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Authors: Jeny Stone

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Possessed by a Stranger

BOOK: Possessed by a Stranger
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POSSESSED BY A STRANGER

BY

JENY STONE

 

 

 

 

SMASHWORDS EDITION
Copyright @ 2013 by Jeny Stone

 

 

All rights reserved. This
book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any
manner whatsoever without the express permission of the author or
publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical
articles and reviews. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the
author.
We would love to hear from you.

 

 

 

his is a work of fiction, names, places,
businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or
locales is purely coincidental.

 

DEDICATION
: To Timmy and
David.

 

Visit our website
http://www.jenystone.com/

Jeny Stone can be reached by
email
[email protected]

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

Rigid with anticipation, Hannah’s right arm
tensed and released in unison with each second that ticked away on
the countdown clock. Her index finger hovered over the enter key
with her eyes glued to the seventeen inch computer screen. She was
prepared to push enter on the four second mark. Her timing had
proven to be precise, practiced, and profitable on more than one
occasion. Her final bid of four thousand and one dollars, one
dollar over the last bid, waited to zip through the internet to zap
the pending bid one millisecond before the bidding ended.

Six, five, press…she inhaled as the fate of
her bid rested in the tip of her finger. Frozen in that exact
moment, Hannah waited for the flashing results of either
‘Congratulations you won the bid’ or ‘sorry’ to scroll across the
screen.

She exhaled “YES”, long and
loud as

Congratulations you won the bid’ skipped across the screen
from the right side, disappearing letter by letter on the left. An
adrenalin rush exploded inside her, seeping out of every pore. With
a swift push of her foot on her hardwood floor, her arms
victoriously reaching for the ceiling, she spun around several
times in her chair. Jumping from the chair, she performed her twist
and twirl victory dance as the cheap vinyl computer chair crashed
into an eighteenth century upholstered wing chair. With her cheeks
moist from the overflow of tears trying to revive her LCD strained
eyes, Hannah danced around her living room before she collapsed on
her couch.

Alone in her apartment, with no one to share
the excitement of the acquisition of a lifetime, she kicked her
feet in the air, screaming for the pure joy of the moment. Rapid
pounding on the wall connected with the adjoining apartment, shut
her up.

“Sorry. I’m fine.” She yelled through the
paper-thin walls, to her nosy neighbor before the wobbling pictures
on the wall crashed to the floor. The elderly woman next door sat
on her couch against that wall. She pounded over the slightest
sound. The next person that moved into this apartment was in for a
real treat with Sadie, the self-appointed apartment monitor.
Hannah’s neighbor was bored out of her mind with nothing to do but
spy on the neighbor’s, pounding on the walls and ceilings,
demanding total silence.

Too bad, so sad, Hannah thought, since soon,
it wouldn’t be her under Sadie’s microscope. In two short months,
she would move into an apartment with her new husband. Only the
thought of her impending nuptials could douse her high spirits, and
it did, in a flash flood of trepidation. The closer the date loomed
in her future the higher the foreboding grew. Her spineless body
ruined any chance of wild passionate love by giving her a soft
bleeding heart. She couldn’t disappoint their friends and families
who anxiously anticipated the upcoming union.

A decision must be made, but for now, like
always, she postponed anything confrontational. Instead, she
decided to share her joy with Jay, which seemed a bit irrational,
even to her. Her fiancé was her best friend, just not the object of
her desires. She loved him, but wasn’t in love with him, which
clouded her decision-making. Her passive nature opted for
comfortable, dull and fulfilling others expectations. It eliminated
hurting anyone, except in this case, herself.

Oh well, so be it, she thought as she
showered and dressed to spring a surprise visit on the man she
would spend the rest of her life trying to fall in love with.
Supposedly, all the best marriages started out as friends first,
lovers second. She would soon put that theory to a test, or
not.

It was hotter than hell
outside of her air-conditioned apartment so she decided
on a cotton, blue flowered dress with a fitted
bodice that buttoned in the front. She only
fastened
the buttons necessary for
modesty, along her torso. The buttons below her upper thighs were
useless as far as she was concerned. At five foot four, she adopted
long strides, to keep up with longer legged people. Her strides
would pop the buttons loose, or off, if she did button
them.

Hannah viewed herself in
the antique mirror on her dresser. Except for her couch, computer
and computer chair, all her furnishings were aged, built during a
time when things were crafted to last. She treasured her furniture,
each piece filled with history, and hated that it would all have to
be stored in some crappy metal building until she could convince
Jay that, in furniture, older was better. Storing her antiques was
just one more concession that she was being forced to make on this
path to marital bliss.
Or marital
hell.
The jury was still out on that
one.

After she gathered her unruly curls into a
ponytail, she grabbed her wallet purse and threw the strap over her
head. She left her apartment to walk through the congested city
sidewalks. Perspiration glistened on her porcelain skin as soon as
she stepped into the sun-heated air, dripping with humidity. She
stopped at the nearest convenience store to pick up something to
drink. Jay only bought food or drinks according to what he planned
to consume in the next few hours.

She strolled along with the flow of
pedestrians the three blocks to Jay’s apartment. The hustle and
bustle of the four-block radius of Old Town was the reason she
remained in the nineteen twenties apartment complex. Originally
home to offices, the building had been converted after The
Depression. Even with the inconvenience of parking spaces being as
rare as the Hope Diamond, Old Town had a character all its own that
embraced her heart, touched her soul.

