Plain Gold Ring Pt. 03

I had a hard time finishing this story. Forgive me.

Thank you to blackrandl1958 for the edit, norafares for the support and confidence, D for the multiple rereads and the hand-holding, and Todd172 & stev2244 for asking me, "What is up with June fucking Silva?!"

*****

Melissa learned from an early age that men were simple creatures. They had basic drives and desires, and it was a woman's job to determine what those were and use them to her advantage. Men were easy to provoke to anger or lust. They were even easier to control. It wasn't their fault that they could be so easily swayed; it was just their nature. They were like children, Melissa often thought. Her father had been incredibly childish and pliable, and she watched her mother manipulate and persuade him until he could hardly do a thing independently. Toward the end of their marriage, he would even ask for permission to leave the room. Her mother had taught Melissa everything she needed to know about how to get a man to bend to one's will, and her father taught her everything about weakness. She knew that she would never, ever, let herself become like him: feeble and dependent on another for happiness.

Never.

In spite of the fact that things aren't going her way with John, she knows that he, and others like him, are weak losers, and she is a strong and fierce winner.

She thinks about this as she watches Sam connect her car to the tow truck. Sam could never be considered weak, and appreciation floods her body. She always thought he was attractive, but he was too close to home for her to act on her impulses. She eyes the way Sam's muscles tighten as he works and can't imagine him being easy to control at all. Melissa isn't surprised he's tied himself to Maggie, who is the type of person to apologize to a bee if one stung her. It would hardly occur to Maggie to manage him, and she senses that's part of the reason why Sam settled on her, for that's what he undoubtedly did.

Burnt afternoon sunlight lazily drapes shadows across the lot, and a light sweat clings to both their bodies. It's a humid day and not getting any cooler. A few dark clouds drift across the sky and Melissa remembers the weather report. It's supposed to be a dark and stormy night. How perfect.

"A storm's coming," she says, breaking the silence that Sam has established. "Hard to believe it after such a beautiful day, right?"

He grunts, but says nothing, busying himself with her car. When he's finished, he steps back and gives her a reluctant glance, as if the sight of her hurts his eyes. He's either repulsed by her or frightened of her, and she finds herself not minding either possibility. It won't matter.

He nods toward his truck. "I'll drive you back home."

She forces herself to look sad. "I thought you knew. I'm not... living there anymore. But I would appreciate it if you gave me a lift to my friend's house. She's only about ten minutes away."

He opens the passenger door for her and she slips in, making sure to extend her legs so her skirt rides up her thigh a bit. If Sam notices, he doesn't show it. Melissa can tell that he is a practiced gentleman, but there is something about the way his expression flickers that lets her know that underneath, he's the strong kind of man that is her favorite challenge. Underneath, he's not really a gentleman at all. He's rough in all the right places.

He gets in the car and immediately turns up the radio. The man on the station is talking about the weather and the flood warning in the area.

"I hate storms," she lies, because she senses that Sam is someone who enjoys offering comfort. Besides, it might sound dark and odd to admit to liking the chaos a summer storm brings.

He looks at her from the corner of his eye and then drives out of the lot. "I'm sure you'll manage. Do I turn left at the light? Or right?"

"Right. Then go all the way down until you can't go any further and make a left."

He nods once. His entire body is stiff. Alert. She likes that he's on guard around her. Thoughts of her failure with Ray dissipate, and she allows herself to enjoy the heady power of making another person uncomfortable. She doesn't know Sam well enough to determine exactly what he thinks of her, and she has no idea what June has told him about her, but she figures she knows Sam's type. She plays it the best way she can.

"How are Maggie and June doing?"

He makes the right turn and smiles. "Great. Maggie's about three weeks away from the due date, and June is doing well in school."

School. Melissa had temporarily forgotten about that. A smile works its way across her face as she momentarily thinks about how perverted her husband is, and she'd never known it! She has more respect for him than ever, but Melissa doesn't have time to enjoy this fact right now. She needs to stick to her plan.

"Maggie looks great. You two must be so excited."

Sam casts a wary glance at her, but his smile widens. "Yes, we are."

A melancholy song begins to play on the radio. Perfect.

