tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11817533494991927282024-02-20T12:58:33.527-08:00Among Thieves~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.comBlogger29125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-43973056176401040462013-08-09T01:57:00.000-07:002013-08-09T01:57:43.361-07:00Chapter Twenty Seven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">AN: </i><b>Sorry for not posting in forever, a lot of stuff going on, anyways on with the story and , as always, also I know I said I would no longer put my own warning on the post since blogger if now forcing me to use theirs but on this one I thought it necessary ;)So, as always </b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Enjoy</i><b>. </b></span></div>
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After Kitty's party the day before Dani had gone with Shawn to his new apartment so that her brother and his new fiancee could have the house to themselves<b>.</b> Getting up the next morning she showered and washed the blue streaks from her hair<b>.</b></div>
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Getting out she re streaked her hair, this time in purple, and applied make up before getting dressed<b>.</b></div>
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Sitting outside she opened her copy of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, one of her favorites, and finished with rereading it for the third time<b>.</b> </div>
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Later that evening, after dinner, Shawn suggested they through on a movie<b>.</b> They ended up watching, ironically in Dani's opinion, Harry Potter and the Order of The Phoenix which he hadn't seen in awhile<b>.</b><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Dani -</b> You know in the book they<b>...</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Yeah<b>.</b><br />
He nodded, not really listening and trying to watch the movie<b>.</b><br />
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Shawn tried to comfort Dani as she started to cry<b>.</b><br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Shawn -</b> Come on, it's alright, it's just a movie<b>.</b><br />
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She jumped up, enraged<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Just a movie?! This <i>movie </i>is very important to a lot of people, there are people who have said this series saved their life and people who relate to these <i>characters </i>better than they do so called <i>real</i> people...myself included<b>.</b><br />
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<b><i>Dani - </i></b>So no, it is <b>not</b> <i>just a movie</i>, Shawn Berk, you insensitive jerk, but you don't care<b>. </b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Dani, wait<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani - </i><span style="font-size: x-small;">You don't care about how I feel<b>.</b></span><br />
She said, lowering her voice to little more than a whisper before he turned her back to face him<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Are you done? </div>
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He asked with a slight chuckle, putting his hand to his chin<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Am I done?! What the hell is the matter with you? Why are you being such an ass all of a sudden? You know everyone thinks you're <i>so </i>nice and <i>so </i>funny and <i>so</i> sweet and<i> so </i>god damn...<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> <b>...</b><b style="font-size: small;"> </b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Perfect</span><span style="font-size: x-small; font-weight: bold;">.... </span>What the hell was that? <br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I believe they call it a kiss<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Are you fucking kidding me? I have liked you since I was ten, <b>ten </b>Shawn, and you kiss me <i style="font-weight: bold;">now</i><b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> You...like me?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Oh, fourteen years and he finally notices<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I'm sorry, Dani, I'm really not perfect and honestly I don't know why people think I am<b>.</b> <b> </b>I'm a hyper neurotic perfectionist who cares to much what other people think of me, I can't cook to save my life, and I never knew you liked me<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Why now?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> What?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Why now, why kiss me now, why seem to like me back, now? What changed, Shawn?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>You<b>.</b> I hadn't seen you in years and you come back and suddenly you're not just Donny's little sister anymore you're this women,....<br />
Slowly she smiled<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Shawn<br />
He wasn't listening<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>this brilliant and funny and <i>gorgeous, </i>women<br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Dani -</b> Shawn, shut up<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> With all the piercings and the tattoo and I don't know, I just...<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Shawn!<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Yea?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Shut up and kiss me again<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Wha...<br />
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Before he could complete his response her lips were on his<b>.</b><br />
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He didn't hesitate to wraps his arms around her, threading fingers through her hair and removing the ties that held her pigtails he swept it to one side, he'd wanted her for months, ever since she came back into his life and now to know she'd felt the same and for years before<b>.</b><br />
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All those years of wanting him, finally coming to a head as he lifted her in his arms, still locked in a deep, passionate kiss<b>.</b><br />
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He sat on the couch with her over him and ran his hands over her shapely body, athletically tone from years of gymnastics<b>. </b>He couldn't believe it when she said they should move to his bedroom<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Dani...<br />
He sounded suddenly sounded unsure<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Shawn<b>.</b><br />
She replied in a playful mocking tone before switching to a more serious and lustful voice<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> I want you, I've wanted you for years, and now you're mine, at least for tonight, I have you, so let me <i>have </i>you<b>.</b><br />
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He bit his lip before standing up, taking her with him and shifted her weight so dropped and fell back into his arms in a carrying position, making her squeal<b>.</b> </div>
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He had never kissed a girl with a pierced tongue or lip before and when he to a second to actually think about it was pleasantly surpr yised didn't seem to get in the way at all<b>.</b><br />
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As he removed her shirt he had a brief moments thought that this may be moving too fast but there's now way he's stopping <i>now</i><b>. </b>Not unless she told him to and it didn't seem like that was likely to happen any time soon<b>.</b><br />
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Discarding her shirt to the floor he removed his lips from her, instead kissing along her collar and moving to her breasts<b>.</b><br />
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reaching the supple point of her nipple he closed his eyes as he enveloped it between his lips and heard her moan a moment later as, after multiple soft kisses, he brought her between his teeth delivering a small bite to the fleshy peak<b>.</b> He did this a few more times alternating between biting, sucking and kissing, before switching to the other side and giving it similar treatment<b>.</b><br />
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She rolled forcing him onto his back and straddled him as she quickly rid him of his shirt<b>.</b><br />
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He chuckled, same as before, as he rolled her off of him and started to sit up<b>.</b><br />
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Again she positioned herself over and in front of him, pulling his head back by the hair to reclaim his lips<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Jeans,...</div>
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She said in a heavy, lustful tone, and nipped his lip<b>. </b>He nodded,finishing her statement for her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Off, now! </div>
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Accentuating the final word with a firm smack to her rear<b> </b>making her gasp and him raise an eyebrow wondering if he really saw that familiar look in her eye, that slight gleam, or if he only imagined it and knowing there was one way to find out<b>. </b>Dani, of course was having similar thoughts as she pulled herself away from him<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Do you...<br />
She started to ask<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i> Top drawer in the dresser<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> The <i>dresser?</i><br />
She laughed as she dimmed the lights<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Nightstand doesn't have drawers<b>.</b><br />
Closing the dresser drawer she turned to face him before slowly sliding off her jeans and stepping out of them<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Now let me look at you<b>.</b><br />
Dani smirked, loving the authority in his tone<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Yes <i>sir</i><b>.</b><br />
She bite her lip as she displayed herself to him, a wrapped condom in her hand<b>.</b><br />
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Well, I think that answers that, he thought to himself, looking her over<b>.</b> He made a slow twirling motion with this finger telling her to turn around before beckoning her towards him as she turned back<b>.</b><br />
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He stripped off his own jeans before laying back on the bed and she immediately climbed on top of him, opening the condom and slowly rolling down his length, enjoying the feel of him<b>.</b> </div>
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Once she was done, in one swift motion he quickly flipped her to her back and pinned her arms to the bed, looking into her eyes<b>.</b></div>
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She let out a gasp, surprised and extremely aroused by this new side of him<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani - </i>I want you, now<b>.</b><br />
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He growled lustfully before attacking her lips as he entered her, as long as they'd wanted each other, admittedly longer for her and not knowing when, if ever, it would happen again, he planned to make this last as long as possible<b>. </b>He released her arms as he began working her body, she quickly wrapped herself around him and it wasn't long before her nails were clawing his back as she gasped and moaned<b>.</b><b> </b>He sat up, pulling her with him with an arm around her waist and bounced her in his lap, her necklace hitting her chest, as his other hand yanked her head back by her hair, eliciting a loud extended moan<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> You like that?<br />
He spoke, his lips hover over the flesh of her neck before sucking at her pulse point<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Awh, Yes!<br />
He stopped sucking to give her a quick nip before speaking again<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> You like it when I'm rough, when I'm forceful, you want me to bite you and pull your hair?<br />
After several tries she finally manages to say yes<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> You want me to fucking dominate you?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Oh fuck! <b><i>God</i></b> yes! Please<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Yes....?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Yes sir<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Shut up<b>.</b><br />
Her mouth hung open in silent gasp as her face twisted in pleasure, her eyes locked onto the mirror across the room, watching herself get fucked and she covered her mouth to muffle a scream as she came<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Good girl<b>.</b></div>
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He pushed her back down onto the bed and then rolled so she was ontop of him and leaned up on his elbows, hands on her hips<b>.</b><b><br /></b><b><i>Shawn -</i></b> Now it's your turn<b>.</b><br />
She laughed and shook her head, pinning him back onto the bed with her hands on his chest and earning an excited gasp much like she had made when he pinned her<b>.</b> She rode him to a second climax and her tightening around him brought his own<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> That was...<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> I'm not done with you yet<b>.</b><br />
She cut him off as she climbed off of him and moved up his chest<b>.</b> She buried his head between her legs leaning back, holding on by his hair, and looking down<b>.</b> She looked into his eyes the entire time as he pleasured her with his tongue eventually making her cum a third and final time<b>.</b><br />
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She throw the condom away before crawling into his arms and closing her eyes <b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Wow, that was...wow<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Yea. Worth the wait?<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Uh huh<b>.</b><br />
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<b><i>Shawn</i></b> - Donny's gonna kill me, isn't he?<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani - </i>Probably, do you care?<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Not a bit, so worth it<b>.</b><br />
She giggled softly, snuggling into him and it wasn't long before they both drifted to sleep<b>.</b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-47967580340180270122013-04-13T19:50:00.001-07:002013-04-13T19:50:14.848-07:00Chapter Twenty Six<div style="text-align: center;">
(Unedited)</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Since blogger has pretty much forced me to use their content warning I won't be posting my own anymore and I also won't be holding back ;) </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>Enjoy!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>Kitty's POV</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><br /></i></b></span></div>
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It's my birthday<b>.</b> I can feel Donny moving as he wakes up but am not ready to get up myself yet so I keep my eye closed and eventually drift back to sleep<b>. </b></div>
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I wake up to Donny leaning against our bedroom wall wearing a cowboy hat and nothing else.<br />
<b><i>Donny - </i></b>Happy Birthday.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Happy indeed. Haha<b>.</b></div>
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He pulls me into his arms, pressing me against him and I am starting to back us towards the bed when the door swings open.<br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Dani - </b>I was....<br />
She cuts off as she sees us and starts walking back out of the room backwards<b>.</b></div>
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From the other side of the door she gives of the message she had come to deliver<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Um, breakfast...I made breakfast, it's ready when ever you are.</div>
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Once we've heard her walk away Donny gives me a suggestive look.<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny - </i>Now where were we?<br />
Clearly he doesn't seem to think that being walked in on by his little sister was a mood killer.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Later<b>.</b> I'm going to go take a shower, you get dressed, but, ah, keep the hat<b>.</b><br />
He tips the hat at me with a smirk on his face.<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Yes mam<b>.</b><br />
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After breakfast we headed over to Hayley's new home, she gave us a tour and made me wear this doofy crown but I'll admit I couldn't take my eyes off Donny<b>.</b> You wouldn't think his pierced eyebrow and a cowboy hat would go together but on him it's just so goddamn sexy and paired with that button down shirt<b>...</b> After the tour we had sat down and had lunch, which was just fantastic, somehow, during the time she was....away, Hayley learned to cook<b>.</b><br />
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After we finished eating Hayley started subtly get everyone else from the room, and thought I wouldn't notice. Instead I was so distracted watching her shoo people away I didn't see Donny moving in my direction until he was in front of me, on one knee and my hands went over my mouth.<br />
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He took one of my hands in his own .<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Donny?<br />
He smiled at me, a big dorky grin and look into my eyes.<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Kitty, my beautiful, wonderful, Kitty, I'm not going to do this is a big long speech about how long I have loved you and how much because I'm not that type and I would hope that you know. So I am just going to simply say, Katherine Sharp, will you marry me?<br />
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He moved to sit in the chair closest to me, placing something on the table.</div>
I fought back another gasp as I picked up the small red velvet box and opened it, revealing the ring inside<b>.</b><br />
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After telling him yes I quickly went to find Hayley, who, of course, was not far and despite shooing everyone else away had remained just outside the room where she had seen and heard everything.<br />
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She still acted somewhat surprised when I showed her the ring, and of course told me how happy she was for us both.<br />
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The actual party, if you could really call it that, at my parents house was uneventful. Though my birth mother, Lisa, did seem oddly uncomfortable around my dad, at first I thought it was understandable that she might feel awkward around my adoptive parents but she got along great with my mom.<br />
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After the party Shawn and Dani went back to the house while Donny and I went out for a romantic dinner alone<b>.</b><br />
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After we finish eating we're both eager to get home and celebrate our new engagement<b>.</b> By the time we return the house was empty Dani having decided, after the events of the morning to stay the night at Shawn's new apartment<b>.</b><br />
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We barely made it to our bedroom before the clothes started coming off, not that it mattered anymore<b>.</b><br />
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Soon I was left in nothing but the corset I wear for such special nights as he hovered over my, gently caressing my leg<b>.</b><br />
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He gazed at me and raised his eyebrows before kissing me<b>.</b></div>
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Our lips barely left each other as we made love through the night<b>.</b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-77421548580001402722012-10-28T10:55:00.002-07:002012-10-28T10:55:20.795-07:00Chapter Twenty Five<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">(unedited)</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sorry it's a short one, and there's not really much going on, the next one will be better, promise<b>.</b></span></div>
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Turner and I went to see Lisa, having met her a couple times now and with Kitty's birthday coming up I thought it was time they met<b>.</b> </div>
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Shortly after we got there I tell them I have to go and kiss Turner goodbye<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I love you, I'll see you later<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> See you later<b>.</b><br />
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Now that I have Kitty out of the house I head back to her place<b> </b>to talk birthday plans<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> So we're agreed then, we'll the lunch get together at my house and then the main party will be at her parents?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Yea, the party isn't really what I'm concerned about<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Haha, right<b>.</b> We need to plan how you're going to propose<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Whoa, no, Hayley, I don't think I need any help with that, I already know what I'm going to say at the party<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>N<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">o, no Donny,no you can not do it at the party in front of everyone.....That sounded wrong. You can't propose to Kitty in front of everyone. </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Why the fuck not?</span></span></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 18px; text-align: left;">God forbid she says no, and then you're humiliated in front of everyone, or she wants to but doesn't because of everyone. Even given everything goes right, she says yes and means it that is still a very intimate and personal moment.</span></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> No what you need to do is do it at lunch<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Wouldn't dinner be better? Her and I are going to have dinner alone after the party<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Nope, no , the lunch<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Why?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Cause I wanna be there<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>He laughs at me<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> So it can't be a big thing, in front of everyone, but it has to be in front of you?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Damn right<b>.</b></div>
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A beautiful young woman, with several piercings ,walks out the back door<b>. </b></div>
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At first I don't recognize her , we haven't seen each other in years, then I see her eyes<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Dani!<br />
I can't help but grin as I wrap my arms around Daniella<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Hey ladies<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny -</i> Hey!<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I meant the <i>other</i> ladies<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani </i>- Hahahha! Nice going Bro<b>.</b><br />
Dani laughs making a face at her big brother<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> 'ey Shawnie boy<b>. </b>What's up?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Uh, I actually kinda need to talk to you about something<b>.</b> Well not need to I guess but want to, I need to talk to someone ya know?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley -</i> Alright, lets sit down and talk<b>.</b> And don't you usually go to Donny too talk to about stuff?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I actually didn't mean right now, and I can't talk to him about this<b>.</b> Just, remember I need to talk to you okay?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Ah, yea, whatever Shawnie<b>.</b></div>
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I as he walks off I follow the line of sight from were he had been hoping I might get some clue to what that was about<b>.</b> Was he looking at Dani?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Hey, Hayley, do you know a gym or anywhere in town that has gymnastics's stuff, I can't find one?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> Um, yea, if you want to come to my place<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Oh?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yea, we just moved to a new house, I did most of the furnishing, and I made sure the workout area included gymnastics's equipment<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani - </i>We? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes, me, my family, and some others<b>.</b> So do you want to come over?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Your family? You mean your man?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You'll see<b>.</b> Come on<b>.</b></div>
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I on the way to the house we went and bought new leotards and tape for our wrists and hands<b>.</b> </div>
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We stretched out<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> It feels good, doesn't it, to be doing it again?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Me -</i> Yea, honestly until I saw the equipment, when I was buying stuff for the house, I didn't even realize how much I missed it<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Oh my god<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What?</div>
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Kiara comes running up<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Oh my god, Daniella, Dani?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Kiara, I can't believe it, didn't think I'd ever see you again<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You two know each other?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani - </i>Well I should think so, we lived together<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Dani was my roommate, at school<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Mhmm<b>.</b> So, Ara, did you ever find your guy?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Yea, actually I did<b>.</b> Wanna meet him?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Of course, though I feel like I know him already the way you used to go on and on and<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Alright! Hang on<b>.</b> Adam...can you come her a moment<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Yes sweetheart? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> This is Daniella Leo, she was my roommate in school<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Nice to finally meet you Adam<b>.</b> Ara talked about you, a lot<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Dani!<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Haha<b>.</b> Nice to meet you too Dani<b>.</b> She's mentioned you to, though not nearly as much it seems<b>.</b> </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Dani -</b> She mentioned me? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Well yea, you were my best friend in that school<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Well, before I disappear even more, since I clearly don't need to be here , there's someone else you need to meet<b>.</b> </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> She's playing with Prince, her dog<b>.</b> Natalie, sweetie come here please<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Natalie -</i> Coming!</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> Dani, this is Natalie, my daughter<b>.</b><br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> Nat, Dani here is Donny's little sister and a good friend of mine and even of Kiara's<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Natalie - </i>Really? You don't look much like Donny, but I suppose you could each take after a different parent, or the genetic's combine in a different way<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Whoa<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yea, she's really smart for her age, tall too, obviously, she gets it from her father<b>. </b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Dani -</i> Oh, and when do I meet him?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> He's out of the house right now<b>.</b> He'll be at Kitty's birthday though<b>.</b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-54057134120761438502012-10-27T18:23:00.000-07:002012-10-27T18:23:01.154-07:00Among Thieves Q&A<div style="text-align: center;">
Obviously this isn't the latest chapter, sorry BUT that will be along shortly. I recently hosted a character Q&A event on the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Among-Thieves/285183301589118">Among Thieves Facebook page </a> where I asked readers to ask any character any question , sadly there wasn't as many questions as I would have liked but here it is all the same.<br /></div>
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<br /><b>Q: </b>Hayley, do you believe the one guy who didn't treat you nice at the beginning?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley -</i> Well, I'm not quite sure I understand, you should be more specific, but I'm going to assume you mean do I believe Adam, that he's changed or is at least trying to change and, the answer is yes.</div>
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Even if I didn't believe him when he first said so, it's been a couple years and I've scene it. He has changed, inside and out.</div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Q: </span>Adam, if Laura had not come back, do you think that you would have changed, or would you have become even more violet towards women?</span></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> <b>*</b><i>sigh<b>*</b> </i> I was excepting something like that, please call her Kiara<b>.</b> I'm going to ignore the fact that technically that would be changing, though not for the better, and just say that, honestly, I don't know<b>.</b> I would like to think so, I know I wanted to, I just, I don't know if I would have succeeded her<b>. </b>Let me tell you a story, I know you've learned a lot about my past but this is one important moment you missed<b>.</b> When I was about seventeen, we had been together just under a year I believe, we were at my house, in my room<b>.</b> My dad came in, mad about something, or maybe about nothing, I don't know. I told Kiara to leave, wanted her out of there before something happened, but I guess that was a mistake<b>.</b> When she tried pass him to get to the door he shoved her, he was just pushing her aside, to get to me, but he shoved her to the floor and.... I snapped<b>.</b> I had been old enough, and big enough to fight back for a long time at that point but ,I guess I was so used to it, I don't know, I didn't care enough to, I didn't really see a reason until then<b>.</b> I shoved him against the wall and told him that if he ever even thought of touching her again, or me or anyone else for that matter, he was dead<b>.</b> Sound familiar? It's the same thing Turner said to me, the same way he reacted<b>. </b>I told Layla, what I did to her and to Hayley made me realize how far I'd strayed from the person I wanted to be, and it did, but really it was that moment that I guess you could call my wake up call. I've never felt so disgusted,the thought it still makes me sick, to think that I had become just like him<b>.</b> </div>
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<b>Q:</b> Turner, do you see your self spending the rest of your life with Hayley, or is she just another girlfriend?</div>
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(Sorry, I don't have a new picture of just him lol)</div>
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<br /><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I'm not going to lie, of course there were girls before her, but I never loved any of them, and I never said I did either but even if that weren't the case, she still wouldn't be , as you said, just another girlfriend, because of Natalie<b>. </b>We have a daughter together, she's the mother of my child as well as the woman I love<b>.</b> So , yes, I do see myself spending my life with her, I hope I do. Not only can I see that happening, its all I can see, anything else has become unthinkable<b>.</b> </div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-28358184352917032102012-07-29T10:18:00.000-07:002012-07-29T10:18:57.397-07:00Chapter Twenty Four (SEASON TWO)<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>This blog is rated M for mature readers only, I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the adult subject mater remember that you where warned.</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>ENJOY!</i></b></span></div>
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<i>Why am I dreaming this</i><b>.</b></div>
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I can't figure out what made me think of it but I'm dreaming of the day Adam apologized to me, when he asked me not to say anything to Kiara. I agree to keep quite but told him Layla might be a different matter<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam - </i>Shit...Layla<b>.</b> What am I going to do?</div>
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I called her and asked her to come over, not telling her of course that it was to talk to him<b>.</b><br />
<i>Me - </i>I'll be in my study<b>. </b>Okay,see you<b>.</b></div>
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I sat on my desk so that he could have the chair and that way I was able to watch Natalie<b> </b>in<b> </b>her playpen as well<b>. </b> </div>
<i>Me - </i>She'll be here soon<b>. </b><br />
<i>Adam </i>- Thank you,Hayley<b>.</b><br />
<i>Me -</i><b> </b>Can I ask you something?<br />
<i>Adam </i>- Hmm?<br />
<i>Me </i>- What did was it, what did you have on her or what did you do or say for her to...<br />
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<i>Adam </i>- I threatened her<b>.</b> Her life...and Ian's<b>.</b> I said that I didn't like him and...and that I had plans for him she might be able to convince me against<b>.</b> She pretended not to know what I meant so I told her and that's when I threatened her too<b>.</b> She did it for him, He doesn't care,he just.. </div>
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He stopped short as the door started to open<b>.</b></div>
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She<i> </i>walked in and immediately glared at him<b>.</b> <br />
<i>Layla -</i> What's <i>He </i>doing here?<br />
<i>Adam - </i>I need to talk to you and...<br />
<i>Layla </i>- And what? I don't want to hear it<b>.</b> I don't care what you have to say, I'm not going to let you threaten me anymore<b>.</b> <br />
<i>Me -</i> You have let him talk...just listen<b>.</b><br />
<i>Layla</i> - Hayley, I can't believe you set me up,why are you helping him, after he's done, the way he's treated both of us?<br />
I couldn't say anything at for a moment after what I he had said<b>.</b> She had a point too, but not only did I actually believe him when he said he's at least <i>trying</i> to change, I also have my own reasons for not wanting Kiara to find out<b>.</b><br />
<i>Me -</i> If you let him explain you'll understand<b>.</b><br />
<i>Layla -</i> Yeah right<b>. </b> </div>
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<i>Adam -</i> Layla, I don't want to threaten you, I never would done it anyways<b>.</b> I've done a lot of things but...but please just let me talk,I <i>need</i> you to listen to me<b>. </b></div>
<i>Layla </i>- Well...No<b>.</b><br />
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<i>Me </i>- Layla you need to listen to him<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Layla </i>- Fine<b>.</b> </div>
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<i>Adam </i>- It's a little of a long story<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Layla </i>- Then give me the short version<b>. </b>The less time I'm around you the better<b>. </b></div>
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<i>Adam -</i> Alright, well, did you see the girl cleaning in the other room?</div>
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<i>Layla </i>- The new slave?<b></b></div>
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<i>Adam - </i>Yes,the new...slave<b>. </b></div>
For a second I saw the old anger start fall over him but then he calmed himself and a moment later<b> </b>he was smiling<b>.</b><br />
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<b> </b><i>Adam </i>- Her name is Kiara...</div>
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<b> </b><i>Adam </i>- I had just turned fourteen and she was about to be thirteen when we met and it was a year after that I told her I liked her and we where together then,until just after I turned eighteen<b>.</b> Her foster parents didn't like me and they sent her off to some school to get her away from me<b>.</b> She's the love of my life,my everything, literally, my mother left when I was too and lets just say I wasn't exactly close to my father so I didn't have family and we didn't have money so I didn't have much in way of possessions<b>. </b>All I had was her and then they sent her away and I had nothing<b>.</b> At first I was numb, unable to feel anything or care about anything<b>.</b> It changed me, I had been a good guy back then, hard as that is to believe but losing her, it made me cold and<b> </b>hard<b>.</b><br />
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<i>Layla </i><b>- </b>I should care why?What does this have to do with anything?<br />
<i>Adam -</i> After the things I did to both of you, I finally realized just how far I'd gone from who I wanted to be, and now I have her back and even more I, I just want to be <i>me</i> again<b>.</b> Layla, would you <i>please </i>not say anything to her? I can't lose her again<b>.</b><br />
She laughed at him<b>.</b><i> </i><br />
<i>Adam </i>- Layla,please...there has to be something, <i>anything</i>,I can do to convince you not to tell?<br />
While Layla is not as bad as I originally thought she is still quite capable of being cruel when she wants and the look that crossed her face at the moment could be considered nothing less then spiteful and vindictive<b>.</b><br />
<i>Adam </i>- Anything...<br />
Again she laughed<b>.</b><br />
<i>Layla </i>- Beg... On your knees<b>.</b> </div>
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<i>Me </i>- Layla!<br />
He looked at me<b>.</b><br />
<i>Adam </i>- No...I deserve that<b>....</b> Layla, please, please don't say anything to her<b>.</b> I hope you never understand what its like to only have one thing, one person, worth caring about in your entire life...and then to have them ripped away from you<b>.</b> I'm not asking you to forgive me, just don't say anything, <i>please<b>.</b></i><br />
<i>Layla </i>- I'll think about...<br />
<i>Me </i>- Think about this...losing her is what made him the way he was, now he's trying to change but if she finds out he'll lose her again<b>.</b> Why would you want to cause the one thing that could make him like that again? Forget about him, why would you want to do that to yourself?<br />
Like I said, I have my own reasons for not wanting her to find out<b>.</b><br />
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Opening my eyes in a daze I smile, pulling myself closer to Turner before closing my them and drifting back to sleep<b>. </b></div>
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I feel the cool water run over me<b> </b>waking me up before I turn it up<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Good morning my sweet<b>.</b><br />
<b><i>Me -</i></b> Good morning<b>.</b><br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Turner - </b>Like some company?<br />
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<i><b>Me - </b></i>Of course<b>.</b></div>
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<i><b>Me -</b></i> Could you get my back?<br />
He runs his hands gently over my back and shoulders<b>.</b><br />
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He wraps his arms around me and I lean into him<b>.</b> Kissing my head he whispers in my ear<b>.</b><br />
<b><i>Turner -</i></b> I love you<b>. </b><br />
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<b><i>Me -</i></b> I love you too<b>.</b><br />
