Sanity’s Secret

A Circle of Sanity Novella

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever

without the express written permission of the publisher

except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Acknowledgments:

I hope you, my readers, enjoy this little jaunt on the dark side.

Seven secrets, and two love stories that weren’t meant to be.

Not everything is as it seems.

My books are the only things you should judge by the cover.

To My Love, who couldn’t read this one while editing. It was too disturbing. I still love you anyway.

As always, to my children who believe in me, even though more than half of them are too young to read my books.

To my best friend Veronica, from diapers to diapers, you will always be my girl!

Prologue

Rika

Winding down the long driveway, barbed wire and concrete growing up from the distance, my palms sweat, and my heart races. The signs inform, rather than welcome, to the secure facility. I provide the armed guard my identification and step out of my vehicle, so it may be searched. I’ve never broken the law in my whole life, aside from speeding a time or two, but I feel like a criminal right now. My face flushes as the handsome guard opens a box of tampons in my glove box. If you’re a criminal and think tampons would be the ideal place to hide contraband, you’d be wrong.

I don’t know what I thought a pat down would be like, but having my bra pulled out and my breasts groped was a surprise, as was the palming of my pink parts. I have always covered discomfort with humor, so I winked at the guard. She was not amused.

I am not a particularly scary or threatening person, but two guards nonetheless escort me to the man in charge. His tone is clipped, his spine steel, and I am certain if a smile ever graced this man’s face, it hasn’t happened in at least three decades. He leans hard on his elbows glaring at me on the other side of the desk.

“Miss Lang, do you know what you are walking into? That man is one sick son of a bitch.” I nod. The truth is, I have no idea what I am walking into.

The sick son of a bitch (as he is called) and I went to high school together. I always thought he was handsome. It turns out, he’s a monster. He granted only one request for an interview. I didn’t make the request, my newspaper did. My boss spent three days preparing me for this task. Journalism isn’t even my day job. Why he chose me to be the lucky recipient of his prison exclusive is unfathomable. While I am clearly terrified to be here, I can’t neglect the thoughts in the back of my mind. If I nail this, journalism could become my day job.

My tablet was approved, but my stylus was replaced with one that has a round tip rather than a sharp pencil type. The handsome boy I once stared at through homeroom is now too dangerous to be near a pointy stylus. It’s surreal.

I am also permitted a recording device. After a safety briefing, I am lead to an interview room. Outside the room, I get my first look at him. He is shackled and sitting on the floor in the hallway. His forearms on his knees, his head down, and the orange of his Department of Corrections jumpsuit glaringly bright on the gray hallway. He looks broken. One could feel sorry for him, if one didn’t know the heinous manner of his crimes.

I take my seat at the cold metal table. I am not certain if it is actually cold in here, or if it is the overall impression of this place. However, goosebumps raise up my arms, and I suppress a shudder. He is lead in with small steps to accommodate his shackled ankles. Once he is seated, his hands are freed from the waist tether, and his feet are secured to the chair which is bolted to the floor. He places his cuffed wrists on the table. His gaze travels up my body pausing briefly at my neck, before locking with my eyes, a smile stretching his face. That smile used to melt my panties; now it makes my skin crawl. Has his smile changed, or has my opinion?

“Well, well, well, Veronica Lang, look at you all grown up. Is it still Lang?” He knows damn well that is my name. He asked my boss for me personally, by name. He is trying to shake me. Bob, my boss, told me he would try to manipulate and control me, but I need to keep the focus on him.

I nod curtly. “Miss Lang or Rika will be fine.” He smiles again, and I am certain the heart stopping smile that he once had is gone. He just looks sinister now.

“Okay Rika, where should we begin?”

I feign assertiveness, “First, state your name for the record.”

He glances to the recording device, and his smile drops to a scowl. “Very well, I am Liam Lancaster. Which beginning would you like to begin with, Rika?”

I hate how he says my name; it sounds like a curse. I pretend it doesn’t affect me and explain stoically, “I guess the beginning would be Zan.”

He throws his head back laughing. “Everybody thinks it started with Zan. My obsession with her isn’t a secret, but she came later.” He drops his cuffed hands to his lap, so he can lean in close. “I intend to spill lots of secrets today Rika, and the first is you. It all began with you.”

I feel my blood drain from the rest of my body to my feet, and I feel like I am plummeting to earth from a great distance. I may be sick. He raped me? I know he is a serial rohypnol rapist, but wouldn’t I know? My mind is flashing images so rapid it is almost a movie. When were we at the same place. He interrupts the racing in my head with more maniacal laughter. “Your pussy has never been blessed with my cock. I’m a sick fuck, but not sick enough to fuck my own sister.”

Chapter 1

Start at the beginning? Let’s see how well she can handle the beginning. “You see Rika, secret number one, you aren’t who you think you are.” She looks angry. She should be. It was a terrible secret to keep. “My story begins with Edward and Lydia Lancaster welcoming a baby boy into the world at Loretta Hospital. Edward was an abusive prick; Lydia was bruised and sober just long enough to give me a chance. Six weeks after I was born, she returned to work and began fucking her boss. She discovered she was pregnant and ran away. Her married boss took care of her because his wife couldn’t have children. The police reports say that Lydia died under suspicious circumstances, and her death was ruled a homicide. I know why she died; nobody leaves Edward Lancaster.”

