Aftermath

“I said tell her to calm the fuck down.” Maisie was still naked, and she still had the recently deceased Randy’s pistol. Right now she is threatening the last of Randy’s crew, the one Randy called Nate, while he kneels on the floor.

“Whaaa?” Nate stammers.

“You heard me,” Maisie shouts at him. “Tell my cousin to calm the fuck down. You know about her curse, you are her master now. So command her.”

You don’t know what commands Randy gave Amber, but after she tried her best to save him from you, she had been lying on him and crying uncontrollably.

“Slut!” Nate yells, looking terrified. “Calm the fuck down.”

It works, the wailing from the porch stops. When you look out the door you see Amber sitting upright, wiping the tears from her face.

“Her name is Amber.” Maisie growls at Amber’s new master.

“But Randy changed it to slut. . .” Nate says before the butt of the pistol hitting his face cuts him off.

“Fuck!” Nate yells as he holds his jaw, you see a small trickle of blood leaking out between his fingers.

“Tell her, you fucking moron. Her name is Amber.” You’ve never seen Maisie like this. You’ve seen her focused and you know she has a reputation for ruthlessness in negotiations, but you’ve never seen her violent like this. It’s even crazier given she is completely nude.

“Oh!” Nate exclaims. “Slut, your name is Amber again.”

“Amber, come in here girl.” Maisie says firmly, but her voice shakes a bit. In that momentary slip you realize how tired your wife is.

As Amber walks in the door you take stock of the room. A single table and two metal folding chairs are the only furniture in the room. The table has some supplies on it, a gag, rope, the scanner the guy from the truck used. You walk over and grab a folding chair, throw it towards Nate. You gesture with the muzzle of your rifle and he takes the hint, setting the chair up and sitting in it.

Maisie looks your way, sees you are watching Nate and turns to care for her cousin.

“She have any clothes here?” Maisie asks.

“No, Randy brought her here like that.” Nate answers, holding his jaw. He seems to have realized cooperating is his only real chance of surviving the day.

“Maisie, watch him.” You say. When she turns the pistol back on Nate you set the rifle down, take off your shirt, and hand it to Maisie. It’s at least something.

You sit in the other folding chair and point the gun at Nate then nod at Maisie. She takes your shirt and she and her cousin get dressed. Nate sees your face and locks his eyes on the ground until the women are covered. He’s young and scared, he might be alright.

“Now, Nate, right?” Maisie says.

“Yeah, Nathan.” The young man replies.

“We’re going to have a little talk, Nathan.” Maisie continues, “If you are smart, you’ll do exactly what we tell you, and you will walk out of here a wealthy man. If you don’t, you die, and we go find someone else.”

Forty minutes later Nathan gets in the truck they brought Maisie in and drives away. Once he’s gone you head out yourself, hiking back to the cabin where your vehicle is. The trip gives Maisie time with Amber and it gives you time to decompress from everything that just happened. You killed a man. Hell, you shot him in his face when he was already down. You don’t feel bad about that, you feel like you should, like ending another person’s life should affect you more, but it doesn’t. You also feel proud of Maisie. It was her plan; she was the one who accounted for so many different possibilities.

Maisie expected Amber would have commands that would cause her to protect Randy. She expected they would have some way to detect the listening devices. She was the one that prepared for a bunch of different possible outcomes and then in the moment saw the path to ending it. She had even written the command that let you see Randy’s heart through Maisie’s chest. You just took the shot. You tried not to think about that part too much, the part where you shot your wife and could only yell out desperately, hoping she heard and was healed. After all, Randy was dead, Maisie and Amber were alive. However it got to that point, the important part was it ended the right way.

Maisie had done a great job with Nathan and Amber too. She had Nathan cancel any commands on Amber while giving her curse-enforced emotional distance from everything she had gone through. The current arrangement with Nathan was another Maisie scheme. He would stick around for a few days in case Amber needed any more commands to help her deal with her trauma. Of course any command would be texted and cleared by Maisie before being shown to Amber.

In a week or so Nathan would be out of the country, shipped off to an island somewhere with a generous stipend in a bank account. As long as he lived there and complied with the yearly check-ins with Maisie he’d have a life of relative luxury. For security, Amber had commands from Nathan that let her know where he was anytime she wanted. She had a command that let her know if Nathan plotted to harm her in any way. She had a command to contact Maisie before following any command given her and explain what she had been commanded. Before he left the country, they would enact the final safeguard, one that made Amber aware of his presence if he came within 100 miles of her. Nathan was made very aware that the price of violating his side of the agreement would be his **** and replacement as Amber’s curse-holder.

