Chapter One

His fingers combed through her silky soft brown hair, brushing loose strands away from her face as he did so.  Sliding his hand along the left side of her head, pulling her hair back behind her ear before moving his fingers teasingly down the side of her neck.  He lay at her right on his side, hovering over her.  The tingling of his touch sent electrifying shocks up and down her spine, causing her to involuntarily arch her back slightly and turn into him, sending her crotch to press briefly against his stomach.  She was enjoying every second of this, and he knew it.  Then again, so was he.  

During the time she was pregnant, he was left to come up with all kinds of ideas to change things up once Kelsey had been born.  It could be called a build up of sexual energy, and they had been unleashing it upon each other in the form of their darkest desires of physical pleasure.  The tips of fingers walked along her shoulder, crawled as a spider would down crimson dyed cotton of her t-shirt to move his hand to cup his palm around her small, petite breast.

Moving closer to her face, both their lips pursed open slightly, they lips met.  Slightly and gently squeezing the small mound in his hand, he could feel the vibrations of a soft moan come up from her throat against his tongue.  The springs within the bed creaked almost inaudibly with the shifting of their weight.  Not caring about where or how they were positioned, only giving themselves over into the passion.  Nine long months without the other like this, the past couple weeks was nothing short of what could be bluntly put as a "fuck-fest."

Kelsey was in the other room sound asleep in her crib.  Away and safe, out of earshot, it was their top priority that she not be traumatized by witnessing them giving over to their passions.  Even to her newborn mind, something like that would later prove to have scarred her for life.

His hand released its hold from her chest, wandering down more roughly then before down her shirt before it disappeared under the rest of her clothing.  Hand sliding over the simple leather belt looping through the tight, faded blue jeans hugging to fit her form.  It is said by a lot of couples that sexuality disappears from a relationship the day they come back from their honeymoon.  When they were married, however, Melissa had already been months pregnant with Kelsey.  So much for sex during an vacation to some exotic island after signing his life away for the second time.  But such a thing as lingerie was not needed with her, nor would she even tolerate such a suggestion and allow his tentacles to remain attached to his body.  She said it would make her feel like a slut, but she had not needed to be so violent with such a threat with her refusal.  A simple "no," would have sufficed.  With her, sexuality was more covert.  Instead of flaunting her shit for everyone to see, she preferred to remain subdued and let only him partake in what she had.  That suited him just fine.  He would rather have the recluse than the slut.

Lost in the throws of their physical lust, facings joined together in a mesh of skin and flesh.  She reached up around him to behind his neck as his fingers nimbly tried to find the zipper.  That's when she broke away from the passion of the kiss, reaching her hand down to his fumbling around at her jeans and stopped him from going any further.

"Hold it right there, stud," she whispered, not eager to make the slightest noise that could wake Kelsey in the neighboring room, "You did stop by Duane Reed before and pick them up right?"  "Of course," he answered but he had no intention of using the condoms, "But come one, Mel.  This'll be the last time without one."  Her eyebrows narrowed, the lids over the brown orbs of her eyes closed to slits as she looked back at him sternly, "Bullshit.  I told you before; I'm not getting pregnant again, not this soon at least.  We just now got this wrestling thing going again with HCW, and I'm not going to play the encouraging but knocked up chick watching on television at home.  No, not again, Xavier.  Put it on or you're getting snipped."  "Wait.  What?," Xavier said stunned, not really believing what he was hearing, "I'm not letting some fucker going playing around there with a knife.  What about the pill?  You can take that.  Why do I have put it on if you've already taken care of it?"  His tone was almost a whining whisper, but she was not going to give in to him, "Because I was on it last time and look what happened.  You don't like it, go jerk off in the bathroom.  I have other things to use besides that if you want to be like that."

