Second Chance Too - Cover

Second Chance Too

Copyright© 2022 by Number 7

Chapter 6

Time Travel Sex Story: Chapter 6 - The saga of Carl continues. In Second Chance Too he finds himself in a new place, with a new body, and another set of challenges. Along the way he finds love, tragedy, pain and loss. Some days his friends are enemies and his enemies are legion.

Caution: This Time Travel Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   DoOver   Incest   InLaws  

The dream came to me just before dawn.

We were on a yacht, enjoying a wonderful breakfast when I felt a brutal stab of pain in my head – all over my head - and could feel the deck sliding around under me. Something hit me very hard. Reaching to steady myself on the table was a failure, and when my hand missed the surface, I felt myself losing the battle to stay upright. In the background, I heard the man I immediately knew as Mr. Bell shouting for the steward to find Rebecca and felt Millie’s arms go around my shoulders and her face against mine.

I knew needed to be flat. I don’t know why I knew I needed that, but I knew it. Unable to think about multi-tasking, I used my remaining strength to slide off the chair and go down to the deck, without injuring myself in the process. I shook myself free of Millie’s grip as I did - so I could lie flat.

Once I was down, the extreme nausea that accompanied my sudden head pain lessened somewhat, and I knew I’d made the right decision.

Millie, Mr. Bell, and Rebecca all had their hands on me at once. Their distress was evident, and I wanted to soothe them. Mr. Bell’s shirt was covered in blood - my blood. The boat was pitching wildly, and I feared being thrown overboard. BUT they seemed quite stable, which confused me at first, then concerned me, because that meant I was losing motor skills.

I was bleeding, again. How many times could I bleed?

Not too many, I reminded myself. Not too many more...

As the pain increased, I heard this loud rushing in my head. It sounded like water through a fire hose and kept increasing all the time. I barely heard Rebecca say, “What happened? He looks like he’s been shot!” Then I understood. They got to us. Even way out in the ocean, those people kept coming, and now they’d shot me.

With that realization, came pain that overwhelmed me. I could feel the blood seeping out of my injured head and feel my heart trying to beat harder to make up for it.

Suddenly I heard shooting from our boat and took comfort knowing Jack and his team were protecting my family. The yacht turned hard toward our pursuers, and the shooting from our side came much faster. Jack was taking the fight right at them. Good, that meant the clear shot to our deck was gone, and Rebecca, Colleen, Millie, and Mr. Bell were safe from the shooters.

As I felt myself going away, I tried to concentrate on everything around me.

If I died and went back to that dark, silent place, I wanted to have as much as I could store up in memory when I got there. Even though it was impossible to speak, I could hear and see a little.

The sun was brightly shining. It hurt my eyes but gave me comfort at the same time. The sea was that weird, grayish color, you see before a storm. The gentle waves rocked me as I lay on the deck, waiting for death to take me.

Mr. Bell wore a colorful, long-sleeved V-neck shirt. It fit him poorly and would have to be replaced when they got home because of the bloodstains. Rebecca was in her nightclothes. When the yelling started, she must have been roused from sleep. Colleen was dressed for a business meeting. Her ensemble was as lovely as it was practical. She oozed ‘professional woman of the world.’ Millie looked splendid, and I halfway regretted dying without taking her to bed. Her face was contorted with tears, and she gripped my hand and pleaded with me to stay with them.

Apparently, our ship had a medical officer. Maybe the Ambassador arranged it, I didn’t know, but suddenly another man burst through my family. He went to work on me, even as I felt myself leaving my body. He stabbed me in the heart with a hypodermic needle, and it hurt, which confused me because I thought the pain would subside once I got close to death.

Why does dying hurt so much? Isn’t it enough I’m dying? Do I have to die in agony?

Seriously?

I was going to die.

I was dying right now.

I recognized dying, because I’d done it before, and it felt just like this.

Admitting it took great pressure off me, and I felt myself relax all over. The ship’s doctor shouted at Rebecca, “We’re losing him.” That should have upset me, but I knew it already.