It seemed air-tight, like Maisie had thought of everything. If it worked Amber would be safe. You couldn’t help but wonder what her future held. She’d been through a lot, you can’t imagine she would step back into her everyday life like nothing had happened. She could stay with you for a bit, Maisie’s home office had a fold out couch she could sleep on, but after that you couldn’t guess. How does a person just go back to normal life after something like that?

It’s a question for you and Maisie too. You’d both killed someone, and Maisie had been inside that house, **** to strip for that man, call him master. She saw him make her cousin hurt herself. Damn it, Maisie knew it would be like this. She tried to avoid it. You were the one that decided Randy had to be stopped. You weren’t wrong either, you know that now more than ever, but the price. . . You could only hope it wouldn’t be too steep.

You are still thinking about Maisie when you emerge from the woods back at the cabin you were bringing Claire to in a week. Well, if the day camp still happened once the cabin and the bodies inside it were found. Getting into your SUV you drive around till you find the overgrown road with the busted gate and drive up to the cabin where Maisie and Amber were waiting.

The ride home was quiet. A haunting quiet only interrupted by the few phone calls Maisie made. First to Stefan, letting him know you’d be swinging by to swap your boots and drop off the rifle. Getting a new barrel on the rifle wouldn’t make the police less suspicious, but it would make your involvement harder to prove. The second phone call was to a highly respected doctor who was willing to make house calls for people willing to pay enough for his time. She would need to check on Amber’s physical condition as well as gather DNA evidence from Amber.

Maisie had ruled out trying to hide what happened in the cabin. It would be easier to shape the event than make it disappear. But there was a lot riding on Maisie’s ability to negotiate with the authorities. You were nervous about it, but you’d seen Maisie in action, and with a few well-worded commands she should be able to handle it.

That night, after the doctor left and Amber had fallen asleep things remained tense. Claire wouldn’t be back until the next afternoon, a sleep over with her best friend bought them the night to not just get Amber safely away from Randy, but also to give them some time to figure out what came next. As you watch your wife walk into your bedroom, you realize it won’t be enough. Maisie avoids eye contact with you, and when you try to comfort her, she flinches at your touch. You ask her what is wrong, but she will only tell you she’s tired, she needs to sleep. It hurts to see your wife like this. It hurts even more that you can’t help her. You give her space, sleep on the edge of the bed as Maisie curls up on the far side facing away from you.

You lay there, unable to sleep, listening for the sound of your wife falling asleep. The subtle change in breathing that would let you relax; let you know she was at least able to rest. It doesn’t come. Eventually you pass out and awaken to an empty bed. You get up, dress and walk out of your bedroom to find your wife. She’s in the kitchen with Amber, they stop talking at your approach. You try to be understanding, they’ve both been through a lot, Maisie needs time to process, time to get back to herself. Even though it was her plan, you were well aware that it was you that pushed to confront Randy. It was the right decision, Amber being here verified that. But everything Maisie had gone through she had wanted to avoid, and yet she did it. She had walked into that cabin alone, she had seen things that no person should ever see. You shot her, and then she killed a man. She would need some time. You keep telling yourself that. Maisie needs time.

Claire returns that night, immediately hits it off with “Aunty Amber.” They play games and Claire cuddles with her when they watch a movie. Claire is good for Amber, but your wife stays distant. The next day you try to talk to Maisie, she cries and apologizes, says it isn’t your fault, but she needs time. You wonder how much. Maisie does well with Claire, Claire knows her mommy is sad, but Maisie reads to her and hugs her a lot. Claire knows her mommy loves her, mommy’s just also sad.

It’s the next day, the day Amber gets a hotel room, that Maisie walks into your room after putting Claire to bed and breaks down.

“Babe, I can’t get past it.” She says, her tears running down her face.

“It’s okay, Em, it was a lot.” You try to comfort her, support her.

“No. . .” she trails off, the tears come harder, she can’t speak. You go to her but she pulls away. “I’m sorry, Babe.” She says, reaching her hand out, making herself touch you. You stand there, Maisie’s hand on your chest, not knowing what to do. So you do what you can.

“Maisie, I love you, no matter what. Our vows, for better or for worse, I meant it. I’m not going anywhere, and I’m here to help you.”

“I know.” She sniffles as she says it, her hand still on your chest awkwardly.

You stand there in silence a bit longer.

“Babe,” Your wife says, looking at the ground. “I want you to make me forget.”

“What?” You ask.

“Not permanently, just for tonight.” She says, still looking down. “I need you, I need to feel you, I just. . . I just can’t get it out of my head.”

For the last ten years, ever since the day she took your voice, Maisie’s go to was always sex. Apology? Sex. Feeling sad? Sex. If she wanted to feel close to you, or she was stressed out, needed to focus but couldn’t, she would always turn to you for sex, and then she would feel better. And here, now, she couldn’t.