I turn myself about in his arms to deliver a passionate kiss<b>. </b>His hands travel down my body as he gently moves me towards the shower wall<b>.</b><br />
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His lips move from my mouth to my neck allowing a to soft moan escape my lips<b>.</b><br />
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I cling to him as he lifts my legs and pulls me against him<b>. </b><br />
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<i><b>Me - </b></i>Make love to me Turner<b>.</b><br />
<i><b>Turner -</b> </i>Gladly<b>.</b><br />
He pulls me even closer to me and in a moment I feel him<b>. </b>Our bodies become one<b> </b>as we share in ultimate pleasure<b>.</b><br />
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Later, I sit in the cab on the way to meet up with Kitty<b>.</b><br />
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We meet up to hang out just the two of us at least once a month<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>So your birthday's coming up, you excited?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Of course I am<b>...</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Then why don't you seem like it?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> It's just<b>...</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yeah?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i> Donny and I have been together for so long now<b>...</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> And?<br />
<b><i>Kitty -</i> </b>And I still just his girlfriend<b>.</b> I love him but I can't keep doing this if it's not going anywhere<b>.</b> I just can't<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I don't know what to say Kitty, but if you love him you shouldn't give up on that<b>.</b> At least wait until after your birthday, you don't want go though a break up before your birthday<b>.</b><br />
I can't tell her what I know, that Donny plans to propose on her birthday<b>.</b><br />
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After leaving Kitty I take the half hour ride to my childhood home in Weston Valley to visit Sarah<b>.</b><br />
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We have a much better relationship than when I was younger and make an effort to spend time together<b>. </b>My father would want that<b>.</b><br />
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I come over about once a week and make dinner for the both of us<b>.</b>
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<i><b>Sarah -</b></i> You didn't bring Natalie?<br />
<i><b>Me -</b></i> Not this time<b>.</b><br />
<b><i>Sarah -</i></b> Are you leaving after dinner ?<br />
<i><b>Me -</b> </i>I usually do<b>.</b><br />
<b><i>Sarah -</i></b> I was hoping you'd stick around<b>. </b>I need to talk to you about something...<br />
There's something about her tone<b>.</b> I don't think I'll like what I'm about to hear<b>.</b><br />
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<i><b>Me -</b></i> So what do you want to talk about?<br />
<i><b>Sarah -</b></i> I...<br />
<i><b>Me -</b></i> Sarah?<br />
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She looks down, away from me, and sighs<b>.</b><br />
<i><b>Me -</b></i> Sarah? What is it?<br />
<i><b>Sarah -</b></i> I'm sorry Hayley, that we never had the relationship we could have, and should have had, when you where younger<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> But that was my fault, I can see now what brat I was<b>. </b>I acted out and I never appreciated the things you did for me or that you <i>did </i>care for me even if not loving me<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah -</i> But I should have loved you<b>.</b> I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I let my bitterness keep me from...<br />
I cut her off.<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Bitterness? When where you ever bitter?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah -</i> I guess I've hid it well but Hayley I can't have children of my own, I know I should have been grateful that I got to have you, and I was, but a part of me resented the fact that you're not my own <i>and </i>just as you were a constant reminder to Lawrense of how much I had loved your father you also reminded me that he had loved your mother<b>.</b> That despite what she did a part of him always would<b>.</b> I couldn't being myself to love you, because, as much as you hate her you're a part of her and...and I'm sorry Hayley, I'm sorry<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>Oh<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>Sarah...<br />
<b><i>Sarah -</i></b> I wanted to say that...while I could<b>.</b><br />
<b><i>Me -</i></b><i> </i>W<i>-</i>what ,what do you mean?<br />
<b><i>Sarah -</i></b> I have breast cancer, it had it before, it's why I've never had kids<b>.</b> They caught it early enough when I was younger but<b>....</b> <b> </b><br />
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<i><b>Sarah -</b></i>My chances aren't good Hayley<b>.</b><br />
I<b> </b>start to cry, Sarah and I have <i>finally</i> gotten somewhat close in the past yew years<b>.</b><br />
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Once I calm myself enough,I head home and go to find Turner<b>.</b> He's not in the rest of the house so I head to our room but still don't see him<b>.</b><br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> Where are you?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Hot tub<b>.</b><br />
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I climb in next to him and he looks over to me<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Something wrong beautiful? You look upset<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Me -</i> I visited Sarah today<b>.</b> She, told me that she....<br />
I start to cry again thinking about it<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> What is it?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>She has breast cancer, and she said her chances aren't good. She could be dying Turner<b>.</b> We've only just now gotten closer,though she never loved me I understand that now, I understand why she couldn't, she explained it and apologized<b>.</b> We finally understand each other. She's the only mother I've ever known, the closest I've ever had, I can't lose her, I just can't<b>.</b> I already lost my father, I can't lose her too<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I wish I could tell you that she'll by alright and everything will be okay but I can't, I don't know that<b>.</b> What I can do is be strong for you, I'm sorry that you have to go threw this but you know I'm here for you<b>.</b><br />
With that, he lifts me onto his lap and holds me as I continue to cry,stroking my hair<b>. </b>He wipes away my tears and kisses my face<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Don't cry<b>.</b><br />
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He starts to kiss my neck and I shift and tilt my head<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Ooh.</div>
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<b></b>He inhales deeply, smelling my skin and hair before whispering in my ear<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Lets move to the bed<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mhmm<b>.</b></div>
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We settle onto the bed and he takes my hand in his<b>. </b></div>
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He raises my hand to his lips and kisses it gently, then my wrist<b>.</b><br />
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He trails kisses along my arm before laying me back<b>.</b><br />
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He pushes my hair aside and cups my face<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Turner -</i> I hate to see you so sad, I'm going to try to make it better<b>.</b></div>
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I couldn't help but laugh<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh? You gonna make me feel <i>good</i>?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Just lay back<b>.</b><br />
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I shake my head and gently push him off,climbing on top of him<b>.</b> I'm still hurting about Sarah but this frives me in my passion even more, I need him, I need his love<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I'm not going to let you have all the fun<b>.</b><br />
He laughs and flashes that cocky little smirk I love<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Really now?<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Really<b>.</b><br />
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I tilt his head and kiss him and bite his lip as I pull away<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Let me take care of you<b>.</b><br />
He starts to kiss my breast, flicking at the hard tips with his tongue and biting<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mmmm<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You like that, don't you?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yea...<br />
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He lays me down again and holds himself above me, scaring into my eyes<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Are we done with our little game of back and forth?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> That depends....<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Turner...<br />
He laughs and in spite of myself I do too<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You want it bad, don't you?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> God yes<b>.</b> Now stop teasing<b>.</b> I want it Turner, I want it now<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Turner -</i> As you wish my dear<b>.</b><br />
In one quick motion he is inside of me<b>.</b><br />
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Holding my leg he slowly pushes deeper as I wrap the other around him tightly and use it to pull him even closer to me<b>.</b> </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> Ooh, Turner you're incredible<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Turner -</i> Not as good as you sweet heart<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes, you're a beast<b>.</b></div>
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I bite my finger,moaning, not wanting to scream<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Do have any idea how hot you look when you do that?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yea?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Yes, you sexy little goddess<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oooh Turner<b>.</b></div>
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<span id="goog_374253125"></span><span id="goog_374253126"></span></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-36144846883892736962012-02-28T21:18:00.348-08:002012-07-28T22:36:11.644-07:00Chapter Twenty Three (End of Season One)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>(unedited)</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone cannot read this, but if you have an issue with the somewhat adult subject matter remember that you were warned.</i></b></span></div>
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<b style="font-size: xx-large;"><i>ENJOY</i></b></div>
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I had gotten accepted to law school before but because of my pregnancy I'd had to put my career goals on hold and now that Natalie is old enough I'm registering for classes<b>.</b></div>
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My little fluffy puppy is there to great me when I get home so I play with him for a little bit and its getting dark by the time I head inside<b>.</b></div>
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Again I end up hiding against the wall, as I come in<b>.</b> I can't help thinking that he needs to learn to close the door<b>.</b> He runs his hand along the chain hanging from her neck<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> At least this one should be more comfortable<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Why did you do this?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> For you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" - </i>But why? You know they won't like it<b>. </b>You said they wouldn't touch you unless you did something to deserve it, what if, to them, this is something that deserves it?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>I don't care<b>.</b> I know you hate it here, I just want to make you as happy as possible<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> I am happy Adam, you make me happy, just by being back in my life but I, I just don't want to see you hurt, especially if it's because of me<b>.</b> </div>
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<i>Back </i>in her life? What does she mean back in her life?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Adam - </b>Just don't worry about it<b><i>.</i></b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Adam...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> We might as well get this out of the way, then we can tell them and we won't have to hide<b>.</b></div>
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He gently strokes her face as he speaks<b>.</b> Was I wrong? As impossible as it seems does he actually care about her? No, there has to be more to this<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" - </i>Let me tell Goldie, from what you've told me it seems like she probably wouldn't believe you<b>.</b></div>
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I move into the room<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What did you just call me?</div>
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They both get up and he quickly moves to put himself between us<b>.</b> It's almost as if he's protecting her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Hey, I was just about to come find you<b>.</b></div>
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He ignores me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone with her<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> I'll be okay<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Adam -</b> Alright my dear, I'll leave you to be<b>.</b> I'll see you later beautiful<b>.</b></div>
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He softly kisses her cheek before finally turning to me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I know you think I'm just toying with her, but you're wrong, you're wrong<b>.</b></div>
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He walks out of the room and she sits down on the couch<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> So, Goldie...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Don't call me that<b>.</b> You don't even know...</div>
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She cuts me off<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" - </i>Oh yes I do<b>.</b> It's what I've always called you<b>.</b>You didn't know I was from Weston Valley too, did you?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Me -</i> Don't call me Goldie<b>. </b>Why is it you seemed so shy when I met you, and seem so nervous around some of the others but not with me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> I can be shy around people I don't know<b>.</b> I know you and more I know I don't like you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Why? Because I don't want you with Adam? Believe it or not that's a good thing, I'm trying to help you<b>.</b> You need to stay away from him before you end up getting hurt<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUValSxoT5IkcIOZmXm_diTFvhdn5B0GW6Gl14Mia4BHdg6oLtlB2Xu3KHE-yF0UDHiIMcNsWcgqrePwBWdg5DOcN_DfKNxrVXGiViPfgWRdSnEpeRfAta2oJ36HE2qcxCmxQZ3h2h0w/s1600/Screenshot-847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUValSxoT5IkcIOZmXm_diTFvhdn5B0GW6Gl14Mia4BHdg6oLtlB2Xu3KHE-yF0UDHiIMcNsWcgqrePwBWdg5DOcN_DfKNxrVXGiViPfgWRdSnEpeRfAta2oJ36HE2qcxCmxQZ3h2h0w/s640/Screenshot-847.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Oh, trust me, he'd never hurt me<b>.</b> You just don't know him like I do<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> And you don't know him like <i>I </i> do, because despite what you may think, you don't know him at all, not the real him<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> God Goldie, you really haven't figured it out yet, have you? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>No, I guess I haven't<b>.</b> Why won't you listen, how can you not see though him, you were a nurse, you should be smarter then this<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i> "Laura" - </i></b>The man you saw just now, the one he is when he's with me,<i> that's </i>the <i>real</i> him<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I am really just trying to help you,to protect you, wither you believe it or not<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" - </i> You really just don't get it, when I said that you haven't figured it out yet I wasn't talking about why I won't listen<b>.</b> No one needs to protect me<b>. </b>As a matter of fact, I've been trying to get <i>him </i>to see that<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You think he'd protect you?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" - </i>Well He always has<b>. </b>He loves me<b>.</b><i> I'm</i> Kiara<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiXbermF1avQDFAqMERfqW_RjtBI-2jMvLP_0xydcINUJl4k6S8QsBkLsIvSSFLRzYGLlmvHS9ZXug8TcTbH5ejmaBM2vu6zo9xxR-9TjSlBwTu6BNPitlRJJ3UWVjJlwcmR6UwlZn34/s1600/Screenshot-848.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiXbermF1avQDFAqMERfqW_RjtBI-2jMvLP_0xydcINUJl4k6S8QsBkLsIvSSFLRzYGLlmvHS9ZXug8TcTbH5ejmaBM2vu6zo9xxR-9TjSlBwTu6BNPitlRJJ3UWVjJlwcmR6UwlZn34/s640/Screenshot-848.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I stare at her blankly and she smiles<b>.</b>Of course<b>.</b> I feel stupid for not seeing it before<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Kiara -</b> I know he told you about me<b>.</b> Do you not believe me or something? Now that you know, will you please just leave us alone and let us be together? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> He's not the same person he was before he lost you<b>.</b> I you realize that? We're told we can't change people and he told me he believes we can't change ourselves, so how does anyone change at all?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara - </i>We can change ourselves but only with the help of others and we change others but only if they want to change<b>.</b> </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> You think he wants to change?<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVePh0qm9PtGAxLRREIHYpOX1wS6m3EN6eWeOERqKGulI452ffbD2jiJF8GpvyvAcmG4Dtdl4u_1DnZ5NsmXiyXdg4V1QQ70NOVFE2SXlv5E4HnGsKg4LjiOcaMLBEkXCHUtifBzuBIlY/s1600/Screenshot-846.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVePh0qm9PtGAxLRREIHYpOX1wS6m3EN6eWeOERqKGulI452ffbD2jiJF8GpvyvAcmG4Dtdl4u_1DnZ5NsmXiyXdg4V1QQ70NOVFE2SXlv5E4HnGsKg4LjiOcaMLBEkXCHUtifBzuBIlY/s640/Screenshot-846.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i><b>. </b>My absence from his life is what changed him and made him who he is now, my presence will change him back, and already is<b>. </b>I know he's not the same sweet boy I met when I was twelve, but he's not this awful villain either<b>. </b>Anyways, he's down there telling the others about us so I guess I might as well head down there<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHz8T4tz_kQHV4Z_Zrn5HS1113yQ_PHPmEzyE-icAWsMCBE5m13j6-0VIv3bT3X5nsHb5yg1y0SCeT0zngoldvmBYQlXTucUN1YnwLhKAO0NYIpPKe7r3uqRDRN-_RlKWjRnhioWYnIs/s1600/Screenshot-849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMHz8T4tz_kQHV4Z_Zrn5HS1113yQ_PHPmEzyE-icAWsMCBE5m13j6-0VIv3bT3X5nsHb5yg1y0SCeT0zngoldvmBYQlXTucUN1YnwLhKAO0NYIpPKe7r3uqRDRN-_RlKWjRnhioWYnIs/s640/Screenshot-849.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I come down the stares behind her<b>.</b> The second her feet leave the steps she practically files into his arms and I watch as his face lights up<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuPVdsUyx6A7NZBfyDIx__Wh4hNfgnS9fp0Ohae1dLd26RIlZJpuJdYB39kMyFlffIuVli6iDskmqHfToozFGbUjyAH-CApVlWpMkYo4TvzG4cc0gIeXuZ2YNbu6btCTWEF3J4t5_cnI/s1600/Screenshot-850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIuPVdsUyx6A7NZBfyDIx__Wh4hNfgnS9fp0Ohae1dLd26RIlZJpuJdYB39kMyFlffIuVli6iDskmqHfToozFGbUjyAH-CApVlWpMkYo4TvzG4cc0gIeXuZ2YNbu6btCTWEF3J4t5_cnI/s640/Screenshot-850.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b></b>I can see the love in his eyes, and wonder how I missed it ever other time I've seen them together<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlh3nW8uOF88jvqSbLEDqRpdTLZcI6mSSD7rnnqWbOeERMkqmkNAd42m90QRP9zedMHiV9RW0SCCFBzLShNCDC_mqtEbmZ59utRIAyPdxa-XhlSFTH5MuTLxnU6vI-u7qDDNXMq6oganQ/s1600/Screenshot-817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlh3nW8uOF88jvqSbLEDqRpdTLZcI6mSSD7rnnqWbOeERMkqmkNAd42m90QRP9zedMHiV9RW0SCCFBzLShNCDC_mqtEbmZ59utRIAyPdxa-XhlSFTH5MuTLxnU6vI-u7qDDNXMq6oganQ/s640/Screenshot-817.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After that I head into the nursery <b>.</b> I scoop Natalie up off the floor and hold her close<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> There my baby girl<b>.</b> Mommy loves you<b>.</b> I still can't get over how fast you're growing<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJ4mtcRHc_3ZQIQCxYYDrbkA0Q871xPRBgWnesak2wyf1LJ4Pi2ekYwoxzlDJSS2rDbLUpa2pJ8rnPK2BRXwjpTICMpavqXWgymVvC-tcJZmv4Iiy_scw7pcEhDLhArHgr4nfkxeLHck/s1600/Screenshot-818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyJ4mtcRHc_3ZQIQCxYYDrbkA0Q871xPRBgWnesak2wyf1LJ4Pi2ekYwoxzlDJSS2rDbLUpa2pJ8rnPK2BRXwjpTICMpavqXWgymVvC-tcJZmv4Iiy_scw7pcEhDLhArHgr4nfkxeLHck/s640/Screenshot-818.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I pull away and look at her, both of us smiling brightly<b>.</b></div>
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With her big green eyes and black hair there is no question she's Turner's daughter<b>.</b></div>
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It's getting late so I put her to bed before heading that way myself<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>~*~</i></b></div>
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Now that I will be starting law school one of the upstairs rooms has been set up for me to use as an office or study<b>. </b>The men <i>got </i>me some paintings to decorate the walls<b>.</b> They're all from the same artist, a collection that was being being displayed locally<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHxh3LpAkyRSj5c8AAkDGPy5XR0DZT-JqxLhcWI-tPly06G-ZPN4HsLmCrktPbmppuip-R3ccE1-fgcNL4dW_9-Q4QyePJMIiM8eC44IY9wFSwPS5N0aXMMyWhGKMZvKNBvYQ_VWRW4s/s1600/Screenshot-775.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGHxh3LpAkyRSj5c8AAkDGPy5XR0DZT-JqxLhcWI-tPly06G-ZPN4HsLmCrktPbmppuip-R3ccE1-fgcNL4dW_9-Q4QyePJMIiM8eC44IY9wFSwPS5N0aXMMyWhGKMZvKNBvYQ_VWRW4s/s640/Screenshot-775.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The one directly above my computer is my favorite<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGbVTe1RQWYoqKQ3D0gVRNnBMAfC4Hhyht571wHQ-ikTNiy_Fc3IqE_Y2SmUX-D79kQOdT6Ob6DeefaFJcz9KjorzAcnLhxJI-qXthgVFxc7L_Mjq1_b6oba5zzVBe113tis8L7sopaw/s1600/Screenshot-677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXGbVTe1RQWYoqKQ3D0gVRNnBMAfC4Hhyht571wHQ-ikTNiy_Fc3IqE_Y2SmUX-D79kQOdT6Ob6DeefaFJcz9KjorzAcnLhxJI-qXthgVFxc7L_Mjq1_b6oba5zzVBe113tis8L7sopaw/s640/Screenshot-677.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Across from that, behind me, is a playpen for Natalie<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiQJdvcGutabbxWNdiSVH5Ul8bZdDDslrnsguVz9WlQcFkulpnPglDp8NsTjeOQTwZDU-Oqbg7af4zEHqe9QdBj8WeIWrMHAAPpAeQKsx9BLDkKfiCvPQvz2DltTGBMOM_Y3U-tw5p1E/s1600/Screenshot-676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSiQJdvcGutabbxWNdiSVH5Ul8bZdDDslrnsguVz9WlQcFkulpnPglDp8NsTjeOQTwZDU-Oqbg7af4zEHqe9QdBj8WeIWrMHAAPpAeQKsx9BLDkKfiCvPQvz2DltTGBMOM_Y3U-tw5p1E/s640/Screenshot-676.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I'm on my computer with Natalie playing behind me when Adam walks in<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFt3xvPlSjxXds1NE8c7Wbjgd58-Ap05G8TKLQ-hLpElIXH4gvcCdXLJ4FfjSxlZ1lY5R5y_xlO_G9yat05GDyxkyWKg54yL43FTzro9wSH7u_O5z7IZiuSnR7q27QCccukUr2QcvZag/s1600/Screenshot-831.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUFt3xvPlSjxXds1NE8c7Wbjgd58-Ap05G8TKLQ-hLpElIXH4gvcCdXLJ4FfjSxlZ1lY5R5y_xlO_G9yat05GDyxkyWKg54yL43FTzro9wSH7u_O5z7IZiuSnR7q27QCccukUr2QcvZag/s640/Screenshot-831.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I grab the bottle that has been cooling on my desk and give it to her before turning my attention to him<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfVQEenUF-YHOZYV4csLuqqjnmdJNRYI6bjOhBJYjy2AxZA_AUJ9f5rOfQMtVeMgY9C9uwpngNrQ2DrnrVEhInUWrbpwP7e4NAVxP1jKidLbUkZj3E5yefPIakwS9i0FiyXbjKGvTNcg/s1600/Screenshot-681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEfVQEenUF-YHOZYV4csLuqqjnmdJNRYI6bjOhBJYjy2AxZA_AUJ9f5rOfQMtVeMgY9C9uwpngNrQ2DrnrVEhInUWrbpwP7e4NAVxP1jKidLbUkZj3E5yefPIakwS9i0FiyXbjKGvTNcg/s640/Screenshot-681.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What do you want?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I wanted to talk to you<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Adam - </b>More importantly, I wanted to talk to you alone<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You and I alone<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Now why is <i>that</i> a bad idea<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Adam -</b> Do you think I'm stupid? The <i>only</i> way I would <i>ever</i> touch you or try to hurt you again is if I lose her because you<b>. </b>If that happened I wouldn't care if <i>does</i> kill me<b>.</b> And that's what I wanted to talk to you about, if you'll listen<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>I wanted to ask, to beg if I have to, that you not tell Kiara what I did to you<b>.</b> Even as much as she loves me I know she could never get past, that I would lose her if she ever found out<b>.</b> And I can't lose her again, I just can't<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Please<b>.</b></div>
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There is so much emotion in his voice, and in his face, love; for her, sadness, fear; of losing her, a part of me wants to give in to his pleading right now, but I'm waiting for something<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I really am, and not only for...<b>that</b> for...</div>
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He seemed to be trying to force himself to say it, his voice dropped to a whisper</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> <i>for </i><i>raping you</i>, not only for that but for <i style="font-weight: bold;">everything</i>, every time I hit you, or even threatened to, every time I said something I shouldn't have, all of the things I've called you, I'm sorry<b>.</b> That's not me, I don't want to be that person anymore, that monster<b>.</b> I'm trying to change, I <i>have</i> changed, I wasn't myself then, not the real me, the real me went out of my way to <i>help </i>people, I never wanted to hurt anyone<b>.</b> I know it's not an excuse,I still believe that, I'm not trying to use it as one<b>.</b> I don't expect you to forgive me, I know you never could and thats not what I'm asking, just that you don't say anything<b>. </b>Please!<b> </b></div>
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I just stand here, listening to him as he says all this, and stare at him, soaking it in<b>.</b> He means it too, I he believes every word he's saying<b>.</b> He's right, that he has changed, the man standing before me, pleading with me and apologizing to me is a very different person then the one who did the things he's apologizing for<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Alright<b>.</b> I won't say anything<b>. </b>And while you're right, that I can't ever forgive you for <i>that</i>, I do believe you that you're sorry, and I accept it, and not all at once, but <i>maybe</i>, <i>eventually,</i> I could forgive you for the other things<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Thank you<b>.</b> Again not just for<b> </b>this<b>. </b>Mostly thank for her, I know you didn't know it at the time but still you brought her back to me, and I can no more repay that then I could ever make up for the things I've done. Thank you, <i>Hayley</i><b>.</b></div>
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He turned starting to leave the room<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Me -</i></b> I won't tell her anything,but...</div>
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<b><i>Adam -</i></b> But?</div>
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<i><b>Me -</b></i> I can't speak for Layla.</div>
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He lowers his head putting his hands in his hair<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Adam -</i></b> Shit...Layla<b>.</b></div>
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He turns back<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> What am I going to do?<br />
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: x-large;">Author's Note:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;">Well thats it for now. Hope you all come back for season two :D</span></i></b></div>
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</div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-47002503439868987782011-12-23T00:23:00.000-08:002012-07-28T21:36:16.332-07:00Chapter Twenty Two (Part 2)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;"><i>(unedited)</i></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone cannot read this, but if you have an issue with the adult subject matter remember that you were warned. <i>ENJOY.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">(Still Adam's P.O.V.</span><span style="font-size: x-large;">)</span></div>
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I sit on the couch pulling Kiara down with me, holding her tightly and kiss her intermittently<b>.</b> </div>
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He father never stopped drinking, not long enough to get her back<b>.</b> It had been three years, she called me in tears,crying so hard I couldn't understand her<b>.</b> I went to her and getting there saw her gorgeous fiery red hair turned blond, her foster families latest effort to change her<b>. </b>I held her until she stopped crying, wiping her tears and kissing her face<b>.</b></div>
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Then I carried her to the bed<b>.</b> That was the last time we had been together<b>.</b></div>
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Suddenly I am overcome with the memory and with desire<b>.</b> In one fluid motion I sweep her up and move across the room,lifting her onto the dresser,pressing her against it<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I want you<b>.</b></div>
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She seems nervous, hesitant<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Kiara - </b>It's been so long<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Adam - </b><span style="font-style: italic;">T</span><i>o</i> long, my love, to long<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i>Yes, to long<b>.</b> </div>
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I undress her before stepping away<b>.</b> Locking the doors I let my own clothing slip off<b>. </b>Wrapping an our around her I pull back to me<b>.</b></div>
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She throws her head back moaning as she takes me in<b>. </b>I focus on her, on her pleasure<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Oh ,dear god,Adam<b>.</b></div>
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Bodies still locked together I lift her from the dresser<b>.</b></div>
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She takes control as we fall back onto the bed and it is my turn to moan<b>.</b></div>
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She is beauty and perfection and I can't help but watch her, as she drives me wild<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Oh yea,oh yea,oh yea, that's it<b>.</b> </div>
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Again my thought spiral back, back to that last time<b>.</b> We had fallen asleep in each others arms<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> Did you hear something? </div>
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Her foster parents found us together<b>.</b> They had never liked me and had tried in vain to come between us before but that was it for them<b>.</b></div>
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Now looking down at her I can't help smiling, thinking how lucky I am to have her again<b>.</b> I have her back and I won't let anything or anyone take her away from me<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I can't believe they're doing this<b>.</b> How can they even do this? You're only their foster child, they can't send you away<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> Apparently they can<b> </b>because they are<b>.</b></div>
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They shipped her off to some school somewhere<b>.</b> They didn't tell her were she was going exactly so that she couldn't tell me<b>.</b> So that I couldn't follow<b>.</b> </div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> No, they can't do this, I can't lose you<b>.</b> You're all I have<b>.</b> Don't go, I love you<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I love you too<b>.</b> I have to, I don't have a choice<b>.</b></div>
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We both cried as we held,thinking it would be the last time we would ever see each other<b>.</b> I'm not ashamed to admit that, I was never one to hide my emotions, I was hurt, heartbroken, so I cried<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara - </i>We should just run off<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> What?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> You laughed when I suggested it when we were younger, and I <i>was</i> half joking then but I really mean it this time<b>.</b> Lets run away together<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Where would we go? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> I don't know,I was renting a place before but its probably taken now, but anywhere better then here right?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> No<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> No?</div>
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When I turned eighteen to my surprise my father didn't try to kick me out but I left anyways, anywhere was<b>.</b> I lived in a car somewhat of a friend had given me for my birthday, we weren't close,they had gotten a newer one themselves and didn't think much of it<b>.</b>I lived that way,out of my car, for a few years<b>. </b>It was during that time that I first started stealing, picking pockets mostly, to be able to get enough food to make it though another day<b>.</b> Before I would have been appalled of the idea even while realizing the necessity of it but after she left I lost all feeling<b>. </b>I had truly meant it when I said she was all I had<b>. </b>I had no real friends, no family except my dad and he didn't count, and no home<b>. </b>Without her in my life I just didn't care anymore, about anything or anyone<b>.</b> I was unable to and it turned me cold and emotionless eventually to the cruel man I've become<b>.</b><b> </b>Eventually Turner found out about me, he makes it a priority to know of all the thieves in his area, I guess he watched me for a while, he saw I was skilled, offered me a spot among his thieves<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> If we left we'd have no were to go<b>.</b> I've lived on the streets, I can't do it again and I most certainly don't want that for you<b>.</b> It may not be ideal but I have everything we've wanted here<b>.</b> We have a roof over a heads and food everyday, things we wouldn't out there<b>.</b> Beds at night and a safe place were we can be together and no one will hurt us<b>.</b> They won't touch me, not less I fuck and do something to deserve it<b>.</b></div>
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I take her face in my hands<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> And you, I won't let them hurt you<b>.</b> And if anyone else tries to,anyone not with them, not part of all of this, they will protect you just as fiercely as I will<b>.</b> As I said, I know its not ideal and I don't like it but staying here really is whats best for us<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> But...</div>
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She stops short trying to this of what she wants to say<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> And that awful woman, she knows about us and she wants to keep us apart<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Goldie?</div>
I use the old Weston Valley nickname for Hayley, though older then her we also grew up in the town and everyone knew of the spoiled rich golden haired little... of Hayley Thomas<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> She's not so bad as she seems<b>.</b> I'd be more upset if she didn't want us apart, as it is, shes trying to protect you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Protect me, from you? That's insane<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> No, she only seems me as the villain,because thats what I've been to her, she knows about us but she doesn't realize who you are,she thinks I'm just toying with you<b>. </b>I want to tell them<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> I thought you said it was better if they didn't know<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I thought it was but she'll let us be if she knows and as for the rest of them, your foster family made you hide your past, I saw how much it hurt you and I can't do the same<b>.</b> </div>
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<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/iAXK0GuZhiM?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-7672672377486939902011-12-22T11:35:00.000-08:002012-12-21T11:50:12.202-08:00Chapter Twenty Two (Part 1)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<b style="font-size: xx-large;"><i>(Unedited)</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">This chapter was so long I had to cut it <b>.</b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>(</b><i>Adam's P.O.V.</i><b>)</b></span></div>
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I told <i>her</i> I don't remember when my mother left, that I was maybe about two<b>.</b> That wasn't true<b>.</b> I <i>was</i> two and I remember very well<b>. </b>I remember everything,my whole life since that night<b>. </b>Everything that hasn't been literally beaten out of me<b>.</b> I have gaps from blacking out after being hit but that night isn't one of them<b>. </b>I had never seen it before that night, she wasn't wearing make-up to hide it and I saw the bruises as she picked me out of my crib<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Linda</i><i style="font-weight: bold;"> - </i>I love you so much<b>.</b></div>
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Whispering so he wouldn't hear her she held me close to her, silent tears running down her cheeks<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Linda</i><i style="font-weight: bold;"> -</i> I wish things were different<b>. </b>I'll come back for you... someday, my sweet boy<b>.</b></div>
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I reached for her as she put me back<b>.</b> I wanted to cry out, but even then I knew not to<b>.</b> Even then I was smart enough to know she was leaving and to be afraid of what he would do if he caught her<b>.</b> I don't resent her for leaving<b>.</b> I only wish she had taken me with her<b>.</b> I know she wanted to, I could see it, but for what ever reason she couldn't<b>.</b> She said she'd come back for me, but she never did<b>. </b>I waited for years before realizing it wasn't going to happen, I wasn't going to see her<b>.</b> I don't know why she never came back, I tried to tell my self that it wasn't what I most feared, that he had found her,done something to her<b>.</b> </div>
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<i>Adam </i><i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> I'm hungry<b>.</b></div>
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<i>John </i><b><i>-</i></b><i> </i>You know where the kitchen is<b>.</b> You expect me to do everything for you?</div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">- </b>You don't do anything for me<b>.</b></div>
