Destiny's Song (releasing December 2005 from Wings ePress)

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“Yes! Yes! Harder! Oh, That's it! That's it! More! Give me what I need. Yeah, I'm coming!” A woman's moan of satisfaction filled the air.

Jillian Roark heard it all as she slammed her front door behind her. Not another porn flick! When would Jeff remember that sex wasn't a spectator sport? Heck, when had he learned it was? She put her guitar case into the coat closet. She'd left her job, singing at The Redneck early tonight. Her stomach had refused to behave. “Come on, Samson, let's get your harness off.”

Her faithful guide dog of a few months bounded to her side. As Jillian released the fastenings of his harness, she heard:

“Oh, baby," followed by that groan of triumph that signals the sexual release of the male animal.

 Jillian froze. Samson wiggled free and sped away. His nails clicked on the tiles as he hurled himself toward their bedroom.

“Shit, Samson, get off me,” Jeff bellowed. “Jillian, what are you doing home? Stay where you are. I'm coming,”came her husband's voice from their bedroom.

His words threw her into action. “Sounds to me like you did that already,” she choked out as she moved to her bedroom door. How dare he masturbate when he'd only made love to her once since her return from the school with Samson. As she reached the door, she heard:

“Jeff, what should I do?” It was a too familiar feminine voice.

“Get dressed and go into the bathroom. She'll take the dog out in a few minutes. Then you can slip out. She won't see you. Be quiet! She doesn’t know anything about us. Go before she discovers it's you.”

But Jillian had heard the words her husband whispered to her agent and best friend here in Nashville. Well, so much for friendship and trust.

As the vengeful, Nordic goddess that she resembled, Jillian strode into her bedroom. She threw back her arm and hurled the equipment she'd removed from her guide dog. “Jeff, I'm blind, not stupid!”

She heard Audra's gasp of pain as metal made contact with the two who had betrayed her. You didn't need sight to hit that big a target. She'd always been an accurate pitcher at the Pennsylvania School For The Blind.

“Jillian, ...” Jeff began.

“Both of you, get dressed and get out of my home, she snarled. Nausea rose into her throat. She fled to the bathroom. She just managed to close and lock the door behind her. Dizziness made her sink to her knees beside the toilet. Her stomach emptied. Sobs shook her body as tears flowed. She was in too much agony to even try to stand.

“Jillian, you don't understand," Jeff called through the door. “Open up and we'll talk. We need to talk.”

That was her husband all right. He thought he could talk himself around or out of anything. Not this time she told herself. “Stop banging on that door. Go away.” Now he knew she was crying. He'd assume he had gained the advantage.

“Audra's gone. We can find another agent. I don't expect us to work with Audra after ... this. I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what got into me,” Jeff pleaded.

"I'm sorry." Yeah, that was always Jeff's first attempted foray into getting his own way. She knew the pattern. “Get out!” she screamed through her burning throat.

“I won't go. I can't leave you. I love you, sweetheart, please!”

Excuses, words of endearment, why shouldn't he use them? They'd worked before. But not this time. Not after he'd bedded Audra. Jillian hoisted herself to her feet. Her legs shook. She took the few steps to the sink. She supported herself against it and turned on the cold water. It felt so good as she splashed it against her face. She rinsed her mouth with Listerine. Was she ready to meet him? Could she stand up against the onslaught of charm, tears, and vows of I'll never do it again.

“Honey, are you okay? Talk to me.”

She heard him shake the doorknob. If she didn't unlock it, he'd break it down. Cave man, macho, and virile male charmer were all parts of his persona. Or were they signs of his multiple personalities? Whatever he wanted was a necessity for life. When he got it, he became bored. Then he'd get rid of it because he didn't feel he needed it any longer. Was it her turn to be one of his cast-offs

“Jillian, I mean it,” Jeff ordered. His fist hit the door, hard.

“Take that threat out of your voice.” She didn't have to remove the barrier that separated them. But she, not he, would have to pay to have it replaced if he broke it down. Knowing Jeff, he would smash it. So she forced herself to unlock the flimsy wooden plank that separated them. Wood met flesh as she hurled the door open.

“Ouch!” She heard him curse under his breath. Temper, temper! Anger won't make me want to forgive you, you know,” she crooned in her most sultry voice. “I did as you requested. Now try to talk yourself out of this one, if you must. Or, just go.”

His hand reached out to caress her cheek. She grabbed for the knob and tried to pull the door shut. “Don't touch me. Don't ever touch me again!”

He was too quick for her. She fought a futile tug of war. “You win. I lose. So what else is new?” Jillian let go. She tried to slip past him. His hands closed over her upper arms. His fingers dug into her flesh. She didn't even try to fight him as he drew her against him.

