Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/870150.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M, Other
  Fandom:
      Dawson's_Creek
  Relationship:
      Joey_Potter/Doug_Witter, Joey_Potter/Pacey_Witter
  Additional Tags:
      Kidnapping, Child_Abuse, Peeping_Tom
  Series:
      Part 2 of Wayward_Souls
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-07-05 Words: 19047
****** Those Witter Eyes ******
by romanticalgirl
Notes
     Originally posted 1-8-01
                               Those Witter Eyes
===============================================================================
Pacey tapped the steering wheel of his car impatiently; unsure of what exactly
he was waiting for. He’d been sitting still for hours, barely moving as he
watched the brick building in front of him.
The hard rap of a nightstick against his window brought his attention to the
man standing next to his car. He looked at him for a long moment before rolling
down the window. "Can I help you, officer?"
"I had a report from some of the houses along the road here saying that there
was a man sitting in his car outside the school."
"I’m waiting for my daughter."
"And have been for the past three hours, apparently." He gave Pacey a hard
look. "I’ve already run your plates, but I thought I’d give you a chance to
tell me what you’re really doing here, Mr. Witter?"
"I’m just waiting for my daughter." Pacey held the officer’s gaze. "I was in a
meeting that let out early, and I knew that if I went home and got caught up in
my work, I was likely to forget to be here on time. Which would have you
investigating a homicide, not some man sitting in his car by a school. I just
figured I’d wait here." He gestured to the pile of papers on the seat next to
him. "I’m sorry if I caused any undue alarm with the local folks."
"You won’t mind if I stay here while you pick up your daughter and then follow
you home, will you?"
"Not a busy day on the crime front, huh?" Pacey smiled and shrugged. "You’re
welcome to watch."
"I don’t care if I’m welcome to or not, Mr. Witter." He looked down at Pacey’s
paperwork and nodded. "Don’t let me keep you from anything."
As he walked away, Pacey’s smile thinned and his teeth clenched behind tight
lips. Grabbing some of the papers beside him, he straightened them and stared
unseeing at the words. Forcing himself to focus, he read through a few pages
before the sound of a bell rang through the crisp air. Dropping the sheets onto
the passenger’s seat, he opened his door with a quick glance at the cruiser
behind his car.
A rush of children left the school, laughing and pushing, teasing and calling
out to one another. Pacey’s eyes scanned the crowd until he saw his daughter
walking arm and arm with another little girl. He swallowed hard, wondering when
she’d gotten so old. With a casual wave, he motioned to the two girls and they
rushed over to him, taking care when they crossed the street. He squatted down
to their level and smiled at both of them. "Hey there, beautifuls."
"Hi Pacey!" The blonde greeted him with a happy hug and Pacey held her for just
a moment before letting her go. "Mom wanted me to be sure to thank you for
picking us up today."
He nodded and turned to the dark haired girl. "Hi again, Megan."
"Hi, Mr. Pacey."
His smile tightened for in infinite second before he answered her. "Your folks
are okay with me bringing you home from school?"
"Well, they didn’t know that Ms. Belmer couldn’t do it, so they don’t really
know." She bit her lower lip and hung her head for a minute before looking up
at him with wide eyes. "Maybe we shouldn’t tell? Just in case it isn’t okay?"
"I won’t say a word," he assured her as he stood to open the back door of the
car for both girls. He raised an eyebrow to the police officer who was still
watching him. After both girls had climbed in, he reminded them to fasten their
seatbelts before walking back toward the officer. "Did you want to ask her
anything? Or maybe talk to her friend?"
"My apologies, Mr. Witter." He smiled thinly. "But I’m sure you’ll be watching
those speed limit signs all the way home, won’t you? I’d hate to have to pull
you over for a driving infraction."
"Have a nice day, officer." Pacey walked back to the car, silently seething. As
he climbed into the driver’s seat, he turned slightly and gave both girls a
huge smile. "All righty, we’re off. Megan, you’re first." He rolled his eyes
crazily and stuck his tongue out at both girls. "And awwwwwaaaaaaay we go!"
The girls giggled as Pacey pulled out, making sure to signal as the cop pulled
out behind him. He didn’t speak the rest of the ride to Megan’s house, instead
listening to both girls talk. Anna, his next door neighbor’s daughter, giggled
as she told Megan about what someone had said on the playground, but Pacey’s
ears were tuned to Megan’s responses.
Her voice played havoc on his heart as he kept casting glances back in the
rearview mirror. Her hair was dark, slightly darker than her mothers, and her
eyes were a brilliant blue. Her face was slightly pudgy with hated Witter baby-
fat, but he could see the sharp cheekbones lurking under the surface. She was
going to be beautiful. Hell, she was beautiful.
"And here we are, ladies." Pacey pulled up alongside Megan’s house and stopped
the car, turning around in his seat. "The first stop on our crazy tour, the
Witter home of fun and frolic. Let’s all say goodbye to our departing
passenger. Anna, tell her what she’s won?"
Anna lowered her voice and tried not to giggle. "Just for playing, Megan has
won an all expenses paid trip back to school tomorrow morning. And, for being a
wild and wacky player, she also receives a night of homework, courtesy of Mr.
Blanks and his evil history class."
Megan clapped her hands excitedly before grabbing her book bag. "Thank you."
She wiped her eyes, freeing them of dramatic pretend tears. "This means...so
much." Giggling along with Anna, she opened the car door. "Bye An. Bye Mr.
Pacey."
"So long, Megan. We’ll see you next time."
As the door shut, Pacey’s gaze was locked on the little girl, running up the
path to her house. She reached the door and stopped, turning around to wave at
them both. They returned the gesture before Pacey started the car again, hoping
to be out of sight before the front door opened. As it did, he pulled out,
conscious of the police officer still behind him.
Anna continued talking all the way to their apartment complex, but Pacey didn’t
hear much of what she said, despite his half-hearted responses. His mind was on
the long sweep of dark hair that had appeared in the doorway as it opened, the
half-smile he thought he’d seen.
"You’re not listening to me."
Pacey shook his head as he pulled into his parking space and turned off the
car. "What? Me? Not listen? Never."
"What did I just say?"
"I think you just said that you thought David was dreamy." Pacey made a face at
her, sending her into another paroxysm of giggles. "And that you hope he’ll
give you his cookie tomorrow."
"Pudding." Anna stated, unhooking her seatbelt. "And I didn’t say dreamy. I
said icky."
"Right. Because boys that are icky are the kind of boys that Anna likes." He
unlocked the car doors and climbed out, walking around to open the door for
her. She grabbed her book bag and slid out, taking his hand as soon as it was
free. "Thanks for picking me up today. And for taking Megan home."
"Not a problem," he assured her, watching as the police car pulled away. "Let’s
get you home to your mom, huh?"
"Sure thing." Anna reached up and pushed the button for the elevator, staring
up at Pacey as she did so. "Oh! I brought you a present!"
"What?" He knelt down so they were eye to eye, even though Anna dropped her bag
on the floor and started digging through it. She finally pulled out a handful
of papers.
"It’s in here." She flipped through them, finally pulling out two pieces of
construction paper. "One’s for Mom. And we had to make one for our dads too,
but since I don’t have one, I thought I’d give it to you." The paper was wildly
decorated; flowers and swirls and random blocks of paper, all surrounding a
picture of Anna and Megan all dressed up in old-fashioned clothes, boas and
high heels. "You like it?"
"I love it." He smiled at her. "When did you take this?"
"Last summer. We went over to her grandparent’s house and there were all these
old clothes. Her grandma said we could do it. And her mom helped us a bunch."
"Her mom’s nice?"
"The nicest!" Anna grinned. "Well, except for my mom. And her grandma was cool
too. She made us cookies and dinner, which was something weird, but I ate it."
The elevator arrived and they both walked inside. "Her grandpa was quiet. I
don’t think he likes anyone very much."
"But you had fun?"
"Oh yeah." Anna nodded wildly. "I’m dressed as Lady Waldorf. And Megan is Lady
Astoria. That was one of the things in the trunk, some flyer for some hotel or
something. So we took our names from that. Megan got to pick first, so she got
the better name."
"Well, Lady Waldorf, I think your name is lovely." He took her hand as the
elevator door dinged and led them both into the hallway. "And I’m sure your
mom’s going to love it." He stopped at her apartment door and knocked, knowing
that he’d be there forever should Anna have to try and find her key.
"I got it!" Anna yelled, slipping her key into the lock. "You shouldn’t knock,
Pacey. You know she’s probably knee-deep in paperwork."
"Just letting her know we’re here." He ruffled her hair as she opened the door.
She pushed his hand away and smoothed the blonde curls down, smiling as her
mother came into view. Pacey waved to her. "Kid’s home safe and sound."
"Thank you, Pacey." She grimaced at the small mountain of paperwork in front of
her. "Now if only I could convince you that this was much more fun than picking
up the girls. Did Megan get home okay?"
"I took care of her as if I was her own father." He assured her before waving
once again. "I’ll see you tomorrow, squirt." He walked down the hall, not
hearing the chorus of good-byes. Instead, he focused on the picture in his
hands and the serious, dark-haired girl staring back at him.
                                     ~**~
"Karen." Pacey kissed the woman’s cheek before sitting down beside her,
immediately taking her hand in his. "I’m sorry I’m late."
"I was distraught the whole minute, Pacey." She smirked at him. "Which I’m only
saying because I know that’s what you believe despite myriad evidence to the
contrary."
He gave her a distraught look before ruining it with a smile. "You wound me."
"I only wish I could." The waiter approached them with drinks, setting them
down on the table. Karen smiled her thanks and Pacey surveyed her profile as
she did so. She was beautiful. Chestnut colored hair that hung just past her
shoulders, thin, sharply defined features, eyes that sparkled with mischief and
intelligence and a wit that kept him on his toes. "Is there a reason you keep
staring at me?"
"I’m trying to find chinks in the armor." He picked up his drink and took a
sip.
"Not going to happen where you and I are concerned. I’m immune to your charm."
"No one’s immune to my charm." He leaned closer, letting his breath tickle her
ear. "Least of all smart ass women who are just using sarcasm as a defense
against their real feelings for me."
"You think you’re irresistible, don’t you?"
He looked at her, seeing Joey so sharply in her features. "I’ve been told."
"Recently? By someone of somewhat discerning tastes?" Karen shook her head in
disbelief. "You’ll have to forgive me if I find that impossible to believe."
"Come and dance with me and I’ll change your mind." Pacey stood up and held a
hand out to her, knowing that she would accept. Karen smiled and let him lead
her to the floor, sighing when he wrapped his arms around her. "The Witter
charm is like an aphrodisiac."
"So are oysters. And they don’t work on me either."
Pacey rested one hand on the back of her neck while the other found the small
of her back. He held her close, barely moving as the music washed over them.
"But I know you’re going to let me take you home tonight, and I know you’re
going to kiss me."
"You do?" Her voice had changed, losing the sarcastic edge.
"Yeah. And I know that as much as I want to, I’m going to turn you down when
you ask me to come in. Although by the time I leave, you’re going to be too
weak to stand."
"And how do you know all this?" She kissed his neck, nibbling at the firm skin.
"Because I’m irresistible."
"But apparently I’m not," she pouted. "Since you keep turning me down."
"I don’t want our relationship to be about sex, J...just...I just don’t think
we’re ready for it."
