Jay was scheduled to arrive later that night, and I was counting down the minutes.
I had written back to him, summarizing our new houseguest. On the one hand Lucy and Becca had a talent for finding out the truth, but that did not change the fact they were both self-centered thots.
'Lucy seems decent enough,' his reply was short and quick since he was texting while still on set. "If in doubt call 911."
'About our uninvited house guest or my terminally ill father?' There was no reply, at least not right away. I would have given anything for a lol' or even an emoji. Whatever.'
Throughout the day, my dad was still having seizures. These were times when his mind started to leave, only to be jolted back. At least he didn't appear to be in any pain.
Nurse Lucy had taken him to the garden to watch the butterflies and smoke weed while talking about the past. She coaxed out information that I hadn't even been aware of.
My father had suffered a stroke. He was put on blood thinners but that made the pain in his head so much worse. He'd been unable to write or draw or even think. And that was why he went off them, replacing them with a steady diet of narcotics.
Becca, still annoyingly pregnant, jumped on my back. "Are you spying on my girlfriend?"
"Your girlfriend with a medical degree?"
"Age ain't nothing but a number," she said, still on my back. She kissed my cheek and hopped off. "Have you heard of the movie 'Still Alice'?" Becca asked as she opened a box of protein bars.
"I think it was based on a book," I said, just as I heard a ping from my phone. Jay's flight was delayed due to an oncoming storm. No aircraft were permitted to leave, not even chartered flights on personal planes.
"Wow, impressive."
"I got to watch a lot of television."
"Living in your pimp's basement," she said with a nod.
I shoved her off, making sure she landed on her feet. "The book was written by an actual brain surgeon or something like that. What's your point?"
"Your father is sick, but he's not suffering."
"You think that's the only pinecone up my ass?" I immediately regretted my choice of metaphor.
She raised an eyebrow, "Gross."
"I'm sure you know a lot about that."
"Certainly, more than you know about your dad."
`Are you fucking kidding me?' My anger was boiling. She had no right. "He needs to be in a hospital."
"No one should have to die in a hospital." Becca handed me a bar and motioned for me to take a seat. "In the movie the lead character gives herself a series of questions to answer every morning. the day she can't is the day she knows her illness has won."
"Ok?" Was she seriously talking about medically induced suicide?
"My point is, only the patient gets to choose," she patted my hand.
"Well, that's not fair." My words made no sense. Unfair to whom?
Becca nodded, temporarily giving up on her attempt to educate me. "I'm going to get him back inside."
"Yeah, sure," I said from my seat. "That sounds like a plan." I watched as Becca joined them, talking and flirting with both my dad and Lucy. I'm sure they had sex. That seemed to be Lucy's main skill. but I was too preoccupied to give it much thought.
My phone continued to ping. Jay's flight was not leaving anytime soon. He was actively searching for alternate solutions. `Fuck my life.'
That night my father had another episode and it was a bad one. I had heard the term violent seizure. I always pictured someone who looked to be choking on their own tongue. That's not what I saw. His entire body was struggling. His throat spasmed while his lungs forced themselves to try to remember how to breathe. He was covered in sweat.
Lucy positioned his body on the bed. "Let's give him a few minutes, see if it'll pass on its own."
`A seizure? Was she fucking insane?' Regardless of what my father wanted, Becca, Lucy and I agreed, that we needed to call 911. By the time the ambulance arrived My father had slipped into a coma.
I wanted to stay with him, but somehow Lucy managed to talk her way onto the ambulance, insisting on having Becca follow behind in one of her father's cars.
I almost didn't want to go. I stood, leaning against the door with my arms crossed. "I'm just staying here."
"Like hell you are." Becca, with a surprising amount if strength, forced me into the late-model BMW. By the time we arrived, he was given an IV line of wide-spectrum antibiotics for fever.
As his only family, I was given medical power of attorney. This amounted to me fielding questions while Lucy and Becca talked over me.
"There is a need for a decision." Tracheotomy or putting a tube down his throat. Apparently, those were my two choices, and I had to decide quickly since other means of oxygen delivery were not proving effective.
"I'll go with a trach," I replied forcing myself to choke back my tears. Apparently, I had overdone my attempt at confidence, resulting in the women glaring daggers at me.
"You'll go with a trach?" Lucy crossed her arms in disgust. "Would you like fries with that?"
I could not believe what I was hearing. "Fuck off, Becca!" I went with the option of cutting a hole in my father's throat because that would allow him to eventually go home. (Hopefully, maybe. I honestly had no idea.)
My father's hands were trembling. I wanted to reach for him, but I also urgently needed to not be in the same room as Becca.
I escaped to the hallway floor. In too much pain to stand, I sobbed, crying out any and all tears until I felt the strength to pick up my phone.
I knew what airport Jay was going to. or at least I thought I did. I took an Uber to JFK, paying way more than I should have.