Her stylus is racing across the tablet, but the shield prevents me from seeing what she writes. I bet she’s writing “Oh, shit!” over and over again. That’s what I would be writing. She’ll like this next part. This is the part where she enters the world. “Lydia’s baby girl was adopted by the Langs. I’m certain he never told his wife the baby they gave a home to was his. I bet he never mentioned it wasn’t just a nice thing he did for his secretary. The thing is, you’re not his. He did just adopt his secretary’s baby. You have dimples.” Her spine stiffens, and her face pales. I fucking love it. “That’s right, Rika. It is a trait you get from mother, just like me.”

I take out a cigarette, letting that revelation sink in. The drag of menthol through my lungs feels and tastes like heaven. I haven’t had a smoke in weeks, and Rika was a good little girl, capable of following instructions. “I was eighteen months old when you were adopted, and by all accounts of my hospital records, that is when my beatings began. Different doctors, different hospitals, each time with a plausible explanation, until I was old enough to splint my own bones.”

I throw my cigarette into the air, and catch it between my forearms. “There comes a point Rika, where you no longer feel pain. Burn creams become unnecessary, and sometimes you don’t even wipe away the blood.” Our nostrils are assaulted by the smell of my burning arm hair. She looks down to see the cigarette burning a trail up my forearm, illuminating all the other burn marks. She finally loses her resolve, plucking the cigarette from my arm and throwing it in the Styrofoam cup of water. I made the princess uncomfortable.

“I came to a point in my life where I was no longer scared. I didn’t cry when I was punched or kicked. I didn’t flinch at the lit cigarette heading towards me. At eight years old, I was no longer afraid. I had resolved that one day my father would kill me, and it would all end. I just needed to bide my time until then. I went to school and blended. I sat alone at lunch and recess. I was invisible, until Zan. She was always the center of attention. Even I would glance up from my sketchbook to watch her hang upside down from the monkey bars or swing really high and jump with an aerial dismount. She was full of so much life and happiness. She was foreign to me. One day, she sat next to me and asked what I was drawing.”

It’s hard to recall those early years. Zan was innocent and naïve. She was beautiful, perfect. Her life would have been so much better without me, but I loved her so much, I ruined her. “Zan and I sat together every day at lunch. She would come knocking on my door every afternoon when she finished homework, and we played together until her mother called her in for bed time. She hugged me every night before she went inside. I had never been hugged. I ate dinner with her and her mom several nights a week, too.

“I couldn’t sleep one night, so I snuck out. It wasn’t hard since my father didn’t give a shit if I was home or not. I climbed the lattice work under her bedroom window and slipped into her open window. I crawled in bed with her and she held me. It was the first time I slept freely. I had never been held or coddled. After that, I slept with her every single night.”

I haven’t slept since the night Zan locked the window all those years ago. “My father also noticed the closeness Zan and I developed. The crazy thing was he encouraged it. He would let Zan come over all the time. He planned weekend sleep overs at our house so Zan’s mom could begin dating freely. At first, I thought it was to hurt her, but he didn’t. His plan was much darker than that. One day when we were ten, my father told me it was time to teach Zan to be a woman, to know her place. He instructed me to hit her. He said if she didn’t fear me, she would never respect me. I refused, but he threated to remove her from my life if I couldn’t control and dominate her.”

Rika gasps. Fuck, I almost forgot she was here. Yes Rika, I was to learn dominant at the ripe old age of ten, while you grew up as your daddy’s princess. “My father is a man that lives by his word. He would have removed Zan from my life, but I couldn’t hit her. I made a deal with the devil, that if I hit Zan at least once a week, he would promise to do everything he could to keep her in my life. He agreed. I took Zan to a self-defense studio the next day. We took several martial arts, and every Wednesday in my back yard, we did bare knuckle sparring. Zan is lethal now because it was that or lose her.”

She sure as hell surpassed me. If you think about it, teaching a level eight gymnast how to fight, essentially creates a superhero. The last time I saw her, she laid me out and spit in my face. I deserved it. “My father was pissed at my loophole, but surmised I would be a lawyer like him one day. By age twelve, he couldn’t beat me anymore, so he pretty much ignored me. I spent all my time with Zan. Her mother still didn’t know I slept with her every night. At age twelve, our relationship changed. We were curled up in her bed when we heard strange noises. She thought someone was hurting her mother. She was scared and made me investigate with her. I knew her mother was enjoying herself, not being harmed, but how could I explain that to Zan? We snuck quietly around the living room wall to see her mother spread eagle on the couch with a man’s face between her legs. I covered Zan’s mouth and pulled her back to the stairs, whispering in her ear that I would explain in her room.”

Heat visibly rises in Rika’s cheeks. She’s shy when talking about sex. I make a mental note to be more explicit then. She looks flustered. “Did you know? At twelve did you know enough about sex to explain to Zan that her mother was fine?”

