Chapter 22: A Dark Month

A Dark Month

Friday April 25

Everyone was awake early. They were packed and ready to leave by 7:00. Melody had heard from her dad last night. Not knowing what time Penny would be released from the hospital, the charter flight would be ready to leave any time after seven a.m.

They checked out and thanked the manager for a mostly exceptional stay. Matt told him that they didn’t hold the actions of one employee against the hotel. The police sergeant had let him know that the head guy of the kidnapping ring had an insider in five of the most luxurious hotels. Aside from kidnapping wealthy people for ransom, they had just started watching for beautiful, teenage girls to kidnap and sell as sex slaves.

The vans met the group in front of the hotel and a small army of bellhops assisted with the luggage. Once the luggage was dropped off at the chartered plane so the flight crew could load it, the group went to breakfast, making sure to get food to take to Penny and the new bodyguard.

After breakfast, one of the vans took Melody and Trina, accompanied by Matt and Raven, to the hospital. Everyone else crowded into the remaining van and headed back to the airport. One of the consulate staff walked them through customs and escorted them to the plane.

Penny was already in a wheelchair, eager to escape the hospital, even though Matt could see that she was still run down. The breakfast they brought cheered her up. Melody tried to pay the bill with one of her father’s credit cards but learned that the hotel had already covered it.

The consulate official they had met the previous evening returned the guns the police had taken. “They did ballistics tests in case there are any questions, but the hotel’s security videos showed everything that happened from four different angles,” he explained.

“By the way, the Senator would like to see your sandal,” he chuckled to Matt, who was still wearing the same sandals. He’d jury-rigged a bandage over the hole.

At 9:30, they were in the air headed north and Grand Cayman Island was almost invisible behind them. The charter plane was roomy and the seats were even better than the ones in first class on the flight down.

As soon as the plane reached altitude and the pilot turned off the seatbelt sign, Matt had his seat reclined. He was relaxing, clearing his mind so he’d be ready to meet a Senator in a couple of hours. Then someone grabbed his hand. Opening his eyes, it was Melody with Raven beside her.

“C’mon,” Melody insisted as she tugged at his hand. “The hostess made me a new drink I haven’t tried before. It’s called a Mile-High Club. Raven wants to try it too,” she said, grinning.

As Matt unbuckled his seatbelt, he saw his parents and sisters laughing at him. Brian and Charlie looked envious. Melody led him to the small bedroom at the rear of the passenger compartment. It held a king-sized bed and had hooks over the bed to hang IVs from. There were small cabinets lining the walls on both sides of the bed that held all kinds of medical monitors and equipment.

“Come to keep me company?” Penny asked.

“Once we get to join the mile-high club,” Melody replied with a grin. Even before the door closed, she was stripping. Raven was only one piece of clothing behind her.

After the two girls were officially members of the mile high club, even Penny got to join. Melody had her ready for Matt to slide into and they did the slip and slide gently for a few minutes. Since Matt had already cum twice, he wasn’t worried about a third time, just making Penny happy. He dressed when they finished and left Melody and Raven still enjoying each other.

Matt sat next to Denise, bookending her between him and Sue.

“I envy the way your family accepts your lifestyle,” Denise sighed. “My dad still gets pissed at me when I visit you guys because he knows I’ll be with Sue again. I don’t know how much longer I can put up with it.”

“So don’t put up with it. The next time he gives you grief about it, tell him that you consider it sexual harassment. Warn him that if he does it again, you’ll consider his actions to be a violation of your agreement to return home to work with him.”

“I’d love to, believe me. If I did, the business would fail. While my dad is a pain in the ass, he’s still my dad. It would affect Mom, too, and I don’t want to do that to her.

“Is the business doing that poorly?” Matt queried.

“Not entirely, but Dad needs someone there to drag him, kicking and screaming, into this century. I just installed the first computers last June. The closest thing he had to computers were electric calculators they used for everything. They’re still using an old punch-style time clock.