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<i>John -</i><b> </b>DON'T TALK BACK TO ME! You don't know how lucky you are<b>. </b>I pay for your food, your school, keep a roof over your head<b>.</b> Now go do your homework<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> B-b-but I already did it<b>.</b></div>
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<i>John </i><i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> I JUST TOLD YOU NOT TO TALK BACK TO ME, YOU LITTLE BASTARD<b>.</b> </div>
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Then he hit me again<b>.</b></div>
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<i>John </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I wish you'd just disappear ,like your good for nothing mother<b>.</b> The whore, probably not even mine, sure as fuck don't look like me<b>.</b></div>
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I thought about that for a while, I don't think that way about my mother, but still I wanted to believe the possibility that I wasn't his<b>. </b></div>
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I started volunteering at the hospital once I was old enough, anything to keep me out of the house, away from him<b>. </b>I was about to leave one day when one of the doctors told me he wanted to go talk to this girl down in pediatrics, he suspected abuse and thought she'd be more likely to open up to someone closer to her own age<b>.</b> I still wonder if he knew about my own situation<b>. </b>If he did, he never said so. Never did anything about it<b>.</b></div>
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That was the day I met Kiara<b>.</b> </div>
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A voice rouses me from my musings of the past<b>.</b></div>
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"What are you thinking about?"</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> You<b>.</b></div>
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Crossing the room I pull her into my arms<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Always you, my Kiara<b>.</b>The day we met, actually<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara - </i>You remember that? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> You know I remember everything<b>.</b> Especially when it comes to you<b>.</b> </div>
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I still don't know how I feel about her being here<b>.</b> I love her, love seeing her and holding her again, but then I see that thing on her neck<b>.</b> I can't stand keeping things from her but even <i>she</i> wouldn't forgive the things I've done<b>.</b> I don't want her to know how I've changed, what I've become, but I can't change who I am<b>. </b>Even if I could I'll never be who I used to<b>. </b>Yet, since her being here I know I'm already no longer as I've been either<b>. </b>I raise my hand and run a finger across her collar<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I hate this<b>.</b> I don't want this for you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara - </i>Neither do I but at least we're together again<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> You wouldn't go if you had the choice?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara -</i> Would you want me to?</div>
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Not knowing how to answer I change the subject<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Do you remember that evening, in the gazebo, back in Weston Valley? When we first got together?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kiara - </i>My fourteenth birthday<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I'm glad your here<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I snuck off from the party<b>.</b> I wish you could have been there, but... you know how my dad is<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> He wasn't drinking ?</div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> No<b>.</b> He doesn't drink when people are around<b>.</b> Why'd you want me to meet you here<b>?</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I wanted to see you, I like your dress, you look...</div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> Please don't say cute, I've had enough of everyone telling me how cute and adorable I look today<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I was going to say beautiful<b>.</b> You're beautiful Kiara<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> What?</div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> I like you Kiara<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Kiara </i><b style="font-style: italic;">-</b> What, what do you mean<b>.</b>You <i style="font-weight: bold;">like</i> me?<b> </b>I don't understand<b>.</b></div>
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<i>Adam </i><b style="font-style: italic;">- </b>This<b>.</b></div>
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I pull Kiara close and kiss her as I remember that first time<b>. </b></div>
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<i><b>Adam -</b></i> I still can't believe it's you! I thought I'd never see you again<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Kiara</i></b>- I knew I'd find you someday, and I swore that when I did I wouldn't let anything come between us ever again<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Turn around<b>.</b></div>
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I massage her back and shoulders gently<b>.</b> I can only imagine how hard all of this is for her, shes always been a neat person but she never had to do this much<b>. </b>Not while I knew her<b>.</b> At least cleaning is all she's made to do<b>.</b></div>
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I just want to hold her and protect her<b>.</b> I always have,even though in the past she had it better then me, and never hesitated to tell me so<b>.</b> That though, similar our situations were not the same, and I was the one who had it the worst<b>.</b> </div>
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I saw that for my self one night<b>.</b> We had been out together and I walked her home<b>.</b> Her father appeared by the door as we kissed goodbye<b>.</b></div>
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I was about to leave when I stopped, the bottle in his hand catching my sight<b>.</b> He raised it to take a drink as she ran to him<b>.</b> I wanted to stop her,to protect her but I was frozen<b>.</b></div>
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I wasn't able to hear what they said as the talked for a moment<b>.</b></div>
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The sound of flesh against flesh made me wince as he smacked her<b>.</b> She had told me, so I knew when I saw the bottle,I wasn't surprised, but still I had never seen it<b>.</b> He didn't drink in front of people,didn't hit her in front of people<b>.</b> He had started drinking after her mom died when she was ten,other then when she had had a broken arm when we met she'd said he'd only ever slapped her and always only once<b>.</b> His face softened as she held a hand to her cheek and he said something else<b>.</b> What surprised me was what came next<b>.</b></div>
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He hugged her<b>.</b> That was the biggest difference between our fathers, he loved her<b>.</b> I spite of everything, he loved her<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9yhsyeltqgATXAOKaag8oxWuEy-GRPRHbzplox7LgswhXdv3z_-KZoPEY4f3B6N0uCmyCPgj96jTIrfaFMvtHrj4at-vxu1Wg-1gtlNidC0s6LVNU8Nx-m9sqznME2FtF_FMI8lLNNM/s1600/Screenshot-429.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgV9yhsyeltqgATXAOKaag8oxWuEy-GRPRHbzplox7LgswhXdv3z_-KZoPEY4f3B6N0uCmyCPgj96jTIrfaFMvtHrj4at-vxu1Wg-1gtlNidC0s6LVNU8Nx-m9sqznME2FtF_FMI8lLNNM/s640/Screenshot-429.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She was taken from him within a week<b>.</b> The court ordered her father into rehab for his drinking and she was placed in a foster home<b>.</b> Her foster family seemed nice enough, they had money and gave her her own big room and new clothes and transferred her from Weston High to Weston Prep<b>.</b> Looking back though I realize the abused her too, not physically, be emotionally, physiologically, they tried to take away her past<b>.</b> </div>
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We would lay on the couch in her room, Kiara curled up to me, her head resting on my chest<b>.</b> She was always so miserable with them<b>. </b>It made me feel guilty<b>.</b> I thought that she'd be with nice people and he would get help and would stop drinking and get her back and they would be happy and no one would ever hurt her again<b>.</b> But that's not how it happened<b>. </b>She didn't know and still doesn't, that it was my fault<b>. </b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-5552733263010260642011-12-14T11:30:00.000-08:002012-07-28T21:35:46.839-07:00Chapter Twenty One<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4FWdfkpM-qfDi_ZTCj7-cDcQHx8Zc5cD8eqpNlPcpzQLgS3N5oqvGJIxsXbHwuJ7KBYxZKNXUZVLN8cZxGlML0sN78oGQ9xW5cLb1ocRQMwrzUAoJ0dMI8uia25Eokh5QYgElEy9bI8/s1600/Screenshot-319.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif4FWdfkpM-qfDi_ZTCj7-cDcQHx8Zc5cD8eqpNlPcpzQLgS3N5oqvGJIxsXbHwuJ7KBYxZKNXUZVLN8cZxGlML0sN78oGQ9xW5cLb1ocRQMwrzUAoJ0dMI8uia25Eokh5QYgElEy9bI8/s640/Screenshot-319.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" </i><i style="font-weight: bold;">- </i> It's most likely going to be any day now<b>.</b> I think since this is you're first and you have opted for a home birth it would be best to have you on bed rest for the remainder of the pregnancy<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqhEQmkc58qwl-Aoh1MngThLobMEesNtgH5HMmdgnGZIuyx88JYEpfEGmkAh6XuY1BkAAmwsugfeWDbd3L_T8lu7aDYOrdCj5tsE65P6e8BUgeNZSjYEsS6IXhyC7diAGAO14N0mo-kk/s1600/Screenshot-323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmqhEQmkc58qwl-Aoh1MngThLobMEesNtgH5HMmdgnGZIuyx88JYEpfEGmkAh6XuY1BkAAmwsugfeWDbd3L_T8lu7aDYOrdCj5tsE65P6e8BUgeNZSjYEsS6IXhyC7diAGAO14N0mo-kk/s640/Screenshot-323.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I hear her tell Turner the same and to make sure I actually listen<b>. </b></div>
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Turner stays with me gently rubbing my stomach as I lay in bed for most of the next few days<b>.</b></div>
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I make the bed, yet another things I still do so that <i>she</i> doesn't have to, and feel a sharp pain<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBse0PMZ5FaxkkMbREHaeofnn-RpiXqjWpgEiVDpt1WqWfUOpc98K26y6qNrF-wQCsF4W-pcsWzSNXsXqPCnDPMJJBTotvjP3cYA1fC7FRy89cawZYh8ez3-7LlEpbGKOkeUvErJ24Iqg/s1600/Screenshot-335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBse0PMZ5FaxkkMbREHaeofnn-RpiXqjWpgEiVDpt1WqWfUOpc98K26y6qNrF-wQCsF4W-pcsWzSNXsXqPCnDPMJJBTotvjP3cYA1fC7FRy89cawZYh8ez3-7LlEpbGKOkeUvErJ24Iqg/s640/Screenshot-335.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Turner, Turner wake up<b>.</b>Get Laura<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-pGfgmjvHYrgfUiaC5Y0KpxOKOofeF_letn00-gnWnexkCEpoV1LNKUUTOeGYifbUwKxeqlCjL9oneutQh_cHVfnBBN1Z02bd5lWmbVEI4KAnSS2bE3io58dZI7CJA8JJ8w7OI8mW9U/s1600/Screenshot-324.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu-pGfgmjvHYrgfUiaC5Y0KpxOKOofeF_letn00-gnWnexkCEpoV1LNKUUTOeGYifbUwKxeqlCjL9oneutQh_cHVfnBBN1Z02bd5lWmbVEI4KAnSS2bE3io58dZI7CJA8JJ8w7OI8mW9U/s640/Screenshot-324.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> -</i> Okay lay back and let me see<b>.</b> </div>
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She turns to Turner and that act of nervousness comes back again as she struggles with what shes trying to say<b>.</b> I think she's afraid of offending him, smart<b>. </b>I say it for her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Get back and stay out of the way<b>.</b></div>
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She nods slowly<b>.</b> </div>
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<b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> -</i> Do you want anything for the pain or are you going to chose to have a natural birth? </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> I, I don't know<b>.</b></div>
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<b>"</b><i><b>Laura</b></i><b>"<i> -</i></b>You need to chose quickly, once you progress to a certain point an epidermal or anything will no longer be an option<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I can't think right now, just do whatever you find best<b>.</b></div>
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I can't believe what I'm saying, but I'm really not thinking straight<b>. </b>I lay back breathing though the pains for a while only half aware of whats going on around me<b>. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6OeC0b6SBNRM760bfAW7-H1iKDHETHzrPOoU5PuS4uLwPS0ScZ1-YubTg1nFwhA8URHgMOESm13FTJ-FB_Ta99sRK4DfsnZrFV_n3jLymXMBolRUHJao85vh9h8QlbHuqpBVzpzEx5Yw/s1600/Screenshot-329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6OeC0b6SBNRM760bfAW7-H1iKDHETHzrPOoU5PuS4uLwPS0ScZ1-YubTg1nFwhA8URHgMOESm13FTJ-FB_Ta99sRK4DfsnZrFV_n3jLymXMBolRUHJao85vh9h8QlbHuqpBVzpzEx5Yw/s640/Screenshot-329.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b> "</b>Laura<b>" </b>looks again<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Alright<b>. </b>It's time<b>.</b> You need to push<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUL-rt6EQFQ8UNhafaYxuYIIiJ5CoUXMwYTKFEWZvgoF3Q-TIFQ_5xuQeShq94QxnpQNHpyGtYA-VAhunQtF_kvra2ZJdNpz6Mpki_kicoFIOTBoEJi6yDmLqZEInC0U7KckK6pY0_dE/s1600/Screenshot-327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRUL-rt6EQFQ8UNhafaYxuYIIiJ5CoUXMwYTKFEWZvgoF3Q-TIFQ_5xuQeShq94QxnpQNHpyGtYA-VAhunQtF_kvra2ZJdNpz6Mpki_kicoFIOTBoEJi6yDmLqZEInC0U7KckK6pY0_dE/s640/Screenshot-327.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I hold myself up on my arms pushing<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">"Laura" -</b> Now lay back again<b>.</b> You need to rest between pushes<b>.</b> Breath steadily<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZE1NZV8T3JAVCKZsBWHAf0Zf2_hl88zHBKH-HwT_Tbs0TG5yfJRdVIWb3IeoFfyQn_2EbI2YZq0fa3lhztrFU8XLJ_tlOjB74w_lvW-48z7mPZiGm4bWh7_8MGt5Lop82IKbF2HoTOuA/s1600/Screenshot-330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZE1NZV8T3JAVCKZsBWHAf0Zf2_hl88zHBKH-HwT_Tbs0TG5yfJRdVIWb3IeoFfyQn_2EbI2YZq0fa3lhztrFU8XLJ_tlOjB74w_lvW-48z7mPZiGm4bWh7_8MGt5Lop82IKbF2HoTOuA/s640/Screenshot-330.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> And push<b>.</b></div>
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Turner comes over and sits by me<b>.</b> Laura starts to say something, but stops short when he looks at her<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFllf2759e9MVVG7iHL-4ECozNdXCha-73SmUxOSVYAuFCQm3BsbJdsK8KidcWRYEYSm7TPAjhiqu2_8tlslNbjNYSRoPwKLAIxbqtduwE826ofARIBkBfNXxI-fKSP1ayc8xNbmnoJ8/s1600/Screenshot-328.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFllf2759e9MVVG7iHL-4ECozNdXCha-73SmUxOSVYAuFCQm3BsbJdsK8KidcWRYEYSm7TPAjhiqu2_8tlslNbjNYSRoPwKLAIxbqtduwE826ofARIBkBfNXxI-fKSP1ayc8xNbmnoJ8/s640/Screenshot-328.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I throw my head back, screaming and grab Turner's hand<b>.</b> He doesn't make a sound and tries to hide it but I see him wince form the tightness of my grasp as I squeeze his hand<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfrPY9l3psq_jYjJQ-BPRPZDue7AxB13f9ZYz0jdASrVqFkrlAR5-iRuycr8hzqRJoc_CjK0odjarm6FTf3x0VnELlrQRG61sm64XiE3o1fAgfP8gm6gWEvYQN6PecYaOkD-ZZbpcOKRg/s1600/Screenshot-325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfrPY9l3psq_jYjJQ-BPRPZDue7AxB13f9ZYz0jdASrVqFkrlAR5-iRuycr8hzqRJoc_CjK0odjarm6FTf3x0VnELlrQRG61sm64XiE3o1fAgfP8gm6gWEvYQN6PecYaOkD-ZZbpcOKRg/s640/Screenshot-325.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I lay back again, breathing<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura"-</i> Almost there, just one more push<b>.</b></div>
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She looks to Turner<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> Do you have anything to use for a swaddling cloth and...</div>
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I wonder how much of her being nervous and shy is an act, I know its not all fake but it doesn't always seem genuine either, though more so when talking to him then me<b>.</b> Again I speak for her though the pain<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>And get it for her<b>.</b></div>
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I feel him get up hesitantly, not wanting to leave my side<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> And something to cut the cord<b>.</b></div>
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I give one last big push as instructed<b>.</b> Laura may not like me, but she's a nurse first and she's not letting her personal opinion of me get in the way of that<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">"Laura" -</i> It's a girl<b>.</b></div>
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A girl<b>.</b> I have a daughter<b>.</b> </div>
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Turner and I wait as Laura cleans her up and brings her back wrapped in the piece of cloth Turner had found to use as a swaddling blanket<b>.</b></div>
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Laura hands my daughter to me and I hold her up trying to figure out if I can see any of Turner in her, or anyone else<b>.</b> I can tell she gets her skin color from me<b>.</b> At least I hope its from me<b>... </b>Turner and Shawn are both darker<b>.</b> God how I hope it's from me<b>.</b></div>
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Turner informed the others fairly quickly that we have a girl and a beautiful nursery was set up in no time<b>.</b></div>
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They also were able to get a nice warm onesie and an actual swaddling blanket<b>.</b></div>
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I hold her as I sit in the comfy arm chair and Turner stand as we start to talk names<b>.</b> We're having trouble find one we both like sadly<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Virginia? </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me- </b>NO! No, no, defiantly not<b>.</b> No<b>.</b></div>
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He looks at me strangely<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Virginia is my mother's name<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i> Oh<b>.</b> Okay then, not Virginia<b>. </b>What about... hmm<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What about, Natalie?</div>
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He smiles<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> Natalie? Natalie, I like it<b>.</b></div>
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I look down at our little girl<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What do <i>you </i>think of that, Natalie?</div>
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She makes a cute little cooing sound<b>.</b> </div>
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<br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/BlM7xluC8Bo?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-42564813106007214282011-12-13T22:55:00.000-08:002011-12-14T20:18:56.908-08:00Chapter Twenty<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAtz3zgQRxNPmtEMdW75tCoYs7iR3_2x5Z4QTB1BuYWUBAAe8g7Ev16V7NfYlOQUl_7HkHUFZTWqEP9xXxJGa0ChR_wLtErlQ2cluzgFbF-_BdVQkParFpBt8KnHa7EMWYTnW5wdGlDk/s1600/Screenshot-332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVAtz3zgQRxNPmtEMdW75tCoYs7iR3_2x5Z4QTB1BuYWUBAAe8g7Ev16V7NfYlOQUl_7HkHUFZTWqEP9xXxJGa0ChR_wLtErlQ2cluzgFbF-_BdVQkParFpBt8KnHa7EMWYTnW5wdGlDk/s640/Screenshot-332.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I snuggle into Turner, feeling his warmth and hold him, pulling myself as close to him as possible<b>.</b> Despite the comfort of his presence I can't asleep<b>. </b>The question keeps coming to my mind; "What if it's not his?"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAnLXsSWdnY5wj2-yXjHIAzEAn-if_zZ3BFhcKrUEJcV53sC8ZEpQRK-Xfj4GtWw82LmRHRxyg2AL_pt2lTUql54TRtanEU3PF0p5KBgklnyltkwVx8ELl_Nr8N1JTK69RyHuNgV2HrI/s1600/Screenshot-265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAnLXsSWdnY5wj2-yXjHIAzEAn-if_zZ3BFhcKrUEJcV53sC8ZEpQRK-Xfj4GtWw82LmRHRxyg2AL_pt2lTUql54TRtanEU3PF0p5KBgklnyltkwVx8ELl_Nr8N1JTK69RyHuNgV2HrI/s640/Screenshot-265.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Awhile later I give up trying to sleep, so I decided to head out into the main room. I find out that the shower is broken so I decided fix it. I have nothing better to do. </div>
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Laura comes in to help mop the puddles of water in the floor while I try to stop the spraying water from the spicket<b>.</b> She constantly complains, she doesn't even know how good she has it compared to what I had to go through<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> When you're done I need to talk to you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Um,okay<b>.</b></div>
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After getting the bathroom taken care we both head upstairs to her room<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> So what did you want to talk to me about<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> It wasn't stress...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> What, no offence but um, are you sure?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I went to the hospital and got a pregnancy test. I'm pregnant<b>.</b></div>
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She looked at me nervously<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> May I?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Sure<b>.</b></div>
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Once again sick to my stomach, throwing up my breakfast, I find myself in the bathroom. Morning sickness is a bitch<b>.</b></div>
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I lay back on the bed trying to let my stomach settle after throwing up<b>.</b> Turner lays next to me running a hand along my arm<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Are you alright?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yeah, just morning sickness<b>.</b> It sucks but it's perfectly normal<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> If you're sure<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I'm fine Turner<b>. </b>If it will make <i>you</i> feel better I'll talk to Laura about it alright?</div>
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He knows I'm teasing but still tells me it would<b>.</b> </div>
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Turner brought home a couple pregnancy books and we read them together<b>.</b> I wish I knew for sure that the baby is his<b>.</b> I don't know why, it doesn't matter<b>.</b> His or not it will be raised as such<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Turner, it's kicking<b>.</b></div>
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He smiles at me,placing a hand on my stomach to feel<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Turner -</i></b> Is there anything I can do for you?</div>
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<b><i>Me -</i></b> I'll be alright<b>.</b> </div>
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I wince stretching, my back sore and he rubs my shoulders and back<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mmm<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Better?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes<b>.</b></div>
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I've been taking full advantage of having a nurse in the house and visit with Laura regularly<b>.</b> Unfortunately today she had to complain about everything and even ended up telling me I'm a bad person<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You have no idea how much I've done for you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> For me? You mean to me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> No, for you<b>.</b> I told you before I used to be were you are<b>.</b> Think what you will about me but I have done everything to make sure you have things better then I ever did<b>.</b> All you have to do is clean<b>.</b> I still do all the cooking, I still fix everything, because after six years I've gotten good at it but you have no idea how many times I almost died fixing things and I make sure you don't have to do that<b>.</b> You have an actual bedroom thanks to me, were as it took me almost a year just to get a <i>bed</i>, and that outfit you always complain so much about, thats nothing compared to what I was made to wear<b>.</b> </div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Laura - </b>And this is supposed to change my opinion of you why? That doesn't make up for anything<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I'm not trying to make up for anything, I just don't want you to go though everything I did<b>. </b>Slave or <i>girl</i> were the better things I was called, I call you by name<b>.</b></div>
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She look me in the eyes and there is suddenly a slight hint of deviousness<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> No you don't<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes, I call you Laura<b>.</b> Thats the name you gave me<b>.</b></div>
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She smiles<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Laura -</i></b> I lied<b>.</b></div>
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Well I wasn't expecting that<b>. </b>She seemed so sweet and shy when I picked her out<b>.</b> I think of asking what her name is but realize it doesn't really make a difference<b>. </b></div>
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Riley catches me as I leave "Laura's" room and asks to feel the baby<b>.</b></div>
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My old room has been remodeled into being just a kitchen, and a very nice one at that, and the washer and dryer moved to the main room<b>.</b> </div>
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I enjoy the new kitchen , cutting cheese to have some cheese and crackers<b>.</b></div>
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After eating I talk to "Laura," still don't know what else to call her<b>.</b></div>
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<b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><b>"</b><b style="font-style: italic;"> - </b>You're starting to get pretty big, not long now<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1IUEjXqBi3ea12zPf91WSJA5LmzhSWXMBR7Sjf_CSRiKyXw0ySUPlsFEM5PEEq56ofScP8ge23wPSVKnrrZDI1tJyGcjnWAO4ECT3aaqNhifWlr0BlueYw7KAyQD2vlj6SlZx_THbyc/s1600/Screenshot-322.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH1IUEjXqBi3ea12zPf91WSJA5LmzhSWXMBR7Sjf_CSRiKyXw0ySUPlsFEM5PEEq56ofScP8ge23wPSVKnrrZDI1tJyGcjnWAO4ECT3aaqNhifWlr0BlueYw7KAyQD2vlj6SlZx_THbyc/s640/Screenshot-322.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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She then goes to talk to Turner<b> </b>about something and I listen in<b>.</b></div>
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<b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">- </i>I'm no idiot, I know what goes on here and I know you're the one in charge<b>.</b> Now, would you be able to um, <i>acquire </i>somethings from the hospital? </div>
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Is she asking him to steal something?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Like what?</div>
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<b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><b>"</b><i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> Mostly pain drugs, for the birth<b>.</b> She know she's decided to do things here but I think it would be best<b>. </b>I used to help with birthing quite often and I know that natural birth is generally not preferred<b>.</b></div>
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Hmm, I hadn't thought of this<b>.</b> It's moments like this that remind me she is smart... despite her little thing with Adam<b>.</b> </div>
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<span style="font-weight: bold;">"</span><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura</i><span style="font-weight: bold;">"</span><i style="font-weight: bold;"> -</i> She could still chose nature birth if she wants but this way we can have things here if not<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I see, I'm sure I can arrange something<b>.</b> </div>
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</div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-83976295854481534792011-12-06T19:30:00.000-08:002011-12-06T18:44:02.258-08:00Chapter Nineteen<div style="text-align: center;">
<b style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;">This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the adult</b><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> subject and imagery remember that you were warned.</span></b><i style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;"> </i></div>
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<i style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;">ENJOY.</i></div>
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Laura's words kept repeating in my head<b>.</b> Could I be pregnant? I head to the hospital to find out for sure<b>. </b>I don't trust those home tests and I want a professional opinion<b>.</b> </div>
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I head into town, I had told Turner about Kitty and the three of us are meeting up<b>. </b>I'm meeting her first and he'll be there a little later<b>.</b> Though I told them, this will be their first time meeting<b>.</b> Walking in, I hug Kitty<b>.</b> She was actually not surprised to learn that I've gone back, I didn't realize I was that predictable, but maybe she just knows me that well<b>.</b> That her birth mother was his sister, however, now that surprised her<b>.</b> She had always known that she was adopted and all her parents knew about it was that there was no father involved in the adoption, but she was never interested in finding out more<b>. </b>She assumed her mother didn't want her, used to tell me she wanted as much to do with her mother as I do mine, so image her reaction to all of this<b>.</b> Seeing them together I can't help but marvel at how much they look alike and to wonder how I didn't realize it sooner<b>.</b> I mean yes when I left and when I first saw Kitty I thought right way that she looked like him but how did I know realize before that, that he looks like her? </div>
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After staring at Kitty for a moment, Turner surprises me pulling out a bunch of flowers<b>.</b></div>
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We all sit and talk and just generally hang out and then I get a phone call<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Hello<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Kitty -</i> I should get going<b>.</b><br />
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I hug her goodbye, telling the person on the phone to hold on a minute<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> This was fun<b>.</b> See you soon?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Definitely<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes<b>.</b> Really? Thank you<b>.</b><br />
I hang up, smile on my face<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> What was that?<br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I was just informed that I got into law school at the University<b>.</b><br />
<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Oh?<br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> I'll probably become criminal defense, or maybe private law, certainly not prosecution though, with my life<b>.</b> We both laugh<b>.</b><br />
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Later back at home my phone goes off yet again<b>.</b> The hospital, my test results<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Hello? Yes<b>.</b> Okay<b>.</b> Thank you<b>.</b></div>
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Hanging up I run to the bathroom and throw up<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Something wrong?</div>
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I just sigh as I sit on the edge of the bed<b>.</b></div>
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He sits up next to me, pulling me into his arms as I leaned into him closing my eyes<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> What is it Hayley? Tell me what's wrong<b>.</b></div>
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Opening my eyes, I look up at him<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I<b>...</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Hmm?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>I'm pregnant<b>. </b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> That's whats upsetting you? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I know I should maybe feel better about this but<b>...</b>I don't know, I just got into law school and even if not for that I'm still really young<b>.</b> </div>
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I close my eyes again, a failed attempt to fight back the tears I know are flowing down my cheeks<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> And<b>... </b>and I can't stop wondering, what if<b>...</b>what if<b>...</b></div>
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My voice brakes, cutting me short<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> What if it's not mine?</div>
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I nod though tears, unable to speak<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> When you talked about going back to that old boyfriend, you said you did everything to change how you felt<b>.</b> You meant you slept with him? </div>
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Again I just nod and then pull myself out of his arms standing, and take a few steps away before looking back at him a moment<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I had assumed as much<b>.</b></div>
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Looking away again I hear him stand from the bed<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You think I care? It's as you said, you belong with me<b>.</b></div>
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His arms wrap around me again and again I lean into him<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Turner -</i></b> We belong together Hayley, nothing will change that<b>.</b> No matter what, I love you<b>.</b></div>
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I slides his arm down so that his hand is on my stomach<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Both of you<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I know that<b>.</b> And I know it's possible the father is Shawn, he's a good man, what really upsets me, when I found out I might be, counted back and what <i style="font-weight: bold;">really</i> has me upset more then anything is, he might not be the <i>only</i> other possibility<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> Adam<b>.</b></div>
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I can feel his body stiffen as he speaks releasing me and stepping away<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Tuner -</i> I'll kill 'em!<b> </b>I should have then<b>. </b>I wanted to<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> No<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I'd have thought you'd be glad to be rid of him<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I don't want anyone dying because of me, not even him<b>.</b> You've already punished him and he's not done anything new<b>.</b></div>
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This time I wrapped my arms around him<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Alright<b>.</b> Has I've already told him though,he even thinks of touching you again his dead<b>. </b>I won't let him hurt you<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I understand<b>.</b></div>
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I pull my arms around him tighter,resting my head against his shoulder<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i> I feel better about all of this now<b>. </b>I should be happy about this<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Mhmm<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I'll figure out about law school, I'm going to be a lawyer just like my dad<b>.</b> I'm gonna be a lawyer and... and a mother<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You'll be a good mother<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I know, I have you<b> </b>and I know you're going to be a great father<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Me, a father<b>.</b> I like the sound of that<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Yes, you're going to be a father, and I'm gonna be a mother,as well as a lawyer<b>.</b></div>
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I start to kiss his neck then whisper in his ear<b>. </b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Seems we've got alot to celebrate<b>.</b></div>
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He turns and smiles, raising an eyebrow<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Just sit back<b>.</b></div>
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I remove my headband as he sits, letting my hair fall around my shoulders<b>. </b>I shake my hair before beginning to slowly undress<b>. </b>Done I walk and remove his pants and boxers before climbing into his lap, caressing his face<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZf1LGFueprmACAajGmW4vGyzHMuOl4YrNw7Wb-ew-ctyLpCDF0iYBVWjCvJF1d605VZVk2agazERIH3KNpg5lf7nodjR91p826w5NpexpoIkVUNcqqtEUfL_vhio11smcfyjOGdHaW8/s1600/Screenshot-294.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTZf1LGFueprmACAajGmW4vGyzHMuOl4YrNw7Wb-ew-ctyLpCDF0iYBVWjCvJF1d605VZVk2agazERIH3KNpg5lf7nodjR91p826w5NpexpoIkVUNcqqtEUfL_vhio11smcfyjOGdHaW8/s640/Screenshot-294.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I run my hands down his shoulders and along his chest, and under his shirt<b>. </b>He raises his arms to slip the shirt over his head and take it and push him back<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsynrb8kJf5Dp6Jn0e-RKWpiJMgNkKIhGC2oH-xFBeu0TZyN32YMYXT79zcsqSiXgJ9r2VZK9I8kTc5mYmFJEBG3UnD86w2lO6rpiME1SZSXfeDjv1wn3iVEd2281Dfro38HyJ6xpXw0/s1600/Screenshot-293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirsynrb8kJf5Dp6Jn0e-RKWpiJMgNkKIhGC2oH-xFBeu0TZyN32YMYXT79zcsqSiXgJ9r2VZK9I8kTc5mYmFJEBG3UnD86w2lO6rpiME1SZSXfeDjv1wn3iVEd2281Dfro38HyJ6xpXw0/s640/Screenshot-293.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I hold myself over him<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> What do <i>you</i> want?</div>
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I quote his own past question back to him<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Nothing<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Nothing?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I have everything<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIw6xVm8Mcll6u3wiSBYVdw4aRWFZY3YK4bLZmkDb1_6dkxQw86ZJiO5P6dkMzw32ymqC5JXscKUtMhIiqiJd5KUx9txNTpXucoTijU1qrK3bqEfWmvrRy8IA4519_fgg9SCbtVaEOv_w/s1600/Screenshot-295.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIw6xVm8Mcll6u3wiSBYVdw4aRWFZY3YK4bLZmkDb1_6dkxQw86ZJiO5P6dkMzw32ymqC5JXscKUtMhIiqiJd5KUx9txNTpXucoTijU1qrK3bqEfWmvrRy8IA4519_fgg9SCbtVaEOv_w/s640/Screenshot-295.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I have you<b>.</b></div>
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Sitting up he pulls me as close as possible and begins to kiss me all over<b>. </b>He continue's to kiss me, exciting me till I can't take it<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Enough<b>. </b>I want you, now!<b> </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsp5MnW4EZjUfWiNcbSAMuZw8nWawgEZntgKfwmk_VufCJrrLBaGxpfEEIuHKI06NlrkbtHZ4qiqO-eUH5m_R4WHOYzGZxOhH8CufOVqnlCq6QgtufjuEto7l42U3Z7L5oBjp0cfew7w/s1600/Screenshot-296.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtsp5MnW4EZjUfWiNcbSAMuZw8nWawgEZntgKfwmk_VufCJrrLBaGxpfEEIuHKI06NlrkbtHZ4qiqO-eUH5m_R4WHOYzGZxOhH8CufOVqnlCq6QgtufjuEto7l42U3Z7L5oBjp0cfew7w/s640/Screenshot-296.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Just take me<b>.</b> Ravage me!</div>