"I’m ready."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes slightly cool. "I’m not."
Karen nodded, accepting his words. "All right, Romeo. I’ll let you make the
first time perfect."
He nodded in return and pulled her closer, his eyes focused on the opposite
side of the restaurant and the family sitting at one of the tables. Three dark
heads all bent together, laughing together like a family. His hands tightened
slightly around Karen as his eyes narrowed. "That’s what I do."
                                     ~**~
Pacey swung the apartment door open, smiling as soon as he saw who his visitors
were. "Hey there!" He stepped back and held the door open for them. "What
brings you two lovely ladies to my neck of the woods?"
"Well, Mom’s made dinner and she wanted us to invite you over." Anna smiled up
at him. "She said since you’ve been so helpful while she’s been swamped with
work and since you probably haven’t had a home-cooked meal in forever, you’re
supposed to come over."
"If you’re not busy," Megan added.
"Let’s see." Pacey pretended to puzzle through the situation. "Too busy to have
dinner with three very lovely ladies," he grinned as both girls blushed. "I’d
probably have to be crazy to think anything was too busy for that, don’t you
think?"
Anna reached out and grabbed one of his hands, prompting Megan to do the same.
"So come on then."
A strange rush surged through Pacey as Megan’s hand wrapped around his. He felt
taller, prouder, perfect. Is that what little girls did to their fathers? Was
it just that simple? He let them tug him out of the apartment, only stopping
long enough to lock the door. Even though his keys were in his right pocket, he
refused to release Megan’s hand, instead letting go of Anna’s and reaching for
them that way.
"What’s for dinner?" He asked as they continued walking.
"Mom’s making spaghetti."
"And my mom sent over some stuff too," Megan smiled up at him. "I don’t know
what, but she promised it was really good."
"Did your mom bring you over?"
"Nah, Dad dropped me off on his way to work."
Pacey’s smile tightened at the word and a rush of anger went through him. Not
at Doug. Doug was just as much a victim in this little game as he was. But at
her, at Joey. At his "true love." The phrase made him laugh now, made him
angry. "What’s your dad do?"
"He’s a policeman." Megan stated proudly. "He catches all the bad guys."
"That’s pretty impressive." Pacey admitted. "All of them?"
"Well, all the ones that don’t run faster than he does." Megan giggled, clueing
Pacey into the fact that he’d just been invited into a family joke. Anna opened
her apartment door and led them in.
"Hey, Mom! He said yes!"
"I can see that, honey." Anna’s mother stood at the kitchen counter, smiling at
Pacey. "Hi, Pacey."
"Hey." He released both the girls’ hands and walked over toward the kitchen.
"Smells great in here. Thanks for the invitation."
"Well, you’re always eating out, I figured it was the least I could do."
Handing him a glass of wine, she motioned toward the couch. "Make yourself
comfortable. It’ll all be ready in a few minutes."
Pacey sat down, laughing as both girls launched themselves into his lap. He
managed to set his glass down before engaging them in a tickle war, leaving all
three of them panting for breath and giggling wildly by the time they were
called for dinner.
As they walked to the table, Pacey followed both girls, closing his eyes
briefly and wondering, not for the first time, if this is what life would have
been like, if this is what it was supposed to be like to have a family.
                                     ~**~
He sits in his car until it’s quiet. No one thinks to say anything here because
they feel protected. A policeman lives on the block; he’ll keep us safe. The
lights are all out up and down the street, obviously a quiet neighborhood. The
only light that remains on inside any of the houses that he can see is in the
one across the street. It’s her office. He can see her sitting at her desk,
running her fingers through her hair as she works on something.
It must be nice for her to have the quiet. Husband out of the house not needing
anything from her, daughter gone for the night nestled in her best friend’s
sleeping bag. Just her, alone with her work. Completely safe.
He slips out of the car silently, all the practice he’s had making it second
nature. He’s been watching her for years now; if you count all the time he
spent staring at her when he loved her. Watching her now is just habit. As he
reaches the bushes outside the office, he settles into the small area he’s
managed to make there. By day it looks as if nothing has been disturbed, but if
you know it’s there, it’s obviously man-made. Made for a man.
He can see in just enough that she can’t see him. Her hair’s down around her
shoulders already, which angers him somewhat. He loves the part where she
unhooks her hair. Of course, she usually waits until she’s in the bedroom for
that. Maybe the freedom of being alone has made tonight different. The thought
excites him. As much as he loves her routine, the thought of something
different is enticing in its own way.
She stands up and he’s able to see what she’s wearing. An oversized sweatshirt
that obviously once belonged to her husband, or maybe still does. Jeans tight
enough to arouse any man. Socks cover her feet as she paces around the room.
She taps a pencil against her teeth, obviously trying to figure something out.
Watching her, he remembers the feel of those teeth on his skin, scraping his
shoulder as she bit him.
He shakes his head. Did she ever do that? Or is that just the vivid fantasy he
has of her in his mind? She’s stretching now, her arms above her head, bringing
the loose shirt tight over her breasts. He watches transfixed as she lets her
arms fall, her shoulders slump before reaching down and pulling the shirt over
her head.
No bra. He feels his cock come to attention, tight against his jeans. Her
breasts are different now, slightly changed since her daughter’s birth. She
leans back against a wall and runs her fingers up her stomach to cup her
breasts. She’s looking at them somewhat clinically while he’s looking at them
through a haze of lust. He wants his hands to be the hands that hold her.
The phone rings, startling them both. He ducks down just out of sight in case
it’s a neighbor, someone finally having seen him. He can’t hear her words, but
he hears her tone and knows that it’s safe. She sounds happy, not frightened.
Standing again, he watches her. She’s still bare-breasted, now sitting at her
desk.
Her voice drops, and knowing her, he knows the conversation has turned serious,
sexy. There’s something playful in her words and he watches as she unfastens
her jeans and lets them slide down her legs. Is it her husband or someone else?
Some stranger? She sheds her clothes so gracefully as he talks to her, her body
like some sort of goddess sprawled out on leather. Her hands touch her breasts
again, only now there is nothing clinical. Now she’s imagining whoever’s on the
other end of the phone.
He’s jealous, but not about to abandon this opportunity. She’s alone and
uncaring. With aching slowness, he unfastens his own jeans as he watches her,
freeing his cock from its denim prison. She’s running her fingertips over her
nipples, giggling playfully into the phone. They’re hard and puckered as she
touches them. Is she telling him that he’s turning her on? Is she making him
say dirty things to her?
He runs his hand down the length of his shaft, amazed at how hot his skin is.
He’s on fire watching her, wondering. She lets her hand trail down her stomach
and disappear into the thatch of dark hair that tops her thighs. Her chair
shifts slightly and he can see the faint glistening of liquid, her arousal. Her
fingers are brushing her clit and he remembers the taste of that wet skin.
Her mouth is open and she’s barely whispering into the phone. Her hand is
moving, brushing her clit, feeling the pulsing under her fingers as the person
on the other end talks to her. He wants to hear the words. A rush of power runs
through him as she fumbles with the phone, punching the speaker as the receiver
crashes into the cradle. Her now free hand moves up to her nipples, pinching
them lightly as a low, soft, male voice speaks to her.
He still can’t hear the words, but he hears the husky tone of the whispers,
knows who is speaking to her now. Her head is thrown back in passion, hungry
for his touch. Her fingers move without stopping, her leather chair wet with
her excitement. He can almost smell her as he pumps his cock, thrusting toward
the house, towards her. He wants to slip inside her warmth and bury himself to
the hilt in that slick wet passage. He wants to pin her to the chair until she
cries out...
She cries out softly, the sound clear as her back arches away from the chair
and she comes. She’s panting as she crashes back toward the leather, reaching
over to pick up the phone again. He loses her then as she turns away. His cock
is still hard, still swollen as she hangs up and moves out of the room, her
naked body still so sexy to him.
He stands there until he’s sure she’s gone. He sees the lights in her bedroom
go out, but he still waits. When the time is finally right, he eases his cock
back inside his jeans, careful with the still engorged flesh. He aches more
than ever now, wanting her. He can smell her, taste her in his mind as he moves
out of the bushes and over to the window he knows will be unlocked.
With care and precision, he slips inside, thankful that the room is at the back
of the house where no one can see him. He lands like a cat, skulking through
the bathroom to the hamper where she had dumped her clothes on the way to the
bedroom. He’s still for a moment, opening the door to listen to her breathe.
The soft, deep sound is even and he knows he’s safe.
Moving out of the bathroom, he walks to her office, knowing the dark room like
the back of his hand. He knows the entire house like it was his own, like it
should be his own. Moving over to her chair, he kneels before it, imagining her
spread legs in front of him.
The whole room smells like sex and sweat. Perhaps she was exhausted from the
phone call, she didn’t do more than gather her clothes. He buries his nose
against the leather chair and just inhales her, reaching down to his jeans. He
unzips them and frees his cock, stroking it again now that he’s near her. The
edge of the chair is still damp. He runs his tongue over the leather, licking
at the remaining taste of her. It’s nothing like burying himself in her, but
it’s enough. It only takes a few firm jerks before he comes, his thick semen
staining the plastic mat her chair rests on.
Reaching into his pocket, he removes some tissues, cleaning up the mess so that
nothing is left behind. He tucks his cock back into his pants and leaves the
room, heading toward her bedroom. He looks in on her through the open door; the
covers pulled up just under her breasts. The camera in his belt pack has high-
speed film that allows him to capture her like this with no flash.
He moves back to the bathroom and digs through the hamper for his prize. Every
time he does this, captures something of her, he takes a prize to remember the
moment, the night, the memory he’s stolen. This time they’re blue. He almost
laughs.
They match the Witter eyes.
                                     ~**~
"You rang?" Pacey stuck his head inside Anna’s apartment and smiled at her
mother. They’d gotten to be good friends in the months he’d been living there,
especially since Pacey had been willing to help out when Anna’s father had left
them.
"I did." She sighed and brushed her hair back from her face. "You know that I
hate to ask this, you know that I wouldn’t ask this if it weren’t
absolutely..."
"What do you need?"
"Help." She grinned impishly. "Anna’s invited Megan over tonight for a
sleepover, and I agreed to it weeks ago. But something's come up for work and I
have to go into the office. I don’t know how late I’d be and I know that it’s
short notice and I know that you’re busy and I know that I have no right to
ask, but..."
"I’d love to." Pacey shrugged his shoulders. "It’d be a pleasure. You know I
love the girls."
"I know. But I also feel like all I ever do is take advantage of that fact. I
mean, it’s so easy. Anna adores you. Megan loves you." She glanced away, not
noticing as Pacey smiled, pride flooding his features. "It’s more than tempting
to just dump them in your lap and run away from everything."
" As long as you come back eventually, you can run away all you like." He
glanced down at his watch. "What time?"
"I’m picking them up from school then we have to run by Megan’s house. Her
parents are having us over for dinner. After that, we’ll be here. Say about
eight?"
Pacey nodded, his eyes slightly narrowed. "That should be good. I’ll be here."
"You’re a lifesaver, Pacey. I owe you...well, a lot more than just one, I
assure you." She glanced down at her watch and sighed. "I’ve got to get ready.
I really, really appreciate this. You didn’t have a date or anything tonight,
did you?"
"Nope. I’m free for you to use and abuse."
"Now you’re making me feel bad." She shoved her papers into her briefcase and
snapped off her computer. "I’ll knock on your door when we get back from
dinner."
