Wow, thanks so much for the awesome reviews! I was thrilled to even get to a hundred, but thanks to you guys (and a special shout out to my wonderful 'guest' who has posted lovely reviews for the past few chapters as she catches up!...glad you're enjoying the roller coaster) I've passed that mark with room to spare.
Sadly, this is likely to be the very last chapter of Corporate Sellout. As I set out on this almost 100k word journey, I really didn't imagine it had the legs for a six figure word count, but now...look where we are?
I'll try and make this one worth while, as it ends the plot as I sketched it out months ago. Never say never as far as other tales are concerned. Any ideas you guys have about what I could write about next? Naomily obviously, although I might try my hand at another combination of Skins people if asked.
Thank you again from the bottom of my heart for the support, encouragement and praise. I loved writing about Emily and Naomi. I'm glad you liked reading about my interpretation of the most beautiful love affair in TV history. Lets just forget about Kat's heterosexual roles post Skins, huh?
We join them again a few days after the 'boardroom incident' nudge, nudge...
Naomi
Life is good.
No, strike that...life is brilliant.
I was a bit concerned, going back to work on the Monday after the JI Ball, that I would get fired immediately. I knew the security department kept digital recordings of the CCTV in the building. And it wasn't that horrible grainy black and white stuff you see on police TV shows. Nope, nothing but the best for Jupiter Investments. I'd been shown the security office in my first week here. Three uniformed guys with a bank of 12 40" high definition colour screens on the wall in front of their desks.
OK, the CCTV office itself would have been unoccupied the night of the party. Even those guys got the night off when Richard Hurst was throwing a lavish bash. Instead, there would have just been physical perimeter security provided by an outside agency. Those 2 metre wide goons patrolling the building in monkey suits would have been locked out of the monitor room. But lets face it, it was an office party night? Booze, drugs (the 20 something gel haired suit in bought ledger was apparently still the go to guy for recreational pharmaceuticals) and lots of pissed up people in their teens and 20's, letting their hair down...and other items of clothing.
Men are men and women are women, and its obvious the regular security boys would scour the footage next day for any late night indiscretions. Not everyone would be as careful as Emily and me. The boardroom was the only room in this building apart from Hurst's office (I think) that's unobserved. I suppose if you're pissed and desperate enough for a vertical shag, any old cupboard would do, but if my memory serves, the copy room is a favourite destination for priapic salesmen and willing young women. I've heard all the gossip...working with Rebecca certainly gave me an insight into the somewhat fluid 'relationships' within the building. Tony Stonems reputation was hard earned and I'm guessing quite a few female junior reps and accounts clones would have succumbed to his oily charms over the past three years. Plus his position as department head would have loosened a few morals...Alcohol plus status, always a winner.
And that's not counting the odious Hurst, who allegedly lets his hair down properly when the annual party comes along. Emily (who at the moment is humming tunefully in the kitchen, preparing a delicious Waldorf salad for us to help recover our strength with) might have thought she was being very discreet with her one sided 'affair', but the cameras never lie. Luckily for her, the footage is overlaid weekly. If there had been anything incriminating on the security files, I'm sure Hurst would have tormented us with it by now.
But other members of staff have been less...careful...specially with the aid of a line of Peruvian marching powder. Rebecca made my stomach turn with a salacious story about a (now departed) voluptuous Asian girl from dispatch who'd reportedly knelt in front of three guys from goods in one night and ….serviced...them one by one, for a wager and a bottle of pricey champagne. That footage, (from the now nightly locked personnel office), was probably copied and shared on a hundred JI Blackberries for months... nightmare or what? No wonder she left abruptly.
No...Emily and I had been pretty careful in comparison. The board room was definitely not monitored. Too many shady financial deals and back hand conversations went on in there for it to be chanced. So we'd enjoyed our little defiant shag without the risk of being the stars of the week after porno show.
But obviously, entering and leaving the room would still be on tape...along with Emily's sly wink and middle finger to the corridor camera as we passed under it. You wouldn't need to be a genius (which is quite fortunate for the low IQ staff in security) to work out we hadn't been having a discussion about the exchange effect of Brexit on JI's foreign reserves...
I sort of knew that Hurst and Stonem his obsequious sidekick, would be keen to view any and all footage from Saturday night. They wouldn't be content to let the uniforms use whatever was on it for wanking material exclusively. Specially if we were in it. Rubbing that superior cunts nose in our fledgling relationship was briefly satisfying, but in retrospect, a bit risky.