She couldn't see his smile. Somehow she sensed it. She pulled back a bit and turned her face up to him. Would he think she wanted him to kiss her?

She felt the first touch of his lips upon hers. His hand dropped to begin to massage her back. Jillian brought her knee up to connect with his groin. She felt him double over.

“Bitch, you little bitch,” he moaned as he crumpled to the floor.

She grinned in delight as she moved to leave the room. “I told you never to touch me again.”

“You can't mean it,” he whispered through clenched teeth.

“Oh, but I do. I'm going to the kitchen now. You do remember that it's the room where I keep my carving knives. Remember the Bobbit," she sneered.

“Wait!”

“It seems I've waited too long already. When you can stand, get out of my home.”

“I live here too.”

“It's mine. I pay the rent. Oh, the car keys. I make the payments on it, too. You can pay for your own transportation from now on.”

~ * ~

Jeff realized he couldn't stay curled up on the floor forever. The pain in his groin had lessened to a dull throb. Jillian's talking clock announced the time. Had it been less than an hour since his wife had caught him in their bed with her agent?

Audra of the flaming red hair and petite, luscious curves. A willing siren who'd allowed him to seduce her a few months ago when his selfish wife had abandoned both her career and him to get a second guide dog. What did she need an animal for? It only shed hair all over their apartment. It demanded too much of her attention. She had a cane for when he wasn't available to take her places. That damn dog gave her grandiose thoughts of independence. Now, she even thought she could kick him out? “Well, Jillian Roark, I should just go away for a week or two. Then you'll see what it's like to be on your own,” he muttered as he pulled himself to his feet. “That's what I'll do. Then, you'll see all the things I do for you. That'll make you change your mind.”

Jeff began pulling out drawers and throwing stuff into the largest of the set of matched luggage she'd gotten him last Christmas.

Jeff could almost hear her telling him: “My manager needs luggage that shows how important and successful he's made me.”

He'd managed her career ever since that night three years ago. She'd been playing her guitar and singing in the Heartland Baptist Church choir. He'd recognized her talent. He'd wooed her, overlooked her lack of virginity, taught her the finer aspects of lovemaking, and brought her to Nashville. He worked hard to find her a place among the horde of wannabe musicians drifting around here in Music City. He’d found her those first few jobs. He'd begged until Audra had taken them on as clients. It was because of him that Jillian Roark had a career singing country/western music. They had climbed the ladder toward stardom together. To be truthful, he'd carried her up the ladder to stardom. Without him, she'd be back there, in Mance, cleaning house for her parents and their ever-growing brood of brats. He deserved something for his hard work. Even if that something was an occasional liaison with another woman. Maybe he shouldn't have screwed Audra here in his apartment. But, how was he supposed to know that Jillian would come home sick? Until now, she'd been healthy. He'd be more careful the next time.

Audra would put him up for the night. Yeah, she was always anxious to get a chance to get him inside her. Now they'd have all the time they wanted to be together. Jeff grinned as he snapped the suitcase closed. Should he phone her? No, he'd just surprise his little nymphomaniac of a bed partner. He showered, shaved, changed his clothes, and left.

~ * ~

“Gone, Samson. Jeff has finally gone,” Jillian spoke to the dog who cuddled against her side.

But she wasn't alone. She had Samson. She had her home, a job, and money in her checking account. First thing tomorrow morning, she'd better get Jeff's name taken off her accounts. After her doctor's appointment on Friday, she might need that cash for more than just her personal expenses. She'd also need to find a new agent. She hoped her ex-best-friend would let her go. Maybe a lawyer would be able to find a way to break their contract. She never wanted Audra near her or hers again.

A baby or a flu without a fever, which would it be? Which did she want it to be?

A gift of the love she'd felt for Jeff might even now be growing within her. A baby to love. A child to raise. Could she do it alone? She'd changed diapers, given bottles, and bathed her brothers and sisters. But her mother had been there to tell her what to do. Her father had worked hard to comfort and support them. Now she was on her own. Alone she might, no would, have to do it all, without help. Without the man she loved to share the moments of happiness and sadness.

She could go home. Give up her career? Never! Out there in the Pennsylvania hills, there'd be no jobs that paid enough to give her child what she needed. And her daughter would have it all.

Or maybe this was just the flu? Tomorrow she'd wake up with aching bones and a fever. It might be for the best.

Jillian couldn't do much more tonight. Her anger had dissolved. She wanted her perfect life back. She'd been content in her cocoon, her now known farce of a marriage. She could feel Jeff's arms about her. She remembered the kisses from their courtship days. She yearned for the passion they once had shared. She dropped her aching head onto her arms and let the memories, what ifs and maybes drift away in a flood of her tears.

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