Message-ID: <58462asstr$1231251003@assm.asstr.org>
From: rache <rache696@yahoo.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable
NNTP-Posting-Date: Tue, 6 Jan 2009 03:33:17 +0000 (UTC)
Complaints-To: groups-abuse@google.com
Injection-Info: g3g2000pre.googlegroups.com; posting-host=222.127.245.29; 
	posting-account=JabuVAoAAACpzQZHTRyS7ub3Un5mIVxy
User-Agent: G2/1.0
Subject: {ASSM} Cinderella 1 - 07 by Rachael Ross (Transformation, Fantasy, Romance)
Lines: 1161
Date: Tue, 06 Jan 2009 09:10:03 -0500
Path: assm.asstr.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

	A Cinderella Story
	By T.S.Severe


	Chapter Seven




    "Here you go!" Bambi was smiling. "A Bud Light and one champagne
cocktail...Anything else I can get for you?"

    "That's fine. Thanks." Mike reached into his suit, navy blue today
and looking a little more respectable than what he'd been wearing the
other night. In fact, the man himself looked clean and fresh. He'd
shaved his face and combed his hair and while he wasn't handsome in
the classic sense, Mike was an attractive man nonetheless. It was his
maturity I liked, the experience worn on his his face and the strength
and confidence it implied. Mike was a survivor.

    "Thank you, sir," Bambi said, watching as he laid a fifty dollar
bill on her tray and she wasn't going to be bringing back his change,
what little of it there was.

    "Bye, Bambi." I giggled as she gave me a look, expressing her
curiosity. The man wasn't typical of our usual customers and I gave
her a tiny shrug with my eyes as I picked up my champagne. I drank it
slowly, as if I didn't have a care in the world.

    We were sitting in one of the reserved booths at the Brookline
Members Club and I had no idea why Cicero was there. I mean, he wanted
to see me, obviously, but I didn't know exactly what was on his mind
and so I wasn't saying a word. He knew some of my secrets, but I was
praying he didn't know all of them. I'd seen Mike kill a man and that
capacity for violence frightened me, much more than the man himself,
but I had to find out how much he really knew. That was the real
reason I was sitting there.

    "Nervous?" Mike asked me.

    "Should I be?" I wondered, glancing to the right and seeing Jake's
reassuring presence. 

    Jake was one of the bouncers and he always kept a close eye on me,
just because some guys didn't like surprises like the one between my
legs. Ray was there too, standing at the entrance, and Eric was behind
the bar, and this was my place. I was safe inside the club and Mike
was the outsider. After my initial surprise at seeing him, there was a
calm inside me that I wouldn't have expected. Much like stealing 12
million dollars, this was a new situation that should have terrified
me...But it didn't and I have no explanation for that.

    "That's a nice outfit," Mike said, ignoring my question and taking
a sip of his drink. "You look good all dressed up."

    I was wearing a one piece mini-dress in emerald spandex. It barely
covered my body and hid none of my charms, being tight enough to prove
I wasn't wearing anything but a skimpy thong beneath it. I'd borrowed
the dress from Heather with a kiss and promise to let her borrow
something of mine someday. I could well imagine what she would want.
Gina had done my makeup, as I was still learning the details of being
a woman, and she was very good at it. If I was gorgeous just being
myself, the girl's artistry had made me truly stunning. Intense
physical beauty can be extremely intimidating and even a jaded man
like Mike was having a hard time looking into my deep blue eyes.

    "Thanks," I said softly, bringing my eyes back to his without
turning my head and he blinked as if I'd struck him.

    "Where's Robert Patterson, Cindy?" Mike recovered quickly and I
drew a soft sigh, offering the man a playful pout as if disappointed
that he could somehow sit with me and ask about someone else.

    "Who?" I asked innocently after making him wait.

    "Don't play games," Mike said.

    "You know..." I practically purred, "...I'm supposed to be talking you
into fucking me right now."

    "Cindy..."

    "How hard would that be, I wonder?" I took a deep breath, lifting
my barely contained breasts and letting it out slowly as I reached for
his thigh.

    "Robert Patterson," Mike said. His cold, black eyes were staring
at me, but I was ignoring them, looking down as I ran my right hand up
his trousers and towards his lap.

    "I haven't seen him," I said, biting my bottom lip and looking up.
My hand found Mike's crotch and I felt his body stiffen as I pressed
my fingers against the semi-hard cock trapped there.

    "Since?" Mike asked me, shifting slightly and I was learning how
to lie finally, the way a magician does it. Misdirection and illusion,
and a lot of truth thrown in for good measure. People see what they
want to see, they hear what they want to hear; it's human nature and
as any cheating wife can tell you, the best lies are often those a man
will tell himself.

    "Wednesday," I answered, massaging Mike's hidden cock and feeling
it thicken noticeably.

    "You spent the night with him," Mike said, trying to ignore my
touch and a lot of men would've mistaken it for the crux of my
seduction. Physical contact was just one of my weapons, however, and a
man like Mike would understand that all of his senses were under
assault, but it was his heart that lay most vulnerable, I thought. He
wasn't protecting it very well.

    "Did I?" I pursed my lips, shrugging my left shoulder. I was
reaching deep between his thighs, digging against his balls with my
blood red fingernails. Scratching the man's growing itch.

    "Tell me about it," Mike said.

