Home > The Sandstone Affair(57)

The Sandstone Affair(57)
Author: Priscilla West

“I want your badge number,” Blake is telling one of the officers who is holding him by the arms propelling him forward. “I also want to know what judge signed these orders because I’m going to take him so far down he won’t even be able to see the bench, let alone sit on it!”

I allow my eyes to take in every moment of this scene. In all my fantasies, never did it look as beautiful as it does right now. Blake scuffing his shoes on the parking lot, red-faced with spit flying out of his mouth. He’s doing a really good job of making an ass of himself until he sees us standing by watching. He convinces the cops to walk him closer to us.

“You backstabbing cunt,” he spits toward Valerie. I suck in my breath and attempt to hide how shocked I am that anyone would speak to her this way. “Did you f**k the judge too? I’ve got pictures, you two-bit media whore. I’ll tell everyone in town to watch out for your pu**y, because we all know it’s not an exclusive.”

“Oh, dear,” Valerie says, walking just close enough to Blake so she doesn’t have to scream her business for the world to hear. “Those pictures were removed from your custody before my deposition this morning. So I’m afraid you’ll be standing around with your dick in your hands. Or, more aptly put–holding on to nothing.”

“Cunt!” He rages and lunges toward her only to have the officers yank him back as he nearly falls on the sidewalk.

“Careful, Mr. Stone,” I say with a tone made of equal parts sarcasm and innocence. “When they zip tie your hands behind your back, it really messes up your balance. Believe me, I know.”

“You!” Blake roars, taking his eyes off Valerie and now charging at me as much as he can with a burly officer on each arm. “You did this. You think you won this game? I’ll be out in time for dinner and I’m going to cook your ass and feast on your soul while you sob your apology.”

“I’m not sure, Gentlemen,” Mark says to the officers. “But I think my brother just threatened Miss Sharp.”

“I’m a witness,” one cop said while the other nodded.

“You think this bitch is worth protecting? You should see her on her knees. I’ve seen her in her slutty clothes on her knees with her whore mouth open ready to suck my dick because it’s the only way any of these media sluts get ahead. Journalism isn’t made with pen and ink anymore boy, it’s written in cum, and that slut right there is the master of jizz soaked bullshit called news.”

“Blake,” Mark warns.

“Why don’t you come over here now, bitch? Come beg me like you begged the other night. Tell me how you’ll do anything I want to get back into your office. Open up that dress and wrap your whorish tits around my c**k like you wanted to do the first time you came to see me.”

I am so angry and ashamed my face flushes and I fear people will think I really did want to exchange sex with him for a hand out. Then I realize, even if the officers did believe it, all they would think is the only way Blake gets any action with women is to threaten or blackmail them. I’m pretty comfortable with that thought.

“You know what, Blake?” I start. “There are a thousand things I would like to tell you right now. I could tear you apart starting with your dick, or lack thereof, and end with your lack of common sense in putting your little schemes together. I could laugh in your face, dance at your hearing, and spit on your grave, but I won’t.” I have so much I want to say. I feel my emotions cresting, but I’m following Mark’s lead and I’m staying in control.

“Won’t or can’t, silly cow?” Blake retorts.

“Won’t,” I respond victoriously. “I have learned discipline, grace, and strength from your brother. I don’t need to waste any more time on you.”

I walk away on cloud nine. I did it. I managed my passion and channeled it into something appropriate, and powerful. I see by the look in Mark’s eyes he knows what a test that was for me and that I passed it with flying colors.

“Learned a lot did you?” Blake says, seething. “Seems to me all you did was spend the last month learning to be my brother’s f**ktoy while your father was on his deathbed. His demise was divine intervention wasn’t it? I’m sure every time you spread your filthy legs for Mark, your father prayed to die.”

CRACK!

The punch hits Blake so hard it causes the cops to let go of his arms, dropping him on the ground before staggering to stand him back up. I am as shocked as Blake seems to be. I never even saw Mark coming until he cracks Blake with a roundhouse punch right across the jaw.

“That’s no way to talk to my lady,” Mark says roughly, still holding his fist up ready to punch him again the minute the cops stand him up.

“What are you standing around for?” Blake kicks at the shins of the younger of the two cops. “Arrest him!”

“I don’t think so, Sir,” the cop says, much to Blake’s’ dismay.

“But he hit me! You saw it. That’s a clear case of assault! I demand you arrest him!” Blake shouts at the two cops.

“Didn’t see any assault. Did you, Steve?”

“Nope,” the officer shook his head. “Must have gotten that bruise falling here in the parking lot because you were fighting being taken into custody.”

“But you saw it,” Blake whines. “You saw him assault me at this very moment.”

“That wasn’t assault, Sir,” the officer advises as they pull Blake away. “Just looked like a conversation between brothers to me.”

“Well, that was sure worth the price of admission,” Valerie says to Mr. Clank who nods readily.

“I’m sorry about that,” Mark says. “I shouldn’t have risked more chaos.”

“Really? You’re sorry you hit him?” Valerie asks incredulously. They speak to each other like old lovers do—eyebrow lifts and subtle vocal tones to display meaning no one else will get. A small jealousy begins to rise in me. Will we ever speak like that?

“Well, no.” Mark concedes as he reaches out to hold my hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t do it long ago.”

Jealousy abated.

Valerie turns to leave then comes back to where Mark and I are standing. I’m afraid she’s going to make some snide remark about him dating another reporter as if I’m some kind of sloppy second to her. But, it’s me she addresses.

“People talk all the time about the media and the things we do to get the story. But you and I both know there’s a hell of a lot of work that goes into making the cover and none if it gets any press because it’s not the interesting part. You did anything you’ve had to do. Put it away and move on. There are more stories ahead that need to be told.”

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