A quick review of where we were, and where we're going ....

After the Thanksgiving Day festivities at the Pub I was full, tipsy, tired, and Zack was otherwise distracted by the other brothers, football and Sheila's singular subservience, which served to get me royally steamed.  I decided to pack it in and go home and as I turned to leave, I see it.  

I thought, "Wait a goddamned minute here! Maybe I was not unduly alarmed!" 

I see Sheila, all heaving cleavage and sapphire blue eye shadow, with an ingratiating, insinuating, shit-wouldn't-melt-in-her-mouth smile on her heavily made up face.bringing a brimming plate of goodies to Zack, where he's changed his position from the bar to a seat in front of the telly.

I saw red and reacted.

I went over to Zack, took the plate out of Sheila's hand and turned it upside down on his lap. 

"There ya go, G-man! Maybe Sheila-Suck-Up here can hoover it up off your lap for ya! Enjoy!"

"NOW, I'm ready to leave. 'Nite all!" I called to all my friends.

Zack jumped up and yelled after me. 

"Chrissakes, Carol...it was just a fuckin' joke...I was calling your bluff...you suggested it...don't act like that....please.... Man...don't walk out....Jesus....Carol..Carol...come back here...!"  He looked around at all the guys staring at him.  "You all enjoying this? Don't mind me... CAROL!!!"

After leaving the Pub so suddenly Friday night, I walked all the way home and ended up sitting on the bench overlooking the ocean across the street from our apartment for what seemed like hours.  I smoked and fretted and re-ran everything that had happened.

My head was running madly as I contemplated the advice Bou had given me about not picking up the gauntlet, and dear Marie and Scarlet trying to calm me down, and everyone being so nice and supportive of my ranting. I never even spoke to Andy. I must have appeared demented. Was I that much of a whacko hot head?  Were my weaknesses so serious I could get derailed that quickly by someone flirting with Zack? 

There was so much joy and happiness in other people's lives going on behind the bar, what with babies and weddings and all, and all I could concentrate on was my perception of a flirtation going on between Zack and Sheila. In retrospect, she really was flirting with everyone.  I felt very guilty and made a decision to apologize to all my friends for mucking up their celebration with my own shit first chance I got.  Hindsight is always 20/20, isn't it?

At long last, I watched Zack drive up to our apartment and get out of the car, looking up at the darkened windows, running his hand over his beard. I could almost hear his thoughts.....

"Is she here? Is she still pissed? Will she talk to me?"  He didn't see me on the bench across the street. I was so confused as to what I should do. I was still angry, still a little buzzed, and felt very vulnerable. He was still very upset - I could tell... Did he find out about SID?  Oh, god ... Change is something I greatly fear, and the thought of life without Zack terrified me. How could I face life without him? Was he thinking like that? Thinking of living without me?

In retrospect, I honestly don't think I could have handled things at the Pub any other way. Probably not the most mature thing to do, but I go with my gut on most things, and this whole situation rankled deeply. I'm not an insecure woman. This wasn't about my self doubts, or my sensuality or desirability or lack thereof - it was about Zack and his apparent disregard for, and manipulation of, my feelings. I was royally pissed (British and American versions) and I handled it the first instinctual way that came to mind.  Can't cry over spilled milk, can I?  I will mend my fences at the Pub because I know my friends are forgiving -- Zack, on the other hand ...had I ridiculed him too much in front of his peers? Jesus ...

Well, there is comfort in routine, I told myself - and decided to go home, get into my comfy clothes, have a cup of tea, clean house like there was no tomorrow, and basically ignore Zack.

I used my key since he had locked the door, let myself in without a word and went to the kitchen to put a light under the kettle on the stove. There was only the light from the oven clock on and it was very dim and very quiet. As if nothing was amiss, I went to the bedroom, saw Zack sitting on the sofa, and proceeded without a word to change my clothes into very un-sexy track shorts and a tee. He looked at me like I was something on a petrie dish.

"Are you sane yet?" he ventured quietly but severely.

Poor choice of words, that, but I decided to overlook it.

"Probably not enough to satisfy you. What do you want?"

"An explanation would be nice."

"Get real - you don't need a blue print. You know exactly what happened and why I reacted the way I did. This isn't about misperceptions, jealousy or hurt feelings, Zack, it's about respect. I felt disrespected, ignored, trivialized, and it hurt like hell.  I've experienced those feelings before.  I fucking hate it."

"When did I ever make you feel like that?" 

"You didn't. Not before this, but I felt it last night and I won't tolerate it ever again. I'm not that needy."

"What if I am?"

"What if you're what?"

"Needy."

"What are you talking about, Zack? You had me. You have me. Obviously it's not enough."

His voice was a mere whisper.  "It's everything."

"Then what do you need?"

"I need you to let me be me - who I am - a man - warts and all.  Ok, I admit ... I look ... I see ... I smile ... I flirt ... it's who I am and it all means shit.  I love you. I can't control how women act around me."

"Bullshit - you encourage it."

"I have, and I can - but I never have around you - I wouldn't."

"But you did!  What about with Sheila?" 

"A glance in her general direction is all it takes to get her engines engaged, Carol. It was a fuckin' joke, Babe. At least it started out that way. I thought you knew that. You can't seriously believe I want her over you."