    "Buy us a bottle of champagne," I smiled back, happy that he only
thought I'd slept with Robert. How Mike knew that, I wasn't sure, but
it wouldn't have been hard for him to find out in any case.

    "That sounds expensive," he almost smiled.

    "I'm not worth it?" I was pouting again and I let go of his cock
just to punish him. "It'll look suspicious if you don't."

    "You have to earn it," Mike said. "Just tell me about Patterson."

    "You're mean," I said, giving the man my eyes and he held them for
a second, but then he looked away. "I want champagne."

    I gave Bambi a little wave as she stood at the bar and Mike wasn't
going to stop me. There were certain rules and one of them was that a
girl like me costs money. One drink wasn't going to buy much more than
ten minutes of my time and Mike knew it. A $300 bottle of Dom Perignon
would buy him a lot more and so the man had little choice but to
indulge me.

    "Robert was looking for a date," I said, lifting fresh champagne
while Mike poured his own glass. We didn't need a toast.

    "A date?" he asked me. "You were seeing him socially?"

    "Socially?" I smiled. "Were you really a cop? No. I was seeing him
professionally."

    "Okay." Mike narrowed his eyes. "You're an escort."

    "Isn't it obvious?" I giggled softly. "Don't look so shocked,
Michael."

    "You just didn't seem..." he shook his head. "Never mind. He met you
here?"

    "No," I said, sipping more champagne. "Brookline is strictly low
rent. I part time for an agency. It isn't bad."

    "Which one?"

    "New York Confidential. I'd give you a card, but I don't want to
embarrass you." I leaned close, dropping my voice to a whisper, "We're
terribly expensive."

    "I bet," he sighed and I shifted slightly, letting the spandex
ride up my crossed thighs as I turned towards him. "When did you..."

    "My turn," I shook my head, getting a curious look. "How did you
know I had Robert's phone?"

    Mike seemed to consider that for a moment, perhaps wondering just
how much he wanted to tell me. It was a fun little game we were
playing, but so long as I seemed to be telling the truth, a man like
Mike would want to do the same...Or so I hoped. Whatever had happened to
him since Nine-Eleven, he'd been a good guy once and he still
possessed that quality, that strength of character that I'd found so
attractive the first time I'd met him, and did again, I must admit.

    "I saw it on the bookcase when I went to your apartment," Mike
shrugged. "So I took a peek..."

    "While I was in the bathroom?" I frowned at him. "That isn't very
nice."

    "I was curious." Mike tipped his glass and took a drink. "And when
you gave me his wife's Rolex..."

    "That wasn't too smart of me was it?"

    "Probably not," he agreed.

    "I didn't steal it," I said with a careless shrug. "Robert gave it
to me."

    "His phone too?"

    "Yeah," I agreed. "He said he wouldn't be needing it."

    "Didn't that seem a little odd?"

    "Getting a phone?" I laughed. "You wouldn't believe some of the
things men give me."

    "Okay." Mike actually smiled at that.

    "He said, that way he'd always have my number," I sighed, smiling
at my fond remembrance. "It was kind of sweet, actually."

    "Did he say anything else?" Mike asked. "Like why he didn't need
his phone?"

    "Robert was going on vacation and..."

    "A vacation? Did he say where?"

    "No." I wrinkled my nose and reached for my glass. "Men say a lot
of things, making promises and all of that. It's all pillow talk. None
of it means anything."

    "What did he promise you, Cindy?"

    "He said he was getting a lot of money," I said. "Once Robert had
it, he'd take me away."

    "I see," Mike nodded. "But you didn't believe him."

    "Everybody wants to take me away," I said with a lyrical sigh.
"But I'm still here."

    "Do you think he loves you?" Mike asked and I looked up sharply,
not expecting that question, and my look was enough to put some color
in the man's cheeks.

    "Does it make you jealous?" I wondered, teasing Mike with a slow
smile.

    "What else did Patterson give you?" he continued, ignoring my
little jibe.

    "You mean the jewelry?" I giggled. "Robert gave me a lot of it,
but I'm not giving it back. Is that why you're here, Mike?"

    "No," he said, reaching for the bottle and drawing it from the ice
bucket.

    "So..." I asked him. "Why did you lie to me?"

    "What?"

    "You said you would help me," I said. "Remember? You promised."

    "Yeah," Mike nodded as he finished refilling our glasses. "Things
just got a little complicated, that's all."

    "What does that mean?"

    "It means I want to help you, but..."

    "But?"

    "I need to find Patterson too and you're the only lead I've got."

    "Is that why Gloria introduced us?" I asked him. "Is she in on
this...this...thing? Whatever it is you're doing?"

    "How did you find her?"

    "I asked you first," I smiled and I was touching the man again,
finding the temptation almost irresistible for some reason.

    "Pure luck," Mike said with a shrug, looking down at my hand as I
pressed it against his stomach.

    "I don't believe in luck," I whispered, leaning closer and moving
my hand lower, slipping my fingers inside the waistband of his
trousers. He had a wonderfully hard stomach, the man's physique
belying his age, and I was enjoying my explorations.

    "I do," Mike said and we looked at each other for several long
seconds. "Gloria tosses me work every now and then. She likes to try
and keep me out of trouble."

    "Why?" I slid my hand inside his pants, inside Mike's briefs, and
found his warm cock agreeably hard.

    "Ummm..." Mike smiled, shifting slightly as I wrapped my fingers
around him.

