Tag Archives: Siobhan

A Hard Rain; chapter nine, part one

Back in the hotel room, Leslie powers up her computer and flips on the TV as well.  She wants to see what the press is saying about the disappearance of Rose, if anything.  On the face of it, one random disappearance doesn’t get much air play, especially if the victim isn’t a pretty young white girl.  However, with Rose’s connection to Senator Robertson (however tangential), Leslie has a hunch that the local news will at least pay lip-service to the case.  She is right.  The news gives the bare bones of the situation and hint that the disappearance may be connected to the murder of Amy Robertson, daughter of Senator Robertson, roughly a year ago.  None of them offer any evidence of such a connection, but nobody cares about facts these days.  Ratings were all that mattered, and a senator’s daughter’s murder added ratings to any story.

“The chief,” Leslie murmurs to herself.  She would like to follow him, but she knows better than that.  Even though the Chicago players don’t know of her existence, they would be bound to notice an Asian woman paying close attention to them.  Besides, Leslie does not think the chief is her top priority, so she shelves him for now.  She focuses instead on Jonah Bronson.  She has to admit it’s purely prejudicial as she hates child molesters with a passion.   She knows it’s in large part to her own history, and she hates how her experiences with Mr. Liu has permanently marked her.  Even in a healthy, loving relationship such as the one she has with John—had, she reminds herself sternly—she had not been completely free from her past.


“Oh, John.  Fuck me harder!”  Leslie gasped, grabbing John’s ass so she could pull him closer to her.  She needed to fill every inch of his cock—and more—in order to stave away the demons.  They had been swarming around her mind for days, and the best way to rid them was, well, to have sex.

“Like that, Leslie?”  John thrust his cock in as far as he could, and then he pushed it in a bit further.  Leslie gasped as he hit her sweet spot—one she hadn’t even known she had before John.  “Is this what you want?”  John grabbed Leslie’s shoulders in his hands so he could get better purchase.  Instantly, Leslie froze as she flashed back to a time when Mr. Liu had done just that.


“This is the proper way to get fucked, Leslie,” Mr. Liu said, his fingers biting into Leslie’s slim shoulders.  “Open your legs wider.”

“I can’t!”  Leslie was crying, but that only seemed to excite Mr. Liu even more.

“Do it!”  Mr. Liu shook Leslie by the shoulders until she forced her legs even wider apart.  Mr. Liu wasn’t very big, thankfully, but it still hurt like hell every time he fucked her as he didn’t care too much about preparation.

“It hurts!”  Leslie wailed as Mr. Liu paused in his movements.

“It’s supposed to, you little minx.  That just makes it feel better for me.”

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A Hard Rain; chapter one, part five

As soon as the detectives leave, Leslie is off like a shot to find Siobhan.  Leslie’s mind is whirling with the news she’s been told, and she still doesn’t know what the fuck to think.  One thing she does know, however, is that she needs to get to John’s computer before the cops do.  If what they are telling her is true, she knows she can find the answers on John’s laptop.  He password-protected everything, and two weeks, three days, thirteen hours, twenty-four minutes, and nineteen seconds after he moved in, he had shown her his password list as he placed it in the top drawer of his desk.  He wanted her to know that he had faith in her and that he had no secrets from her.  Of course, Leslie never bothered using the passwords because she figured John would tell her anything she wanted to know, but she is grateful for them now.

Leslie finds Siobhan in Aileen’s room, reading a story.  Bedtime had been thrown into chaos because of the cops, of course, so Siobhan is just now settling in her youngest child, even though it’s 8:58 p.m. and forty-three seconds, and Aileen’s usual bedtime is 8:30 p.m.  Leslie waits for Siobhan to finish the story as she does not want to interrupt the mother-daughter bonding that is happening.  Leslie had not experienced much of it when she was a child because her mother had suffered from postpartum and was only interested in Lisa, Leslie’s twin, after she recovered, but Leslie knows from reading psychology textbooks and self-help books and from her own therapy sessions that mother-child bonding is very important.  She taps her foot as she waits, but is otherwise silent.  Finally, after what seems like ages, but is actually only five minutes and seventeen seconds, Siobhan is finished reading about a caterpillar that eats a lot.  Siobhan kisses her sleepy daughter on the forehead and tiptoes out of the room, closing the door halfway behind her.

“What did the cops tell you?”  Leslie asks as soon as Siobhan is in the hallway.

“Let’s go downstairs and talk about it,” Siobhan takes Leslie by the arm and leads her to the living room.  Siobhan refuses to say a word until they are safely away from the children.

“What did the cops tell you?”  Leslie repeats her question as soon as they are sitting on the couch.  Siobhan sighs, fiddles with a knickknack on the coffee table, and finally answers.

“They asked me what I knew about John.  I told them what I knew, except for the sex stuff, of course.”  Siobhan and Leslie exchange wan grins.  They joked often about how hot Italian lovers were—and how big.  Siobhan straightens her shoulders and continues.  “They asked me a few questions about you.  They seemed especially curious about—”  Siobhan stops and looks flustered.

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A Hard Rain; chapter one, part three

“You’re coming home with me,” Siobhan announces, bringing Leslie reluctantly back to the present.  She holds up a hand to stem Leslie’s incipient protest.  “I know you, Les.  You have been OCD’ing over John since the cops told you what happened.  You probably hadn’t eaten since then until I showed up.  You’re brooding.”  Siobhan brushes her red curls out of her eyes, but they just fall back into place.  “It’s not healthy for you, and you love the Terrible Trio.  They’ll cheer you up.”

“I can’t leave Josephine,” Leslie protests.  Josephine meows her agreement.  She hates being separated from her human for any appreciable amount of time—meaning more that twenty-four hours.

“Bring her with.  You know she loves the Terrible Trio and the Beastie Boys, too.”  The Terrible Trio consists of two boys and a girl, ages ten, eight-and-a-half, and seven-and-a-half.  The Beastie Boys are brother cats, one a gray tabby, and one a ginger with streaks of white, and both completely besotted with Josephine.  It’s funny to watch a six-pound girl cat dominate two sixteen pound former tom cats.

“Oh, all right.”  Leslie doesn’t even bother to put up a token protest because she doesn’t actually want to be at home alone with her memories of John.  She has spent most of her time in her computer room because that’s the room in which he had spent the least amount of time.  They had converted one of the other bedrooms into his office, and that’s the room Leslie has so far refused to enter.  She had tried, but his smell was everywhere—and she had fled the room, crying, with Josephine hot on her heels.

Leslie goes up to her room to throw together a duffle bag.  She doesn’t know how long she’ll be staying at Siobhan’s, but it doesn’t really matter as they live in the same neighborhood, only two streets apart.  If she forgets anything, she can just walk back home to get it—or borrow it from Siobhan.  They are approximately the same size, though Leslie has more boob than does Siobhan.  Siobhan, on the other hand, had twice the junk in the trunk than had been afforded Leslie.  Still, since neither of them wear very tight clothing, they are able to borrow each other’s wardrobe with little problem.

“Meow!”  Josephine lets out a tiny meow, her tail drooping.  Leslie’s heart smites her because she knows Josephine is missing John, too.  Leslie had explained to Josephine what had happened to John, and while Josephine had nodded her understanding, she still didn’t seem to quite grasp the concept of ‘never coming back’.

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