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He does that, leaning me back and our bodies join as one<b>.</b> I wrap myself around him, gripping at his flesh and kiss his neck and shoulder<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Owh<b>. </b>Harder<b>.</b> Yes, Turner, yes<b>. </b>AH! Oh god<b>.</b> TURNER!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0Wy0lHWo2nvMRCgIk6P1DHd_0QcYzXgMWX12iVqgM624JwRQukSv_SD_84dFOmguWbmn_7N1suehVbqCaEWS6qVVMTYhnq3nOThdbNeiwjsf7FXH8mS3V0solqsNPNJXDzx_xXWv8HM/s1600/Screenshot-297.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT0Wy0lHWo2nvMRCgIk6P1DHd_0QcYzXgMWX12iVqgM624JwRQukSv_SD_84dFOmguWbmn_7N1suehVbqCaEWS6qVVMTYhnq3nOThdbNeiwjsf7FXH8mS3V0solqsNPNJXDzx_xXWv8HM/s640/Screenshot-297.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We lay together and I stare at him<b>. </b>He's perfect, I'm so lucky<b>. </b>I wish I'd realized sooner then I did how right we are<b>.</b><i> </i>This baby is going to be his<b>...</b> even if it's not<b>.</b></div>
</div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-14324003528699466822011-11-05T12:47:00.000-07:002011-11-09T10:59:41.636-08:00Chapter Eighteen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;">This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the <u><i>Very</i></u></b><i style="font-size: xx-large;"><u> </u></i><b style="font-size: xx-large;"><u><i>ADULT</i></u> subject matter remember that you where warned.</b><i style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;"> </i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;">ENJOY.</i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvsG7wn5nFXPfu0sJGMwqMbtKb9ckVB5sW_npiMqiLmY2a9i4x0yGzUmiJtzSmwFi5cwKH-99y_eDYzhnfWXyAA6pSp0qjujAr2KH4DZzZKnyOy7wjMFhVDQSLw05nokZ1wxCD-p5pJg/s1600/Screenshot-1164.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWvsG7wn5nFXPfu0sJGMwqMbtKb9ckVB5sW_npiMqiLmY2a9i4x0yGzUmiJtzSmwFi5cwKH-99y_eDYzhnfWXyAA6pSp0qjujAr2KH4DZzZKnyOy7wjMFhVDQSLw05nokZ1wxCD-p5pJg/s640/Screenshot-1164.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Oh Adam<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Shh<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Softly he kisses her again<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzX5QQtC5mA34x2glEwag6NLvpaPxafAki1Nb3mL4Q3Nlx4KBzYOcN5H4ECFNbEUQoQRNyOUhyphenhyphenRm2XQ4c9_ScQruJwK0ESrSG0FKaZypfZ7_sWqEFhXUwuzEf14gnRb0ecZKf9VEmXw8/s1600/Screenshot-1163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkzX5QQtC5mA34x2glEwag6NLvpaPxafAki1Nb3mL4Q3Nlx4KBzYOcN5H4ECFNbEUQoQRNyOUhyphenhyphenRm2XQ4c9_ScQruJwK0ESrSG0FKaZypfZ7_sWqEFhXUwuzEf14gnRb0ecZKf9VEmXw8/s640/Screenshot-1163.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The way he holds her<b>...</b> it looks so caring and gentle<b>. </b>Someone else, someone who doesn't know better may think it's just that, but I do know better<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBE68F_y26of0qcioLwKnkWY1PbN6cRlHOY7ydvxKvItAtNlCL3yLk4ZpGP_GLLTCDC5Njpm2Tr3aCiTL5PfqFuuGX-dfikgcCF-6r8-0mI-Te4Xop93A62D_iY6yYM9CQoDo0Fcechw/s1600/Screenshot-1233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwBE68F_y26of0qcioLwKnkWY1PbN6cRlHOY7ydvxKvItAtNlCL3yLk4ZpGP_GLLTCDC5Njpm2Tr3aCiTL5PfqFuuGX-dfikgcCF-6r8-0mI-Te4Xop93A62D_iY6yYM9CQoDo0Fcechw/s640/Screenshot-1233.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Still locked in a kiss, they turn so now it's his back to me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBFv35RfeLvCywnm6zexFvBFidAriRu-wOFYkiXQCCK6PG8G6cZEQYRRH3YZPp5SjBzTU0okvOYfaBPAQWunAOgRGGIcCjgKJjWxwM4LTFjoh0BV4HIJ83oKPtXxAU5x9R_kWCKbF0iM/s1600/Screenshot-1234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidBFv35RfeLvCywnm6zexFvBFidAriRu-wOFYkiXQCCK6PG8G6cZEQYRRH3YZPp5SjBzTU0okvOYfaBPAQWunAOgRGGIcCjgKJjWxwM4LTFjoh0BV4HIJ83oKPtXxAU5x9R_kWCKbF0iM/s640/Screenshot-1234.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> I haven't been kissed like that in so long<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I'd hope not my dear<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5t6nOSAe_BW-qlNfXq0jBQe2By9qUc8kDEz7AAt35iEMYbCx36sTRJEeyj7E7u1ZUSyLOiRMAf78E1QmDnrOn-qV82j0QjQdgcMb6ZO0Nq55EhPxJ5HQSGB3Oj7GHmONWkNxW9SC0h3w/s1600/Screenshot-1235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5t6nOSAe_BW-qlNfXq0jBQe2By9qUc8kDEz7AAt35iEMYbCx36sTRJEeyj7E7u1ZUSyLOiRMAf78E1QmDnrOn-qV82j0QjQdgcMb6ZO0Nq55EhPxJ5HQSGB3Oj7GHmONWkNxW9SC0h3w/s640/Screenshot-1235.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My dear? My dear? I don't understand why he's bothering with this charade<b>. </b>How does she not see through him? I had no trouble tricking her into following me here, but I still thought she was smarter than this<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> It's getting late, I should go<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stepping out of his arms she starts to walk towards the door, and towards me<b>. </b>SHIT!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Wait<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He grabs her, again his grip appears gentle<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> I'm a little tired I should head to bed<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingQhQVFTn8PMBmqgSCDYo-hU0k7hQW4dt0rbgpRLD_3UtIPSD_KXnKcCd0a2_kKB8EhRuIWAL_0kKdUbXT50M68eou2cvoBNEMNP-TroJKMVu379Z2DowNJ7sNafrzHckO7XN4So49fQ/s1600/Screenshot-1243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingQhQVFTn8PMBmqgSCDYo-hU0k7hQW4dt0rbgpRLD_3UtIPSD_KXnKcCd0a2_kKB8EhRuIWAL_0kKdUbXT50M68eou2cvoBNEMNP-TroJKMVu379Z2DowNJ7sNafrzHckO7XN4So49fQ/s640/Screenshot-1243.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He pulls her back into his arms<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Don't go<b>.</b> I have a couch in here<b>.</b> You can use my bed<b>. </b>Just, don't go<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Oh, he is good<b>.</b> If I didn't know better... but I do<b>.</b> He's playing her, he has to be, it's<span class="Apple-style-span" style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"> </span><i>Adam</i><b>.</b> But why? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYwvKn2VjPjuHKNasx5EK2VmPYU4Zh1tXMuDSoFZwUJkcJ6jVc6QpDmv6AM6QG51EaUYIiDAXMD46huALyYVLJZk_dOXdTA2_GvCBbaB79ruB2GHfIwzgbkqu5_SgjiA9IKakeejPOpE/s1600/Screenshot-1244.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGYwvKn2VjPjuHKNasx5EK2VmPYU4Zh1tXMuDSoFZwUJkcJ6jVc6QpDmv6AM6QG51EaUYIiDAXMD46huALyYVLJZk_dOXdTA2_GvCBbaB79ruB2GHfIwzgbkqu5_SgjiA9IKakeejPOpE/s640/Screenshot-1244.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> I don't know, you said you don't what the rest of them to know<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Adam -</b> I don't<b>.</b> It's better that way, safer, for both of us<b>. </b>But I don't want you to go either<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He leans in whispering something in her ear before kissing her cheek and I see a slight smile creep across her lips<b>.</b> She leans in putting her arms around him and resting her head on his chest<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Laura -</b> I know<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She knows? Knows what?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqfAlU_MdBTPXXPiXkyKbqW5FBTLh9vQz2MKgZDJ502mMlgpkppiKgQWFyJIsPjJhQDZDlDuU3d3LaV3ujblKO3ydu5yy1rzyujWkkHeEZxOTFlRgXJbwjR8JRHLoPc1YGX_ehHZwyZI/s1600/Screenshot-1245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbqfAlU_MdBTPXXPiXkyKbqW5FBTLh9vQz2MKgZDJ502mMlgpkppiKgQWFyJIsPjJhQDZDlDuU3d3LaV3ujblKO3ydu5yy1rzyujWkkHeEZxOTFlRgXJbwjR8JRHLoPc1YGX_ehHZwyZI/s640/Screenshot-1245.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He watches her lie down<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Sleep well<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6-RDuMUiiyxv1lLEnPq5NBKFgwifVKrrxJ-pjP6SnVOUhhECF5w759lgZofn1dXL0bRoVV-Gt-83RNNzsiEWVfW5BmdjdWYjbW3ldWbgcRUzv7HO73Z7eDCIbsoFSm6Q8dhqqOZ8Rm4/s1600/Screenshot-1246.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK6-RDuMUiiyxv1lLEnPq5NBKFgwifVKrrxJ-pjP6SnVOUhhECF5w759lgZofn1dXL0bRoVV-Gt-83RNNzsiEWVfW5BmdjdWYjbW3ldWbgcRUzv7HO73Z7eDCIbsoFSm6Q8dhqqOZ8Rm4/s640/Screenshot-1246.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I flicks off the lamp before laying down himself<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Clearly I'm not going to talk to her right now, so I head to bed myself<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxhBnS4Y0cSC8Z8_Mqs-LuvBqMsmaAvXVwert7JiNy-ifP2YIn0hOjcYXIi9dyeGTxXIRxq15JUlhIZMkRBZhC57PKimFHjuNwkDEWscNM7WCKpbofqoGScBMg0xnTeV1tZET8EusXrE/s1600/Screenshot-1247.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQxhBnS4Y0cSC8Z8_Mqs-LuvBqMsmaAvXVwert7JiNy-ifP2YIn0hOjcYXIi9dyeGTxXIRxq15JUlhIZMkRBZhC57PKimFHjuNwkDEWscNM7WCKpbofqoGScBMg0xnTeV1tZET8EusXrE/s640/Screenshot-1247.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I climb into bed<b>.</b> The dog who I've just been calling Fluffy Puppy jumps up on Turner's side of the bed<b>.</b> Half asleep I talk to him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Hey there boy<b>. </b>You're gonna have to get down soon<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPEA6g5SjaacoVsKJdONYsBvx9dJGvGTQk2V1fEw0ytznQ6Z356n4zcMOIOcmM6YIG2A3RVkaD-WGfgPeEaP9r8BfPsOpkwNEpssGdFHwXPKNUMPfgz9YE3mAH_9ziB1IOEB-zpZAbA5c/s1600/Screenshot-1248.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPEA6g5SjaacoVsKJdONYsBvx9dJGvGTQk2V1fEw0ytznQ6Z356n4zcMOIOcmM6YIG2A3RVkaD-WGfgPeEaP9r8BfPsOpkwNEpssGdFHwXPKNUMPfgz9YE3mAH_9ziB1IOEB-zpZAbA5c/s640/Screenshot-1248.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCUMZ9RcpRsxcF-USfkZpcOAUeDA1yMBmSEG60jbf0WzX23iUuLkXYdL5WnIVdDOAOIbYYhCMj9LYurfTq6DeqSgjo8ir7pyyAFv7WwaZ8qosV1lbjYPIqA1M5SYSXdXFATXKuUn016Ic/s1600/Screenshot-1251.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCUMZ9RcpRsxcF-USfkZpcOAUeDA1yMBmSEG60jbf0WzX23iUuLkXYdL5WnIVdDOAOIbYYhCMj9LYurfTq6DeqSgjo8ir7pyyAFv7WwaZ8qosV1lbjYPIqA1M5SYSXdXFATXKuUn016Ic/s640/Screenshot-1251.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Fluffy Puppy settles on the floor next to me as I curl up to Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3p51slV9zLZepPFK7GNIiVZy5VQvqYRbOu6ZpTeLVJFllpfC17kN5_SYF2cqeTMhQHCUU4GrjJNJGqxM6GBHDNEkIRQk4XKgrA7o5ia7x_ZNC2LBndvfSvdLmYrz6B3C20v7s6JVB3s/s1600/Screenshot-1253.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT3p51slV9zLZepPFK7GNIiVZy5VQvqYRbOu6ZpTeLVJFllpfC17kN5_SYF2cqeTMhQHCUU4GrjJNJGqxM6GBHDNEkIRQk4XKgrA7o5ia7x_ZNC2LBndvfSvdLmYrz6B3C20v7s6JVB3s/s640/Screenshot-1253.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Turner props him self up on one elbow as I smooth the bedspread<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Going somewhere?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Just to take a morning shower<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I smile at him and raise an eyebrow<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Join me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w1hyghfqcr6oIQP5l0hlJBsIVsxk1qWFCplIK6QCTGsZizZerS8F_jPRtTB_9BY3b9x1dAEi6hSOPinr7wuJjn_DCqcvDiepN5jTolmAUl7XWBgl89ObLs-jz0eh8Na2KekqbOLIs2w/s1600/Screenshot-697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w1hyghfqcr6oIQP5l0hlJBsIVsxk1qWFCplIK6QCTGsZizZerS8F_jPRtTB_9BY3b9x1dAEi6hSOPinr7wuJjn_DCqcvDiepN5jTolmAUl7XWBgl89ObLs-jz0eh8Na2KekqbOLIs2w/s640/Screenshot-697.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Removing my cami and bottoms, I discard them in the hamper before heading towards the bathroom<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You coming?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtG29LsCvUic2MbNG4HIhsc97u1aM5QUDa73ZicyqNpRbyqLvNnW0AnLsPiKUyy-aC0hhRfLB5qZ3iPAFQliipRtlJD-8UthG6QVihkZZRNER12X3sKihLUMMlIn8hkEhUBp4RjGG0l0c/s1600/Screenshot-1256.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtG29LsCvUic2MbNG4HIhsc97u1aM5QUDa73ZicyqNpRbyqLvNnW0AnLsPiKUyy-aC0hhRfLB5qZ3iPAFQliipRtlJD-8UthG6QVihkZZRNER12X3sKihLUMMlIn8hkEhUBp4RjGG0l0c/s640/Screenshot-1256.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We press close against one another the water and steam rolling over us and share a passionate kiss<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfx-AuI4Q87UOXUPDW8JsmLk9i3wEM3o-suSNY_1ieJ-O664rKMNrbxMXNh_7qaWCGUqkAA6sEdOwhYG-SWeVYSKxo6RaEJFdl1-F0JzWEYOEQvjtIawuFfsEf2z9SpyWaGje_DwwDi0Q/s1600/Screenshot-1257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfx-AuI4Q87UOXUPDW8JsmLk9i3wEM3o-suSNY_1ieJ-O664rKMNrbxMXNh_7qaWCGUqkAA6sEdOwhYG-SWeVYSKxo6RaEJFdl1-F0JzWEYOEQvjtIawuFfsEf2z9SpyWaGje_DwwDi0Q/s640/Screenshot-1257.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">His lips leave mine and go to my neck<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE33UIcjNgBp6lV7Huto7kWaTYARhmc_gRqSiAeQHTt2iC4XBBJQ_YsqALb9qma5uiFiXH0K56nKX5iTcT5YMPa5-lGtvFVGxiQI-gm1O_KaLYV5gjNRYHkBMxTVoKOAlJggjzLoBfJk4/s1600/Screenshot-1259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhE33UIcjNgBp6lV7Huto7kWaTYARhmc_gRqSiAeQHTt2iC4XBBJQ_YsqALb9qma5uiFiXH0K56nKX5iTcT5YMPa5-lGtvFVGxiQI-gm1O_KaLYV5gjNRYHkBMxTVoKOAlJggjzLoBfJk4/s640/Screenshot-1259.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He moves his hands down my back to my hips and along my legs<b>.</b> His voice is low and his breath hot on my skin as he murmurers my name <b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Hayley<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW0mTZ6pLh2p30HkDVQuOA24cVGJ328M1VUtQSVLguzR3sWRNC_c_8US5379Do_RvJhNPLj7Uh9eEANupWCImd_-JEDq-Yz_FLA_7N1MTF3bUutt4UaiY3R0f9EdKBt0b0bavKHjWqhQ/s1600/Screenshot-1260.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyW0mTZ6pLh2p30HkDVQuOA24cVGJ328M1VUtQSVLguzR3sWRNC_c_8US5379Do_RvJhNPLj7Uh9eEANupWCImd_-JEDq-Yz_FLA_7N1MTF3bUutt4UaiY3R0f9EdKBt0b0bavKHjWqhQ/s640/Screenshot-1260.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We both slip down onto our knees<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I love you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I cup his face and bring his lips to meet mine<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXHtm7D6MOYlpr5BKNPGxZOpBNuURnpdlv0wr9hmE0jGBAWFds66hsifap0y5vheDrixIrtUCclFd4PHiWJDFg-LG6AJMc_RKb_Ahg-B5T1YwbE4RcXhn2e9MtdiYhFHEyB5zkhsSpG8/s1600/Screenshot-1265.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyXHtm7D6MOYlpr5BKNPGxZOpBNuURnpdlv0wr9hmE0jGBAWFds66hsifap0y5vheDrixIrtUCclFd4PHiWJDFg-LG6AJMc_RKb_Ahg-B5T1YwbE4RcXhn2e9MtdiYhFHEyB5zkhsSpG8/s640/Screenshot-1265.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He pushes me back against the floor and stares into my eyes through the water and the steam surrounding us<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> What do you want Hayley?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You Turner, I want you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Returning to his knees he reaches up to turn off the water before putting his hand out for me and bring us both to our feet<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM3MjokH55vbIMeFnhZrrmSuB5zt3PtisjE9et4EMzegBUIayFGits7hkWsi83jmDE6HcftnY6Bf3YXSlPMCIDk2EbgYa2ThRCajacK7v-4pmpDwQhPCzYLIwFnWkZYC-4dNPQeLhGtw/s1600/Screenshot-1266.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaM3MjokH55vbIMeFnhZrrmSuB5zt3PtisjE9et4EMzegBUIayFGits7hkWsi83jmDE6HcftnY6Bf3YXSlPMCIDk2EbgYa2ThRCajacK7v-4pmpDwQhPCzYLIwFnWkZYC-4dNPQeLhGtw/s640/Screenshot-1266.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He allows me to gently push him down to the bed and lay myself next to him<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEtTvHZcKdcx3CBtrkBb4RwtS-XnFDgpBVGyN2dAsxL0mkud8YUHQWbAMMIBRPX-7HVGIVYn6W0er4qekGaPYd84An0nIQd666MD98DRd7B5QN1HLuroWpXw68wUuAH3fz3kij20CJHvc/s1600/Screenshot-1217.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEtTvHZcKdcx3CBtrkBb4RwtS-XnFDgpBVGyN2dAsxL0mkud8YUHQWbAMMIBRPX-7HVGIVYn6W0er4qekGaPYd84An0nIQd666MD98DRd7B5QN1HLuroWpXw68wUuAH3fz3kij20CJHvc/s640/Screenshot-1217.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Climbing on top of him I again put a hand to his face pressing my head to his<b>.</b> My voice is soft and low, a breathy whisper thick with love and desire<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I love you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I love you too<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I want you<b>.</b> I <i>need</i> you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqV-x41QYvY9oc3nUsyiBeaw3oxFQL6F6t7asRMx5oduvhhwUVDJ00n6WEESFozB74_OiMC9IHbKJbuFpJSWs28gD_UN8jZpzKoC5J2KxKarKG5hzwfII97s73DYK7I1VYJqaqFGaEpWw/s1600/Screenshot-1218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqV-x41QYvY9oc3nUsyiBeaw3oxFQL6F6t7asRMx5oduvhhwUVDJ00n6WEESFozB74_OiMC9IHbKJbuFpJSWs28gD_UN8jZpzKoC5J2KxKarKG5hzwfII97s73DYK7I1VYJqaqFGaEpWw/s640/Screenshot-1218.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Make love to me Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUSVcDp1YhH3A57uLe8n4ge2G1_s5Yupt5yLfVnh8TNZlD8pNzML5ro63lIxZZl_6ztISwUumjknClnv629F5TCNx5EYQzgFnkZYBEhxrqkoLL29Qkyxo5htRJp4ar9hQ1kjJjpR0J3g/s1600/Screenshot-1267.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUSVcDp1YhH3A57uLe8n4ge2G1_s5Yupt5yLfVnh8TNZlD8pNzML5ro63lIxZZl_6ztISwUumjknClnv629F5TCNx5EYQzgFnkZYBEhxrqkoLL29Qkyxo5htRJp4ar9hQ1kjJjpR0J3g/s640/Screenshot-1267.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He flips me to my back, a hand holding one of my legs as I wrap them around him while his other hand rest firm yet gentle upon my breast<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8S_T3yb1vBX2hkqEuNnZzIsD_lT4G32oMjy1MtiQZ79YyViDXgMfxtdwzo6jpH162GdjO5xSQ6zP-QxZcItImDwfL2VQ9Rw4bAsY2NxKDEhpecI8ipBlPmui79imrSe4nTk5Z4gU98mo/s1600/Screenshot-1215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8S_T3yb1vBX2hkqEuNnZzIsD_lT4G32oMjy1MtiQZ79YyViDXgMfxtdwzo6jpH162GdjO5xSQ6zP-QxZcItImDwfL2VQ9Rw4bAsY2NxKDEhpecI8ipBlPmui79imrSe4nTk5Z4gU98mo/s640/Screenshot-1215.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Within moments he has me gasping and moaning<b>.</b> I bite my finger suppressing a scream, then wrap my legs tighter around him, gripping him with my hands and digging my nails into his flesh<b>.</b> I cling to him lost in our passion, needing something to hold on to as the world slips away and there is only him and me, us<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Hayley<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I never thought it could be like this<b>.</b> Never before have I felt as I do with you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Breathlessly, practically panting between statements I reply<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes! Feels so good<b>.</b> So right<b>.</b> Don't stop, don't ever stop<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">There is a difference between having sex and making love, I have slept with Turner before and yet we have never before made love to one another<b>.</b> Together our bodies move as one, no longer bound by the confides of the flesh I give him my heart and soul as well as body, we are one<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrg6IIeS-LkE7aMH3Hl9YeqHLv7ga4fKJr1OJW1lHI9ZihrbLnafVCSE50VD7bgyl9ZAZMiAx2chJMAUH1hMPyJEfxWIZUROhpvLEal4aWVEfIy0BZyduNyUIOXE9YijMOC0so2WoYaU4/s1600/Screenshot-1273.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrg6IIeS-LkE7aMH3Hl9YeqHLv7ga4fKJr1OJW1lHI9ZihrbLnafVCSE50VD7bgyl9ZAZMiAx2chJMAUH1hMPyJEfxWIZUROhpvLEal4aWVEfIy0BZyduNyUIOXE9YijMOC0so2WoYaU4/s640/Screenshot-1273.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A little while later after finally reaching a point that we lack the energy to continue we lay together and he holds me in his arms<b>.</b> Neither of us speak, there's no need for words<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv76w9f-7jV9yk7Gwnc4-zApWTONo-C8_34Ppb9D42emkeDH8p1MYuil-rGKRiOCYE4RxLtj_EOt8jVXka0b3EmqnQ6O0699JQv9zCsyQEe4hgnLY3L9NrNmuulMN4xSYPBZp_Rw3kI4/s1600/Screenshot-1284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcv76w9f-7jV9yk7Gwnc4-zApWTONo-C8_34Ppb9D42emkeDH8p1MYuil-rGKRiOCYE4RxLtj_EOt8jVXka0b3EmqnQ6O0699JQv9zCsyQEe4hgnLY3L9NrNmuulMN4xSYPBZp_Rw3kI4/s640/Screenshot-1284.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Eventually upon heading to use the bathroom I find myself dropping down in front of the toilet, throwing up<b>.</b> I haven't had any random tiredness since last night, but wonder if it's connected and again what's wrong with me<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhia4NBwSwciXiH94HnCSP8PoJygayAwOaz_mX3Bp8Wrch2ZYJSNI9ahl5Tl3GTnZGZAhyphenhyphensnwuzwhybBu-JH-hRlqds4abaFzyc2IcZQpvGxEIfXPDHZAm_8qa-r0BF2LfxGCKyGD8SOdQ/s1600/Screenshot-1286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhia4NBwSwciXiH94HnCSP8PoJygayAwOaz_mX3Bp8Wrch2ZYJSNI9ahl5Tl3GTnZGZAhyphenhyphensnwuzwhybBu-JH-hRlqds4abaFzyc2IcZQpvGxEIfXPDHZAm_8qa-r0BF2LfxGCKyGD8SOdQ/s640/Screenshot-1286.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As I start to stand Turner grabs my arm and waist helping me up<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner - </b>Hayley?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIG5nnYxDd8WY-_mBtV6Ny7HVvEn_j7Pk0WQtaqYbKU9EaMQRXmhdK0Sil1n_GTh8wKjNGiLHzfgmoK-F1xuyg0l_zLPI6IePTuFb_V6vcLM-l_6VizhZOq60RxOyovCK1Dbv-bwmO70/s1600/Screenshot-1291.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIG5nnYxDd8WY-_mBtV6Ny7HVvEn_j7Pk0WQtaqYbKU9EaMQRXmhdK0Sil1n_GTh8wKjNGiLHzfgmoK-F1xuyg0l_zLPI6IePTuFb_V6vcLM-l_6VizhZOq60RxOyovCK1Dbv-bwmO70/s640/Screenshot-1291.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He places his hands on my shoulders and after a moment begins to rub them<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mmm, that feels nice<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Are you alright my sweet? Are you sick?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtM7dF9vkkK_lo3rT2brpJzLf6ytFiMCOd4QsBvTYaSrBB266JkN50EO02ZtQQ36C3up_nC0vpxcHAQKz8sdo4f5wBCxmduavZQYBW_6a3q3ooBKXSEm_elBhY6tbbNro8hVOBMkNnPiI/s1600/Screenshot-1292.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtM7dF9vkkK_lo3rT2brpJzLf6ytFiMCOd4QsBvTYaSrBB266JkN50EO02ZtQQ36C3up_nC0vpxcHAQKz8sdo4f5wBCxmduavZQYBW_6a3q3ooBKXSEm_elBhY6tbbNro8hVOBMkNnPiI/s640/Screenshot-1292.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Stretching my back and rolling back my shoulders, I sight before responding<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I don't know<b>.</b> I'm going to talk to Laura when I get the chance<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHxkj6ZoMw7ve57FcNAsbstA6yB8gi7fYfdppDWEC759crRrQW9GfM9obEV34Y3OCeP4BCQqOGqVHTvEIeazjKMr_v-itWud-Xj-rpD7AvWwbbbJevkZ-xuqozR_YNe3oi5Kqn_TrC5w/s1600/Screenshot-1293.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkHxkj6ZoMw7ve57FcNAsbstA6yB8gi7fYfdppDWEC759crRrQW9GfM9obEV34Y3OCeP4BCQqOGqVHTvEIeazjKMr_v-itWud-Xj-rpD7AvWwbbbJevkZ-xuqozR_YNe3oi5Kqn_TrC5w/s640/Screenshot-1293.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Why talk to her? She's just...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He stops short<b>. </b>I flash a smug smirk raising an eyebrow inquisitively<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He looks away clearing his throat and I burst into giggles<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You can say it<b>.</b> She's the slave<b>.</b> I don't mind, I'm the one who picked her to replace me<b>.</b> As for why I would talk to her about this, she told me before I brought her here that she used to be a nurse<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> Leaving the bathroom I glace at the clock and am surprised to still find it morning<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Well I don't know what kind of cook she is but I love to cook and told her I will continue to do so<b>.</b> On that note I best be off to make breakfast<b>.</b> You must be starting after this mornings activities<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Indeed, and you? I gave you quite the work out as well<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Famished<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He just stares at me a slight smile on his lips and love in his eye<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I love you<b>.</b> You are just perfect, you know that? Beautiful, young, intelligent, amazing in the kitchen and even better in bed<b>.</b> Sweet and caring yet also devious<b>. </b>How did I get so lucky?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You don't want me to answer that<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAJnd80BwkiV8TjXxaBWDSRi5nN9zQdWOXURuCq9HqG8iNgva-VByvd5dfzPsqEx0EHtXpNpsp2Q5fUKsxaoxwSgU_RY8rWnyt0IsclpqJvwBs-3sHifX7VSrEHTOTpqoOGe2q-grOt0/s1600/Screenshot-1303.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcAJnd80BwkiV8TjXxaBWDSRi5nN9zQdWOXURuCq9HqG8iNgva-VByvd5dfzPsqEx0EHtXpNpsp2Q5fUKsxaoxwSgU_RY8rWnyt0IsclpqJvwBs-3sHifX7VSrEHTOTpqoOGe2q-grOt0/s640/Screenshot-1303.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Laura does the laundry while I make breakfast<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Good<b>.</b> I need to speak with you and am glad it is alone<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> A-about what?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She seems nervous<b>.</b> Does she suspect, perhaps even know I saw her with Adam? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Not that<b>.</b> This is about me not you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I'm teasing, testing<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Not what? I, I don't know what you're talking about<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Then why do you seem so nervous?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Well lets see, you tricked me into following you to this, this <i>place</i> and keep me here making me clean for you ,wearing this horrid maids outfit that looks like something out of Playboy<b>.</b> The real question is why <b>wouldn't</b><i> </i>I be nervous around you<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuABIlD3kmf4soW72GDH0yVQgBC9vrTWNhdsB0jgamdTwOW2WtulnbVo9yX3tPE-NeVB4ZMtECHVg8PwiSMlUqHW9s3uj2zMPohkDWLTsjt1avHkzgGDJpyni8F8qVHx5fTgtihJp8Zwg/s1600/Screenshot-1307.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuABIlD3kmf4soW72GDH0yVQgBC9vrTWNhdsB0jgamdTwOW2WtulnbVo9yX3tPE-NeVB4ZMtECHVg8PwiSMlUqHW9s3uj2zMPohkDWLTsjt1avHkzgGDJpyni8F8qVHx5fTgtihJp8Zwg/s640/Screenshot-1307.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I laugh<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> You're not very nice<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> My mother left when I was a baby<b>.</b> My father died when I was a child<b>.</b> My step-mother didn't love me and my step father, the man she remarried, hated me<b>.</b> I was as you are now, the slave, imprisoned and abused for six years<b>.</b> Now to mention growing up a rich beautiful blonde<b>. </b>Of course I'm not <i>nice</i><b>.</b> I have issues but thats besides the point, thats not what I wanted to talk to you about<b>. </b>You said you used to be a nurse and I haven't been feeling well as of late<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Laura -</b> What's wrong?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You tell me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kjrS2fc3GYDz7VMw7Zi2c0jXEJJO1SoKEkwnnVhYFhDVNfUchh3EbkIGUfm4Dy8ZWHzLOjStMeC50my8FEbgipjjv1JsEKXIgBt-ksrcgAQ3CIVrMsKW7mpfWmzy9lfc1d4dDt3Phs8/s1600/Screenshot-1309.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9kjrS2fc3GYDz7VMw7Zi2c0jXEJJO1SoKEkwnnVhYFhDVNfUchh3EbkIGUfm4Dy8ZWHzLOjStMeC50my8FEbgipjjv1JsEKXIgBt-ksrcgAQ3CIVrMsKW7mpfWmzy9lfc1d4dDt3Phs8/s640/Screenshot-1309.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Well what do you mean by not feeling well? What symptoms have you been experiencing? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Sleepiness, lightheadedness, fainting, and I also threw up<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Well considering you <i>"</i><i>issues" </i>I'd say it just sounds like stress<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> But I'm not under stress anymore, for the first time my life is pretty much perfect<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> That doesn't mean anything, stress isn't always caused by things being bad or hard<b>.</b> The <i>lack</i> of that hectic pressure can still cause your mind and body a great deal of stress because its not what your used to<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Hmm<b>.</b> Anything else? Other then stress?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Laura -</i> Either that or you're pregnant<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-70770036297847650142011-11-02T13:59:00.000-07:002011-11-04T15:21:51.352-07:00Chapter Seventeen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLImEqcs2BUN12OBOZl_hvvL_wvNWBGkUwfZz3AyzKBG8g1SMiEy4QDzmH7qnfPyjAXUoi6IBONLDyHaLOj2YJDHkmzRU8YBWAWJ1KS0Tm9-JUqTvhmjLUwrNUheFxYoq2fmRPAZDG07g/s1600/Screenshot-1157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLImEqcs2BUN12OBOZl_hvvL_wvNWBGkUwfZz3AyzKBG8g1SMiEy4QDzmH7qnfPyjAXUoi6IBONLDyHaLOj2YJDHkmzRU8YBWAWJ1KS0Tm9-JUqTvhmjLUwrNUheFxYoq2fmRPAZDG07g/s640/Screenshot-1157.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Though it's the third night he's stood there watching me, something tells me he won't do so again<b>.</b> He turns to leave, I know it's now or never<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Don't go<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He looks over his shoulder<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b>Turner -</b> </i>You're awake?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I nod even though I'm not sure if he can see me<b> </b>and repeat myself<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Don't go<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2EC_Dy1pZnhtfZEkMIPcGWDES0opiGWNm_4VsirDBtx6hOkRphlSoAhZrITNJwTgPwXVCV1YSEiSDNP2iKU6iJdAp_CxVqdeNwx0yrr17HlAW_vYfAtHG1dirmzzgHWKWsYFOSY5zdEE/s1600/Screenshot-1156.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2EC_Dy1pZnhtfZEkMIPcGWDES0opiGWNm_4VsirDBtx6hOkRphlSoAhZrITNJwTgPwXVCV1YSEiSDNP2iKU6iJdAp_CxVqdeNwx0yrr17HlAW_vYfAtHG1dirmzzgHWKWsYFOSY5zdEE/s640/Screenshot-1156.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I cross the room wrapping my arms around him from behind<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Please<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b> </b>I <i>do</i> care,<b> </b>if I didn't I would just let him walk away<b>. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Hayley<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I can hear the pain in his voice as he moves out of my arms and steps though the doorway before turning to face me<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Why did you come back? What are you doing here?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">As he speaks he moves farther into the room and I follow<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Isn't it obvious?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You should leave<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Haven't we had this conversation before? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b><i>Turner -</i> </b>Why did you come back?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbmWAHl77-SfIMC7GSK4GxvjpUiiT_RGYEG1sYEnyLT28ELG5C9yG-6koiFYNC7RfOqucqxhKYSkf5zFwCg__hnSRPJk0ES5MBkJHHuf7V5al1-uMLdFjY_ZnI7mk0TqsTWsKrSDCpOk/s1600/Screenshot-1212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbbmWAHl77-SfIMC7GSK4GxvjpUiiT_RGYEG1sYEnyLT28ELG5C9yG-6koiFYNC7RfOqucqxhKYSkf5zFwCg__hnSRPJk0ES5MBkJHHuf7V5al1-uMLdFjY_ZnI7mk0TqsTWsKrSDCpOk/s640/Screenshot-1212.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Because I felt guilty<b>.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>Because I'm not my mother<b>.</b> I've always hated her, not for leaving <i>me</i>, but for how she hurt my father<b>.</b> I couldn't bare the thought that I had done the same to you<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You came back out of <i>guilt</i>? </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> My stepmother is the one who made me see the parallel<b>.</b> She asked me if I thought my mother ever felt guilty<b>. </b>I said no, because she didn't care<b>.</b> But <b>I</b> <i>do</i> feel guilty</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner - </b>So you've said<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Don't you get it? I said that I don't think my mother ever felt guilty about leaving us<b style="font-style: italic;"> </b>BECAUSE <b style="font-style: italic;">SHE </b>DIDN'T CARE! I do feel guilty because I do care<b>.</b> I care about you<b>.</b> After I left, I went back to my past boyfriend, we had never broken up<b>.</b> But I just didn't feel the same as I used to, and I did everything to try to fix that, everything, but nothing changed the fact I didn't belong with him anymore<b>. </b>If I <i>ever</i> belonged with him I don't anymore because I belong with <b><i>you</i>. </b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I start to cover my mouth realizing what I've just said but then stop my self as I realize the truth of it<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I belong with you Turner<b>.</b> I see that now<b>.</b> I know it's late but please, please tell me its not<i> too</i> late<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-q3xOq2ZQItP62sp34-mRiCs-K6PZ6vT0KvC4_0isxS6L5dJgi8oA9YKQRUWe4kGlUp81L4L9CKA9l4u6U4qGNjrcroQA5lVt44DhlfnVJlfErTHDqA9N4mOL309qBehtkhQD932xGI/s1600/Screenshot-1177.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW-q3xOq2ZQItP62sp34-mRiCs-K6PZ6vT0KvC4_0isxS6L5dJgi8oA9YKQRUWe4kGlUp81L4L9CKA9l4u6U4qGNjrcroQA5lVt44DhlfnVJlfErTHDqA9N4mOL309qBehtkhQD932xGI/s640/Screenshot-1177.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">He'd had his back to me but upon my saying I belong with him he looked back at me and as I finished walked over to me<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You think you belong with me?</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i><b> </b>I know I do<b>.</b> I'm sorry I hurt you<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> It's not as though I have not done wrong by you as well<b>.</b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I don't want to think of that, it no longer matters<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Yes, let the past, just be the past<b>.</b> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ugQAdEf6b6fXYegdOeg0WCvKL1d4Sk5kbadISxTbB7AUY5XUAP_A-iuLDE20qgQDqVD73FTqPHkQFY7rfi6lFCIwINfP2zBStHuk1e5GpCg7xilPIYfxen6JoVSBioqbzE0Yjpkhj4w/s1600/Screenshot-1182.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4ugQAdEf6b6fXYegdOeg0WCvKL1d4Sk5kbadISxTbB7AUY5XUAP_A-iuLDE20qgQDqVD73FTqPHkQFY7rfi6lFCIwINfP2zBStHuk1e5GpCg7xilPIYfxen6JoVSBioqbzE0Yjpkhj4w/s640/Screenshot-1182.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He kisses me sweetly and softly, gently holding me against him, his strong hard body a stark contrast to his soft lips<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-IvDPbk25O3CpySsPQVPs425_EUcwy57x6JUMr5mRWLEXt5DjCfqsXX3k5R8SeZO17ORN7JTuAuCWvoBHeQLa0sBbLQBr3BDLgSPRu4mZMpLePj4mwJXZFWP2RQTtg8cjZtPjUIghPE/s1600/Screenshot-1180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq-IvDPbk25O3CpySsPQVPs425_EUcwy57x6JUMr5mRWLEXt5DjCfqsXX3k5R8SeZO17ORN7JTuAuCWvoBHeQLa0sBbLQBr3BDLgSPRu4mZMpLePj4mwJXZFWP2RQTtg8cjZtPjUIghPE/s640/Screenshot-1180.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He holds me for a moment just looking at me before releasing me and stepping back<b>.</b><b> </b>I blink slowly staggering back <b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Something wrong?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me -</i> </b>No, just pretty tired all of a sudden<b>.</b> I mean I was a little tried before but<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5J4fNHazIhtjnkDN8v4bO9QPdPZzof0WPQZVv_OzqRkuZr-145io7jsy4nMtZL_mwEArNF_XkRKK-RUuS-SUWrDmE_wt-ge324JYeZzBEKntFawdB_3A1sSg0YQ3ycJP_r9WSar6edJs/s1600/Screenshot-1207.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5J4fNHazIhtjnkDN8v4bO9QPdPZzof0WPQZVv_OzqRkuZr-145io7jsy4nMtZL_mwEArNF_XkRKK-RUuS-SUWrDmE_wt-ge324JYeZzBEKntFawdB_3A1sSg0YQ3ycJP_r9WSar6edJs/s640/Screenshot-1207.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It happens practically in an instant but seems longer<b>.</b> I stop short feeling my legs give out from under me<b>.</b></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFhlhYQx1a25eS-s4m8g_FIVYtHJ5NcitoLNryM4avVyDh5TuVv5o73MfWZ_WIQR-oMzT7H9VPGcHbEb_RHr1sKf1plR6vXddNG-deTsP_uOxOtNP7GFMCe4NzVg-iPJMlmvpI9Y7owE/s1600/Screenshot-1208.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuFhlhYQx1a25eS-s4m8g_FIVYtHJ5NcitoLNryM4avVyDh5TuVv5o73MfWZ_WIQR-oMzT7H9VPGcHbEb_RHr1sKf1plR6vXddNG-deTsP_uOxOtNP7GFMCe4NzVg-iPJMlmvpI9Y7owE/s640/Screenshot-1208.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Turner grabs for me and my arms instinctively wrap around his neck, catching me in my fall<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgDTjwKRrKyRLtvHBQMJLne_XXbR15XeagPN2j97E2eKneq6HE7mieUoH4zFf5HJ1gOuWcbl_5-32V1OSv52Pj7BmXaD73cnOsPfQaL9Wp_J1WFEtHxQKG8h7GjNLZsg8L_J1ecUV2pI/s1600/Screenshot-1209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivgDTjwKRrKyRLtvHBQMJLne_XXbR15XeagPN2j97E2eKneq6HE7mieUoH4zFf5HJ1gOuWcbl_5-32V1OSv52Pj7BmXaD73cnOsPfQaL9Wp_J1WFEtHxQKG8h7GjNLZsg8L_J1ecUV2pI/s640/Screenshot-1209.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Are you okay?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">His voice is full of concern<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpwk6L5Jw6SiAz7dpF_imWX9BbIb5KrNMYNAagPpqzfl3nkavjy6oz_UAGF5_F8OZyXlD-xqAFnzLauz-XEnGqd7a7SU1thLQomdzVzcgH4F6pHFisuAeiuwns1sh80M_LQ9A-bnX-7c/s1600/Screenshot-1210.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTpwk6L5Jw6SiAz7dpF_imWX9BbIb5KrNMYNAagPpqzfl3nkavjy6oz_UAGF5_F8OZyXlD-xqAFnzLauz-XEnGqd7a7SU1thLQomdzVzcgH4F6pHFisuAeiuwns1sh80M_LQ9A-bnX-7c/s640/Screenshot-1210.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Nearly completely out of it, I let out a slight groan and he picks me up<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1lKvsmSH3qMMQLTd1MbC8beDj9eiBx49K_wdx17dKWQHJfQZQqqcao4zwMEz0EDyVhgDwIcznKla9co9zVA4ftbjpqp5vVHxNnX_vM6WTxv6ISztJMgjr1n4TzRZDv6IBSd353GBk-I/s1600/Screenshot-1192.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc1lKvsmSH3qMMQLTd1MbC8beDj9eiBx49K_wdx17dKWQHJfQZQqqcao4zwMEz0EDyVhgDwIcznKla9co9zVA4ftbjpqp5vVHxNnX_vM6WTxv6ISztJMgjr1n4TzRZDv6IBSd353GBk-I/s640/Screenshot-1192.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then the world goes black<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhduoKvqw8_gEZY5p-Z83zwkYtavMnW_KR5b-y3LJ1hx9j8E_bnnjyrwXqmaF-_Y5xLxVO2MhQsboPVhPYp6_GWAeMpUri-FFO8Hnw8mtedXEGuCA-lucHOGVNsTmJWyRI4S5HrhCKvidE/s1600/Screenshot-1185.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhduoKvqw8_gEZY5p-Z83zwkYtavMnW_KR5b-y3LJ1hx9j8E_bnnjyrwXqmaF-_Y5xLxVO2MhQsboPVhPYp6_GWAeMpUri-FFO8Hnw8mtedXEGuCA-lucHOGVNsTmJWyRI4S5HrhCKvidE/s640/Screenshot-1185.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Its a while later I open my eyes,dazed, and find myself in bed, Turner now sleeping by my side<b>.</b> I scoot close next to him putting an arm around him and close my eyes again<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghISl_H66GOrM7yh1ORHTqoN8KrqqMPcCm6i3ruN2xerYzIHSsd_Qw50nZJQmHG4m_0vkRAbOoG0zUCCyAI4wFxNRstzcaHEkCIwA0LVy1Y4lyCJJcErKsRyHq8-jhBUDJJ-nwO7usdF4/s1600/Screenshot-1162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghISl_H66GOrM7yh1ORHTqoN8KrqqMPcCm6i3ruN2xerYzIHSsd_Qw50nZJQmHG4m_0vkRAbOoG0zUCCyAI4wFxNRstzcaHEkCIwA0LVy1Y4lyCJJcErKsRyHq8-jhBUDJJ-nwO7usdF4/s640/Screenshot-1162.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDQOEb7ytV1TY3me2YbbWRko-4tUjwtYXhzGjbjcz_TJApYiF_Cm_wQmoK6apWNXUzpFvAsbjRJ-JCfynNBkz2CUhPuBR4nT0FYIe8_qOE8oNMTQx44HXX9Dxym0W-XGxWorlO9Vsky4/s1600/Screenshot-1151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoDQOEb7ytV1TY3me2YbbWRko-4tUjwtYXhzGjbjcz_TJApYiF_Cm_wQmoK6apWNXUzpFvAsbjRJ-JCfynNBkz2CUhPuBR4nT0FYIe8_qOE8oNMTQx44HXX9Dxym0W-XGxWorlO9Vsky4/s640/Screenshot-1151.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The next morning after dressing I make myself breakfast and sit down to eat<b>.</b> I've informed Laura that I will continue to do the cooking and that she is mostly here to clean<b>.</b> I like to cook and don't know how good a cook she is, but am willing to bet I'm better<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV29KNH7-cdt9OU1vt_JtN7rU5kPw8_LNpBc1t5WkWX14F16OD1ISfLe2MmgRXgVfEBRlgo72JQtd3zXHmVpOuOjnww7UvqBSfbj6nBTYCQCQIO4fN39r8MHFTxvWmYj_g9TT9NlGOhq8/s1600/Screenshot-1188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiV29KNH7-cdt9OU1vt_JtN7rU5kPw8_LNpBc1t5WkWX14F16OD1ISfLe2MmgRXgVfEBRlgo72JQtd3zXHmVpOuOjnww7UvqBSfbj6nBTYCQCQIO4fN39r8MHFTxvWmYj_g9TT9NlGOhq8/s640/Screenshot-1188.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Its gotten dark and Turner invites me outside to look at the stars<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I wanted you to see this view<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfN_mwVp8cYf1QUZhvAga0Cyw0qXlZy_n_Hoqv9_BzTovFYabs_4JHhI5-TNBwQp3zL3pYOkmN6Kx-QpgD-8VU-4IVcngYrpfOKSQL1Nz9GLpMqNGB3eKZFPuMqjShstcC2W39aAiktoU/s1600/Screenshot-1189.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfN_mwVp8cYf1QUZhvAga0Cyw0qXlZy_n_Hoqv9_BzTovFYabs_4JHhI5-TNBwQp3zL3pYOkmN6Kx-QpgD-8VU-4IVcngYrpfOKSQL1Nz9GLpMqNGB3eKZFPuMqjShstcC2W39aAiktoU/s640/Screenshot-1189.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> It's amazing<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCBMDBHKUZfEeNJiagguqjGNif9E3WOU9VMcVNcGAb4CKsSmPdPM3s1zELW69yE7WdgNgwSEiE_oMOyYZl81yYil3wKITr3F8pojYcUGRBnAq1a_xbg9SqNgzvqqFQrTziBEp89qeuqM/s1600/Screenshot-1191.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTCBMDBHKUZfEeNJiagguqjGNif9E3WOU9VMcVNcGAb4CKsSmPdPM3s1zELW69yE7WdgNgwSEiE_oMOyYZl81yYil3wKITr3F8pojYcUGRBnAq1a_xbg9SqNgzvqqFQrTziBEp89qeuqM/s640/Screenshot-1191.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We sit together in silence for sometime before I push him back against the ground and move closer to him resting my head on his shoulder<b>.</b> I wordlessly pass it off as just being sweet and romantic<b>. </b>Which it is, but also I'm felling that sudden tiredness again<b>. </b>As I close my eyes I feel him kiss the top of my head<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Everything alright my beauty? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Good question<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mhmm<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-NnB2mQSeZMxVK318dj_69QBqjxbQpDK2i-0oGZfXG33U0fUYok0_NQKaf8SeaEvPhQ8nNUNAmKh1Tu0ex2E2hl616D5dw_E1ramcty8Wn3npVCTtkYrYcsN30aQmdGTm4lEa0mYCepY/s1600/Screenshot-1197.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-NnB2mQSeZMxVK318dj_69QBqjxbQpDK2i-0oGZfXG33U0fUYok0_NQKaf8SeaEvPhQ8nNUNAmKh1Tu0ex2E2hl616D5dw_E1ramcty8Wn3npVCTtkYrYcsN30aQmdGTm4lEa0mYCepY/s640/Screenshot-1197.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A short time later after the slight wave of tiredness had passed, I start to head inside and see this adorable little dog chasing its tail in front of the door<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRDOY-O7G90Ab4DocBEoMUcMFKlZl8vfjvLsHl7yYXzi26y8polvGKSU7xDXWhtI7mAL9seK8vd2Mc6-N9eskrIgv9DANSqngAEb60QinQxjfHApyriVmQ7bIF_Cm5sQZn_sSKg-Ibg0/s1600/Screenshot-1203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKRDOY-O7G90Ab4DocBEoMUcMFKlZl8vfjvLsHl7yYXzi26y8polvGKSU7xDXWhtI7mAL9seK8vd2Mc6-N9eskrIgv9DANSqngAEb60QinQxjfHApyriVmQ7bIF_Cm5sQZn_sSKg-Ibg0/s640/Screenshot-1203.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me -</i> </b>Well hello there little fella<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Stooping down I let him sniff my hand before petting him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Aren't you a cutie?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Turner coming around from back heading inside as well but stops upon seeing me with the dog<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> And whose this?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> He doesn't have a collar and I can't feel a chip<b>. </b>He<b> </b>must be a stray<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Would you like to keep him?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Seriously?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> Of course, he really seems to like you<b>. </b>Can't say I blame the little guy<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> He does doesn't he?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Before I brought her here Laura mentioned she worked as a nurse, maybe she can tell me why I've been having this sudden waves of exhaustion<b>.</b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcyCFdibLbMXrQekfJkc-obo2yqvti83Qj2n8iWatZO44FVg5kJVBtZ2cpNBT1hRzR0K3PcMkvocXVfakVjxVZq81jSkG9pfbtFNNbTpsEOFjEwKiQOG8N3DNRvNe5x0QrpKoycqkl1Q/s1600/Screenshot-1163.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtcyCFdibLbMXrQekfJkc-obo2yqvti83Qj2n8iWatZO44FVg5kJVBtZ2cpNBT1hRzR0K3PcMkvocXVfakVjxVZq81jSkG9pfbtFNNbTpsEOFjEwKiQOG8N3DNRvNe5x0QrpKoycqkl1Q/s640/Screenshot-1163.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">I find her and have to quickly cover my mouth to stop the gasp of shock moving to hide along the wall<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-33825738846657038102011-10-26T13:44:00.000-07:002015-09-20T00:27:53.512-07:00Chapter Sixteen (Rewrite)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLImEqcs2BUN12OBOZl_hvvL_wvNWBGkUwfZz3AyzKBG8g1SMiEy4QDzmH7qnfPyjAXUoi6IBONLDyHaLOj2YJDHkmzRU8YBWAWJ1KS0Tm9-JUqTvhmjLUwrNUheFxYoq2fmRPAZDG07g/s1600/Screenshot-1157.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLImEqcs2BUN12OBOZl_hvvL_wvNWBGkUwfZz3AyzKBG8g1SMiEy4QDzmH7qnfPyjAXUoi6IBONLDyHaLOj2YJDHkmzRU8YBWAWJ1KS0Tm9-JUqTvhmjLUwrNUheFxYoq2fmRPAZDG07g/s640/Screenshot-1157.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I don't know what I expected<b>; </b>that I would show up and he'd just be happy to have me back and we would be together? That I wouldn't just be here not even sure what I feel<b>.</b> The only feeling I know for sure is guilt, made worse when I see his face and the pain in his eyes<b>.</b> He doesn't know I'm awake, that I know he's there<b>. </b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDwBovAwk3RgvqftzcfuX7njZzB5wkolQoEj3fyZAofItVm0N1asTSFBuLZKXldGHyCCk-FdETDD1TdZO54lBozRNEJ6cCA55oSHOM6h_RPyrO72h36GHDvzbmXh9gz4ssKiQwpN7ywE/s1600/Screenshot-1158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQDwBovAwk3RgvqftzcfuX7njZzB5wkolQoEj3fyZAofItVm0N1asTSFBuLZKXldGHyCCk-FdETDD1TdZO54lBozRNEJ6cCA55oSHOM6h_RPyrO72h36GHDvzbmXh9gz4ssKiQwpN7ywE/s640/Screenshot-1158.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He stands there for a moment before walking away<b>. </b>I wish I could know what he's thinking<b>.</b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">~*~</span></b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2AxJmLd4P1L4BL8D5V1qxRnquc9uy7twpd3MuTvgggQWQcsKtrtDzvwoWwQMQnMAdHQmmuOr_ieBvM8jvQm4imV3h0kKAdtyOp73KOMl811PcGC1yuCi2ROLS-5TcETK-I30baceUyw/s1600/Screenshot-1137.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ2AxJmLd4P1L4BL8D5V1qxRnquc9uy7twpd3MuTvgggQWQcsKtrtDzvwoWwQMQnMAdHQmmuOr_ieBvM8jvQm4imV3h0kKAdtyOp73KOMl811PcGC1yuCi2ROLS-5TcETK-I30baceUyw/s640/Screenshot-1137.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Don't try and act like you're any better than the rest of us, you're one of us<b>.</b></div>