    "Tell me..." I sang with a soft giggle, squeezing his penis somewhat
awkwardly.

    "She was my first partner," Mike said, putting his arm around me
finally and I gave him a happy sigh, settling into the crook of his
left arm. I felt something there, something hard beneath his armpit,
and I knew what it was.

    "Gloria was a cop?"

    "Yeah," Mike nodded, bringing his right hand to my bare thigh.
"She was once. How did you end up in her office?"

    "Robert told me about her," I said. "He knew I wanted out and he
said maybe Gloria could help."

    "Out?"

    "Out of all this. Out of my life," I told him, deciding to remove
Mike's cock from his pants. "Once you're in it...People change, you
know?"

    "Yeah," Mike breathed, watching as I opened his trousers and
pulled his erection free. He was large, much like I remembered, seven
or even eight inches long, and nice and thick. This was the cock I'd
given my virginity to and I stroked it almost lovingly, remembering
how good the man had felt inside me.

    "I just want to start over," I whispered. "I want to be someone
else, Mike."

    "And you have no idea where Patterson went?" he asked me, sliding
his hand up my thigh, across my flat tummy to find my left breast
beneath his palm.

    "No," I sighed, leaning into the man's strong body while I jerked
him off with both hands. "Why are you looking for him?"

    "I was babysitting," Mike told me, staring at my tits while he
squeezed them, slipping his fingers under one of the thin straps and
pushing my dress off my shoulder.

    "What's that mean?" I wondered, rubbing my fingers over the head
of his cock. I felt Mike's precum warm and slippery as I traced it
around the pronounced ridge of his glans, tickling the underside with
a bare touch of my fingernails.

    "I was just watching him." Mike had freed my left breast and now
he was kissing my bare shoulder, holding me tightly with his left arm
behind my back.

    "Watching?" I laughed lightly and turned my head so that I could
kiss his cheek and whisper into his ear. "Why?"

    "His wife's father," Mike explained between kisses as he worked
his way down to my swollen nipple. "He wanted me to keep tabs on the
guy."

    "Ohhhh..." I sighed, biting Mike's earlobe while I pulled on his
cock, feeling the smooth skin sliding over the muscle beneath. "And
now that Robert's gone, he wants you to find him?"

    "Yeah," Mike agreed and then he was drawing my burning nipple into
his mouth, nursing on it greedily.

    "Hmmm...I love the way that feels," I breathed, grasping Mike's
penis at the base and pulling my hand upward slowly. He was hard as
steel by then, enough so that I could feel the man's pulse beneath my
fingers.

    "Let's go someplace else," he whispered, thumbing my right nipple
through the spandex struggling to contain it. Mike was lighting a fire
inside me, much as he had the night we'd made love. It wasn't just
physical either. There was a desire within me that was much deeper
than the wonderful pleasure his attentions promised. 

    "I can't," I said, shivering as he kissed the top of my breast.
"I'm working."

    "Is that what this is?" Mike asked, lifting his head and sitting
up. He was frowning and his eyes had softened. Even in the shadows I
could suddenly see the difference, the humanity revealed when he let
his guard down. I was seeing the man he'd been in that old newspaper
clipping, frozen in time with the woman he'd loved.

    "Mike," I looked at him, neither smiling nor frowning, not even
acting anymore. I just looked at him and tried to decipher what I was
feeling.

    "Come with me," he said and it was an invitation to more than mere
sex. "Please."

    "Why?" I asked him, barely getting the breath out of my lungs.

    "You know why," he told me.

    "Say it," I said, feeling my heart racing then. I was trembling
with adrenaline and my fear was gone, replaced with something else.
Something confusing that I struggled to hide.

    "I..." Mike paused and shook his head and found a different reason.
"This place isn't safe for you anymore."

    "You don't believe me?" I asked him, still holding his erection in
my fist, but neither of us was moving.

    "I do," he said. "But there are other people looking for you,
Cindy. I didn't have a choice..." Mike narrowed his eyes, looking inward
for a second. "I didn't know."

    "Yes, you did," I told him. "You knew. That's why you called me,
isn't it? That's why you warned me last night."

    "They're at your apartment," Mike nodded. "Waiting for you."

    "Who?"

    "I don't know for sure," Mike said, searching my face. "I'm not
the only one looking for Patterson."

    "But you told them where to find me." I frowned.

    "I told Carlisle," Mike looked down. "I was doing my job. What I
was paid to do. If I could change it..."

    "You told them." I shook my head. "Did you give them my picture
too? Did you tell them I have a dick? Did you tell them how you fucked
me, Mike?"

    "Shhh...Stop...No." Mike was shaking his head as well, holding my
shoulders. "I took your picture, yeah, but I kept them. Nobody knows
what you look like, Cindy."

    "Only where I live." I swallowed hard, knowing that much of my
sudden anger was just frustration. Mike had protected me, so much as
he could, I believed that much of what he said.

    "Where you live, yeah," Mike agreed. "But that's all. He doesn't
know about the other night, I promise, and I didn't tell him about
this place. I told Carlisle I had a lead on where you work. That once
I knew for sure, I'd give him a call."

    "And now you've changed your mind?" I asked him. "Or are you
supposed to get me outside? Make it easy for them? What's the plan,
Mike?"

    "To get you someplace safe," he said, looking back up and he was
his old self, his eyes grown cold and distant, but not for me. "I'm
not going to let them hurt you."