So when I got nothing in the way of snide remarks or knowing looks from anyone on Monday, I thought we'd got away with it. Maybe the security office hadn't deemed a couple of women giggling their way up and down the empty 5th floor corridor interesting enough to keep. I knew that at least one of the telesales girls, Annette had gone sick on Monday...Rebecca of course eager to explain that she had been a little over friendly across the franking machine in the post room with one of Bob's younger sales guys. I bet she still has bruises on that cute arse. But nowadays, that was pretty tame stuff. Embarrassing for her briefly, but as long as her fiancée didn't hear about it, (unlikely as he works for a rival firm in Bath), it would soon be consigned to history.
Hurst and Stonem came into accounts on the Tuesday morning, but didn't even spare me a glance. No angry looks or narrowed eyes. Me and Ems might have rubbed the chief exec's nose in it a bit, being so obviously 'together' at the party, but he seemed to be taking it on the chin. Stonem gave me a lot of extra work on the Wednesday, which may have been a bit of subtler punishment, but by the end of that week, things had settled back into boring routine. Emily was hard at work for Amex. Late nights and early starts. But I trust her. Trust her completely. She phones me whenever she's going to be late, texts me constantly and gives me no reason to wonder. I've now met the blessed Sarah too...just the once, lunchtime yesterday. An awkward chance meeting in the lobby of the Amex building as I was waiting for Emily, the old and the new colliding as it were, but she was with her stunning older girlfriend Georgina and it went off OK. We didn't exactly agree to be bffs, but it was obvious she's besotted with her own partner and when Emily walked up to us with a worried look on her face, maybe thinking I might still be anxious, I put her mind at rest with a winning smile and a tight hug.
No...all in all, things are going well. Me and Emily are fine...I still have a job and now Emily will be bringing in a few thousand a month extra. That foreign escape is getting closer.
Oh...and we've moved in together.
Yeah...cliché or what?
Katie came round the day we moved our stuff in together...it was just over a fortnight after our little boardroom tete a tete. Emily had been staying at mine every night since we got back together, but it made no sense long term. Her place is bigger, plusher and in a nicer area. I swallowed my pride and agreed it made sense for me to give up my lease and be the one to move home. The passionate sex I received the night I said yes proved I had made my sweet Emily a very happy girl. I think she just wanted the final seal on our rebuilt relationship. Katie of course, just thought it was hilarious.
"Fucking dykes...do you bitches work to a common script or something? Its like a fucking episode of Lip Service...meet up, break up, make up, move in, buy a cat and some Ella Fitzgerald CD's?" she sneered without real malice.
I don't know who laughed the loudest at that. I don't know if it was the mock angry look on her face or the fact that she was actually admitting having watched a contemporary lesbian TV drama that set us off. Emily and I literally howled with laughter as Katie stood in 'our' lounge hands on hips, scowling dramatically at us. Her eyes however sparkled with humour too. Miss Fitch the elder wasn't actually mad at us. She even helped moved a few boxes around, pausing only to inspect a possible nail emergency three or four times a minute...
Anyway, like I said...life is sweet at the moment. I seem to have dodged a dismissal bomb at work, temporarily at least. Emily is happy working at Amex and her first salary credit was a massive boost to our joint household income. If this keeps up, we'll be able to eye up Greek hide ways in 12 months instead of the two years I'd planned for.
Our daily needs are simple. Work, food, some wine and lots of sex. We don't even go out that much at the moment. Another reason for Katie to mock us. We're obviously reinforcing all her lame lesbian clichés one by one. Moving in together was just the first of many. No cat yet... with an extended foreign trip planned soon, that's not really a good idea for a stray moggy. But its a lonely example!
Take the other night.
Katie had 'happened' to be passing just as Ems and I were settling down for a night in front of the TV. I've got my little brunette to agree to watch 'The Walking Dead' with me, which mainly involves me watching and her snuggled up against me, head turned into my shoulder as the gruesome heads roll, but what the hell, contact with Emily's body is always welcome... Anyway, Katie breezes in using her key (!) just as Rick Grimes is skewering another soon to be ex walkers head and I am using Emilys squeal of disgust at the spouting gore to cop a crafty feel of her right breast. That got me another muted squeal, but one of delight this time. By the time we realised Katie was in the room. I had one hand right inside Emily's top and she'd made a determined move up my skirt. My legs fell open automatically...Emily on a mission towards my fanny is irresistible. Our eager first kiss was however, rudely interrupted.