The only way my reaction could have been better was if I had a mouthful of water to spit at her. I laughed so hard my sides ached. “You see Rika, my father was a sick fuck that decided his son would never be a lousy lay. So, he brought home prostitutes frequently. He made me finger fuck them until I learned to give them orgasms. He told me his son would crave the taste of pussy and made me eat them with detailed instruction. He even had me watch when he fucked them. Sometimes, he would make me play with their nipples while he fucked them. He told me making a woman climax means I own her. So, yes Rika, at twelve years old I knew exactly what was going on. I could even explain it in detail to Zan. I was the one to teach her all about the birds and the bees. That night, we talked about kissing, and we shared our first kiss. It’s crazy to think I had eaten a woman’s pussy a dozen times before I ever had my first kiss.”

I shudder at how innocent she was, how timid and scared, and how I took it all away from her. Rika looks uncomfortable. I guess the idea of children having sex is more creepy than sexy. I wasn’t complaining at the time. “After sharing our first kiss, it became routine to lay in her bed every night making out for an hour or two before going to sleep. Soon, it progressed to my hands up her shirt, and then down her pajama bottoms. Our new routine incorporated me finger fucking her until she came, and she would return the favor by jacking me off until I finished for her. One day I licked her come off my fingers telling her how sweet her pussy tastes, and her eyes blazed with desire. So, the next night I went down on her. It took a few months of me pleasuring her every night before she developed the courage to return the favor. By the time we were fourteen, we were masters of sixty-nine, and sex alternative activities.”

I saw it. For just a moment Rika clenched her thighs. Thinking about a tongue in her pussy made her clench. I bet she hasn’t been properly fucked in some time, if at all. Poor girl.

Chapter 2

“Secret number two is that Zan is not as naïve and innocent as she keeps being made out.” It’s my fault she isn’t, and until now, I’ve kept that secret. Once this story releases, her husband is going to know, that phenomenal blow job she gives? I taught her that. They deserve it after what they did to me. We will get to that part of the story soon enough.

“The night of the party. You were there, weren’t you, Rika?” Her cheeks redden, and she nods quickly. That’s right, I do remember her. The observant little wall flower that didn’t drink a drop. “Well then, you might remember. The party was well underway when Zan and I arrived. It was the best night ever. Zan had elevated me to popular status. I started playing sports. High school was finally going to be my time to be normal, but my father showed up unexpectedly to read me the riot act. He didn’t care, not really. He only wanted to cause pain as usual. His tune changed when he saw Zan. He pulled me to the side to detail his newest way to cause me pain.”

I scrub my hands over my face and light a cigarette. This part of the story always sucks. “Son, you can’t own her or control her until you fuck her. She’s going to get drunk, her inhibitions will be lower, which makes tonight the perfect night. So, son, tonight you better poke that pussy, or we will move into my city apartment by the end of the week. You’ll never see her again.”

I take a long slow drag off the cigarette. Remembering the night that I wish wasn’t so vivid in my mind. I could do without the clarity. “I walked back to Zan, wrapped my arms around her and whispered in her ear. ‘I want to make love to you, Baby, can we finally take the next step tonight?’ She licked her lips, and nodded her head. She downed her cup of beer, took my hand, and pulled me running to the car. Her hands were all over me, and she was sucking my cock while I drove. Suddenly, she passed out, her head in my lap still. She was breathing, but I couldn’t wake her. Her mother would kill us both if I brought her home like this. I took her to my house instead. Stripped her down, put my t-shirt on her, and put her to bed.

“She never had alcohol before, so she was going to be very hung over. I walked to the drugstore. Thinking of everything I had heard, plus those things I googled, I grabbed Tylenol, Gatorade, bottled water, and some snack foods. Just in case, I bought condoms. I knew tonight wasn’t an option, but since she agreed, I’d need them soon. Besides, if I was to convince my father I fucked her, a used condom in the wastebasket would do the trick.”

I remember how excited I was at the prospect of making love to Zan. I was and still am deeply in love with her even though I hate her fucking guts. “I returned home to find my father in his study. He asked where I had been, so I pulled the condom box out of the bag. He commended me for my good thinking. Zan must have woken while I was gone; she was probably sick. She was naked and there was a black towel under her. She looked so beautiful. I got naked, slipped on a condom and pumped myself until I finished, staring at her tight, beautiful body. I threw the condom in the wastebasket as planned, climbed into bed with Zan, and we slept like we always do.

“In the morning, I made her drink all the water, Gatorade, and take the Tylenol. She had no recollection of coming here. She doesn’t remember taking her clothes off, or why she had a black towel. She didn’t remember telling me she was ready to make love, and I decided I wouldn’t bring it up again. Zan is a traditional girl, and she would want the moment to be special. A drunken night of debauchery is not special.”

“We spent the weekend together holed up in my room. Life was perfect for the next six weeks. After that, my life fell apart. I didn’t know why, until years later.”