“Between what it cost to send me to college and what I spent upgrading the business with computers, they don’t have enough to hire someone that’s qualified to replace me.”

“If you hadn’t gone to college could he have afforded to hire someone else to help run the place?”

“Yes, but it’s a little late for that,” she replied sullenly.

“When you get home, I want you to think about three things. First, figure out what you really want to do with your life. Is there a big company you’d like to work for? Would you prefer going into business for yourself? If you choose going into business for yourself, I want you to write up a detailed business plan like you’d take to the bank when you apply for a loan to start the business. Regardless of what you decide, write it down, including one-year, three-year, five-year, and ten-year goals.

“Once you’ve come to grips with your work life, decide what you want to do with your personal life. Write that down, too. Make sure your personal life takes into consideration the demands of your work life and vice-versa.

“Third, figure out how much your college education cost. It doesn’t have to be exact. Aside from tuition and books, add room and board. You should also include parking and any spending money your dad sent you. When you’ve accomplished those three things, call me.”

“What good will that do?” she asked.

“If I see what I expect, it could do a lot of good.”

“What do you expect to see?”

“I expect that you will create a well thought out and detailed plan that has been well-researched for both your business life and your personal life. If so, I intend to pay your father back whatever he spent to send you to college.”

“Why would you do that?” she asked suspiciously.

“So you don’t waste your life trying to fulfill a youthful promise that will literally suck the happiness out of your life. I want to see you develop to your fullest potential.”

“And you expect me to come back and join your harem?” she asked, although there was no anger or bitterness in her voice.

“Nope, although I realize it’s one possibility. Note that I said to decide what you want to do with your personal life, not what you think I want you to do.”

“There has to be a catch,” she said.

“Sue, do you think there’s a catch?” Matt asked, looking across Denise so he could see Sue.

“Denise, there is no catch,” Sue said. “You saw the risk he took to help Penny and Melody, even though he’d known them less than half a day. He risked his life to save two teenage girls just after you graduated. He’d never met them before and made no attempt to find out who they were afterwards.

“My mom takes care of Matt’s money and says that he has more money than he could ever spend given his lifestyle. He bought new houses as baby presents for his sisters and paid cash for them. Matt cares about and takes care of his family and friends.”

Denise searched Matt’s face for several seconds and finally agreed. “It may take me a while to do that,” she warned.

“If it doesn’t, I’ll throw it away without looking at it and tell you to start over.”

Matt got up to let Sue and Denise talk privately. CC and Trina had their heads together, looking at something on CC’s laptop. When CC saw Matt looking their way, she smirked and motioned him over.

“What are you two scheming?” he asked.

“I’ve been going through the phone calls the head honcho of the kidnappers made or received from the United States. I wanted to get enough information together so the DEA and FBI could pull warrants to bust the drug smugglers at our end. While I was getting that, I came across a seemingly unrelated phone number, one belonging to Evan Cahill.

“Trina noticed the name. She says Walter Cahill is the guy Melody KO’d in the lobby of the apartment complex last semester. He’s the one who was arrested for having roofies. I checked and found out that Evan and Walter are brothers. After that, I used the passwords you got during the interrogation and accessed the kidnapper’s email. Evan sent him pictures of Melody and Penny, as well as phone numbers to reach the Senator. I just sent the info to the FBI, the U.S. Marshalls, and the Attorney General. I think Mr. Evan Cahill will be joining his brother in prison soon,” she said grinning smugly.

“Remind me never to piss you off,” Matt laughed.

“You’ve got nothing to hide,” she replied. “I’ve already snooped through everything on your laptop and in your email,” she laughed.

“I’m sure it wasn’t difficult since I gave you my passwords when you worked on my laptop,” he retorted.

“Yup, took all the fun out of it.”

“What’s that?” Matt asked, pointing to the bottom inch of her laptop’s screen. Rather than a “normal” computer screen, it was black with symbols of different colors and writing in several languages scrolling.

