Chapter 17

"Bloody hell, Mark! She couldn't have just fallen off the face of the earth! DAMN!"Russell was pacing back and forth, exasperated, on the patio in Mark's back yard. It was a glorious sunny day outside, but it could have been raining cats and dogs for all he cared. The two of them had knocked out a case of Victoria Bitter during their research of all airlines and cartage companies. No luck. No trace of Janie. Not one clue.

Mark rubbed his eyes and sighed audibly. "Mate, what are we missing? Where would she have gone - surely she must have mentioned something to ya about where she'd like to go given the chance? Something..."

Russell cut it, "Fuck! You think I haven't thought of that already? Give me a break!" Mark shot him an intimidating "back-the-fuck-off" glare. Softly, "Mark, I'm sorry - Jesus, I seem to be saying that a lot lately - your friendship means the world to me - you know that, right? Sometimes I feel that it's all I have..."

Mark's gut wrenched. Why was he saying this? "Fuck off, mate. I do what anyone else in the same situation would. I know you're just upset about Janie. We all are..." Mark's attempt to sound nonchalant failed when his voice quivered over his last words.

Pulling up a chair next to Mark, Russell plopped down, "Alright - let's have it - what it is really between the two of you? Eh?"

Mark whipped his head around to look at Russell - to gauge his type of interest in wanting to "know". This wasn't a serious look on Rusty's face - it was more like a 'tell me what ya like about her' look. Mark was able to let out the breath he was holding - and for a brief moment, he decided to spill the beans and tell him everything - damn the torpedoes.

"Russell" he took a deep breath, "Janie and I...that is... Janie and I are.....we..."

Try as he might, he couldn't make his mouth form the words as his eyes were glued to Russell's in desperation.

"You and Janie what? Come on mate, spit it out!" Russell was giggling in anticipation.

"Oh you stupid bastard! Janie and I FUCKED, you hear me? I fucked her! Fuck Fuck Fuck. Yeah - that's right! I stuck it up her, I did! She was beggin' for it - spread wide open like a fuckin' bitch in heat. How the hell can you leave something like that ALONE in a hotel room while you're out on the town, mate?  YOU asked for it just as hard as she begged me. Did you get that, mate? SHE BEGGED ME TO FUCK HER. Does she beg you like that? She screamed my name to the heavens when I ate that gorgeous snatch of hers. Are you blind? If I had 24/7 access to pussy like that - I'd be IN IT 24/7!!! Had you not fuckin' INTERRUPTED us with your mother fuckin' phone call, she probably would have been begging me to stick it up her ASS...and I would have gladly obliged because you are a selfish fuck who can't see how good he's got it."

"...We're good friends, Russell. She was a good friend. She was easy to talk to and she listened to my stupid jokes. She's not like those other sheilas you've spent your time with. She was genuine..." he trailed off. His eyes welled up and he rubbed them, feigning exhaustion.

"I think the feeling was mutual, Mark. She liked your company too. God knows you probably spent more time on average with her than I did." Russell opened his mouth to say something, but stopped and drained the rest of his VB instead.

Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrring. A high pitched cell phone ring startled both of them and they ran over each other trying to grab their respective phones.

"Mr. Dumbrell? This is Cindy with Wilson Movers. You called earlier inquiring on a possible customer of ours? I just found something that might interest you."

Russell was leaning in against the outside of Mark's phone trying to hear the conversation.

"Yes ma'am - anything would be a great help."

"I'm sorry, but when you called before I only looked at the people that we've billed for our moving services - I didn't notice the notes in the comments field. Anyway - there was a move that was paid for by a real estate company, but the comments say the contact name was Jane Dougherty."

Mark jotted the address down and handed it to Russell. He thanked Cindy and ended the call with a sigh of relief.

Russell giggled and hugged Mark like he was a long lost friend. Blinking away tears of joy, Russell stared at the address. His smile faded away.

"What do we do now, mate?"

Mark shook his head in response. "I don't think she wants to be found right now." Mark turned away from Russell to hide the pain and frustration evident on his face. "She's got a lot on her mind, Russell. Give her some time."

"Right." Russell was tuned in to Mark's melancholy - reading it as Mark's disappointment in his friend for his actions that led them to the place they were now. "Mark - I'm going back to the farm." Russell quietly mentioned.