Chapter 3

Secret number 3, contrary to popular belief, I didn’t rape Zan. “I was watching her gymnastics meet, when she smacked her abdomen on the beam as she fell. I stood, panicked. Zan doesn’t fall. She is mathematically precise; her brain works like a complex calculator. She excels as a gymnast because she does physics for fun. Something was wrong for her to fall like that. I make it to her to see she is unconscious and her white leotard is red with blood. It’s pooled between her legs and all over the floor. I have never been so scared in my life. She began shaking, so I put my coat over her. I tried to see her in the hospital, but I was turned away.

“This is where you come in Rika. Do you remember finding me on the bench outside the hospital?” Her eyes widen. I think she was given explicit instructions to not talk to me, or at the very least to not talk about herself. I grin at her inexperience. “I bet you do. I had my head down. I was broken with worry and anger. I had not had the ability to cry since I was four, but at that moment, with flashes of Zan unconscious and bleeding, a tear escaped a place I didn’t know existed. You sat next to me, wiped my tear and put your arms around me. Zan was the only person to ever touch me with tenderness. It was strange. I scooped you into my chest and returned the affection with harsh ferocity. You put my forehead to yours and assured me she would be okay. It was that moment that Zan walked out of the hospital and glared at us. Did you know that until Zan was in the hospital a few months ago, I thought that was why she cut me out of her life? I thought it was because of you. I was so angry with you that I stalked you. I dug up every stone in your life. I had your computers hacked. I was going to bring you down.”

“When you found out my lineage, that I was your sister, did that prevent you from harming me?” I laugh. I had almost forgotten about that lie. I like seeing her lip quiver, when her reality is ripped from her. Maybe I’m jealous, or maybe I just don’t like her. I do have to tell her the truth though.

“I was fucking with you, you are my half-sister. We share the same mother, it’s true, but your father, that is going to be a ball out of left field. A young up and coming politician was perceived as a threat by my father. He ordered our mother to fuck him on hidden video. My dad needed blackmail ammunition. Little did he know that the fucker slept with everything in a skirt, and nobody seemed to care. Not even his wife. I found the tape. It was date and time stamped. The dates align with your birth. I had to know, so I stole your hairbrush and sent it off for a DNA test.” I lock eyes with her and fake my best Maury Povich voice. “Your father is,” I drumroll my fingers on the metal table, “Our current governor. Also known as Zan’s biological father. You, Rika, are Zan’s sister, and mine. I only told you the half-lie because it could be worse. That brings me to the next secret. This one is going to get under your skin. Are you ready Rika?”

Chapter 4

“Secret number four. My cock has never been inside any woman’s vagina. I am still a virgin.” I raise my hands to stop her protests. “I know, I know, thirty-seven women disagree. I know that the media dubbed me the Rohypnol Rapist. I am a sick fuck, but I am not a rapist. I couldn’t sleep when Zan left. Sometimes, after days of not sleeping, I would feel a break with reality. I tried drugs, therapy, home remedies. I tried everything. I needed Zan to hold me. I was walking around aimlessly one night. I passed her house and the window was open. It had been locked for months. I was elated, I finally had an invitation. She was finally over her perceived notion of us.” I signal between Rika and me. “I climbed the trellis, but when I looked in her window, she was in her bed being fucked by another boy. She looked over his shoulder right at me and flipped me the bird. I ran home trying to shake the vision of his bare ass plowing into my sweet Zan. Anger pulsing in me, she set this up. All the shit my father put me through, but she had learned the newest way to hurt me.”

I reach my cuffed hands to Rika’s cheek and swipe a tear from it. I lick it slowly off my finger. “My father taught me that a woman’s tears taste almost as sweet as fine pussy.” The taste of a woman’s fear based tears, are particularly sweet.” Shaking my head to clear the distraction, I sigh audibly.

“I couldn’t stay home. I found myself by the abandoned rail yard just outside of town. A rave was thumping in a building. There is where I did ecstasy for the first time. I loved the feeling of women grinding on me on the dance floor. Their skin felt softer, their sway sexier. Ecstasy made me desire someone other than Zan. I was dragged to an abandoned rail car by a pretty girl and she was all over me. We were making out. I arched at the feel of her nails down my chest. Everything was better with X. The sounds, smells, and touches were intoxicating. She took my cock in her mouth and the sensation was indescribable. My fingers through her hair was like the finest silk. As lost as I was in the sensations of it all, I stopped her from climbing on and taking a ride. Another girl came into the rail car and began stripping. Without a word, she dropped to her belly and took over sucking my cock. So, I took the girl I came with and brought her in a straddle over my face. The second girl gave some damn good head. The more I enjoyed the blow job, the more vigorous my tongue. Soon, I had finger fucked and sucked her into collapse. When she was out cold, I flipped my little cock sucker around for the most epic sixty-nine ever. Once sated, we slept together. The key piece: I slept.”

Rika is flushed, and her thighs clenched and bouncing. I’m not going to lie, the memory of that night has me rock hard, too. “I discovered that I needed the soft curves of a woman wrapped around me to sleep. I didn’t fuck them Rika. The thirty-seven women I roofied and supposedly raped, I slept with them. Literally. I never had sex with them.”

“Wait, then why are you here? Is the punishment the same if you didn’t have sex?”