"I always wanted a baby," Melissa says, letting her voice trail off, "but, you know..."

Sam offers no response, but his jaw tightens and Melissa gets the message: he knows. Well, that makes things harder, but not impossible.

"You probably know about John and me by now. It's... well, I don't know how to describe it." She sniffles. Sam might try hard at being the stoic silent gentleman, but he subconsciously leans in; everyone is fascinated with car crashes. "You wouldn't understand. You have a fantasy marriage."

"It's not a fantasy," he says. His dark eyes quickly scan over her face before returning to the road. She can't read his expression and she hates that. He's harder to understand than she thought he would be, but it makes her blood sing to needle him. "It's real. It's hard work, but it's great work. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Of course," she says, adding just a little bit of contrition into her tone. "I just meant you have what everyone wants. The perfect marriage."

His eyebrows lift but he says nothing.

The sun has nearly disappeared from the sky, and Melissa can taste the rain in the air. It is going to pour any minute.

They're silent for a while. Melissa sneaks glances at him, wondering when she should make her next move. Too soon, and it'll spoil the effect. Too late, and she won't be able to tell if she's been successful. She waits for him to get to the end of the road and make the left before speaking again.

"We have to go down this street for a bit. She lives on a street on the right, onSycamore."

"Got it."

"June must have told you about what happened with John." Melissa plays with her hair as if she's nervous. Sam's eyebrows raise again; he is surprised she's being direct about it. "I can't imagine what you think of me."

"I would suppose that it's none of my business."

Melissa examines Sam's rough hands and admires them as she debates what to say next. She wishes she could have a bit more fun with Sam, but she's not stupid enough to think she can actually seduce him. He is already waiting for one of her red nails to dance across his thigh. She can tell by the tight way he holds himself. "I screwed up." She honestly believes this, to an extent, so it isn't hard to inject earnestness into her voice. "John has his flaws, but he doesn't deserve what I did to him. No one does."

Sam sighs. "Like I said, none of my business. I keep my nose out of other people's marriages."

A trait she wished his niece shared, she thinks. He must have guessed her thoughts, however, because he frowns at her in the darkening evening.

"I know you might think June overstepped, but June is like her aunt. She always thinks she's doing the right thing."

"That can be an annoying habit," Melissa snaps before calming herself. "But I don't blame June." She impresses herself when she says the words, even as they make her clench her teeth.

"Good. She's a good girl."

"I'm just... worried about her, I guess."

Sam waits a beat. Melissa wonders if he'll take the bait. His jaw clenches again and he is clearly struggling with himself. Concern edges out caution and he asks, "Worried?"

Melissa is enjoying this too much. She fingers the edge of her skirt and puts on the most innocent expression she can manage. "I just assumed you knew."

His hands tighten on the wheel. Melissa fights a smile. "Knew what?"

"John and June. They're... a thing. Or whatever. I'm not sure exactly what they are." Melissa shrugs and tries to look helpless. "John's obviously trying to punish me and I'm just concerned what that could do to a girl June's age." She snaps her fingers. "Probably destroy her, if we're being honest."

"What do you mean by 'a thing'?" Sam asks, his voice deceptively calm. She can sense the fury inside of him. He is so predictable, albeit exciting.

"Sam, I really didn't ask for all the details. Maybe it's something you should discuss with June." Melissa fidgets purposefully and fiddles with her hands. "Oh, God, I'm so dumb. I shouldn't have said anything. I just don't like seeing John using her. And of course, it raises all kinds of questions, right?"

Sam waits for her to go on. She doesn't.

"Sycamore should be coming up on the right any second." Sam puts on his turn signal and navigates the truck onto the road. "Do you think I'll be able to pick up my car soon?"

"I'll give you a call tomorrow," Sam answers with a tight voice.

"Great. She's two houses down on the left." He pulls in front of the grand estate and she offers him a tentative smile. He's looking at her without seeing her. "I meant what I said earlier. Maggie is very lucky to have you."

Sam puts the car in park and Melissa tries not to smirk. "What did you mean when you said it raises questions? Questions about what?"

"Look," Melissa sighed, "I really don't want to get involved." Her smile becomes apologetic. "I'm sure you understand."

