33
Summer
Eric comes back to the apartment a few hours later and I wonder what more he did with Ted.
Aiden waited with me in the living room. Neither of us spoke but he sat with me while I curled up on the sofa.
I only straighten when Eric walks inside.
When the two see each other, they speak in Russian and Aiden dips his head toward me.
“Goodnight,” he says.
“Goodnight and thank you,” I reply.
“My pleasure.”
He leaves and when Eric turns to face me, I rush over to him and throw myself into his arms.
“I can’t thank you enough,” I say, holding back tears. These are different tears. “How did you get him.”
“I did what I did best,” he replies, and I pull away slightly to gaze up at him. “I found out his dirty secrets and gave him the option of exposing him or him doing it himself. Either way he was dead and the only option he ever had was to die fast or slow. One more monster to go, Summer.”
I stand on the tips of my toes and kiss him.
It doesn’t take much for the kiss to turn into the hot ravenous kisses I’ve grown accustomed to getting from this man.
He scoops me up and carries me into his room and that’s where he devours me.
As the hard length of his cock slams into my body I feel like I belong to him. Fire and passion consume us, but there’s something more in his touch that holds that spark of possession I felt weeks ago. I realize then it’s because he’s making love to me. I’ve never made love before, and tonight is one night I won’t forget as long as I live.
* * *
When I wake the next morning, I lay in Eric’s arms for a while just savoring the feel of him holding me.
He’s still asleep, which is different because usually he’s the one watching me sleep. Instead, I’m watching him.
I’m cocooned against his chest, resting my head on solid, corded muscles and I feel like a new woman.
It’s like when I opened my eyes, I was somebody else and all the terrible things that happened didn’t happen. All the terrible things except Scarlett.
I want to call her and tell her what happened to Ted. If she were alive, I know she would have seen the news last night and my phone would be ringing nonstop.
Thinking of her moves me to slip out of Eric’s arms, careful not to wake him.
I pull on one of my nightshirts I left in here and head back into my room.
When I get there, I reach for the box with her things for the play. I haven’t looked at the things in there since I packed them. They’re all what she’d call her work stuff. There’s a tape recorder and her copy of the script.
I’d seen the little tape inside when I packed it, but I was worried about how I’d feel hearing her voice. The last time I heard her voice was on the message she left me telling me she was on in Monaco. I got that message two days after she died.
I press play and when her voice comes on reading lines from the play no words on earth can describe how much I miss her, but there’s something inside me that feels comforted for hearing her talking. It’s like when she’d call me, and we’d do lines.
There’s a section where she stumbles over the lines and I can just imagine the face she makes.
“Ughh, Summer I wish you were here,” she suddenly says and my attention breaks. “Dammit I forgot the lines. You never forget lines. You channel your inner Vivien Leigh and I channel my inner you.” She starts laughing and I shake my head like we’re in the same room.
“Scarlett you were amazing,” I mutter to myself.