"You all wanted her."

"Wrong.  We were all looking - bein' guys - she was puttin' it out there and we were takin' it in like a floor show."

I looked down at my bare feet, unable to meet his earnest gaze. 

"I feel like an idiot.  I ruined your clothes..."

"Fuck my clothes. I think you're the fuckin' balls. What a display of female territorialism - I fuckin' loved it!" 

"But, you were so pissed off!"

"Yeah, but I was howlin' inside."

"You shit."

"I know ... C'mere, my little she-wolf."

He grabbed me around the waist, hugged me to his chest and chuckled deeply in his throat against my neck, then pulled back, held my face, and stared seriously into my eyes for a long moment.

"Sweetheart, you need to let me be me, and still trust me, and know that I love you. Can you do that?"

"Do I have to like it when other women come on to you? You are gorgeous you know."

"Talk that talk, woman!" 

I punched him lightly in the stomach then kissed him violently.  

"All I can promise is I'll try. Ok?"

"Am I gorgeous enough to fuck - like right now?"

I howled into the moonlit night as he lifted me up and we fell onto the sofa, stripped each other naked in a record matter of seconds, and engaged in strictly animalistic behavior.

Diabolical Un-doings 

We remained cocooned for awhile, enjoying our new-found intimacy, and avoided everyone, and the Pub, simply because we didn't desire anyone else's company but our own. Zack went to work every day and returned to our apartment where we had dinner,  talked, made love, and life was perfect. After a while, however, I started feeling that such exclusivity was selfish, and began to prod him to go out for a pint or two and "get re-acquainted with our friends at the Pub."

In reality, my main concern was coming in contact with SID and his run-away mouth.  I trusted him as much as I would a scorpion.  I am certain that what happened between us was somehow all his creation and I was used only as a pawn in one of his computer generated chess games.  I believed he would tell Zack his version of what happened on our "date" and all hell would break loose.  Those fears served to make me very anxious, but determined nevertheless, not to be intimidated by him any longer.

I still don't know if what he did to me was some sort of virtual reality fantasy he conceived and silkily carried out.  Maybe it didn't happen at all, and my memories and experiences are his self-made fantasies projected into my mind.  But how could he do this?  Technically I was clueless. The clearest indication I had that I was under his control was that I had no thoughts or hesitations about what we were doing.  I was on auto pilot and enjoyed the hell out of myself.  I am by nature much more introspective than that. 

All I knew was at long last, I felt confident and safe enough to urge Zack back out into the public eye without fear of disclosure about me and SID.  If he even thought about opening his mouth I would simply tear him a new one. 

I kissed and sucked Zack's earlobe, nibbled his collarbone and ran my fingers through his shining long hair, in an effort to entice and seduce him into a receptive mood so I could  launch my plan to re-enter the human race. 

"Let's go the Pub tonight and have a drink after work, baby.  We haven't been there for awhile and it'll be fun to see everyone again, don't you think? We need to congratulate Scarlet and Hando, and Terry's birthday is coming up and we need to congratulate him.  I just miss seeing everyone.  Plus that there are some new people we haven't officially met yet. Don't you miss everyone?"  I feather-kissed his resistant mouth softly.

"There are some people I miss about as much as I miss VD." he grumbled, running his hands up and down my back.

"Like who?" I asked innocently.

"Like Sheila - that chick gives me the heebies. Every time I go in there I feel like she's gonna  jump me. She looks at me like I was on the menu - it just freaks me out."

"She looks at all you brothers like that. Maybe she is interested in you because you're a handsome man.  Maybe that's her MOS. You can handle that, can't you? Just ignore her?"  I urged, sounding way more casual than I felt.  I wasn't sure why Sheila's in-your-face kind of approach unnerved me so. 

After due consideration on his part, and some delicate manipulations on my part, he eventually allowed me to convince him to meet up with me at the Pub after work so we could comfortably unwind and have a drink with our friends.  He's easy.

He buried his nose in my neck, breathed me in, and said, "I can't guarantee exactly when I'll get there, babes. There's a late meeting and I might not be able to duck out as soon as I want, but I'll get there as soon as I can. Will you be ok?"

I smiled up at him and hugged him tightly around the waist, "I'll be great - just knowing I'm waiting for you - otherwise, I wouldn't want to go. Thank you sweetheart, I need to get out for a night - just to keep in touch with those people who mean so much to me, you know?"

I got to the Pub later that evening and reluctantly sat at the bar because I was hesitant to engage Sheila in conversation.  I had no proof of anything but her hovering attention to Zack, well, maybe that's all I saw.  She hovered over a lot of the men.   I ordered a vodka tonic which she hastily put in front of me, and waited for Zack.  I sat next to Andy, introduced myself to him and bought him a drink.  He was so cute and rather shy but with a wicked sense of humor.  I was smitten immediately.   I also met Maxie and McKenna and bought them a drink to welcome them into the fold.

When Zack arrived later, he greeted everyone with unusual élan.  He spied Terry at the card table and went over to him, signaling me to join him.  He clapped Terry soundly on the back and together we wished him a very happy birthday.  I kissed him on the cheek and gleefully handed him the package I was carrying under my arm.  We had brought him a birthday gift of extremely questionable taste and he peeked into the package, let out a loud guffaw, then refused to show it around for general comment.  Sometimes he's so veddy veddy!  We spent a great evening and just enjoyed talking with everyone, relaxing  as we sipped our drinks. 