"Thanks." He gave her a look. "You might not want to mention to Megan’s parents
that I’m watching the girls." At her curious glance, he shrugged. "I know
Anna’s been looking forward to this for a long time, and I’d hate for them to
pull the plug on the slumber party of the century just because they don’t know
me."
"I didn’t think about that. But still, I feel a little awkward."
"You didn’t tell them about me picking the girls up that day, and besides, it’s
only for a couple of hours, right? What harm is there?"
She glanced down at her watch once more and sighed. "You’re right. I’m being an
overprotective mother-type, aren’t I?"
"It’s sort of your job." Pacey smiled at her before turning around and heading
back for his apartment. "Just knock when you’re ready for me."
"Thanks again, Pacey."
"Not a problem." He walked back to his apartment, a strange smile on his face.
Locking his door behind him, he wandered into the room across the hall from his
bedroom. He stood in the doorway, staring at the walls for a long moment before
grabbing his camera off the table just inside the room. He glanced down at the
stack of photos still lying there, the strange smile deepening.
He waited just inside his door until Anna’s mother left, looking slightly
harried as usual. As soon as she was gone, he grabbed his wallet and his jacket
then stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind him. He held the camera
as he slipped the jacket on, slinging it back over his shoulder when he was
done. Making sure he’d given her enough time to leave, he started toward the
stairs and jogged down them, both hands in his pockets.
One hand clutched his keys tightly, keeping them from jingling; giving him
away, while the other tightened around the stolen silk, fueling the fire that
drove him downward.
                                     ~**~
It’s dark, but not dark enough. He hates feeling exposed like this, like anyone
could see him. He knows this vantage point well, has used it many times in the
past. It allows him the perfect view of their house, their home. He can see
into the living room and dining room, the slightest glance into the kitchen.
It’s not his favorite, as it keeps her hidden from him too much of the time,
but tonight he knows that he can’t risk too much.
He wants to risk it. He feels powerful tonight.
He lifts the lens up, bringing it all closer. There they are, just like they’d
been in the restaurant. So happy. One big happy family of lies, covered up by
innocent smiles. They’re all innocents in this, except Joey. Is that what makes
her still so attractive to him? Does he like the fact that she can love them
and lie to them as easily as she’s always lied to him?
The shutter clicks quietly, bringing it all into focus. She sits there at the
table, laughing with her friend, giggling like the little girl that she is. He
wonders for a moment how many seconds of her life he’s missed, what laughter,
what tears. He snaps a few more photos, capturing some of those moments
forever. She turns toward the window as if she’s seen him, smiling out at the
dusk. The shutter clicks again and he smiles back at her, as if she can see
him.
Like this, he feels real, normal. He feels the connection between them, knows
she feels it too. She must know, on some deep level, that he’s more than just a
man to her.
She looks away and everything returns to normal in the house, dinner dishes
clinking, laughter and conversation centered around their day to day lives. He
watches Anna for a brief time, watches her stare up at Doug as he relates some
story, admiration in her eyes. Jealousy flares for a moment, dissipating as she
turns back to Megan and makes a face. He laughs to himself, remembering what it
was like to be that young, that innocent.
The laughter dies as her mother walks into the room, dressed in something soft.
He lifts the camera again, capturing her once more. She smiles more than he
remembers, and they feel forced to him. She was never the type to smile so
much, even when she was with him, when she was happy.
She moves to the blinds and closes them against the fading sun, blocking his
view. He wants to curse, but he knows it’s probably for the best. He needs to
be home soon, needs to be there when the girls need him.
Tonight, he’ll see the moments that Doug and Joey will miss. Tonight, he will
be the doting father. Tonight.
                                     ~**~
"Paaaaaaaccccceeeyyyyy!" Anna’s voice preceded her knock by the entire length
of the hallway. He opened the door just as she reached it, smiling down at her.
"I take it you’re home?"
"I am. And Megan’s here and Mom’s gotta leave, so come on!" She grabbed his
hand and pulled on it, tugging him out of his apartment. He laughed and grabbed
his keys, pulling his door shut.
"All right. All right." He followed her willingly, letting her lead him through
her open door. "I’m here."
"Thanks again, Pacey." Her mother walked into the room. "You’re a lifesaver.
Have I mentioned that? Because you are. And I’ll try not to be too late, since
I know that you’ve probably got much better things to do than mind these two
monsters all night long."
"We’re not monsters!" Anna and Megan chorused together.
"Just don’t let them stay up past eleven, if I’m not home by then. And whatever
you do, don’t let them watch the scary movies that Anna doesn’t think I know
about that are on cable tonight."
"Mooooom!"
"And I hope, for your sake, that at some point tonight they stop talking in
exclamation points." She laughed and held her arms open, accepting the hug her
daughter willingly gave her. "Be good?"
"Always."
"And don’t try to sweet-talk him into anything. He’s been warned. And he can
resist all little girl charms." She mock-glared at both of them. "I told him
how."
"Right," Anna laughed. "Because you do so well yourself."
"Hush." She kissed the top of her head and then ruffled her hair. "Love you,
sweetie."
"Love you too, Mom."
She grabbed her briefcase once more and headed for the door. "Help yourself to
anything, Pacey. I really, really appreciate..."
"I know. Go. Have a nice evening. Take a little time for yourself. We’ll be
fine. We won’t eat you out of house and home, and I won’t let them watch
anything that will warp their fragile little minds." He grinned at her.
"Relax."
"You have my cell phone number?"
"Anna’s got it memorized and I’m sure you’ve posted it on fifteen different
pieces of paper around the house. Have a nice night."
"Thank you, Pacey."
"Go." He shoved her gently toward the door, trying not to laugh. "We’ll be
fine." He shut the door behind her and turned to face the girls. "So, shall we
find some of those scary movies? Or shall we make popcorn first?"
                                     ~**~
Megan yawned and snuggled closer to Pacey. He grinned down at her in the soft
glow of the television, then turned his head to do the same to Anna. "This
movie’s not so scary like this," she admitted, ducking her head as she did so,
reacting to the monster that jumped out on the screen.
Anna eeped and did the same, peeking out through her fingers. "Maybe Mom was
right."
"Nah, you guys are doing great." Pacey laughed softly, hugging them both a
little closer. "But we can turn it off it you want."
"I’m not afraid." Megan looked up at him and smiled. "You make me feel safe."
He smiled back, barely blinking back tears. "That’s my job." He turned back to
the movie, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He realized that this
moment was his alone. Nothing could take it from him. He was holding his
daughter, his little girl, and she was staring at him with trust and faith and
love, feeling safe in his arms.
They watched the rest of the movie in silence, Pacey comforting them as they
cringed. Finally, when it ended, he turned off the set and gave them each a
stern look. "All right, young ladies. I think you both know what time it is."
"Time for ice cream?" Anna looked up at him innocently, trying not to giggle at
his expression.
"Bed time, little missy. Both of you go brush your teeth, then get out here and
get in those sleeping bags." He pushed them off the couch, watching as they
rushed for the bathroom in the darkened apartment. Giggles echoed down the hall
along with the sound of running water as he cleaned up the movie mess. Rinsing
out the popcorn bowl, he walked down toward the half-open door. "You guys
ready?"
"Yes!" Megan poked her head out and gave him a toothy grin. "All clean."
"Anna?"
"Ditto." She followed Megan out to the living room, snuggling into one of the
sleeping bags spread out on the floor. "Night, Pacey."
"Night, Anna."
She yawned and closed her eyes. "Night, Meg."
"Night." Megan climbed into her bag and snuggled into it. "Night, Pacey."
"Night." He dimmed the lamp beside the couch and sat down, stretching his legs
out over the cushions. "Now, no talking."
"Right," Anna agreed quietly, inching closer to Megan’s sleeping bag. Both
girls giggled and started whispering, ignoring Pacey’s throat clearing.
Finally, he gave up and closed his eyes, losing himself in the childish
mutterings, the silly giggles and the vague whispers.
He was almost asleep when Megan’s voice seemed to penetrate the haze of sleep
that threatened to drag him under; her anxious voice different than it had been
all night.
"You wanna know a secret?"
He opened his eyes, surprised to find her standing beside him, looking for all
the world like a ghost of Joey from years ago. "Sure."
She stepped closer, biting her lower lip and tilting her head as she did so.
"You can’t tell anyone. Even I’m not supposed to know, but I have to say it
cause if I don’t I might just die."
He nodded, sitting up a little. "What is it?"
She leaned in, lowering her voice with a quick glance back at where Anna was
sleeping. "My mom’s gonna have a baby."
He froze, just staring at her, not seeing the excitement in her eyes, not
hearing the thrill in her voice. "She is?"
"I heard her and Daddy talking about it, about how she was going to have a baby
and how excited they were. I’m not supposed to know because she’s not sure, she
hasn’t been to the doctor, but she says she knows like she knew she was going
to have me." Her smile lit up the dark room. "Isn’t that neat-o?"
"That’s...that’s great. Amazing." He fought to control his voice, control the
anger that burned inside him. His hands curled into fists, his nails digging
into the tender skin of his palms. "You want a brother or a sister?" The
question was rote, it came from him, although he had no idea how he managed the
words.
"I don’t care." She shook her head. "I just want a baby something." Her giggle
was so innocent, so child-like; it hurt him worse than her initial revelation.
He’d have given her siblings; he’d have given her everything.
He started to say something when the lock clicked. Megan hurried back to her
sleeping bag and climbed in, holding her finger in front of her pursed lips to
remind him that it was a secret. Pacey managed to get to his feet as Anna’s
mother walked in quietly. "How were they?" She whispered.
"Great." The words were clipped; bit out through clenched teeth. No longer
faced with Megan’s wonder, he could feel the rage overtaking him. "I’m bushed.
I’ll leave you with the hellions." He walked past her, controlling his
breathing with skill borne of practice. "I’ll see you tomorrow."
"Thanks again, Pacey."
"It was my pleasure." He shut the door behind him, not caring that he’d been
rude, not caring that she was probably staring at the door wondering what the
hell was wrong with him. He wanted to scream. He wanted to curse her name,
shout it out and beat on his chest until the pain stopped scorching him.
Closing his apartment door, he headed straight for the phone. He hated her.
She’d betrayed him again, lied to him again. He wondered who she’d been
fucking, who played donor this time. He knew the answer, just as he knew who
had been on the phone with her the other night. Punching in the numbers, he
placed the familiar call and hung up after a few words.
                                     ~**~
He paces the room like a caged animal, growling under his breath. He called
over a half-hour ago and his impatience is like a living thing inside him.
Forcing himself to leave the living room, he walks down the hallway, past his
bedroom to the smaller room where he spent most of his time. Snapping on the
light angrily, he walks to the center, his eyes closed.
Taking a deep breath, he opens them, taking in the covered walls. They are
lined with pictures, every surface covered. Pictures he received in letters
from his mother, pictures he’s taken with his telephoto lens. Pictures upon
pictures that blend together in a swirl of dark hair.
Stepping toward one wall, he smiles at the innocent face that stares back at
him, her blue eyes alight with childish wonder. Two walls are devoted to her.
Her at school, walking in the park, playing with her puppy. She’s always
smiling some sort of half-smile, always enjoying herself. There are pictures of
her with other people – teachers and friends, but never her parents. He laughs
harshly at the thought of the word.
