an abortion, for sure." "Let me make a call." Rod entered a number he had memorized, but never used before. "Hello. Behan here. How may I assist?" "Behan? It's Rod." "Yes, Master Rod. How may I be of service?" "Dad said you could do lots of things. We've been doing all right so I haven't needed to call. Now, though, we've got a real problem. It's for Amy - I know Dad told you she was family, too. We have to help her and I don't know how." Rod explained the situation. "I don't know what you can do, and maybe you can't do anything, but I had to try. I'm sorry if I've asked for more than I ought, or that you can give." "Not at all, sir. I told your sister I wanted to be called on. The young lady in question will be at your home in three hours, if that is satisfactory." "Of course, Behan. That will be great. Thank you, thank you." June looked at Rod inquiringly. "Behan says she will be here before three. I don't know how or why and I hope to hell he's right. Let's get your room cleaned up." There was, in fact, not that much to do. They changed the bed, started a laundry, got out some towels and, at June's prodding, went looking for accessories like a toothbrush, brush, comb, and all the other bits and pieces one needed for a guest without luggage. When they had finished June looked at the clock, again. It looked back impassively. "June, it's the same time it was the last time you looked, and the time before. It can only go so fast." "I know. I'm worried, Rod. What if they try to fight him? What if Amy won't come? What if they call the police? What if they just won't let him in? What if . . . . " Rod did not bother to answer. June was getting so worked up she would not listen anyway. As far as he could see it was going to work, or it wasn't. His hope was that Behan had just seemed so competent and incredibly assured. Rod had no idea how it could be arranged. Behan could not pretend to be police - Amy's mother would insist on going along if she were being questioned again. Amy's stepfather (she always insisted on calling him that) was a large man. Surely Behan couldn't fight him, not and stay out of jail. Maybe he knew some professional kidnappers, but that would scare the daylights out of Amy and she wouldn't come. Rod just could not believe there was a way short of his mother's. But Behan had seemed so absolutely confident on the phone. He was beginning to rattle himself now. "June, c'mere and hug." Sometimes there was a way. The two of them were curled up together on the couch when the door opened. The double-locked front door just opened. It was, they later checked, precisely two hours and fifty-five minutes after Rod had hung up on Behan. In walked a very shell-shocked Amy. Three large bags followed. "I trust that is satisfactory, sir? Will there be anything more at present?" "Behan, you are a marvel." "I've often been told so, sir. I do try to provide service when required. If that is all at the moment, sir, mesdames," a polite nod to both girls "I will be off. Should Miss Amy require anything further from her home, you might suggest to her parents that they would not appreciate another visit from me. I think that may ease matters if there are difficulties." "Thank you, Behan. We should be fine for now. Is there anything we can get for you?" "No sir, thank you very much, sir. I'll be off. You have my number. Please use it. Even for a frivolity. I realize your father volunteered my services, with my full acquiescence, of course, but I find I have taken a personal interest, as well. In all of you, I hasten to add. Be of good cheer, sir, mesdames." The door closed and Amy fell into June's arms. June hugged her tight. Rod just stood there, amazed. Three hours of worry, for nothing. Well, six if you counted June's, too. Sometimes life just worked out. Rod's Quest Ch. 02 "That is an amazing man," Amy got out. She didn't seem to have the strength to talk, but couldn't resist talking about her experience, either. It was weird. "Less than an hour ago I was up in my room. My stepfather had just put a padlock on the outside of my door. I think it was locked. I heard voices downstairs in the hall. My mother yelled out that there was no way she would let me go. My stepfather threatened to throw someone out bodily. A minute later someone knocked and opened my door when I responded. "'Pardon me, Miss Amy. My name is Mark Behan. We've met before, at the hospital, though perhaps you do not recall. I have come to see whether you wish to attend upon Master Rod and Miss June at their home. They have invited you for a stay of several days.' "'My parents won't allow me to leave. I can't go.' "'The question is, Miss Amy, whether you want to go. There is no question but that, should you choose to do so, it will happen.' "'Yes, of course, I have to get out of here at least for a time. I need to take some clothes and things, but I don't have anything to put them in and I don't know where Mother has put her case, if she still has it.' I was babbling. "'Then please allow me a moment. I trust three bags will be sufficient?' "He was off before I could answer, and back in seconds, it seemed. He helped me pack. He managed to get almost everything in my room or in my bathroom into those three bags. I think the only things left behind were things I told him to discard. I have no idea how he did it. "Then we started downstairs. He had all three bags. He would not let me carry any of them. My mother screamed at me that I was an ungrateful bitch, and a murderess, and she'd have me back home soon enough. My stepfather said