Through the front doors of the newer
apartment complex on the outskirts of the historical district, then
up two floors on the elevator, she stood in front of Jay’s
apartment. She almost hoped he was busy or locked up in some
televised sports event. Once he started watching men with any kind
of ball, a locomotive chugging through the living room wouldn’t
budge him. If so, her obligation to place him on a pedestal above
the rest of her friends, as he so frequently reminded her, would be
fulfilled. Then she could celebrate with her girlfriends. At least,
they pretended to listen to her dreams.

Armed with celebratory sparkling water, she
unlocked Jay’s front door. The stereo’s low boom, boom beat of the
bass was the telltale sign he was home. She pushed open his door as
she removed her keys from the lock. She stood in the doorway
putting her keys back in her purse. The light from the hallway
illuminated the mind shocking sight. Her fiancé, the man she was
supposed to marry in two months, after a year and a half
engagement, had his dick stuck in his secretary. Jay groaned as he
humped away, oblivious to her presence.

This was it. The eye opening moment of truth
where raw emotions break through the preconceived notions you’ve
imagined your life to be. This was the sign she needed to make a
difficult decision easy. A fucking, flashing, naked sign she
couldn’t possibly misconstrue.

Her muscle twitching shock, announced by the
breaking of glass from the sparkling water dropping out of her
hand, subsided quickly. The vision piercing her eyes sparked the
inferior temporal area of her brain, which farted in relief. The
anger, devastation and betrayal, which she assumed was normal in
this type of bizarre circumstances, refused to raise their ugly
heads. Instead, the unidentified and previously ignored weight from
her shoulders lifted upwards, floating away on a cloud of joy. She
felt gloriously free and light as a feather.

“Oh God! Hannah wait, wait…” Jay huffed,
breathing hard and fast.

He wanted her to wait, but for what, him to
finish, because that was exactly what was happening. She almost
wasted her life on that dumb ass. The comedy of the situation
wasn’t lost on Hannah, who was now relieved beyond belief. The
decision she refused to make, stared her in the face. Jay had made
it for her. Hannah withheld the urge to scream “thank you” at the
top of her lungs.

The bubble of laughter twitched in her
stomach as she tugged at the gaudy engagement ring on her finger.
He bought the big-ass-ring to impress his friends without any
regard to her simple taste in jewelry. She reared her arm behind
her head, pitching the ring across the room, hoping to hit him
between the eyes. Hannah slammed the door, as she walked away from
the, oh so close, biggest mistake of her life.

As she skipped down the
stairs, not taking the time to wait on the elevator, she tried to
comprehend the humongous change that just occurred in her life. She
had been a ‘we’ for over three years but now she was a ‘she’, ‘me’
or ‘I’ and God, it felt great.
Hello
Hannah Greer, so nice to meet you, where the heck have you
been?
She stopped at the bottom of the
stairs to dance her victory dance with more emotion than she had
felt in years. In a symbolic gesture, she pulled the ribbon from
her hair, setting free her ringlets of curls.

With a melody of celebratory songs singing in
her head, she walked the two blocks to the favorite watering hole
of all her friends. If ever there was anything that called for a
drink, this day was that thing. On her way, she greeted strangers
as if they were her closest friends and received odd,
crazy-lady-on-the-loose, looks in return. She wanted to sprinkle
her joyful mood over the city like a fresh blanket of snow. She
pirouetted several yards then continued on her walk as if nothing
just happened. Maybe she was as crazy as the people who now gave
her a wide path thought. She didn’t care because if this was crazy,
she was certifiable and she loved it.

She danced, waltzed and pranced into the
Irish styled bar on feet that felt as if they floated above the
wooden floor. She caressed the bar stool, at the end of the bar,
with her hips as she claimed the secluded seat. With her shoulders
replicating the beat of the music and a smile that just wouldn’t
quit, she waved at Larry, the bartender and longtime friend.

He hurried over, the way he always did, to
lean across the bar to face her. She always suspected he wanted
more than a friendship to happen between them. Jay was his best bud
so Larry had conceded to the first come rule. She and Larry
together would have been the same play with a different actor as
the leading man, because he just didn't do it for her either. Not
planning to make the same mistake twice, Hannah knew, even with
Larry patiently waiting in the wings, there would never be an
opening début of that particular play. “Hello gorgeous, you look
happier than I’ve seen you in quite some time.”

“I feel better than I have in quite some
time. As a matter of fact, I feel fan-frigging-tastic. I want a big
girl drink. Nothing you can smell…maybe something fruity or
sweet…and really strong.” The request sounded musical, even to her
ears. Frankly, it surprised Larry from his wide-eyed
slapped-in-the-face look

Larry stiffened, and then stood straight up.
“Very funny, you don’t drink. Do you want your usual?” He laughed
nervously.

The rules of distinction and loyalties
between a splitting-up couple shouldn’t be an issue at this point,
since she was a customer. Foremost, he had a job to do. There was
no possible way he could know what just transpired. Nothing could
spoil her euphoric high so she teased him into submission. “If I
had wanted my usual I would have asked for it. I’m of age and not
intoxicated by anything but a smile so you’re required to serve me
whatever my little heart desires. Are you going to serve me or do I
need to find a different bar with a cooperative bartender? A bar
where I’ll be all alone, with no one to look after me if I get
shit-faced.” With her elbows on the bar, she rested her chin on her
folded hands. She stared into Larry’s confused face. Her mouth
muscles started to ache from the smile still plastered on her
lips.

BOOK: Possessed by a Stranger
5.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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