His fingers clench but he remains outwardly calm. "I need to know what you meant."

He knows what she meant but he needs to hear it. He's too frightened to acknowledge his thoughts without a little push.

"Well, John used to tutor June, right?"

"Right." The wheels are turning faster, and from the expression on his face, the process is hurting him.

"Well..." Melissa says, drawing out the word.

The wheels click into place and Sam looks like something worse than horrified.

Melissa hides her satisfaction. "Hopefully, I'm wrong, but it's hard not to suspect."

"How can you accuse your own husband of such a thing?" Sam asks, but the words are blunted by his obvious shock.

"I'm not accusing anyone of anything. I doubt John is capable of something like that. I just wonder if whatever is going on started back then." She runs her hands over her legs as if she's merely smoothing the material. Sam's eyes follow and she struggles to hide her glee. It couldn't just be an involuntary act, because who wouldn't want to watch her touch herself? All men, she thinks, are the same, in the end.

He leans back in his seat. "No way."

"Like I said, I hope I'm wrong." She angles her body so that he has to look her in the face. "But if I'm wrong about that, I'm still not wrong about him taking advantage of her now." She reaches for the door handle and pushes. "Just be careful. And maybe you should seriously have a word with June. For her sake." A smile flits across her face. Her pretty and comforting one. "And thanks for the ride, Sam. Maggie really is...," her eyes flick downward and then slowly climb up, "lucky. I'm sure she knew nothing about any of this."

She leaves him there, dumbstruck in his truck, and makes it to Karen's front door just as the sky cracks open. She touches her lips and realizes she's grinning and hopes she was able to hide it from Sam, not that it matters. He was practically in another world.

Sam Patterson is truly a delight. Melissa would have liked to fuck him one day, but she'll settle for fucking with his mind, instead.

John was out in his yard the next afternoon, looking for her. She knows he was looking for her because he could hardly look away from her house. She wanted to go to him—she still does—but it's best she stays away. For now. She's unsure of how long she will last. She's not punishing him for avoiding her, but she knows that she's rushing toward something, and she's terrified it's disaster.

She thinks back to the night before and smiles. Maybe she is punishing him a little. He made her feel used and less than, and his apology and explanation didn't make that horrible feeling go away. Then last night happened and... With him in her hands and mouth, she felt powerful and brilliant. When they were finished and he reached for her, she felt like a fucking goddess.

June understands his reasoning and sympathizes with his situation. Up until recently, he must have thought he had an idyllic marriage, though June struggles with that thought. How could he have been so blind to what Melissa is?

She stands and regards herself in the mirror. She looks older to herself, though nothing has changed. Her hair is back in a braid and she's wearing a t-shirt that says, "Hell Hath No Fury" with ripped up denim shorts. She should look younger than she is, but it's in the eyes. Her mother used to say that, she thinks, with a pang of unpleasantness. Everything is in the eyes, especially a person's true age.

Thoughts of her mother always depress her, and recently make her think of Melissa. The two women could be twins. Maybe that's why June hates Melissa so much; she not only sees her mother, but also the woman she's terrified of becoming.

But no, June thinks. She's different. She thrilled in the power she had over John the night before, but only because she had the power to please him. It was a different kind of power than the one Melissa craved. There was nothing giving about that kind of power. June doesn't mind the power seems to occasionally be in John's hands, either, that the power exchanges between them. It makes it feel equal.

June supposes that what's going on with John has matured her a bit and she can't be sorry about the heartache he gave her. He seems to have gotten over it, anyway. She smiles. He's worth it, all of it.

She thinks of him with his messy hair and direct eyes, the scruff that seems ever-present on his face. She recognizes maybe she still thinks of him a little too highly than he might deserve, but she's resigned to the fact that she is wild about him.

A breeze blows in hot hair from outside and then the rain starts to fall. June sighs and plops back onto the bed. She planned on sitting outside and perhaps running into John.

Maggie knocks. "Can you help me with dinner?"

"Sure."

June preps the salad and watches her aunt furtively, wondering if she can confide in her. She already told Lisa about what she did with John and her friend squealed so loud it hurt June's ear. She doubts Maggie will have the same reaction, but she doesn't want to sneak around and she really wants to talk about it.