He growled under his breath with indignation.  He thought to himself for a moment, trying to decide whether or not it was worth the compromise.  Her and her god damned fucking toys, she just loved to hold that over his head unless he did it how she wanted.  He did not mind the foreplay because, honestly, it did something for him too, but having to use a condom like they were a couple fucking wet nosed high school kids was too much.  His eyes scanned down her body, considering whether or not to swallow his pride and just do it.  She did know what he liked, tempting him as always.  "Fine," he grumbled as he rolled off of her to side on the bed's side, digging through the oak stand on his side of the bed.

There it was!  Still keeping the box inside the drawer as if he were trying to hide it from anyone else in the room, he ripped open the top and dumped the whole thing on the inside.  He then randomly grabbed one, any one, he did not care, as long as it would satisfy her that he was taking measures just like she was.  "Ah hah!," he exclaimed before realized his tone could have been considered a shout, holding up the small package as if he had just discovered a long lost buried treasure.  "Good," she said with a smile and a wink as she lifted her arms over her head, crossing them at the wrists, "You know the drill."

Right, the foreplay.  What was married sex after all without foreplay?  He rolled back off the bed again, almost stumbling over his feet as he rounded the corner to the closet on her side.  Kinky bitch always kept the stuff hidden away in there.  From whom, he could not quite figure out.  It was not like Kelsey was planning on growing five feet and reaching to the top shelf of the closet any time soon.  She only lay there, smiling and waiting, crossing her legs at her ankles.  A sneaker tapped away at the air and she started humming some tune as if it helped to pass the time for her.

That was when he heard the sound they were both loathed to hear, sending his heart dropping down into his stomach.  At first, it was mire agitation that they were being interrupted right before their "fun" for the night.  But then it occurred to him that it was their daughter's wailing that echoed in their ears.  Melissa was the first to react, motherly instincts of course, springing off of the bed in an instant and rushing out of the room.  Forgetting about what he was doing before in the closet, Xavier followed closely behind her into the living room, Kelsey's crib set up in the direct center.

It was like she knew they were close, ramping up the volume of her screaming.  Rolling back and forth on her back, small arms spread out and bent at the elbows, her face had taken a darkened shade of pink as the reached the crib.  "Aww, honey, what's wrong?," asked Melissa soothingly, the concern and worry in her voice clear as day.  Her nose scrunched a little, take a smell of the air around her before turning away and holding the newborn out for Xavier to take, "Oh, OK, here you go, baby.  Daddy will take care of that for you."  "Why?  What's wrong with her," Xavier asked taking her in his arms, confused by the change in her tone.  He himself sniffed the odor in the air and quickly but gentle held her at arms length both arms, "Oh hell no, I know you're not sticking me with changing a dirty diaper.  She's a girl, this is the mother's job."

"Sorry, honey," she said looking back to him mockingly, "I'm going to go take a shower, you can handle it though."  He watched, stammering over his words, trying to say something so they could switch jobs.  He could take the shower and she could be stuck with cleaning up the shit rag on their daughter's ass.  His pleas were cut short, however, with the closing of the bathroom door behind her.  Only Xavier and Kelsey were left in the room.  He looked at the door, not expecting to open and Melissa saying she changed her mind, but just thinking of her then back to Kelsey.  "Don't take after your mother," he said with a shake of his head and rolling his eyes.

Chapter Two

The early morning breeze blew along and through the budding treetops.  Spring was growing to a full bloom as usual this time of year.  Gone were the skeletal fingers reaching into the sky, now turning into masses of green life.  Teaming with so much leafy life, it rustled together as the branches swayed to and fro with the temperament of the wind.  The air hung around him heavy and thick, drenched still with the morning dew which still had grass to moistened with it coolness.  He liked this time of the day, even preferred it over any other and this was his favorite place to spend it.

It was the dead quiet that made feel at peace.  The mechanical humming of cars moving along the city streets muffled by the distance of space.  In terms of all the other parks in the city, Central Park was king.  Any of the others spread throughout the city were a mere oasis set into its green enclaves amidst the steel and glass.  He was in the Land of Oz by comparison.

