Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 56 (adult)

Though it was getting toward dark when John arrived at Statesville, the warden was there to greet him. "Lieutenant, I know Testa was your informant, so I wanted to let you know right away."  The man began walking, and John followed.

John said, "What happened?"

As they went through the passageways that lead to the cell block where he and Mitch had resided, the warden continued, "He had a heart attack.  Not clear what caused it, but he does have a little fresh wound on his forearm.  Not sure where it came from."

He unlocked the cell block gate, and they entered, and as they neared Testa's cell, John could see the yellow caution tape.  Mitch had been removed, or at least, he assumed so.  

On the cot, was Testa, white with death and a drying blood stain on his right forearm.  "What's this?"  he pointed to it.

The forensics team was working around the cell, and one stood up.  "It's a bug bite."

John, remembering back to the warden's words from his first meeting with Testa, said, "A bug bite?  The guy's majorly phobic."

Another member of the team stood up, with a small vial in his hand.  Showing John he said, "This guy."

John looked at a beetle, about as long as his thumb was wide, brown and black, with pinchers on the top, walking around the bottom of the plastic container.  "What is that?"

"Dermestidae Anthreninae.  Dermestid beetle.  Carnivorous."  

"Is he dead from the bug bites, or from something else?"  John asked, handing the vial back.

"The bugs have no venom, if that's what you are asking.  But, he died indirectly from the bites, since we can estimate that the bugs came, bit him, and then he died of a heart attack minutes later.  He was found by his cellmate when he returned from the infirmary."

"The infirmary?"

The warden stepped in.  "Laurence had an appointment in the infirmary today."

John said nothing.  "How many bites?"

"There were only four.  The fourth one he never knew about.  The blood flow was considerably different.  He probably received that fourth bite after death."

John swallowed.  The guy died of fright.  Before this day, I never would have given worth to the idea.  Bugs.

"What did Laurence say?"

"Not much.  Just that he found him there, and couldn't wake him."

John again said nothing.  He looked around the cell, and then said "Where's Laurence now?"

"In a holding area.  For questioning.  Thought you might like to take a stab at that."  The warden looked extremely serious.

The bug specialist said, "You have to call an exterminator.  Those bugs will reproduce and they do bite.  The bite is harmless, but it won't be pretty."

The warden rolled his eyes.  "Let the inmates fight them off," and walked off.  

John, not surprised at the statement, followed the man, putting his hands into his jacket pockets.

***

"Jack seem okay to you?"  Todd asked Blair.

"He seems okay, sure.  Why?"

"I don't know," he said, putting a log on the fire in their room, "he was a little, I don't know, bothered or something earlier."

"Distracted?"

"Maybe that's it."

"That's a teenage boy.  You ought to know about that.  You were one."

He sat next to her, and she put her hand over his and interlocked her fingers with his.  He said, "I can't judge anyone's teen years by mine.  Most of the time, I was in some kind of angry stupor trying to hide everything and ignore my pain.  You know that."

She said, "I'm sorry, I know.  There's no comparison between your life and Jack's.  I forget sometimes, which is good, I guess."  She played with his hand, "I hope you forget sometimes, Todd."

He didn't answer her.  Instead, he looked into the fire.

She said, "It's sad, isn't it?"

He looked at her, "What do you mean?"

"What you've been through.  Since day one.  You've never caught a break, Todd."

He didn't answer.

She took a strand of his hair in her fingers, "Not once.  No one cut you any slack, and no one helped.  All that time.  Sam Rappaport was the closest and he didn't really do much either.  You never had . . . what you deserve.  What everyone does."

She saw him swallow.  He turned to her and he said, "I caught a break."

"You did?  Then tell me about it because all I can think of is pain, since you were a little boy."

He lifted his free hand, and touched the top of her head, and then moving it to her cheek, he said, "When I met you.  When I touched you, and you touched me.  When I fell in love with you.  When you carried my children.  Those were all my luckiest breaks."

Listening to him, her eyes brimmed with water.  She said, "Oh, Todd.  That's beautiful.  Even though it's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant.  You're right.  No one gave me a break.  Just you, Blair.  You were the only one, even when I didn't deserve one.  And maybe Little Sam."

"He was your only friend at one point.  Remember?"

"He was."  He looked back into the fireplace.  "Just like you were, once."

"I remember.  You were mine, too.  Christmas,"  she smiled.

"Yep.  You still don't realize what that Christmas gift meant to me, do you?"

"I don't know.  It meant a lot to me, too.  Just different."

"It meant everything to me.  Someone would touch me again, not be afraid of me, let me touch them.  That meant a lot more than you can know.  Still does, Babe."

"I guess I keep thinking that if someone had reached out to you, or saved you from all that, earlier, you might not have had a reason to be that way.  You know, all alone in the world."

He turned back to her, "Yeah.  Right.  But then, I wouldn't have found my world in you."

"And where would I be without my hero?"  She said, letting go of his hand at last, and touching his ears.