“That’s some of my web crawlers reporting back,” she replied. “I have a huge server and a hundred computers at an obscure and very secure military base, in an even more secure room. Each computer controls twenty web crawlers to scour the dark web for interesting tidbits.”

“I thought web crawlers didn’t do well in the deep web, let alone the dark web,” Matt replied questioningly, actually remembering some of what she’d explained to him the first time they met.

She just grinned and waggled her eyebrows. “It’s been a pet project of mine for six years now. I just got the government to look at it two years ago. Now, my creepy crawlies check any new web pages in any of the Arabic languages and search them for specific words. One agency has two hundred people who keep track of known web sites and review new web sites. They’re looking for information about terrorists and their plans.

“The computers sort any information they find and direct it to the agency that deals with it. They look for information on terrorism, as well as sales of illegal drugs. They also search for stolen credit card numbers and anything to do with identity theft. The newest searches I added are for things to do with child porn and human trafficking, as well as weapons and explosives for sale.

“They report to the DEA when they locate new sites offering drugs. The FBI reviews sites offering ‘escorts’ or prostitutes. There aren’t enough cops in the country to go after every woman listed on the dark web who offers guys a good time for money, so the agencies concentrate on the sites offering underage girls or that appear to keep the women as sex slaves. ATF has people who review sites offering weapons and explosives.

“When the agencies find new key words and phrases, they let me know and I add them to the search list.

“I got the agencies to keep quiet about my work so the people using the dark web don’t start looking for ways to hide from me. The people who do the follow-up don’t know how I get the info, so only the top brass know.

“I spent most of my shares developing my system and then buying the equipment I needed. I had hoped to double the number of computers I have searching by the end of the year. With what we just cleared from the Caymans, I’ll be able to do even better than that,” she said proudly.

“And here I thought you were just a pretty face with a nice rack,” Matt teased.

“Sweet,” she chuckled when a message popped up. “The FBI is on the way to arrest Evan Cahill. They have also decided to take credit for the help we gave the George Town cops. That means what we got from the kidnapper’s boss will be tax-free.

Raven and Melody rejoined them, both glowing like women do after great sex. “I’ve never heard of a drink called the Mile-High Club,” Matt teased quietly.

“It exists,” Melody laughed. “Combine one part 70-proof Southern Comfort and one part Bacardi 151,” she explained smugly. “They call it ‘mile-high’ because multiplying the proof of one by the percent of alcohol in the other is 5285 and a mile is 5280 feet.”

“Somebody had either way too much to drink or far too much time on their hands to figure that out,” Matt laughed.

Not knowing how she’d take the news about Evan Cahill, he didn’t say anything.

Matt started to get antsy about meeting the Senator when the pilot announced that they were on final approach to DFW. Once the plane was on the ground and they were allowed out of their seats, he helped get Penny into her wheelchair and wheeled her to the door of the plane. Trina and the other bodyguards exited the plane first. Melody followed them, pushing Penny along the boarding ramp.

Matt and CC followed. When they stepped off the boarding ramp, Melody was hugging her parents.

While she spoke quietly with them, CC nudged Matt. “One of the assistant directors of the Secret Service is here. At least he looks happy,” she whispered.

Finally, Melody took her parents’ hands and led them to where Matt’s group was standing. “Everyone, these are my parents Duane and Elaine Fremont. Mom, Dad, this is Matt Young and CC Ellis,” she introduced them. Once they shook hands, Melody introduced everyone else in their group.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve scheduled a press conference to show you off. I’d like to publicly thank you. Besides,” he added in a conspiratorial stage whisper, “I’m sure you and I could both use some good publicity.”

CC knew Matt well enough that she elbowed him when he opened his mouth to protest about not thanking her, too. When Matt looked at her, she was shaking her head. Then he noticed the assistant director also shaking his head and understood. They didn’t want her face on television, but his was okay. He was, after all, a civilian.