As I faded away, I could hear Rebecca, Colleen, and Millie trying to convince me to stay with them. Millie’s face was the last thing I remembered seeing, as the world changed from bright daylight to blackness. My final thoughts were of my family. I prayed to whoever was listening, out there, for the safety of my loved ones.

As I faded away, I was regretting being the reason the family would need to rearrange their transportation since no one would need to stop in Florida on the way home...

Once I awakened from the dream, sleep was no longer on the agenda. I lay in my lonely bed wondering how many times the poor guy that kept showing up in my dreams had to die, and how many times he had to get hurt. My injuries seemed like child’s play compared to what that poor man went through. Without the benefit of sleep, I dragged myself up and got ready to work. At least I had my work to give me solace.

When I arrived at the hangar the next morning another hammer dropped. Pete was waiting as I walked in, looking like a whipped puppy, and then had the unpleasant obligation to further destroy my life. It only took a couple of lines to finish destroying my career as a pilot.

Dear Calvin Goodwin

This letter shall be considered official notice that your pilot license(s) are hereby permanently suspended due to your continued medical condition(s), permanently limited mobility, and various medications...

That was all it took for the FAA to take away my job. It seems that Zachary and Pete pulled some strings to get me a medical, to begin with, and once the paperwork worked its way up to Oklahoma City, I was not legally qualified, in a medical sense, to hold those certificates. Rather than fight it, I thanked everyone at Flight Operations, let Maeve know, so she could tell Zachary when he returned from his current trip, and went on my way. The HR woman assured me that because my job went away because of my injuries, my salary would continue along with automatic cost of living increases. I was a former pilot faster than I could have purchased a cup of coffee. The time it took to become retired was even faster than how long it took to become the employee who was married to the founder’s daughter.

Back in my lonely home, I chose to enjoy the quiet, rather than sulk. Once I took stock of my situation, it was easy to make a few decisions that would affect the next couple of years. My physical condition was far better than I expected and that gave me the confidence to think outside the box and see if I could learn how to enjoy my new life.

The empty days passed slowly. It was easy to see how people fell into depression once they retired. With only Karen’s care forcing me out of bed, it would have been simple to just lay around and let the world go by. The whole thing was painful and maddening. Rosemary only married me because she had absolutely no choice, but I fell stupidly in love with her and proved it every way I knew how.

Rosemary loved Rosemary. And I was left behind to worry about the baby- someone else’s baby. Even so, she was as precious to me as my own life. The only thing that gave me even a little comfort was knowing that she didn’t take Karen with her. Maeve was forcefully opposed to us hiring a nanny when it first came up. She wanted Rosemary to be a full-time mother. Once it was just me and the baby, Maeve knew that Karen needed constant attention. Nannies it was, with a vengeance.

Maeve managed the nannies like Zachary managed his empire – with an iron fist. There were three eight-hour shifts in a day, and seven days in a week, making twenty-one eight hours shifts to fill. With allowances for days off, sickness, and emergencies, Maeve decided that I needed four full-time nannies, to look after ‘our’ baby (grandbaby in Maeve’s case), which meant she needed to interview about four-thousand applicants.

Maeve was nothing if not driven.

Even with the employment offices sending droves of applicants, Maeve wasn’t pleased enough to hire more than two. Every other applicant failed at least one of Maeve’s deal breakers. Some did not have sufficient employment experience. Others failed background checks. Several were not brutally honest on their applications. The rest she dismissed because she didn’t like them.

Her recalcitrance on the matter left us short-staffed, by Maeve’s calculations, of course. Zachary smiled indulgently whenever we discussed her approach to childcare. Maeve took his smile as agreement and launched into yet another lecture on the problem of hiring quality help.

Due to her limited success in acquiring quality nannies, Maeve stayed with Karen and me for another month, as filling overnight shifts was the main challenge. The loneliness for me was worse at night and having Maeve nearby just caused the attraction between us to become even greater.

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