“I haven’t been tried yet. I asked to be held at Statesville, rather than the local jail. I didn’t want my father to be able to get to me. I invited you here, so you could tell your sister what was going to come out at trial. As you’ve heard, she won’t be painted in a positive light. She ought to know even if I hate her, that I am here because of her little circle. I don’t know who it was exactly, but I have my suspicions.”

“What are you talking about?”

I sneer at the recording device. “Zan’s real name is Sanity Marie Santini.” That is a well-kept secret if ever there was one. “Zan’s best friend, Chrissy, was spilling all kinds of secrets when I roofied her, but she couldn’t tell me Zan’s name because she didn’t know. I’ve known since we were kids.” Until this very moment, I never told a soul. Her little circle of friends doesn’t know. I know her, so I know. She placed power in the knowledge of her name, and then she gave me that power. Just me.

“When Zan’s mother told me that Zan’s fall off the balance beam caused a miscarriage and she accused me of rape, I had to set the record straight. I camped at her apartment door. When she arrived with her fiancée, I tried to explain. I’m a virgin, I didn’t hurt her. Her fiancée, Jacob, offered to have a DNA comparison done with the rape kit. He said they would let me know if they wanted to discuss it.” I spit the word they.” Who the fuck is he to intervene?

“As we stood in the hallway outside her apartment, it dawned on me what happened. When I came home from the drug store, he was there. She was naked. The black towel to hide her torn virginity. It was not me who violated Zan. The DNA would come back a match, and she would never believe me.

“It was exactly that moment when I felt my break with reality happen again. I tried to steal Zan. I couldn’t let her go. Not again. She beat the ever loving shit out of me just like I taught her to. When I had lost everything, I lay on the floor broken and bleeding, and she spit in my face before kicking me one last time. It was the middle finger at her bedroom window all over again.”

“You do know a familial match is not an exact match?”

“I do now, but I didn’t at the time. I learned a lot about how DNA works since coming here. Anyways, what happened next landed me here.”

Chapter 5

“Secret number five. Sanity’s Circle did the thing they accuse me of. The paramedic, Matt, who worked on me, is Jacob’s best friend. He is engaged to Zan’s best friend. The emergency room technician, Piper, is Matt’s sister. My nurse, May, is a highly respected friend of the circle. Even Megan, the girl I had recently started dating, is a friend in the circle. Megan came to the E.R. to slap me in the face. I like Megan. I thought I had a chance at a real relationship with her. She is as fucked up as I am. We fit. I can tell you all these people had access to me, but I don’t know which one plunged sodium pentothal into my I.V. port, all I know is suddenly I began spilling every fantasy I have ever had in exquisite detail. I gave specifics of the women I drugged and spouted off all the things I wanted to do to their sweet bodies.”

“What is sodium pentothal?”

“In Hollywood, they call it truth serum. It actually has effects similar to alcohol. It lowers inhibitions. I, however, am an ecstasy abuser, and was already given pain medications. My state of mind, and the myriad of drugs, left me with zero inhibitions. While Zan and Jacob were getting married in Vegas, I was being arrested and chastised in the media. Live streaming of boxes being carried out of my home by guys in FBI jackets was on all news stations. I had already been convicted.

“My father would very much like it if I were dead. He has the money to make it happen, so I thought someone should know the truth before my eminent death. The evidence removed from my home isn’t evidence against me. Naturally that means you are now in danger, so be safe. I have one last secret for you.”

Chapter 6

Secret number six. Matt had nothing to do with his brother’s death. “I don’t know if paramedic Matt was the one who drugged me. I suspect him for sure. I can tell you despite being under the impression that I raped his woman and her best friend, he treated me professionally in his ambulance. He treated the pain a normal person would feel. He stopped the bleeding, and he even splinted what could have been broken bones. I am not that kind of man. I would have killed the man who hurt my woman; I certainly would not have saved him. For that, I will give him this.”

“Matt thinks you raped Chrissy?”

I wave my hand dismissively, has she not been paying attention this far? “I roofied her for intel on Zan. I left her in a hotel room on the bed. Matt doesn’t know that. Hell, Chrissy went to the clinic in the morning, so even she doesn’t know I didn’t rape her.” I raise my eyebrow and lean in. “Matt didn’t know that I did not rape her. My bunkmate here is a good guy. He deserves to be here, but he is a good man. When he was a boy, he went to the Champagne Falls Founder’s Day Fair. He met a boy that was supposed to be playing hide and seek with his brother. He had been ditched. They were climbing and exploring together. The boy was on a metal ledge trying to gain access to the roof, but his pant leg was pierced by the broken metal rung he was climbing on. The boys were trying to free his leg when he fell upside down into a rain barrel. A woman came running to help. She yanked my bunkmate down and knocked him to the ground. She then held the boy trapped in the rain barrel down under the water until he stopped moving.”

Her shaky hand flies to her mouth and tears escape her eyes. Yes, sweet Rika, there are some sick people in this world. “When the boy was dead she hovered over my bunkmate and told him if he said a word, he would be next. He was only eight. The damage done to him at that point was irreversible. All these years, Matt thought his brother died alone because he ditched him for a girl. The truth is, he wasn’t alone. He could have been saved.”