Her parent.
Feeling the anger grow once more, he turns to the opposite wall. There she is
in all her backstabbing glory. Her dark hair is longer than when she’d been
his, long and so often twisted back in a braid. He moves closer, feeling the
painful throbbing of his blood as it courses through his body. She smiles. She
smiles at him, at her. She smiles as if there’s nothing wrong in her world, as
if it isn’t all based on lies.
The throbbing grows worse and he steps closer to the wall, reaching for the
packet of photos that lay in a precise pile on the table by the door. These are
the ones he craves, covets. These are the ones that he needs; the ones he
developed himself.
They have to be seen in a set order, an order he won’t let himself stray from
no matter how much the last few call to him. First he needs to see her take her
hair out of the braid, let the long and silky strands fall down to the middle
of her back. Then he can allow himself to look at her as she kicks off her
shoes, then pulls off her shirt. Her pants always come next, the perfect shot
of her bending over, her back away from the camera as if she’s posing for him.
Then she’d takes off her bra and cups her breasts, the nipples perfect in the
hollow between her thumb and fingers. Next her panties that she inevitably
leaves in a pile beside the bed. Then she’s naked and his, he can see her,
watch her, want her.
The blood is persistent now, forcing his cock hard against his jeans, making
the impatience, the wait that much worse. The knock finally comes at the door
and he walks toward it purposefully, the few photos left still in his hands.
The face of the man who opens the door is one he wouldn’t recognize if he saw
it in the mirror, contorted with hatred and anger, jealousy and rage.
The woman who stands in the doorway doesn’t care, no longer notices. "Sorry I’m
late."
"You will be," he assures her, stepping back to let her in. She shrugs off her
coat and throws it over the couch, turning back to face him. He no longer
scares her, although she does still wonder what had taken him to this point.
"You know what to do."
She nods and reaches back; freeing her hair from the long braid it’s in. The
dark and silky strands fall to the middle of her back. She then kicks off her
shoes and pulls off her shirt. He leans against the apartment door as she turns
around, lowering her pants to the floor and stepping out of them, allowing him
a long, lazy look at her ass as she does so.
She straightens and takes off her bra, cupping her breasts the way he likes for
a moment before slipping her panties to the floor. Giving him a seductive look,
she picks up all her clothes but the pink panties and piles them neatly on the
sofa. He picks up the errant cloth and tucks it into his pocket, following her
as she heads to his bedroom.
Tossing the few pictures in his hands onto the bed, he gives her a sharp nod.
Moving over to the edge of the bed, she turns to face him, lowering her voice
to the pitch he likes so much. "You know you want me."
"Yes," he admits, the sound guttural and ugly.
"But I want him. I love him." She picks up a picture and holds it out to him,
forcing him to look at the images he captured. "Look at me love him." He bats
her hand away and so she bends over and gathers up more pictures. "Look at the
way he fucks me. Look at me straddle him, look at me bury his cock inside me."
"Shut up."
"Does it turn you on to watch me fuck him? Does it get you hot and hard?" She
reaches out and touches his cock through his jeans, stroking the hardened
shaft. She unfastens his pants and pushes them down his body, careful to keep
her face away from his hands that are clenched into fists. His barely
restrained fury is stronger than she’s ever seen it.
He grabs her hand before she can touch him then grabs the one that holds the
photographs. Turning her around, he forces her face down onto the bed, holding
her there with one hand. With the other, he shakes the 8X10s from her grasp and
watches as they fall onto the bed. There she is, her dark hair falling over his
waist as she sucks on his cock. There she is, her legs wrapped around his
waist, her mouth open as she cries out. There she is, bent over the edge of the
bed as he slides into her from behind.
Quickly placing a condom on his cock, he slides into her, one hand holding the
back of her neck so that she is forced to stare at the picture beside her face.
"Does he fuck you like this?"
"Yes. Better."
He grunts as he thrusts hard and deep, anger fueling his movements. "Does he
make you scream?"
"Yes."
"Do you love him?"
"Yes." She bites out each word, her body tense against his. The black and white
images blur before her eyes as he continues thrusting, impaling her with every
stroke. He moves and groans asking her the same questions over and over, always
receiving the same answer until she feels the hot drop of his tears on her
back. She waits, listening to his silent sobs until the questions come again.
"Do you love him?" He slides out of her and steps away, his body shaking. She
rolls onto her back and stares up at him, her hazel eyes meeting his blue ones.
"Joey? Do you love him?"
She watches him sink to his knees and remove the condom, his cock still
swollen. She doesn’t know who Joey is, doesn’t know what she’s done to the man
in front of her. "No, Pacey. I love you."
He comes then, like he always does, his semen staining the wood floor. She
stands up and gathers the pictures, putting them on his nightstand in a neat
pile, not a corner out of place. Walking out of the room, she gathers her
clothes and puts them on, taking the stack of money that sits next to the door.
Beneath the bills is a pair of blue panties, what she’ll be required to wear on
her next visit.
The door shuts behind her and she puts him out of her thoughts, refusing to let
her mind dwell on how much she looks like the woman in his photos and how
scared she would be if she were Joey. Whoever she is.
                                     ~**~
Pacey laughed as the two girls scrambled out of his car, waiting impatiently
for him to climb out. He got out slowly, listening to their agonized cries.
Finally, he shut the door and held out both hands. As soon as they claimed
them, he looked down at both girls. "Race ya."
The three of them took off, rushing for the store. Inside and panting slightly,
Pacey stopped and looked at them both sternly.
"Okay, I don’t want an ruckus. And I don’t want to have to bail either of you
out of the security office." He ignored their giggles. "So, here’s ten bucks
each. Don’t waste it on crappy boy band stuff either, because then I’ll just
have to leave you here."
"Okay," Anna tugged on his hand. "Can we go now?"
"I’m keeping my eye on you two," he insisted. "I see so much as one instance of
hip swiveling and this whole trip is over." He handed them the promised money
and crossed his arms, rolling his eyes. "Go."
They both took off and he couldn’t help but smile. They linked arms and headed
for the toys like children possessed, leaving him alone. Walking behind them at
a much slower pace, he surveyed the things they showed interest in, picking up
an item or two after they’d passed it by. Very few things held his attention,
although he did watch both of them closely as they wove through shopping
adults.
You could never be too careful.
Anna released Megan as she reached the Barbie aisle, basking in the sea of
pink. Leaving her friend alone, Megan headed for another section. Torn, Pacey
decided Anna wasn’t going anywhere, so he followed behind Megan, watching her.
"Would it be okay if I used some of the money for a present?"
He had stopped behind her as she reached the baby aisle, inhaling the scent of
powder and innocence. "It’s your money, Megan. You can do what you like with
it."
"Even though I’m not supposed to know yet, I want to get something for the
baby." She gave him a shy smile. "I’ve always wanted a brother or a sister."
"You’re an only child?"
"Yeah." She bit her lower lip and nodded. "Mom and Daddy have been trying,
that’s why they’re so excited. That’s why I overheard, I think. Mom was crying
and I thought maybe I’d done something wrong, but Daddy kept saying it was
okay, it was perfect, it was what they wanted. And Mommy was laughing and
crying, saying she knew but it was such as surprise and she loved him." Megan’s
smile brightened the whole aisle. "I always wanted to be a big sister."
Pacey got down until he was eye level with her. "You’ll do a great job," he
assured her. "You’re perfect big sister material."
"Really?"
He nodded. "So, what are you going to buy? Clothes? A toy?" He found a stuffed
bear that played a lullaby. "What about this?"
Megan’s face lit up and she took it from him, hugging it to her. "It’s pretty."
Glancing at the price tag, she sighed. "But too much. I still want a present
for me too." She reluctantly handed the bear back to him and started to look
around, finding something cheaper. Picking out a pair of booties, she held them
up to him then took off, hurrying back to Anna.
Pacey stared down at the bear for a moment before heading toward the front of
the store, ready to wait for the girls to finish their shopping.
A half-hour later, they found him, both girls standing in front of him with a
bag. "You ready for lunch?"
"Mom’s making us lunch, isn’t she?" Anna’s voice was hopeful and Pacey nodded.
"Yup. I’m supposed to have you back to the apartment in fifteen minutes. So,"
he got up from the bench he’d been sitting on and waggled his eyebrows. "I’ll
race ya back to the car."
They all tied, laughing and breathing hard as they climbed in. Pacey drove them
back to the apartment and pulled up to the front door, leaving the car idling.
Anna gave him a curious glance. "You’re not coming in?"
"Nope, I’ve got some work to do. You guys go in and have fun. I’ll see you both
later."
"Bye, Pacey." Anna waved at him from the back seat before climbing out. Megan
blushed then leaned over and gave his arm a quick hug.
"Bye."
He nodded, slightly awed by the display of affection. "Bye." She was gone in a
door slam and he pulled the car away from the curb, driving purposefully, more
purposefully than before. Reaching his destination, he parked in the darkened
alley and unlocked the warehouse door.
Walking up the stairs, Pacey didn’t need a light, knew the place like the back
of his hand. When he reached the top floor, he unlocked the sliding door and
let himself in, finally illuminating the building. Before him lay perfection.
He walked past a pristine couch, the plastic still covering the cushions. He
moved past bookcases lined with never read editions, their spines untouched. He
walked past a kitchen that sparkled from the scrubbing he’d given it the last
time he’d been there. Moving past all of that, he walked down the short hall
and glanced at the rooms there.
One room was done entirely in blues. Dark and velvety like the night sky at
sea. Pacey walked past it to the next room and peeked in, smiling at the
girlish designs on the walls, the trunk overflowing with clothes to dress up
in, play in, pretend in.
Forcing himself further down the hall, he looked into the next room, bare of
everything except the smell of paint. He’d have to change the color now, have
to change his plans. No longer fit as an office, he walked to the center of the
room and set down the bag he carried with him, unwrapping the package inside.
Lifting the small bear, he pulled the string, filling the quiet home with the
haunting sound of a lonely lullaby.
                                     ~**~
He looks around, seeing things he’s never seen, items that have been beneath
his notice. He sees the bedroom that, until now, has been used for storage
decorated in the soft pastels of a nursery. He sees clothes that he knows were
never Megan’s line the drawers of the dresser that someone has just painted.
Was it her putting her artistic talents back to work?
He leaves the room, heady with the sensation of ownership. It’s his house right
now, free of their subtle influences. With no one home, there is nothing to
stop him from pretending, from defiling. Nothing can stop him from doing
whatever he wants.
He walks into her bedroom, their bedroom, and stares at their bed. He’s seen
her from here; her body sprawled out so sexily. She used to be so shy, so body
conscious, but in her sleep, she has no inhibitions. Moving into the room, he
goes to her dresser and opens the top drawer.
It’s like a river of silk before him, spreading throughout the small space. He
ruffles through the material, finding a color he doesn’t already have. It isn’t
the same, doesn’t smell of her, but he needs the feeling in his hand. He finds
the one he wants and removes it, slipping it into the pocket of his jeans.
As much as he wants her, this room holds little appeal for him. This is the
room she lies in more than any other, the room where he’s most distant from
her. Walking away, he heads toward her office, knowing that there he’ll be able
to feel her. This is her room, his room. Their room. He knows it in the dark,
the way he knows her body.
He wonders if she’s aware that she belongs to him tonight just like the house
does.