I was using Jay's account, so at least I wouldn't get stranded.
'update: I got a flight into Portland.'
'Maine?' I replied. Of the two famous cities by that name, Maine was slightly more convenient.
'I could catch a flight into JFK.'
'or I could meet you there.'
'That's at least a seven-hour bus ride.'
"Are you going to arrive before then?"
There was a long pause, the kind that coaxes a series of dots. Jay was typing, deleting, and typing again until he settled on a message. 'What's wrong with your father?'
'another seizure. in hospital. in coma.'
Jay sent me his flight information; he had three connecting flights to get him back to the USA. So I actually had more than enough time. and I'd rather be alone than at the hospital (or anywhere near Becca.)
I took a cab down to the bus station. In an effort to not face Becca and Lucy, I didn't discuss my plan, nor did I research if any busses ran this late at night. "Fuck it, I'll just sleep here."
My chest ached. I wanted to end it all. "How fucking hilarious would it be if I died out here?"
There was silence, time passed in slow-motion as the world seemed to screech to a halt.
"Screeeeeeech." This was followed by a honk.
I sat up to see an unlabeled truck. Not that a Pepsi truck or a Walmart truck would have made this any less creepy.
A figure with long wavy hair stepped out. "Are you alright, kid?" his voice was like a calm sexy surfer returning home from a day of catching waves.
"Yeah, I'm just a little tired."
"Where're you headed?"
"Portland International Jetport"
"Maine?"
"Yes, the one in Maine," I said, a little more aggressive then intended.
"Yeah, I assumed as much." Leo smirked like an anime character. "You're just a long way from Portland."
"Sorry." I attempted to regain my composure. "I'm trying to meet up with my friend in Portland."
"Need a ride?"
"You're headed to Portland?" This all seemed too convenient to be true.
The man walked over and shook my hand. "The name's Leo."
"I'm Marcus." I sat up to get a better look at him. The man was 5'9", maybe taller, but not taller than myself. (I was confident I could take him down if I needed to.) "Are you offering me a ride?"
"It's what Jesus would do." The man's long hair and bright smile seemed to play into the joke. "But only if you're comfortable. I could tell you I'm not a serial killer, but you really have no way of knowing."
"Unless I have a death wish?" I gathered my bag and sat in the passenger seat.
"Tell me about yourself?" he said, checking his mirrors.
"Take me to Maine, murder me on the side of the road: it doesn't really matter."
"Wow." He started the engine, pulling back out onto the highway. "Tell me about it? Fine I'll start with an easier question; who's waiting for you in Maine?"
I told him the story of my pathetic life; my dying father, my junkie con artist mother, my slutty bi-sexual girlfriend, and of course my savior. "Jayden Lorri."
"THE Jayden Lorri? Holy fuck, man. I heard he's going to try pro-wrestling."
I had not heard that, but I agreed anything was possible when it came to Jay.
"That's probably the closest I'm going to get to seeing him in porn.
"I'm almost positive he's done porn."
"Leaked sex tapes are not porn."
The level of confidence with which he spoke those words caused my brain to freeze. For a moment I questioned reality. "I'm pretty sure they are."
"What's your definition of a sex tape?"
"A recording of a sex act?"
"Really? That's kind of vague, don't you think?"
I could see where he was coming from; a leaked sex tape was, more often than not, a study of revenge. "Jay has done actual porn. I just watched something on the dark web."
"Ah, dark web, that's what you were referring to."
My mouth hung open for a moment. What I had watched was viewable by invite only. "I guess."
"Do you want to talk some more or just sleep?"
"I think I want to sleep for a while."
"Fair enough." Leo removed a rubber band from his wrist, pulling his hair back. placing a pair of sunglasses on his forehead like a fashion accessory (given the time of night.)
I shut my eyes, leaning against the door. On the window, I could see a collage of pictures. "You got a man in every port?"
"Just about."
"You a serial killer?"
"I'm an agent for lost souls in need of comfort."
I chuckled and closed my eyes. I drifted off to a dreamless sleep. The darkness felt nice; a peaceful pause button, not unlike death itself. I would have been perfectly fine to sleep on my way to my fate. (Yes, murder was still on my mind.)
And then I heard familiar sounds. I slowly blinked my eyes. Leo was driving with one hand while jerking off with the other. the sunglasses over his eyes did little to hide the joy he was experiencing.
I placed my hand on his wrist, moving as gently as possible to avoid startling the person driving the multi-ton vehicle. "Do you want me to do it?"
His lips parted as he gasped for a single intense breath. "I want you to want to do it."
"Are you going to pullover, or?"
"Nah, I gotta make good time."
I was game. "So, you can drive while I?" I motioned to the space between his legs. There was actually quite a bit of room, although I was still terrified of accidentally hitting something that would send the vehicle careening off the road.
"I could drive this thing in my sleep." He motioned for me to begin without him even stopping. His uncut cock was big, thick, pressed against his stomach. He was going to finish with or without me.