    He could have been lying, but I'd seen the look in his eyes. I'd
heard the tender sincerity in his voice and it spoke to me more than
any of Mike's words. He loved me, that was obvious, and I had to trust
the man because I was falling in love with him. That reluctant
admission was warm and welcome, a relief to my heart and the ache
inside. 

    "Evelyn," I breathed, remembering her suddenly as a wave of guilt
filled me. I'd forgotten about her, somehow, and I frowned at the
conflict being with Mike aroused.

    "Can you slip out the back?" Mike hadn't heard me and he was
glancing around the club. "Cindy?"

    "What? Yeah," I nodded, realizing Mike was right. I had to leave.
"I think so, um..."

    "I'll take care of the bill and get the car, okay?" Mike replaced
my hands with his, putting his cock away. "Just go out the back and
wait for me there."

    "Where are we going?" I wondered, but my mind was on Evelyn. I was
wondering how I could have forgotten her so easily.

    "I know a place," Mike said. "Don't worry about it. Fix your dress
now and don't say anything. Don't talk to anyone."

    "Alright." I nodded, pushing my thoughts away with a deep breath.
I couldn't help my feelings. I hadn't asked for any of this and if I
had to make a choice...I chose not to. I'd worry about Evelyn later,
like the coward I was.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    "You're going to be my new problem child, aren't you?" Molly
sighed, looking up from the leather sofa where she was sitting.

    "I just don't feel very good," I told her, feeling like a wayward
child in front of her mother. "I'm sorry."

    "Okay." She gave me a small smile, less sympathetic than amused, I
thought. "Go home and rest your tummy."

    "Thanks, Molly," I said with a grateful smile.

    "But you owe me now, Cindy." Molly pursed her lips, plainly
admiring the way Heather's dress was clinging greedily to every curve
of my body. "I'm going to collect tomorrow."

    "Is that a promise?" I teased her and the woman laughed, waving me
out of Mr. Goldman's office. I think it was more hers anyway.

    I gathered my things from the dressing room, not bothering to
change clothes. Heather would understand, I thought as I pulled on my
leather jacket. I rolled up the jeans and t-shirt I'd worn in along
with my boots, tucking the small bundle under my arm and grabbing my
purse. I'd left everything else at Eric's place, the clothes Evelyn
and I had packed, and our toothbrushes and such. Most of my jewelry
was still there as well, except for the pieces I really didn't want to
lose, like my tennis bracelet. I was wearing that, since the emeralds
matched my dress perfectly, but the rest of my jewelry...I really hoped
I could trust Eric and I thought I could, so long as we weren't in
bed.

    The back door was a fire escape, but it didn't have an alarm or
anything. It could only be opened from the inside anyway and I took a
deep breath, pausing before I left the club. I didn't know for certain
if Mike would be waiting for me alone out there and there would be no
going back if he wasn't. I was trusting him. Again. After knowing that
he'd lied to me, that he'd worked against me, I was still willing to
let him help me. That was how confused my feelings for him were.

    "Do you know what you're doing?" I asked myself softly and then I
pushed open the heavy door and looked around the empty alley.

    I was halfway to the street when Mike's car pulled up, stopping at
the mouth of the alley, he leaned across the passenger seat and opened
the door of his old Plymouth sedan. It was okay. He was a lone and I
hadn't realized my heart had been beating so quickly until I was
sitting in the car with him. 

    "What took you so long?" he wondered. "I had to drive around the
block."

    "I was fixing my hair," I replied with a smile and he grunted at
that, taking a quick look out of the corner of his eye. I caught it
though and I felt warm all over as I tugged at the hem of my short
skirt.

    "We'll go to Brooklyn," Mike explained after a minute or two. "I
got a place there. You'll be okay."

    "For how long?" I wondered.

    "A couple days," Mike shrugged. "Once Patterson turns up,
everything will go back to normal. Nobody's gonna care about you
anymore."

    "Can't you just tell them that I don't know anything?"

    "Yeah," Mike agreed. "I'll tell Carlisle I talked to you, tell him
what you told me."

    "But?"

    "But...I dunno," Mike shrugged. "He's acting a little different."

    "Different?" I looked at him.

    "Desperate," Mike said. "Like I said, I'm not the only one hunting
this guy."

    "Or me." I sighed at that unfortunate truth and looked out the
window.     Traffic out of Manhattan was always bad, but today we
seemed to be crawling. It did give me time to wonder who else would be
looking for Robert. Probably Belinda had hired someone, I thought. Or
maybe her Bad Daddy Clyde just wanted to impress his rich bitch
girlfriend and kick Robert's ass once and for all. Or maybe that
twelve million belonged to someone else, someone pushing Baron's
buttons to get it back. I didn't care for that possibility very much.

    "I didn't forget my promise either." Mike turned to look at me as
we waited for a light to change.

    "What do you mean?" I asked him, looking into his eyes and he
shrugged.

    "I got someone going through records right now," Mike said. "One
of my sister's kids."

    "In West Virginia?"

    "Yeah," Mike smiled at me. "I gave him a map and some money,
turned him loose. He's a smart kid, done some work for me before and I
told him what we want."

    "Thank you," I said, giving him the best smile I could find and I
think it hit him hard.

    "Jesus," Mike breathed slowly and then someone behind us was
honking and Mike looked away. The light had turned green and we were
holding up traffic.