“I remember hearing the story. It was all over the news. That was Matt BaddStone’s little brother? Who killed him?”

“Well my bunkmate saw the story all over the news, too. There next to Matt, his sister Piper, dear old dad, stood the grieving mother that drowned her own son.”

“No!”

“Before I send you on your way, you should know, my father knows you are here. He is going to do whatever he needs to do to keep you quiet. He can’t touch you here. That would be dangerous. Parked next to you in the parking lot in a black Jeep, you will find Matt’s friend, Ethan. A mutual friend told him I have information about the death of Matt’s brother. His instructions are to take you to safety. You should then give him two copies of this interview. He will give one to Matt, and one to Zan.” I turn to the recorder and tell her what I have been needing to say. “Zan, I love you. I will always love the girl who saved my childhood. For that reason, I forgive you, but I will never forget that you were prepared to believe the worst of me without explanation. For that, fuck you.

Rika

I take in everything, feeling more lost than I was before. I will look into Matt’s story, but I don’t know how much of Liam’s is true. His railroad ecstasy party happened before Zan fell on the beam. He was arrested. I went to Zan’s house the night she came home from the hospital to explain what she saw. I wanted her to know that there was nothing between Liam and me. When I arrived, I helped her mother move all of Zan’s furniture to another bedroom. If Liam climbed the trellis, he didn’t see Zan.

He claims to be a virgin, but he was treated for a sexually transmitted disease when he was twelve. The Department of Children and Family Services were called, but I can’t find an investigation anywhere. Perhaps, his father’s “sex education” went further than he chooses to remember. If he never willingly had sex, then sure, I’ll call him a virgin.

I am well aware of my lineage. Yes, I’m adopted. My biological parents were teenagers. We keep in touch. I believe he thinks everything is true, but I don’t see how I can proceed with the story. If he stole my brush and got a DNA sample, he would know. He would also know how DNA familial matches work. So, did he really not rape Zan?

The burn marks are real. I know the abuse happened. I think his break with reality happened long before he realized it. I don’t know if he is paranoid, or if I really am in danger. I’ll see what evidence the police are uncovering, maybe he didn’t fuck all those women, but he still drugged them. I’ll ask Bob how I should proceed, but first I’ll see what Ethan has to say.

Chapter 7

I’m the seventh secret. I love Liam. I try hard not to, but he melts me with his tongue. I love the honesty and acceptance he has in the depravity of his mind. His voice alone makes my panties wet. I’ve tried to date other men, but I always come back to him. Maybe it’s because he didn’t fuck me, not even when I begged him. Maybe, it’s because he is unattainable or the bad boy. Maybe it’s my desire to save the broken. My therapist will figure it out one day I am sure.

Today, I wait patiently in the Statesville parking lot. As expected, Ethan is parked next to her car. Her long brown hair blows in the breeze as she bounces down the stairs nervously looking around. I slip out of my spot following them out of the prison gates and grounds. We head down desolate back roads, and that is when I see him. Liam’s Father. He has been waiting for them. I knew where he would be, thanks to my old friend sodium pentothal. Liam’s father thinks I am one of his side chicks. He spilled the whole plan for me. Fucking amateur.

Ramming his car as hard as I can, right off the road, gives Ethan and Rika their chance to get away. If she followed Liam’s advice, she won’t resurface while this is still hot. After calling 911, I step out of my car and begin treating the driver who I just plowed off the road. He is pretty out of it, and that is a good thing.

According to the police reports, he swerved sharply and right into my vehicle. The drugs in his system back up my claims of his hallucinations. “Another car? There was no other car. No officer, I don’t believe we’ve ever met before. I certainly didn’t do… that.” Little known fact, I can blush on command. When I arrive home later that night. I did everything I set out to accomplish. Liam is going to be so proud of me.

Fresh faced and ready to take on the morning. I get all dressed up ready to see my man. Liam’s family isn’t the only one around here with money. I am a goddamned fucking princess. I get what I want. Today, I want Liam. He is escorted into the little room and shackled to the chair across the table from me. I see the confusion on his face. We don’t meet in interview rooms. We always visit in the common area. I paid more money for this room than a posh suite at a five-star hotel. The guard I paid gives a small nod before leaving the room.

“What is…” I put my finger over his lips.

“Shh.” I wait with stilled breath, until I hear it. Two knocks then one. “The cameras are off.” I slide across the top of the table like Daisy Duke over the General Lee. Straddling his lap, I crash my lips on his, so fucking hungry for his kiss. He doesn’t disappoint. His cuffed hands grasping my ass, pulling me on top of his erection.

“Oh baby, I have been waiting so long, how did you swing this.”
“Money talks, baby, you don’t need to.”

I tear open the Velcro enclosure at his chest and rub my fingers up and down the ripples of his taught abs. His body is so fucking amazing. I reach further, under his boxer briefs and gasp when I find it. Oh, how I’ve missed this man’s beautiful cock. It’s thick and heavy in my hand just like I remember it. I made sure he was in medical scrubs today. The orange jumpsuit is secured with Velcro all the way down one leg, so I can undress him while his hands are still bound. I drop to my knees licking up the beads of pre-cum at his tip. I miss the taste of him.