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I slap him, <i><b>hard</b></i><b>.</b> It feels really good to be on the other end of the exchange for once<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Don't you dare compare me to you<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I've done bad things, but so have you<b>, </b>things I haven't<b>.</b> I wasn't with them when they brought you here.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Yet <b><i>you</i></b> bring us her<b>.</b></div>
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He gestures at the lock down cell and at Laura, my replacement<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Why...why are you like this? No one's born a monster<b>.</b> </div>
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<b><i>Me- </i></b>What makes someone end up like <i>you</i>?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> You don't wanna know<b>.</b></div>
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With that he walks up and I follow, catching him just outside of his room.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I asked a question clearly I <i>do </i>want to know<b>. </b></div>
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He sighs, turning to face me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Alright<b>.</b> Give me your hand<b>.</b></div>
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I look at him suspiciously<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>I'm not going to hurt you, if I were going to try anything, <i>I wouldn't ask</i><b>.</b></div>
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He rolled his eyes after a moment and sighed softly when I still don't reply. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> <i>I swear on my <b>mother</b></i>, wherever she may be<b>...</b></div>
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I finally hold out my hand, his grip is surprisingly gentle as takes it before pressing my fingers to his wrist hard enough to feel the bone and moving up along his arm. My face twisted in confusion and I look up at him feeling something.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i> The bone is different there, I know. That's one of many breaks there were never properly set.</div>
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I pull my hand away, silently.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>My fathers doing.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>A bad life is no excuse for bad behavior, to be no better then the person who made it that way for you<b>. </b></div>
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<b><i>Adam -</i></b> This may surprise you, but I agree<b>.</b> Events change people, other people change people, but despite what most people think we don't change ourselves, we are who we are<b>.</b> I had always had a hard life but I wasn't always...<i>this</i><b>.</b></div>
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I can't believe my ears, the tone of self loathing and disgust in his voice<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>So you were knocked you around by your father<b>.</b> It's no excuse<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i> I know, I agree<b>. </b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Then why are you telling me this? Do you think it changes anything?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i> You asked, remember? You want to know what makes me someone like me, I can't tell you anyone's story but my own. My mother left when I was two. I don't blame her, she had to get away from him, and she would have taken me if she could. I was a good kid, I did everything to try to please him. . It didn't make any difference though, not even my perfect grades<b>.</b> I was an overachiever in school, my even earned a slot in Weston Academy<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Weston Academy? You're from Weston Valley?</div>
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Weston Academy for Boys was the counterpart of my school Weston Preparatory School for Girls<b>.</b> </div>
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He laughs, and it's not his usual laugh, heartless and often made at someone else's expense, but a true, genuine <i>laugh</i><b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Yes<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Alright then, if you were such a good kid, which I find hard to believe, then what changed?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> A week after I turned fourteen, I started volunteering at the hospital, it kept out of the house, away from him, and I was able to do some good at the same time<b>. </b>The first day I met this patient who had supposedly fallen off a bike and landed badly, breaking her arm<b>.</b> I could tell though that that wasn't true, having used the same story myself<b>. </b>Her name was Kiara and we became fast friends<b>.</b> She was twelve when we met, a year and two weeks younger than me, oddly enough we met the week between our birthdays<b>.</b> Her father hurt her too, but he was an alcoholic and would hit her when drunk, but then he would feel bad about it later...so he'd try to drink away his guilt<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b>. </b>A vicious cycle really, but she got out. She was put with a foster family while her father was forced into rehab<b>.</b> We were a couple by then and I thought she was lucky at the time but she wasn't. Her foster family was awful,<b> </b>they wanted to change her, act like her past didn't exist, and I was part of that past<b>.</b></span></b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I feel for her<b>.</b> So her foster parents kept you apart<b>.</b> Is that it? Everything you went though before and <i>that </i>made you snap or something?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Yes, no, it wasn't so much that they separated us but how<b>. </b>It was years later, her father never managed to stay sober long enough to get her back<b>.</b> She called me and had me come over. She was crying; she told me they had made her dye her hair<b>.</b> "They're trying to erase me<b>,</b>" she said.</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> That's awful<b>.</b> I really feel bad for <i>her</i><b>.</b> What about you? </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>I'm getting to that<b>.</b></div>
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He snapped, is voice suddenly took on the harsher tone I was used to<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I don't like talking about any of this, especially with you<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> And what's that supposed to mean?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>As if<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i> you would want to talk to if our me roles reversed?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me -</b> I told you before, never compare me to you. I have every reason not to want to talk to want to talk to you, you have nothing. Go on. </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I'd always hated seeing her hurt even before we were together<b>.</b> I held and comforted her and<b>...</b></div>
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He sighs, trying to gather his thoughts and chose his words<b>.</b></div>
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I just nod, it's obvious where it's headed and he's right this is not a subject I want to talk to <i>him</i> about, but it seems he might finally be about to actually answer my question<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>They found us<b>.</b> It wasn't even supposed to happen<b>.</b> We had been together before but<b>...</b></div>
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I give him a confused look<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>It was the week between our birthdays again, I had just turned eighteen, but she was still sixteen<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> <i>We'd been together for three years</i><b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I can't believe I'm saying this, but it wasn't your fault<b>. </b>You clearly loved her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Very much, I<b> </b>still do<b> </b>and I always will, even though I know I'll never see her again<b>...</b>To be honest, I don't know if I want to, I don't...</div>
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His voice cracks, I didn't believe he was capable of such emotion<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You don't want her to see what you've become<b>.</b></div>
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He looks at me for a moment and I know I'm right<b>.</b></div>
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Turner comes to my room again, this is the third night he's come in and stood there,watching me<b>.</b> <i>What is he thinking?</i> I wonder as he turns to leave<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Don't go<b>.</b></div>
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He stops and looks over his shoulder<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> You're awake?</div>
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I nod though I'm not sure if he can see me<b>.</b></div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>Don't go<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Please<b>.</b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-88257651153848708662011-10-20T05:05:00.000-07:002011-10-20T12:00:23.618-07:00Chapter Fifteen<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEils1kvg14Q4FDgMc3g4K8deJp8i8Xuga3sbtXJWeoVGIBxpQW1QYzczgC7p9xvovmFOz2CP0z1719xwY6T7NaORaXWONXRBqWAZcKJIhGkOT3tqydr5yjaiB7DD-hIy6DQOKYuvOVspfI/s640/Screenshot-1043.jpg" width="640" /></div>
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Of course I noticed it right away<b>. </b>The hair color, eyes, the same rich skin tone<b>. </b>I just didn't want to believe it<b>.</b> But I can't deny it<b>.</b> Lots of people look alike though, right? It doesn't necessarily mean anything<b>... </b>right? After my nap, I get on my computer<b>.</b></div>
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I have to know for sure<b>. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfprbKJ9P9wT7W_dEI8DEeUiXJKGSbtQFnL-XMerKkovpcUPTXam9EBOq8NcjzpkaRvijDuu4nTW0bBjF8qPzKcECSHybWyFYI_OQnc9tPkceTwJxPc9MJnmBlxpD1-aHSXl1eqhHeow/s1600/Screenshot-1091.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglfprbKJ9P9wT7W_dEI8DEeUiXJKGSbtQFnL-XMerKkovpcUPTXam9EBOq8NcjzpkaRvijDuu4nTW0bBjF8qPzKcECSHybWyFYI_OQnc9tPkceTwJxPc9MJnmBlxpD1-aHSXl1eqhHeow/s640/Screenshot-1091.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Even though I've thought of being a chef when I was younger, I wanted to be a lawyer like my father<b>.</b> One summer I worked as an assistant to one of the lawyers at his old firm<b>.</b> I used this computer<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67aQj9CQqHTwtGzQgGHH1olXMMhun07k3ibdRqqiTPeOFEdsdafjWWrRNRKrIQw4RPyIhmp5hSg3SAOdrIX-UEwMN9ZF8TOFyLS_HyhcSQClGkaL3xjsOV381-8JzNEXUZk4s8r43UH8/s1600/Screenshot-1094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj67aQj9CQqHTwtGzQgGHH1olXMMhun07k3ibdRqqiTPeOFEdsdafjWWrRNRKrIQw4RPyIhmp5hSg3SAOdrIX-UEwMN9ZF8TOFyLS_HyhcSQClGkaL3xjsOV381-8JzNEXUZk4s8r43UH8/s640/Screenshot-1094.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Because of this I have access to sites and records not readily available to the public<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd1ej3m3O-etCETeYqNxtyz8PGHXO8YWw8PD2z3kJBwd987jpW4T5UputRB82w25tRaQRxuctBDvodLSt37gFsoDpCM51n2SlIr6aqkjLHWdJWO4kS3_7w5gRyghcjGuck1-wFygQjQ8/s1600/Screenshot-1092.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnd1ej3m3O-etCETeYqNxtyz8PGHXO8YWw8PD2z3kJBwd987jpW4T5UputRB82w25tRaQRxuctBDvodLSt37gFsoDpCM51n2SlIr6aqkjLHWdJWO4kS3_7w5gRyghcjGuck1-wFygQjQ8/s640/Screenshot-1092.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I quickly and easily find the sites I want<b>. </b>Opening the site archives, I cross-reference birth and adoption records with case files<b>. </b></div>
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I knew what I would find<b>. </b>I just needed to see proof to make myself believe it<b>.</b> Kitty is <i>his </i>niece<b>...</b> Turner's<b>.</b> The baby his sister gave away<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQOPidpwRNYcEmAIOZMnKK0z_arKPZUqL_1v4iQhyf_XrpXc9Hd43gEDG2kVKqY8vPSyxvcL3Tjc5nIYCfMCezZ7daf2RNpCHqUpT243gXLaG1WuYbuzm4BY_83v2ZtTMqkBlfWWHXrQ/s1600/Screenshot-1111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKQOPidpwRNYcEmAIOZMnKK0z_arKPZUqL_1v4iQhyf_XrpXc9Hd43gEDG2kVKqY8vPSyxvcL3Tjc5nIYCfMCezZ7daf2RNpCHqUpT243gXLaG1WuYbuzm4BY_83v2ZtTMqkBlfWWHXrQ/s640/Screenshot-1111.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After dinner, Sarah and I sit and talk<b>.</b></div>
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Somehow, we end up on the subject of my mother<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I don't know her and I don't want to<b>. </b>I hate her<b>.</b> Not like some bratty teenager, I genuinely HATE her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"></i></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKRtBhB2UidFVHnT_mhkAFOwvmEgabEZOvY_ModBbo6aLRnmi860J6_VRxNNCkWGN84IMxEF_VolHCU5w0vWYr_LHzP7AwPX0m5JDTupMJNHdtGpFehePuoq-Qyf0v18_4WaXVe0EANg/s1600/Screenshot-1113.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiKRtBhB2UidFVHnT_mhkAFOwvmEgabEZOvY_ModBbo6aLRnmi860J6_VRxNNCkWGN84IMxEF_VolHCU5w0vWYr_LHzP7AwPX0m5JDTupMJNHdtGpFehePuoq-Qyf0v18_4WaXVe0EANg/s640/Screenshot-1113.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah -</i> Andrew loved her though, he used to talk about her sometimes<b>.</b> She <i>acted</i> like she loved him, making him fall for her<b>, t</b>hen she just left him<b>.</b> Who does that to someone?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQ6uNF96HjdNpelmC04AvV9xuBM3t5vFB41uxdJo3H2Ix8HJjvqWhDEMhxVOMzwFgsBvbbxjcbvqTPcSQ1KH5JGkD_9r2crrlLWGWJxCtcos98KJZuSGFwF4Ptvd3cJSGOACZFBcsWMc/s1600/Screenshot-1116.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxQ6uNF96HjdNpelmC04AvV9xuBM3t5vFB41uxdJo3H2Ix8HJjvqWhDEMhxVOMzwFgsBvbbxjcbvqTPcSQ1KH5JGkD_9r2crrlLWGWJxCtcos98KJZuSGFwF4Ptvd3cJSGOACZFBcsWMc/s640/Screenshot-1116.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b>...</b></div>
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Me<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2-MFopSDbTK8bEuCCL1hyzsXYJdqp968xluymwSDBzBFaJXCfps8HmGjN4Ckp18kigHlpsg4he3c_3L-F0eLOAyJ3yuRL0pyBrB0r3aPttz76PJN0mXjt3wV_BIu9p82j26TypYtZw4/s1600/Screenshot-1117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ2-MFopSDbTK8bEuCCL1hyzsXYJdqp968xluymwSDBzBFaJXCfps8HmGjN4Ckp18kigHlpsg4he3c_3L-F0eLOAyJ3yuRL0pyBrB0r3aPttz76PJN0mXjt3wV_BIu9p82j26TypYtZw4/s640/Screenshot-1117.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh god!</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah -</i> What's wrong?</div>
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So I tell her<b>.</b> Once again I retell the tail of where I have been and all that has happened<b>.</b> She doesn't say anything<b>.</b> Does she make the same comparison? Does she judge me? </div>
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After what seems like forever, she finally speaks<b>.</b></div>
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It's late when we finish talking and I head to bed<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiprOmwqHyOvx6o_rESL51qrH2htz2-Rc7oKMh5yaLJGl-ndy5lPEAhjZPsbM541jcxw4ds_GpH4braG-dU-Sy0DIEr8MCfWYhTiINya8GcOeGhzMd6Sn_xMlz7GZln1EwIvmTa2_QmKc/s1600/Screenshot-1121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiprOmwqHyOvx6o_rESL51qrH2htz2-Rc7oKMh5yaLJGl-ndy5lPEAhjZPsbM541jcxw4ds_GpH4braG-dU-Sy0DIEr8MCfWYhTiINya8GcOeGhzMd6Sn_xMlz7GZln1EwIvmTa2_QmKc/s640/Screenshot-1121.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Waking up, I make the bed<b>.</b></div>
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I love showering in the outdoors<b>.</b> I run a hand though my hair as a gentle breeze brushes softly against my skin<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06quw9bUxLdYIKXftDv1OAuG2wMd_NGamTy51EOVgF1gDme7V_-uebPi434A9inmobLIWRUqcOomPCbZ4PdeuMmZvpaAKC9FG-gB3YBVfDFwF1HrYX3Fh9EsHrs0e42mh538Gi7PfXJQ/s1600/Screenshot-1087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh06quw9bUxLdYIKXftDv1OAuG2wMd_NGamTy51EOVgF1gDme7V_-uebPi434A9inmobLIWRUqcOomPCbZ4PdeuMmZvpaAKC9FG-gB3YBVfDFwF1HrYX3Fh9EsHrs0e42mh538Gi7PfXJQ/s640/Screenshot-1087.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After my shower, I sink into the hot tub and close my eyes<b>.</b> I take in a deep breath of the clean crisp morning air<b> </b>and listen to the birds chirping overhead and the fish splashing in the small stream below<b>.</b></div>
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While I like the idea of becoming a chef, I still really wish to be a lawyer<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJdwXZo-o5uCY66Lv-rl9Z1izUopMB2y4heTmGAcdZ3KBnnpDE1UdcvPvmO0CiDc1rKzskBFekfoJf7mnFCA8FAMi_yhGg4qP6Pcr0lMsZ6955dc9niI8JtJf7E2Sqzt2u1xVfQw_whQ/s1600/Screenshot-1125.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdJdwXZo-o5uCY66Lv-rl9Z1izUopMB2y4heTmGAcdZ3KBnnpDE1UdcvPvmO0CiDc1rKzskBFekfoJf7mnFCA8FAMi_yhGg4qP6Pcr0lMsZ6955dc9niI8JtJf7E2Sqzt2u1xVfQw_whQ/s640/Screenshot-1125.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Luckily there is no record of me being caught shoplifting when I was sixteen, so that little incident isn't a problem when I apply for law school<b>.</b> That's what I get for trying something different<b>.</b></div>
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Should have stuck to picking pockets<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Rylie, what are you doing in Weston Valley?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie -</i> Nice to see you too<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I didn't mean.. of course it's good to see you<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie - </i>Alright<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Is something wrong?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Rylie - </b>I get why you left, but I thought I was your friend<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You were, you are<b>.</b> I should have said something to you<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> It doesn't matter now though<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie -</i> It doesn't? And why not?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Because... because I'm coming back<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie -</i> You're coming back?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Yes<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie - </i>Now?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>There's one thing I want to do first, then we'll head back<b>.</b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">I hadn't planned to<b>.</b> It didn't occur to me until I said it, but I am, I'm going back<b>.</b> I mean I should at least tell Turner about Kitty, right? Sarah asked me if I thought my mother ever felt guilty for leaving us, I said no</span>.</b> Then she asked why and as I started to answer, I realized her point, I said she never felt guilty because... because she didn't care about us<b>. </b>Maybe it's just from comparing myself to her, but I <i>do</i> feel guilty<b>.</b> Does that mean I care about him? Honestly I don't know, and I suppose that says something in its self, doesn't it? If I didn't know that, I can't truly say I don't<b>.</b> What I do know is that I need to find out<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-78073709764148571872011-10-07T23:36:00.000-07:002011-10-08T07:23:04.051-07:00Chapter Fourteen<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large; font-weight: 800;">The following song is one I have liked for a long time and feel that it is fitting to were I am at with this story so I feel it would add something to the reading experience to listen to while reading and as always... </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i style="font-weight: 800;">ENJOY!</i></span><br />
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Kitty and I went to a place in town<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> I'm glad to have my best friend back<b>.</b><br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I'm glad too<b>.</b> So you and Donny huh?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i>Yeah<b>. </b>Me and Donny<b>. </b>Can you believe it?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I remember he wanted you for <i>years</i><b style="font-style: italic;">.</b><i> Years</i>, that boy was after you and you won't give him the time of day<b>.</b> So how'd it happen? And when? How long have you two been together?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Ha-ha whoa whoa<b>. </b>One question at a time girlie<b>.</b> It's been almost six years<b>.</b> Since a few months after you disappeared<b>.</b> I actually started to like him a little while before that, but nothing happened until this one night a bunch of us went out and I was still really upset about you<b>.</b> He was so sweet, and he comforted me, and I admitted I liked him ... well, one thing led to another<b>.</b> We've been together ever since<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPbJ4xD4g1GlU4h2mkvi4bz50eFtp3mIxvv7DaF-hn1aKGHdZV-LdtUFfcBlDKkLKN_w0aUuwnBtK8Zlu3Ef49yQ2xXW4iyFKlnAY-b2yOpGGRMhxBSLUS3yVx8RJcF0xCeHZ9ZgYgRE/s1600/Screenshot-1037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQPbJ4xD4g1GlU4h2mkvi4bz50eFtp3mIxvv7DaF-hn1aKGHdZV-LdtUFfcBlDKkLKN_w0aUuwnBtK8Zlu3Ef49yQ2xXW4iyFKlnAY-b2yOpGGRMhxBSLUS3yVx8RJcF0xCeHZ9ZgYgRE/s640/Screenshot-1037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Enough about Donny and me, or you and me<b>. </b>What about Shawn and you? You must be so glad to be back together<b>.</b></div>
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I look away<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i>Hayley? You are glad to be back with Shawn... Aren't you?</div>
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I sigh before turning back to her<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I... I don't know<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> You don't know?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Things just aren't the same<b>. </b>It doesn't feel the same<b>.</b> <i>I</i> don't feel the same<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i> You don't love him?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> No! That's not it<b>.</b> I mean <b>...</b> I don't think so<b>.</b> </div>
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Is it?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i>You don't know? Maybe that's your answer<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> But he's so sweet and caring and... perfect and he's been part of my life longer than I can remember<b>.</b> I have known him my whole life<b>.</b> We were friends long before we realized we belonged together, that we loved each other<b>. </b>How could I not love him? </div>
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<b><i>Kitty -</i></b> Do you even hear yourself Hayley? Lov<b>ed</b><i> </i>Belong<b>ed</b><b>. </b>You're using past tense<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I love him, I do but...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> But not that same way you used to<b>.</b> That was the past, another life<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I just don't feel right inside<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty - </i>You need to talk to him<b>.</b> You need to tell <i>him</i> this<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;"> Me - </i>I know<b>.</b> I don't want to hurt him<b>.</b></div>
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It's late evening when we arrive back at the apartment and Donny informs me that Shawn is taking a swim on the roof<b>.</b> Hearing me come thought the door he starts to climb out<b>.</b> God, this would have been hard enough if he were clothed<b>.</b> I'm not in love with him anymore, but I can't say I'm not still attracted to him<b>. </b>I mean look at him<b>.</b><b> </b>I bite my bottom admiring his body<b>.</b></div>
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Coming over, he wraps his arms around me and starts to pull me into a kiss<b>. </b>I know I should stop him but I don't<b>.</b></div>
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And so I share one last kiss with the man that was once the love of my life<b>.</b> While I did have other boyfriends before, finally realizing I wanted Shawn, I never loved any of them<b>. </b>How do you tell the only man you've ever loved that you don't anymore?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I can't do this<b>.</b> I can't do this anymore<b>.</b> You know I love you, I you know I do, but<b>..</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> But what Hayley? I've been in love with you longer then I can remember<b>.</b> I have known you my whole life<b>.</b> You were such a big part of my life and then for six years you just disappeared and then you came back into my life just as suddenly<b>.</b> SIX YEARS HAYLEY!! And I just took you back and now this<b>...</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBsGOg1M5KY4JBy_3jco7VPdJ4C_33K9xxEEgNQQuIlCOKL002DMnIb6Nv-T8L65IhFEaVH0DHMDLyIYqUfT9_ZvBk76OWqlvMo6ZS88721zLfVFIaBmc0Hw2Of4ta_cXfp5t_xpMIBg/s1600/Screenshot-1063.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaBsGOg1M5KY4JBy_3jco7VPdJ4C_33K9xxEEgNQQuIlCOKL002DMnIb6Nv-T8L65IhFEaVH0DHMDLyIYqUfT9_ZvBk76OWqlvMo6ZS88721zLfVFIaBmc0Hw2Of4ta_cXfp5t_xpMIBg/s640/Screenshot-1063.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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My voice cracks and my eyes start to water.</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Me - </b>I know<b>. </b>I wish I didn't feel this way<b>.</b></div>
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He does the opposite<b>. </b>Seeing how hurt I am,having to hurt him, he pulls me close<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaBsWhgBUMxGnAaBxwzm_ftOsTDxQ36AfGgt47OHGjvJROmCxi4XgSAuNMahU5kb4Vp8pQ50zIP2KTqw7_hR0k9EpE0TfGZw6wDlIataRI_xKzy2W2gW0Bl5KXadB6i234XgK6NwDfp0/s1600/Screenshot-1069.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaaBsWhgBUMxGnAaBxwzm_ftOsTDxQ36AfGgt47OHGjvJROmCxi4XgSAuNMahU5kb4Vp8pQ50zIP2KTqw7_hR0k9EpE0TfGZw6wDlIataRI_xKzy2W2gW0Bl5KXadB6i234XgK6NwDfp0/s640/Screenshot-1069.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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This is why I loved him<b>.</b> I'm breaking up with him and he's comforting me<b>.</b> He's so sweet<b>.</b> He's prefect.... he's just not perfect for me<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I didn't mean to snap like that<b>.</b> I guess we need to talk<b>.</b></div>
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<b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"><b><i>Me - </i></b><b> </b>I wish I could save from this hurt, but things will never go back to how we were<b>. </b></span></b></div>
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<b><i>Me - </i></b>All these years I got used to living with out you<b>.</b> I dreamed about you... I guess I was in love with your memory<b>. </b>The memory of what we once were<b>.</b> I think this,being with you again, was really more about closure<b>.</b> Our relationship never really ended before<b>.</b> We need to end it right before we can move on<b>.</b> </div>
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To my surprise instead of getting upset, whether that means snapping and yelling again or saddening, he just sighs and looks off for a moment<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I suppose you're right<b>.</b> I guess...</div>
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He pauses to pick his words</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I guess I needed to be able to hold you again before I could let you go<b>.</b></div>
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Somehow without thinking I giggle at his word play<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Thats it exactly<b>.</b></div>
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He sighs again before standing<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I guess this is goodbye<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Does it have to be? We were friends once<b>.</b> I can't go back to not having you in my life<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> And I can't go back to being just you're friend<b>.</b> I don't know maybe someday but not right now<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Oh<b>.</b> I,I understand<b>.</b></div>
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I stand lean carefully against the roof borders and stare off<b>.</b> Yet again I find my self not really knowing what to do,where to go from here<b>.</b> Eventually it hits me<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintW9InRTEveJptUVAT25u314hV1C7t6veTLQwBP3-vbVcNWITv8XOPc4SGTC5reiZ4nfoBbM3z1EEa_BMFyc1FQv4tg4sZV0Wp8pdOjQLd2P7R7ChfHHDm9h0sCTb34MAalGVqVWjFIA/s1600/Screenshot-1071.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEintW9InRTEveJptUVAT25u314hV1C7t6veTLQwBP3-vbVcNWITv8XOPc4SGTC5reiZ4nfoBbM3z1EEa_BMFyc1FQv4tg4sZV0Wp8pdOjQLd2P7R7ChfHHDm9h0sCTb34MAalGVqVWjFIA/s640/Screenshot-1071.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I give the cab driver the remainder of the money I have and the directions to the address I want to go to in Weston Valley<b>.</b> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7l3XFxMO58wAJMDIzWPZdgMGkdTNkjlKjvv1SFdryvhyphenhyphenlRv9Mmwmnh1Hs2uM-bc1wlHhILX__DkgErKtXgj22EkHTozjkK_SXoEvOxvIY0P1qphqMXydCAXKKx4Rw83z1WgA8uD7fps/s1600/Screenshot-1072.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjT7l3XFxMO58wAJMDIzWPZdgMGkdTNkjlKjvv1SFdryvhyphenhyphenlRv9Mmwmnh1Hs2uM-bc1wlHhILX__DkgErKtXgj22EkHTozjkK_SXoEvOxvIY0P1qphqMXydCAXKKx4Rw83z1WgA8uD7fps/s640/Screenshot-1072.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A little over half an hour later, we pull up<b>.</b></div>
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Getting out I look up at the house I lived in from the time I was three up until my enslavement<b>. </b>I walk up to the door and easily find the spare key above the door frame<b>.</b></div>
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I don't go into the front building of the house but instead walk though the enclosure<b>.</b> She must have heard me<b>.</b> Our eyes meet as we both reach the stairs<b>.</b> </div>
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We take a moment seeming to decide how to greet each other<b>.</b> Sarah and I were never close enough for us to hug and yet almost anything else seems either to formal or informal<b>.</b> Finally, we end up exchanging a somewhat awkward handshake<b>.</b></div>
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She leads me to one of the back living buildings<b>.</b> Inside I know is a bedroom with living area and a bathroom that lets off to a patio with a hottub and outdoor shower<b>.</b></div>
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Entering I'm for some reason surprised to find my old room exactly as I last saw it<b>.</b> My eye is instantly drawn to my record player and the case holding my favorite albums<b>.</b></div>
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Next I see my harp<b>.</b></div>
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But the thing that really draws my eye is on Sarah's wrist<b>.</b> The watch my father gave her shortly before we found out how sick he was<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i> I thought Lawrence didn't like you wearing that<b>.</b></div>
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Lawrence didn't like anything that reminded him how much she loved my father<b>.</b> So you can image how he felt about me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah -</i> One of several reasons I'm not with Lawrence anymore<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Really?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah - </i>Hayley , I'm not going to lie and say I love you like my own, though I wish I could, but I do <i>care</i><b>.</b><i> </i>Even if only for the fact that you are Andrew's daughter<b>.</b> When you went missing it was like losing him again<b>.</b> I don't care about all the stuff, you're really the only I have of him<b>.</b> </div>
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Wow<b>.</b> I always though she might of cared a little, that she wouldn't have just been glad to be rid of me when I was taken , but I still wasn't expecting this<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh Sarah, I, I don't know what to say<b>.</b> I ,um, I was wondering if I could stay here though... for a few days maybe?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah - </i>Hayley, of course, this is your home<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> okay,um, thank you<b>.</b></div>
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She laughs<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah - </i>No, need to thank me<b>.</b> As I said, this is your home<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfoLqpw94pOq4n8e91joyRCw8PAI58OFOx2cSwH4LyH9P4dU5b8UR-IPus4uNYp6KdJYknE_oVFSFiNDSF2-3IhmiTlTEDpqrBL-_mHDDJrh-EjMsK3LzxQVCRkZhQtF2cLJyjoYg2Eo/s1600/Screenshot-1082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIfoLqpw94pOq4n8e91joyRCw8PAI58OFOx2cSwH4LyH9P4dU5b8UR-IPus4uNYp6KdJYknE_oVFSFiNDSF2-3IhmiTlTEDpqrBL-_mHDDJrh-EjMsK3LzxQVCRkZhQtF2cLJyjoYg2Eo/s640/Screenshot-1082.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Sarah - </i>I would like to hear where you've been at some point if you feel like telling me, but I'll leave you be for now<b>.</b></div>
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<b></b>I stare as she leaves<b>.</b> She's changed<b>. ...</b> Has she changed or is it just the way I see her has changed now that I'm not some troubled kid stuck with her? Heading across the room I put on a record and turn the volume low<b>.</b> </div>
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I'm not <i>that </i>tired and don't plan on taking a nap as I settle down onto my bed but it just feels so good to be back in <i style="font-weight: bold;">my </i>bed<b>.</b> I start to dream<b>.</b> In my dream, I see Kitty and though I have every time I've seen her since being free<b>...</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFTM76qHrg7GKW042hvdgJbZAls60sN3ef6fL01sElYw2GlithJV9vzJum1urbsJe4xM6GWhI3iz3wr1kJXf_-Yk7eZGgZiSsY1ynv_WV8aLMVTFENj_FdmjIEKCacMjYLUc3CTuXCDM/s1600/Screenshot-1043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqFTM76qHrg7GKW042hvdgJbZAls60sN3ef6fL01sElYw2GlithJV9vzJum1urbsJe4xM6GWhI3iz3wr1kJXf_-Yk7eZGgZiSsY1ynv_WV8aLMVTFENj_FdmjIEKCacMjYLUc3CTuXCDM/s640/Screenshot-1043.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Suddenly I can't deny it anymore<b>.</b></div>