    "I should call Evelyn," I thought aloud, opening my purse.

    "Your girlfriend?" Mike asked and I nodded.

    "She works until six."  

    "No, turn that off," Mike told me, looking at my phone.

    "What? Why?" I asked him. "I have to tell her where to find me."

    "All the way off," he repeated. "Leave it that way. I'll find a
phone booth."

    "What are you talking about?" I almost smiled, but Mike was
looking serious.

    "Phones can be tracked," he told me. "They have a GPS function
built into them."

    "GPS?" I blinked at him and decided he was messing with me. "No
way! It's just a phone. I'll keep the call short, okay?"

    "Cindy," Mike frowned and the next thing I knew he'd grabbed the
phone out of my hands.

    "Mike! Hey!" I stared at the man. 

    "It doesn't matter if you call someone or not," Mike said,
slipping my phone into his jacket. "As soon as you turn it on the
phone sends a signal to the network, like checks in, you know?"

    "Yeah so?" I made a face at him, feeling a little annoyed by his
strange paranoia.

    "So, the network knows where you are," Mike explained. "They said
it was to help find people who called 9-1-1 or whatever."

    "But it's really a government conspiracy, right?" I giggled. "Give
me my phone, Mike. Please?"

    "I don't know about the government," Mike shrugged, ignoring my
outstretched hand. "But anyone with the right connections can get the
information. All they need is your phone number."

    "Even if that was true..." I rolled my eyes. "Baron Carlisle might
be a greedy bastard, but he's not an arch-criminal, okay? He's not
what's his name, Lex Luthor, he's just an asshole."

    "What?" Mike looked at me, narrowing his eyes.

    "What?" I smiled nervously. "You never heard of Lex Luthor?"

    "You know Baron Carlisle?"

    "Oh! Uh..." I licked my lips. "Sorta, yeah...He's Robert's father-in-
law. The guy you work for, right?"

    "Yeah," Mike nodded. "How do you know him?"

    "From..." I was stuck for a second. "The club. I met him at the club
before. He likes to come in sometimes, you know."

    "Right."

    Mike didn't say anything else and I just sat there, thinking that
he didn't believe me. I hadn't really meant to talk about Baron at
all, but the idea that he would somehow track me down through the
secret GPS in Robert's celphone was crazy. My explanation was a good
one though and could have easily been true, except I hadn't been
working there long enough to actually meet the man. But Mike didn't
know that, so maybe...I really hoped he believed me. And anyway, I
thought, what difference could it possibly make how I knew the old
man? Mike was probably unhappy that I was connected with Carlisle at
all. I knew I was.

    "Okay. Call your girlfriend," he said, putting the car in park
outside a convenience store. "Tell her I'll pick her up at work."

    "You're going to pick her up?"

    "Yeah," Mike nodded. "I don't want you going anyplace and once she
gets there..."

    "She can't leave either?" I asked him, thinking Mike was a lot
more paranoid than I gave him credit for.

    "Better safe than sorry," Mike nodded. "And hey...Get me a roll of
Tums while you're in there, huh?"

    "Tums?" I laughed.

    "Yeah, or Rolaids. I don't care," he said, fishing some money out
of his pocket. "You're giving me an ulcer."

    "That's cause I'm so hot!" I stuck out my tongue, snatched the
five from his fingers, and slipped quickly out of the car.

    Mike was a little strange, I'd decided, but I sorta liked the way
he was worrying over me. It felt good, even if it was annoying, rather
like Evelyn's jealousy in a weird way. I knew he was serious about
keeping me safe and he was even willing to get Evelyn for me and keep
her safe too. Some small part of me almost felt disappointed that Mike
wasn't trying to keep me all for himself, but I was relieved as well.
If it did come down to a choice between them, I'd have to stay with
Evelyn. I realized that as soon as I was dialing the pay phone,
feeling the rising excitement of just knowing I'd hear her voice.

    "Fuck! I'm in love," I sighed, reading the number printed on the
receipt for the clothes I'd bought. That was pretty handy and I'd
giggled over it at the time, telling the girl I had her number now.

    "W-What's that?" the clerk asked me with nervous interest, a young
guy with long greasy hair under his greasy ball cap. 

    "I need some Tums," I said, giving him a barely polite smile and
then my back. He was rubbing his dick while he stared at my ass, I was
sure.

    "Thanks," Mike said as I tossed a roll of Tums onto his lap and
then he caught the look on my face. "What's wrong?"

    "Evelyn didn't show up for work," I said, biting my bottom lip as
I sat down in the car. 

    "She didn't call in or anything? What did they say?" Mike asked me
and I shook my head.

    "No. Her boss asked me if I knew where she was."

    "Hmmm..." Mike frowned, looking down as he snapped the roll of
antacids in half. 

    "She wouldn't miss work like that," I told him. "I know because I
asked her to skip out on it this morning, but... 

    "Where else would she go?" 

    "Uh..." I shrugged. "Nowhere. Evelyn had classes this morning and
then she was going straight to the store."

    "How about where you guys stayed last night?"

    "No," I shook my head. "She wouldn't go back there by herself. We
stayed with a friend of mine, the bartender at work. She doesn't even
have a key or anything.

    "Would she go back to her apartment?"

    "No way. I told her last night we had to leave," I said, feeling
my anxiety grow. I felt like I'd lost a child at the mall or
something. 

