Chapter 33:I guess you’d better come in.

“Well, I say he got what he deserved,” Michael’s mother remarked apropos of nothing at breakfast the following morning.

“Pardon, Mom?” Michael glanced up from his own section of the paper, the funnies. Ever since he had used his power on his mother, Michael had been feeling guilty about it. He had taken to eating breakfast with her at the very least, even though they hardly ever really said anything to each other anyway. At first she had been a little surprised at his sudden desire to be with her, but was actually starting to like having her son available to throw comments at now and again.

“Oh, there was a rapist caught, um, last week I think. He admitted to multiple rapes, claimed he was a reformed character, even gave away the bar he owned to one of his victims.”

“That sounds great, Mom.”

“He was found dead in his cell yesterday morning. It says here he died in his sleep of a heart attack.”

Michael swallowed. The Stalker, Mickey, was dead and it sounded a lot like he had died in a dream. “Yeah,” he said, “sounds like he got what he deserved. Look, Mom, I gotta go out.” He struggled out of his seat and rushed for the door, grabbing a jacket as he went.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t break the door down.” The voice was muffled by the thick door of the bar. Michael had been hammering on it for five minutes. The door opened, stopped after an inch or two by a thick metal bar. An eye looked out at him. “What do you want?”

“Kelly? Is that you?” The space behind the door was in too much shadow for Michael to see who was standing there, but the voice sounded right.

“Yeah, I’m Kelly, who are… Oh shit, you!”

Michael nodded. “Me. I need to talk to you.”

“I guess you’d better come in.” The door closed, and then opened fully, allowing Michael to step inside. Kelly closed and locked the door behind him and he turned to look at her. She was just as sexy in real life as she had been in her dream, only now she was a confident woman, the owner of a bar, rather than the frightened creature he had rescued. She was dressed in a black silk wrap, tied loosely at the waist. It had shifted slightly since she had put it on revealing a long ‘V’ of black skin down between her breasts to her waist. Michael’s cock twitched in his jeans.

“Have you seen the paper this morning?” he asked.

“Do I look like I’ve seen the paper? C’mon upstairs and I’ll make some coffee.” He followed her swaying behind through a door at the back of the bar and up a slim flight of stairs to the apartment above the bar. He could smell new paint, she had redecorated the apartment as soon as she moved in, he guessed. Kelly went through into a small kitchen area and there was soon the sound of a filter coffee machine doing its work. She returned. “So, what’s so important in the paper that you’re knocking on my door at this hour?”

“It’s nearly ten o’clock,” Michael reminded her.

“And I get to bed at about three in the morning,” she told him.

“Oh, I… hadn’t thought. It’s Mickey…”

“He’s escaped?!” Her eyes flew open and her arms crossed over her chest.

“No, no,” Michael reassured her. “He’s dead. He died in his sleep.” She blinked a couple of times as though she was not sure she could believe him. “Look, um, have you seen any strange people around the bar recently?”

“You are kidding me. This is a tittie bar, well, kind of. We get weird guys in here all the time. Look, you didn’t… y’know?”

“I didn’t kill him, not even in his dreams. I was actually going to reattach, um, what I cut off, after the trial.”

“Hmm,” she said, and returned to the kitchen. A couple of minutes later she came back with two mugs of steaming, black coffee. “Hope you don’t want anything in this,” she said. He shook his head, taking the mug from her, and watched as she took a large gulp from her own drink. “Ah, that hits the spot. I only drink this stuff in the morning, but I really need it in the morning.” She slumped onto the couch and Michael got a flash of the space between her legs as she did so. His cock got more interested. “Well,” she said, “I can’t say I’m sorry he’s gone.”

Michael nodded. “I guess I can understand your point.” He sat down on a chair opposite her, not trusting himself on the same couch. “Thing is, I got told about some people who could be looking for me. I was wondering if they’d gotten to him and traced their way back here.”

Kelly bent forward, elbows on knees. Her wrap fell open allowing Michael to see her beautiful big breasts beneath it. “I’ve seen no real strangers here in the last week. If you leave me a number I can let you know if anyone does come asking.”

Michael swallowed hard, pulled his eyes away from her chest. “D’you have something I can write on?” She stood, wandered over to the telephone, and returned with an address book. Under the ‘M’ section Michael wrote down his number with ‘Michael’ written beside it. He showed her the entry. “Okay?” he asked. She was standing over him, looking down. He had to look up past the slopes of her breasts to see her face.

“That’s fine, Michael. I, um, never really thanked you for what you did for me.”