"Having her address satisfies me for now. Thanks for all your help, mate." He patted Mark on the shoulder and retreated.

Russell wanted to approach this the right way. Swarming in like gang-busters was not the most prudent way to place himself back into her life. Janie was very clear in the note that she left him: It was over. Things would never be the same after what he had done. She wished him well, and hoped they would remain on good terms with one another. Her words stung his already bruised conscience. He was determined to see her once again - to beg forgiveness - to pledge his love for her - to beseech her to take him back. Hell, he'd settle for just one smile and a gaze into her eyes. He vowed to treat Janie like the princess she was to him if only she would allow him to...

In the days since Janie's miscarriage, Russell had replayed every memory he had of her over and over ad nauseam - trying to find the key to this puzzle. Sometime during that brief visit in California, something happened - but he could not figure out what it was. He had felt Janie move away from him emotionally. It wasn't a tangible thing that you could hold in your hand and touch - it was just a subtle feeling. She was there, but yet she was not. At the time, Russell had downplayed these signs thinking she was just bored and frustrated with him for leaving her alone all day and sometimes into the night.

Janie had become her old deliciously devious self at Nicole's party, but after that - nothing...

Regrettably, the last time they made love was on the private jet ride to the States. Russell was absolutely positive that was the moment of conception of the baby she had lost. The weeks before that had been the occasional playful oral sex, if at all - his recovery from a sinus infection was prolonged by his refusal to slow down and rest. The medication he took rendered him groggy and useless in bed - he preferred to just cuddle, which seemed fine with Janie.

The two week stay in L.A. found Russell busy during the days and nights, trying to keep up with the appearance schedule that his agent had put together. In hindsight, he should have left Janie at home. He had absolutely no time for her and it had weighed heavily in the back of his mind. Where did he get the idea that there would be time to do anything together? He scoffed at his selfishness. Russell didn't want to be alone at night. That is what it amounted to. He wanted Janie "there". He could kick himself for being petulant when Janie didn't want to go to the movie premier with him. There was definitely something wrong and he couldn't slow down for a tic to talk to her - to hold her and make everything ok. The truth be told, they hadn't had a real conversation since the same plane trip when they made love last.

Chapter 18

Since that afternoon that he opened his mouth and screamed at Janie without consulting his brain, Russell wrestled with his feelings of anger, guilt, disappointment, love, optimism, and passion until he thought he would go crazy. His thought patterns bounced around from "Surely she'll take me back" to "Why would she want me now?" and then "I can't live without her" soon made it's way to the what ifs:

"What if she hadn't lost the baby?"

"What if I had never yelled at her the way I did?"

"What if she took me back?"

"Would I want to spend the rest of my life with her?" "Definitely."

I don't want to be without her. From the moment I saw her...I knew there was   something about her...something I had to have, both physically and emotionally. There was a need in her eyes - one that I mistakenly thought I could fulfill. I didn't realize it, but I shifted from her, her, her to me, me, me sometime after

I finished my last project. Bastard. I don't even remember the last time that I asked her how her latest novel was coming along...so wrapped up in myself and  my projects. What made me become like this? I've ruined what could have been the best thing in my life - and hurt a very delicate soul.

Russell had been so taken with his thoughts of Janie that he hadn't noticed that the horse he was riding had stopped on her own at his favorite spot by the creek. He dismounted and patted Honey on her neck, quietly praising her for taking him where he needed to go. Feeling his pockets for his pack of smokes, he strolled over to a nearby tree and sat - gazing into the open expanse. He fished around in his front pants' pocket and found his lighter. He fired up a cigarette and inhaled as deeply as he could, welcoming the head-rush of the nicotine from his Marlboro Reds. Honey was off to his left, grazing contentedly. Russell stared forward towards the creek hoping to catch a glimpse of the platypus that resided there.

This place was a haven of peace and freedom to Russell. He stretched his legs out and leaned back on the tree, hoping that a wave of omniscience would wash over him as he closed his weary eyes. No such luck. Instead all he could see were Janie's eyes....losing himself in the pools of azure. The eyes that peered up at him, flooded with desire when he made love to her. The way they licentiously undressed him from across a room, scanning him up, then down - as if to take inventory of what she would suck and fuck first, second and last.

Two cigarettes later, Russell found himself caught up in one of the best memory-turned-fantasies he'd been able to conjure up in...well...since he and Janie fucked on the plane.