    "Think about it, Cindy." Mike grabbed my shoulder, giving me a
squeeze through the leather jacket. "Would she go back to her
apartment?"

    "I don't know." I swallowed hard. "Ummm...Her books."

    "Books?"

    "For school." I closed my eyes. "We left them there, so..."

    "She could have gone back for them this morning," Mike said with a
frown. "Okay."

    "But I told her not to," I said weakly. 

    "Hang on for a second," Mike said. "I'll be right back."

    "Where are you going?" I asked, but he didn't say anything else.
He just got out of the car and went into the convenience store.

    It was a long wait for Mike to return, too long, and I was about
to get out of the car when he reappeared. He ignored my questions,
starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot fast, like
something was wrong. 

    "What is it Mike?" I looked at him, but the man's face was
impassive, his jaw fixed and his black eyes staring straight ahead as
he weaved through the dense traffic.

    He turned this way and that, avoiding as much congestion as he
could and even running a couple lights. We weren't exactly roaring
down the road, but even thirty or forty miles an hour is a good clip
through midday traffic. Mike sped up even more as we crossed the East
River into Queens. I knew then where we were going, but I still kept
hoping I was wrong. I hoped it was Mike just being paranoid again.
Evelyn hadn't gone back to the apartment, she couldn't have, not after
I'd warned that it was dangerous. After I'd told her everything.

    Had she believed me though? That was the question in my head and
the one I refused to answer honestly, even to myself.

    "No," I said as Mike turned the last corner and I saw three police
cars and an ambulance blocking the street. 

    There was a small crowd being held back by some cops in uniform
and a guy in a suit was talking to the owner of the pawnshop. He was
Evelyn's landlord and he shouldn't have been standing outside
answering questions. I felt panic rising like bile in my throat and I
was shaking my head. The scene became blurred with tears and all I
could look at was that ambulance just sitting there. It wasn't doing
anything. What did that mean? I had to fight to breath and I was
reaching for the door handle, pulling on it before Mike had even
stopped the car.

    "Stay here," he said, stretching his arm across me and yanking my
door shut again. 

    "No!" I gasped, grabbing at the handle again, but Mike used his
arm to push me back hard into the seat, pinning me there.

    "Don't get out of the car," he told me. "The cops get hold of you
and we'll be answering questions for a week."

    "What happened?" I blinked at him, barely able to get the words
out and I had to wipe my eyes just to see him.

    "I'm going to find out," Mike told me. "Just wait for me, Cindy.
Don't get out of the car."

    I watched Mike walk towards one of the cops holding the onlookers
back, talking to him for a minute and pointing at one of the men in
suits. There were two of them now, the second one coming out of the
dark stairway that led to Evelyn's apartment. I tried to remember what
Mike had told me, but all I could think of was Evelyn. I had to know
she was okay. Whatever had happened here, it wasn't her. She was
someplace else. At the library studying, or maybe she'd gone to
Manhattan to find me at the club. Maybe she'd just missed me. Evelyn
might be trying to call me right now and I opened my purse before I
remembered that Mike had taken my phone.

    He was talking to one of the plainclothesmen now, inside the
cordoned off area, and I couldn't sit there any longer. I wiped my
eyes again, taking a sharp breath through my snotty nose, and opened
the door. I had to know what was going on. My stomach hurt. There was
a hole inside me, a sharp ache like a knife in my guts. I couldn't
breathe and I walked quickly in my heels, almost running, almost
stumbling before one of the cops caught me by the arms, holding me
back.

    "You can't go in there," he said and I stared at him like he was
crazy, not understanding what he meant at first.

    "I'm with him..." I breathed, pointing at Mike with a trembling
finger.

    "You can't go in," the officer repeated.

    "Mike!" I yelled, or sobbed more like as I felt ready to collapse.
There was a stretcher coming out of the stairwell now, bumping
clumsily against the wall as two attendants carried it. Someone was on
it, but I couldn't see who. The body was covered up and I did fall
then, but I don't remember hitting the ground.

    "Don't move too much," Mike's soft voice seemed to wake me and he
was touching my face. "You're okay."

    "What?" I jerked up quickly, too quickly, and my vision darkened
with a dizzying rush of blood.

    "Lie down," Mike sighed, pushing me back gently and I realized I
was in the back seat of his car, lying lengthwise on it wit the
passenger doors open.

    "Where's Evelyn?" I asked him, begging the man to save her for me.
I was crying again, like I'd never stopped, and my lips trembled.
"Where is she, Mike?"

    "I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking my face and his eyes were
blue. Soft and caring and blue like the sky after the sun is gone.

    "Nooo no no no..." I sobbed, wrapping my arms around my stomach and
shutting my eyes and I was dying inside. 

    "Shhhh..." Mike was leaning over me, hugging me as I wept. I hit him
with my fists, beating his arms and shoulders and then I just held
him. My body was wracked with grief. My heart was being torn apart and
I jerked and shivered in Mike's strong arms, clinging to the man and
voicing my pain with a dull wail of despair.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    "Tell me," I said.

    "Cindy..." Mike frowned at me, but I wasn't going to be put off.

    We were in Brooklyn, not at the office I knew he had there, but in
a small basement apartment beneath an Italian bakery. The heady smell
of baking bread permeated everything, but I was getting used to it. I
was sitting on the only bed in the only bedroom, and Mike was sitting
on a chair nearby. It was dark down there and an imitation Tiffany
lamp burned on the nightstand beside me. 