they would have the law on me and on the son of a bitch helping me. Behan simply looked at him and told him to mind his tongue in the presence of ladies. My stepfather just gaped at him, mouth open, nothing coming out. I've never seen him like that before. My mother kept yelling and Behan simply ignored her. "Then we were in his car, the bags in the trunk, and then we were here. Like you said, Rod, a marvel." "Don't worry about your stepfather or being haled out of here, Amy. Now we've got you again we aren't letting go until you want to go. The law's on our side now." "And so is Behan," Rod added, a very comforting thought, for him at least. Rod struggled upstairs with the bags, one at a time. He could believe Amy had nearly everything she owned in the three of them Maybe in each of them, they were that heavy. He left June and Amy busily sorting and putting away. Since June hadn't expected Amy to come with anything, she emptied some of the drawers in her bureau and dumped the contents in the spare room. Her closet wasn't going to give anything up, so she emptied the last few things in the spare room closet and told Amy to fill it up. Amy did. Their mother - Amy's surrogate mother, now, too - came home to the three of them busily preparing dinner. "Rod," Mom asked quietly, drawing him aside, "how in the name of heaven did you get her out of her house in one piece, and even looking the tiniest bit happy, and no one in jail?" "Behan." "I would not have believed it, even of him. And I was so damned mad I never even thought of him. Thanks, Roddie." After a supper at which all of them, even Amy, chattered away in fine good humour, Joan chased them off to their respective rooms. "Amy has an appointment at 9:30, so don't stay up late. That's if you still intend to go through with it, Amy. I've taken the week off so I can be with you." Amy nodded. She probably would not get much sleep, but it had to be done. ********** "Damn Damn Damn . . . Damn . . . I'm sorry June . . I'm sorry, Amy . . . It's all my fault, I should have . . . ." Rod was once more in the throes of his nightmare. "Shhh, big brother. It wasn't your fault. You are our hero." That was June, sliding in beside him to hold him and reassure him. "It's all right, big brother. You sent them away. Now we're here for you." Her breasts flattened against his chest, her strong arms gripped his, her pelvis pushed into his hips, her lips sought his, her warmth comforted him. He calmed down some. Then a second warmth crawled in behind him. A smaller pair of breasts pressed against his back, smaller hands gripped his shoulders, a soft pair of lips nuzzled his neck, a different pelvis cuddled up to his buttocks. Amy had come too. Damn, he thought as he drifted off to sleep again, enormously pleased, I should have ditched the pyjamas. ********** Day 48 Rod woke first, still pleased to find June curled up on his front, and surprisingly pleased to find Amy clinging to his backside. Both had nightshirts, which left him drooling over two sets of the finest legs in the country. Perhaps he was biased. Of course he was biased. But they were lovely legs. One set strong, toned, athletic, beautifully turned. One set smaller, softer, equally gorgeous. He tried to ease out of bed without waking either of them. He managed to wake them both. June was matter of fact. Her only comment was that she hadn't expected him to have the nightmare twice in a row. "If I'd known I'd wake up cuddled up with the two most beautiful women in this part of the world, I might have faked it," Rod kidded. "I didn't, unfortunately. It's still there. Maybe it was worse last night again because I'm worrying about Amy." Amy seemed a little embarrassed. Rod gathered her in and kissed her firmly. "Thanks, Amy," he said. "I really appreciate the whole family turning to. I haven't slept so well in months." Amy went a little pink. Rod might have been lying about her being beautiful, but at least he had said it. People hadn't been saying nice things to her for weeks, now. Maybe there was some point in going on. ******* A little later that morning Joan knocked on the door and said, "I know you're all in there. I don't care, not if it keeps you happy. But if anyone wants breakfast you better get a move on. Amy and June and I have to be out of here by 9:00." "How do you know all three of us are in here, Mom?" Rod asked. "I'm a trained police investigator, son," she drawled. "Besides, the other beds are empty." "Why can't I come, too?" "It's women's work, today, Rod. Keep the home fires burning and make supper. We probably won't be back until four, maybe later." After breakfast Amy and June joined Joan in the family car. She left the patrol car in the driveway. They had the 9:30 appointment with Amy's family doctor, who happened to be the Ransom family doctor as well. He examined Amy, confirmed the pregnancy and also confirmed to his satisfaction that Amy was strong enough to undergo the procedure. Then he had his office assistant book the appointment with the specialist. "Make sure she knows it's an emergency." "It's not an emergency, is it?" Amy asked. "With this kind of problem, it's always an emergency." Later that morning they met with the specialist who would be responsible for the abortion. The first step was to make absolutely sure this was what Amy wanted. "Are you absolutely certain, Amy? There's no way to reverse this. It's a one-way street." "Yes, doctor, I can't stomach the thought of what may be growing in me. Someday I want to have children conceived in love. That is not what I have