For the time being, no one else existed in his world expect him, and Kelsey.  Melissa was off somewhere in the artificial forest running her usual route to get back into shape.  Three weeks after giving birth, the was not a bad thing he could say about her body.  She looked fine and she could out sprint him any day of the week.  She was a Michaels after all, and we all have at least something we tend to be a perfectionist about.

He wanted to at least make a show that he was not ready to lay down for her and concede the fact that she could run a trail better than him, but parenthood got in the way again it seemed.  Besides the woman they had hired to take care of Kelsey, they were still without someone to watch her occasionally and give them some time to themselves.  No one said taking care of a child was going to be easy, it was expected, but neither of them had any idea the true scope of how much their lives would be consumed.

He awoke an hour ago, hearing the rustling and almost tearing sound of the zipper as she put on the athletic jacket to cover teal t-shirt covering her upper body.  She told him there was no reason for him to get up, that he could just stay with Kelsey and she would be back soon.  Five in the morning and a young woman in the park by herself?  Fuck no.  While it was not the eighties anymore and crime in the city had dropped drastically, there were still plenty of nutcases and chicken shit gang bangers for him get out of bed that early.

Putting his hand on his waist, making sure his palm felt the hard steel of their father's old gun.  Like Melissa with her meticulous training of her body, Xavier was obsessive when it came to not taking any chances.  Let her get a workout now while he stood watch, his sense of hearing peaked, listening for any hint of her needing him.  Nothing, only the dead quiet that had surrounded him the minute he watched go off down the asphalt vein, resigning himself to his post on the wooden bench.

He took the occasional glance into the carriage on his right, making sure Kelsey was still sound asleep as she was whenever he looked.  Christ, babies sure as hell did sleep a lot.  Her small pink face the picture of serenity and calm.  He hated having to leave her period, let alone with a perfect stranger.  Certified or licensed or whatever she was that said she was capable of caring for all a child's need, who was she to them that meant they could put their trust in her on that level?  Melissa was even more torn about it.  Last week when we left to attend the Insanity pay-per-view, it took her over a half hour just to say goodbye to the girl.  It was going to be such a bitch to get her to stay calm years from then when she moved out, went to college or whatever she ended up deciding to do with her life.

In a way, however, he was glad Shane had come to him with the idea of getting back into wrestling.  He had been away for far too long.  Besides, she always had a way of peaking his interest with prospects of what can be, and HCW was fresh territory.  He hated wrestling, but loved it at the same time.  It was because of the business that he met Riley, but indirectly the reason they later divorced.  Fucking cunt bitch.  The same business that was the reason he had not a thing to worry about as far as money was concerned.  The royalty checks and interest from the money he had put away during the peak of his career was what paid the bills, but he was also the laughing stock of every locker room because of his current lifestyle, the private choices in life he and Melissa had made.

What business was it of anyone else's what they did?  It was they lives, let the self-righteous jerk off on the privacy of their pedestals and splooge all over their adoring fans whom took up everything they said as gospel.  It was time people learned to fear him again as they had two years ago at the height of his reign.  Time for him to be noticed again, standing with pride for the first time in awhile and not ashamed as their criticizing eyes crawled over him.  He was the sister fucker to them, nothing more.  After signing the deal with HCW, he vowed quietly to himself that would forever changed.

It would start with the roster.  Shane had brought him in, and he knew Shane's brother was around as well as a few other people he knew and respected, everyone else was fair game.  "Hell," it seemed was a very ironic name for the show he would make his in ring return.  He would not do anything against Shane nor Alex, but for Ja$e and this Johnny Chaos, that ring would transform into their own personal hell.  Monday night would be time to show that he was not a washed up has-been after all, and that he was still a force to be reckon with in the world of professional wrestling.