“How much do you need to forget?” You ask. You don’t even think it over in your head, if Maisie wants it, she’ll get it.

Maisie finally pulls her hand from you, tears start to roll down her cheeks. “I called him master.” She choked out before falling to her knees. She was bawling, finally letting it out.

Your mind went back, just a few days. She wanted you to embrace being her master, embrace the curse instead of fighting it. That night and the next few, the two of you had incredible sex, the big change being you acting as, and her calling you master. Something about it had worked for her, maybe all the years of dodging the curse made it a release to finally stop fretting, stop fighting it. You don’t know, you just know it worked for her. And now? You are standing over your wife, not knowing if it is okay to touch her as she sobs.

“It’s okay, Maisie, you did what you had to do.” You say, the last thing you want is her thinking you are mad at her for something like that.

“No, not that. I can’t look at you, I can’t touch you, I just see him.” She cries.

Your fists clench. If you could reanimate that fuckers corpse you’d. . . but that isn’t helping Maisie.

“You are my. . .” she couldn’t say it. “He, he did that to her. She did nothing to him, he didn’t care.”

You kneel down, get on the floor beside your wife. She’d been terrified of this damn curse her whole life, and she got to see her fears, got to experience it firsthand.

Her hand finds your knee. “I know you wouldn’t, I know you’d never, but. . . but you could. Any moment, any day you could walk in and. . .”

At least she wasn’t afraid of you. There was that silver lining in this shitty storm cloud.

“Or if they killed you, if someone finds out about the curse. . .”

Your wife was spiraling, losing herself in fear that was sadly legitimate.

“Maisie, I need you to listen to me.” You say softly.

She nods.

“Maisie,” you continue, “until you get out of bed tomorrow morning, you will forget anything from the last week that is causing you trauma or to feel terrified. Further, you won’t have any negative emotions attached to your knowledge of what we did for Amber. You won’t remember any detail about Randy, or the things he made you or Amber do. You will remember only a rough summary of what happened.”

Maisie’s hand tightened its grip on your leg as you spoke, doing your best to word it like Maisie would, thorough and clear. No weird gaps in memory that could scare her, just getting rid of the awful details and the feelings that went with them. When you finished, she looked up at you cautiously, then smiled.

“Oh Babe!” she cried as she threw herself into your arms. “I’m so sorry.”

You wrap your arms around her, stand up and hold her to you.

“Thank you.” She says as she kisses your neck. “For everything. I love you so much.”

This is the wife you know. And you know what is coming next, and there is something in that knowledge, that comfort and anticipation as she kisses up your jaw line, the corner of your mouth, then looks at you like she always does, letting you make the next move.

You kiss her, your hand finds the back of her head, right at the top of her neck, right where she likes it. You grip her hair as she moans into your mouth, her hands finding and squeezing your ass. She pushes you onto the bed. You smile, it’s been a while since she was aggressive like this.

“Oh Babe, I need your cock.” She says as she attacks your pants, unbuttoning your jeans and yanking them off of you. She carefully pulls the waist band of your boxers out, pulling your election up, a little to the side, then she lets it go, watching it jerk back to standing straight.

“God, I love your dick.” She says as she pulls your boxers off of you.

You should, you made it to order. You think for probably the thousandth time since that day ten years ago. She stops long enough to pull off the T-shirt, shorts and panties she was wearing, then dives in, taking your length in her mouth, aggressively licking and sucking you as she moans. You lie back, relax, and let her work. It feels fantastic, but it doesn’t compare to what is coming.

“Do you want more foreplay, Babe, or is it okay if I just ride this fucking cock?” She asks you after popping your head out of her mouth.

You respond by grabbing her under her shoulders and pulling her up to you, You kiss her again as she lays on top of you, her breasts pressing into your chest, her legs entwined with yours, the heat of her sex obvious as she rubs against your cock.

“Go get em’ cowgirl.” You say, and she smiles.

“Fuck, Babe.” Maisie cries out as you enter her. She starts moving. “Oh, fuck, I needed this.”

You get both hands on her breasts, cupping them with your thumbs underneath, massaging them roughly, slowly working toward her nipples, just the way she likes it.

“Oh, Fuck, Babe, I’m gonna. . .” She cries before she tenses on you. She stops moving, just stays still, straddling you, her hands on your chest as she rides out her first orgasm of the night. In a moment she starts moving again. faster this time. You love it when she’s like this, you just have to be mindful you don’t get too caught up in the sensation, Maisie’s probably going to go for quite a while tonight. You just hope it helps, that she’ll be a bit more herself in the morning.