    "I have to know," I said and I wasn't done crying, not yet, but
I'd stopped for the moment at least.

    "She didn't...suffer," Mike said reluctantly, turning his eyes away
from my stare. "The apartment was tossed. Searched. And probably she
walked in while they were doing it."

    "This morning?" I asked, fighting to control my voice. I was still
wearing Heather's dress, the spandex stretched tight as I hugged my
knees to my breasts, rocking slightly as I sat there.

    "That's what they think," Mike nodded. "Nobody noticed anything
until some insurance guy found her door open."

    "Insurance guy?" I blinked at him.

    "Salesman," Mike nodded. "He was working the neighborhood and..."

    "Did they..." I swallowed hard and started crying again. "Did they
hurt her, Mike?"

    "No," he said quickly, his voice momentarily strong before taking
a deep breath. "It was quick. What happened. She..." he was shaking his
head. "It was over quick, Cindy."

    "Hold me," I whispered weakly, letting go of my legs so I could
hug Mike as he joined me on the bed. "I'm so tired. It hurts so much."

    "Come here," he said, pulling me so that I was lying down, on my
side facing him.

    "I miss her," I cried into his chest. "I love her."

    "I know," Mike sighed, trying to comfort me.

    "It's your fault," I told him.

    "Yeah," Mike kissed my hair. "I know that too."

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    I woke up to what little sunlight the small windows high on the
walls could provide. They were made of rippled glass and wires, long
and narrow and overlooking nothing but the sidewalk outside as I stood
on a chair and looked. Mike was gone, but I didn't know where. I was
tempted to leave, but I had nowhere to go and I decided to cry
instead.

    Evelyn was dead and I'd killed her. I'd taken the money and that
was why it had happened. Mike had told Baron Carlisle where I was
staying, but it was clear to me that Mike hadn't planned on anyone
getting hurt. He'd been looking for Robert and that had led to me.
He'd done his job and whether he knew or only suspected that Baron
intended to hurt me, Mike had warned me. He'd tried to stop it from
happening. I owed him my life for that. Maybe. But I would have traded
it for Evelyn's in an instant.

    All I'd wanted was to get away. I'd been willing to forget Belinda
and her father, to take my little revenge and disappear. Robert was
gone and with him much of the anger and resentment over his poor
treatment. I'd taken Belinda's jewelry out of spite, that was true,
but the money? Cindy deserved a head start and I knew it was all dirty
anyway. I'd been risking my neck for that money and taking it wasn't
just revenge, it was compensation for being used and corrupted. And I
would have given every penny to have Evelyn back in my arms.

    I felt confused and guilty, hugging my pillow and wondering if I
was crying for Evelyn or for myself. I had dark thoughts. Suicide
seemed like a good idea. For a minute or an hour, I couldn't say, but
the thought was in my head and I tried to imagine how good it would
feel not to hurt inside ever again. 

    I tried to imagine what Evelyn would want. I closed my wet eyes
and held my breath, trying to hear her voice. I was asking her,
begging the girl to tell me what to do. Who should I hurt for this
crime? Myself or Mike or Baron? All of us? None of us? Would she want
me to let it go? I thought she would, a part of me, because Evelyn
wasn't a bad person. She was so beautiful and full of life and she
could never, ever imagine the things that were filling my head.

    The bathroom was clean enough and it had a real tub. I filled it
with hot water, undressing slowly. There was a bar of soap and that
was all, no shampoo or toothpaste, nothing like that. A bar of ivory
soap on the sink. There was a radio as well, an old one made of wood
with rough fabric over the speaker and a big thumbwheel to change
stations. It was mounted on the wall, which seemed strange, but I
welcomed the distraction it offered. I turned it on, finding it
already tuned to a station, National Public Radio of all things, but
the talk was so meaningless I decided it was perfect. Two men talking
about something and I didn't care what.

    I slipped into the steaming tub and watched my body change,
becoming distorted and grotesque as the light was refracted by the
water. My beautiful body. My perfect body. How often had I heard those
words? Evelyn had told me a hundred times how amazing I was and that
was why she was dead. It was Paul's fault too, I decided, in addition
to everyone else's. He'd changed me overnight into the woman of
Evelyn's dreams. We never would have met if it hadn't been for my
fairy godmother and his precious, unasked for gift.

    "Come on out," I said. "I know you're there, Paul. Talk to me."

    But of course he wasn't. I was alone and looking for a direction.

    "Well, the age old question is, 'Why do bad things happen to good
people?' but that isn't what we should be asking."

    I looked towards the open doorway and a woman was speaking,
confusing me until I realized it was only the radio.

    "What we need to be asking is, 'Bad things happen to good people,
and what are we going to do about it?'"

    I nodded at that and closed my eyes, sinking up to my chin in the
bathwater. What am I going to do about it? The why didn't matter. Even
the how was insignificant. The past was behind me and the future
waited. All I had was the right here and now. A bad thing had happened
to Evelyn and what was I going to do about it?

    "Cindy? Hey...Oh..." Mike was standing in the bathroom doorway and I
hadn't heard him come in. I'd fallen asleep, or at least drifted off
while I soaked, and the water was cool now, barely lukewarm.

    "Hey," I said, blinking as I drew a tired breath.