"Fuck" My eyes...my eyes!" Katie screeched alarmingly. Like she'd been blinded or something. She stood there after the echoes died, looking up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers to her unwanted snapshot of us going to it.
"Oh...hi Katie" I said, grinning sweetly and refusing point blank to release the pert, warm globe I was holding so possessively. (Emily has taken to wearing nothing under her tee shirts around the apartment). A habit I totally agree with.
Emily smirked too and only half drew her hand out from under my skirt. Sadly I did have underwear on...but she wouldn't have let that stop her exploration if we hadn't been interrupted.
"Hi Kay" she smiled. "Now you know why I told you to always knock?"
Katie scowled at us.
"I'm giving the fucking key back bitches...Christ Emily...don't you ever have, like a normal evening in front of the box? Watching scary zombies eat people while sofa shagging is your choice of nightly entertainment now is it?"
I laughed out loud at that. The TV doesn't have the test card any more these days, but it really didn't make any difference what programme was on, or even if it was on at all...Me, Emily and the couch always spelt sex at some point.
"Come on Katiekins" I teased "Surely that box set of Lip Service taught you a few things? Your sister is irresistible...clothed or naked. Whatever's on the box...enjoying Emily is always on my evening entertainment menu?"
Katie groaned theatrically and threw her hands up in surrender.
"Fucks sake...you muff munchers never stop, do you? Look...I only dropped in to ask if you both wanted to come to this great party I've been invited to on Saturday? I really, really want to go, but I'm between boyfriends...temporarily...and no way am I showing up on my own. So, like...if you could just arrive with me...and keep your hands off each other for long enough for me to meet a few new people and pretend I don't know you...everyone's a winner? Its free booze and posh food...and they've booked a pro DJ. One of those big houses in town with, like 20 bedrooms?"
Katie stopped for breath, which gave me the opportunity to at last release Emilys breast. I was reluctant, but even I draw the line at actually groping my girlfriend in front of her twin sister...well, after I've tormented Katie for a bit anyway.
"Party?" Emily sighed "Kay...I know the sort of parties you enjoy. Loads of football wankers with Jags and Bentleys eye fucking every female that walks in...and Wags who drop their knickers at the first sign of a platinum card. Tempting...but no thanks? We were planning on a nice meal at Giovanni's, a bottle of red and a lot of hot sex to end a perfect evening?"
Katie winced again at the over description of a typical Campbell-Fitch weekend evening, but I had to stifle another giggle. That was the first I'd heard about what Emily had in mind for Saturday, but it sounded good to me, especially the last bit.
I yawned theatrically as Katie glared at us. Baiting her is such fun.
"Sounds wonderful..." I said to Emily, hugging her to me and winking at Katie "...maybe we can try out that new battery powered thing...you know the big one we got from Anne Summers on..."
"Enough!" Katie almost yelled, face pale. "Jesus...its worse than having a conversation with James. At least he actually IS a hormonal teenager...what's your excuse, lezzers?"
Emily chuckled beside me, then sighed in resignation. Although her idea of Saturday night bliss was way better, I knew she'd give in eventually. We owed Katie something for being there for us...specially as she was really the reason we're together again. She'd been spot on when she said left to our own devices, we'd probably still be suffering dramatically alone, neither one of us prepared to make the first move, even though we were dying inside.
I echoed her sigh and spoke for both of us.
"OK, OK...I get it Katiekins. We'll come...on two conditions though?"
Katie folded her arms and waited for the punchline.
"One" I ticked my first finger "You do NOT introduce us as 'my lezzers' to all and sundry...for which we promise in return not to show you up by getting pissed and fucking naked on the stairs at midnight?"
Emily drew a quick inward breath at that. Whether it was at me being so crude or that she was actually imagining us fucking on the stairs in front of an audience of dozens I don't know...lets just say Miss Fitch is turning out to have an imagination about new experiences I would never have credited her with. I love it.
"And two..." I ticked my middle finger "...we get to leave as soon as you snare your gullible victim for the evening? You might find the idea of me shagging your sister horrible, but believe me, watching you snog the face off some minted hooray while he paws your tits isn't something I have on my to do list either?"