I had done this before, but never in a moving truck. It took some careful maneuvering, but I soon found myself between his legs. To suck him off was a challenge. He was big, almost too big. I had little to no gag reflex, but his sheer size was making it hard to breathe. I just had to let him fuck my throat and hope I survived. His hand gripped the back of my neck, guiding me, holding me in place.
My hands had been gripping his chair. (This was to keep me in place.) But now that I found my pace, I was addicted. I moved one hand to his belt, hurling it from his body. The end of the leather strip hit me in the face with a satisfying smack.
I felt Leo make a turn. He was parking. Soon the engine was safely turned off. "I'm still one hell of a driver," Leo said as he tugged at my scalp. "But I could see myself running some drunk asshole off the road."
I took him down my throat, holding my breath as he choked me, gagged me. But before he could finish, he pulled my hair, motioning for me to sit on his lap. We kissed, locking our mouths together, united by our breath. I removed my shirt, as Leo went after my pants. Soon I was naked in his arms, completely at his mercy.
Leo carried me out the passenger door. With an incredible amount of strength, he slammed me against the truck. Kissing me as we fucked. He lifted my leg, nearly pulling me off my feet.
I gripped his back, if only to keep my balance. That was when I found something that I was not meant to see. there was a growth, a hard protrusion like an antler. A bone? No, it felt like a wing.
That was when he punched me in the face. "That's how you like it, right?" he cupped my face, pulling me close for a passionate, terrifying kiss.
I didn't believe in angels. There was never a reason to. But as he forced himself inside me, lifting my legs around his hips, I had a unique realization.
"Answer me," he breathed hard onto my neck. His voice was filled with rage but not actual anger. "Do you need me to hit you again? Maybe call you a bitch? Is that what you want, Marcus?"
I didn't believe in the idea of loving, patronizing angels. The kind who sat upon Christmas trees, granted wishes, or answered prayers. Those were fakes. The slender, sexy Jesus tearing open my insides with his monster of a cock; this was real, this was true power, what dreams are made of. His wings rose higher than his shoulders, covering us like a protective shell.
There was no darkness, only light. Leo placed his lips to mine. He took a deep breath, leaning his head back.
I leaned in close, burying my face in his chest. Leo's heart was pounding. He climaxed over and over filling my ass with his limitless seed. My muscles clenched, and I felt a wave of intense orgasm. I needed to hold on to him; to take it all in.
Leo lowered me to the ground as he finished. He wrapped us bodies shielding us from the cold for a moment. I closed my eyes.
I don't know what I was expecting but I awoke back in the passenger seat. The truck was driving down the road, making good time.
We arrived at the airport just after sunrise. Leo pulled into the area meant for busses, allowing him to comfortably move to the side. "Did you sleep well?"
"Yeah, pretty good. I guess."
"I've been told that my truck can cause some pretty vivid dreams." Leo opened the door, helping me to the sidewalk. "I have to head back out. Give me a call when our friend arrives. If I'm still in the area I'll give you a ride." He picked up his phone and unlocked it. Holding my hand, he pressed my finger to his phone. This caused my own device to ring from inside my jacket. He had somehow transferred me his number.
"Sure. thanks." The airport was small. I took a seat by the arrivals gate, knowing there was no way I'd miss Jay (or any arriving planes.) Once again, I fell asleep across a row of chairs, making sure to rest with my phone directly under my head. My mind drifted to thoughts of the basement. First the one in Jay's house; my warm safe place where I had everything I could ever want, but nothing I deserved. In the darkness, I could see my pimp mother. She sat in a lawn chair, kicking up her legs like a supermodel.
"Hi, mom."
She glanced up from her tablet just long enough to lock eyes with me. Suddenly I was wrapped in chains. My arms, my legs, stomach, and chest; the metal multiplied, pulling me into the darkness.
"You're so weak," she said in a crackly voice. My mother had been a smoker but this creature's sound was like radio static. "I should have killed you when I had the chance. "The only reason I kept you was to torture your father. You know that right?" She laughed. "You could have escaped at any time."
"I was a kid."
My mother shook her head, smiling with her elegant beauty queen lips. "You still are."
I awoke to the sound of 'W.A.P by Cardi B.' (Yes, that was the song I had set for Jay's ringtone.)
"Interesting choice," Jay said from the seat next to me. He was holding his phone having dialed my number. Jay chuckled as he placed his hand on my cheek, patting my face with his cold hand.
"Jay?" There was a real possibility I was dreaming.
"Jay died on the way over here," he replied calmly as he checked his text messages.
I shot to my feet, nearly falling backward.
Jay laughed. "I'm kidding. Are you alright?"
I shook my head. "Sorry. I'm just tired."
"You awake enough to call for a ride?"
"Yeah," I replied. I dusted myself off as I looked around for my phone. "I got that covered."