Her desk is somewhat messy; she was working before they left tonight, sitting
in her chair dressed in a short, slinky black dress. She’d lifted her leg as if
she knew he was watching, letting the material slip up her thigh, exposing the
lacy garter that held up her stockings. He’d leaned into the wall of the house;
his breath fogging up the window as he ground his jean covered cock into the
siding. He wanted to run his tongue up the length of her leg before sliding his
tongue inside her. He had mumbled the words to her through the glass, breaking
off as her husband had entered the room, asking her if she was ready.
They’d gone. And he’d arrived.
Megan is at another friend’s house tonight, out of his reach. He hates that he
hasn’t seen her since the other night, hopes that she wasn’t afraid of him, of
his less than enthusiastic response. Children could sense those kinds of
things. He remembers that well -- knowing that his father didn’t give a shit
about him.
He sits in her chair, closing his eyes for just a moment. He has pictures of
this too, pictures of her with her fingers buried between her legs,
masturbating to a voice on the phone. He has one of her with her leg propped up
on the desk, almost pornographic. He wants to come every time he even glances
at it.
He leans forward to open the drawer when he hears the telltale sound of voices
growing closer. He’s so in tune with the silence, he doesn’t even need to hear
the key in the lock. Moving from behind her desk, he heads toward the closet.
He curses under his breath. They’ve only been gone an hour. How dare they steal
his time away from him?
"I can’t believe you forgot the tickets," her voice is like honey in his ears,
melting in his brain before coursing through his system directly to his cock.
"After reminding me to get them out for you."
"Well, I didn’t exactly anticipate walking into the room to find you
straightening your stockings." He knows the voice so well, hates it and admires
it in equal measure. "You distracted me."
"And somehow this manages to be all my fault." She chuckles, not really angry.
"I knew it would."
"Well, only because I’m completely blameless."
He peers through the small crack he left behind him, the door ajar enough to
allow a ray of light, allow him to see. Joey is leaning against her desk,
giving his brother a knowing grin. They’re both dressed impeccably, their
evening out a black-tie affair.
"Right." She slides herself up on the top of her desk and crosses her legs,
deliberately sexy. "I’m the evil temptress, is that it?"
"Right now?" Doug’s voice is a growl. "I’d say so."
Joey reaches for the edges of his coat and pulls him closer. "We’re already
late, you know."
"Which means we should get going." Doug backs away, catching her arms and
bringing her with him. Only instead of walking toward the door, he moves around
to her chair, settling into it. "Or we’ll miss the first act."
"Right." Joey sits in his lap, letting her legs dangle over the edge of the
chair. Doug’s hand moves to caress the silky nylon that covers her, pushing her
dress up as he ventures higher on her thigh. "But it’s also incredibly rude to
the other patrons to interrupt the play between acts. Maybe we should wait for
intermission."
"And if we did that, what would we do in the meantime?" Doug’s finger slips
beneath the lace garter and rubs the creamy flesh beneath. "Mrs. Witter?"
"Well," She disentangles herself from Doug and slides off his lap, disappearing
in front of him.
As he watches from the closet, he can hear the faintest sound of a zipper
sliding down in the quiet room. His own zipper is silent, lowered in unison
with his brother’s. He watches in silence, not touching himself, not needing to
yet. He cannot see her, cannot feel her like this. He knows how her mouth
feels, wrapped around willing flesh. Knows how her tongue slips along the
thickness, sucking in.
"That’s not going to last the entire second act." Doug’s voice startles him,
startles her. She stands up, her hand obviously still holding him, still
stroking.
"So what do you suggest? Mr. Witter?"
Doug grins and disengages her hand, standing up himself. Lifting her, he sets
her back on the edge of her desk and parts her legs, leaving his hands on her
silky thighs. His fingers massage her, moving higher, pushing her legs wider so
that he can easily slide between them. "You know, it’s almost indecent to go to
the theater dressed like that."
"You don’t like my choice of attire?" Joey lays back, her dress falling higher.
He’s trained to see her, see whatever she offers to him. The garters ascend her
thighs toward the belt, framing the alabaster skin and the dark patch of curls
that she’s left bare. "You’ve never minded before."
"And what did you have in mind?" Doug’s fingers slip ever higher, stroking her
swollen flesh. "Guiding my hand under your dress during the overture?"
"Something like that." Joey tries to grin as he touches her, losing it as she
moans softly. "You know how much I love it when you get all embarrassed."
"Like you did the first time?" Doug’s voice doesn’t change as he slides his
fingers inside her, his thumb brushing her clit. "When you came to my
apartment, all innocent?"
"I was innocent," she reminds him in a breathy voice. "But you were standing
there in nothing but a tight pair of jeans, and innocent flew right out the
window." She gasps as he slides another finger inside her, pushing hard and
deep. "You went to your bedroom to get dressed..."
Doug removes his fingers slowly, tracing the velvet lips he is leaving behind.
Reaching for his cock, he slides it inside her smoothly, with the ease years of
practice. "And you grabbed my arm." He grabs her hips, pushing into her,
filling her. "And the next thing I knew we were rolling around on my floor."
Joey’s legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even tighter against her. She’s
panting now as Doug continues to push into her, his own words choked with
passion. "And then I was inside you and..."
He shakes his head, coming out of his hypnotic state as Doug breaks off. His
hand is pumping furiously, forcing his cock toward her, straining to be the one
inside her. He hears the soft moaning and closes his eyes, able to bear
anything but the sight of her.
His cock aches, burns. He can feel the need like a living flame inside him,
consuming him. Tears sting his eyes as he hears them, moving together, moving
apart. He wants to be there, in there, in her. He wants to purge the baby from
her womb and fill her with him, own her once more, if only for nine months.
He wants to be there.
He hears them leave the room, the light dying as they flip the switch. He hears
their voices long after they’re gone. He hears them like ghosts in his head,
taunting him. Fucking and loving, lying and cheating. They all melt into one
action until it overwhelms him and his hand finally stops.
In the darkness, he pushes open the closet door and lets the pale light of the
moon fall on his body. His cock is still hard, swollen, purple. It has gone
beyond hurting, beyond pain. So far beyond pleasure. He wants her, wants to
fuck her, but the thought of her, the sight of her, sickens him now. He feels
his erection fading, feels it leave him.
Something has left him, he realizes as he fastens his jeans and heads for his
exit, feeling for the first time like an intruder. His hand brushes the silk in
his pocket and he stops, staring at it, wondering when it had mattered to him.
He leaves by the window, as always. But this time he leaves the wisp of silk on
the floor.
  Pacey opened the door, smiling warmly at Karen. "I’m glad you could come."
"Well, it was short notice, but I’m used to that from you." She moved into the
    apartment, looking around. "You’ve changed the place around a little."
"A few things here and there." He took her coat and draped it over the back of
one of the chairs, glancing around. He’d torn the place apart when he’d gotten
home, fending off the nervous energy that threatened to consume him. "You look
                                   lovely."
             Karen blushed, glancing down at her dress. "Thanks."
   He moved to her side and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her
closer to him. "Really lovely." His breath was warm on her neck, like a sliver
                         of desire. "Sinfully lovely."
     She chuckled softly, pulling away from him. "You’re in a good mood."
   Rage boiled inside him as he smiled, his eyes dark. "Something about the
company I’m keeping, I’m sure." He gestured toward the dining room. "I ordered
 Chinese food if you’re hungry. And I still have that bottle you brought over
                                  last time."
          "Wining me and dining me, Pacey? You must want something."
  He shrugged playfully as he pulled a chair out for her. "Me? I would never
presume that I could win your affections by plying you with food and alcohol."
He sat across from her after she was settled and offered her wine. "You’re not
                                  that easy."
    "How would you know?" She laughed softly. "You’ve never really tried."
                              "I like the chase."
 "You haven’t chased, Pacey." She picked up her wineglass and saluted him with
  it. "You’ve danced with me and pulled away, you’ve kissed me and held back.
                        Never once have you chased me."
                          "So what’s kept you here?"
  She took a sip of her wine, still watching him over the rim. "You’ve got me
                                  intrigued."
                       "With my non-chasing technique?"
  "Not just with that." She set her glass down as he offered her a carton of
                           rice. "But it’s a start."
 Pacey leaned forward, his hand resting on her knee, rubbing the skin beneath
   gently. "That it is." He reclined back, leaving a warm spot on her skin.
    "So, what did you do today, dear?" Her voice held a laugh as she spoke,
        tingeing the words with humor. "Anything intriguing? Exciting?"
                                        
                                     ~**~
 *I watched my brother fuck the woman I love, watched him defile her, watched
              him make her come while I jerked off in the closet.
                                     ~**~
* He just smiled. "Nothing too interesting, I’m afraid. Took some pictures for
the article I’m working on, but that’s about it." He leaned towards her again,
                   his eyes smoky. "Missed you. Of course."
 "Oh, of course." The humor was still there, disbelieving. "That would explain
                     your week-long absence from my life?"
"Are we feeling neglected?" He slid off his chair and knelt before her, kissing
      the inside of her knee. "Have I been shirking my responsibilities?"
 Karen nodded, closing her eyes as Pacey’s kisses drove her skirt higher. "Oh
                                     yes."
"Well," he licked the length of exposed thigh above her stockings. "What would
                   you say to me rectifying that situation?"
Karen’s legs spread apart, allowing him to plant kisses further along her body,
  ending with his tongue rubbing along the silk of her panties. "Pacey," she
                                moaned softly.
 He grinned as he pulled away, smiling up at her. Getting to his feet, he took
  her hand and guided her down the hall toward his bedroom. She followed him
  willingly, her free hand caressing his arm as she pressed against him; her
  breasts warm against his back. He stood just inside the doorway, turning to
                   face her and beckoning her to follow him.
 Walking slowly into the room, Karen looked around, inhaling the scent of him
  that seemed to permeate the air. She watched as he sank down onto the bed,
 moving to the center and leaning against the headboard. "Undress for me?" Her
  pulse raced as she nodded, reaching back to unzip her skirt. "Not that, not
               yet." He shook his head. "Start with your shirt."
 Her grin widened and she slowly began unbuttoning her blouse, making sure to
part the material for him as each fastening came undone. When it was unbuttoned
  completely, she let it slide to the floor, whispering silkily as it did so.
                                 "What next?"
       Pacey ignored her playful tone, focused on her body. "Your bra."
 She unhooked the piece of lingerie, watching him as she did so. His eyes were
black, hazy, almost as if he were staring at something else. She let the straps
  slide down her arms before dangling the fabric to the floor. When he didn’t
              comment, she reached back for her skirt once more.
"Wait." He moved to the end of the bed and grabbed her hips, holding her still.
 His hands glided up her torso until they reached her breasts. He cupped them,
 lifting them slightly, the thumb caught in the hollow between his finger and
thumb. "So beautiful," he breathed before pulling away. "Touch them like that?"
Karen titled her head, curious, as he sat back, still watching her. She copied
            his gesture, lifting her breasts slightly. "Like this?"
                               He nodded, "Yes."
A strange sense of unease shivered through her, but she ignored it as she moved
              a step closer. "But don’t you want to touch them?"
            "I will," He assured her. "You can do the skirt next."
She nodded, releasing her breasts and unzipping her skirt. She shimmied it over
her hips, standing before him in nothing more than her black silk panties and a
                   pair of thigh high stockings. "And now?"
