Scarlet Rendezvous - Sex Stories

Scarlet Rendezvous

... different scenarios of Rick dying.

Finally, I gave in and watched it. His kidnappers were standing over him in hoods and ski masks. Rick was sitting on the cement floor in some abandoned building in handcuffs, beat to a pulp but still alive. They were telling him to read a statement, but he refused. Then the guy standing behind him did it, took out a long knife and beheaded him.

The video calmed my imagination -- at first. It enabled me to process what had happened, and move forward. Or at least I thought it did. For a week or two I seemed to be getting better. I could eat and sleep again. Then it was time to go home, back to New York.

When I landed at JFK in the summer of 2020, Karina was there to meet me. I hugged her and we drove back to Queens. She told me about her freshman year in college, and how she gave up doing karate. I wasn't around to train her, and she started to lose interest. But she was meeting new people, and doing new things. College had opened her mind, and she was "exploring." She really enjoyed hanging out with Tiffany, her adventurous roommate. Tiffany was trying to convince Karina to model, and to maybe even try some acting.

I listened and nodded from the passenger seat, not hearing much of what she was saying. I couldn't focus or concentrate. She asked me if there was something wrong, and I said there wasn't.

Things only continued to get worse. That summer I didn't work, and just lived off the money from my latest defense contract. I ...

... had a ton of it, though most was hidden in off-shore bank accounts at the advice of my accountant, who suggested I keep it there after the tragedy with Rick. No telling what the future held, and which parties might try to come after it.

I drank too much, trying to self-medicate. The video of Rick kept playing in my mind, the men in masks shouting at him in Russian, and him just sitting on the ground in handcuffs, beaten unrecognizable. I kept thinking I knew the building, that I figured out where they'd taken him after all. Jesus Christ, how could I have missed this? Then I'd go and watch the video in the basement in the dark, playing it over and over again, realizing that what I thought I'd figured out was complete bullshit speculation, that there was no way in hell to know where those mother fuckers were when they cut off his head.

Sometimes Karina would come downstairs, wanting to see me. She would always ask what I was doing, if I was okay. I would turn off the video, mostly in time for her to miss the worst parts. Once she heard Rick screaming, and asked if that was my friend who got killed in Afghanistan. I lied and said no, it wasn't, but she didn't believe me. Karina wasn't stupid. In fact, she was extremely intelligent.

Sometimes she would politely suggest I get counseling, for both my depression and alcoholism. I would shake my head and tell her I was fine, that I didn't need any help. She would then ask why I was down in the basement in the dark so much, ...