A favorite pastime of Russell's was to watch Janie write when she wasn't aware that she had an audience. It unnerved her to know he was watching because so many of the intimate scenes she wrote were inspired by him. He could tell when she was composing a particularly lurid piece - she would shift her weight from one side of her body to the next - even casually brush her breast with her hand.

Janie couldn't hide her arousal - it was written all in the candy apple red blush on her face. He recalled the time that she had gotten herself so worked up from what she had written that she had hurried to the bathroom to pleasure herself as Russell pretended to sleep on the nearby bed in the hotel room. She didn't bother to shut the bathroom door, thinking he was too far-gone to hear her. Russell crept up to the doorway and peered in. Clothes were flung all over the bathroom. Janie was lying in the bathtub, deftly masturbating with the detachable showerhead. Russell had never been as jealous of a bathroom fixture as he was at that moment. He fought the urge to jump in and be a participant in the fun but instead he reveled in watching her angle the jets to hit the right spot - and the grin that played on her face when she hit bulls-eye.

Russell rejoined reality - already in progress - long enough to stare up at the sky through the tree limbs and be aware that he had unzipped his pants and had freed the beast, as it were. With his right hand stroking his cock in rhythm with this breathing and his other hand acting as a buffer between his head and the tree - his eyes slipped shut and he continued his daydream.

That must be one hell of a chapter she's writing, he thought to himself as he played voyeur from his vantage point. Janie was thrusting her hips forward, with one hand holding the showerhead stuffed in her crotch and the other hand kneading and massaging her left breast. She began sucking air in through clenched teeth and he knew she was approaching her apex fast. Russell was leaning his full weight on the doorjamb, grinding his needful hardness against the edge. Janie's breathing was getting more and more shallow. To the inexperienced ear, one may have thought she was hyperventilating. She took a deep breath, gritted her teeth, and hissed,

"Russssssssssssssssssssell......Russssssssssssssell," as she crossed the finish line. Her body stiffened as she came and she held her breath as she rode the rollercoaster down. Suddenly - Janie went limp and murmured, "Oh Russ - the things you do to me. Bastard." He felt himself blush with a slight embarrassment at witnessing something so personal - yet found himself proud to be the cause of such a display.

Russell sat up straight on the underneath the tree, having fatigued himself sweetly from his remembrance. His seed lay spilled onto the dirt and his hand was trembling from overexertion. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow and turned as if he were talking to Honey, "Isn't like the real thing, is it, girl? I gotta stop this nonsense and set things right."

On his ride back to the house, Russell decided to write Janie a letter. He concluded that he would probably just muck things up worse if he took off and visited her in person. She wasn't answering her cell phone and as easy as it would be to find out what her new home number was, Russell didn't feel comfortable ringing her up and intruding when she was clear in her last note to him - asking him to stay away.

Smiling to himself, he realized how proud he was of her for buying a house. He had often commented that she deserved a place - a haven of her own, and not some stuffy apartment. Knowing the real estate agent that handled the transaction, it had to be a beaut of a place - that bloke only dealt in high dollar property. Russell's heart was heavy with emotion as he approached the barn. Now he had to figure out how to put his heart on to paper...

Chapter 19

Mark went about his day the best he could, considering his mind was nowhere near focused on the phone calls and follow ups he had slated to do in preparation for their next trip abroad. What would it take to get that damn sheila out of my head? Goddamn it to hell. Always a sheila. I've been immune to all of Rusty's fancies, save this one.

He fantasized about those moments they shared together in the hotel room while Russell was just blocks away at a party. Unknowing. The internal struggle that was taking place in Mark had just about consumed him. He constantly found his thoughts revolving around that girl. Was it lust? Was it love or merely concern?

Their relationship had taken such a sharp turn that night. He was thankful yet heartbroken that she didn't appear to remember their deviance the next day. Mark yearned to know if he had satisfied her - if she was the least bit satiated in a way that she wasn't with Russell. Even now, he could still taste her sweet juices in his mouth. Could she love him? Was that too much of a prayer to ask from God? The ache. The ache in his heart made him so edgy that he wanted to cry. He wanted to tell someone, anyone about his feelings for her - but there was no one. What would happen if he just bit the bullet and told Russell? What's the worst he could do? Fire him? No. Losing his trust was by far the harshest punishment for his crime.