  "I thought they were blue?" He reached out and hooked his finger under the
 elastic of the panties, tugging it away from her body then gently resting it
                      back against. "Blue. Like my eyes."
 "No," she shook her head and started lowering them toward the floor. "Black."
  His brow furrowed as she finished stripping, her nude body inches away from
him. She moved forward, straddling his thighs and sitting on his lap, wrapping
     her arms around his shoulders. "I think it should be your turn now."
  "My turn?" He tried hard to focus on her, her words, her body, but nothing
seemed right. He barely noticed as she slid off his lap and grabbed his hands,
guiding him to his feet. Felt nothing as she stripped him, removing his clothes
            with no grand design, other than to expose him to her.
  "God, you’re so sexy, Pacey." She kissed his chest, licking his nipple. "I
knew, just from looking at you, how much I wanted you, but the clothing...well,
 it didn’t do you justice." Her hands ventured lower, pushing his boxers down
    his legs. She knelt before him, taking his flaccid penis in her hands.
                            "Especially down here."
As her mouth enveloped him, Pacey stood stock still. His body felt nothing, his
 emotions frozen. Closing his eyes, he pictured Joey, her body lithe and lean,
 her fingers buried between her legs. He imagined her beneath him, above him,
   his cock buried inside her, the wet heat surrounding him hers, her body.
Frustration built inside him as Karen’s mouth continued moving along his shaft,
  her lips and tongue teasing him. He screwed his eyelids tighter, thrusting
 toward her, willing the blood through his system. Her hand stroked his thigh,
 rubbing circles on his skin as it inched toward his balls. Cupping them, she
          massaged them gently, scraping them lightly with her nails.
 "Christ." He pushed her away as gently as he could manage, trying to control
 the bitter rage that threatened to spill over once again. His cock was limp,
 pale. Pathetic. He stared down at it furiously before calming down enough to
                          look at Karen. "I’m sorry."
  "Don’t be." She waited as he sat on the bed, them moved beside him, her arm
         around his shoulder. "Maybe I was too bold, huh? Scared it?"
   He ignored her attempt at humor, reaching down and grabbing the offending
flesh. He stroked it a few times, the futility of the gesture quickly becoming
                          apparent. "You should go."
                          "We can try later, Pacey."
                              "No, not tonight."
 "I could just sleep here?" She touched his chest, wanting him to look at her
  instead of simply staring down at his cock. "We could try in the morning."
Finally his eyes met hers and she immediately wished he would look away. "Go."
 She didn’t respond except to get to her feet and gather her clothes, dressing
quickly. He stared at the space beyond her as she did so, not seeming to notice
  when she left the room. She stopped in the doorway and glanced back at him,
            scared, although she wasn’t sure why. "Goodbye, Pacey."
   When the door of the apartment shut behind her, he finally broke from his
  spell, getting to his feet. Never had his body failed him. Never. Never had
  Joey failed him. Never until tonight, after seeing her sprawled out on her
desk, Doug’s cock slamming into her, rutting into her like an animal. Her body
         arching into his as if she loved him, needed him, wanted him.
He made his way into the smaller room across the hall, his eyes locked on her.
  Her long dark hair, her soft hazel eyes, her skin so flawless. Grabbing the
photos of her undressing, he leafed through them, growing angrier and angrier.
    He found his favorite and stared at it, growling at his body’s lack of
  reaction. Reaching down, he began stroking his cock, pumping the flesh with
determination. He was practically jerking it, furious as it refused to respond.
 Tossing the picture away, teeth clenched to keep from screaming he cursed her
  name. Cursed Doug for ruining her for him, cursed them both for their lies,
 their bodies’ lies. He turned to leave the room, freezing at the pictures of
        Megan that lined the other side, freezing at the sight of her.
               His daughter. His beautiful, beautiful daughter.
He sank down to his knees in the sudden rush of light-headedness, still staring
   at his little girl; his hand still wrapped around his now engorged cock.
                                        
                                     ~**~
    He waits. He’s gotten quite good at waiting through all of this. He has
reserves of patience that he supposes he must have developed during his teenage
years, waiting for Joey, waiting for everyone to notice that he wasn’t the same
                                person anymore.
                           Not that it matters now.
No, he knows what matters. He’s figured it out finally, narrowed it down. Last
night showed him that. He learned that he can’t trust her, can’t trust her love
when she’s so willing to spread her legs to any man, even the one she married.
               No. His trust, his love is for someone else now.
    His hand rests on his crotch, fondling the hard flesh beneath the loose
  material of his pants. He wants to reach inside and do it properly, but he
knows he doesn’t have the time, can’t miss this opportunity. Funny how all his
  planning, all his research and careful deduction, took so long to lead him
                      here. It should have been obvious.
 He gives in slightly, unzipping his fly. He can feel himself better now, feel
the hardness through the thin material of his boxers. Love. Before last night,
  he’d forgotten that this is how it feels, how it makes him feel. His thumb
                     brushes the wet stain that leaks out.
                        He’s so hard. So fucking hard.
   He looks into the passenger’s seat and stares at her picture. He sees her
 mother in her, he can’t help that. He’s been staring at her for so long that
  she’s ingrained in his mind. But now he sees her own beauty, what makes her
                    uniquely beautiful. What makes her his.
 His balls are tight and he’s close to coming. He doesn’t want to lose control
                   yet; not when there’s so much to be done.
    It’s all so clear to him now! How did it take so long to become clear?
 He could finish so easily, staring at her. He can imagine her soft skin, her
 soft voice. Everything about her is soft. She’s so soft, and it makes him so
 hard, so hot. It takes all his will to release his cock, trap it back inside
  his pants. He wants to place her picture on the steering wheel and pump his
 shaft until the temptation to touch her is gone. He wants her to be with him.
              She belongs to him. She’s his daughter, after all.
                                        
                                     ~**~
It was almost laughable that it’s the same cop, Pacey decided as he watched the
officer climb out of his car; his gaze focused on Pacey’s. Closing his eyes for
  a brief moment, Pacey gathered the papers sitting on the passenger’s seat,
  shoving them along with the pictures into his briefcase. He started to roll
down his window, air the car out some before he approached when another police
                           car pulled up behind his.
   Ignoring the panic that threatened to rise inside him, Pacey instead just
 watched the scene from his car, not moving. He almost laughed as Doug climbed
out of the second car, walking toward the first. Nothing to see, Pacey decided,
           turning the bulk of his attention back to Megan’s school.
The cop gestured, catching his eye again. Pacey sighed, calming his irritation.
     He watched his brother walk forward a little, laughing. Obviously the
 conversation wasn’t about him. It was about schools and daughters and being a
cop, pounding a beat, all that other melodramatic crap that Dougie bought into
                     when he’d signed up for his uniform.
                                   Cop talk.
 That was fine, it allowed Pacey to do what he’d come there for. The bell rang
and he felt the surge go through him. This was what it was all about, what he’d
 been waiting for. Blood pounded through his body, surging through him, making
his body feel alive. He opened his door, casting a quick glance back at the two
                                  policemen.
They were still caught up, laughing. Getting out of his car, Pacey stood beside
   it, watching for Megan. Anna was out sick today, so this was his perfect
 opportunity. Perhaps his only opportunity. He saw her come through the doors,
  talking with some friend he didn’t know. He waved to her, catching her eye.
A smile lit up Megan’s face and she waved back, heading in his direction. Pride
    swelled through Pacey as he watched her walk willingly to him, not even
          noticing Doug as the two cops begin walking forward. "Hi."
          "Hi, Pacey." She smiled widely. "What are you doing here?"
   "Well, I was just in the neighborhood and I thought I’d stop by. You left
  something of yours in my car the other day, and I wanted to drop it off for
                                     you."
                                   "I did?"
"Yeah," he assured her as he sat in the driver’s seat. He glanced back at Doug,
  still walking forward, smiling as he realized his brother had yet to notice
 him, notice Megan. Some father. "At least I think it’s yours. Maybe you could
                            come here and tell me?"
 Megan stepped closer, still smiling, still unsuspecting. Trusting him. Like a
                        child should trust her father.
                                        
                                     ~**~
  He sees the light in her eyes as he talks to her, knows that she’s focused
 completely on him. The man she thinks is her father is barely a hundred feet
   away and yet she’s enraptured with him. She knows, somehow she must know.
Still, it’s a danger with him here; a danger that makes his blood beat faster,
 harder. His head is swimming, but he forces himself to stay in control, knows
that this is the most important thing in his life. Now that his course is laid
     out in front of him, he has no choice but to follow through with it.
 He laughs and jokes with her, promising her something of hers was left in his
 car. He’s saved it just for her; he wants her to have it back. It’s something
 important, something that will make her happy. He sees her face lights up and
 it sends another rush of blood to his cock. Making her happy is what he wants
                          to do. What he needs to do.
  He guides her to his car, sitting in the driver’s seat. He sees the officer
  that had bothered him the other day start walking with Doug, heading in his
direction. He sees them come and, for a moment, freezes. His smile is still on
                his face and he knows that his moment has come.
 Moments like this are what life is made for. He understand these moments, has
   had enough of them. And now, this one, this is the one that matters. He’s
 chosen. And all he has to do now is announce his choice to the world. Looking
 past Megan to the opposite sidewalk, he sees both Doug and the other officer
 look up, see him, see her. The look of shock on Doug’s face makes him smile.
He grabs Megan finally, trying not to give in to the feeling of touching her as
he pulls her across his body and sets her in the passenger seat. He pulls away
   from the curb before Doug can speak, grabbing the seatbelt and jerking it
                  across Megan’s body, securing her in place
 He glances at her and smiles, unaware of the burning flames in his eyes. She
  stares back at him, her own eyes wide with something...fear? Excitement? He
 doesn’t know, and as her scent fills the car, fills his nostrils, he realizes
                               he doesn’t care.
                                        
                                     ~**~
"Please, Pacey, I’m supposed to meet my daddy at school. You’re not supposed to
pick me up today. Anna’s not even here. She’s out sick. Please?" Her eyes were
            wide with fear, her voice shaking. "Just take me home?"
    "It’s okay, Megan. Really. I’m just going to take you somewhere safe."
 "Home is safe. I shouldn’t be with you, I shouldn’t have..." tears filled her
 eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she tried to talk. "I just want to go home
                       and be with my mommy and daddy."
  "You can’t do that though, don’t you see?" Pacey didn’t look away from the
road, as much as he ached to comfort her. His eyes stayed on the asphalt except
 when he glanced back, looking for the flashing lights that would tell him how
               far behind him Doug was. "He’s not your father."
          "Please..." She begged quietly, her voice milky with tears.
"You see, they’ve been lying to you all along. They’ve been telling you lies so
  you wouldn't love me, but I know you love me, because I can see it in your
                     eyes. You love me, don’t you, Megan?"
                        "I’m scared, Pacey. Please..."
 "I promise you, you don’t have anything to be afraid of." The distant wail of
 sirens filled the afternoon air. "I would never hurt you, Megan. I love you.
                   Daddies always love their little girls."
    She seemed to shrink into her seat at his words, her fear like another
                 passenger in the car. "You’re not my daddy."
 He bit back his fury, reminding himself that it wasn’t her fault. Digging his
nails into his thigh, he spared her a glance, smiling. "I am, sweetie. Your mom
  and I, we’re your real parents. Doug is just there, just her husband." His
voice was soft, lilting, trying to seduce her with his words as he’d done to so
  many women before. "But you’ll see, when this is all said and done, you’ll
                                 understand."