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~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-64099773879668311902011-09-30T20:56:00.000-07:002011-09-30T22:09:02.701-07:00Chapter Thirteen<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone cannot read this, but if you have an issue with the somewhat adult subject matter remember that you were warned.</b><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b></span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i><b>ENJOY</b></i><b>.</b></span></span></i></b></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6mjn-cQaeSBkZYQDYsCpwYGEtEoeVKea21t6gRJJB_CFCgUy39xqAkSJmrMMyrFQ5YudaCiIRZ8o9Vj3zjNJlS5D5wzZn_iDxpaFrIwz_iSvpYS3XCMfuQKlfXG5HDg4Oj1IZuHMvcQ/s1600/Screenshot-988.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS6mjn-cQaeSBkZYQDYsCpwYGEtEoeVKea21t6gRJJB_CFCgUy39xqAkSJmrMMyrFQ5YudaCiIRZ8o9Vj3zjNJlS5D5wzZn_iDxpaFrIwz_iSvpYS3XCMfuQKlfXG5HDg4Oj1IZuHMvcQ/s640/Screenshot-988.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After heading into town and getting some real clothes as well as some other things I wander around not really knowing were to go when I find this place<b>.</b> I remember there was a similar little lookout back home<b>. </b>Now that I finally allow myself to think of the past. I remember a lot of things about home<b>, </b>not all of it is good<b>.</b> Yes I remember the great times with my friends but I also remember my "family"<b>. </b>My father worked a lot, but still found time for me, we were everything to each other<b>. </b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWxZVqZgi7Sg21TtIyf7ctjDSyrKxdCOPFPFrWgiLQ9zpOZE69KmJV_gdoIN8aI0IMRK4kh3Tn_PnzlZv6ey3dhayDJlpqUwOL8SUPBAU7qwATfkjZPVBmc_JI08nzy6jg1jIqjmdFBA/s1600/Screenshot-989.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoWxZVqZgi7Sg21TtIyf7ctjDSyrKxdCOPFPFrWgiLQ9zpOZE69KmJV_gdoIN8aI0IMRK4kh3Tn_PnzlZv6ey3dhayDJlpqUwOL8SUPBAU7qwATfkjZPVBmc_JI08nzy6jg1jIqjmdFBA/s640/Screenshot-989.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Then he met Sarah, my stepmother<b>.</b> Sarah married my dad when I was six, he died two years later<b>. </b>He had actually been sick for awhile, but none of us knew because he didn't start to show symptoms of anything until earlier that year<b>. </b>She remarried when I was eleven<b>.</b> Now<b> </b>I could list off so many things I don't like about Sarah, but I will never say she didn't love my father<b>.</b> I will, however, say she didn't love me, but she was the closest thing to a mother I ever had and she was good to me, she just didn't love me<b>. </b>Then again neither did my real mother, she left when I wasn't even a year old<b>. </b>My stepfather, Sarah's husband Lawrence, and I have always had issues not the least of which includes me getting caught stealing<b>.</b> Ironic no? </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1H3qfSv8Kr_Iw4ul0qASaFqmmqH0Ff_9P2ye2gSxEkaJSnTA6o4IezoVIuM8timfnpPa7wIkLwed70lkdOMWg1mh5ClFPvvMs530x4aQLvnQvQmBcybrDB22WAu2z68EbPaYOokzdirQ/s1600/Screenshot-990.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1H3qfSv8Kr_Iw4ul0qASaFqmmqH0Ff_9P2ye2gSxEkaJSnTA6o4IezoVIuM8timfnpPa7wIkLwed70lkdOMWg1mh5ClFPvvMs530x4aQLvnQvQmBcybrDB22WAu2z68EbPaYOokzdirQ/s640/Screenshot-990.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Only reason I ever got caught was because I wanted to, what's the point of doing something for attention if no one knows you're doing it? Surprised? How did you think I got these clothes and the other things I needed? I didn't have money<b>.</b> I do now though<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pMxpftMB2zE-ahSHXsGmHd_BcoTTY_5aw9c8tEBIKpa6wf_rV0wraFd9Qeoj7QiCjAAucbC1iKEK5h6SvKPIIkuxsxyDXFke6BAu7IeRzTVypeLBvH5aecKRlfTkerPlMuShxcmV2Ls/s1600/Screenshot-991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pMxpftMB2zE-ahSHXsGmHd_BcoTTY_5aw9c8tEBIKpa6wf_rV0wraFd9Qeoj7QiCjAAucbC1iKEK5h6SvKPIIkuxsxyDXFke6BAu7IeRzTVypeLBvH5aecKRlfTkerPlMuShxcmV2Ls/s640/Screenshot-991.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I know without looking it's Shawn who comes and stands behind me touching my shoulder<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>If you look far enough you can almost see Valley<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>How did you know I'd be here?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I didn't<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJEG1nPReYS6a3AC_h3_bJUXOYuUVZXrDbj-fib_4ctIGJl-SiK7Q2ug7Jrf_tD2XU9LP6Q8YWYrepkZ9NZu-ndVhJpSaDN3kpJvqiJ-jQvWb80zOj4qKhKrzhfrbGpXDHvljzrqXF-8/s1600/Screenshot-992.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJEG1nPReYS6a3AC_h3_bJUXOYuUVZXrDbj-fib_4ctIGJl-SiK7Q2ug7Jrf_tD2XU9LP6Q8YWYrepkZ9NZu-ndVhJpSaDN3kpJvqiJ-jQvWb80zOj4qKhKrzhfrbGpXDHvljzrqXF-8/s640/Screenshot-992.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I turn and put my arms around his waist<b>.</b></div>
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<i><b>Me</b> </i><i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> Why are you here then<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Same reason as you<b>. </b>Reminds me of the point<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Good old Weston Point<b>.</b> It's weird, but I still think of Weston Valley as home<b>.</b> I suppose I should explain now<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNqTmskBlgJlAT9Irz5wVmsorTM8SaMRunFjN-pQuleojNirwij1IrXFQlPAFQqHkoCw8rfdMt6yUMdBcyVAoMn7hcnvBmRmFvJ1f943Y0T4C_UR87vxgwO1Z2qfKbkLx-6VvpoBWunjI/s1600/Screenshot-993.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNqTmskBlgJlAT9Irz5wVmsorTM8SaMRunFjN-pQuleojNirwij1IrXFQlPAFQqHkoCw8rfdMt6yUMdBcyVAoMn7hcnvBmRmFvJ1f943Y0T4C_UR87vxgwO1Z2qfKbkLx-6VvpoBWunjI/s640/Screenshot-993.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> That can wait<b>.</b></div>
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He slips his arms up around me and I do the same<b>.</b> Our lips touch, pressing together softly while his hand stokes my face and hair<b>.</b> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc6-7FV6ettzsOyrD5iYQav0v7P3Q43ycenI9OQE1RxSiD_wjK8of8-lwrNaaR3kzR-kEic0pxFHKx1asjECNp4wyv3mvfY52GBE54LN13H6xL1WTnlvVlZaE1u72mDYBE7NX5yyNw0E/s1600/Screenshot-994.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrc6-7FV6ettzsOyrD5iYQav0v7P3Q43ycenI9OQE1RxSiD_wjK8of8-lwrNaaR3kzR-kEic0pxFHKx1asjECNp4wyv3mvfY52GBE54LN13H6xL1WTnlvVlZaE1u72mDYBE7NX5yyNw0E/s640/Screenshot-994.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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After breaking the kiss, I open my eyes and smile at him<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu4bnAn4_l79Z4FvRSTjlzJLVyLguAjuoiPrTBxKSDbUunV7g_zLYRkSfLrhGSmYXT69Jrwg5klE3oRo9q6do4pf4-mXqCdLFCvwqoTEuA5KwusVSQ64iNk0XMOZkhatu0Twns32BAbOA/s1600/Screenshot-996.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu4bnAn4_l79Z4FvRSTjlzJLVyLguAjuoiPrTBxKSDbUunV7g_zLYRkSfLrhGSmYXT69Jrwg5klE3oRo9q6do4pf4-mXqCdLFCvwqoTEuA5KwusVSQ64iNk0XMOZkhatu0Twns32BAbOA/s640/Screenshot-996.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Holding my hand he leads me to a bench not far from where we were standing<b>.</b> Sitting down, he slips an arm around me<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-Fa3Kitp0FYu1J8XXY52bvr5DB2zYaDypSLRdvto6XCeIXHw8HJyyfpgfxx-tQwB8gwXwQN4l2EpUaswL_LPSLyqsPzVND3fqADvVqHv6kYtu1_LPkvfqwFbY6jFzh-9O9ZJCUeP8L4/s1600/Screenshot-997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU-Fa3Kitp0FYu1J8XXY52bvr5DB2zYaDypSLRdvto6XCeIXHw8HJyyfpgfxx-tQwB8gwXwQN4l2EpUaswL_LPSLyqsPzVND3fqADvVqHv6kYtu1_LPkvfqwFbY6jFzh-9O9ZJCUeP8L4/s640/Screenshot-997.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Now you can explain<b>.</b></div>
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So I do<b>.</b> I tell him everything<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Oh my<b>.</b> A lot of people think you ran away<b>.</b> I never believed that though<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>If I had planned on running away, you would have known about it... and hopefully I wouldn't have gone alone<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Of course<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Well I couldn't be sure, you actually like your family<b>.</b></div>
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He laughs, God how I missed that sound<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> None of that's important now<b>. </b>I have you back and I'll never let anything happen to you<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ryVu7qom_VnB7GiZ0-0RwGKc_cnzzcjRgJu2tJHcDbGLC-65g0vCilJcLN3m2bnM9OlhotC9vfewJmwmny2LzopsarC3U4-TowKrAXoLQjbZBFBcXmm_SXlzxijg-xjeUqPRg_4msYM/s1600/Screenshot-1000.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ryVu7qom_VnB7GiZ0-0RwGKc_cnzzcjRgJu2tJHcDbGLC-65g0vCilJcLN3m2bnM9OlhotC9vfewJmwmny2LzopsarC3U4-TowKrAXoLQjbZBFBcXmm_SXlzxijg-xjeUqPRg_4msYM/s640/Screenshot-1000.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We pull up to a nice looking apartment building and get out<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Hey man, where's your girl?</div>
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"In our room<b>. </b>Why? What's up?"</div>
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I'm not surprised to recognize the voice of Shawn's best friend, Donny<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>You'll see, just go get her, 'kay?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny - </i>Hey babe, could you come out here a minute?</div>
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I walk up next to Shawn, but they don't seem to notice<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Hey love birds, over here<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny - </i>HOLY SHIT! Hayley?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Hey Donny<b>.</b> Hey Kitty<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> HAYLEY!!!</div>
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I'm nearly knocked back by the embrace<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Hayley Elizabeth Thomas, where the fuck have you been?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>It's a LONG story and since when do you talk to me like that? Hmm Katherine Marie Sharp?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Kitty -</i> Since you disappeared<b>.</b> Long story or not I wanna hear it<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Alright, alright<b>.</b></div>
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So I explain it all again, everything that's happened<b>.</b></div>
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After slipping into my new cami, I lay on Shawn's bed trying to fall asleep when he comes in and softly climbs on next to me<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Are you asleep?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>No<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Is something wrong?<b><i> </i></b></div>
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I turn and look up into his perfect pure blue eyes<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I don't know<b>.</b> I don't ... things aren't the same as they used to be<b>.</b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvr2FamG8EXCwQZkJXHm24Ad-3oiAAIiASnFE_56fQwCYm76aBS_2Bx5-NMt0qq4L1NKP9xuVceoV98Y1Bbiha1Du5WLPrEwTL_AHp1NN8KsueCyqu6auGfjlUNhroG_tMMgIYG4xCVw/s1600/Screenshot-1012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXvr2FamG8EXCwQZkJXHm24Ad-3oiAAIiASnFE_56fQwCYm76aBS_2Bx5-NMt0qq4L1NKP9xuVceoV98Y1Bbiha1Du5WLPrEwTL_AHp1NN8KsueCyqu6auGfjlUNhroG_tMMgIYG4xCVw/s640/Screenshot-1012.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div>
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Shifting to put my arms around him he wraps an arm around my shoulders and cups my face<b>.</b> </div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Of course things won't be exactly as they once were, but why do they have to be? I still love you<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I didn't ask if you still loved me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> I know<b>.</b> Does that mean I'm not allowed to say it?<b> </b></div>
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I pull him closer and we shift so that he pulls me into a kiss<b>. </b>Its soft loving and longing all at once<b>.</b> It makes me yearn for the past<b>.</b> </div>
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I climb up onto him and start to remove his bottoms<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> What are you doing?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Did you really expect to kiss me like that and that would be it? </div>
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I softly kiss his neck<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Me - </i></b>I haven't been with you in six years Shawn<b>.</b></div>
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Pulling back I slowly remove my cami top and then lean in to whisper lustfully into his ear<b>.</b></div>
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<b><i>Me - </i></b> I want you<b>.</b></div>
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Finally after so long apart, I'm back in the arms of the one I loved<b>.</b></div>
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I shower, dress, and re-braid my hair<b>.</b></div>
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It's a little after noon as I head into the main room<b>.</b></div>
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I've said before I love cooking<b>. </b>I've also said I wasn't good at it before<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Donny - </i>You can cook?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yes<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> Hey beautiful<b>.</b> What are you making?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Stir fry<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> My favorite<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I remember<b>.</b></div>
~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-24880677943800722462011-09-28T20:58:00.000-07:002011-09-28T20:58:04.645-07:00Chapter Twelve<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone cannot read this, but if you have an issue with the somewhat adult subject matter remember that you were warned.</b><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b><i><b>ENJOY</b></i><b>.</b></span></span></i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytuHxP_5OLyo-66_ZzRY0Pj3lOGu9kd4juUuQjnUM5chtyvk742dbr19th8CeqsBTu6-AKHw3RVsjnChKUfDxWM1aOTfYtFv35uhi75jDVTr6teR2Zqj0TaLlWU2w8rqasdmRGAi1Bs4/s1600/Screenshot-956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytuHxP_5OLyo-66_ZzRY0Pj3lOGu9kd4juUuQjnUM5chtyvk742dbr19th8CeqsBTu6-AKHw3RVsjnChKUfDxWM1aOTfYtFv35uhi75jDVTr6teR2Zqj0TaLlWU2w8rqasdmRGAi1Bs4/s640/Screenshot-956.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Shawn<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He catches me as I start to lose my balance becoming overwhelmed by the many memories flooding my mind<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMph0LNXEdWGfBDFEK8TcdD4OvFoTOZv8Lnl5i90s4_TkuOGMtkOEbcbfaezf3VmvH6dSEIKH5AbOxj1puDtHQhHUwjkBMrZqA2byvmXsjITE-J4ZTizH6QWsLBkQDNfcSfMrroPzbGY/s1600/Screenshot-969.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRMph0LNXEdWGfBDFEK8TcdD4OvFoTOZv8Lnl5i90s4_TkuOGMtkOEbcbfaezf3VmvH6dSEIKH5AbOxj1puDtHQhHUwjkBMrZqA2byvmXsjITE-J4ZTizH6QWsLBkQDNfcSfMrroPzbGY/s640/Screenshot-969.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Our first kiss<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQt58UVU6kGY5M6BsOKg6vDyd0jOJXSsR1U_ooLa70ZrYfj-fA99wrMIja_sMm6RQ5raXvAxoATv2AZ1Cu6wTUbU9nVPcjmCBSEt5yZJNDUGoZxQ3Zw04XZij8AX-1M5uuYvDSQwV_XUU/s1600/Screenshot-968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQt58UVU6kGY5M6BsOKg6vDyd0jOJXSsR1U_ooLa70ZrYfj-fA99wrMIja_sMm6RQ5raXvAxoATv2AZ1Cu6wTUbU9nVPcjmCBSEt5yZJNDUGoZxQ3Zw04XZij8AX-1M5uuYvDSQwV_XUU/s640/Screenshot-968.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The first time we slept together<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2DU8awzQ3L9KwAlUoOIPpIUhXusErawOiguTlisah4UKdqRRNEvqwcmhAmft_bJUBakUX03CVd1-AkS4Oh9hxCHz_vMbKd0A-loyHT2ntxDhBB3eikqzOPSC0TyOOGCb-mhTU3YIPbU/s1600/Screenshot-965.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM2DU8awzQ3L9KwAlUoOIPpIUhXusErawOiguTlisah4UKdqRRNEvqwcmhAmft_bJUBakUX03CVd1-AkS4Oh9hxCHz_vMbKd0A-loyHT2ntxDhBB3eikqzOPSC0TyOOGCb-mhTU3YIPbU/s640/Screenshot-965.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How we would lay and look at the stars together<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><span id="goog_613809662"></span><span id="goog_613809663"></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0-PcOzIjMAnFcc370nB48PVwlk6EsvLKCh9Are1AA2Skj0XIbGHiIwhCtDrvjutb2KyFLs9H01ulAho3pj4EKFDmMTrqs8MbqV9Bhn8C4K1lHET8wCykIS5J4yP6vHpbo8BToe51dAM/s1600/Screenshot-966.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe0-PcOzIjMAnFcc370nB48PVwlk6EsvLKCh9Are1AA2Skj0XIbGHiIwhCtDrvjutb2KyFLs9H01ulAho3pj4EKFDmMTrqs8MbqV9Bhn8C4K1lHET8wCykIS5J4yP6vHpbo8BToe51dAM/s640/Screenshot-966.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The way I would curl up resting my head on his chest<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYoUAW9psbM7VdZThan_12Am-uVuSVkqurr-4iThHKqbIZz7BVuWZmrbuRYyCdniBRsTi4AMJvXERj9pYiJJ0kKlHau8RcuHceVIII4OgtGKY4qPiEbNPq2elu4S9ydkKziPh7T3s1D8/s1600/Screenshot-958.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQYoUAW9psbM7VdZThan_12Am-uVuSVkqurr-4iThHKqbIZz7BVuWZmrbuRYyCdniBRsTi4AMJvXERj9pYiJJ0kKlHau8RcuHceVIII4OgtGKY4qPiEbNPq2elu4S9ydkKziPh7T3s1D8/s640/Screenshot-958.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Hayley, are you alright?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I'm fine<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn -</i> No you're not<b>.</b> Hayley what's going on? Is this we're you've been all this time? Just a few towns over?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I-I can't explain right now<b>.</b> You should go<b>.<span id="goog_2068850376"></span><span id="goog_2068850377"></span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>No, talk to me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I told you, I can't explain right now<b>.</b> If you'll let me,when I can I will but you <i>need</i> to go <b>now.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He just looks at me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskYzDyOH7mBarg9SHZeJjNYeG8rOKzuZvwbezD3cac8R22qEGKK-CHS1hBcIE6EdPdSxd239377QcRj65PxGDjXoFDWcHNfWYPURQ-PZaucQ85qt3cBAAvOMudmFm4aUD6OP3t7Vd2KY/s1600/Screenshot-959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgskYzDyOH7mBarg9SHZeJjNYeG8rOKzuZvwbezD3cac8R22qEGKK-CHS1hBcIE6EdPdSxd239377QcRj65PxGDjXoFDWcHNfWYPURQ-PZaucQ85qt3cBAAvOMudmFm4aUD6OP3t7Vd2KY/s640/Screenshot-959.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Shawn - </i>Hayley...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I look around quickly to be sure we are alone<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Shawn...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Without thinking I quickly kiss him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Please love<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I watch him leave before heading back downstairs trying to make myself not think about him and the feel of his touch, still so familiar even after so long<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwQVaNuXeuCHXw0bmFXSk7ebuSf4Fpq6rSDv4NaYVtl7NVyqzOyEe-aUPrloVmejxm189ImVSQjpxq5a4exUgg0-8H01tYKg9jsl6R_Yv7I40jo1tIyQ2MvQKitt0lFVY_7KL1xRXTBE/s1600/Screenshot-971.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbwQVaNuXeuCHXw0bmFXSk7ebuSf4Fpq6rSDv4NaYVtl7NVyqzOyEe-aUPrloVmejxm189ImVSQjpxq5a4exUgg0-8H01tYKg9jsl6R_Yv7I40jo1tIyQ2MvQKitt0lFVY_7KL1xRXTBE/s640/Screenshot-971.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> There you are<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JTmgfACWf4udLvTyHR6oFChAptZ1nMxQ5Vywi7lrOlyUiBf7LYsfNXJ6RmFJtCE6xD-0wYlPHBqVH48zwKbnQkWiaanM-MtLd9nwEfXKmbdQ2KLL8DFIb-JSzgYdnJPazkrEJJsEB_Q/s1600/Screenshot-972.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6JTmgfACWf4udLvTyHR6oFChAptZ1nMxQ5Vywi7lrOlyUiBf7LYsfNXJ6RmFJtCE6xD-0wYlPHBqVH48zwKbnQkWiaanM-MtLd9nwEfXKmbdQ2KLL8DFIb-JSzgYdnJPazkrEJJsEB_Q/s640/Screenshot-972.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Now, where were we?</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeEXFngshFl9Cl8T6xeZJHGreiLbXZ26HKYTrvpP3SwFybJWo4cmOiTvnqx4W1FS7-lrWhuoKqyNebhS6W-Y-yLAu4riqcVwzrM5Y6gp4jVvSDpyysroOyOoiDaWzcdTQy4emXWa2QMI/s1600/Screenshot-977.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijeEXFngshFl9Cl8T6xeZJHGreiLbXZ26HKYTrvpP3SwFybJWo4cmOiTvnqx4W1FS7-lrWhuoKqyNebhS6W-Y-yLAu4riqcVwzrM5Y6gp4jVvSDpyysroOyOoiDaWzcdTQy4emXWa2QMI/s640/Screenshot-977.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">I reach the bed before he does, undress and wait for him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPL_iNu_nm6uS4DvV86yaYeIyZayRQ_oP8OGlMz4o9L30xFg4UwDpHUd6nWxRYl3CcZJvuxwXTONdv5mPLF0wPLDJUJMkEse4aKJNnwhUVKtYBWwxtFqOnBODfMdZnEWcU2A9h81DC6Zk/s1600/Screenshot-976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPL_iNu_nm6uS4DvV86yaYeIyZayRQ_oP8OGlMz4o9L30xFg4UwDpHUd6nWxRYl3CcZJvuxwXTONdv5mPLF0wPLDJUJMkEse4aKJNnwhUVKtYBWwxtFqOnBODfMdZnEWcU2A9h81DC6Zk/s640/Screenshot-976.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I want to talk to you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You want to <i>talk</i>? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBltl4SwcV3X73shx7wSKe-WukcDCXOvICYpgLzJnsLGP2VvN5JrkZOcmhHLiQVjw17UF0K-NYJIEkH8fLzzCZ36zROD9QVbiOhM7qtoR1U3sfDDBX_dOvvgUMdSj0iSvp0Xcqyy_E2LY/s1600/Screenshot-978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBltl4SwcV3X73shx7wSKe-WukcDCXOvICYpgLzJnsLGP2VvN5JrkZOcmhHLiQVjw17UF0K-NYJIEkH8fLzzCZ36zROD9QVbiOhM7qtoR1U3sfDDBX_dOvvgUMdSj0iSvp0Xcqyy_E2LY/s640/Screenshot-978.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Because I can think of some other things we could be doing<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>As can I, my beauty, but first<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He runs his hand upward along my body making me quiver<b> </b>and then to my surprise as he reaches my neck he touches my slave collar and fingers release<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner -</b> There<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Casting the collar aside he kisses my newly exposed neck<b>. </b>I moan before regaining sense enough to speak<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b>Me -</b></i> My collar, what are you doing?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip88ryj9zjHiIX9iT7dqXhHQNSAfeeotTWTFh8j-YN-3P2v1XyhOTR7C86FW27JiAumig26ZAMK563v2DrKL6RTc34Uq1Ui2E54XoTIX5vRTAH8br1ytaxSVAGGJRNQPvG3UjCzR_TSoo/s1600/Screenshot-980.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip88ryj9zjHiIX9iT7dqXhHQNSAfeeotTWTFh8j-YN-3P2v1XyhOTR7C86FW27JiAumig26ZAMK563v2DrKL6RTc34Uq1Ui2E54XoTIX5vRTAH8br1ytaxSVAGGJRNQPvG3UjCzR_TSoo/s640/Screenshot-980.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>What you've wanted<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">O_O I had suspected, but now I'm sure<b>.</b> I can hear my voice shake and pull away nervously<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Y-you know?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I don't care though<b>.</b> Even knowing your intentions, how could I not fall for such an amazing young woman?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVRT2AgCGihpou5rjEDHCUSybcgrqQYg9TzyDMYbApax9E9WoUpgJ_ufhjoX0aJfkAlWR1_2EVknpGj0A-wcV5N3viArL844ozK0jMQEM5LBrzsT9WPvIfANSDAJ70emLneITFZXj9VI/s1600/Screenshot-982.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghVRT2AgCGihpou5rjEDHCUSybcgrqQYg9TzyDMYbApax9E9WoUpgJ_ufhjoX0aJfkAlWR1_2EVknpGj0A-wcV5N3viArL844ozK0jMQEM5LBrzsT9WPvIfANSDAJ70emLneITFZXj9VI/s640/Screenshot-982.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sliding of the bed, I slip back into my dress<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> How long?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>How long?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me - How long have you known?</i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He doesn't say, he doesn't have to<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>That doesn't matter now<b>. </b>What matters is how I feel<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS0dQfBCRc3nthJiUC2dW9mNqqp5HkQS1UH0_wONLtGc2ubnpySJXw5PssNv9RRslG_Pggr_T63D-FKYjihRYD732P67lhjsT5QUJaRykGbWDv0NaYzKCJsUmB6S3MyYF4b4lq8t0Mh9Y/s1600/Screenshot-984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS0dQfBCRc3nthJiUC2dW9mNqqp5HkQS1UH0_wONLtGc2ubnpySJXw5PssNv9RRslG_Pggr_T63D-FKYjihRYD732P67lhjsT5QUJaRykGbWDv0NaYzKCJsUmB6S3MyYF4b4lq8t0Mh9Y/s640/Screenshot-984.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You've known all along<b>. </b>You played along<b>. </b>Why? Just so you could sleep with me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Would you rather I had punished you for attempting to trick me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>So you admit it then?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He looks away for a moment before looking back<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner - </b>Yes<b>. </b>At first that's why I allowed it, but as I said that no longer matters<b>.</b> It doesn't change how I feel now or that you've still gotten what you wanted<b>. </b>I love you, I can't keep you here against your will<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5nNU4cCp3VrFCcEEvNiiuUFCJ35_wLon7LDTaqtb6wF1jSCkqHpAdgdb_h55jpX7v_l_aQlBzu6EYYdWNr4fZjrkj-VXBbYxFnAVzt_ZPcwajVpw90to-RXs7oLuJR68DaMMvrruz2g/s1600/Screenshot-985.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK5nNU4cCp3VrFCcEEvNiiuUFCJ35_wLon7LDTaqtb6wF1jSCkqHpAdgdb_h55jpX7v_l_aQlBzu6EYYdWNr4fZjrkj-VXBbYxFnAVzt_ZPcwajVpw90to-RXs7oLuJR68DaMMvrruz2g/s640/Screenshot-985.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>You can leave if you truly wish, but I would like you to stay<b>.</b> Hayley say you'll stay with me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkhp-W8hjd-x9JYKl2ff9s4Uqd8PqDBNvneSgKk9QhMe2fQFH7fTFjw9XNfGytXGurd8ZcrW8RLUclS2bd28Raanuc4tm45jC2ejbhyphenhyphenvVxoCGQFvvF6G1oS1yTcmV-9VKxqvaNmeA7b0/s1600/Screenshot-987.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVkhp-W8hjd-x9JYKl2ff9s4Uqd8PqDBNvneSgKk9QhMe2fQFH7fTFjw9XNfGytXGurd8ZcrW8RLUclS2bd28Raanuc4tm45jC2ejbhyphenhyphenvVxoCGQFvvF6G1oS1yTcmV-9VKxqvaNmeA7b0/s640/Screenshot-987.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-57686891256004216782011-09-26T11:48:00.000-07:002011-09-26T17:38:52.017-07:00Chapter Eleven<div style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpBW57gXY0F2HsijNteixCg6MgHaLqzb2uYiJ-jkMi8w5Zb_M0v8vVhNQjrgT4Fsg1e3ipbXF8NaUX_Plf3aJ9y9RmtWHwBY7h2fBoL7YrA-CGjzvE34H5SFieGlFfNrH2TqB5dmtcBo/s1600/Screenshot-912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZpBW57gXY0F2HsijNteixCg6MgHaLqzb2uYiJ-jkMi8w5Zb_M0v8vVhNQjrgT4Fsg1e3ipbXF8NaUX_Plf3aJ9y9RmtWHwBY7h2fBoL7YrA-CGjzvE34H5SFieGlFfNrH2TqB5dmtcBo/s640/Screenshot-912.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLln_igR06GBBfhNUu2XOU3XrMQCv0hv0LTnoGbHEqDun-t5KJ7W_2DFA8k87zBnwlX8dfHpMd9J6M2V-nQHDe6QqV_MhHl6lyKZPdi4g_2CfVX6sOrBuy-T387zGWjTCu6kZeGB9NsA/s1600/Screenshot-913.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtLln_igR06GBBfhNUu2XOU3XrMQCv0hv0LTnoGbHEqDun-t5KJ7W_2DFA8k87zBnwlX8dfHpMd9J6M2V-nQHDe6QqV_MhHl6lyKZPdi4g_2CfVX6sOrBuy-T387zGWjTCu6kZeGB9NsA/s640/Screenshot-913.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's the day of Grant and Rylie's wedding and her, Layla, and I change upstairs<b>. </b>They used to be good friend, Layla and Rylie, that's how Layla met Ian, but even then they're friendship was starting to fall apart and the events since hadn't helped, but now they're trying<b>.</b> Rylie lent me a pair of shoes to go with my dress and has me put my hair up<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cLN_KZgH72uqJVyZ4nzKtyrWohSOq7Htde5rxH9kWOdfzRuBOdfIR7hkCKo73ZEICbW6Ho9xiPtAlC74YBHCjwJ74wkLmcyPKfSKIXK7oj708VgRNvrO_iNqII7LS1QV-Pn02WGMopo/s1600/Screenshot-917.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5cLN_KZgH72uqJVyZ4nzKtyrWohSOq7Htde5rxH9kWOdfzRuBOdfIR7hkCKo73ZEICbW6Ho9xiPtAlC74YBHCjwJ74wkLmcyPKfSKIXK7oj708VgRNvrO_iNqII7LS1QV-Pn02WGMopo/s640/Screenshot-917.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>You look stunning<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUkwIT-GQd-8iaNaBbiMOBT1WQbhZhBNs54W2jLrD78AMepGuSr3xuCiYFVEdLoKKu8M8xgNUrm115kRTbfndJV5reRFUnPNW_HjTBIgmiaxz1kDFnOisR0VT_r1avZV9MGin-3hEy0w/s1600/Screenshot-918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEUkwIT-GQd-8iaNaBbiMOBT1WQbhZhBNs54W2jLrD78AMepGuSr3xuCiYFVEdLoKKu8M8xgNUrm115kRTbfndJV5reRFUnPNW_HjTBIgmiaxz1kDFnOisR0VT_r1avZV9MGin-3hEy0w/s640/Screenshot-918.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Yeah, totally amazing<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>Uh huh, Grant's one lucky man<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmA7sKABoKqgD3Laf9S0UiP5SJ-7yfBJFtlzyaRdlSMmEPA847yhobkCumNU1vOt5K15SktfYghdVyexn4T0cYPg2lhPLbSFXJDWPbMXJ3TFSm1bOPghXHbvTWjQ9nYLPeW7xSPiqqww/s1600/Screenshot-916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcmA7sKABoKqgD3Laf9S0UiP5SJ-7yfBJFtlzyaRdlSMmEPA847yhobkCumNU1vOt5K15SktfYghdVyexn4T0cYPg2lhPLbSFXJDWPbMXJ3TFSm1bOPghXHbvTWjQ9nYLPeW7xSPiqqww/s640/Screenshot-916.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>You ready to be Rylie Anderson?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie -</i> Yes<b>. </b>Oh god, I love the sound of that<b>.</b> It sounds.. right<b>.</b> Ya know?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Yea I know<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I do too<b>. </b>When I was with Shawn, I remember thinking the same of the name Hayley Berk, though for me it was a fantasy of "maybe someday<b>.</b>"</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0hF0Bh3zSTOeko1Lz6RnhMupLNcC0dUDFCLo5NkK5uRRDEA6GEh61fxMZm8WpnznQfozvJDKcEwz4BmFi48wX_xyqT8mQEoDeVpJ-cwRCwGZ96yTBvcq9s5RzlVQa7dMNayI7Vd4oDD8/s1600/Screenshot-920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0hF0Bh3zSTOeko1Lz6RnhMupLNcC0dUDFCLo5NkK5uRRDEA6GEh61fxMZm8WpnznQfozvJDKcEwz4BmFi48wX_xyqT8mQEoDeVpJ-cwRCwGZ96yTBvcq9s5RzlVQa7dMNayI7Vd4oDD8/s640/Screenshot-920.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We head to the stairs and Layla goes down<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTL2VK4DpaHY6qjJtugGdJPw-zgKPN3f6ygZn2EcJJP5SK78bbu0bni1Lrj1AdFYktWyuGo11amtSdAw5NRz_xzrKL2sOTA-ctE2A0xu8j1t36jTQfM7G-GcH9dtWovyThpHDYSfQfl7Y/s1600/Screenshot-921.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTL2VK4DpaHY6qjJtugGdJPw-zgKPN3f6ygZn2EcJJP5SK78bbu0bni1Lrj1AdFYktWyuGo11amtSdAw5NRz_xzrKL2sOTA-ctE2A0xu8j1t36jTQfM7G-GcH9dtWovyThpHDYSfQfl7Y/s640/Screenshot-921.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I listen and wait to reach the bottom, then follow<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrstvc9ZezEqQyr7r1NXVaqUCKebUCf6sWrh8qkRhTzVJvm8HSRkApaxzqq77UwfDYqtW2BsNwQOjMId81adDAdOPzBp0Xcnyde7BaaL42Cjlo-LMsSrtjdDaD1NTDK8dbseJYwbNu2o/s1600/Screenshot-925.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbrstvc9ZezEqQyr7r1NXVaqUCKebUCf6sWrh8qkRhTzVJvm8HSRkApaxzqq77UwfDYqtW2BsNwQOjMId81adDAdOPzBp0Xcnyde7BaaL42Cjlo-LMsSrtjdDaD1NTDK8dbseJYwbNu2o/s640/Screenshot-925.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We all turn as Rylie ascends down the steps<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffTf_7XxguWxBHo5focXGjcx6l1OIjum8N2XiJix9RJDmnQYXka9x4O_zQXL3il_LGNCD-ACNx5Z5oCIRm1XPvoq2U9xfLTh8ErmzNGDZu42PEs4O4PplkrhtHON112vxvTOeMX5mIaY/s1600/Screenshot-926.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffTf_7XxguWxBHo5focXGjcx6l1OIjum8N2XiJix9RJDmnQYXka9x4O_zQXL3il_LGNCD-ACNx5Z5oCIRm1XPvoq2U9xfLTh8ErmzNGDZu42PEs4O4PplkrhtHON112vxvTOeMX5mIaY/s640/Screenshot-926.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grant brushed his hair so that it would go straight down<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZonXnpfmM9fnsn5EicFm_9UnH_Zso7pAuPLKzZPZhYM85TjE70b6q6tgAtfhBHmisGVIVggZc-JkAyFKs6vbfElVTZjKJXCSbVkmVwWiSMswvcOjseoJYQFk1erQ4Lqpz9aLguoMSQC4/s1600/Screenshot-928.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZonXnpfmM9fnsn5EicFm_9UnH_Zso7pAuPLKzZPZhYM85TjE70b6q6tgAtfhBHmisGVIVggZc-JkAyFKs6vbfElVTZjKJXCSbVkmVwWiSMswvcOjseoJYQFk1erQ4Lqpz9aLguoMSQC4/s640/Screenshot-928.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He holds the ring up before slipping it onto her finger<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKx3FIYTBeTovgcZ1unnM3H40a99QR1W1bHYcb21YYdXZEK4UEwVr110v6iYaLp1JTfzFd8HvukQ1XHZOW-Zdos_DlSJ1GCN_zf1_eT9ruhjoVZdd_DcTD_owZjdV9wirJYGCqHDmIvU/s1600/Screenshot-929.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOKx3FIYTBeTovgcZ1unnM3H40a99QR1W1bHYcb21YYdXZEK4UEwVr110v6iYaLp1JTfzFd8HvukQ1XHZOW-Zdos_DlSJ1GCN_zf1_eT9ruhjoVZdd_DcTD_owZjdV9wirJYGCqHDmIvU/s640/Screenshot-929.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She does the same<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpDgx0e0yp8MoOf3hNeSjfpl87bt-IOqCnlP6r_vF3jMXCw8ORlio_vd4-pRj0FohbYhrcrxes_fAomGnM5bNCm8CE4T5nOt5fiuwAotwh-WS10DDFLi0o9yq3RUiRk_tcK8xgFUQIRU/s1600/Screenshot-930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpDgx0e0yp8MoOf3hNeSjfpl87bt-IOqCnlP6r_vF3jMXCw8ORlio_vd4-pRj0FohbYhrcrxes_fAomGnM5bNCm8CE4T5nOt5fiuwAotwh-WS10DDFLi0o9yq3RUiRk_tcK8xgFUQIRU/s640/Screenshot-930.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They clasp hands staring into each other's eyes<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH0_PNGWVod0nYLybOMgHqv5Zp5U8bVSG-cQKmQVX144JpQ57PVbYa5FUs6rQa2mUlN9GVpuEbS8qL58nLD0Xx0_HOjam1iS1h3xBk2DiPfGPvrqbAedPGcP3TR5_Ctn6iSvlctcOXag/s1600/Screenshot-932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfH0_PNGWVod0nYLybOMgHqv5Zp5U8bVSG-cQKmQVX144JpQ57PVbYa5FUs6rQa2mUlN9GVpuEbS8qL58nLD0Xx0_HOjam1iS1h3xBk2DiPfGPvrqbAedPGcP3TR5_Ctn6iSvlctcOXag/s640/Screenshot-932.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The kiss is both sweet and passionate<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj_oMF3qcvkFnr5AiccFPuB_Tspk0IITR9KfRdrJPmURw_wAXbMWeODf7AfFKU_w_dKoV6NA8F8ptKJXi5WHhxmkiZd74W0i4OyeSTNPonW6AfLSfoudVFUw0ddduIuJZ0QJ1wO_NzGY/s1600/Screenshot-934.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHj_oMF3qcvkFnr5AiccFPuB_Tspk0IITR9KfRdrJPmURw_wAXbMWeODf7AfFKU_w_dKoV6NA8F8ptKJXi5WHhxmkiZd74W0i4OyeSTNPonW6AfLSfoudVFUw0ddduIuJZ0QJ1wO_NzGY/s640/Screenshot-934.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grant cuts the cake with Rylie standing close behind her new husband<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq9mSKHlrkT7xtbYyUuOm6nNOBmDy8CphfhaqlbbCO_xrCe7OapJEnyYf866Uj34q-P9COOqZD-5_p1Gv36BVKQGkOG1B8GUvnFdwSUG8Mhzeb4VrisGN6f5ZlYM2PcFugbfhXs4gVRY/s1600/Screenshot-935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIq9mSKHlrkT7xtbYyUuOm6nNOBmDy8CphfhaqlbbCO_xrCe7OapJEnyYf866Uj34q-P9COOqZD-5_p1Gv36BVKQGkOG1B8GUvnFdwSUG8Mhzeb4VrisGN6f5ZlYM2PcFugbfhXs4gVRY/s640/Screenshot-935.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As we eat I can't help but think how different Layla looks with her hair down<b>.</b> I never realized it was that long and she's alot younger then I thought for some reason<b>. </b>She's nineteen, three years younger than Rylie, four younger than me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72c3AvKo0dkHD2QJJNYm-3-IkepjbTBzSy6NkgBSZURsBZOelIx90ceTRg8eCoxFM0KE2K9tUcU6hCD1xB34cAPgFs_zQzEMW-DL_N9CCgnVbsBgmX9iM7kbXtGZICeWKRNGk0lhwbPs/s1600/Screenshot-938.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72c3AvKo0dkHD2QJJNYm-3-IkepjbTBzSy6NkgBSZURsBZOelIx90ceTRg8eCoxFM0KE2K9tUcU6hCD1xB34cAPgFs_zQzEMW-DL_N9CCgnVbsBgmX9iM7kbXtGZICeWKRNGk0lhwbPs/s640/Screenshot-938.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With everyone, but Ian and Eathon now knowing, there no longer seems to be any point in keeping my relationship with Turner secret<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8d_h87krOiuvSPivIN6YMN5AYq68H7mMXXl9amoPh4vZ-gq8xNJfeHDAFLMwzyE-0D559a7eE8uEZAvRsAjov_8YT8o9Rfy90Z5DPtmTgoRk0s2L14wiyfjC-6AAhOEJEeWzDr6JpDo/s1600/Screenshot-944.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk8d_h87krOiuvSPivIN6YMN5AYq68H7mMXXl9amoPh4vZ-gq8xNJfeHDAFLMwzyE-0D559a7eE8uEZAvRsAjov_8YT8o9Rfy90Z5DPtmTgoRk0s2L14wiyfjC-6AAhOEJEeWzDr6JpDo/s640/Screenshot-944.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I place my arms on Turners waist as he cups my face in both hands<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I don't believe I've ever seen your hair up before<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Well what do you think of it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ACC3HhsZdup_MoIaR57JZAZf4YCUmukuOv7iBpDIAsKaXTChEvLKa2OUlxZM2rk4jhQZJ_bJ1EWsPnYIFmqTytttnW1HmNTkksV_ijWQ5538Ifj2XI5TZ9A5RiEGBjWQfzChmtOn8bA/s1600/Screenshot-941.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_ACC3HhsZdup_MoIaR57JZAZf4YCUmukuOv7iBpDIAsKaXTChEvLKa2OUlxZM2rk4jhQZJ_bJ1EWsPnYIFmqTytttnW1HmNTkksV_ijWQ5538Ifj2XI5TZ9A5RiEGBjWQfzChmtOn8bA/s640/Screenshot-941.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Beautiful, breathtaking<b>.</b><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaJkqnZDZi4Psl7fnUw7C6YUfSZZX11jJB6yllMkc7pSXxBqMAnZhjGwZyER2DfoHYyWrC28dRhhyt75dQwregXHxS5PBsxvOpvBj4z5y6uLZDGIiGAhOPQZUoTl9pxcFZ-_xM0G3V2fs/s640/Screenshot-942.jpg" width="640" /></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He pulls me in for a kiss and I respond in kind, wrapping my arms around him and opening my mouth to his tongue without hesitation<b>.</b> Pulling back to catch my breath I'm about to suggest we head to his room when we hear the doorbell go off<b>, </b>which of course <i>I</i> have to get<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>Oh come on<b>.</b> I'll be right back<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I run a hand along his shoulder and down his arm my voice and touch suggestive as I pull away<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL257ZnX46mPIHGMuGzLDE4R_A3m4IkGXY5FwQ7LFSfTV6VE11fq4nzovTWFAXbowTv3QwyWfByz58-vRZfCwmp74pEYbcNJIhc6JOAWwtpt7h480m8vts5JjFGr5LdyyOTjg_JF1jao0/s1600/Screenshot-955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL257ZnX46mPIHGMuGzLDE4R_A3m4IkGXY5FwQ7LFSfTV6VE11fq4nzovTWFAXbowTv3QwyWfByz58-vRZfCwmp74pEYbcNJIhc6JOAWwtpt7h480m8vts5JjFGr5LdyyOTjg_JF1jao0/s640/Screenshot-955.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Though its been so long and he's looking away as I pull open the door I would know him anywhere<b>.</b> He's tan, blonde hair, perfect blue eyes with a cute line of freckles going across his nose<b>.</b> He looks at his hands while talking, a habit of his, and tells me that he just moved to town with a couple friends of his and wanted to great the neighbors<b>. </b>I can't help myself and let out a laugh<b>.</b> My giggle gets his attention<b>. </b>He looks up and I can see it in his face, he recognizes me as instantly as I did him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhm83X9ynmQC15T3UDiTsb6qrW3-j0o2OiKUS6a8LPfkfKJ_PyjHrl2Meaeo-GC06X36CsOk542E7_m1TwfJ9jUZy5WaFFXwENnhP6a2aL2-x9Njcn-mItrmJeuBvnq7PfNnAfqs6vf4/s1600/Screenshot-956.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvhm83X9ynmQC15T3UDiTsb6qrW3-j0o2OiKUS6a8LPfkfKJ_PyjHrl2Meaeo-GC06X36CsOk542E7_m1TwfJ9jUZy5WaFFXwENnhP6a2aL2-x9Njcn-mItrmJeuBvnq7PfNnAfqs6vf4/s640/Screenshot-956.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Him -</i> Hayley?</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Shawn<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-32131235761516857142011-09-23T08:54:00.000-07:002011-09-23T16:25:56.407-07:00Chapter Ten<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this, but if you have an issue with the somewhat adult subject matter remember that you where warned.<i> ENJOY.</i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>(Turner's P.O.V.) </i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>(Yes, you read that right :p)</i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuuJBoD1VKJbIDhtOIqmEDGJrxxjMats5c40t-WRKc74YxBhQyVGed6BcS3RVU9N04mRoMSOtfZ6Mf-jqEEBt0xOpkfcvUJpEDdLRvitWZX2HB0ETfMX2BWzw2XZX4v8M5lgS9DjjDj4/s1600/Screenshot-896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWuuJBoD1VKJbIDhtOIqmEDGJrxxjMats5c40t-WRKc74YxBhQyVGed6BcS3RVU9N04mRoMSOtfZ6Mf-jqEEBt0xOpkfcvUJpEDdLRvitWZX2HB0ETfMX2BWzw2XZX4v8M5lgS9DjjDj4/s640/Screenshot-896.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><b> </b>God I could just kill him<b>.</b> I've never liked Adam, none of us do<b>. </b>He has been tolerated until now, but this can not go unpunished<b>.</b></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Adam<b>.</b> Come into my room, I need to speak with you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Grant throws a glare at Adam<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Grant -</i> What did you do?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">With the exception of Grant, who is one of few people I would consider a friend, it is a known fact among my men that I never call one of them into my quarters, unless it is disciplinary<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbkIS5Pnh7-YMOnxYY_tKKUp0FLrcGb76A56QJYWDuWC7d6v9jtkmo9Hw4y6GGdMApJhz69Q2WP0fgmOvljsHm_xBQjdIbErqZ5-OXzo6hcnt4l1o0lQSiXAsAUF_xdXSrSDKsB5mXMc/s1600/Screenshot-897.