Half an hour later, the makeup girl and the hair stylist declared that they’d done everything they could to make Matt presentable. He’d even changed into the lone suit he had taken along just in case he needed to wear it to the bank in the Caymans. The Senator already had Matt’s sandal, planning to show it.

“At least this time, I’m not the primary focus of the reporters,” Matt thought. While he was now less uncomfortable giving televised interviews, especially with the help of the programming Carla did to him, this was a new experience. Rather than one or two cameras, there were dozens, and Matt saw the logos of every major broadcasting company represented.

The Senator strode confidently to the podium. “As you have probably already heard, my daughter was the subject of a kidnapping attempt over Spring Break. Four men drove up as she was exiting her hotel on her way to dinner. They shot and wounded her bodyguard.

“A popular new author was there and instinctively pulled the bodyguard to safety behind a waiting taxi. Two more U.S. citizens with carry-permits from the Cayman Islands government happened to be there. They took cover behind the pillars supporting the overhang and returned fire, killing the original shooter and wounding the driver.”

Motioning for Matt to join him in front of the cameras, the Senator continued. “The author, Matt Young, who goes by the pen name TK Owens, used his sandal to reach the bodyguard’s pistol and slide it to where he could safely grab it. This is what happened to his sandal,” he said, holding it up and sticking a pencil through the hole in the sole.

“There were two remaining gunmen, both having taken cover on the far side of their car. Mr. Young managed to shoot one by firing beneath both the cab and the shooters’ car. Then he bravely left the cover of the taxi and moved across the driveway to get behind the shooters’ car. After warning the remaining shooter to surrender, he shot when the last kidnapper attempted to bring a gun to bear on Mr. Young.

“The Cayman police have reviewed video from several different cameras and agreed that everything the Americans did was defensive and justified. With the help of U.S. authorities, the Cayman police quickly arrested the remaining members of the fledgling kidnapping group. Both the Cayman government and the U.S. agents who assisted assure me that there is no further threat.

“Given my decidedly un-Texan view on gun control up to now, I must admit to an error in judgment. Even in a country where guns are difficult to obtain, the criminals were well armed. I now realize that, even if every country in the world suddenly stopped manufacturing guns and collected every known weapon owned by civilians, criminals would still have guns. They would steal them from the militaries of the world or even manufacture their own.

“Had three civilians not been armed or known how to use a pistol, the outcome could have been much different. I now intend to direct my efforts to passing legislation mandating even longer prison sentences for anyone who uses a firearm in the commission of a crime, as well as making thorough background checks mandatory before civilians are allowed to purchase a weapon. We also hope to make it impossible to plea bargain any charges involving the use of a gun. My staff has just begun the task of defining the criteria we will recommend be used to deny the sale of weapons to high-risk individuals. We have contacted the NRA in hopes that they will work with us.”

When he finished, the reporters erupted with questions. Matt was thankful that most were directed to the Senator, including why he didn’t identify the other two Americans. He explained that they were government employees who were on vacation and didn’t want their identity revealed.

Sweat was trickling down Matt’s body when they finally escaped from the hot spotlights.

“Again, thank you,” the Senator said as he shook Matt’s hand one final time.

The charter flight definitely saved the group time, despite the press conference. Matt was back in shorts and a T-shirt and wearing his repaired sandal by the time they boarded the plane. The plane touched down at the John Wayne airport just after 3:30 in the afternoon local time, just nine hours after leaving the Caymans, minus three hours for the time difference. Matt felt that was a definite improvement over the 9.5-hour flight and a three-hour layover on the way to the Caymans.

Nevertheless, they still had to deal with Friday evening traffic as denizens of the Los Angeles Basin rushed home to celebrate the end of the workweek, and a two-day parole from their occupational imprisonment. It was almost 5:30 before they finally got home. Their arrival would have been even later, but they had cleared customs in Dallas while waiting for the press conference to begin.

Even though the house was empty, the laughter of the kids from the pool filled the house. Matt called and ordered pizza to be delivered since it was so late.