"I don’t want to understand. I want to go home to my mommy and my real daddy! I
  don’t like you." She struggled with her seat belt, trying to unhook it with
 trembling hands. "You’re a liar and... And you’re mean and..." She gave into
her tears, collapsing back against the seat, still fumbling with the belt. "And
                              I want to go home."
 "You’ll be home soon, honey," Pacey promised, not looking back, knowing that
somehow everything would work out for the best. "Pretty soon you’ll be home and
 you’ll see. You’ll see what a great daddy I am." His voice cracked slightly,
   the need for her to understand, the verge of desperation seeping through.
                     "You’ll see what you’ve been missing.
                                        
                                     ~**~
He reaches over to reassure her, not even noticing as she shrinks away from his
  touch. He can still reach her, still feel her. Her scent pervades the car,
 filling it, filling him. His hand settles in her dark hair, feeling the thick
    strands as he rubs them. They’re as silky as they look, as silky as he
                     remembers. As silky as her mother’s.
  She jerks her head away, pulling back against the car door, so he takes his
 hand away for a moment. But the need, the temptation is almost too much, more
than he can handle. He should have found relief before he started this, before
     it got to this point where relief is all that he can wish for, want.
   His hand drops down, sitting on the edge of her seat. She stares at it in
  horror as if it is some sort of creature, unknown, uncertain. He moves it,
brushing her leg with his fingers and she lets loose a small scream. He closes
 his eyes for a second, letting the sound wash over him, letting it fill him,
               letting it send the shivers of blood racing down.
   His cock is hard. Raging, pulsing, aching, hurting. He hates her. Not his
daughter, but her mother. Hates her for driving him to this moment, this place.
 Hates her for making him this man. He knows, somewhere inside him, that this
             isn’t the man he wants to be, the man he used to be.
                  He’d said it once before. She wrecked him.
  Deliberately and with malice. She took everything he wanted and desired and
   made it irresistible. Then she took it away from him. And now, he has the
 opportunity to reclaim it all, reclaim his life. With this one, small, simple
                     act, he can reclaim it all. Rebuild.
  He looks over at Megan, not caring about the police that can’t be that far
behind him now. His hand is on her thigh, resting there. Her eyes are wide with
         shock and she’s screaming, although he can’t hear her cries.
He pulls off the road into the alley he chose long ago. He unhooks her seatbelt
 and pulls her onto his lap, almost groaning as her body touches his. He holds
   his hand over her mouth, quieting her as he moves into the warehouse he’s
owned, he’s prepared. Her room is upstairs, everything is upstairs. Their life
     is upstairs; they just have to make their way upward to it. Reach it.
  He locks the door behind them, setting her down near the wall. She’s still
 crying, still screaming. Tears streak her face, her cheeks mottled with them,
her eyes puffy and red. She’s beautiful, his little girl. He kneels before her
and touches her face, wipes away her tears. For each that he brushes away with
                    his thumb, it seems more cascade down.
He wants to reassure her, quiet her. It’s going to be so beautiful, like she’s
 beautiful. He brushes her cheeks and leans in. This time he hears her scream,
  louder and louder as he gets closer. He kisses her forehead and a low groan
                                 escapes him.
                              And the need grows.
                                        
                                     ~**~
Pacey pulled away from Megan and moved to the small windows near the stairwell.
 The sound of sirens grew louder and the lights began to move through the thin
pane of glass. He hadn’t planned on being found out so soon, hadn’t planned on
     everything going quite so wrong, but he’d done what he needed to do.
Sitting on the bottom stair, he looked over at Megan, who had curled up into a
 ball, arms wrapped around her legs, rocking herself as she cried. "You don’t
  need to cry. It’s going to be all right." She ignored him, still crying. He
   stared at her, willing the ache in his cock to go away. Reason seemed so
 tentative, so out of reach when he was near her, like this. "I won’t let them
                                  hurt you."
"They won’t hurt me!" She cried out the words, her voice faltering. "They love
     me. My mommy and daddy love me and they won’t let you do this to me."
 "You don’t understand," he spoke softly, slowly as he stood, moving closer to
 her. She curled up even tighter, a small bundle of cloth and gangly limbs. "I
 am your daddy. He’s not. He’s a liar. They’re both liars. They’ve lied to you
                             from the beginning."
"No!" She grabbed a piece of a brick that lay on the floor and threw it at him,
  missing him completely. "You’re a liar. You’re a liar and a bad man. And my
                            daddy will catch you."
"Right," Pacey chuckled and squatted down in front of her, trying not to smile.
 "You said he catches all the bad men, didn’t you? But I’m not bad, Megan. I’m
             good. And I’m going to be a very good father to you."
  "You’re bad and stupid and evil and I hate you." She started screaming once
  again, her voice breaking from time to time. She grabbed handfuls of dirt,
brick and dust, anything she could reach, throwing them in his face, beating at
                                   his body.
  Pacey scooped her up in his arm, holding her close to him. "No, you’ll see.
It’ll be perfect." He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her to his body as
he stepped close to the wall. She was trapped there now, the wall and his body
                       holding her still. "You’ll see."
                                        
                                     ~**~
  Her body is pressed against his, her head buried in his neck. He hears the
words she throws at him as her only defense, and they’re like knives. He hears
 Joey’s voice, Joey’s lies in every word. She’s done this, ruined everything,
              but he’ll make it better. He’ll make it all better.
One hand holds the back of her neck and the other is wrapped around her waist.
   She’s so close and so warm, shaking from fear like he’s shaking from the
 thrill, the excitement. He inhales her, the subtle scent that has haunted him
 since she was a baby, since the first moment he held her. Her hair is in his
face, shadowing him as he mutters her name over and over into the soft skin of
      her neck. "You’re my baby," he reminds her, tells her, assures her.
    Her words, her cries don’t matter. She just doesn’t understand. She’ll
                            understand soon enough.
She’s struggling now, trying to get away from him, but the brick wall holds her
  in place. It doesn’t hold her still though, and he feels her movements like
 they’re caresses, feels her frantic fear like it’s an aphrodisiac. He pushes
her harder against the wall, hearing the rasp of brick against his jeans as he
              grinds his hips, his cock, into the rough surface.
 His hand slides under her bottom, lifting her up higher, giving him more room
   to move, to thrust. It hurts so bad, so much. He feels like he’s going to
 explode, like someone has lit a match in his blood. Grunting and groaning, he
  whispers her name again and again. She’s crying, screaming, begging him to
  stop, begging for her daddy. Each sound sends him higher, makes him harder.
  He doesn’t hear the shot that shatters the lock, doesn’t hear the door slam
   open, doesn’t hear the shouts, the fear. All he hears is the soft sigh of
  relief in his daughter’s voice, relief as she sees Doug, calls out to him,
                    sounds so happy as she calls him daddy.
  He’s suffocating in her hair, drowning in her scent as he comes. His aching
 cock explodes hard and fast and thick, sucking his strength as her cry of joy
                              echoes in his ears.
                                        
                                     ~**~
 Pacey turned slowly, facing the onslaught of police officers that now filled
 the room. Doug stood in front of him, both hands holding the butt of his gun,
   trying to stop its shaking. Fear, disbelief and disappointment marred his
                           usually perfect features.
              The disappointment was just like going home again.
Holding Megan tightly in his arms, he stared flatly at Doug, shaking his head.
                           "You’re too late, Doug."
 Fear shot through Doug as he stared at him, his voice low and dangerous. "Too
late for what, Pacey?" His eyes scanned Megan, noting that she was still fully
 dressed, looked untouched. The painful thought that this was perhaps not the
 first time Pacey had been alone with her sent shivers of terror through him.
              "She wants to be with me, she knows the truth now."
     "She knows that you’re about one second from being thrown in jail for
 kidnapping? Is that the truth she knows, Pacey? Because that’s the only truth
here, that’s the one that’s staring you in the face, little brother." His tone
                 was flat, despite his fear. Calm, controlled.
Pacey shook his head, trying to hold Megan’s struggling form. "You sound like a
                                     cop."
                                 "I am a cop."
  "And I thought you were her father." Pacey stroked her dark hair. "A father
   wouldn’t be standing there so calmly, so self-assured. A father would be
   shaking, hurting, desperate for his daughter. You’re not desperate, Doug.
                    You’re just a cop. Like Dad was a cop."
  "Let her go, Pacey." Doug took another step forward, ignoring the waves of
 other officers that surrounded him, watching the exchange curiously. "Let her
 go." He held out his hand to Megan, praying the gun wouldn't shake. "Come to
                              Daddy, sweetheart."
                          "She’s where she belongs."
 Megan struggled in earnest, Doug’s words adding fire to her desire to escape
Pacey’s grip. Using her hands and feet, she flailed against him, finally making
an impact as her foot met with his crotch. As Pacey grunted, his arms loosened
and she shoved away from him. Landing on the floor, she scrambled back, rushing
                             to hide behind Doug.
 As soon as he felt her arm wrap around his leg, Doug let himself breathe. He
 holstered his gun, one arm reaching back to stroke his daughter’s hair. "It’s
  okay, Sweetie. He can’t touch you again." He unhooked her arm as one of the
 medics came to take her away, assuring her it was okay. Stepping forward, he
 faced his brother, wondering what had happened to the person that he thought
             he’d known. "What the hell is wrong with you, Pacey?"
 Megan’s soft sobs seemed to fill the silent air around them as she was taken
  away from the two men. Her quiet voice called out, tearfully asking for her
  Daddy. Doug steeled himself not to hear her, not yet, as Pacey took a step
                                   forward.
"Freeze." Doug’s voice was as cold as the word, harsh and allowing no argument.
 "You’re in enough trouble as it is, Pacey. You take one more step toward her
                         and you’re making it worse."
"You always did get off on telling me what to do," Pacey smirked as he stepped
forward, his punch catching Doug by surprise. Recovering quickly, Doug slammed
  him against the wall, forcing his legs apart and pushing his face into the
                                    brick.
  He snapped the cuffs on one wrist before jerking Pacey’s other arm back and
locking it up as well. With a hard push against the back of his brother’s head,
  Doug’s voice finally broke, all of his fear and anger flooding out of him.
   "Better than getting off on little girls." He snarled the words before he
stepped back, allowing another officer to lead Pacey to the car. "Book him for
kidnapping," he stated, his fingers brushing the skin Pacey’s fist had bruised.
                         "And assaulting an officer."
                                     ~**~
   Sweet is the taste of the skin of her thighs, rolling over the tip of his
 tongue. Sour is the hatred that bubbles up in his stomach now as he looks at
her. She drove him to this. Does he hate her? He didn’t think he has it in him.
    Always thought that, if he thought of her at all, it would be with fond
                                   memories.
Instead, he thinks of her and retches, his stomach twisting in tight knots that
 seem to curl like fingers of acrimony around his heart. He never knew he had
  this capacity to hate her, to despise something so beautiful. Never knew he
                              could be so bitter.
 That’s what he is. He’s realized it now. Standing here, waiting for it all to
  end, he realizes that that’s what it has all come down to. He’s bitter and
   angry. He hates her and loves her. She’s broken him in ways he never knew
 possible, driven him to the edge of madness then sent him tumbling over with
                     her lies. Even her body lies to him.