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVbkIS5Pnh7-YMOnxYY_tKKUp0FLrcGb76A56QJYWDuWC7d6v9jtkmo9Hw4y6GGdMApJhz69Q2WP0fgmOvljsHm_xBQjdIbErqZ5-OXzo6hcnt4l1o0lQSiXAsAUF_xdXSrSDKsB5mXMc/s640/Screenshot-897.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Though I kept a calm tone while in the main room, the moment the door closes I allow my temper to take control as I slam him against the wall<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Tell me right now why I shouldn't kill you for this<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Because no matter what you think of me as a person I'm a damn good thief, and you don't want to have to <i><b>try</b></i> replace me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's right, but that doesn't help his case any, it only serves to anger my further.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>True enough<b>.</b> Though I've told you in the past that I wouldn't tolerate such behavior<b>.</b> I'll let you live this time, but you even <b>think</b> of touching Hayley again and you're as good as dead<b>. </b>Am I understood?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Hayley? I don't believe this<b>.</b> You actually care for that little vixen, don't you? I thought you were smarter than this<b>. </b>Don't you see what shes doing? Do you think <i>she </i>cares? How can you not know, don't you see it? She's playing you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I snap<b>. </b>Yes, I know<b>. </b>I don't care<b>. </b>I<b> </b>slam the heel of hand square between his eyes<b>.</b> The area around the eyes darkens instantly, though it will take a while for the blood to flow from his nose<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUajF1luq7Ck8JV1tuJbXoHKtdm6zX_N5abimG3GWKBLk81zHHUwCXvfxpCIglxpXrtXWWqKPQWJI0cIeAC4tfFn2MO13xWsTQBDEmF_uDkPOwMytTfuEDjzYvaXqnnx4EfFOlFlK0uY/s1600/Screenshot-898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUajF1luq7Ck8JV1tuJbXoHKtdm6zX_N5abimG3GWKBLk81zHHUwCXvfxpCIglxpXrtXWWqKPQWJI0cIeAC4tfFn2MO13xWsTQBDEmF_uDkPOwMytTfuEDjzYvaXqnnx4EfFOlFlK0uY/s640/Screenshot-898.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He screams with the pain covering his face with both hands once I no longer pin his arms and shoulders to the wall<b>. </b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>And I've told Ian of your little "arrangement" with Layla, which is now over as well unless want me to call you in here again<b>. </b>Now out of my sight<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs-VrZl09CFIR6p_yT3CxnUe3pU1RFDXuSkHeBQRxZKN7UgoxY0wvsvJZOEVA9wmdlzwi6_Kh9GDtLweNSnaTHSr1EB_A0K40wuHWL7YUglAiCwMMCDh3wiq894Cg6LLl0zH-mr_sgf0/s1600/Screenshot-874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVs-VrZl09CFIR6p_yT3CxnUe3pU1RFDXuSkHeBQRxZKN7UgoxY0wvsvJZOEVA9wmdlzwi6_Kh9GDtLweNSnaTHSr1EB_A0K40wuHWL7YUglAiCwMMCDh3wiq894Cg6LLl0zH-mr_sgf0/s640/Screenshot-874.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I find her on her knees, crying again<b>. </b>I know I shouldn't have left her alone, but he needed to be dealt with<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUc1ijUHk-MSu4zh02xCdOG6Ve6-_Tmn9FcmXnfV1PL2O7BEPV9oNe53sy-Yf6zHbzwFePZcBXB7xhDEeReWFz6JVN3878KQES223nDS7HuGG5r2fmXCLKK8PH9irTiFswrwokufNF6w/s1600/Screenshot-875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuUc1ijUHk-MSu4zh02xCdOG6Ve6-_Tmn9FcmXnfV1PL2O7BEPV9oNe53sy-Yf6zHbzwFePZcBXB7xhDEeReWFz6JVN3878KQES223nDS7HuGG5r2fmXCLKK8PH9irTiFswrwokufNF6w/s640/Screenshot-875.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I go to her, turning off the water, and bring her to her feet pulling her into my arms<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOG46Z9glgQNsgqTbtCu24m40O3H3DSwYURql7SltE6yrP-TwokpRlT9GkBg459Me-kh7D0hxL9ZXZUXrSOQm9uXFwDMwiAQQwFq8JOWs1Ob-Uj55w7NeCgQvFGxVt9hs7kREt4Ab4j0/s1600/Screenshot-876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfOG46Z9glgQNsgqTbtCu24m40O3H3DSwYURql7SltE6yrP-TwokpRlT9GkBg459Me-kh7D0hxL9ZXZUXrSOQm9uXFwDMwiAQQwFq8JOWs1Ob-Uj55w7NeCgQvFGxVt9hs7kREt4Ab4j0/s640/Screenshot-876.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">How did this happen? Of course I know of her plans<b>.</b> I swore to myself I wouldn't fall for it, for her, but I have<b>. </b>I carry her, holding her gently<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguZlc_lEF6Eq9S_C6T5bjL1i7HQMJnOLWW307HRMDjFgkOkW4fcnkShYLhp_jcJr1TKJlw8TwzOpKjl34Gbvcn5ZEmwptJJM6mfMDamLE-891TmYAvowzeauykgL6og32CeVtS2VlRejE/s1600/Screenshot-877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguZlc_lEF6Eq9S_C6T5bjL1i7HQMJnOLWW307HRMDjFgkOkW4fcnkShYLhp_jcJr1TKJlw8TwzOpKjl34Gbvcn5ZEmwptJJM6mfMDamLE-891TmYAvowzeauykgL6og32CeVtS2VlRejE/s640/Screenshot-877.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I'll get you're clothes when they're ready<b>.</b> I'm sure you won't want to go back in there so soon<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I force myself not to laugh at the surprised look she gives me as I set her down on the bed, as it is I smile<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley -</i> I would almost think you understand<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkOeAiYdUu-WnSIudarXdJrkCeO24GJlofH2f3THClc0ZuQEjDw67kASOSqdFZ-EYMUWyD4xKAzw7YghRzmIg7nxha7ZrN_1Redxo4KMu3wsi9i33rJJUD4EAMUar5MNsASStT0IJZxs/s1600/Screenshot-899.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTkOeAiYdUu-WnSIudarXdJrkCeO24GJlofH2f3THClc0ZuQEjDw67kASOSqdFZ-EYMUWyD4xKAzw7YghRzmIg7nxha7ZrN_1Redxo4KMu3wsi9i33rJJUD4EAMUar5MNsASStT0IJZxs/s640/Screenshot-899.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b>Turner -</b> </i>Perhaps I do<b>. </b>Do you remember me<b> </b>mentioning Lisa?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley - </i>No<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTMwhvbrVAPy4CBha7Jni6HlVJcxkIHT8ZB1QEZ0_DZPvZwR7hJr9PWaG2-WlAulaGJ07MbNhkUPCTiN_AWZHWb7msYP7BYJnxrNEHvTQpB6qMJFFYEUxTb7v1MVq9kPN4gh-Dpy0q40/s1600/Screenshot-886.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWTMwhvbrVAPy4CBha7Jni6HlVJcxkIHT8ZB1QEZ0_DZPvZwR7hJr9PWaG2-WlAulaGJ07MbNhkUPCTiN_AWZHWb7msYP7BYJnxrNEHvTQpB6qMJFFYEUxTb7v1MVq9kPN4gh-Dpy0q40/s640/Screenshot-886.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>One night she was walking home alone and it had gotten dark<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEKsl8aFpFEAVkJwEvE490OGtFBbvxnqUNf7aFA8Q6WJwIN1KL13H6zfOFZ4JsFZ1eK84Is-NM1BEP2QDGwBPW38C1taFItfbsLYr9ZKb_ud-jeFOLutoKfYXyMlEMgDmi6fC6Op60yg/s1600/Screenshot-887.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaEKsl8aFpFEAVkJwEvE490OGtFBbvxnqUNf7aFA8Q6WJwIN1KL13H6zfOFZ4JsFZ1eK84Is-NM1BEP2QDGwBPW38C1taFItfbsLYr9ZKb_ud-jeFOLutoKfYXyMlEMgDmi6fC6Op60yg/s640/Screenshot-887.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>She didn't see the two men following her<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqgoDpLYjYcqCX00PtAnSDJdhz-VVIHyE3njnMa2ak-E0qtDrHtgmtzNJCGv0Z9coHmwZstKclbQ-Nb-OYVOP9JNxp9_1Ih79uM9SwQL1eHz7VwCVuDOwQ_JjkbWbKsgvEheEyso4pzA/s1600/Screenshot-888.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBqgoDpLYjYcqCX00PtAnSDJdhz-VVIHyE3njnMa2ak-E0qtDrHtgmtzNJCGv0Z9coHmwZstKclbQ-Nb-OYVOP9JNxp9_1Ih79uM9SwQL1eHz7VwCVuDOwQ_JjkbWbKsgvEheEyso4pzA/s640/Screenshot-888.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>One man grabbed her from behind putting a hand over her mouth<b>.</b> He told her not to scream or they'd kill her<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley - </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Oh my</span>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZneaLxao1aDqn5mpLcl14QjWIw2DGBDVSuXnzWuZ8VyJjiItTJa8duD3uyne4GeJs2sgByrQGJtkf0Ejez5eXX1YdJYZNKTnAnDebGUurKExhltNjWEFQoM1tFVk-oyP-XhxBVclHw8/s1600/Screenshot-891.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1ZneaLxao1aDqn5mpLcl14QjWIw2DGBDVSuXnzWuZ8VyJjiItTJa8duD3uyne4GeJs2sgByrQGJtkf0Ejez5eXX1YdJYZNKTnAnDebGUurKExhltNjWEFQoM1tFVk-oyP-XhxBVclHw8/s640/Screenshot-891.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Once he was sure she wouldn't call out, he uncovered her mouth adjusting his grip as the other man come around in front of her<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcDhxf97jf6nBn2NUYJxlAhgCeoA7iOz1tGUfuyK3Aj1FaVrKzjKxh6X7eL2aPwn_I1c1pCOaRE05GmDHpMajXVVhFHnQC3UqhoRkYrDxbaLjFUISzyesaabNnRXndEYlRCzF4N1g0ZE/s1600/Screenshot-889.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjcDhxf97jf6nBn2NUYJxlAhgCeoA7iOz1tGUfuyK3Aj1FaVrKzjKxh6X7eL2aPwn_I1c1pCOaRE05GmDHpMajXVVhFHnQC3UqhoRkYrDxbaLjFUISzyesaabNnRXndEYlRCzF4N1g0ZE/s640/Screenshot-889.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>The first man held her still while the other raped her<b>.</b> When she made it home, she wouldn't talk to anyone, though she did eventually go to the police<b>.</b> When she did finally talk to someone it was to me, we were real close then<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEB04COHXamKSdQX6tGLAyUwngCgVEm1SCvzgKvPEbVQtLHCYOLwdr3sRppo1LGYGtA110W6JIY9RlAtYn33kKCdH5QSSaZUk0-mHvcgKs3Fbg7eibFTEuFqe5HEGCktG67Vqj8NKa3X8/s1600/Screenshot-901.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEB04COHXamKSdQX6tGLAyUwngCgVEm1SCvzgKvPEbVQtLHCYOLwdr3sRppo1LGYGtA110W6JIY9RlAtYn33kKCdH5QSSaZUk0-mHvcgKs3Fbg7eibFTEuFqe5HEGCktG67Vqj8NKa3X8/s640/Screenshot-901.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I bring Hayley close into my arms<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>In a sense, I do understand<b>.</b> I've seen it before<b>. </b>This isn't the first time this type of thing has happened to someone I care about<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I bring her hand up and kiss it while saying this last part<b> </b>watching her closely as I do so<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jB9Q62xWojHaleZFUm6iegTzuOQgW_QN0IIyK5PR8XguwxFRVBpd-XB3-dw-adohgObMfXJEda0F0orDlBeLJqI8Bnm_OgObsDfh-Z7UmmYIR0HGdl5df-zrBxSI3NoCnW0p3r9WKgQ/s1600/Screenshot-892.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2jB9Q62xWojHaleZFUm6iegTzuOQgW_QN0IIyK5PR8XguwxFRVBpd-XB3-dw-adohgObMfXJEda0F0orDlBeLJqI8Bnm_OgObsDfh-Z7UmmYIR0HGdl5df-zrBxSI3NoCnW0p3r9WKgQ/s640/Screenshot-892.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Before she can react, I continue my story<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b>Turner</b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;"> </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; font-weight: normal;">- </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">In the weeks that followed,</span><i style="font-weight: normal;"> </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Lisa had admitted to me once or twice that she had thought of killing herself, but said she would never actually do it</span><b>. </b>I believed her, no matter what I couldn't see her doing that<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCmNch5wky9adDuMAEl22e8AzgvBeBHTNvzZAdqeDu61EB1YOUryfHP1cE-LVooQsOjolcnGkOvOt2aKjGqcE20BCylYl062da9iyVMBf1IMt-gpCzFYTpH2XGSAhx3Nt-btYjvaL2hQ/s1600/Screenshot-893.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibCmNch5wky9adDuMAEl22e8AzgvBeBHTNvzZAdqeDu61EB1YOUryfHP1cE-LVooQsOjolcnGkOvOt2aKjGqcE20BCylYl062da9iyVMBf1IMt-gpCzFYTpH2XGSAhx3Nt-btYjvaL2hQ/s640/Screenshot-893.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Then one day, I found her passed out on the floor of the bathroom with a bottle of pills in her hand<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">Hayley gasps and I again have to stifle a laugh</span>, it's so cute<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvKROuU1ZLyWdBtRuFjhoYmsiksguURnKIy8YiyyAIeZR1brwppU62i-IoIPWVxPnd71tJDAUoJngHRHy4vvzwsDLyqV-UicUCKSxxtDrwfo4l0I7gfrlmNulvuBfzfxmiG0z5bSibY0/s1600/Screenshot-894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHvKROuU1ZLyWdBtRuFjhoYmsiksguURnKIy8YiyyAIeZR1brwppU62i-IoIPWVxPnd71tJDAUoJngHRHy4vvzwsDLyqV-UicUCKSxxtDrwfo4l0I7gfrlmNulvuBfzfxmiG0z5bSibY0/s640/Screenshot-894.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> I called for help and then dropped to the floor and held her<b>.</b> It's one of the few time I'll admit to having cried, thinking I would lose Lisa, my sister<b>.</b> Luckily that didn't happen, I had found her in time and she survived<b>.... </b>and so did the baby<b>.</b> She did it because she found out she was pregnant<b>.</b> Our mother suggested she abort the baby, but she refused and gave it away when it was born<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhsBjpJdRBcUVOd1lZ7DdeSlYqZuT4tgsMrFHErR1uuUyilhwllGOWA_L4BFMdPTQPZlrHpkVXB4buuYCKyP4soOxR4nBf13iE-heO0s-NOqDcQZOL0xnj0SMSbJt7UUITtzxpf-QCCE/s1600/Screenshot-902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhsBjpJdRBcUVOd1lZ7DdeSlYqZuT4tgsMrFHErR1uuUyilhwllGOWA_L4BFMdPTQPZlrHpkVXB4buuYCKyP4soOxR4nBf13iE-heO0s-NOqDcQZOL0xnj0SMSbJt7UUITtzxpf-QCCE/s640/Screenshot-902.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley - </i>I understand why she did it, but...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>But? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Hayley - </i>My mother left when I was a baby and the girl that was my best friend had been adopted<b>.</b> I understand why Lisa gave up her baby, but I could never do that<b>.</b> I know what it's like, knowing your own mother didn't want you<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmqxjQZs1KjPMrsWaVAml6HG0cC4FVnwN8T8cIezPgs63ABvxNBfhfYljpipfBoQnjdzE-RmCIq7QJzPTmvZnl1WLetR5TasLZ9z-d0TCq9TNZjVWD30tVO-74oNCh61rBZLv_QxU4T8/s1600/Screenshot-903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmqxjQZs1KjPMrsWaVAml6HG0cC4FVnwN8T8cIezPgs63ABvxNBfhfYljpipfBoQnjdzE-RmCIq7QJzPTmvZnl1WLetR5TasLZ9z-d0TCq9TNZjVWD30tVO-74oNCh61rBZLv_QxU4T8/s640/Screenshot-903.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> She looks so sad, so hurt<b>.</b> I never knew, even before we brought her here, her life wasn't an easy one<b>.</b> I haven't made it any easier, but I want to<b>.</b> I kiss her sweetly, pressing my lips to hers ever so softly<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uRGr4723LnkDBiUPE5gwpty8GR2L29WL_7e5nUdMic_JVlQsvNHalzFX1aCc-izGp39y2Gx2SpKUQnMo4LKCfQ9I4uSzpEUSR03SjTLbwjop1pGoAsDx45XDQO7qnbAKn4biIxeWQI4/s1600/Screenshot-906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8uRGr4723LnkDBiUPE5gwpty8GR2L29WL_7e5nUdMic_JVlQsvNHalzFX1aCc-izGp39y2Gx2SpKUQnMo4LKCfQ9I4uSzpEUSR03SjTLbwjop1pGoAsDx45XDQO7qnbAKn4biIxeWQI4/s640/Screenshot-906.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It surprises me when she pushes me back kissing intently<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0JjfBZfOMNxkF8c5R7G5615Np7rU1auKHO793lk6VIYWVdb0caz1v9FRp3gAEK4tqMPvA4_Mn3GZxOWzUxmjmo8DFPjLC6U4dwR78Y6Aom8GqiiLMUDa44njAA7iELw2n8jaN76gkvy4/s1600/Screenshot-905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0JjfBZfOMNxkF8c5R7G5615Np7rU1auKHO793lk6VIYWVdb0caz1v9FRp3gAEK4tqMPvA4_Mn3GZxOWzUxmjmo8DFPjLC6U4dwR78Y6Aom8GqiiLMUDa44njAA7iELw2n8jaN76gkvy4/s640/Screenshot-905.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Are you sure? I don't want to do more than you're ready for, too soon<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGwiDYezBjdce59HImsbe2_Ko3boZPcgt6uaKogeDt0gfSHz4cug8KzpzP2f4_NVtelvwOhPuK6-kr0hoJyucw3KZSrd9kOo0z0IZl0qmvnQx8Ra0yJ2B62aYMNWEDWlDj7O8OSo5jXI/s1600/Screenshot-908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioGwiDYezBjdce59HImsbe2_Ko3boZPcgt6uaKogeDt0gfSHz4cug8KzpzP2f4_NVtelvwOhPuK6-kr0hoJyucw3KZSrd9kOo0z0IZl0qmvnQx8Ra0yJ2B62aYMNWEDWlDj7O8OSo5jXI/s640/Screenshot-908.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She responds by kissing me again<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-72229839849492744562011-09-13T20:55:00.000-07:002011-09-13T20:55:28.526-07:00Chapter Nine<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the <i><u>VERY </u></i></b><b><u><i>ADULT</i></u> subject matter remember that you where warned.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> ENJOY.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqB0LQuPLeOHRni3dSf-r_q8E9c92hxVpWgIyXO9NI0rh2ei6BnmgU7w-Td0iEGUNl6IRSSml2hMe_NusrhEnNBF82fLHbOt0nHH_MGLD69D1jixMvSIgw0gtm1j6RLgU8Txh2OkuSOwY/s640/Screenshot-814.jpg" width="640" /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I finish taking the trash out and am about to head back inside when Layla comes running out<b>.</b> It's obvious she's been crying<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT <i>SLAVE</i>?!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPh54M4OOW571HD2TSDB6PzF_hUL3YJyAbqYOOHbDyEfrHmXuGR9x8HtjKRlX0n33FxOpW2SuNlGCfnI_w0eyKWTgsqCCzie4_Kj3foNLMp9WbpP2MBTsgTdGtvvQC7hkDpIgPjxe1_M/s1600/Screenshot-818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAPh54M4OOW571HD2TSDB6PzF_hUL3YJyAbqYOOHbDyEfrHmXuGR9x8HtjKRlX0n33FxOpW2SuNlGCfnI_w0eyKWTgsqCCzie4_Kj3foNLMp9WbpP2MBTsgTdGtvvQC7hkDpIgPjxe1_M/s640/Screenshot-818.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Whoa, what's wrong with you? What's your problem?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>Adam<b>.</b> I hate him<b>! </b>He's awful, the monster<b>. </b>He... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She's cut off, unable to speak as she bursts into tears<b>.</b> He what? Even I don't call him a monster<b>.</b> What could he have done?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPv5SoYwxZm4V8IzUTA6eHWjJZnSZMqYLIbHCJb3bqGe8UUGenJiDDrcgJuuesk2ycDrjhfwae5Qsq9qFPTz6pfFpGQFshd8bO74-tPToqe7zeBy5o46OesDjGIZ4N5mI9oHvKQd5KpvA/s1600/Screenshot-817.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPv5SoYwxZm4V8IzUTA6eHWjJZnSZMqYLIbHCJb3bqGe8UUGenJiDDrcgJuuesk2ycDrjhfwae5Qsq9qFPTz6pfFpGQFshd8bO74-tPToqe7zeBy5o46OesDjGIZ4N5mI9oHvKQd5KpvA/s640/Screenshot-817.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>He what? What's going on?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> What do you care? </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> You clearly need someone to talk to and who better then me? I mean cause who would I tell? No one would listen to me, I<i>'</i>m just the slave<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLzgcfTm6GkcSNSEIqiFBJzSOHPPVL2wdKSifzDHvpQLeNFwDSr0k5lnLUFXusjRVXstQrZX1R-S4wqbFrhVkpVb7vtBJkIM_bxomdjIriVJkAf6mDnYOH5WLXw3YkqDWJRB5-GLZy-w/s1600/Screenshot-819.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJLzgcfTm6GkcSNSEIqiFBJzSOHPPVL2wdKSifzDHvpQLeNFwDSr0k5lnLUFXusjRVXstQrZX1R-S4wqbFrhVkpVb7vtBJkIM_bxomdjIriVJkAf6mDnYOH5WLXw3YkqDWJRB5-GLZy-w/s640/Screenshot-819.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> You're right, he probably wouldn't care if I told <i>you</i><b>. </b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">She holds back at first but then the truth just pours out ,I can't believe what shes telling me<b>.</b> He's so much worse then I ever even thought<b>.</b> </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I'm sorry<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> I don't need your pity<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwfC3J_VMAXJreT5hJO4WGF8SaNjkr5cMSG4jr84ofB6Y9iuSq30Aze-nslQ6GxQIk_z6lhvuQReFeiG67ZbUcwDwoNPPCZJUd1kBvB35GV4Tl1aJ6-u8OYSM13i6rwfJBNi_dYfSRtU/s1600/Screenshot-816.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcwfC3J_VMAXJreT5hJO4WGF8SaNjkr5cMSG4jr84ofB6Y9iuSq30Aze-nslQ6GxQIk_z6lhvuQReFeiG67ZbUcwDwoNPPCZJUd1kBvB35GV4Tl1aJ6-u8OYSM13i6rwfJBNi_dYfSRtU/s640/Screenshot-816.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> That's not what I meant though that too<b>. </b>I, I misjudged you, I was wrong<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>I've mistreated you too<b>.</b> I'm not really like that Hayley, I used to be but I've changed, really<b>.</b> I've just been angry with my situation and you're an easy target to take it out on<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Days later</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The house clean, I hide in my room knowing I'm alone with <i>him</i>, and now knowing what I know<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUC_6L189quKXg3oTm1UKBGlxD6Kv8kQhYQ9HC133gezAJzGgpr1jrMEF25H0t6IzJYGrXUbGiTh4HN9ICuth-hLVytlMlC4BLeCul339yXjGu9ynTYz4u5QsPmDbAYh6uzI5PgGi8xg/s1600/Screenshot-786.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbUC_6L189quKXg3oTm1UKBGlxD6Kv8kQhYQ9HC133gezAJzGgpr1jrMEF25H0t6IzJYGrXUbGiTh4HN9ICuth-hLVytlMlC4BLeCul339yXjGu9ynTYz4u5QsPmDbAYh6uzI5PgGi8xg/s640/Screenshot-786.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I strip down so as to wash my own clothes thinking, <i>hoping</i>, that he wouldn't come in here<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqd9Ttf38xKrPMbs7tmdDqwX6R2dJGyg3U-MVnL1oM5Ysc-FCvMe59VxW5QxyzKFaYK289T_hpbdRBg6v_08uVv7jyXIy4nj3Ref0w0ILCvcspqSuug3rMq4RhO2VVL0jEtDCBN3SyVKg/s1600/Screenshot-785.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqd9Ttf38xKrPMbs7tmdDqwX6R2dJGyg3U-MVnL1oM5Ysc-FCvMe59VxW5QxyzKFaYK289T_hpbdRBg6v_08uVv7jyXIy4nj3Ref0w0ILCvcspqSuug3rMq4RhO2VVL0jEtDCBN3SyVKg/s640/Screenshot-785.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">If only<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Well, well<b>.</b> Were you excepting me or something honey-doll?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUz8XGKkDMMdsaM-CZG0ekAJZHMSngAUYiWXIdwCUt1uSXGukin0CEqxQr5FWWX_ILJLRKZeSspLtBx2kmmIr_HP2_PFXZkEUSdvRo1__lcZmpvnmb1cVsl7eSrvbeHXLEXZoveHogus/s1600/Screenshot-787.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUz8XGKkDMMdsaM-CZG0ekAJZHMSngAUYiWXIdwCUt1uSXGukin0CEqxQr5FWWX_ILJLRKZeSspLtBx2kmmIr_HP2_PFXZkEUSdvRo1__lcZmpvnmb1cVsl7eSrvbeHXLEXZoveHogus/s640/Screenshot-787.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Until my talk with Layla I hadn't been worried about it, I mean he's never actually tried anything before, but then I don't ever remember being <i>completely </i>alone with him before<b>.</b> Even having worried he might come, his sudden appearance startles me making him smile as he moves closer<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6P8cBlJVWmfs2FmoK5un-RE3SGPKinnYyWkE1cF16l_1muRpNT4IrKBd5c6LhWnmKge7Dt0ImQNJrmUWr7trjwi07RtsmMggFxhcxqFxjGtmKbZTYtgK3VZotEnALYBK-055kEtcfCo/s1600/Screenshot-788.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv6P8cBlJVWmfs2FmoK5un-RE3SGPKinnYyWkE1cF16l_1muRpNT4IrKBd5c6LhWnmKge7Dt0ImQNJrmUWr7trjwi07RtsmMggFxhcxqFxjGtmKbZTYtgK3VZotEnALYBK-055kEtcfCo/s640/Screenshot-788.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Before I can do anything, he's behind me twisting my arm behind my back making me whimper<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> I overheard an interesting conversation recently<b>.</b> Did you realize my room is next to Grant and Rylie's? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJGjmK2e3xmp08EGe3Bf26TETOxfOkYMAKJKE4ASy_x9WRWrk-h3qwJsOLmw-Pp7vRCIgErMmVidTVeqACJqHCS1os5rdc_lmAjy7ONVDgHbpDjo2IbotP3OgeGlGhspt_nU-uWdGTUw/s1600/Screenshot-789.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJGjmK2e3xmp08EGe3Bf26TETOxfOkYMAKJKE4ASy_x9WRWrk-h3qwJsOLmw-Pp7vRCIgErMmVidTVeqACJqHCS1os5rdc_lmAjy7ONVDgHbpDjo2IbotP3OgeGlGhspt_nU-uWdGTUw/s640/Screenshot-789.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He laughs and wrenches my arm harder, making me cry out in pain<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>I saw you with Layla, it's<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>so much easier with her<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j9HCxz6yqIG0q2fnKmPN9jklfNDfAFbkfE8I3qUCcjbj6XyIAr8CnujTo7S9EnCij77JvTf28EiMF4VrJqQpE-oqy2uzduvR4vfSIDli0m25wCAKZ_8MUCBYBFo4MW2RoQGvOyK_6oQ/s1600/Screenshot-790.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2j9HCxz6yqIG0q2fnKmPN9jklfNDfAFbkfE8I3qUCcjbj6XyIAr8CnujTo7S9EnCij77JvTf28EiMF4VrJqQpE-oqy2uzduvR4vfSIDli0m25wCAKZ_8MUCBYBFo4MW2RoQGvOyK_6oQ/s640/Screenshot-790.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He turns me around and pulls me close with enough force my head snaps back<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam</i> <i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> You know what I used to like about you?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> My body?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>That too but no<b>.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>You knew your place<b>, </b>but now it seems you should be reminded<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6C2nzls60Ab6zARaciaXuy1vy2Ka0fd-8uRicYzoKwNr2j-bCpwm5Fj8_gTFKTi-zPyS107L6Cr9pj-7BaHVkQ6OSif6nzeYkYkIdaFakJ1h-H4TyvtoRNdmtbklP6PbPomAIoyz4cI/s1600/Screenshot-792.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje6C2nzls60Ab6zARaciaXuy1vy2Ka0fd-8uRicYzoKwNr2j-bCpwm5Fj8_gTFKTi-zPyS107L6Cr9pj-7BaHVkQ6OSif6nzeYkYkIdaFakJ1h-H4TyvtoRNdmtbklP6PbPomAIoyz4cI/s640/Screenshot-792.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I raise my head and spit in his face<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Bitch! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He slaps me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;"> Me -</i> You've been holding back<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's never hit me so hard, my face is throbbing and I fight to hold back tears<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIJ4t0KMJjX_-CgUkOc3ZHEI7hmZH1LTrW-jsXuYpi_Y0ISgtrYoevAOlH6v1cdNpNcIjD23lRhZoHXvgGUvdRMVv44Tt4ECO1CR-sME3McYoZFJbUAkghMa8oj2qLr2RIUMPkeoNrYY/s1600/Screenshot-798.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIJ4t0KMJjX_-CgUkOc3ZHEI7hmZH1LTrW-jsXuYpi_Y0ISgtrYoevAOlH6v1cdNpNcIjD23lRhZoHXvgGUvdRMVv44Tt4ECO1CR-sME3McYoZFJbUAkghMa8oj2qLr2RIUMPkeoNrYY/s640/Screenshot-798.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He shoves me towards my bed<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBYMdX-ruxwoNpZAarpKAnZScayj5-LdKLwiaP1iD_qaOeQ0048R7bhyphenhyphenRN_aTCqKjcZZ2YHY87LsCdecqCGWgDoScCoqWLfjl4tDPeXxjhIv4VM_wMd9I3i6FaMlpL3ag_T-xW4SLub8/s1600/Screenshot-799.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMBYMdX-ruxwoNpZAarpKAnZScayj5-LdKLwiaP1iD_qaOeQ0048R7bhyphenhyphenRN_aTCqKjcZZ2YHY87LsCdecqCGWgDoScCoqWLfjl4tDPeXxjhIv4VM_wMd9I3i6FaMlpL3ag_T-xW4SLub8/s640/Screenshot-799.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My knees hit the bed-frame giving out and I go down<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLWuYFWEaQuYB6Dlk0iR8KCmKPU2SFXy6qk806sq0vmIRJ4fgUPzn-0WdnWS2fW5BvxhNGtERFKJunGkJGL8nsmI8pqEB0hjcNN19gvT1Qvo3CcVHXgrYJ9qUeS7eXBBSOZIP9K52718/s1600/Screenshot-796.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLWuYFWEaQuYB6Dlk0iR8KCmKPU2SFXy6qk806sq0vmIRJ4fgUPzn-0WdnWS2fW5BvxhNGtERFKJunGkJGL8nsmI8pqEB0hjcNN19gvT1Qvo3CcVHXgrYJ9qUeS7eXBBSOZIP9K52718/s640/Screenshot-796.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I can't move, he's so fast I don't get the chance to before he's on top of me pinning my arms above my head<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I knew you were a creep, but I didn't think you where stupid<b>.</b> You know about my relationship with Turner and you think you'll get away with this? </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Turner? He lets you call him Turner?You sneaky little minx<b>.</b> You're manipulating him, that's why he doesn't want it know this time around<b>.</b> You do know about the others? You're not the first slave he's taken to bed, though probably the first that it was your idea<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I don't know what your talking about<b>.</b> Manipulating him? Do you think he's stupid? That he wouldn't see right though that?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He laughs</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Oh shit!</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>No<b>. </b>Do you?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>Shit, shit, shit.</b> No, I don't<b>. SHIT!</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i><b>Oh <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Fuck!</span></b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Well if you'd shut up<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyzp80bEuolCUBUQ7VyJFNyTI_8Ub1sibNnB6VUBlTv3gIW1cgpCJhwlg25bBARgkgoKVO-Wv_bkrIyFSmCdv3QDhOHCcRPZeMIipwYHi5HdnnkrIr6GnoKuZYQb6it0WbOk-yhIUqQ8/s1600/Screenshot-797.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigyzp80bEuolCUBUQ7VyJFNyTI_8Ub1sibNnB6VUBlTv3gIW1cgpCJhwlg25bBARgkgoKVO-Wv_bkrIyFSmCdv3QDhOHCcRPZeMIipwYHi5HdnnkrIr6GnoKuZYQb6it0WbOk-yhIUqQ8/s640/Screenshot-797.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Really? Did he really just say that? I start to open my mouth to ask but he covers it with his free hand shaking his head and I am no longer able to distract him<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> As much as you protest verbally, physically you're not putting up much of a fight<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I try to bite his hand, but his hand pressed too hard against my mouth for me to<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Placing his knees between my own he uses them to open my legs and begins to force into me repeatedly<b>.</b> It hurts<b>.</b> The pain increases with each thrust making it harder and harder for me to hold back tears but I refuse to let him see me cry<b>.</b> Removing his hand, it's replaced with his lips<b>.</b> Perhaps seeing the sudden devious glint to my eyes, he is smart enough not to force his tongue though my clenched teeth<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cDMf3KjkIRaxM3behk4CWiy5zT8UL1v2FNoYhgVmXF3iOMFyyUPZ7xAIQcw1xF3NDEsrKdQHSfba4Kof4AVBP1PTPx9NxAFuyUQkXVNKRGJK2tFWkFVggMbtQwPTLreZyGPpngXPO2o/s1600/Screenshot-801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0cDMf3KjkIRaxM3behk4CWiy5zT8UL1v2FNoYhgVmXF3iOMFyyUPZ7xAIQcw1xF3NDEsrKdQHSfba4Kof4AVBP1PTPx9NxAFuyUQkXVNKRGJK2tFWkFVggMbtQwPTLreZyGPpngXPO2o/s640/Screenshot-801.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Once done he leaves<b>.</b> I lie unable to move for a time, numb<b>.</b> Eventually I sit up pulling my legs close<b>. </b>I put my head on my knees and finally allow my self to cry<b>.</b> I don't know how long I stay like this before I hear the subtle creek of the door across from me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>Hayley I wa... Hayley? What's wrong?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I lift my head to look at him, my face red and puffy<b>.</b> Opening my mouth to tell him, I'm instead overcome with a new wave of tears<b>. </b>He knows, I see the realization come across his face just before my vision blurs<b>.</b> He crosses the room sitting next to me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWCn8S-xIvGBcm4zaqQKiqlhyphenhyphengujWqBJEeVEi9hEhhqeMC4F3PsQ3-WP7S2mErCTjnDeC64wjFo8K98TL0CrCG8HL1FeyC9FbEpLncNZ_LXR_wjyM-mjIpzWoYeusMKNyW-giAd5u6Gs/s1600/Screenshot-802.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUWCn8S-xIvGBcm4zaqQKiqlhyphenhyphengujWqBJEeVEi9hEhhqeMC4F3PsQ3-WP7S2mErCTjnDeC64wjFo8K98TL0CrCG8HL1FeyC9FbEpLncNZ_LXR_wjyM-mjIpzWoYeusMKNyW-giAd5u6Gs/s640/Screenshot-802.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Still somewhat numb, I'm limp as he pulls me into his arms and holds me while I continue to cry<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He's so sweet and comforting, but how real is it? I don't know why, but I decide to tell him Layla's story<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i>(Now we go back to a few days before to what happened between Adam and Layla and hear her conversation with our dear Hayley.Layla's P.O.V.) </i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">My relationship with Ian started as just someone to hook up when I needed a good hard roll in the sheets<b>. </b>I won't deny that, but that's the thing<b>.</b> It <i>started </i>that way<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWr2YW7h57mIfjDpGSWGP64T6jrnW9rJMa7GTx6L4iuhvhAX2glhkEQl16rD4h5_WIRou4Dl6titMD1n80aIT-jej4-Uy-msEJF8vUKQUw4S4cOZ8hQBqO7pQd54yEl8aw6JG3AEZGjU/s1600/Screenshot-809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWr2YW7h57mIfjDpGSWGP64T6jrnW9rJMa7GTx6L4iuhvhAX2glhkEQl16rD4h5_WIRou4Dl6titMD1n80aIT-jej4-Uy-msEJF8vUKQUw4S4cOZ8hQBqO7pQd54yEl8aw6JG3AEZGjU/s640/Screenshot-809.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>Don't touch me!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Oh come on sweet lips<b>. </b>I was hoping we'd have some more fun<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i> No<b>.</b> No, not again<b>.</b> You ruined everything<b>.</b> We could have gone to my place or at least your room, but no it had to be down on that couch<b> </b>where and when you knew Ian would find us<b>. </b>Somehow you know I really care about him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He laughed at me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam -</i> Then why'd you do it? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla - </i>You know why and don't act like you don't<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrydqVi9wlvhbNSoX073SAd-XTvC1lT8BdniB1K9p_Lk1IjprysgGo4c-3DtB4gUKXWNeFBsYhcAPlpBolP07-6prgLAQC9koAfpNeK0C3inaQqc87lKKKGK5A2eAdf9vCKhamrShqwU/s1600/Screenshot-810.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrydqVi9wlvhbNSoX073SAd-XTvC1lT8BdniB1K9p_Lk1IjprysgGo4c-3DtB4gUKXWNeFBsYhcAPlpBolP07-6prgLAQC9koAfpNeK0C3inaQqc87lKKKGK5A2eAdf9vCKhamrShqwU/s640/Screenshot-810.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He smiled and grabbed me<b>. </b>I stared into his eyes and he chuckled, I would almost have called it hearty, if I thought he had a heart<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJDPjBI-EfJDm2-XBFmFjRwIfG79D2ueQNqbKi6mJOQVtcBEgmgZ3P7R50sdF-kBMsZLB2opMV3Pes7rLHWb7yjyfy5s8YlQbMofXLlyOpJZPB9RVvFElcK0-E96SIGi51Q2cRaBImk4/s1600/Screenshot-811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxJDPjBI-EfJDm2-XBFmFjRwIfG79D2ueQNqbKi6mJOQVtcBEgmgZ3P7R50sdF-kBMsZLB2opMV3Pes7rLHWb7yjyfy5s8YlQbMofXLlyOpJZPB9RVvFElcK0-E96SIGi51Q2cRaBImk4/s640/Screenshot-811.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then he pulled me closer so that our faces were almost touching and I could feels his breath<b>.</b> He spoke sternly and coldly<b>. </b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Why do you seem to think then that, that reason's no longer there? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">That's when my eyes started to water<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> No<b>.</b> Whatever you want<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And then got this devilish grin<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i>Beg<b>.</b> On your knees<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIANzU-9qwuKiFXB1q62Ba1W1l4zAz7SH6m_ok87OsCZBQfTpowhdE0jPeRAZ_yb8cmCm64rMIBR6-onTx2k4iWoEkmC6FSvHvSsF9EJwgIGi2BzD8S0iG-ImsibQc9YkqYzs6OnFkQbI/s1600/Screenshot-812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIANzU-9qwuKiFXB1q62Ba1W1l4zAz7SH6m_ok87OsCZBQfTpowhdE0jPeRAZ_yb8cmCm64rMIBR6-onTx2k4iWoEkmC6FSvHvSsF9EJwgIGi2BzD8S0iG-ImsibQc9YkqYzs6OnFkQbI/s640/Screenshot-812.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Layla -</i> I'll do whatever you want, just please don't<b>. </b>Just leave him alone<b><i>. Please! </i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b> </b>Smiling he bent down<b> </b>and kissed me then standing, undid his pants<b>.</b> I started to stand to lower my jeans, but he shock his head and put a hand on my shoulder to tell me to stay down<b>.</b> I understood, I mean it's no secret that I'm not exactly little miss innocent<b>. </b>I've done it before<b>.</b><b> </b>So I did it, hard and deep, hoping the more I pleasured him the sooner he would be satisfied and I could stop<b>.</b> After awhile he grabbed me by my hair and pulled me to my feet before shoving me away and letting me go<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Adam - </i> There now, you can leave if you wish but we'll see each other again soon enough<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">(Now back to Hayley)</span></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><br />
</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CyHnqpUUr4U9WNtLRU3GqGBfDBTb6T_QdDy4UKBX781bsqIu1ehHuh6PMt4imUg1bYZSbOUnCvHiHoAkU3BD4u4Y_Gn7prSZhnLykF5qi1ZemCcWYX2Yl6_f06OJg6sEr_mV-It7bps/s1600/Screenshot-803.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2CyHnqpUUr4U9WNtLRU3GqGBfDBTb6T_QdDy4UKBX781bsqIu1ehHuh6PMt4imUg1bYZSbOUnCvHiHoAkU3BD4u4Y_Gn7prSZhnLykF5qi1ZemCcWYX2Yl6_f06OJg6sEr_mV-It7bps/s640/Screenshot-803.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>I don't believe this<b>.</b> I know I may not be the best person, but I've made it clear to you anything we do is entirely you're choice<b>.</b> I would never even think to force myself on a woman<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me - </i>I know<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>And he may not physically force Layla like he did you but<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> But he's <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coercion">coercing</a> her and consent under <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Duress">duress</a> isn't consent<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner -</i> Hmm<b>. </b>It seems you have a bit of a legal mind<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> My father was a lawyer before he died<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-4053687447638483222011-09-10T16:01:00.000-07:002011-09-10T18:47:05.270-07:00Chapter Eight<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b style="font-weight: bold;">This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the</b><i> </i><b><u><i>ADULT</i></u> subject matter remember that you where warned.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> ENJOY.</i></span></div>
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<img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjB9JD0CJqiGxX8cQ44jawoLteNYvxn0Jp5WjaA7YWx7Wm6c5YwQ0W_LS4WXeTIq7WgcSqpbH6kYZ2cKAw_nqt8id_GsflsW4PjZ3Y6UZpDVY8gOOyBfPXyDsrkIG6VTV07OlO3uPSSRQo/s640/Screenshot-710.jpg" width="640" /></div>
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Again I find myself reminded of Shawn, the past boyfriend I mentioned before<b>.</b> Though I have had several boyfriends, Shawn was the best and the last<b>.</b> We would still be together<b>.</b> As Turner continues to stroke my hair, I wonder how such an awful and evil man can be so sweet<b>.</b> How the man that took me away from Shawn could act so like him<b>.</b></div>
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Breakfast time :D</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiia_PD5f4NxvCoJwsRUUEirosKiVrJdF_98QqrjO84AmJJTDO_TVPfmAcWdBTQ7qk8n5ymm4MclfltlN2xshlm8EsGm2DRtQ15BlyG7F5707UdiaKKnfb01ctO4mpOJhxm_OXEOVpbn-s/s1600/Screenshot-719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiia_PD5f4NxvCoJwsRUUEirosKiVrJdF_98QqrjO84AmJJTDO_TVPfmAcWdBTQ7qk8n5ymm4MclfltlN2xshlm8EsGm2DRtQ15BlyG7F5707UdiaKKnfb01ctO4mpOJhxm_OXEOVpbn-s/s640/Screenshot-719.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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I think when I'm free I'll be come a chef<b>.</b></div>
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I could hardly cook when I was first brought here, but you know what they say<b>:</b></div>
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"Practice makes perfect" and <i>my </i>food <i>is </i><b><i>perfect</i>.</b></div>
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I fail to hide my surprise as he takes a the seat next to me<b>. </b></div>
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I love to cook, but I hate to clean<b>.</b></div>
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Not as much though as I hate a mess, so even if I weren't forced, I would cook and clean<b>.</b></div>
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It's not like anyone else is going to<b>.</b></div>
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I hate the laundry most of all, Adam always takes the chance to stare when I bend over to pick it up and with this short little skirt, he gets a good view<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-O4RgmU3yBmpkcfjPlYoXZzjGiYHTd4pYO6J7F0vyqTp8SkiMh5sZ9bgKL9lARukLnN8amj4uZ3p0B2OaEJOXtnaKzNY8aLzA8tRmbLeVLBa8VLDLGExi3BXt-XZJmvtoyZnSIxIKvrc/s1600/Screenshot-745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-O4RgmU3yBmpkcfjPlYoXZzjGiYHTd4pYO6J7F0vyqTp8SkiMh5sZ9bgKL9lARukLnN8amj4uZ3p0B2OaEJOXtnaKzNY8aLzA8tRmbLeVLBa8VLDLGExi3BXt-XZJmvtoyZnSIxIKvrc/s640/Screenshot-745.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gDiK_N8SuK-viRnbqF3VlPhnf9uRCmnqfETds8s2OVIp9ovxnLPlKqFeNWl8u5NCxX5DAyt16HCKGnMApmtW_vKdjeHTa1q2bby4Oc6w4im3M-zrgPEaSucOatFgEqYEtkB7XlyHNeM/s1600/Screenshot-771.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-gDiK_N8SuK-viRnbqF3VlPhnf9uRCmnqfETds8s2OVIp9ovxnLPlKqFeNWl8u5NCxX5DAyt16HCKGnMApmtW_vKdjeHTa1q2bby4Oc6w4im3M-zrgPEaSucOatFgEqYEtkB7XlyHNeM/s640/Screenshot-771.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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Luckily by the time I was done gathering the dirty clothes in the entire house and loading the washer the men had left for the warehouse leaving me with Rylie<b>. </b>I still think she knows somehow, I have to ask<b>.</b></div>
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Rylie treats me as an equal, a friend<b>.</b> I ask her not to tell<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie -</i> I won't... except,</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Except you have to tell Grant?</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie - </i>Yes, I ...</div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> I understand<b>.</b> You can't keep things from the one you love<b>.</b></div>