Why? That was the question Mark asked himself constantly. Why had he given in to her? She was the incapacitated one - he knew exactly what he was doing. In the

High Court of Human Relationships, he had no alibi for his actions. The jury would convict him of selfishness and treason against his friend - with a very short deliberation.

What do you do when you are presented with your dream - on a platter? Do you turn away? Do you deny yourself that one thing that you thought you would never have? The argument is age old. Mark felt as if he would never, could never live this down.

He gave up on work for the moment and went to take a cold shower. Even as the needles of ice pelted his face and shoulders, running down his chest - it did nothing to deter the throbbing hard-on that was bobbing between his legs. Leaning into the shower, one hand rested on the wall to support his weight, he tried his best to push her from his mind. It was no use, all thoughts pointed North - like his dick - to the wonderfully lewd moments spent with Janie:

What do I do if Russ walks in? What do I do if he finds out? Mark's dick told him that he didn't care. Her lips were the sweetest wine...her skin was the smoothest silk. Her robe had slipped of her body completely. Janie had unbuttoned Mark's shirt and was caressing his chest.

"Mark. I want you. Please." She whispered without blinking an eye. He stood and pulled off his shirt. Janie stood on her knees and reached out for him. Mark then removed the rest of his clothes, got onto the bed and pulled her down to lay with him. He could not satisfy his hunger for her breasts. Janie's hands were in his hair, moaning at the sensation of his touch - the touch of someone yet unexplored - was almost too much for her to bear. His free hand slid down her stomach to the patch of manicured hair. He ran his fingers over it - back and forth - which rewarded him with an arch of her back and a squeal. His middle finger ran down the crease of her sex and then went up and inside her. She was practically gushing and it only excited him more. He added another finger, then another. Janie bucked her hips against his hand and would have cum right then had he not withdrew to lick her juices that were dripping from his fingers. She whined and pouted.

Mark growled and worked his way down to the fountain that was masquerading as her pussy - where he lapped up the precious honey. He sucked and tugged at her clitoris with his lips, digging his fingers into her thighs to keep her still. Janie was crying his name now - begging for him to put his cock inside her. He obliged her only after he had brought her over the edge. The sight of her face as she came was enough to make him spurt without control.

When Janie came down off her post-coital high, Mark prompted her to roll over on her stomach and he lifted her hips into the air. He entered her effortlessly, pushing all the way in and pulling all the way out.

"Mmmmmmmmmm," she hummed, "Yeah baby, fuck me hard."

"Fuck me, Janie - if you don't shut up, I'm gonna cum too soon, luv." He pounded into her sheath from behind. Sweat was running down his face. His meaty hands were on her hips, his fingers dug in deep. Janie began caterwauling like a feline in heat as Mark cock grazed her g-spot repeatedly. He smacked her bottom and snarled as he approached his climax.

"Yes, Oh yesssssss Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark!" That was all it took - hearing Janie scream his name while in the throes of ecstasy sent him over the top. He grabbed a handful of hair, and brought her head up to his and crushed his lips down on hers. He emptied his load into her pulsating snatch as Janie screamed his name once more.

Janie went limp against his chest - he embraced her as he rode his high down to Earth. Mark heard the bleeping of his cell phone. He crashed back into reality and dove for the phone, which was in the pocket of his jacket lying on the floor. Of course it was a drunk Russell, wanting to know where the fuck he was, why he wasn't where he was supposed to be. He didn't sound angry - more like a playful happy drunk. Mark stuffed everything back into place and redressed himself while listening to his inebriated friend bust his chops.

"Alright - I'll be right there." He snapped the phone shut after taking down mental notes of the directions to the bar that Russell, Nicole, and a few friends wanted to go to. Just then, the hotel phone rang. He was sure it was Russell calling to check on Janie. He held his breath, but then let it out when he saw Janie, passed out again, on the bed. He was eternally grateful that she wasn't awake to answer it - God knows what she would have said to Russell.

Mark assessed the situation, and took steps to correct it. He cleaned his seed off Janie's thighs with a towel from the bathroom and wrapped her back up in her robe. He tucked her in bed and turned the lights off after scoping the room for any signs of guilt from their affair.