Sheila kept a respectable distance, talking with SID who had arrived late in the evening, dressed to the nines and looking gorgeous, as he well knew, and leered lewdly around the room, like a hyena on the hunt.  He gave me a smarmy smile and I nodded imperceptibly, hoping that by acknowledging his existence, he would be gracious enough to leave me alone... 

After some time I needed to use the powder room and excused myself, running my hand down Zack's cheek as I got up.

What happened after I went to the powder room I wasn't aware of at the time but was informed of later, in detail, by Andy, who was also at the bar and he witnessed the whole following scene; he told me after the fact exactly what had gone down. 

Apparently, after I left, SID slid over onto the stool beside Zack and made the coarse comment loaded with lewd innuendo, that I was "quite a woman," and  they were both lucky men to "have" me. 

According to Bud, Zack turned to stone, stared straight ahead, then whipped his head around suddenly to confront him like a towering wall of fury. 

"You're a sick mother fucker, SID.  What the fuck you talking about, psycho?  You shut the fuck up or you'll have me to answer to...You saying you and she...come on...she wouldn't touch you...no way....she just wouldn't.."

SID sipped casually from his drink and gleefully proceeded to verify his carnal knowledge of me.

"You doubt me, all-knowing agent man?  Well ... tell me this ... how would I know she has a cute little heart shaped birthmark on her upper right thigh.  H-m-m?  And how would I know she loves her belly button licked, and she screams when she comes, if I didn't 'know' her in the biblical sense?  H-m-m-m?" he purred maliciously.  "Oh, and she was so willing and so passionate!  We had a fucking flesh fest!  Ever consider a three way, Zackie?  It could be so outstandingly erotic!"   

Blinded by impotent rage, Zack grabbed SID by his perfect lapels, yanked him toward his face and realized suddenly he was beyond reaction.  He froze in numbed pain as the pictures SID's words conjured in his mind tortured him, and he was powerless to confront him.  He viciously flung him back into his stool and whipped around just as I was returning to the bar.

I had spent a little more time in the powder room than I planned, talking to Ann and Marie and Scarlet, who was waiting for Hando and feeling a little the worse for wear in her present condition.  As I walked back to the bar I could see from across the room that Zack's entire demeanor had changed dramatically.  My heart froze in my chest.  I asked him what was wrong, but he refused to tell me, only insisted that we leave immediately. 

"Why, Zack?  What's happened?"  I looked pleadingly up at him but his face was mask of stone, closed and thunderous.  All the way back to our apartment he was silent, brooding - as waves of dangerous fury came off his body like an aura.  He had an edge I had never witnessed before.  For the first time, I was afraid of him.  Once we got into the apartment he turned on me. 

He told me that SID had egregiously elaborated all the salient sexual details of our date,  including pointing out, by way of proof, the fact that I had a small heart-shaped birth mark on my upper thigh. 

My first thought was how destroyed he had to have been, hearing these words from the likes of SID.  My heart wept for him and I went into panic mode, racing around in my brain to try to come up with an explanation that we would both accept as true.

I tried in vain to explain to him that it wasn't really me - that SID had somehow downloaded data about me - all my thoughts, memories, experiences, and personality profile on some kind of interactive CD-ROM or some fucking thing and used it for his own pleasure - that what had happened didn't happen in reality because it wasn't me.  I stumbled all over myself trying to explain the unexplainable, because I technically knew nothing about what SID really did or how he did it.  Zack was immoveable and didn't buy any of it.  He looked at me like a bug under a microscope.

"You were willing enough to participate, apparently." he said, extremely bitter.

I tried desperately to make him understand.  He was so injured I could almost see blood pouring out of him.  God, I ached for him!  

"Baby, it was like another person was inside me - and before I knew it I was off and running with him.  I have no excuses except that he somehow knew all my buttons and was pushing them, maneuvering me, directing me - like I had no will.  I know it sounds crazy, but ... Zack, sweetheart, don't you see?  That wasn't me.  It was the me SID created - don't you understand?   Remember the chaos he created on Halloween - how he changed people, became people, messed up computer sites, boards, everything?  Remember what he did to Ann?  He did the same to me!  He made me the way he wanted me, so I would go out with him.  I was just a plaything he used until Sheila got here.  Now it's her he wants.  He's been asking her out and trying to impress her.  Since she arrived he's been nosing around her, acting all pc, but she's playing hard to get.  He has done this sort of thing before and I swear he'll do it again." 

In his logical mind, Zack knew the probable possibilities of what I was saying, yet he resisted, refusing to accept it.  He had spent years denying himself any emotional attachments or connections and now that he had let his guard down with me, he couldn't bear the thought that it might not be as critical to me as it was to him.  Within this, his pride was fierce and it disallowed him being convinced by my babbling explanations.  He remained aloof, withdrawn, distant, angry.  He avoided looking into my eyes.   

He shook my words off like shrugging off a jacket.  "Whether I understand or not is beside the point.  I don't care ... I can't get past the thought of you with SID - the visual makes me sick.  I ... don't care what the reason was ...I ....need to get away from you for awhile." he growled sourly. 