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At the end of the day, I take shower<b>.</b></div>
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This time Turner does join me<b>.</b><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGlfqogxqjbneP89dp46LD8E_hFEVVeiNGJonXbiMNHywGhJAoGpJNkUFgrs0csOsgu2w3a1_M_fO0VH_mHmJUMz9BA6l_iXhq_sMrXm-i1GjIEFylgQ-jmFgEFBZyVBAHSLmKYylf8U/s1600/Screenshot-779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNGlfqogxqjbneP89dp46LD8E_hFEVVeiNGJonXbiMNHywGhJAoGpJNkUFgrs0csOsgu2w3a1_M_fO0VH_mHmJUMz9BA6l_iXhq_sMrXm-i1GjIEFylgQ-jmFgEFBZyVBAHSLmKYylf8U/s640/Screenshot-779.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We wash each others<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Mmmh</div>
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I sigh, content, as he runs his hands over my back and shoulders and kisses my neck<b>.</b> </div>
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Facing each other we kiss before turning off the water and moving to the bed<b>.</b></div>
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He lays me down sending a tremor though me as he runs his hand though my hair, down my arm,along my back and then my leg<b>. </b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Ooohh<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> <i style="font-weight: bold;">-</i> Just lay back, relax<b>.</b></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO5qabi6itErI3THyRtBcrkIZKJiu3gqWVY2TUvnSs3oxCtMkC7E6Lv-DL8xieQozr92eM7awwvwrZ9WB4CGA2wsBKeQ4UQ35Q45x6k1lHCtM7yxv_N018avDFnlcTjeszqB-VxshEww/s1600/Screenshot-781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbO5qabi6itErI3THyRtBcrkIZKJiu3gqWVY2TUvnSs3oxCtMkC7E6Lv-DL8xieQozr92eM7awwvwrZ9WB4CGA2wsBKeQ4UQ35Q45x6k1lHCtM7yxv_N018avDFnlcTjeszqB-VxshEww/s640/Screenshot-781.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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He whispers in my ear, then nibbles the lobe<b>. </b>He kisses jawline moving down to my neck, collarbone<b>.</b> He pushes my hair to one side reaching my breast and envelops it in his mouth kissing it, another kiss, and again<b>.</b> Gently he bites, pinching the nipple between his teeth<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Me -</i> Oh god!</div>
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I arch my back feeling an immense surge of pleasure and he lifts his head to look at me<b>.</b></div>
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<i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner - </i>You like that?</div>
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<b style="font-style: italic;"> Me - </b><i>YES!</i></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM1rRPIscRpI84Bv9qHBvJWmHbyKgxpErwsDIZVlv9Qk-TxacOEZnnidoMuviNwlRaNKXOPQ1QMpQ7BXcUGf2rzgWsOCAUoBUHnFdPOE0SyActAJOISycj3K6xsufBUf2tQ6b2_-296I/s1600/Screenshot-750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiM1rRPIscRpI84Bv9qHBvJWmHbyKgxpErwsDIZVlv9Qk-TxacOEZnnidoMuviNwlRaNKXOPQ1QMpQ7BXcUGf2rzgWsOCAUoBUHnFdPOE0SyActAJOISycj3K6xsufBUf2tQ6b2_-296I/s640/Screenshot-750.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-88212383311457427692011-09-02T23:24:00.000-07:002011-09-20T05:52:43.261-07:00Chapter Seven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">This chapter doesn't really need the full rated "M" warning, but there is some language that some may not care for. :p</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCYfcsuLwNz-g3u-3-63cFxaMH7vf07gTU4imSXnXYUpn9j0IA8poSbnz_2uCrCllqf5swTS0pQF7vClBeOHRH42fI2b293XQwMr_InHLB4VO45gsvLD0AOsQs7-IyBQu3_B4ZR8om1go/s1600/Screenshot-691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCYfcsuLwNz-g3u-3-63cFxaMH7vf07gTU4imSXnXYUpn9j0IA8poSbnz_2uCrCllqf5swTS0pQF7vClBeOHRH42fI2b293XQwMr_InHLB4VO45gsvLD0AOsQs7-IyBQu3_B4ZR8om1go/s640/Screenshot-691.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I can hear my master's voice whispering softly in my ear, waking me from my sleep and coaxing me from my dreams of sweet freedom<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> - Hayley<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- hmm?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I open my eyes, throwing a quick glance to the clock across the room before fixing them on him and give him a slight smile<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- Good morning, Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutYes0GICkvhL-RyJwTUNgUwUqukGWpsqoC-HJP2Nbu431LkxtOmFHx20fMfrL-jr9nqKEeTYvkQK-Yac6306zovKdZq3jzBEBYhXpXckub7VvUCL4dBdDaIK6ST1gc9MIeqw1cowjs0/s1600/Screenshot-692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjutYes0GICkvhL-RyJwTUNgUwUqukGWpsqoC-HJP2Nbu431LkxtOmFHx20fMfrL-jr9nqKEeTYvkQK-Yac6306zovKdZq3jzBEBYhXpXckub7VvUCL4dBdDaIK6ST1gc9MIeqw1cowjs0/s640/Screenshot-692.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sitting up, Turner pulls me into a kiss while keeping an arm wrapped around me and my hand in his<b>. </b>Nearly each moment makes me more sure that my plan is working<b>. </b>I have little doubt at this point that he is falling for me<b>. </b>The way he has acted, at least while we are alone, has changed<b>.</b> He doesn't grab my hands like he did that first time<b>. </b>No longer does he need to be in control<b>. </b>When we are alone, it is <i>almost </i>as if we are equal<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- I'm going to take a shower<b>....</b> care to join me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner </i>-No, that's fine<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w1hyghfqcr6oIQP5l0hlJBsIVsxk1qWFCplIK6QCTGsZizZerS8F_jPRtTB_9BY3b9x1dAEi6hSOPinr7wuJjn_DCqcvDiepN5jTolmAUl7XWBgl89ObLs-jz0eh8Na2KekqbOLIs2w/s1600/Screenshot-697.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3w1hyghfqcr6oIQP5l0hlJBsIVsxk1qWFCplIK6QCTGsZizZerS8F_jPRtTB_9BY3b9x1dAEi6hSOPinr7wuJjn_DCqcvDiepN5jTolmAUl7XWBgl89ObLs-jz0eh8Na2KekqbOLIs2w/s640/Screenshot-697.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- Alright<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">While I shower, we talk calling back and forth though the open glass door<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner </i>- Why don't you put on that dress of yours? I wish to see it<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- You'll see it when they have the wedding<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner </i>- Is that a no then? You know what I meant<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- If I put it on, you'll just take it off<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> - Ha-Ha! You make that sound like a bad thing<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i>- You might rip it<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> - I won't<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmuGPhbadXIFUkJUu7Xh-ssO4Zh44-1Ug1iWx0mWfJrDzdtAM0OY_cLgr4WlKZfIdS55AWqnXpyU9A5FfrTt3nhgufs96DNnQvB3ctaiklSA6gtAAyGfql5tCAFXldkYC2sspkoe4oBk/s1600/Screenshot-706.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibmuGPhbadXIFUkJUu7Xh-ssO4Zh44-1Ug1iWx0mWfJrDzdtAM0OY_cLgr4WlKZfIdS55AWqnXpyU9A5FfrTt3nhgufs96DNnQvB3ctaiklSA6gtAAyGfql5tCAFXldkYC2sspkoe4oBk/s640/Screenshot-706.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I come out wearing the dress to see him fully clothed as well, which was good<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me</i> - Well? You wanted to see it, so how does it look? He looks me over, then stares at me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> - Beautiful<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBslLP9Hfsfb1iQfPcnuE-oOleXTq45pc6LNWgPysNuNEXv1aHCD8trdq_pvcgPLrzWj9Pi4GZnbU_X3Lf3Q9HtnH9bVgEjzlysQiDq8zyvlZSH6cbde4VApZ4Oh9_2-T0b9237GgPAZI/s1600/Screenshot-708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBslLP9Hfsfb1iQfPcnuE-oOleXTq45pc6LNWgPysNuNEXv1aHCD8trdq_pvcgPLrzWj9Pi4GZnbU_X3Lf3Q9HtnH9bVgEjzlysQiDq8zyvlZSH6cbde4VApZ4Oh9_2-T0b9237GgPAZI/s640/Screenshot-708.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He runs his hands though my hair and down my arms<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfKql_MZSPJe9nQIF7BrK3QoF0VPWcE3zKY0VyNnwUcO4qEGNFXCMmIIGet7qZNNQf5h-ivfs-cSlBGZqPXf5or2jsbbEMfAVpLl2nK_RHsdHYfpLSRKnv6hLvnf8ynyuQwBaqI9QOFc/s1600/Screenshot-709.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnfKql_MZSPJe9nQIF7BrK3QoF0VPWcE3zKY0VyNnwUcO4qEGNFXCMmIIGet7qZNNQf5h-ivfs-cSlBGZqPXf5or2jsbbEMfAVpLl2nK_RHsdHYfpLSRKnv6hLvnf8ynyuQwBaqI9QOFc/s640/Screenshot-709.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Taking my hand he started leading me back towards the bed<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeo3nQqnVz4d2mmCAPs3Z6YQGwYDkGBCd6uZGje-9dYqwvmx9loaD0i3Hi-tF5JD3-SHdFc2gbyRH7qQQBsNwKEy811GWKhJjFobMNGTGsvIBkkKO6OXNlmsSgFFyxl4t_qCQdmJQ2Fas/s1600/Screenshot-757.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeo3nQqnVz4d2mmCAPs3Z6YQGwYDkGBCd6uZGje-9dYqwvmx9loaD0i3Hi-tF5JD3-SHdFc2gbyRH7qQQBsNwKEy811GWKhJjFobMNGTGsvIBkkKO6OXNlmsSgFFyxl4t_qCQdmJQ2Fas/s640/Screenshot-757.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me</i> - Turner no, the dress<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b> Oh shit!</b> I start to pull away but he doesn't let me<b>.</b> Gripping my arm in one hand, he presses the other to the my back pulling me towards him<b>.</b> Did I just say no to him?<b> </b>His voice is slightly stern<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> - Did you just say no to me?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"><i>SHIT! SHIT!</i><i style="font-size: xx-large;"> </i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">FUCK! </span><i>SHIT!</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He laughs and I relax just a little<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner </i>- Just sit with me<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmJZzHhE_MsLQTH6f1twiDzGJhrgjF4r8C7Iayyi5GCuKr_Snh1To2PyrNNDarRIJuHcdU8-c-GN9mH2uR19AFLB23ojBP0DKrl7xybyWtTsJIBdx7dDdkDvoH4oRtVutLYWBFJCOTCc/s1600/Screenshot-714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXmJZzHhE_MsLQTH6f1twiDzGJhrgjF4r8C7Iayyi5GCuKr_Snh1To2PyrNNDarRIJuHcdU8-c-GN9mH2uR19AFLB23ojBP0DKrl7xybyWtTsJIBdx7dDdkDvoH4oRtVutLYWBFJCOTCc/s640/Screenshot-714.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Sitting on the bed, Turner pulls me close<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjIxQItXQkyOd-porK7ASluFKuOOLRkf0f3uFnML9OHfOlBsZP6nfiH3QMbfy57mhac5AvCprFS1VDV1kjdCj_iBSnJKyJgdL6v6SKTfNQPu25C3mty0NvGJsbz6gt5XlrdgI9MVFxf4/s1600/Screenshot-715.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRjIxQItXQkyOd-porK7ASluFKuOOLRkf0f3uFnML9OHfOlBsZP6nfiH3QMbfy57mhac5AvCprFS1VDV1kjdCj_iBSnJKyJgdL6v6SKTfNQPu25C3mty0NvGJsbz6gt5XlrdgI9MVFxf4/s640/Screenshot-715.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Placing a hand on my chin, he pulls me in for another kiss. After he closes his eyes, I let a devious smile cross my lips for a moment before they are pressed against his<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADa8LXsXn0N6vqBF8hlgfR6UNPoPT-pdnkkY6a8x3GL6RkCfXIRmtYNTSR3_12NLX0BkL2XiTcMnSE5pT13B_F3ImC66QxL8iHf02voHN54_bCynq_ufn0zjC1DiX26LSt7Y98UzXfc8/s1600/Screenshot-710.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjADa8LXsXn0N6vqBF8hlgfR6UNPoPT-pdnkkY6a8x3GL6RkCfXIRmtYNTSR3_12NLX0BkL2XiTcMnSE5pT13B_F3ImC66QxL8iHf02voHN54_bCynq_ufn0zjC1DiX26LSt7Y98UzXfc8/s640/Screenshot-710.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He lounges back and I rest my head on his stomach<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXesZaAJJNjj6mTsZmCChjrlO3FWgmPCdulXDSoaxuSQKYwhFPMv2o6E0-43Ydi2M-oWF9u2NsqA8Vve3jSCjnZLcIWXwAIyLlM9tD84VDo-u2YQ2vLo1voInnV20OW2CWhbv85mgUnA/s1600/Screenshot-711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXesZaAJJNjj6mTsZmCChjrlO3FWgmPCdulXDSoaxuSQKYwhFPMv2o6E0-43Ydi2M-oWF9u2NsqA8Vve3jSCjnZLcIWXwAIyLlM9tD84VDo-u2YQ2vLo1voInnV20OW2CWhbv85mgUnA/s640/Screenshot-711.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He holds my hand in one of his while the other strokes my hair<b>.</b> When I said no to him, I thought right away it was a mistake and then I'll admit his reaction scared me<b>.</b> I was worried for nothing<b>.</b> He can be so sweet when he wants to be<b>.</b> We just lay there for awhile talking while he continues to stroke my hair<b>. </b>We talk about too much for me to give every word, but I now have no doubt in my plan<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He may be the king of thieves, but I have stolen his heart<b>.</b></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-46024693128487484082011-08-27T17:17:00.000-07:002011-08-27T20:31:55.616-07:00Chapter Six<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b style="font-weight: bold;">This blog is rated M for Mature readers. I will not say that anyone can not read this but if you have an issue with the <i>very</i> </b><b>Adult subject matter remember that you where warned.</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> ENJOY.</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXuaigYSBXUH693ozkGx8jVuM75hrGDuo0-4zpSTn_tODhJrwhZWhXXaekrbPuPIq3HSROP2OBHzwWc6Bmy3-b0rV82zUZwjqIyhV6nj2qUpwIn1QKsShA-8B3Mbm1q7Cmiv7VD5PV18/s1600/Screenshot-610.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvXuaigYSBXUH693ozkGx8jVuM75hrGDuo0-4zpSTn_tODhJrwhZWhXXaekrbPuPIq3HSROP2OBHzwWc6Bmy3-b0rV82zUZwjqIyhV6nj2qUpwIn1QKsShA-8B3Mbm1q7Cmiv7VD5PV18/s640/Screenshot-610.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It's been a few weeks since Grant proposed to Rylie and she moved in<b>.</b> I know you're used to hearing from me more often then that, but there's not much to tell, I cook, I clean, spending most nights in my master's bed, life goes on<b>. </b>I like Rylie, she seems like a decent person and let's me call her by name<b>. </b>I can tell she truly loves Grant<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuG3cTAUH0q8CWPtEPGqJ2GrNUGGoowjscm_R3V5-9Dk9tafqJVqGuEshUJJMg3fC7mdGbfMXzpaYZT2pcNsNkXr2Rup7pdUaRfKCmQnOyabIec8K1W57y7Rv8FefaWTTb7eIZ1LXEsc/s1600/Screenshot-643.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWuG3cTAUH0q8CWPtEPGqJ2GrNUGGoowjscm_R3V5-9Dk9tafqJVqGuEshUJJMg3fC7mdGbfMXzpaYZT2pcNsNkXr2Rup7pdUaRfKCmQnOyabIec8K1W57y7Rv8FefaWTTb7eIZ1LXEsc/s640/Screenshot-643.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The wedding is going to be small, but nice<b>.</b> Rylie has had me helping her plan and even requested of the others that I be allowed to wear a nice dress<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SH7yPBad-QFVENI04Vmp7vEXx5ClEgGz4A1Y5wLZW-dOUxRLhL2VluycoR0mqPz0BTovOlHhhYgOe7y8mUbNs-ljYek5YekMbi9apPn3VO4znBOvOLnjBvm0pdpVNz4VIWAYTekbbvE/s1600/Screenshot-661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2SH7yPBad-QFVENI04Vmp7vEXx5ClEgGz4A1Y5wLZW-dOUxRLhL2VluycoR0mqPz0BTovOlHhhYgOe7y8mUbNs-ljYek5YekMbi9apPn3VO4znBOvOLnjBvm0pdpVNz4VIWAYTekbbvE/s640/Screenshot-661.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">They let her take me with her to get our dresses and to do something my hair, which has grown out a bit and is a mess from me not really being able to do anything with it. She wants it to look good for her wedding<b>.</b> Arriving back, Rylie went down the stairs head of me </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7yBRtj0LrPA7cpwUWFqqGTpw2Rf8msbqyV1fpcAMXbaPxS2EGex3fFnIlOQIIt7bUtWmRJQ_zG3Gmau-VOYshLQ2QfdXBtzZCMnR3wig7khTxC3nIGLdGHSdggQybkziFOyYc79oqeU/s1600/Screenshot-662.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis7yBRtj0LrPA7cpwUWFqqGTpw2Rf8msbqyV1fpcAMXbaPxS2EGex3fFnIlOQIIt7bUtWmRJQ_zG3Gmau-VOYshLQ2QfdXBtzZCMnR3wig7khTxC3nIGLdGHSdggQybkziFOyYc79oqeU/s640/Screenshot-662.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhu-DA6_E_0TOzq7N9J24g7xGTon-tukGUsq0L9qB7rKq8w9yg8QzNjbTKeU0uaVzoU32Qf8YjIj3pVEKqcKjVbDqb3GgI1xXJdqGcNDHQPHNHk52GO27VkHZ7Ks-Xf-5yfFSsJfpDoo/s1600/Screenshot-663.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIhu-DA6_E_0TOzq7N9J24g7xGTon-tukGUsq0L9qB7rKq8w9yg8QzNjbTKeU0uaVzoU32Qf8YjIj3pVEKqcKjVbDqb3GgI1xXJdqGcNDHQPHNHk52GO27VkHZ7Ks-Xf-5yfFSsJfpDoo/s640/Screenshot-663.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The den was empty, except for my master<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZK2OZLofzEDUtJ3jcFtKV8deyR281Mcyw-dZmmvx64FO6sBWJE-IbRRTfXqs0_ZqfPwyvfGS5S7r_pS0JJvCmm7uuHV6nOeJ_sYATpsR244w7BVYssgqseMZTU4S0tMBoAoaHyRRVOw/s1600/Screenshot-664.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCZK2OZLofzEDUtJ3jcFtKV8deyR281Mcyw-dZmmvx64FO6sBWJE-IbRRTfXqs0_ZqfPwyvfGS5S7r_pS0JJvCmm7uuHV6nOeJ_sYATpsR244w7BVYssgqseMZTU4S0tMBoAoaHyRRVOw/s640/Screenshot-664.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie</i> <b>-</b> I'm , uh, gonna go find Grant<b>.</b> I hope you had a good time Hayley<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>I did Rylie, thank you<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30EC_cubC1MXJRGrOn9Ad9jBtF3kiogNgDsI0S9K4zUEjL6AdPHsQBN0uacv4Co6YvdGrgnMUnk21DGoe4Qsfho6uqo6hREDCQikJQQKrl8M5OjLmO-IQQk73YJbYkuk18o_6w2XjypE/s1600/Screenshot-665.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj30EC_cubC1MXJRGrOn9Ad9jBtF3kiogNgDsI0S9K4zUEjL6AdPHsQBN0uacv4Co6YvdGrgnMUnk21DGoe4Qsfho6uqo6hREDCQikJQQKrl8M5OjLmO-IQQk73YJbYkuk18o_6w2XjypE/s640/Screenshot-665.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Does she know somehow? The way she was so quick to leave us alone<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIw6EqtBUkhGY4SLlCb8aicmDtwGqHcdY4aWKlXr2dn82Gg6FoWXyTqBOOb9fyfK_VtZFAP6MKnep2tXzMhhH5entk4jT1UzO_7rrMkZ-LaN-7l6F6onqJ8DS3HdepR0LP0q4iZDr3xE/s1600/Screenshot-666.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPIw6EqtBUkhGY4SLlCb8aicmDtwGqHcdY4aWKlXr2dn82Gg6FoWXyTqBOOb9fyfK_VtZFAP6MKnep2tXzMhhH5entk4jT1UzO_7rrMkZ-LaN-7l6F6onqJ8DS3HdepR0LP0q4iZDr3xE/s640/Screenshot-666.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">We seem to be in unspoken agreement to keep our<b>...</b> involvement hidden, so it is only after Rylie disappears my master has me against the wall and kisses me deeply<b>. </b>With all that he has done to me, taken from me I feel my master is an awful man, but can not deny he is a wonderful kisser<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me</i> <b>-</b><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>You like it?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-VcL1Jii7BaUdIWILd0oZyQ3LFioifCjtGjiWeKcRKewTEOR3MlZjyeHhB_0rgBS71GlUSkWTmwucyDcHqf09VtXxjOmvhj0MeCBV2tt86SruJmyOa_9hQ-KShVyjUej5CZN39HSHmE/s1600/Screenshot-667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix-VcL1Jii7BaUdIWILd0oZyQ3LFioifCjtGjiWeKcRKewTEOR3MlZjyeHhB_0rgBS71GlUSkWTmwucyDcHqf09VtXxjOmvhj0MeCBV2tt86SruJmyOa_9hQ-KShVyjUej5CZN39HSHmE/s640/Screenshot-667.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I wrap my body tightly around his-</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSWCKX-xI5VgmfVOOFPuI3y_vCmFHVM4_v7gOAcF0_IX4RXcNM8rB82Qey69uD-b4S40EtnE4hbqKnI72a210UPfQMGtE2vbbM5ndbIwYlm2Rwuwi66EfAurQg1dc0BZ9LypKtWmHk-M/s1600/Screenshot-668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdSWCKX-xI5VgmfVOOFPuI3y_vCmFHVM4_v7gOAcF0_IX4RXcNM8rB82Qey69uD-b4S40EtnE4hbqKnI72a210UPfQMGtE2vbbM5ndbIwYlm2Rwuwi66EfAurQg1dc0BZ9LypKtWmHk-M/s640/Screenshot-668.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and he carries me into the treasure chamber that also serves as his living quarters<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVZ2jE6sOL-dMmyCP3mbGRKTb17qQbx7NazhGTJehe_RPwLWV2CQ054AfbYWrWkewm1bQnLRBOq6AtaldBPwBg7DejfSMeU3L8vnxXs41nEU0oXbf48TU1oTZcZJe9hyKBE89jgxzjPE/s1600/Screenshot-673.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsVZ2jE6sOL-dMmyCP3mbGRKTb17qQbx7NazhGTJehe_RPwLWV2CQ054AfbYWrWkewm1bQnLRBOq6AtaldBPwBg7DejfSMeU3L8vnxXs41nEU0oXbf48TU1oTZcZJe9hyKBE89jgxzjPE/s640/Screenshot-673.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">As he lets me down, I look again at the statues, paintings, and other such treasures<b>.</b> They are all familiar even before I was taken, replicas are common and cheap, but the originals are priceless<b>.</b> These are the originals<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrArb7Gq3l9bK5T8JAJ13F0jOtzOa5-FMOvBTNtCWDW3lfKw44sN6HX24dWSvTRl-lCDbxaTmZZ6To1QWqHYbMmRVX7DgMPRCfMuXG9a-Zmp0MQ2z1FlS1uW6UPuB9qG2SDbOg4aLPjU/s1600/Screenshot-670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcrArb7Gq3l9bK5T8JAJ13F0jOtzOa5-FMOvBTNtCWDW3lfKw44sN6HX24dWSvTRl-lCDbxaTmZZ6To1QWqHYbMmRVX7DgMPRCfMuXG9a-Zmp0MQ2z1FlS1uW6UPuB9qG2SDbOg4aLPjU/s640/Screenshot-670.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>-</b> Oh Master<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WGs4pNeFu3i07e_IC7n18LI0E0H2mfOWukKmGTPP4Wk8kspv23HgfqOClsiaNIkRoncvM9w5b64SzarJDM9q25J7-JXvudIgBi0oRTA_oyR2XS_cAA-RWHIBu9i0UmkZNtSV-YOKjSk/s1600/Screenshot-669.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0WGs4pNeFu3i07e_IC7n18LI0E0H2mfOWukKmGTPP4Wk8kspv23HgfqOClsiaNIkRoncvM9w5b64SzarJDM9q25J7-JXvudIgBi0oRTA_oyR2XS_cAA-RWHIBu9i0UmkZNtSV-YOKjSk/s640/Screenshot-669.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Master</i> <b>- </b>Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>Hmm?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-iP4AMqzhU-SPIZAxNoA8aTHsWtZbh0Fat1XfXGsgyTt_CddCYCBewWL5Mz_cmRIwSWQMdFdKBBvXHyaYE0ZrfboXZO3z3JCEbvgwG_MyBWEqgD6b33_BYGNwXcQEwmQPCFNKKp_hqY/s1600/Screenshot-671.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH-iP4AMqzhU-SPIZAxNoA8aTHsWtZbh0Fat1XfXGsgyTt_CddCYCBewWL5Mz_cmRIwSWQMdFdKBBvXHyaYE0ZrfboXZO3z3JCEbvgwG_MyBWEqgD6b33_BYGNwXcQEwmQPCFNKKp_hqY/s640/Screenshot-671.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Master </i>- </b>My name Hayley, is Turner, Turner Benton<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq_yVpwiGFhmUykBOyjKr_DduhDSwVf72XAoEGoIWTcZLm0BfPy_O8fSPXaAMiwEY2ySY1AAIkc-m5Q3lcD2NEjvpJuKLd-pTfQr4mNM8Qah4lHcmUpGMGX4nUSgn8py3S2FQba7DtJA/s1600/Screenshot-672.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq_yVpwiGFhmUykBOyjKr_DduhDSwVf72XAoEGoIWTcZLm0BfPy_O8fSPXaAMiwEY2ySY1AAIkc-m5Q3lcD2NEjvpJuKLd-pTfQr4mNM8Qah4lHcmUpGMGX4nUSgn8py3S2FQba7DtJA/s640/Screenshot-672.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Turner </i>- </b>You can call me that, when we're alone<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I lean into his hand, closing my eyes as he rubs my cheek, but snap them open when the realization hits<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>You called me Hayley<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> <b>-</b> I did<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This is sign, isn't it? That my plan is working, that he's begun to care<i> </i>for me<b>.</b> If I make him <span style="font-weight: bold;">love</span> me, he will not wish to keep me here against my will and soon I will be free<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Turner </i>-</b> Join me in the hot tub<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It wasn't an order, but it wasn't a question either<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Me </i><b>-</b> I don't have anything<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He raises an eyebrow<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Turner</i> <b>-</b> Do you need to?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3NjleV5rnToIigXX_erpiSgJoyApJ3Z4g2tguLngB6PjHXjObCJJwz87gEFSH3BJZ5FNSS4PI_aQYhWU2Zl3chrryFp0yuL1VSzG7tTLpMmFuwx-1qJCFAYnprRrdJP-rpub8HSCK-k/s1600/Screenshot-543.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ3NjleV5rnToIigXX_erpiSgJoyApJ3Z4g2tguLngB6PjHXjObCJJwz87gEFSH3BJZ5FNSS4PI_aQYhWU2Zl3chrryFp0yuL1VSzG7tTLpMmFuwx-1qJCFAYnprRrdJP-rpub8HSCK-k/s640/Screenshot-543.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I climb into the hot tub next to my master,<b> </b>Turner. I move in close to him so that he puts his arm on me and turn to him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioYM2RZb2wEFd2ZLAutXWckGf2sXh7IuzMbUwevMTLi9kp4NQz6Wj0DwQRdJ537yJ0ssC49Cx9DWQssU3rCyLAU0EsKUS4P4lCOYh2xlDN33bzauw-alMmFi9WVUUl5HaLifV71G5dmiY/s1600/Screenshot-651.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioYM2RZb2wEFd2ZLAutXWckGf2sXh7IuzMbUwevMTLi9kp4NQz6Wj0DwQRdJ537yJ0ssC49Cx9DWQssU3rCyLAU0EsKUS4P4lCOYh2xlDN33bzauw-alMmFi9WVUUl5HaLifV71G5dmiY/s640/Screenshot-651.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">His tongue is hot in my mouth as he kisses me, hungrily, lustfully<b>.</b> I quiver as I feel his hand start to stroke my leg, his fingers brushing along my inner thigh<b>.</b> I raise a suggestive eyebrow and not the slightest surprised that he follows<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjJ2_-IHjiuVIAsZvIOxKRkfOhnqLONfbgRC2ZNYGdUOSsdW8iswcgsrr91wrOEZhVGvg1dYw_93d2oXND5kREz4nr5uzXxXjFKP8hA8-AsoOT3jSO5tcknlK7jyptAX9I-bHprwzjj0/s1600/Screenshot-674.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFjJ2_-IHjiuVIAsZvIOxKRkfOhnqLONfbgRC2ZNYGdUOSsdW8iswcgsrr91wrOEZhVGvg1dYw_93d2oXND5kREz4nr5uzXxXjFKP8hA8-AsoOT3jSO5tcknlK7jyptAX9I-bHprwzjj0/s640/Screenshot-674.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I whisper in his ear what I want<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>At least to try it once<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkzecgwPvIA-HLvEHpkpsiPyBcjSY6IgfosieumofqTu_YL2ymTCY1DURKBF0yomctu8oC1P2qrO3wUHasLDKeTMRu6n9nvgag40P9h1vrHehEjmYY4go7AHZ4DuoB5knf-SoILr8QyRg/s1600/Screenshot-678.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkzecgwPvIA-HLvEHpkpsiPyBcjSY6IgfosieumofqTu_YL2ymTCY1DURKBF0yomctu8oC1P2qrO3wUHasLDKeTMRu6n9nvgag40P9h1vrHehEjmYY4go7AHZ4DuoB5knf-SoILr8QyRg/s640/Screenshot-678.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I close my eyes as he pulls me towards him holding my body against his<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kvKpVBWpXVXsilfflvRn9KOoQgtQSFoXysOCjdIM-U0knpzTWmWyUErxZi1E6KzV_MoedfbYBXREBSTGsUbLhg81zT4kS-hgj2cyXoWRFDBV-DzTVF_1ZOfpz0vNHDdD0va-JRhG4do/s1600/Screenshot-680.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4kvKpVBWpXVXsilfflvRn9KOoQgtQSFoXysOCjdIM-U0knpzTWmWyUErxZi1E6KzV_MoedfbYBXREBSTGsUbLhg81zT4kS-hgj2cyXoWRFDBV-DzTVF_1ZOfpz0vNHDdD0va-JRhG4do/s640/Screenshot-680.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">After a moment, my eyes open and I groan starting to take pleasure in his movements<b>.</b> I can not see him, but I'm sure he is smiling in equal enjoyment<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfBSJ46lvj0qStDcap5PfPM74POMbnInu2hyJXsSlhokqSWlg99SPhuhvbS66ZcPvy_aGcgFmmo0OaxmUEDdeB2wzYPsF75h0QmD9p4fUTRy6WPRsAZRGqaAA7xtw5iCmVkPuGN6iXXQ/s1600/Screenshot-676.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfBSJ46lvj0qStDcap5PfPM74POMbnInu2hyJXsSlhokqSWlg99SPhuhvbS66ZcPvy_aGcgFmmo0OaxmUEDdeB2wzYPsF75h0QmD9p4fUTRy6WPRsAZRGqaAA7xtw5iCmVkPuGN6iXXQ/s640/Screenshot-676.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He has a hand pressed against my breast<b> </b>and I feel his thumb brush across the nipple a couple of times bringing it to attention<b>. </b>His hand moves to the other side repeating until it is hard and pert as well<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1AZUm7q44_8SKINT8EOaj59M7OCprf1cg66dkwGc3i6dv94PsvHQM5PmOave7MX_WBdfpq0nLhveOstOJ8vjtLPx8iSNfoiCaLgaOZgQUjohaJ_gVVXKDHjgcXPu-brp4dYMt1HroBs/s1600/Screenshot-679.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="396" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1AZUm7q44_8SKINT8EOaj59M7OCprf1cg66dkwGc3i6dv94PsvHQM5PmOave7MX_WBdfpq0nLhveOstOJ8vjtLPx8iSNfoiCaLgaOZgQUjohaJ_gVVXKDHjgcXPu-brp4dYMt1HroBs/s640/Screenshot-679.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Satisfied he runs a single finger along my skin moving his way down and sending a shiver though my body<b>.</b> I gasp in surprised pleasure as his fingers explore and he grunts in reply<b>.</b> We continue like this for some time<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>TURNER!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkT0c1T8AwfeVQ6UQRNcsehyQv85kQ9MZG-yXEHtGL1GGq9BvlwniXlU8A-6LcSRT9LXSgwTex7X9HOn9G61lbhQapHiPFXpkYVDJW5ezOq9w5ZjZ_tJjB12aEC32kJYgZ7Md-Cma5w0/s1600/Screenshot-682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGkT0c1T8AwfeVQ6UQRNcsehyQv85kQ9MZG-yXEHtGL1GGq9BvlwniXlU8A-6LcSRT9LXSgwTex7X9HOn9G61lbhQapHiPFXpkYVDJW5ezOq9w5ZjZ_tJjB12aEC32kJYgZ7Md-Cma5w0/s640/Screenshot-682.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He stops<b>, w</b>rapping his arms close around me<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJx2f7e7XuTAhxkHkbRECHgV0s1PYhiRCrcBT6IAmYneMwlVeoZAOog5rhkFTBQtD7cMruAWw87PTvV4H3ZC49Fln0cLkqMnnBYCB4yC0PFJB0NIKKWj4r1qpwBbHMrOXRvjBD8UaDc2w/s1600/Screenshot-683.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJx2f7e7XuTAhxkHkbRECHgV0s1PYhiRCrcBT6IAmYneMwlVeoZAOog5rhkFTBQtD7cMruAWw87PTvV4H3ZC49Fln0cLkqMnnBYCB4yC0PFJB0NIKKWj4r1qpwBbHMrOXRvjBD8UaDc2w/s640/Screenshot-683.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Eyes closed, he gently kisses my cheek<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_GkbJIaHB6efQ0JiBZSvAnkpf7ERJqErG9noJMuNvX9813ZNjMhmmztI8MzYavJm48ZJPpPUaWqIl3Q38wP4Tjte9-HpBjrVYS7eaKwekwqHZXkiFBA6MnUb333DbEt8dWv3LNOYySk/s1600/Screenshot-681.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj_GkbJIaHB6efQ0JiBZSvAnkpf7ERJqErG9noJMuNvX9813ZNjMhmmztI8MzYavJm48ZJPpPUaWqIl3Q38wP4Tjte9-HpBjrVYS7eaKwekwqHZXkiFBA6MnUb333DbEt8dWv3LNOYySk/s640/Screenshot-681.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">The gesture is surprising and sweet, romantic even<b>.</b> I used to have a boyfriend who would hold and kiss me like this, coming up behind me and covering my eyes, telling me to guess who,<b> </b>then kissing my cheek<b>. </b>I don't like Turner reminding me of him,<b> </b>but it also reminds me of my true feelings for my master, the man that stole my life away<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOrIorn6AkuqxsIaHDWVtfmHXS7SdrdMMtZ1jdUjRG7Xq8odHrjKV4Zd5j1Bibpl6yBRbDvKM_7HbVpigZq2mGVEmsbpioCxK65JisGNVLqqwDMkEkasz8gNomTvrO_N8mSjOQu05CDw/s1600/Screenshot-685.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTOrIorn6AkuqxsIaHDWVtfmHXS7SdrdMMtZ1jdUjRG7Xq8odHrjKV4Zd5j1Bibpl6yBRbDvKM_7HbVpigZq2mGVEmsbpioCxK65JisGNVLqqwDMkEkasz8gNomTvrO_N8mSjOQu05CDw/s640/Screenshot-685.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Turning me to face him, he looks into my eyes as he lifts me up and lowers me onto the bed coming down on top of me<b>. </b>He continues to stare into my eyes, bearing down on me as my gasps and moans raise in pitch and volume with each push<b>. </b>I despise, perhaps even hate, him for all he has done to me and taken from me, but god I love his body, the feel of it against mine<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2wo87bfTibkynA1HeJWYeUaAR7sv8lQUY8IR6zIEyjZR8U8SVbePRvV7Gec4TZZlkxmfjFFbhBHLGmuXK3xuoTn1mYndwEIK6z02uLM2w2jlBIyHPuICxK0gD18NsdZxiRJPL0q5wqE/s1600/Screenshot-687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_2wo87bfTibkynA1HeJWYeUaAR7sv8lQUY8IR6zIEyjZR8U8SVbePRvV7Gec4TZZlkxmfjFFbhBHLGmuXK3xuoTn1mYndwEIK6z02uLM2w2jlBIyHPuICxK0gD18NsdZxiRJPL0q5wqE/s640/Screenshot-687.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Changing position, I fluff my hair.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>My turn,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I tease<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyStHro4PR8-xzt8A_DB8MwNxDdY0mT56T48wydRHa0scQkDTDQHKYmTujWyolZnbKCpWVTUl9AI-DNsxCptbxdxgMcBdSPAKI8ZL2ulRZowXxO_BE5VE_pr2kOJOgX-6O3tExTip9QU/s1600/Screenshot-688.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWyStHro4PR8-xzt8A_DB8MwNxDdY0mT56T48wydRHa0scQkDTDQHKYmTujWyolZnbKCpWVTUl9AI-DNsxCptbxdxgMcBdSPAKI8ZL2ulRZowXxO_BE5VE_pr2kOJOgX-6O3tExTip9QU/s640/Screenshot-688.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>-</b> I'm gonna make you scream<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He gave me a cocky half smile<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Turner </i>-</b> Oh really now? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-elUhaAJ5C7AysyFHHqq7Y6CqMXqjwyC64UkBie2NSewfMf6A4l58pfuUgTV7Jp8Wq4vJGPH7KDJE9HcvRXodp4K7QKYwHj1e_HOHuREkGhFJlq0Oe41WHJyFpWVRkkJdDZ3j6Hqbjs/s1600/Screenshot-689.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ-elUhaAJ5C7AysyFHHqq7Y6CqMXqjwyC64UkBie2NSewfMf6A4l58pfuUgTV7Jp8Wq4vJGPH7KDJE9HcvRXodp4K7QKYwHj1e_HOHuREkGhFJlq0Oe41WHJyFpWVRkkJdDZ3j6Hqbjs/s640/Screenshot-689.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I move tauntingly slow at first running my hands along his hard muscular chest and broad shoulders, pleasing him into letting out a moan before quickening<b>.</b> I move faster making him louder, I am glad the rooms are soundproof<b>.</b> I then start to switch several times between fast and slow teasing him farther<b>.</b> Slowing again I look at him and mange to speak<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>Say my name<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He moans<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>- </b>Say it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Another moan<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><b>Me </b>- </i>Say my name Turner<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I quicken my movements once again finally coaxing it out of him<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b style="font-style: italic;">Turner </b><b>-</b> HAYLEY!!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He screams my name as I collapse onto him breathing heavily<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUYRRq-e0JDL25-apk4l4IdOy-YIvXw4nHDSqL0WVHMLfPETvt93LjBdngA8GFlFQQjv_gHROVaIZiUKbfE4hbY3OoF7SdNgLerBxp9ZtoDcDRu-dmXqT_E7c0DooUU8fXIRKKxHjs7c/s1600/Screenshot-691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFUYRRq-e0JDL25-apk4l4IdOy-YIvXw4nHDSqL0WVHMLfPETvt93LjBdngA8GFlFQQjv_gHROVaIZiUKbfE4hbY3OoF7SdNgLerBxp9ZtoDcDRu-dmXqT_E7c0DooUU8fXIRKKxHjs7c/s640/Screenshot-691.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Rolling to one side of him<b> </b>I rest my head on his shoulder closing my eyes for a moment while he puts an arm around me<b>.</b> I laugh<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Me </i>-</b>Told you I would make you scream<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">He responds with a kiss<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1181753349499192728.post-55213853411266816162011-08-24T21:38:00.000-07:002011-08-25T09:35:48.458-07:00Chapter Five<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Grant's P<i>.</i>O<i>.</i>V<i>.</i></b></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wkSXVkvVo409HD4v-oYK2-7LeWzKjIfkd7CU1yV3Ojo16oEGtgQ9N921s757lI70f5j1s5eCRfckj_XzcOBnymF6nGVGRQwUEUGodezXf5rtQcslctEs6r07aDoEWpaaIbBiNE6z7w4/s1600/Screenshot-588.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wkSXVkvVo409HD4v-oYK2-7LeWzKjIfkd7CU1yV3Ojo16oEGtgQ9N921s757lI70f5j1s5eCRfckj_XzcOBnymF6nGVGRQwUEUGodezXf5rtQcslctEs6r07aDoEWpaaIbBiNE6z7w4/s640/Screenshot-588.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">I asked the boss what he thought of my plans<b>. </b>Things are going to be different<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUCmWXPF0gCdpUXxf4e2wvKK0FHjzQCIW3auBfvq8diiyQq6QaiaoklPIeP9SH_IxILbVgvNDfddiMGoetZRxxosbzWtTeeKQRuSOs_N_FYmrb7cpekihJVHXSIO-jUcuLbLGqjQNJ9I/s1600/Screenshot-591.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIUCmWXPF0gCdpUXxf4e2wvKK0FHjzQCIW3auBfvq8diiyQq6QaiaoklPIeP9SH_IxILbVgvNDfddiMGoetZRxxosbzWtTeeKQRuSOs_N_FYmrb7cpekihJVHXSIO-jUcuLbLGqjQNJ9I/s640/Screenshot-591.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Making a few stops after work, I was headed home planning to call my girl when I got there<b>.</b> I hadn't decided where I was going to have her meet me, but seeing her at the Bistro, I figure that's as good a place as any<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgu2FJE5AvqO2AyFwNlirGIGVL6J0W28BX1woD_DZP_taCd6EFdewvLWVKTiy2vVQohD62X4MfTvtpfUQf1ZXiP62qfkICmKtZiUIKklAAAm81jr8ynk_UQ0_HILfbrfuR-eTt9rWo0o/s1600/Screenshot-592.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLgu2FJE5AvqO2AyFwNlirGIGVL6J0W28BX1woD_DZP_taCd6EFdewvLWVKTiy2vVQohD62X4MfTvtpfUQf1ZXiP62qfkICmKtZiUIKklAAAm81jr8ynk_UQ0_HILfbrfuR-eTt9rWo0o/s640/Screenshot-592.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">God, she is just gorgeous<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIb93rsfhmAXtR7eXNUYYvXta2LBbu2dM8cD2ttmH_jpZ-NqppZq148MC6NtxF-Fyg0vqPqvFxhSKuO39HO-j3owdqUivd6ZsQJr4HOS8vRGG-1M7UMWvD2GKjXmhwIdTzRlXBoyV4QPI/s1600/Screenshot-596.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIb93rsfhmAXtR7eXNUYYvXta2LBbu2dM8cD2ttmH_jpZ-NqppZq148MC6NtxF-Fyg0vqPqvFxhSKuO39HO-j3owdqUivd6ZsQJr4HOS8vRGG-1M7UMWvD2GKjXmhwIdTzRlXBoyV4QPI/s640/Screenshot-596.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>-</b> Rylie, I was going to call you<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Rylie </i>- </b>Oh?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>- </b>Yes. I was going to ask you to meet me somewhere<b>.</b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Not surprisingly, she laughs<b>. </b></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Rylie</i> - I see. Well then since we are here, shall we eat?</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>-</b> In a moment, but first, I have something for you<b>.</b> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleaYAg1HpIvv4aFWnHRYzBKUzNYsSd_frSWo434uw8N8FN49T_fNGmczQk7D_PJO2m6m1WwxNc1CskDhEgVX6gqKMBcafcEk-LBdttDNrciSIsCCdijwQp2Tn9mIYVtKnh7LX8-US1po/s1600/Screenshot-593.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhleaYAg1HpIvv4aFWnHRYzBKUzNYsSd_frSWo434uw8N8FN49T_fNGmczQk7D_PJO2m6m1WwxNc1CskDhEgVX6gqKMBcafcEk-LBdttDNrciSIsCCdijwQp2Tn9mIYVtKnh7LX8-US1po/s640/Screenshot-593.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Rylie</i> - </b>Awe<b>. </b>You are to good to me Grant Anderson<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>- </b>Impossible<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlUSG51OQOTacaN6ttggFzKmTqkAjiQF1MR2q85g1CAjrOhKF64c4wFxKyASqjYQfl_yQaPl7of_ND7aIagZgiUePX7bo5IxjLWzn8WuxSr7FQ0rMpczQg9BkJrGI75Sa46P_4HMIJO68/s1600/Screenshot-597.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlUSG51OQOTacaN6ttggFzKmTqkAjiQF1MR2q85g1CAjrOhKF64c4wFxKyASqjYQfl_yQaPl7of_ND7aIagZgiUePX7bo5IxjLWzn8WuxSr7FQ0rMpczQg9BkJrGI75Sa46P_4HMIJO68/s640/Screenshot-597.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>-</b> I'm glad that you were here<b>. </b>I have something really important to talk to you about<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgis_YIJg5sWGFL6Vgc3JrC2e2UpEE8nH9DBnBvcnhyphenhyphenpDTQe5cvZkVyTHdZtYsJ1nmxeTMgxKbIirMrGwnzGS-W-c8rNulptK0Mvpu_Uv30BipNTVi4ZVDYIpBj_Fm_5jXeeoua3fKef-0/s1600/Screenshot-599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgis_YIJg5sWGFL6Vgc3JrC2e2UpEE8nH9DBnBvcnhyphenhyphenpDTQe5cvZkVyTHdZtYsJ1nmxeTMgxKbIirMrGwnzGS-W-c8rNulptK0Mvpu_Uv30BipNTVi4ZVDYIpBj_Fm_5jXeeoua3fKef-0/s640/Screenshot-599.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was dark by the time we finished eating<b>. </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant</i>- </b>I love you Rylie<b>.</b> You're my world<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4vjw0JA5l4dYko2wMbEf9iqIrEdxsG3VQCTR_AH3f9EroMCR8HwfZU-OZ6PQzTAmaEt63Znwk1VbtcZtTNMKkLL26tAmlbDnTuL0eNx1oFA2umiAS2Q8HtkQpTsrn42UmMYsFvpZzFg/s1600/Screenshot-600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD4vjw0JA5l4dYko2wMbEf9iqIrEdxsG3VQCTR_AH3f9EroMCR8HwfZU-OZ6PQzTAmaEt63Znwk1VbtcZtTNMKkLL26tAmlbDnTuL0eNx1oFA2umiAS2Q8HtkQpTsrn42UmMYsFvpZzFg/s640/Screenshot-600.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Rylie </i>-</b> Grant I<b>...</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Grant</i><i> </i><b>- </b>Wait, I'm not done.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYKxdf4VZ97JxXTuY9Syx9ZBhTIoMgY6urVt4Puz09olrNzk0TL6Jmlg4jEhEpojK1-SY91ZgF1bC98TJM5KJIcvFqWhsxfImTqr7P69mCda5FTvfbPqyHLWBbF0cgUYQ0LTTqjNkjXk/s1600/Screenshot-601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHYKxdf4VZ97JxXTuY9Syx9ZBhTIoMgY6urVt4Puz09olrNzk0TL6Jmlg4jEhEpojK1-SY91ZgF1bC98TJM5KJIcvFqWhsxfImTqr7P69mCda5FTvfbPqyHLWBbF0cgUYQ0LTTqjNkjXk/s640/Screenshot-601.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Grant</i><span style="font-weight: bold;"> - </span>Will you<span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span>marry me Rylie Taylor?</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeSQ6j259gq1UiTvVdsNTw7pC8V2tkPBMTnHuyCbOzJxx4iG-ghw6za2ZVWkGNque9C0hmPHjoSZxE6XxlUI8-0F7tLEKwpgFbRdvNg87O-Ir8t39ztWr0m_g2OT1smmYZcqQ9tZKeBI/s1600/Screenshot-603.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeeSQ6j259gq1UiTvVdsNTw7pC8V2tkPBMTnHuyCbOzJxx4iG-ghw6za2ZVWkGNque9C0hmPHjoSZxE6XxlUI8-0F7tLEKwpgFbRdvNg87O-Ir8t39ztWr0m_g2OT1smmYZcqQ9tZKeBI/s640/Screenshot-603.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Rylie </i>-</b> Grant, I don't know what to say<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Grant </i>-</b> I was kind of hoping for yes<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1kHVz4L1_Lfs3aODNLc32ZSay-diyBCfmS06-Aba_p1d6Ot8M31k38v88AadY-UUc0BaKXi4S_2m-qRae8RLgrMaGIZHMRxGo0O4rPjbVS1LaezpTyP_BzcxPxvEDdbKHXOxPovLEnU/s1600/Screenshot-604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz1kHVz4L1_Lfs3aODNLc32ZSay-diyBCfmS06-Aba_p1d6Ot8M31k38v88AadY-UUc0BaKXi4S_2m-qRae8RLgrMaGIZHMRxGo0O4rPjbVS1LaezpTyP_BzcxPxvEDdbKHXOxPovLEnU/s640/Screenshot-604.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Rylie </i>-</b> Yes, yes Grant, of course<b>.</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>~AddyKat~http://www.blogger.com/profile/09739436705443046954noreply@blogger.com5