He said, "You're a tough cookie.  You'd make it."

She teared up again, "No, Todd.  No.  Nothing would be the same."

He said, "I don't want you crying over any of this.  You've done enough crying."

She tried to hold her tears back, "I know, but when I think of you, as a little boy, like Sam . . ."

He put his finger to her lips.  He said, "Don't think of that.  Just think of us, now."

"Do you think of it?"

"Sometimes.  But then, I think of how Jack looks when he sees us together, you know that embarrassed face?  Or Starr, when she got in trouble for harassing Max?  Or how Little Ray's hand curls around my finger, or he rests on me like a sack of flour, and it all goes away.  And if those don't work . . ."

She looked down, and her tears came.  He lifted her chin, and set her eyes across from his, "If those don't work, I just disappear into you.  You, calling my name in anger dangling off the Chamber of Commerce building.  You, coming to find me in the blizzard.  You, letting me inside you, and holding me," he moved forward to kiss her, and she took his face with both of her hands.

"Todd," she whispered, "I love you so very much."

"I love you so very much," he said, pushing her backward, and kissing her intensely.  

She opened her mouth to him, and felt his tongue against hers.  He put his hand inside the top of her shirt, and stroked the tops of her breasts lightly with his fingers.  Sliding his hand under one cup of her bra, he put her nipple between his two fingers and tugged at it gently.  She arched up toward him, and undid his shirt buttons, starting at the neck.  Still kissing her, he gently pulled the bottom edge of her top out of her pants, and rubbed his hand along her abdomen.  

He stopped and said, "My lucky break," and lifted her shirt off.  

She reached around her own back and unfastening her bra, let her breasts fall free.  His hands both went to them immediately, caressing them, and his mouth went to her neck.  He stopped a minute, and looked up.  "Let me get out of these pants."

She said, "Me, too."

Both sat up, swung their legs over the couch, and slipped their pants off, laughing lightly in the near-dark.  Looking at the slightly-ajar door, he said, "Kids," and went to close it.  Watching him in the firelight, she licked her lips, and pulling off her shoes and socks, she pulled her knees up close to her and rested her chin on them, looking at his taut, toned physique as he shut their door.  

He dimmed the side lights even more, so that just the firelight was bathing his body and hers, and without warning, she got up and raced to him, jumping up to be caught, and somehow, he caught her, as his lips caught hers.  Her center was resting right over him, and she could feel him rock hard and strong, pushing against her panties.  He deliberately rubbed himself against her, but kept her just hovering against the tip of him.  This drove her wild, and she urged him on.  

He lowered her feet to the floor again, kissing her with depth and passion, and putting his hands along her bottom to pull her closer to him.  She stood with her toes between his, and he pulled her panties off.  In their silkiness, they slid to the floor, and he lifted her again.  This time, he let her lower onto him and she felt him slide all the way inside her.  She threw her head back, closing her eyes, and repeated his name.  He kissed her neck, under her chin, and tongued her earlobe, as he walked them to the bed.  

Laying her down gently, he fell free of her, but within seconds joined with her again, lifting her legs so that her calves were resting on his strong shoulders.  She watched him, over her, moving in circles and strong thrusts, his beautiful body silhouetted by the firelight behind him.  He ran his masculine hand down her body, and rested it on her sleek abdomen, glistening with sweat, before he turned it slightly and his thumb found her.  He spoke in hushed tones to her, and touched her where she longed to be touched, until she cried out in pleasure.  Hearing her cries, he stopped, and brought her legs gently down.  Laying himself over her, and holding himself still inside, he watched her bask.  Then, he said, "hold on to me."   She did, and he rolled them and brought her to sitting over him.  

She said, "I know what you want," and began to move, slowly at first.

He fixed his eyes on hers, his voice deep, soft, sexy: "Yeah?  What do I want?"

She said, "This," and changed her speed and angle, watching his face react with desire.  He reached for her nipples, and fondled them.  She knew him.  Every look, and what each meant, every want, and how to make it right for him.  "Like that?"

"Yeah, that," he whispered.  "Don't stop.  God, don't . . ."

"And this," she said, leaning forward against him, and pulling herself tight around him as she moved, fast and rhythmic, "right?"  

Desperately, he put his hand to the back of her head, and pulled her face closer to him, putting his tongue into her mouth, and at the same time, moaned and let go inside her.  His muscles tightened and his voice was like music.  Then, "Blair," softly.

"Todd," she said in response.  She sat back up to watch him, straddling him.  His eyes were closed, his expression relishing the feeling of his release.  She held onto the sensation of him filling and gently pulsing inside her.

After a few quiet minutes, he said, "Blair.  Come here," reaching out to bring her onto his chest again.  He wrapped both arms around her, and held her close to him.  She could feel his heart beating rapidly in his chest, and his breathing against the top of her head, and loved them both.

"I'm right here," she said, "and not going anywhere else."

"Lucky break," he said, and shut his eyes.
    
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