I broke into silent hysterics at this diatribe, my stomach knotted painfully,  

"I can't comprehend that you won't believe me, Zack!  Where will you go?"  I whispered, wringing my hands and fighting an onslaught of tears.

"Don't know."  

He went about mechanically, grabbing personal items and clothing, throwing everything into a travel bag, then turned to me, his eyes a portrait of abject pain.  The wound to his pride was more acute than he could handle. I knew this. Despite his unspoken understanding of what I had told him, he was hurt beyond his ability to bear.  His voice was a croaked, hoarse whisper. 

"I'll be in touch - don't know when.  Get on with your life, Carol.  I'm ... sorry."

"'Get on with my life?'  Get on with my LIFE?!  Jesus ... Zack! ... you ARE my life!  How can you do this - as if you didn't understand?  How can you leave me? ...   Oh god -- no -- please, Zack, don't walk out, baby, please don't walk out!  We can get past this."

"No...  I can't...."

I chased him out the door, pulling at his leather jacket sleeve, begging him to stay, to talk, to fight - anything - just not to leave.  I sobbed, "Please, my love, don't do this ...don't go....!" 

He shrugged me off gently but inexorably and walked without a backward glance down the hall and out the door. 

My world suddenly went black. 

For days afterward, I lived in acute agony over this turn of events, my heart lay dead in my chest.  In trembling fear, I returned to the Pub a few times and sat in a corner booth, away from everyone, and tried to compose a letter to him, but the words wouldn't come.  I was disconsolate and tried talking about him to anyone who would listen to me.  All my friends kindly listened, commiserated, tried to help, but nothing assuaged the grief that encompassed me..  He wasn't around, they knew nothing about what he was doing, or they wouldn't say, except to say he was working a lot, and no one knew what he was thinking. 

On one of those evenings I over heard Sheila's pathetic, delusional gloating to Bud about her perceived devastating effect on some of the men.  My paranoia could only hear one name -- "Zack." She was also trying hard to annoy SID by openly talking about her alleged flirtations as if to punish him for something unforgivable he had done.  

I couldn't resist listening intently, looking for reasons to believe she was after Zack and Zack alone.  You can hear whatever you want to hear, if you're listening desperately enough.  I couldn't help my snide remark. 

"If you'd stop advertising your wares so enthusiastically, maybe there wouldn't be so many potential customers, Sheila.  SID is rather more your type, after all - all flash, dash and miles of bullshit."

Andy was sitting with me at the bar when this occurred and he snickered into his drink appreciatively.  He rubbed his hand up and down my back to comfort me as I steamed.  In sheer appreciation of human contact, I attempted to engage in a brief flirtation with Andy that night - he is so adorable - but I made the ultimate decision  to stay away from the Pub and everyone in it for awhile.  The memories were consuming me alive. 

I spent my time going to work, haunting libraries and book stores, inhaling copy after copy of little books on self-actualization, self-knowledge, self-esteem, self-healing, and relationship repairing.  As I poured over these useless informational booklets I learned nothing I didn't already know.  I could tell them a few things.

I did try to apply some of what I read.  I attempted to live spherically - doing many things - and all with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.  I went to movies, continued reading voraciously, smoked like a chimney, cooked interesting little meals for myself which usually consisted of KFC with a biscuit and inevitably ended up in the garbage.  I logged on to my computer at all hours of the night, staying on line in group therapy chat rooms until my eyes were slits, and in general, slowly went mad.

I hated being home in the apartment I used to love.  It was a like a stage set for tragedy.  Everywhere I looked I saw him --  where he sat, what he touched, his coffee cup, the fuzzy pillow he used to hug when watching sports on TV.  His smell was still on my sheets and pillow cases, which I had been physically unable to change for fear his erotically unique scent would disappear. 

I slept on my own side of the bed, hugging his pillow, in the impossible expectation he would come back some night and slide into bed beside me.  There were bottles of beer and some fine wines he had left in the fridge, his toothbrush was still in the holder; he left a black tee shirt and shorts in a bureau drawer, along with a leather cord with a well-worn wooden cross with a shiny patina that he always wore around his beautiful neck when he was in casual clothes. 

I was in the deepest depths of despair.  Why had I been unable to convince him what malicious chaos SID was capable of?  Why did I have to?  Where was his trust?  Why was he so willing to believe the worst of me? 

I knew, of course, why.  He was a very proud man and the power of that pride rendered him implacable.  

Where would I go - what would I do?  I couldn't go to the Pub anymore - the memories killed.  Within their efforts to be kind, my friends looked at me with some barely disguised reservations, doubt, and a certain amount of judgment,  their eyes questioning -  how could I do this to Zack, who they all thought so much of?  I had no answers for them.  They didn't understand.  I longed to talk to Uma, but I was afraid if she didn't believe me either, her absolute directness would cut me to the quick. 

I wandered the streets like a homeless waif, sitting for hours on park benches, looking in store windows - seeing nothing but my own miserable reflection,  and hating that I allowed myself to be reduced to such a state of desolation by a man - especially after I had succeeded in being comfortably alone for such a long time.   

After a time I came to terms with the fact that Zack was not going to break down my door in the middle of the night and jump on me - something I craved with all my heart.  He didn't call, didn't write, and apparently didn't ask about me.  I had heard nothing about him from anyone. 

