A Pawn for Malice(2)

By: Cynthia Roberts


Jessica shuddered, as tears streamed from her eyes. It was over. The District Attorney exonerated her based-on self-defense. Now, all she had to do was get away from Hal Wilton, who she knew, would do everything in his power to stop her. She gazed upon the casket still feeling hopeful. Nothing was going to stop her. Not even the great Hal Wilton.

The party she had attended with her Aunt the night that Richard had died, had been a liberating and glorious reprieve for the short while they were together. What she hadn’t expected, was her immediate fondness for the handsome Senator from upstate New York the party had been hosted for. However, brief their introduction was, he was a man that was hard to forget.

Sen. Gallagher was the kind of man a woman wanted to see his slippers under her bed, and his body in it. Despite his charm and formidable good looks, he stood behind a political platform she respected. Jessica understood why her Aunt supported his re-election for office so adamantly. He was a decorated Special Forces Marine veteran and a well-respected former police detective for the City of Albany. Her Aunt had confided that evening, that when she told the Senator of Jessica’s degree in public relations and communications, he was interested in speaking with her about a vacancy in his executive office for Director of Communications.

Jessica never had the chance to have that talk, since he was whirled away on some state emergency. Just to know that chance was hers, gave Jessica the kind of hope for escape she could cling to. She knew that her Aunt would help her accomplish that goal.

I wish I was there right now, she admitted silently.

`There was nothing she needed more, than a new start, knee deep in a position that would fill her days and many evenings, working for a distinguished senator, who was bent on changing the world. If it wasn’t for her Aunt Florence being called away for an emergency board meeting, Jessica knew her Aunt would have been there right now by her side, striking fear into the likes of Hal Wilton.

She watched as those before her shuffled uncomfortably, exchanging nervous glances amongst themselves. She pitied them for the mindless puppets they had become, and detested Hal for making them that way. She shot her father-in-law a look of disgust.

Hal Wilton reined with tyranny both over the town he owned and his family. Even now, they stood high upon a dais, separating them from the “little people”, as he so often referred to the townspeople as.

Jessica jumped with a start and stiffened, when Hal’s left hand glided along her back and began to massage it seductively. As his palm slid to her derriere and cupped it possessively, she reached her left hand behind and dug her manicured nails into his flesh, until he released her. Even though he could not see her face, she still sent him a look of disdain.

“Stop it!” She hissed in a voice that was low, yet menacing.

She took a quick step sideways and looked about to see if any one witnessed the exchange. She wanted nothing more than to slap the snicker from his face, as he then reached his arm about his wife’s shoulder, pretending to be the consoling husband and grieving father, spurring his wife to whimper even louder.

She shook her head slowly, despising the display. She didn’t exactly hate the woman. She felt … what? Not respect … not love … maybe, empathy. She noticed the tears streaming down the woman’s porcelain cheeks, still ageless and beautiful. It was so out of character for the woman to show any kind of emotion, as emotion caused wrinkles. Heck! The woman’s lips were as tight as her newly-lifted ass.

Her mother in-law loved no one more than herself. She never once showed any signs of outward affection for her son. Jessica understood why. He was a clone of his father.

You failed miserably as a mother, Lorraine, she quietly chastised. His death was partly your fault too, for not standing up to that bastard you married.

Jessica scanned the faces again before her. The words spoken by Father Mulcahy did not penetrate her brain. Nothing he said mattered really. This probably could have all been avoided, if she had left Richard, when things had started to get bad. She was so naïve then, believing he would change, believing he would realize how wonderful she was and how much she had loved him.

Life had not been fair, and dealt many a lousy hand. First, her mother died, giving her life. Her dad was killed in a plane crash, when she was six. And then, her marriage to one of Maine’s “Golden Boys,” turned out to be a travesty.

She knew that her fate would have proved differently though, if her Aunt had been the one to raise her. Instead, her paternal grandmother was given custody and when the time was ripe, she fell prey to Hal Wilton’s charm and control. Unbeknownst to Jessica, they had connived a plan to bring his son and her together in marriage.

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