Emily giggled again. I think, although she might have been a bit more diplomatic in her words, I was expressing her feelings perfectly. She'd told me about a few lurid episodes from their teenage years. No twin sister should have to see or hear her sibling getting it from a random. She nodded her head to show Katie she was on board with my comments.
To be fair, Katie didn't kick back. I think she knew it was the best deal on offer.
"Right...my work here is done then. Conditions accepted. One of my own though?" she smirked evilly "Dress like you actually have a sense of fashion Naomi babe...I can rely on Emily to keep up the Fitch standard...I bought most of her wardrobe after all...but if you turn up looking like a butch dyke in overalls, all bets are off?"
I opened my mouth to argue, but Emily dug her fingernails into my bare thigh. So I winced instead, letting Katie have her moment of victory. She grinned at my discomfort and started to work Emily's apartment key off her sparkly key ring. I guess the little show she had witnessed was reason enough to go through with giving it back.
Emily squeezed again, this time without nails and I smiled in relief.
"Fair enough Kay...we'll dress to impress. I'll even make Naomi leave our strap on at home. It shows through her leggings anyway?"
Katies unchecked gasp of horror was hilarious. She flung the shiny key our way and made for the door.
"Disgusting...fucking disgusting" she threw over her shoulder as the door slammed behind her.
Emily sniggered into my shoulder and reached for the remote, pausing another gory walker demise.
"Now..." she whispered, running her hand back up my bare thigh, making me shiver in anticipation "...how about we get some use out of that strap on...seeing as how its off limits on Saturday?
"Oh Christ..." I moaned as her fingernails teased the front of my suddenly too tight underwear "...such a dirty girl, Emily Fitch"
She pulled me to my feet and kissed me hard.
"Only for you babe" she smiled as our lips parted "...now...I think its my turn to be on the bottom?"
My legs actually wobbled as she walked in front of me to the bedroom, dropping her tee to the floor along with her white cotton thong. Fucking hell, I thought feverishly...I'm finally going to get to screw my little brunette with that big knobbly thing...life really doesn't get any better, does it?
XXX
Saturday night.
Emily
Leaving the flat at 8, dressed to kill, we made our way down to the waiting taxi. With Katies 'reputation' at stake, we'd pulled out all the stops out. Naomi was wearing a see through lacy white top over a black bustier which made her gorgeous tits push up a treat. Her tight black leggings might be missing that infamous fake dick I teased Katie about, but there was definitely no room for it anyway. They hugged her in all the right places. I might have...no fuck it I did...spend several minutes admiring, then touching the Campbell merchandise. She looked good enough to eat, specially with those long black boots and her hair in soft blonde waves over her shoulders.
Mine, I kept repeating to myself as she came into the lounge after changing. Mine.
She seemed equally happy with my mint green skater tee dress and bare legs. Nothing obviously on show but not wearing a bra obviously met with Naomi's approval. Lucky for me I'm small on top, so I can still get away with it. My squeezing of her pert behind was repaid with a couple of sly gropes of my tits as we sank two large vodka and cokes just to get us started. I let her have her gropes...this was a mission to support Katie, but there was nothing in the rules about not having some fun of our own, was there?
Just as we left the building, walking towards the taxi, I remembered about the A5 brown padded envelope that had been delivered by courier while she was in the shower. I almost stopped and went back for it. I didn't think we were expecting anything...but now...in the cold light of a Bristol morning, I'm kinda glad I didn't anyway.
It was a great night, despite the guest list at the party being just as I'd envisioned it. What turned a boring night into a good one was the fact that two friends from college were there too. The first one we bumped into almost as soon as we arrived. One Freddie McClair. He was in my year at Roundview, but Naomi sort of knew him too, through his sister Karen. We spent the first hour chatting to him and getting steadily pissed.
Then the front door opened, just as Naomi and I were looking for a loo or spare bedroom. Neither of us wanted to pee that much, but you know...christening every surface and all that?
In walked someone I hadn't seen since she got expelled for breaking just about every rule in the college no no book.
Effy fucking Stonem, no less. A bit less Goth, but still turning every head, male and female in the place.
Naomi knew her too, if less well than she did Freddie. Turned out Effy and Freddie had been teenage lovers back in college and the whole night turned into a challenge to see who could tell the most outrageous stories whilst sinking the most free shots. I've not been to a party since I was 17 that I enjoyed more. By 2 am, we were sitting on the floor in a circle in one of the dozens of huge bedrooms, swapping stories and drinking straight from the bottle of Grey Goose vodka someone had liberated from the groaning drinks table downstairs. In other rooms, people were variously shagging, sniffing from lines of the purest coke or passing out after random shags. A perfect party.