"I saw John last night," June begins, focusing on the cucumber she is cutting. Maggie stills in the middle of the kitchen. "He drove me home. Apologized for ignoring me."

Maggie moves again and June takes a breath. "Good." She pulls out a pot and puts some water in it. "Will you get me the spaghetti, babe?"

June does as Maggie asks and stands close to her as her aunt waits for the pot to boil. "I don't think I can stay away from him, Maggie."

"I didn't think you would," she sighs.

"I know it might be a mistake." June laughs a little. "A huge mistake. But it'll be my mistake, you know?"

Maggie pats June's long hair and sighs again. "When the hell did you get to be such a grown-up?"

Sam walks into the house, dripping with rain. Maggie still has her hand on June's hair as she turns to smile at him. "I knew you'd be late for dinner. I won't even remind you that you swore to me at least several times that you wouldn't be late because I'm just that forgiving."

June picks up on a very peculiar vibe coming from Sam before her aunt does and it unsettles her. Sam is usually in an excellent mood, all smiles and jokes, but he can turn sulky from time to time. They rarely fight, but when they do, June knows to slink away to her room and wait for it to blow over. She gets the sense this might be one of those times, though she wishes Sam wouldn't fight with Maggie in her condition.

She takes a few steps in the other direction but Sam's voice stops her. "Where are you going?"

The question is cold and accusatory. June is confused. "Nowhere. Upstairs."

"Which is it? Nowhere or upstairs?"

Maggie looks between them, confused. "Sam..."

"I'm just going upstairs until dinner is ready."

Sam nods. "We'll call you down."

She feels a tingle of something unsettling, like she's done something awful. Sam never speaks to her like this. The closest he's come to something like this tone is when she snuck out with Lisa a few years before. She looks at Maggie and her aunt just shrugs, so she heads upstairs.

The rain has come in from the open window in her bedroom. June rushes to close it and grab a towel. If Sam sees it in his current state, he'll absolutely freak. Then she hears Sam's booming voice vibrating through the walls.

June has no idea what her aunt and uncle are screaming about, but she gets the horrible impression that it's about her.

June Silva is ignoring him.

John has made sure to be outside at every opportunity possible, and yet June never makes an appearance. Her car sits unused on the block, and her blinds never open. He wonders if she's sick.

It's been three days since they were together and she's been all he's thought about. Of course, he still mourns the loss of Melissa, even knowing what a fucking monster she is. He misses their routines, mostly, the little things folded into a day that make it comforting. Things were never perfect between them, but they had always been comfortable. Too comfortable, John guesses.

For the millionth time, he looks over at June's. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and goes on mowing the lawn, trying to get his head straight. Maybe she has second thoughts about him. He can't blame her. He's more than a bit of a mess right now.

Sam Patterson pulls up in his tow truck. John waves, but Sam never looks over. That's odd, John thinks. Sam is one of the friendliest people he knows. They always wave to each other. Maggie even smiled at him recently and he figured, and hoped, she forgave him for June.

He wonders where Maggie is, too, now that he thinks about it. Usually she'd be out watering the flowers and chatting with other neighbors. Maybe it's too hot out.

A scary thought crosses his mind; what if something happened with the baby? Should he go over and knock?

Sam comes out of the house again and John decides he should just ask. He turns off the lawnmower and jogs over to catch Sam before he goes.

"Hey, Sam!" he calls. Sam looks up and stares at John with an unreadable expression. It throws John off a little. "How are you?"

His neighbor rolls his neck until it cracks. "Fine." His voice is flat.

"Maggie doing okay?"

Sam's voice gets even flatter. "Fine." He shifts as he stands there in the melting sun and there is a dangerous flicker in his eyes.

And then something shifts between them. A message is exchanged in a way only men can understand, a nonverbal and quiet transference of information not needed to be uttered.

He knows, John realizes with a start, and based off of his attitude, he most definitely does not approve.

"Listen," John starts, but then he runs out of things to say. How can you apologize for getting involved with someone way too good, way too young and way too pure for you? Sam thinks of her as a daughter, John knows. He's protective of her. Loves her. Would do anything to shield her from him.