And on the third day there was great rejoicing across the land, because after MONTHS AND MONTHS AND MONTHS…..
Vicki’s story is finished!
*throws confetti* *Snoopy dances* *shouts with glee*
YOURS TO TAKE’s 55K words (first draft) are the hardest I’ve ever had to write. It still needs some work — specific holes I know I need to fill — but overall, I’m terribly pleased with this draft. I even managed to work in a small brownie joke that ties back to Dear Sir, I’m Yours!
Words added today: 2,089 (might try for late night shift after dinner in Golden)
NaNoWriMo total: 13,000
Snippet: This is still in the dark moment of the story, from Elias’s POV. (Follows the snippet from yesterday.) A bit longer to celebrate “The End!”
At 3:00 a.m. Elias sat outside Vicki’s apartment in his truck, took another swig of Jack straight from the bottle, and called himself a pussy. He’d been sitting out here drinking for half an hour, and still hadn’t found the nerve to go up and see if she’d let him in. Oh, sure, he could use his key, but that would feel too much like sneaking.
Maybe she’d changed the locks. She’d been pissed enough to do something like that, and for good reason.
That’s one thing he’d never done to a woman he cared about before, and it shamed him. It made him feel like dog crap to think about how scared she must have been to hear about a dead cop and then get his voicemail. He’d sworn to his first wife that he’d always answer the phone. Even if he was in the middle of handcuffing some dirtbag, he’d plant a knee in the jerk’s back and take her call. She’d still divorced his ass.
What the hell will Vicki do to me?
He knew he deserved the biggest ass-chewing she’d ever thought about giving him. He’d left her. Again. He’d hurt her. Again. Then he’d scared ten years off her life. Now he sat out here too scared to go up and face the music.
No, that wasn’t true. He’d always been able to deal with her temper. In fact, nothing turned him on more than watching her rip into him, teeth, fists, words, it didn’t matter. He loved it.
No, what scared the shit out of him was the thought of finding her in bed with Jesse. Maybe this time they wouldn’t be asleep. He’d catch them in the act and he’d…he’d…
What, blow the kid’s brains out? He knew he’d never do that. She loved the kid. It wasn’t Jesse’s fault. It wasn’t even her fault. Elias saw the way she looked at the kid and knew exactly what she felt, because he felt the same way when he looked at her. He’d do anything to be with her, wouldn’t he?
Even join them?
Yeah, that’s what made his stomach churn uneasily. Whiskey burned a hole in his stomach. He just didn’t know if he could do it. What it would entail. How it would feel to see her with another man inside her, to see the passion on her face and know it wasn’t for him. That’s what it came down to, wasn’t it? His pride. His fear that maybe she secretly wanted Jesse more. Maybe he pleased her more. Hell, I didn’t even suspect that she might like kinky shit.
Maybe someday she’d decide she didn’t really need Elias after all.
Much safer to walk now than to want and need her so bad and know he wasn’t enough.
He reached for the keys to turn the engine on, but let his hand fall back into his lap. He’d sat here too long with the bottle to even think about driving. That’s the last thing he needed. He could see the headlines now: Drunk cop runs down helpless old lady in the street.
He wasn’t drunk, not by a long shot. Because if he was drunk, maybe he wouldn’t care if she screamed the same way for Jesse that she did when he was inside her.
A flicker of movement drew his gaze up to the window. Her face, her hands pressed against the glass. Instinctively he scrunched back in his seat, but he knew she couldn’t see his truck, let alone him. He’d always been careful to park in the shadows untouched by the streetlights when he came to stand watch outside her door.
She looked up and down the street and turned away. Warmth spread in his gut that absolutely nothing to do with whiskey. She’d been looking for him. Hoping that maybe he’d come, even though they’d such a horrible argument. Even though she’d hung up on him and refused to answer his calls the rest of the day. He deserved her silence, her coldness. She had a handsome younger man in her bed more than willing to do absolutely anything she asked.
Yet she’d been looking for him.
He got out of the truck and shut the door as quietly as possible. He still felt like a slinking hyena as he crept up the stairs and silently unlocked her door, but he held that vision of her at the window in his mind. All the lights were off but she’d left the television on. Blankets were tumbled about on the couch, and he knew they’d been watching movies. Hopefully she hadn’t been daydreaming about slicing him up like those killer zombies.
He kicked off his shoes and tiptoed toward her bedroom. The door was open. She wasn’t trying to hide anything. She hadn’t placed homemade tripwires or secretly moved any furniture into his path, hoping the crash would alert her of his approach. Still, he hesitated at the door, just to the side of the blackness within, gathering his courage. He didn’t hear anything. No low moans, no sweet whispers, no thudding of flesh on flesh. No matter what he saw in her bed, he silently resolved not to leave. Not this time. He’d take his punishment like a man.
Boldly, he stepped into her bedroom and stood in the dim moonlight leaking through the blinds on the window. Jesse was flat on his stomach, asleep, his face buried in Vicki’s pillow. Elias’s pillow was twisted sideways, a dented, misshapen lump that looked like she’d been using it to beat somebody. But his side of the bed was empty.
He whipped his head around just in time to catch a glimpse of her flying out of the bathroom. She crashed into him and wrapped her arms so tightly he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to breathe. Not with her in his arms.
“Elias,” she whispered in between fervent kisses over his face and throat. “Elias. I thought I’d lost you.”
“I’m here, babe, and I’m not going anywhere this time.”
She jerked open his pants. “Prove it.”