now." "Well, in my view that's the only answer when pregnancy results from rape. In this case there are other reasons. You do not have the strength to go through with this pregnancy. It will impair your health for the rest of your life if it doesn't kill you outright. I suspect it will also affect you mentally, so that you may never climb out of the depression you are in now. "The procedure is fairly simple. With appropriate precautions it is quite safe, and of course it will be done in the hospital where we have access to any equipment we might need if there is an emergency. It is only day surgery, although I think in your case we are going to put you out. You don't need to watch me fiddling around in your insides. "Do you have someone to look out for you? I'm not going to go ahead with this if you think you can just walk out the door when it's done. Somebody has to be responsible for you. There can be a bad psychological reaction for some people, too. I think you are one of those people. You need somebody to do a little more than hold your hand." "Mrs. Ransom brought me over today. She will come with me and take me to her home after. She's taken some time off. I know my mother is opposed. Rod and June will be around even after Mrs. Ransom has to go back to work. We're kind of mutual support, I guess." "Should work. If you find you're having any problems afterwards, physical or psychological, call me. This is the number, so you can be sure to get through." She wrote a number on her card and handed it over. "Now let's have a look to make sure this procedure won't just make things worse." The specialist called Joan and June into the examining room after Amy had gotten dressed again. "This is part of my talk to the support group," she began. "It's a fairly simple procedure with a very low risk to physical health. Given what it is, it has the potential to cause serious psychological difficulties. There is really no alternative in this situation, which may help limit any trauma. I have discussed that with Amy. However, she is a sensitive woman. I expect her to react badly. Any problems can be controlled, and resolved in fairly short order, if she has the presence of strong, caring, helpful people who will keep her focussed on reality. "I don't know you personally, Ms. Ransom, but I know what you do. I don't think, if I were choosing, that I could find anyone else in this town I would rather see backstopping Amy. I hope you and your children are committed to her." "Doctor," Joan replied. "We have known and loved Amy since she moved to this town when she was two. She and June, here, have been inseparable since then. To all of us, she is part of our family. There is nothing we would not do for her. We are all committed to Amy, in the short run and for the long haul, too. You know June was victimized in the same crime. If the result had been different, that it was June who was pregnant, we know Amy would be there for her. We can't possibly do any less for Amy." "That relieves my mind a great deal. I worry about all of my patients. I think I will worry less about Amy knowing you people are in her corner." She checked with her assistant. "Amy, I'll see you tomorrow at the hospital at 8:00. Don't have anything to eat or drink after 10:00 tonight. The anesthesiologist will want to see you before 8:30. I think your procedure will be about 10:30. It will only take a few minutes. You should probably be ready to go home about 2:00. You'll still be pretty woozy about then, but you'll recover faster at home, or at least the home of someone who cares. I don't want to waste your time, Joan, June, but I'm sure Amy would feel better, and I know I will, if you just hang around the hospital after you bring Amy over tomorrow, until it's time to take her home again." "Thank you, doctor, we'll do that." With that the doctor turned to her next patient. She felt a little better about what was a very risky case. But what can you do when there is only one way ahead? ********** That night, when everyone was settling down for the night, when Amy came out of the bathroom she went right to Rod's room. "Rod, come sleep with us from the start, please. I'm worried and June's worried and your mother's worried and maybe you're worried, too. It won't do any of us any good to be up all night, which is what will probably happen. Please." How could he resist? He already had his pyjamas on (he had decided he had better continue to wear them since Amy was staying with them). The bed in June's room seemed to be a little bigger than his (in fact both were exactly the same size) so he went there. Amy and June were already curled up, and he slid in between them. "Roddie, you're overdressed," June complained. Rod hadn't noticed when he'd slid in but June was stark naked. "Umm," Rod replied brilliantly. Amy started to unbutton his pyjamas. At least he thought it was Amy. Whoever it was didn't have any clothes on. Whoever had nice tits, though. Between the two of them, Amy and June had Rod's clothes off in jig time. It would probably have been even faster if Rod hadn't been so eager to help. Morning was going to come too soon, and they had to start early, so there was no more fooling around. That's not quite true. There were a lot of wandering hands for a while, six, to be exact, and a few kisses that landed on various parts of different anatomies. It was not too long before all three of them fell asleep. It was a peaceful night. ***** To be continued This is a repost by request from March 2014. Voting is disabled. Feel free to comment.