I suck him into my mouth wanting to please him. I need to show him how I missed him, how much I adore him. I need to fucking own him.

“Baby, I’m about to come. How much time do we have?”

“An hour.”

“Then stop. I dream every night about the taste of your pussy. I need to taste it, please.”

I stand, disrobe, and give him a moment to pleasure my nipple before I lay down on the cold metal table. “I couldn’t do anything about your wrists baby, but your legs are not shackled.” I lean up on my elbows locking eyes with him. “Time to claim what’s yours.” I don’t have to ask twice. He is licking, sucking, and finger fucking me with all the skill he’s acquired. I am lost with pleasure.

“Baby, I want to make you come so hard you forget my name, and then for the first time, I am going to slam my cock inside your pussy relentlessly. Are you up for that baby?” I push his head back down to my pussy, nodding like an unhinged bobblehead. As promised, he makes me come so hard I have tears, shaky legs, and a dizzy head. Fuck he has a wicked tongue. Before he can slam into me as promised, I sit up pushing his chest.

“No baby, I want to fuck you first. I sit him in his chair and slowly lower myself on to his cock. He is so big, it takes a minute to become fully seated, but I’m so fucking wet there isn’t a hint of friction. My body ignites at how full I feel. “Fuck Liam, you feel so fucking good.”

“So do you baby, I’m trying really hard to hang on here, but I’ve never done this before.”

“Don’t worry, Liam, if you come too soon, we can always go again. I remember how quick your turnaround is.”

With that permission he grabs my ass grinding me down hard on him. It takes several thrusts and moans, and moments of losing my mind, when he releases deep in me. I still my forehead on his shoulder. I just took the man’s virginity. It is so fucking hot. I kiss him with all the passion he just awoke in me. He takes my hair and pulls my head back licking and sucking down my neck. Taking my breast into his mouth, he reaches his cuffed hands between us to finger my clit again while he assaults my nipples. I feel my muscles tighten. “Fuck, you are going to come again aren’t you baby?”

“Yes, Liam, don’t stop!” He pinches my clit rolling it between his thumb and finger. As I teeter on the edge, I can feel him swelling again inside of me. I love how quick his recovery is. I never met a man so easy to recover. Just as I teeter on the very edge, he bites down hard on my nipple sending waves of pleasure, pain, and orgasm through me. I soak Liam’s lap and even drip on the floor.

Liam stands abruptly taking me with him. He slams my back against the concrete wall and begins to fuck me harshly, deliciously, and unforgivingly. Lifting my ass, and slamming it down on his cock hard with each thrust. His fucking is intense, and just when I think I can’t take another sensation his finger slips into my back door. I’d never had that before. After the initial shock of it, I realized he was fingering my G-spot from one side, while his cock hit it from the other. Holy Mother of George. In seconds, I was coming like a freight train and unable to hold myself up anymore.

We collapse. Liam places me tenderly on the floor. He brushes the hair from my face and kisses me passionately as he moves slowly in and out of me. For the first time, he isn’t fucking me, but making love to me. He is gentle and adoring. Telling me that he loves me, and how he wants me to be the only woman he ever has. He wants me, only me, forever. He tells me I’m the only person that believed him in the absence of proof. I am the only woman who ever loved him. I do love him. I return the sentiment kissing him, and wrapping my legs around him tighter. “I love you, Liam. I will wait for you. It will be just me and you forever, baby.”

We finish together, not the violent climax we had before, but a tender moment of coupling. Electricity surging through our bodies, binding us. I don’t know where I end, and he begins. Satisfied, elated, and spent, I curl him into my arms, holding him the way he likes to be held. His snores come quick and soft. A knock at the door shook the quiet moment. “It’s our five-minute warning, Baby. Time to get dressed.” I help him back into his orange jumpsuit and sit him in his chair, before dressing myself. “I’ll make arrangements for next week, no need to be sad.”

I kiss him lovingly, and return to my side of the table. He looks at peace and happy. I’ve never seen him so pacified. I love this man more today than I did yesterday. The door opens, and two guards enter. The one I paid immediately begins to bustle at the feet restraints.

Everything started to move in slow motion. A noise, something out of place. The other guard, I don’t remember him. Was he here the first time? A loud crack, as he hits my guard over the head with a Billy club. Falling. He is falling. I watch without processing. Sound is far away, except the thump of his body as he hits the floor, rendering him unconscious. I look at Liam, his eyes widen. Fear? Is that fear?

The second guard stabs Liam in the chest. “No!” I want to move, but I can’t. He stabs him again and again. The blood. I’m wet. Liam? The guard yells, “Love from Dad!” As he disappears out the door, and Liam slumps in his chair.

“No!” I climb over the table and begin putting pressure on the stab wounds. “No, no, no.” I take off my shirt using it to apply pressure. I can’t see his face, I need to… “Help! We need help in here.” Quiet. It’s quiet, nobody is coming, and my guard isn’t awake. I take Liam to the floor, and elevate his legs on the chair. Reaching next to us, I yank at the guards Kevlar vest. The bulletproof material is heavy. I need pressure. The radio, I need help. I pretty much scream it into the radio. “It’s going to be okay, Baby. You stay with me.”