Slowly, the white speckled abyss of black changed into a shade of purple.  The stars above were gone, masked being the light of the approaching sun.  He closed his eyes, letting the air fill his lungs with a heavy breath, not helping the smile come across his face.  Yes, as hard as it was to get up this soon, he so loved the early morning times like this.  He could feel the urban landscape outside the park's rectangular bounds come to life exponentially.  Traffic increased, more than the occasional yellow cab cutting along Central Park West.

He saw Melissa's shape in the distance, rounding around The Lake as it was called simply.  Small waves rippled and churned over it's surface, the soft splashing sounded as a dog would drinking out of a bowl.  She run up closer, showing him a smile as she approached.  The Florida Marlins baseball cap hiding her eyes from him, the brown ponytail jostling around with her steps as it hung out through the adjustable hole in the back.  The bitch was a Yankees fan and she wore that abomination.  He was surprised she was not attacked after all even with him nearby for that insult to sporting taste alone.

Without so much as a word, she passed a few feet in front of him, turning to prop a foot against the seat of the bench.  She bent down, retying the laces of her running sneaker, her breath heavy and labored.  It looked like the pregnancy had indeed taken away some of her stamina.  His hand came to wrap around her forearm, gently rubbing her jacket sleeve up and down the teal stripes going up and down the outside of her arm.  "All the baby fat is gone huh?," he joked, "Looks like those nine months of eating crap took a lot out of you."  "Bite me," she retorted, switching over to the other leg.

He could only laugh, getting her to think he was thinking of anything but her small ass and legs in the matching athletic pants.  He smiled to himself, his eyes wondering up and down the same colored stripes down the outside of her legs.  Again, he was only thinking of trouble, the same variety that had brought them their daughter.  It was even the basis of her making him take the proper protections to make sure it did not happen again anytime soon.  A small sacrifice he supposed.  That's when he realized they were no longer alone anymore.

The guy looked like he had been sleeping in a dumpster for the past week.  Saying he had a scumbag appearance about him would get you a humanitarian of the year award.  Xavier could immediately tell where he attention was focused the second he saw him, and it only pissed Xavier off even more.  "Motherfucker," grumbled Xavier trying to control his temper.  Melissa did not turn back around, only staying hunched over, her one knee pressed against her chest even though she had already finished, "I know, he was watching me at the lake.  Creepy looking guy right?"

His nostrils flared with a hatred for the man as he walked closer still a ways down the road.  He stood up, but she reached back and grabbed him by the arm.  "Just leave him," she told him, "You're not going to do anything around Kelsey.  So what if a creepy fuck was watching me, let's just go."

Xavier looked down at Kelsey, but Melissa was around walking around him to take control of it.  She started pushing off, their daughter still asleep and unaware inside.  Fine, he would walk away this time.  God have mercy on the piece of shit if Xavier ever saw him again because he would be getting none from him.

Chapter Three

The light of the midday sun fought and clawed its way through the stench of death to shine down upon him.  The heat from the glowing orb hanging high above in the heavens, however, did not achieve the same level of success.  The warmth of life itself had vacated this area the day of the first burial.  The stubby thumbs of chiseled rocks did nothing to break the cutting wind driving across the near open plain of memorials.  They only scratched at its surfaces a cat would with a newly purchased piece of furniture.  It was your typical, everyday, garden-variety cemetery.  All the doom and gloom.  It was almost comical when the accepted stereotypes became true.

However morbid it seemed, Xavier could understand why some people ventured to such a place for isolation.  Here were scraps of the divine creation, life.  Cast aside by that which had breathed life into them, buried in the earth or ceiled within vaults of stone, after being rendered useless, what was left here were of no concern to anyone or anything.  The occasional visit by someone close to whom that had once inhabited the corpse which they were addressing and a dozen or so flowers lain atop the stones, it was no where near enough to bring warmth and life anew.  The flowers eventually died and withered away to dust, blown aside with the whispering of the ghostly wind.  The presences of the people faded away into powerless memories, barely leaving an imprint of themselves upon the grounds.  Birds, squirrels and even the lowliest of rodents were not sentimental enough to pay it a visit.