It felt like death - I was grieving as if someone had died.  I had died.   I continued on in this fog-like condition for days until a thought broke upon the horizon of my brain and I realized something - something significant.  Zack had never actually used the words that we were through.  This was unacceptable.  It was as if he was punishing me for the length of time he deigned fitting before he would allow me back into his life - if he let me back. 

I needed to hear him say the words that we were over before I could attempt to get on with living.  I needed to hear them at once.  I went straight to the Pub and, sure enough, there he was, assisting Sheila behind the bar and pulling a draught beer, a cigarette in the corner of his perfect mouth. 

His eyes widened in disbelief when he perceived me approaching with blood in my eye.  I must have looked deranged, I was so determined and focused on sorting this out for once and for all.  I went straight up to his face, stared him dead in the eyes, and didn't give him a moment to think about what was going on.  I grabbed his arm forcefully and pulled him from behind the bar.

"We need to talk.  Now!"

He allowed me to extract him from behind the bar and lead him into the darkened hallway in the rear where the rest rooms, office, and storage areas were.  He had a bemused expression on his face as if weighing how far he was going to allow me to proceed with this maneuver before he stopped me.

"What do we need to talk about, Carol?"

I pushed him up against the wall and pinned him, my hands fisted in his shirt. 

"You overlooked something when you left in such a hurry."  

"Oh, I did -- What did I forget?"

"You seem to have forgotten to say the rather crucial words that we were through.  You never actually said the words and I need to hear them."

"I did say it."

"No.  You didn't.  You said I needed to get on with my life.  You never said we were over."

"It ... was indicated." he hedged.

"I need to hear the exact words from your mouth, Zack.  I need to hear you say the words so I can believe them and get on with my life."

"I've said all I'm going to say, Carol."

I pleaded with him, hating that my eyes filled with tears.  "Please ... Zack ...tell me in your own words this it's finished between us.  I need the closure!   I need to hear the words!  If you won't believe me, at least give me this."

He stared at me, his mouth a tight line, his eyes misty with emotion, and slowly shook his head.  Frantic, I grabbed handfuls of his hair with both hands and demanded, "Look at me, Zack. Fucking look at me in the eyes and tell me straight out.  Why won't you do this for me?"

He didn't pull away from my grasp but said quietly, "Stop giving me orders.  I'll not say anymore than I've already said."

Without further reflection, I suddenly pulled him into me and kissed him hard, pouring all the pent up passion in the vortex of my emotions into his mouth, gasping and sobbing with the euphoric power of my arousal.  I pressed myself shamelessly up against him and felt him instinctively arch into me as he allowed me the kiss.  He smelled heavenly of malt, cigarettes, exotic musky male cologne and him.  His exquisite taste fired my lust as my head reeled and, between assaults on his lips, I talked into his mouth, beseeching, "Say it Zack.  Please.  Please say the words." 

He held me by the hips - would not put his arms around me - but kissed me back fiercely, his breath getting hoarse and heavy.  He was so incredibly hot in that moment I almost slid to the ground.  I broke the kiss then, and leaned my forehead against the front of his shirt, talking into his chest where I could feel his heart pounding wildly.  We both stood there panting for a long moment.   

"You're not going to say it, are you?"  I gasped.  "You're not going to give me that release."

He struggled for control of his breath as he leaned his chin on the top of my head. "No."

I looked up at him, tears now freely pouring down my face - afraid to put any hope behind the clear indication that his inability or unwillingness to verbalize the termination of our relationship might reflect some reservations on his part. 

The silence went on for a long time as we stared into each others eyes.  There was no pretense in the naked emotion between our individual stares.  He was a master of disguising his emotions though they surged unmistakably just beneath the surface - at least they were evident to me.  Seeing them helped me gain some perspective and make the decision.   

"Then I must do it, Zack ....you're making me do this.  This is me - telling you - we are indeed through.  It is finally the end.  I no longer find it acceptable to be ignored, punished or abandoned.  Now that it's official, I can begin my life again, and you can continue yours."

Fluidly, I stepped back from the warm solid wall of his body, turned on my heel and walked out, my boots clicking purposefully on the hardwood floor.  As I pushed the doors open and the night air hit my wet face, I thought ironically --- he had a raging hard on and the crotch of my jeans was absolutely soaked ... oh yeah ....we were through.

Days passed and he didn't contact me.  I reasoned bleakly that he must have needed the affirmation of the end of our affair as much as I did.  I'd like to say it felt like freedom and independence.  It felt like shit.  

In desperate need for somewhere to go besides home - somewhere to relax after work or whatever, I decided to go to Kings Rook again.  I strode in like I owned the place and  chose to take up residence in a dimly lit back booth where the candle on the table was nearly the only light, and I began to write in a journal about my life experiences, which helped to organize my feelings and thoughts, and to identify my emotions more definitively. 

I saw Andy on the street some time later and he told me Zack had started seeing someone.  His opinion was that it was revenge sex.  He said Zack had become bitter and irritable. 

"He looks for you each time he's in the Pub, luv, he asks discreet questions about your whereabouts - like have you been around and stuff ....he's miserable, I just know it,  and he's working long hours to distract himself."  Andy was absolutely endearing as he tried to tell me hurtful facts while tempering them with sympathetic little asides. 