Mark was shivering and nearly blue from the cold shower when he realized that he had just put himself through the whole ordeal once more. He still wondered how he made it back to the party in one piece that night. He didn't remember the drive.

Chapter 20

"Miss.......Miss? Are you alright? Come on, say something... Miss?"

"Mmmm oh...my head!" Janie muttered when she was able find her voice.

"Christ! You're ok! I almost ran over ya with me car, luv"

Agonizingly slow, her eyes started to focus on the individual who was patting her hand with his. It was an older man, probably in his 60s. She fought with her pain for control over her thoughts.

"I need to sit up, please help me?"

"Certainly! Easy now. You have a nasty mark on your forehead." In her disorientation, she almost giggled at his pronunciation of forehead - far-ed. Janie's field of vision swam for a moment and stopped. She sat and chatted with the nice gentleman for a few tics, trying to regain her composure and to keep from tossing her cookies all over the patch of lawn in front of the building where she was now late for her appointment. His name was Henry. He was a janitor and had come in late for work that day. He had rolled into the car park and had almost run right over her. He picked her motionless body up and laid her in the grass. Henry was just about to leave her to go for help when she came to.

Soon, she felt able to get up and salvage whatever time she had left with the doctor. She thanked Henry and insisted that she was fine and that no, she didn't need to see a medic. He walked her inside to the lavatory, just to be sure. Janie's hose was torn at the knees and she had a ugly scrape above her left eyebrow. Other than that, she was physically no worse for the wear. She removed her hose and tidied up the best she could, splashing cold water on her face. IT wasn't until Janie was in the doctor's office 10 minutes later that she remembered why she had passed out in the car park.

"Ok, Janie. I know we talked at great length on the phone during your initial consultation, but I may ask you the same questions that I asked before - just to get perspective. Alright? Janie? What is the matter?"

The room was spinning. She had a death grip on the arms of the leather guest chair. Her eyes were clenched shut and she repeatedly mumbled, "No. Not again."

Dr. Blakely picked up the phone to call for help. "It's okay, doctor. I don't think I'll pass out again."

"Again, you say?" she cradled the phone. If you aren't feeling well, we can reschedule..."

"I'm here because I DON'T feel well! I'm sick and tired of feeling sick and tired!" tears brimmed her fatigued eyes. Janie knew that if she left right then, she wouldn't have the nerve to come back - quite frankly she felt a bit suicidal. She wanted out of her body, away from the emotions. She didn't think she could handle the lack of control any longer.

Dr. Blakely picked up on her frailty. She poured Janie a glass of water and began to practice her craft.

Calm soothing voice: "Janie - what is upsetting you at this moment. Talk about it." Janie stared at the floor. She took a deep breath and blurted out, "I think I fucked my lover's best friend. No. I'm sure I did - but I don't understand why...or how..."

"That is why you are here with me, Janie - to help resolve some things for you." 

Dr. Blakely picked up her Mont Blanc pen and began jotting some notes down. "Tell me what you remember..."

Chapter 21

Janie's session was only supposed to last two hours but she stayed an extra hour since Dr. Blakely's next scheduled client had cancelled. Janie was on a roll - looking more and more like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders with every word that left her mouth. She discussed her episode in the car park and what she could remember about her encounter with Mark. Janie shared the circumstances surrounding her last few episodes that she could remember.

Dr. Blakely noticed that Janie's recounting her liaison with Mark caused most of the color to leave her face. She made a note in the margin to ask - at a later time - what her feelings are about Mark. Was she repulsed by this? Was she simply upset that she had cheated on her significant other?

"Janie - our time together is almost finished for now. You've done very well. May I ask you some questions now?"

Janie took a sip from her glass of water, "Yes."

"You haven't shared this with anyone else, have you?"

"No."

"Why? Is there a distinct reason?"

"I don't know. I've been a loner all my life - I guess I just like to keep to myself." Janie wasn't totally comfortable with her answer - she just didn't know what else to say.

"I understand. In our next session, I'd like for us to talk a little about your life - your childhood. Maybe we can get to the bottom of why you have these "episodes." Jotting down more notes on the legal pad. "I've noticed that you don't mention the names of the people closest to you - with the exception of the older couple - The Forbis' - is there a reason?"

