#pruricnt

It had been three weeks since he'd last seen her. Three weeks since she'd broken off their engagement and their whole fucking life together in one fell swoop... in a single fucking text. One text was all he'd gotten; no explanation, no conversation - in fact it had been crickets on her end ever since. No one home at her apartment - the one she'd been in the process of moving out of before this sudden shift. No response when he called. No replies when he texted.

Outwardly, Aaron was as he'd always been; no one at work would have noted a difference in his demeanor. Inwardly, he was right at the brink, rage his only constant. The kind of rage that spiked every time his fingers grazed the ring that had been in his pocket since last night when he'd come home to find it on his nightstand. So like any reasonable man, he'd had one of his IT contacts hack into her calendar. She was supposed to be meeting someone at the bar tonight. So he'd made his way there before her, sitting himself in a dark corner with a finger of reposado tequila in a lowball glass before him.

When finally his girl showed her face, he watched with a single-minded focus as she made her way through the crowd, clearly searching for the person she was supposed to be meeting. He remained seated, lifted his glass to his lips, sipped the burning liquid and locked eyes with her over the rim, the heat in his almost hot enough to burn on contact.

After a chance meeting, Teague had one of his men send an NDA and a little gift to the young woman with no explanation of how he knew where to find her or how he could have guessed every physical detail about her. When the kingpin wanted something, he took it. The large black velvet box with its crimson red silk bow contained an elegant black Chanel dress, Louboutin pumps, an Hermès clutch, and Cartier necklace to his taste. The card accompanying everything only gave her a date, time, and address.

He sat alone in the upscale restaurant that should have been bustling with all of its reservations, now cancelled and paid off at his request. If there was one thing he’d learned, everyone had secrets and he knew how to use them. The man had taken a liking to the pretty new face and curiosity had gotten the best of him. If he was going to take on a new pet he wanted to see how she responded to doting and the order of his habits. His gaze sat on the door as he drank a glass of whiskey, only ever looking down to tap the ash off of his cigar, never to check the time. When the door opened something almost like a smile drew across his lips as he waited to see if she showed up on time dressed up as he’d liked. Standing as she approached, a waiter pulled out the chair next to him for her and he leaned in and pressed his lips to her cheekbone, “A vision, once more, Avery. How are you this evening, love?”

She had initiated. In this weird foggy state of mind it seemed like a good idea to try and get her out of her head but now, after the fact, she only felt disgusted with herself for even trying to brush off her mothers death like this. Her afterglow was dark and sorrowful despite the fact that she had thoroughly enjoyed the sex with Michael but she supposed this was grief. There was no way of running from it as she had hoped.

Instead of answering verbally Beryl gave a nod, it wasn’t the sex. Hope that wasn’t too rough… Slowly she shook her head. “No… no I’m fine I just… I don’t understand why I’m so… hurt…. by her death.” She winced, saying it out loud was much worse than thinking it still she continued. “She wasn’t a good mother. She didn’t even fucking care, you were there more than either of my parents were. So why should I mourn her when I can’t even remember the last time I spoke to her?”

Michael had to just settle with the self reassured thought that he had taken her mind off things for at least just a fleeting moment when she moaned in ecstasy just minutes before.

He was quickly brought back to reality as she spoke her own thoughts. At least she was finally talking about it. He hummed at her words, sighing in empathy. “I mean either way...she was your mom.” He shrugged, pursing his lips. “My dad died before I got to know him but there’s something in me that still misses him too. Maybe it’s not so much missing her but moments you could have with her?” He offered, not exceptional at words but hoping to give her some kind of solace in his musings.

Phineas found himself settled in the confessional, hands clasped together in his lap as he heard footsteps echoing in the church hall as they approached. He hadn’t expected to be busy what with it being a holiday weekend, nonetheless he kept to his schedule, allowing for drop ins anyway. He raised his head as he heard the door of the opposite booth open, prompting him to open the door, seeing only the silhouette of a woman illuminated against the screen between them. He sat in silence as he waited for the confession.