He continued his report that simultaneously killed and cured me.  "He's taken to hanging at the Pub when he's not at work.  He chats up and flirts with everyone, sometimes Sheila, sometimes Cass or others, always acting like he's free as a bird.  But, y'know, luv, I think he's acting the part a little too well.  It doesn't ring true to my ears, and I'm a guy, I should know."   Very astute of Andy, I thought.  I was sure Sheila and maybe others, like Cass, who I know had a history with him, were saying all the right things with all the right affectionate gestures that appealed to, soothed, and tempted a hurt man. 

I hoped only one thing was true -- that if Zack was using anyone for sex it was for deeper reasons than just physical release.  (God, the pain of picturing him with another woman cut through my heart in two like a blade - I was immobilized with pain (perhaps how he must have felt when SID told him about us?)

I prayed he was using his knowledge and the FBI's powers of investigation, like the agent he was, to see if he could catch SID in some legal fuck up that could close him down for good.  I knew on some level that Zack believed me, but his pride and his fear wouldn't allow him to show it.  He would have had to keep it a "business" investigation.   

Andy said SID was jealous and monumentally miffed because Sheila seemed to be focused on anybody but him whenever he was around.  SID wanted her to know that he was her ultimate fantasy - that she should be concentrating on him, not Zack, or anyone of the other brothers.  But she kept playing her game and avoided him. 

Regardless of the pain, it felt better to be enlightened somewhat than to be floundering so in the dark, and I kissed Andy warmly, hugging him to me.

"Thanks, friend, you are an angel."

"Just tryin' t'help, luv.  You're way too pretty to look so sad all the time.  Things'll work out - you'll see."

The following week, one evening after a long work day of meetings, I sat in my favorite back corner booth at the Rook, sipping from a carafe of house wine, writing in my journal and enjoying that the words were spontaneously free-flowing from my head to my pen. When that happened it gave me a modicum of peace, a catharsis, as if I was pouring out my life's blood and pain directly into the ink and onto the page.  When the words didn't come, it was another story; I stagnated, got lost in my head, and just sat stultified.  Anguish sat, lead weight in my chest and grew like a strangler fig vine around my heart.  But tonight was good - the words and the wine flowed fluidly and productively.

I had my forehead in my hand, hair covering my face as I penned my sorrows.  I saw a movement near me and slid my eyes toward it without moving my head and saw a pair of fine, muscular, jeans-clad legs standing beside me  My first thought and remark was extremely rude and unsocial, "Get the fuck away from  me." 

As I glanced up to see who belonged to the magnificent legs, I looked into Zack's solemn face.  My heart cranked to a dead stop - my mouth dropped open in astonishment.  He looked utterly delectable, hair all ruffled and hanging over his forehead, his sea-storm, sad green eyes intently on mine.

"Am I in that?" he rumbled, indicating my writing.. 

"Zack!  How did you find me?"

"I asked Max where this place was."

"Why?"

"We need to talk."

"Oh.  Now you want to talk?  Why?"

"Because we do."

"Why?"

"Will you knock that off?"

"I'm sorry, Zack.  I just don't know what more we have to say to each other.  You've made your feelings more than evident."

"No, I haven't.  I fucked someone, Carol."

As this news registered in my brain, the room wavered, flickers of light burst behind my eyes and icicles of dread grew in my heart I stared at him, incredulous that he would tell me such a devastating truth so blithely.  My cold eyes masked the towering volcano of resentment and searing pain that was grew in my chest by leaps and bounds.  Was he here to finish me off or what?

"Congrats." I spat out bitterly.  I refused to ask him who it was.  I believed I knew, but I didn't want to hear it.  I silently begged him not to tell me a name because I didn't want to face any of my friends with a hidden agenda -- no secret agonies as I pictured the two of them together.  He continued, "It was revenge fucking."

"Hope you enjoyed it." I choked out sarcastically.

"Well, yeah ...I mean no ... I was pissed at you for hurting me again."

He leaned forward across the table at me, his hands reaching for mine.  I recoiled from his touch.  

"Carol ... darlin' ... look into my eyes.  I hated what I was doing.  I hated you - at least I fuckin' tried to hate you ...but ... I can't --- I can't get you out of my head.  I never wanted to give up control of my emotions to anyone, but I gave it up to you - and you ---. You're fuckin' haunting me and I want you to stop."

I barked a quick laugh at how weird that sounded.  

"You 'want me to stop!' That's rich.  Who tracked who down?"

He got up quickly, slid in beside me and took my face in both his hands. 

"Listen to me, sweetheart ...  I can't go on like this.  I know you were -- coerced or what the fuck -- that it wasn't really you who went with SID.  He put some kind of computer generated fuckin' spell or something on you, or conjured your image up and used it.  I know it, because Sheila told me he did the same thing to her. 

He has some way of inputting or downloading information about people into his computer, or maybe he hacks into their  personal computers, and uses the data he retrieves to create his own virtual reality scenarios.  I think he has a "file" on everyone, and with his virtuosity he could presumably create a robot life form of all of us.  I'm in the process of investigating him as we speak.  What he's doing is illegal and I intend to fuck him up big time, but the process is slow."  His eyes searched mine for permission to go on. 