He was surprised that Lydia hadn’t arrived yet since Vickie texted her earlier in the morning to let her know when they’d be home. He realized that she probably had something planned with her parents before she found out they’d be home early.

After dinner, Jodi, Carla, and Vickie headed for the grocery store to restock. Denise, Sue, and Raven were huddled together. Matt guessed that they were discussing what he had talked to Denise about on the plane.

After setting up his laptop in the study, Matt checked his personal email. Finding little besides spam, he switched to his author’s web site for the first time in a week. He could see that Sue had been there and had sorted the emails for him, leaving only a handful of new emails.

Opening the emails from fans, he began reading them, sending his standard reply. When warranted, he added an additional comment. He was so engrossed in the emails that he barely heard one of the girls come into the study. When he looked up, it was all the girls, and they looked grim. Once they had him surrounded, Raven motioned to a naked Vickie who nervously sat on Matt’s lap. Given the concern he saw on her face, he figured it was bad news about something.

“Lydia’s dating someone,” she said so quietly that he had to replay her words to be sure he heard them. He felt as if someone had just punched him in the gut. He didn’t even bother to ask if she was sure.

“Thank you, I’m sure it was difficult for you to tell me,” he sighed, his voice tight with emotion. She rested her head on his shoulder and lay against him quietly for several minutes while he struggled to get his emotions under control. For a moment, he considered Lydia’s exit as cosmic payback for having sex with her married mother. He quickly quashed that thought--mostly.

Matt had known on their very first day that this would happen, despite Lydia’s occasional protestations to the contrary. At no point in their relationship was there a doubt in his mind that she wouldn’t leave. Her obligatory six months had ended on December 4. On January 4, he had said a silent prayer of thanks for the extra month, as well as on the 4th of the next three months. By March, he was surprised that she hadn’t yet found a boyfriend. Still, he knew better than to hope that she’d stay. Despite knowing that she’d leave, he also knew that her departure would hit him hard. From the concern they were all showing, the women in his life knew it, too.

Susie had gotten serious with a boy just after Thanksgiving and was gone. While Matt felt the loss, it was nothing like what he felt with Lydia’s exodus. The pain from Susie leaving had been like a bruise that hurt if you moved wrong. The pain from Lydia leaving was raw, both physically and emotionally.

Matt still hadn’t figured out exactly what had been so special about Lydia. She was gorgeous and sexy. She was also smart and horny, all traits shared by the other women in his life. While her youth had piqued his interest, Susie and Tara were also young and hadn’t generated the same level of attraction that Lydia had. Still, his three submissives meant more to him than Lydia had. Raven was quickly growing on Matt as they continued to explore their compatibility. Thinking about Raven, Matt decided that she had also surpassed Lydia in importance to him.

Matt realized that he was being self-centered, moping over Lydia when he had four women, each of whom meant more to him than Lydia had. He gave Vickie a kiss on the cheek and patted her naked ass to signal her to get up. Once she did, He stood and hugged, and then kissed Raven, followed by each of the other girls. “Obviously, Lydia was special to me. Even though I can’t put my finger on the reason she affected me more than Susie or Tara, I hope each of you know that you mean even more to me,” he said earnestly.

Turning back to Vickie, he put his arms around her waist and rested his forehead against hers as she looked at him nervously. “The next time you talk to Lydia, let her know that I’ll miss her--we’ll all miss her,” he said gesturing to the others. “Remind her that I knew this would happen going in. I’ll leave it to you to let her know I miss her enough that she knows she was and is important to me without making her feel guilty.”

Seeing that it was almost 9:00, Matt declared it to be bedtime and shut down his laptop.

Nobody was in the mood for sex that night and they just snuggled together. Still, sleep was a long time in coming to Matt. All the girls were breathing softly and evenly before he finished working through his emotions--again.

One month later

Saturday May 23 3:38 p.m.

“Vickie Copeland. The announcer read Vickie’s name as she strode proudly onto the stage to receive her diploma. The cheering from Matt’s group was echoed by another group somewhere off to their right. Knowing Lydia was in that group, Matt resisted the urge to turn and look, one of the hardest things he had ever done.

