Eric or Erica? Pt. 07 - Sex Stories

Eric or Erica? Pt. 07

... and caught my tear on his fingertip. "You cry for a man who hurt you so badly. You cry for a man who treated you like a piece of meat. You cry for a man who brutalized you." He shook his head. "You are an amazing woman, Erica O'Brien."

"Why? Why did you do this? Do you love me?"

"I'll answer your last question first. No, I don't love you. At least not in the sense you're implying. Sex with you was amazing. Being around you is amazing. I love the way you embrace your true self; I love the way you have found yourself. I love your strength, your intelligence and your sense of humor. But I don't love you romantically."

"I did this because some people don't deserve to be alive. They don't appreciate the joy of being alive. The only thing that makes them happy is hurting other people."

He paused. "Did you ever see the movie Tombstone?"

"Yes." I replied totally confused. "What does that have to do with Russell?"

"Remember when Wyatt Earp asked Doc Holliday about Johnny Ringo's motivations?"

"Yes."

Dan closed his eyes like it would help him remember the scene.

"A man like Russell has got a great big hole, right in the middle of him. He can never kill enough, or steal enough, or inflict enough pain to ever fill it."

I played the Wyatt Earp role. "What does he need?

"Revenge."

"For what?"

"Bein' born."

"You were his Huckleberry, weren't you?"

He nodded. Another tear rolled down my cheek. This time for Dan.

"Can I see you tonight? I'm ...

... off, I'd like to be with you. I want to be with you."

He peered into my eyes. "I don't need to be with you tonight."

I peered right back into his. "I never said you did. I need to be with you tonight. I don't for one minute, not even one second, believe that what you did didn't take some kind of toll on you. And while you may not have done this totally on my account, I'm in that ledger book somewhere. I want to pay you back. I need to pay you back. Mr. Z taught me that."

Dan and I had an amazing night of sex. It was crazy. There is no doubt in my mind that somewhere deep inside him, some place he had walled away; Dan felt guilty about what he had done. That spark of humanity still burned inside him. He did what he felt he needed to do but he didn't enjoy it. I made love to that spark of humanity.

The months flew by. I was 331 days sober and counting when I got the news from our family lawyer. My mom and dad had been killed by a drunk driver. They had just been out grocery shopping in the morning when a guy who was out drinking all night ran a red light, broadsided them and pushed them into three lanes of morning rush hour traffic. The rescue personnel had to cut them out of the wreck with the 'Jaws of Life.' The lawyer assured me they had died almost instantaneously. By the time the EMT's arrived and began to cut them out of the wreckage, there were no signs of life at all in either of them.

The drunk driver was the son of a high placed, state politician. This was ...