Oblivious that she had been doing that, she fumbled with her response, "Uh...well - it's like this..." She clamped her mouth shut, closed her eyes and took a cleansing breath, then looked straight at Dr. Blakely, "The gentleman I am - uh - was seeing is an actor. I do not share his name with anyone when I am relating stories such as these." Her manner was slightly snotty, although she didn't mean it that way.

"Hmm. I see. Are these just stories to you?" The doctor's even tone never wavered.

"No - I didn't mean it like that..." Janie was wide-eyed and apologetic.

"I understand, Janie - but you need to realize that this is your life." Dr. 

Blakely removed her eye glasses and leaned towards her client. "I understand you wanting to keep his identity to yourself - so that you aren't betraying him on some level - but you are here for YOU - not for him. I'm not asking you to tell me who he is, but I do want you to realize who the important person is here."

Quietly, Janie nodded her head and smiled. "You are right. Again." She chuckled and Dr. Blakely joined in.

"Same time next week? Do you need anything to help you sleep?"

"Yes and no. Drugs make me feel worse." Janie didn't want to have dreams like the ones she was plagued with after she took the codeine laced Tylenol. She decided it was best to duke it out on her own.

They shook hands and Janie left the doctor's office feeling like the things that were blurred in her mind were starting to get some clarity at first. She wondered how that could be. All she did was talk. The doctor only listened.

"Maybe I should start talking out loud to myself - it sure would save me a trip to the city and one hefty shrink bill!" she laughed to herself.

Her smile faded into a frown as Mark crept back into her thoughts - the clarity was now slipping away. She couldn't decide how to feel about him just yet. The thought of what she had done to Russell created waves of nausea. How could Mark take advantage of me like that? Her fists were curled so tightly that her nails drew blood in her palms. Of all people - I trusted him. Her scraped up knees screamed at her as she climbed into the SUV. She glanced into her purse and saw the envelope with the familiar writing. She bit the bullet and ripped it open, her hands shaking and heart pounding.

Dearest Janie,

I'm doing my best to honor your wishes not to contact you, but I need to see you just one more time - please, Janie.I know what I did was reprehensible. I have no excuse. There is nothing that I can say or do to take back what I have done. I need to say this to your face. I need for you to understand that I would never, in a million years, hurt you intentionally. I'm a selfish bastard, I know. I didn't realize just how far that went until I said the things that I did to you. I've been doing quite a bit of thinking about my life lately - and I cannot imagine it without you.

Can we meet somewhere? Can I call you? Can I come see you?

I miss you.

Love,

R

Tears slipped onto his letter, smearing the ink. Janie missed him unbearably in that instant. She suppressed the urge to call him right then and there and sob into the phone her undying love and passion.

"Russell - if you only knew how badly I've wronged you."

She longed to feel his hands on her body - anywhere...exploring...kneading... His lips on her neck. His teeth nibbling her ear. His hot breath whispering all the nasty things he wanted to do to her - with her. The suckling sounds intertwined with his growls as he masterfully sucked her clit and brought her into blinding orgasms over and over. She craved all things Russell. The musky-masculine smell of his genitalia as she serviced him nearly every chance she had. Those were the days, indeed. How she loved the feel of his velvet shaft on her lips. His hands tangled in her hair. His head cocked to the side, watching himself slide in and out of her mouth - grinning at her like she was giving him the best gift that he had ever gotten. "God damn it - to hell. What do I do now?" She muttered out loud as she felt her nipples become painfully stiff. She was a slight bit grateful to see her hormones back in action. The roller coaster that her body chemistry had been on since her miscarriage had left her feeling cold and dead inside.

Janie wiped her eyes and reluctantly made up her mind to get a hotel room and stay in the city overnight. The doctor's appointment had fatigued her and she didn't feel up to the drive back home.

Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep. Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep.

"Hello? Louise? I've been meaning to call you!"

"What the hell is going on, Janie? I've got about 10 or 12 messages from Russell to call him or his lackey - they want to know where you are."

Janie was speechless and somewhat embarrassed that Russell had called her publisher looking for her.

"Louise. I....." Silence.

Her publisher shifted in to Good Friend With A Shoulder mode and asked, "Janie? Are you all right? Want to talk about it?"

Although Louise was the closest thing she had to a friend, Janie did not feel comfortable discussing the root of the matter with her. Instead she explained that she had moved and hadn't been in touch with Russell to let him know. Russell's busy schedule and all had them incommunicado for a brief moment.