Hearing this, I realized regretfully that I had given Sheila short shrift because I was sure if ever the truth came out it would be because SID had told her, and she would use the information in an attempt to win Zack over.  I was convinced of their conspiracy.

Relief washed over me was like a tidal wave.  My dearest Zack.  He really did believe me and was going to use his expertise, and that of the Bureau, to put a stop to SID's evil, insidious, not to mention illegal, intrusions into our lives.  I could have danced on the table top.  I put my head back against the booth, closed my eyes and sighed happily.  

He was strangely silent for a long moment, studying me.  I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"You never came after me," he said sadly.

I blinked.  Was I hearing correctly?  

"I ...um... yes, I ... what?  hello? ... I did ... I fucking threw myself at you and you blew me off!  Have you conveniently forgotten that?" I defended myself righteously.  Oh yeah, I remembered alright.

He pressed his forehead to mine and stroked my cheek with his thumb, murmuring  regretfully, remembering my visit to the Pub.  

"The whole time my mouth was refusing to tell you what you wanted to hear me say, my head was thinking, 'No.  I don't mean that. Don't listen to that.  Don't go.'  But at that time I didn't have all the facts I have now.  I really believed you had been bewitched or some fuckin' thing by SID, but I couldn't prove it.  Still can't - but I'm workin' on it.  .I used some other people too because I was looking for information I needed.  I felt torn in two pieces and I couldn't respond to the part of me that wanted you to stay with me.   It was like I was half frozen."

"Except for your dick."  I couldn't stop myself.  

Wincing, he continued, undeterred, letting my venom dissipate into the air.

"But you never came back after that - you never tried to contact me again."

"Why would I?  You do a bang up job of repelling someone when you want to, Zack.  I was totally convinced - I believed you were through with me.   I was afraid to approach you again after my scene in the Pub.  Rejection isn't a dish I'm overly fond of."

He looked contrite, his expression soft and gentle.  He traced my lips with his thumb.   

"Carol, I've been in fuckin' hell.... How can I convince you?   I love you - everything about you.  I love your feisty spirit, your wicked sense of humor, your directness and honesty and how you always try to protect me.  I love how fiercely you fight for what you want and believe in, and how you made me trust you and relinquish my control over my buried feelings, and how I believe unequivocally everything you say."

"Except when it concerned SID - and now we know why."

"Well, I don't know why - not technically - that's not my area of expertise.  I only know not to give him an entry into your psyche or if possible your computer, or he's got you and will use you to help him upgrade or evolve, or whatever the fuck he does."

He brought his mouth down and he drew me into an intense kiss.  He sucked my top lip into his mouth, effectively silencing us both.  He tugged and thoroughly sucked my bottom lip gently into his mouth until I heard him groan, then he fully claimed my mouth.  His tongue tasted and danced with mine as, with a hand on either side of my head, he plundered my mouth totally, sucking and nibbling mouthfuls of me until I was squirming with sheer pleasure under his assault.  I swayed bonelessly into his body, unable to sit upright.  He kissed me until I couldn't tell where I ended and he began.  I clung to him, feasted on him, until my head swam and I was sitting in a pool of hot wet want.

"What do you want from me, Zack?" I managed to breathe out, staring adoringly up at him.

"Your promise."

"Promise of what?"

"Not to be stupid."

I sat up, instantly alert and rigid.  "Excuse me?"

"Not to ever again be stupid enough to let me go - to let us go."

"That wasn't a joint decision, as I recall."

"Stop arguing.  Just promise me."

"I promise."  I tangled my fingers in his incredibly lush thick hair and kissed him again, probing his fiery hot mouth with my eager tongue.  He tasted like gourmet manna.  Awash in wet ecstasy I repeated,

"I promise...  I promise...god ...yes ... Zack ... I promise ..." 

He let out a deep sigh and we rubbed noses, "Can we get the fuck out of here?"

We left the Rook quickly and headed home before it could be suggested we get a room.

We kissed our way from the car into the hallway, barely making it into the apartment because I kept trying to push my knee into the growing swell in his jeans.  He moaned to himself and urged me backwards with his body into the house where he proceeded immediately to strip us both of our clothes with amazing alacrity,  

He buried his head in the cleavage he created by pushing my breasts together and laved each taut nipple with devoted ministrations his tongue and teeth.  He pulled long languid kisses from my mouth and with sensuous caresses kneaded my buttocks until I was floating in a senseless delirium, drenched with clutching need.  My senses were overflowing with the feel, touch, taste, smell and sight of the incredibly passionate man in my grasp.

I reacquainted myself with the beauty of his muscularly solid body as he cradled me in his arms.  I felt my knees begin to tremble and he picked me up, his mouth seeking the soft skin of my neck and collarbone then claimed my mouth in a bruising kiss. I wrapped my legs around him and he walked us to the bed as I crooned into his neck,

"God ... Zack ...you are the ultimate orgasm!"

He chuckled low and moved to the edge of the huge bed and lay us down on the soft sheets.  As he lifted his lips from mine for a moment, a half grin that had haunted me for so long creased the corner of his mouth.  He crawled over me and pressed his body down on mine from shoulders to hips to toes, marking the entire territory as his own.  I meshed against him, grabbing handfuls of soft waves at the back of his head, and tipped my mouth up to kiss the underside of his beard.  I pulled his face down and kissed every feature on his face with soft fluttering kisses, tasting every inch of his uniquely beautiful image, forehead, cheeks, nose, lips, and especially his brilliant magnetic eyes.  He wrapped his legs around me and took full possession of my mouth in a smothering kiss. 