 He held it all together for so long. It’s been seven years since he found out
the truth, seven years since he found out how much betrayal she was capable of.
  It all started out so small, so simple. A thought here or there that would
 remind him of what she’d done. He’d hear gossip or news about someone and it
  would remind him of the woman he loved who ripped his heart from his chest
                              without a thought.
For two years he dealt with it, and handled it. And then, five years ago, he’d
started drinking; losing the world in an amber haze that never quite managed to
  block out the realities of what his life had become. He sold his business,
unwilling to deal with the outside world any longer. And then, like a recurring
              nightmare, his family had come back into his life.
His mother wrote him a letter, telling him all about his brother’s family, how
grown up their little girl was getting, how beautiful she was, how she had her
father’s eyes. Telling him how much she wished he could get to know his niece.
                                  His niece.
  Those two words had hit him like anvils. He could picture her as she’d been
when he’d seen her, so small and fragile, those damn blue eyes staring back at
him. And now his mother had provided photographic evidence of how she’d grown,
 how beautiful she truly was becoming. He stared at those pictures for hours,
looking into her eyes. Those pictures that still adorned his walls, those eyes
      that stared at him adoringly, as if she knew, as if she loved him.
 At that point, reality had slipped away. He hired a detective to find them –
 Doug, Joey and Megan. He paid a small fortune to find out everything he could
about their lives. They’d moved away from Capeside after Doug had been offered
 a job with a new police force. Joey was still an accountant, merely managing
 her business from their new home. And Megan...Megan was growing up, going to
 school, experiencing all sorts of things that he would never get to see, hear
                               or take part in.
Two years ago, he’d hired a different detective to find one of Megan’s friends.
 He sold his house and rented an apartment just down the hall from her and her
single mother. Using the Witter charm, he’d ingratiated himself into the lives
 of Anna and her mother, becoming friends with them and, by extension, Anna’s
                              best friend, Megan.
That was a year ago. He moved in, settled down. He didn’t work; living off the
money he’d invested. Instead he watched, memorized, waited. He watched Joey, he
 watched Megan. He lived his life as if he were completely normal, leaving in
the morning, coming home at night. He had a girlfriend, he had a lover. He had
                  everything he needed. Everything he wanted.
                             Except his daughter.
   And now, the pieces of the life he’d built, borrowed and stolen are lying
 scattered at his feet. He’s behind bars, staring at the woman who ruined his
 life. His daughter is somewhere beyond the room, cowering in fear, afraid of
  the look in his eyes, afraid of the sound of his voice, afraid of him. His
brother simply stares at him with undisguised disgust and fury, and Joey can’t
                                meet his gaze.
  She did this. She created this monster he’s become. And now, just as she’s
   created him, he’s going to destroy her. Her dreams, her life, her family.
                  It almost scares him that it’s all so easy.
                                        
                                     ~**~
 "I wondered how long it would take. You’d think you’d be in there with Megan,
but you had to see me, didn’t you?" Pacey stared at Joey through the bars that
separated them, a small smile on his face. "It’s okay," he assured her, seeing
        the tears that stood in her eyes. "It’s this thing between us."
"There’s nothing between us, Pacey." Joey’s voice trembled, her tears slipping
   from the corners of her eyes to trail down her cheeks. "There hasn’t been
                        anything between us for years."
"Except Megan." He whispered the words, his voice silky. "You can’t deny that,
         Joey. No husband, no marriage, no lies can change that fact."
"Why did you do this, Pacey? Why?" Her eyes searched his, imploring him for an
                answer. "What could you possibly hope to gain?"
  "She’s my daughter, Joey." He shrugged as if that were answer enough. "She
          deserves to know the truth. She deserves the right family."
  "And that’s you?" Her laughter was tinged with hysteria. "You sick son of a
 bitch. You took her. Stole her, Pacey. And you think that she’s going to love
                                     you."
 "She does love me." His voice brooked no argument. "She’s spent weeks getting
 to know me, to trust me, to love me. Your life of lies can’t change what she
                                 and I built."
 "Yeah?" Joey glared at him, her own anger challenging the cool force of his.
 "If she loves you, why is she in the next room crying? Asking someone to tell
      her why you scared her, why you said such horrible things to her?"
"Because you lied!" he practically shouted the words, forcing himself away from
the wall so that he was standing directly in front of her, only the cool metal
 separating them. His eyes burned bright, feverish, mad. "You made her believe
so many lies, forced them down her throat until she had no choice. You lied so
        that you could live with yourself, Joey. But I know the truth."
                        "And what is the truth, Pacey?"
  This was the Joey he loved, the fire that burned within her flaring to the
surface unhindered. "You know. Don’t try and deny it, Joey." He leaned in, his
face so close. She stared at him, searching for the man she’d once loved. "You
  feel my eyes on you every night. You feel me burn for you. You feel my cock
penetrate you when you’re fingering yourself in your office. You feel me slide
inside your hot pussy and fuck you until you come, screaming my name. You love
                                     me."
 "You disgust me." She stepped back, her face red. "You’ve been spying on me?"
     "I know your life better than you know it, Joey." He smiled, his face
 contorting in a mockery of happiness. "I know what you’re wearing under those
 jeans. I know how you touch yourself; I know how you hold your breasts up for
me to examine every night. I know the way you like to fuck. I know the way you
                          like to come. I know you."
                  "You don’t know anything about me, Pacey."
   He laughed, her shaky voice holding no strength. "I know you. And I know
                                    Megan."
  "Did you touch her?" Suddenly the shaking was gone; her body was stiff with
 fury, fear. Mothering instinct like an aura around her. "If you touched her,
Pacey, if you so much as laid a hand on my daughter, I swear to God, I’ll kill
                                     you."
"Her hair is soft like yours, Joey. She reminds me so much of you, even though
  she’s got my eyes." He licked his lips as he moved closer, bending his head
 until he could look into her eyes. "She’s going to be so beautiful, just like
                                   her mom."
"Did you touch her?" She grabbed the bars to stop her hands from touching him,
 strangling him, wringing the truth from him. "Did you? Pacey, did you hurt my
                                    baby?"
 He looked past her, aware that they were no longer alone. Doug stood back in
the shadows, listening to them. "Your baby, Jo?" He smiled, triumphant. "That’s
what it all comes down to, doesn’t it? It all comes down to whose baby she is."
   "Did you hurt her?" She was begging now, crying. Weak. He hated her weak.
 "Would your precious, perfect world crumble, Joey? Would it all fall apart if
the truth came out? The truth will come out now, you know that, right? It’s all
going to come out. All the lies you spoke, all the lies your body told. You’re
going to have to sit up there on the stand and admit to your loving husband..."
"What, Pacey? That you willingly donated sperm?" Doug’s voice grew louder as he
walked closer, wrapping his arm around Joey’s shaking shoulders. He leaned into
 her, inhaling her soft scent as he whispered to her softly. "She’s okay. The
             doctor just finished the exam. He didn’t touch her."
     "Oh..." Joey sobbed, letting Doug envelop her in a hug. "Thank God."
"Not that she’s not going to need some recovery time." Blue eyes met blue eyes.
    "He fucked her over quite nicely, even if he didn’t do anything else."
  "Your precious concern is so sweet, Doug. Especially when you consider the
                                    truth."
 "Like I said before, Pace, what truth would that be? That you donated sperm?"
"That I made love to your wife. That I’m Megan’s father." Pacey looked at Joey.
 "She and I spent a night together making love for hours. She wrapped her legs
  around me and let me slide inside her; she sucked my cock until I wanted to
explode. She opened her legs for me so that I could fuck her like you obviously
                                    can’t."
"You had sex with Joey," Doug agreed calmly. "And biologically, you are Megan’s
father. But that doesn’t mean anything, Pacey. All it means is that you managed
to serve one useful purpose before you threw your fucking life away." Releasing
  Joey, he moved closer to his brother. "You’re going to prison. If I have to
  spend every last minute of my life assuring it, you’re ass is going to stay
  behind bars. You may think that you have some right here, that because you
 managed not to screw up sex with Joey, you’ve got some claim to our daughter.
                                You’re wrong."
                      "She’s my daughter. Our daughter."
 "Really? And can you prove that? You think a DNA test would confirm anything
conclusively? We’re brothers, Pacey. And, in case you hadn’t heard, it’s not as
             if Joey and I couldn’t have done the job ourselves."
                             "I’m Megan’s father."
 "No, Pace." Doug shook his head. "Just like Joey said when she got home from
  seeing you, telling you that it was possible that you were Megan’s father,
you’re nothing. Not to me, not to her and especially not to Megan." He put his
arm around Joey once more and turned her around, guiding her away from Pacey’s
           cell. "Come on, Jo. Let’s go see our little girl, okay?"
  She nodded, looking back over her shoulder once with teary eyes. "What did
            this, Doug? What made him like this? What changed him?"
          "I don’t know, Jo. And I don’t know that I want to either."
                                     ~**~
  He remembers it now, what brought him to this point, poised on the verge of
hell. Before the booze and the drinking, before women became nothing more than
 virgins or whores in his mind, before he embraced madness, for surely that’s
                               what this now is.
 Madness is his only refuge now, he knows this. Nothing can keep him from it.
  The bars that imprison him are just temporary, but the permanent ones will
  come. There will be the obligation of a trial, which will dredge up all the
buried history. Buried, but never deep enough. And the conclusion is foregone.
  There is too much evidence. Too many witnesses, too many spectators to his
                            monumental corruption.
 Perhaps he is safer here, although not safe from his memories any longer. Not
                       now, now he remembers everything.
He’d tried to rebuild his life after Joey shook the foundations of it. Tried to
 put it all back together without looking back to Capeside, wondering what was
going on in the life of his child. He’d met someone. Beautiful and smart, funny
  and lovely. He had started to think that it would all work out, it would be
 perfect. He could put everything in the past away and just move on with her,
        the two of them forming a family, the family he couldn’t have.
And then one day after work, he’d been driving home and he’d seen her. She was
 standing outside of her doctor’s office, leaning on one of her friends as she
  helped her to her car. Fear had clenched his heart in its icy grip and he’d
        hurried home, wanting to know what was wrong, what he could do.
 But when she’d come home and he’d questioned her, she had gazed into his eyes
and told him the truth. She’d had an abortion, gotten rid of his child, a child
 she desperately didn’t want. A child he desperately did. That had broken him,
   been his downfall. The drinking had started then, followed quickly by the
                           letters from his mother.
 Doug. Joey. Megan. All wrapped up in one tidy package. Tales of joy and bliss
  on the homefront leaving him with nothing. So it began, this process of his
  destruction. Began and ended right where it all started. He’d confessed his
 love to his brother in a jail cell years before and now he’d see his brother
                          claim that love as his own.
  He’s finished. No defense can save him from the darkest hole they can find.
 They’ll find the pictures and he’ll be done. He is done. He looks down at his
   feet, not surprised any longer by the insistent throbbing in his cock. It
shames him, thinking of the pictures, thinking of her. She’s innocent, and he’s
 tried to make her guilty. She’s a child. His child. And maybe she’ll be safe
            from him when he’s locked away, denied all his rights.
 Madmen don’t need rights, he remembers as he moves to the cot that lines the
 wall, refusing to give in to the ache between his legs. They don’t need them.
 His hand drifts down and he rubs himself absently through the thin material,
                    his mind drifting. They make their own.
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