We staggered home at 4 am...leaving Katie with a choice of three hopeful lower league footballers pleading her with hopeful stares. I don't think she still goes in for sharing the love quite so much, but with Katie...who knows?
There was no shagging for Misses Fitch and Campbell when we got in. Both of us were wasted and utterly exhausted. I passed the padded envelope when I left my keys on the table by the door but ignored it...Naomi just giggled her way straight into the bathroom, cleaned her teeth and by the time I had done the same and followed her into the bedroom she was face down on the bed,. Snoring gently.
I nudged her reluctant frame over a bit, then dropped onto the bed beside her. After a few seconds when I thought the room was actually spinning, I closed my eyes and joined my love in the land of nod...
XXX
Naomi
Surprisingly enough, I felt OK when I woke today. I didn't know then it was as good as the day was gonna get, so excuse my optimism? Emily had already left. Although it was Sunday, she had a meeting planned at 10.30 with a prospective new sales guy in a Bristol Premier Inn. I have to give her full marks for dedication. Working Monday to Friday, specially for Stonem and Hurst, is plenty for me. But as she said more than once, when she's set up the whole sales team with her other manager, it will mean more time at home. The drones can do the leg work so she can do more stuff remotely. She's promised that for a couple of days a week at least, she'll be working from home. Lets just say my mouth waters at the prospect of a casually dressed Emily bending over her laptop in the lounge. Plenty more opportunities to seduce her...
Anyway, I got up slowly, not quite trusting my body not to abruptly remind me of the excesses of last night. But two full glasses of cold water, a couple of high strength paracetamol and a hot shower did the trick. By 11.30 I was even contemplating a trip down to the deli to pick up some food for lunch. Emily would be back at 1.30, latest...so I could surprise her with some of that crispy free range chicken they do and maybe a Caesar salad?
But I got sidetracked when I went into the hall to grab my coat and scarf. On the side table with my keys, which I had slung there drunkenly last night, was a small brown padded envelope. Like one of those they use to send passports and stuff? Only this one wasn't stamped HM Gov. Instead, it had a white address square with my full name printed on it and where the stamp or frank usually went, there was an embossed courier ID. Hand delivered then, I thought curiously as I aborted my trip to the deli and went back into the lounge, sitting down on the couch in front of the TV.
I flipped it over and slipped a nail under the glued flap. Inside, as I turned it upside down on the coffee table, was a slim, rectangular black plastic box, maybe 10cm long and half that wide. It was thin enough to fit comfortably inside the envelope, but felt quite substantial. I thought for a second it might have contained a mobile phone...it was the right shape and size, but as I held it in my hand, I could see a small catch on the long edge. I used my thumbnail to prise it open.
Inside, nestled in a red velvety material were three things.
A small hotel fridge type, mini bottle of what the label said was 15 year old scotch. A tiny label on the neck said "Drink Me" in flowing script.
Next to it, a wrapped sweet, looking very much like the mints they put on your pillow in hotels. Its own label said "Eat Me"
And lastly, sitting in the final compartment, was a red and black flip type flash drive. One of those tiny ones you get nowadays, that are powerful enough to hold hours of data. The label on it said simply "Watch Me"
I sat looking at it and its little companions for a while. Someone obviously had an Alice in Wonderland complex here. Curiouser and curiouser, I thought, even smiling to myself at its childishness and my instant amused response.
But just like Alice, I couldn't resist. No way was I drinking or eating mysterious beverages and mints from total strangers especially this close to a night of excess, but as I stared at the flash drive, I knew I had to know what was on it. God knows, I wish now I had been a little less fucking curious.
I was going to put the drive into my laptop, but with the sort of viruses about nowadays, I decided instead to plug it into the back of Emily's smart new 60" HDTV which had its own virus checker program.
Another decision I was about to regret.
There was a pause as the TV came to life and the remote control was adjusted to the right input socket.
Then what looked like a professionally edited title sequence came up.
'A very dedicated worker' the title scrolled from top to bottom.
Followed by an image of the outside of Jupiter Investments. Whoever had commissioned this little promo had obviously spent money on it.