    "Hi." He almost smiled and I realized he was looking at me, the
clear water hiding nothing. I hadn't washed myself at all either and
it was too late now.

    "Hand me that towel?" I asked him, pointing at the only one I'd
found and now sitting on the closed lid of the toilet.

    "Sure," he said. "I brought some lunch, uh...I was thinking you
could make a list of what you need and I'd..."

    "I need a gun," I told him, standing up slowly and Mike had been
looking at my flaccid penis and small pink balls. Now he was staring
at my face.

    "What?"

    "I'm going to kill Baron Carlisle," I said with a shrug, taking
the towel from Mike's fingers. "So I want a gun."

    "No." Mike frowned and shook his head.

    "Yes," I corrected him. "I'm going to get dressed and go to the
bank, walk into his office and shoot him."

    "You're just upset," Mike said, taking the towel back and drying
me off.

    "That's an understatement," I snorted sarcastically as Mike's
gentle hands rubbed me all over with the thin terrycloth. He even
dried me between the legs, cupping my cock and balls through the towel
and giving them a small squeeze. I barely noticed.

    "I'm looking into it, okay? Mike said. "The homicide detective
running the case is a friend of mine. Let me work this."

    "Work what?" I asked him. "You know who did it. Did you ask
Carlisle about it?"

    "I haven't talked to him yet."

    "And we both know he'll never go to jail for it," I continued
coldly. "So...What do I have to do to get a gun, Mike? Fuck you? Suck
your cock? What?"

    "Cindy," Mike frowned. "I'm your friend, okay? Probably the only
one you have right now, so trust me. You can't kill Baron Carlisle."

    "Why?" I stared at him and I was dead inside. I'd woken up knowing
what I had to do and I couldn't feel anything in my heart. I'd kill
the man and whatever happened after that? I didn't care.

    "Because I love you," Mike said.

    "I hate you," I whispered, ignoring his hands as they went to my
hips.

    "That night I sat outside your apartment," Mike said slowly. "It
wasn't because I was worried about you. It was because I wanted you."

    "I don't care," I said.

    "I haven't loved a woman since..." he took a deep breath. "For a
long time. I almost didn't know what it was."

    I just looked at him, but I was remembering what I'd read about
Mike. About his wife and child dying on that horrible day in
September. Mike had been there. He'd seen it happen and hadn't been
able to save them. But he'd saved other people, hadn't he? He'd
rescued strangers while he searched for his own lost family. Mike had
been a hero once and now he was trying to be one again.

    "You can't save me," I told him.

    "I know," he said, stepping close enough that my breasts were
against his chest, my thighs and stomach touching the man through his
clothing. "I'm trying to help you save yourself, Cindy. I've been down
that road. I was on it for seven years and I know where it ends."

    "Yeah?" I swallowed hard, looking up, into his face. "And who
saved you, Mike? Why are you still here?"

    "I'm not saved," he said softly. "Not yet. But at least now I have
a reason to try."

    He kissed me lightly on the lips, as if testing me perhaps, and I
didn't move. I didn't push him away. I didn't kiss him back. I kept my
eyes open and stood there, letting him do it.

    "I'm sorry," Mike frowned, licking his lips and slowly letting me
go.

    "I love Evelyn."

    "Yeah," he nodded and started turning away, but I grabbed his arm.

    "Will you help me?" I asked him.

    "I won't give you a gun, Cindy."

    "Alright."

    "Alright?" Mike stared at me. "What does that mean?"

    "I'll wait," I told him. "You find out what happened and why. Find
out who killed Evelyn, okay?"

    "And then?"

    "And then we'll decide what to do about it." 

    "We'll decide," Mike said carefully. "Both of us. Together."

    "I'm with you now, right?" I asked him.

    "Are you?"

    "Yeah," I decided, trying not to cry again. "I am, but..."

    "What?"

    "I need some time, Mike," I told him seriously and then softened,
imploring the man with my eyes. "Okay?"

    "I understand," he said without smiling. "I can wait for you."

    "Thank you," I whispered, hugging him tightly and I needed that,
much more than anything else just then.

    "Come on," Mike said. "Let's get you dressed. After you eat
something, you can make me that list."

    Somewhere in the middle of all that talk, even before Mike kissed
me, I'd found something in myself worth saving. At least, that's what
I like to believe. Maybe it was because I knew Mike had suffered as
much as me, perhaps even more, and the only one he'd had to blame was
God for letting bad things happen. If a man like that was willing to
put so many years of lonely pain behind him, to admit that nothing
good had come from it, just to be with me...

    And that kiss. I'd wanted to respond. I yearned for it, to give
myself back to him. Not entirely and not all at once, but just a
little of my heart to give the man some proof of life. But I'd been
too weak. I'd been too afraid and of course, there was Evelyn. She'd
been dead less than a day and I was already giving myself to someone
else? I was awash with guilt for needing Mike the way I did. For
wanting him to comfort me and thinking I could accept his love. It was
selfish, all of that, and selfish to hate myself for it after. That
was the paradox I was left with and it would be a long while before I
could reconcile my life with Evelyn's death.

    Forgiveness, it seemed to me, was a sin.





End of chapter 07
End of Cinderella Book One
TS.Severe@yahoo.com

Visit my blog at: http://severeutopia.blogspot.com/
Visit my website at: http://www1.asstr.org/~rache/index.htm

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <story-submit@asstr.org>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-admin@asstr.org> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+