The last month had been both hectic and dark. The release of Book six was three and a half weeks ago.

Matt spent a week on the East Coast promoting the book, again finding himself a welcome guest on both morning and nighttime talk shows. This time, the shows wanted details about the attempt to kidnap Melody. Senator Fremont had provided Matt with an edited excerpt they could show, one that didn’t show any faces but Matt’s. Each show edited the clip further, both to keep it short and to delete scenes they deemed too graphic. Matt refused to watch the clip, explaining that living it had been traumatic enough.

Right after that, he spent another two weeks visiting other big cities east of the Mississippi. He chuckled one morning, understanding the title of the old movie, “If It’s Tuesday, This Must be Belgium.” He’d learned to leave himself a note reminding him what city he was in when he woke up, as well as what he had to do that day and what time.

Matt heaved a sigh of relief when he returned home to find his harem intact, at least until CC arrived. Taking Matt into the study, she sat him down and sat on his lap. After gently (reasonably) slapping his face back and forth several times, she looked at him angrily. “Get your head out of your ass,” she growled. “Yes, your little fuck toy is gone, but you have four, and even more willing women still living here. How do you think it makes them feel? Sue says your latest book is a very dark story, but admits that it may be your best yet. Have Raven call me when you finally lighten up,” she said, and stormed out.

“Okay, I guess I haven’t done a very good job of hiding the hurt I still feel,” Matt sighed.

He corralled the women after dinner and they lay together naked on the bed as he hugged them. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve been acting. I want each of you to know that what you’ve seen is nothing compared to what I’d go through if one of you left. Still, I’ll try harder to lighten up and hope you’ll let me know if I don’t succeed,” he told them. Then he just lay there with them and finally shed the tears that he’d held in for too long. They were still lying the same way the next morning. That tearful release helped Matt more than he wanted to admit.

The previous night, Matt had taken a nervous Vickie into his study. “You’ve changed,” he said quietly, holding her in his lap. “Tomorrow, you are free to leave. You can go home, or I’ll set you up in a small apartment. Either way, your programming will remain in effect, but your punishment will be over.”

“Can’t I stay here?” she asked, shocking Matt.

“Why would you want to stay here?” he asked.

“I still feel like I need to change more, and think the environment here will help me more than elsewhere,” she replied. “The girls of your harem are quick to point out things they feel I should have done differently,” she chuckled. “I can help pay my way,” she offered.

“If you stay, I will continue to give you to men to use as their fuck toy until you start a serious relationship with someone,” Matt warned.

“Can I ask one small favor?” she asked timidly.

“You can ask, and I’ll consider it,” he replied warily.

“No more dogs,” she pleaded.

“That won’t be a problem as there never was a dog. I made you think one of the girls with a strap on was a dog. Then I made you think I was a dog and made you suck me off.”

“Oh, god,” she sobbed in relief. “I was so humiliated.”

“I also expect you to go home at least one weekend a month to see your family.”

“And fuck my father?” she asked.

“That will be entirely up to you and your parents. I will only force you to have sex with people when you’re here. Let me know if you have a date and I won’t schedule your biker buddies that night. If you date someone and decide to spend the night, I expect at least a text to warn us so we don’t worry about you. Despite everything I’ve done to you, I kept my word and haven’t let you get hurt.”

Hence, Vickie still lived with them, although she spent two weekends with her family each month. She had a new job lined up before Matt returned from the two-week book tour. She started on the second of June and made good money. She worked in the corporate office of a large retail company as an assistant to one of their buyers.

Matt finished book eight in just under four weeks and sent it to the publisher a week after Vickie’s graduation. One way he dealt with Lydia leaving had been to throw himself into his writing. Like Sue mentioned, and later Tess commented, book eight was a dark story, reflective of his mood while writing it. The publisher also commented that it was his best work yet.

While Matt was wading through fan email, he found one that made him smile.