“He brings his cuffed hands to my face. “No baby, it isn’t going to be okay. I am not leaving this room alive. You are going to be fine.” I sob into his hands. “You need to know that I am going to die feeling loved, believed, and satisfied. I never knew that was possible. I’m not scared, Baby.”

“I’m scared!” My lips quiver with my sobs. “I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me.”

“I don’t want you to morn me. You saved me. Find a man that challenges you and live happily ever after. I want that for you, Baby, it was never meant to be me. We crossed paths, so I could have this moment. A moment that I could feel real love. Now it’s your turn. Go find someone that makes you feel what you gave me today.”

“Liam, I feel what you feel, I love you. Please don’t leave me.”

“I know you think that, but I promise there is a man that will make you feel more than this. Thank you, Baby. I needed you.”

Prison paramedics rush in and begin to take over. I never prayed before, but I am praying now. Please don’t take him from me. The panic that was in his face begins to diminish. No, no Liam don’t give up. He looked over to me smiled, and said his last words. “I love you, Megan.”

Epilogue

Ethan

As soon as the story of Liam Lancaster’s death broke, I buried the recordings. I don’t give a fuck if Megan hates me. I am not going to destroy a girl that I’ve never met. She saved my best friend, Matt. Speaking of Matt, I am not prepared to destroy his family either. I will find a way to take care of Edward Lancaster, but I just can’t bring myself to destroy the lives of all of these other people, when even Rika isn’t sure how much is true.

Megan and I have a love hate relationship anyway. I guess she is just going to drop the love part. Piper is her best friend. I can’t imagine she wants to destroy Piper, either. Jacob is like a brother to Megan. Would she be alright to let his wife’s pre-marital sex life be broadcast on the nightly news? I’m not okay with that.

Then there are the whole governor’s illegitimate children thing. In the state of Illinois, land of corrupt politicians, I could go missing for being in possession of this recording. Liam is dead. All the women he slipped rohypnol to are at peace. I see no upside to releasing these recordings to anyone, ever. If Zan hasn’t spouted her lineage to the media, I’m not about to.

To my surprise, Megan agrees; she asked me for a copy of the recordings. She claims to just want to hear the tone and dialect in his voice. She says it like she is some lie detector expert. I am not letting these recordings go. I am not taking any chance that they get leaked.

Megan is pissed. She came at me like a battling ram. She was all elbows and feet. I managed to take her to the ground, where she sobbed. The emotions of the last few days have gotten to her. Matt told me Megan was almost Liam’s next victim. I guess I would want to know, too.

I hold her and let her sob until she regains her composure. She is the queen of composure. She is a nurse. I’ve never seen her lose it like this. He really got under her skin with the what-ifs. Should I tell her he wouldn’t have raped her? No, it’s best she just forgets about the recordings. She pulls away from me and sits on the chair at my desk. “Please Ethan, I can’t tell you why I need it, I just do.”

“I get it Megan, but no good can come of anyone listening to it.” She takes a deep breath, and the poor thing begins to hiccup.

“You know it was me Ethan, don’t you?”

“What was you?”

“I’m the one that plunged sodium pentothal in his I.V. at the hospital. I wanted everyone to know the truth.” She takes a deep breath to calm the hiccups. “I’m the reason he went to prison and ultimately ended up dead.” Her lip quivers. “If there is something on that tape to absolve me of guilt, you owe me that.”

“Let me get you some water.”

I consider what she told me. Liam did mention that his death was inevitable, that his father could get to him. It’s not Megan’s fault, and maybe she does need peace. The problem is everything else on that recording would be so much more destructive. I decide to compromise. I’ll email her the clip of Liam saying his death is inevitable.

I return to my home office with a glass of water. Megan’s gone, and so is the burned CD. Goddamn it! When will I learn? She has always been a master manipulator. Hell, Piper brags about it all the time. I bet she didn’t even have the hiccups. Fuck her. The copy she has is clipped. She will never hear what the last secret was. Matt’s family won’t be destroyed any more than it is. I don’t suspect she will want Jacob to learn of his wife’s relationship, so she will probably keep it all to herself. She better. I love Piper and Matt, but Megan’s relationship with Piper won’t save her if she travels this road.

The end, and the beginning, and somewhere in the middle.

You want to learn more about Ethan? Coming soon, Ethan meets the bride, in Sanity’s Sake. Who is the bride? #TeamMegan, #TeamPiper, or #TeamRika. Tell me who you think Ethan’s love is. I will tell you she is one lucky girl. Ethan is hot!

See you soon,

Love Rebel

Circle of Sanity Series

InSanity – Zan and Jacob

Sanity’s Side – Chrissy and Matt

Sanity’s Secrets (a Novella)

Sanity’s Sake – Ethan and the Bride

Sanity’s Edge

Rebel Nicks O'Dey Author

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Sanity's Secrets Full Novella