He had asked Melissa if she wanted come, but she flatly refused.  They tended to do everything together, call it an old habit from their childhood, but this was on ritual that he alone must do.  She would not admit as much, heaven forbid she have the appearance of being weak.  She did not know quite how to deal with the feelings and memories it would bring up.  He could not say he blamed her.  She was only six when he was killed, his figure taking on mythic proportions with the aid of the occasional story told by their mother.  She had no real memory of him, only fleeting memories with the gaps filled in by fanciful tales.

Ever since he was thirteen, it had been his solemn duty to come out here every month and lay a bundle of flowers against the stone.  Even when their mother had brought them, she would only sit in the car at the far off asphalt road, Melissa's young mind left wondering why they were there.  Since his death, Xavier had been made the "man of the house," whether he wanted to be seen as such or not.  Why did he have to be the one to carry the load of the family's burden.  Their mother was the adult, they were just kids.  Why the hell could she not just come here and do it herself instead of relying on him to do it.

The lines engraved, chiseled into the stone as they had been for the past thirteen years.  Chasms etched into the granite.  Some connecting into another, some not, to form shapes and members of the alphabet.  Letters spaced close enough together to be considered words, "Terrance Nathaniel Michaels," read the morbid headline, "Husband.  Father.  Solider.  February 20, 1962 - December 15, 1995."  His father, Melissa's father.  In any real sense, the only good and honest man he ever knew in his life.  The dedication to the ideal to do what he was told without question to help others, to lead through the trials of was what had gotten him killed.

Melissa squealed a giggle of a laugh, flying through the air with ease, levitated by the muscles in his arms.  Her arms outstretched ahead of her, brown hair flowing in shimmering waves with every dip and sharp incline.  Spinning around, twirling in circles around him, the feeling of a bird flying through the air flowing through her as Xavier watched on in jealousy.

"Terry," called his mother from afar, "I swear if you two break anything.  And shouldn't you be going soon?"  A resigned sigh let out form him with a grunt, slowing down and easing Melissa down to her feet.  She held up her arms as if she wanted to go up again only to have his hand ruffle through her hair.  "Mommy's right, Pumpkin," he said, "I'll be back soon though, I promise."  Her bottom lip stuck out largely pouting, his lips brought to the skin of her forehead, whispering into her ear, "Go see if your brother will play with you."

Melissa smiles slightly in agreement and turned away to walk to Xavier sitting on the couch watching television.  She climbed up onto the cushions, propping herself up and leaning against his arm.  He looked at her suspiciously, suspecting she had some ulterior motive for this latest grab for attention.  Her brown, doe-like eyes gazed into his before laying her head to rest against his chest.  Their father watched on, standing where he was as if waiting for something, his gaze fixed intently upon Xavier for the most part.

Reluctantly, Xavier pulled his arm from underneath her and wrapped it around her body across her back.  He nodded approvingly while Melissa pulling closer, her eyes blankly staring at the screen against the wall.  Their father side stepped down the hall from their view, a few audible words heard flowing down from another room down the hall before he returned to enter the room with a large duffle bag suspended by straps gripped within is right hand.  "Mom can handle herself," he said to Xavier, "but take care of your sister while I'm gone.  You're the man of the house for now."  "Thanks, Dad," said Xavier quietly.

"Bye, Daddy," chimed Melissa as he turned and walked to the door.  It swung open, blinding light pouring in, silhouetting his from standing within the frame.  He turned his head slightly, giving them a sideways glance before stepping through into the light outside.

Colored lights flickered and switched as they hung from the decorated, evergreen tree in the corner, shining their slight brightness upon them.  Melissa's tears wetting his chest as she cried hysterically against him.  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, not knowing the full depth of what was happening but knew that their father would not be keeping his promise.  Their mother speaking to a man in a uniform, his chest decorated with a speckling of multi-colored brass pieces.