Then the fade slid into what looked like a party scene. I recognised some of the people there...Rebecca, drinking with two girls from bought ledger...the camera then scanned to a grinning Tony Stonem, holding court with some more junior acolytes. More party goers, gurning at the camera. I could see the odious Hurst in the back ground, giving a thumbs up. It started to get boring...just lots of drunk people making fools of themselves. Then I recognised the figure on the the dance floor.
No prized for guessing. My Emily, obviously well hammered, dancing in the middle of the floor in a red silk party dress I'd not seen. I don't know how much she'd had to drink up to that point, but she looked well gone. Wild and uninhibited, I think you would describe her dancing. She looked stunning...irresistible. My mouth watered at her unfettered tits bouncing until I remembered whoever had sent this probably didn't intend me to get turned on...
The camera was slowly zoomed in on her until she filled the frame. Her face flushed and eyes closed, body whirling and rocking to the house music. I swallowed hard as she opened her eyes and grinned lazily at whoever was filming her. Then a voice sounded from behind the lens. It was hard to hear at first, but whoever it was repeated the phrase.
"Keep the footage Gemma...I'm going to fuck that little beauty tonight"
My body froze as I recognised the oily tones of Hurst himself.
The scene faded to black as Emily carried on dancing.
The next scene was in an upmarket hotel room, door open to the corridor. Deserted corridor. There was a rustle of clothing behind the camera, and I recognised the less detailed definition...so it was probably filmed on a phone. Someone kissed the holder of the phone on the cheek, making the image wobble.
"This is a secret right...no one is gonna know?" a worried voice came from the side. I recognised that voice of course. My lovers, husky and low as it always was the night after a lot of sex. She was obviously unaware that this guy (Hurst I guessed) was holding his phone to one side, at an angle so that I could see the room and Emily, as she slid out from under his naked arm and hugged herself as if she was suddenly cold. Her face swam into focus, bleary and with streaks of eye liner on her cheeks. She was looking up at Hurst, not down, so probably never even saw the phone.
The image wobbled again as he mumbled something indistinct, but again I heard a sloppy kiss off camera and my gorge threatened to throw up the water I had drunk earlier.
Then it faded again.
There followed a sequence mix of similar footage.
Emily smiling at him from the door to his office, winking as she left, zipping her skirt.
Emily getting up from her knees on the floor in front of him, then turning away to adjust her top, reaching for a white plastic cup filled with what looked like water. I didn't need a diagram to tell me what she'd been doing to get thirsty.
Emily dancing again, in some place I didn't recognise, smirking at the phone as she was filmed. Her eyes held the unmistakeable promise of sex to come. I withered inside as I watched her, with abject misery creeping up my body.
Then the coup de grace as it were. I was just reaching for the remote, sickened by what I was watching, when another title sequence came up on screen.
"Just in case she tells you she always faked it, Naomi?" it said in bold white lettering.
The scene faded in professionally again. Emily on her back on what looked like a hotel bed. A white towelling dressing gown she was wearing was wide open under her. Her eyes closed and mouth open, panting. The camera shook as whoever was above her moved deliberately. I knew exactly what was happening now. The bastard was fucking her...fucking MY Emily. Her face was flushed again, and she was breathing hard as he increased his speed. I have no doubt, even now, that she was totally unaware that she was being filmed. But it didn't matter. Did it?
Because as I watched with cold dread, he spoke to her in a low growl.
"Touch yourself baby...you know that makes you really come hard?"
I flinched at how well he seemed to know her preferences.
Emily groaned, eyes still firmly shut and I saw one arm come down from above her head. The movement of that arm after it slid down her body was as familiar to me as her breasts or face. Emily does like to touch herself when she gets close. I groaned low in my throat as her movements increased rapidly.
The man above her was pounding into her brutally fast now and I could hear the small liquid sounds of her body responding as her fingers and his cock drove her higher. Within another 5 seconds of footage, which I watched stupidly, Emily came.
Loud, long and deliriously.
The remote dropped from my hand as the scene faced with her hoarse cries still echoing in the empty apartment.
I stared numbly at the blank screen as the treacherous images disappeared.
One final caption came up.
"She lied to you" it said simply.
I couldn't be there another moment .Leaving the flash drive in the TV with its one line epilogue, I grabbed my coat and fled. I needed to think.
XXX
Part two of the final chapter follows by the end of the week. Comments?
Sorry its in two parts, but I wanted to do the last one justice. Expect a few thousand words. Reviews would be lovely!