"You need to keep up better with that man, hon. He feeds your inspiration better than anyone else I have seen. I mean - this last manuscript that you sent me is your most focused work yet!" Manuscript? OH! Heavens! How could I forget that? I sent that to her ....when?

The day I miscarried.

Jesus Christ! How can I be so detached from even my OWN reality? Janie had finished it a month prior but was reluctant to submit it, given the personal nature of parts of the story line.

Focused? It all was a total blur to her. She wrote from the seat of her pants on that one - very little outlining and planning. It was if she was possessed by another soul.

Nervous laugh, "You liked it, huh?"

"Janie - you have come a long way in the years that I have known you. Russell brings out a side to you that I think you know very little about. This story was an exploration of it - but only the tip of the iceberg. You should bottle and sell him, Jane. You could make a fortune off him!" Louise cackled.

Janie faked a giggle in response and hurried to end her phone call, "Louise - I'll call Russell right now. I've got to run. Call you later this week?"

"That's fine, hon. You take care. Glad to see that everything is going so well for you! Bye!"

Click.

Well? For me? I don't even know who I am anymore. I know I feel stronger today, after talking to the doctor - but I have no center.

Janie started the engine and made her way out of the car park.100 yards away sat a non-descript gray automobile. A hand jotted notes concerning the day and time while the other hand held a pair of binoculars that followed Janie's every move. The binoculars were laid on the seat so that the driver could dial a number on a cell phone.

"Yeah. She's on the move. Follow? Got it."

Chapter 22

The undeclared feelings and unrealized emotions were crippling Mark. He set out for a drive to clear his head and wound up on the road to Janie's house. She would be angry, he figured - but didn't care. Mark had been thankful that Janie didn't remember their moments together - but now he wanted to tell her and lay all the cards on the table.

He loved her, he was sure of it. He hadn't felt like this about anyone. Lust? It definitely was that night that they had screwed like animals in heat. He couldn't take being without her. He missed her intellectual conversation. Her eyes. Her laugh. The way she would touch his thigh when she was speaking to him.

Russell? Damn the bastard. Mark's inability to deal with his emotions toward 

Janie was taking a toll on his friendship with Rusty. He suffocated when he was in the same room with him. As long as they were discussing work, he was confident and comfortable. When Janie entered the conversation, Mark became quiet and sullen - wanting nothing more than to pummel Russell for those horrible things he said to Janie. Yes, Russell had apologized a hundred times over and felt lower than a snake's belly because of it. It didn't change the fact that in Mark's mind, Mark was very possessive of Janie and had every right to be. He loved her and that was that.

He played the hypothetical scenes out in his head over and over. What he would say if she said this, what to do if she said that. Thoughts of her body and how she felt underneath him crept into his concentration - breaking it. Her hips - they fit perfectly into his hands. Looking down and seeing himself slide in and out of her - and the exquisite feeling. So tight. Such a perfect fit. Her eyes - full of decadent lustiness, searing into his soul...

At once, he had a revelation that was so mind boggling that Mark slammed on the brakes and almost flipped the vehicle. He counted days. Days between their night together and the day she miscarried. What had the doctor said? 8 weeks at the most? Eight weeks exactly.

What had he read in the magazine in the hospital waiting room? One more week and the sex of the baby would have been formed.

"Why had I not considered this before?" Mark gasped out loud. He rested his forehead on the steering wheel and winced at the pounding pain in his temples. His gut wrenched with the full realization that he could very well be the cause of Janie's physical condition and subsequent trip to the hospital. He was torn between turning back from home and from going to see Janie and facing the music.

"What do I say?"

Mark pulled to the side of the road and got out - to walk around and survey his emotions.

Russell stayed busy. He was waiting for some sort of response to the letter that he had sent Janie. He knew she would either write back or call - he was certain. Until then, there were things to be done on the farm. Scripts to read. Lyrics to write. Other things that he needed to get in order before Janie returned. He was confident that she would take him back and that he would spend the rest of his life earning her trust and love. For now, he had to keep himself preoccupied. He rang up Mark - to see if he would meet him for lunch in town tomorrow and maybe catch the footy game later. Russell was surprised that he had his cell phone off - the call went straight to voice mail.

"That Mark. What is he up to?" Russell chuckled and made his way out to the stables.