He seemed to be at peace inside the stained coffin, showing no signs of the violence that had brought an end to his life.  He looked up with closed eyes to the ceiling, looking but not seeing, his spark gone and vacated.  Some man he had never met was saying something to him, something about his father saving his life but he was only half listening.  A step stool had been brought next to their father for Melissa to step up by herself and look at him without having to be carried.  She screamed, clutching at him and refusing to let go.  Only after their mother was pulling on her was her grip broken and carried away, screaming for him between choked sobs.  She was asking why he would not wake up, unable to understand, he was right there.

The coffin lid shut closed over him, flag draped over top of it before six men grabbed the handles ringed around the side, clean white gloves sliding along them.  It seemed impossible that something like it would be carried, it must have weighed a ton to his eyes but they raised it in the air.  Steps in time with the other, they silently carried the box past him heading towards the door to take it outside to the waiting hearse outside.  The only sound he heard was Melissa's crying and screaming still ringing in his ears.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.  He looked away, eyes cast downward, fighting at the tear trying to push its way free.  For almost the past year, he had felt a pang of guilt whenever thinking of the man.  Xavier did not doubt the he would beat his ass cripple if he were alive to know about the life he and Melissa were leading now.  Their reasoning would matter not, the events that lead up to it would be irrelevant.  Xavier was the older brother.  He was supposed to be the one to look out for her, protect her, not fuck her.

He sniffed hoarsely through his nose, fighting the urge to cry, to show emotion even when he was completely alone.  Someone coughed behind him, causing him to furiously wipe at his eyes and nose to make sure not a sign of what he was feeling was showing.  "Hey man, been a long time," called the voice from the owner behind him.  For some reason it sounded familiar, yet he could not exactly place it with neither the face nor name.  He turned to see the face of an old friend, someone he had not seen in three years or so, Michael... damned if he could remember his last name.

"Yeah," Xavier said finally with a cough, the feeling of sadness choking him, "Nice place to meet old friends huh?"  He looked around, nodding his head sarcastically in the distance at the army of silent patrons under the earth.  He glanced briefly over his shoulder, gesturing a thumb in the direction back behind to who knew how far away, "My old man's buried back up here a ways too.  Sad deal but at least it's over for him now.  Went last year."

"No shit?," Xavier tried to sound surprised and shocked, "I had no idea."  Which was a complete and utter lie.  He knew the man had died last year, but saying that he had read about it in the newspaper that an alcoholic war vet got piss drunk as usual and blew his head off just would not be tactful.  There were times and with certain people he tried not to be a complete dick with.  With the favor Xavier owed him, it was the least he could do.

"Yeah, never was the same after your dad," he said nodding past Xavier to his father's headstone, "Once he got out, it just went downhill, only got worse with like the last six months or so.  Always was asking that if I ever saw you about how Mel was doing and since..."  Xavier cut him off with a wave of his hand and cut in, "We don't talk about it... ever.  The silence deal doesn't just apply to what we did to him; I don't want her reliving the shit in anyway.  It was bad enough thinking about it after what he did to her, she's finally moving on past it."

He opened his mouth, as if he were about to ask him something.  It was probably about Melissa and how she was, but who gave a fuck.  He had seriously started to annoy him when the topic had moved to her.  Thankfully, however, he was cut short as Xavier's phone beeped to life.  Flipped open, the screen read, "Mel Calling."  He answered immediately.

"Hey, I'm leaving right now.  I'll be home...," he began but a sound of something he never wanted to hear answered him on the other end.  It was her, but for some reason, she was crying.  "Mel?," he asked, concern and worry filling his voice.  "Xavier, I don't know what going on, but it's mom," she sobbed on through the phones tiny speaker into his ear, "You have to go down there and find out what's wrong with her."