He groaned gutturally as together we hungrily swayed back and forth on the bed wrapped in each others arms, delaying our desire to consume one another like wolves.  I reached my hand down to cup his swollen cock, wrapping my fingers tightly around the base of his engorged shaft.  A tortured moan escaped his lips as his hips rocked rhythmically into my hand, stimulating himself further. 

I pulled my hand away accompanied by groans moans of protest, and crept silkily down his body.  I settled between his legs, and let my mouth trail wetly up his inner thigh, nibbling, kissing and licking.  I slid down on my stomach and pushed my shoulders between his knees, parting them and flicked the tip of my tongue over the engorged purple head of his magnificent cock. 

"Jesus - Carol!  Holy shit ... "

I wrapped my mouth around his straining, bobbing dick and sucked hard.  I cupped his softly furred balls, kneading them gently and dipped my tongue into his weeping slit and tasted the honey of his arousal, savoring it.  I pinched it shut with my lips and breathed on it with hot breath and continued to lick him up and down the pulsing veins surrounding his erect flesh until a hoarse whisper tore from his throat.

"Oh ...Jesus, baby .. stop - I'm gonna come if you keep that up...."

"Not yet, love .... hold on.... I just need to taste you here -  nuzzled and sucked the base of his throat - and here ... sucked and licked his nipples one by one until he whimpered, . .. and here ... scraping my fingernail down the line of hair on his muscled stomach trailing it down to his pubic hair.  I lifted his heavy cock and sucked the skin of his scrotum into my mouth, and rolled my tongue around him.  I ran my fingertip lightly around the rim of his anus and probed it gently.  He arched his back toward my mouth and groaned in surprised delight at my unexpected touch, pushing himself toward the pressure and purring deeply in his throat. 

"F-u-c-k-k-k!" he exploded, almost bursting with shuddering desire, fighting against and then toward more of the unbelievable erotic stimulation I was giving him.

Suddenly he flipped me over onto my back and kissed me into oblivion.  He ran the tip of his nose down my body to my private folds, pinching my labial lips between his lips and darting his tongue hungrily into my core until I thought I would spontaneously combust.  He held my hands down on either side of me with both of his as he assaulted my folds with the relentless heat of his tongue and lips, applying gentle pressure with his teeth to the bud of my clit until I screamed for mercy.  I came, calling his name, exploding into his mouth as he lapped my flowing juices and penetrated me with his tongue for more nectar.  I clung to him cooing, and wrapped my legs around him, begging him to fill me with his hugely engorged cock. 

He fisted his hand around his erection and pumped his flesh a couple of times, coated himself on my juices and fed his cock with maddeningly slow mini thrusts into my quivering wetness until I was piercingly filled.  With a jolt and a rush of moisture, I cried out in pure joy as he then thrust deeply and surely against my pubic bone, burying every inch of himself in my vagina until he brought me to the edge of Eden again. 

"Come with me, Baby.  Come with me now." he grunted as he continued to thrust deeply in and out until, with a shuddering explosion of pure ecstasy, we reached our pinnacle and came together, groaning, rocking, and crying. 

Long moments passed in mutual silent awe as we floated slowly back down to earth.  My hands framed his face as I stared in wonder at this male perfection. 

"God, I love you, Zack."

His skin glowed soft, pink and smooth as he smiled and pressed his face into my hands. 

"Love you, too, darlin,' - for always."         

We were awakened the next morning all nestled and tangled up together, by Zack's buzzing cell phone.  He growled in annoyance and snatched it up to answer. 

"You shittin' me?" he asked whoever was on the other end.

"Fuckin' great.  Ok.  Be there soon as I can."

I looked at his deliciously rumpled image and patted the sheets seductively, but he was in and all business mode for the moment.

Shaking his head with a regretful smile, he sat on the bed and smoothed the hair off my forehead affectionately and proceeded to explain, 

"That was the Bureau.  They located the house SID was occupying but he wasn't there."

"Well, there's a big surprise."  I interjected.

"No.  But they found rooms full of all this super high tech equipment; computers, modems, lab equipment even, video tapes, CD's, some weird glass or plastic cubes with computer data chips imbedded in them, photographs of everyone we know,  and god knows what the fuck else."

"Did they confiscate it all?"  I asked, insanely worried suddenly about exactly what the FBI was now going to be privy to.

"Fuckin' A, they grabbed it.  What he was doing is highly illegal and he's gonna answer for it..." he said definitively. 

"Yeah, but you and I both know catching SID will be like finding a phantom in a fog bank.  He's too smart to get caught."

"Well, he's smart enough to know we're on to him now, and if nothing else, it'll keep him in deep freeze or wherever the fuck he goes.   I have enough fine points of evidence to nail his ass if he shows his face again." 

He got up off the bed after kissing me into a stupor.  

"By the way ...good morning, beautiful." He grinned,  and turned to grab a shower before he went to the office to kick some virtual reality ass.

I snuggled back down into his pillows and smiled like the cat who just ate the canary.