{"id":3620,"date":"2013-12-30T18:20:49","date_gmt":"2013-12-31T00:20:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/?page_id=3620"},"modified":"2026-02-23T01:16:49","modified_gmt":"2026-02-23T06:16:49","slug":"cassie05","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/extras\/vignettes-outtakes\/confessions\/cassie05\/","title":{"rendered":"The Executor"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n

MARCH 2004<\/p>\n

Washington, D.C.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cSO,\u201d HE SAID AS he strode into the suite I\u2019d booked for the weekend. \u201cYou got my attention. Now keep it.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took one look at that big, muscular body and the chestnut curls, the ice blue eyes\u2014<\/p>\n

\u2014fuck me that I only wanted<\/em> to have sex with gay men. What was<\/em> it about me?<\/p>\n

He stood in the middle of the room in an expensive suit, relaxed, his hands in his pockets, and looked right through me, as if he could see into my soul.<\/p>\n

I approached him, my dressing gown open enough for him to see patches of my cleavage, glimpses of nipples and pussy. I hoped he was bisexual \u2026<\/p>\n

He wrapped his arm around me when I slithered against him, and he lowered his mouth to mine, kissing me expertly. I ran my hand up the inside of his leg and felt him up. He had an impressive cock as far as I could tell, but it was flaccid and, I knew, would remain so.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd that,\u201d he whispered against my mouth as the kiss faded away, \u201cis all you\u2019re going to get.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, shit,\u201d I muttered, turning away from him to head into the bathroom.<\/p>\n

He chuckled and took off his tie, his suit coat, his shoes and socks, and while he undressed, I threw on some comfortable pajamas. I don\u2019t care to be half nude in front of men who don\u2019t want me, so what did I care about wearing plaid flannel and chenille?<\/p>\n

I found him sitting at the table in the dining area picking over the appetizers with a fork.<\/p>\n

\u201cMen like you are a crime against womanhood.\u201d<\/p>\n

He snorted. \u201cSo I\u2019ve been told.\u201d He looked up at me, gave me the once over and grinned.<\/p>\n

\u201cShut up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNow you know, my reputation\u2019s gonna fry if it comes out I spent the weekend with New York\u2019s highest-priced call girl.\u201d<\/p>\n

I waved a hand. \u201cNo, it won\u2019t. They\u2019ll think I cured you straight. Your credibility goes up along with my rates.\u201d<\/p>\n

We settled in to eat the fabulous food the Watergate Hotel had conjured up, and he said, \u201cOkay, now tell me the story.\u201d<\/p>\n

So I did.<\/p>\n

It was after three o\u2019clock in the morning when I came to the end of it.<\/p>\n

We lay in bed together, spooned. He wore bike shorts and a tee shirt. I had discarded the chenille robe, but had needed the comfort of my PJs. It was dark. We had both dozed here and again. He stroked my hair absently, as if he knew I liked it and never got that.<\/p>\n

I liked feeling this man against my body, his calm cheer. He was far less boisterous in private than he was in public.<\/p>\n

He was quiet.<\/p>\n

Gentle.<\/p>\n

The loud, gregarious man was a front for the real Morgan Ashworth.<\/p>\n

\u201cGood heavens,\u201d he said with a stunned tone and a frustrated exhale. \u201cYou write for General Hospital<\/em> on the side, don\u2019t you?\u201d <\/p>\n

\u201cUnfortunately, no,\u201d I whispered, turning into him, the bed sheets rustling with an intimacy I hadn\u2019t known in a long time, if ever. \u201cMy life is a soap opera.\u201d Our legs twined together and we kissed for a long time. Softly. Kisses of friendship and vague desire.<\/p>\n

I felt him stir, but not enough. He would never stir enough.<\/p>\n

Oh, were he not gay \u2026<\/p>\n

And Mormon.<\/p>\n

\u201cGo to sleep, Cassie,\u201d Morgan whispered to me finally. I buried my nose in his chest and he smoothed my hair back behind my ear. He dropped a kiss on the top of my head. \u201cI won\u2019t let anything happen to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t figure out why his tee shirt was getting wet.<\/p>\n

WE SPENT SATURDAY together on the floor in the sitting area of the hotel suite, using the couches and the coffee table as our desk to hammer out our agreement.<\/p>\n

\u201cAren\u2019t you going to ask me what you get out of this?\u201d I finally asked him, when it began to appear that he had all the responsibility to me, and I had none to him.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d he said absently, not looking at me, writing on this paper or that paper.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d Now I was getting suspicious.<\/p>\n

He shrugged. \u201cCan\u2019t a guy do something nice for somebody?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Tell me why you\u2019re not asking for anything.\u201d I wasn\u2019t joking.<\/p>\n

He took a deep breath and ran his thumb and forefinger down the creases around his mouth. \u201cI \u2026 don\u2019t know how to put it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDo it anyway.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFine. I feel impressed<\/em> that I should.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him, confused. \u201cWhat the hell kind of answer is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cTake it or leave it,\u201d he snapped.<\/p>\n

I didn’t understand it, but I supposed, considering what I needed, it didn\u2019t matter why<\/em> he was willing to do it, just that he was. \u201cWhatever.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan looked at me then, his face perfectly serious, and said, \u201cIf you think I\u2019m not that kind of guy, what is it about me that made you call me?\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked away.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs it because you\u2019re just generally that cynical, that you really don\u2019t<\/em> trust me but I\u2019m the best of a bad lot of people who can do what you want, or that you don\u2019t think you deserve to have nice things done for you, or that somebody would even want to?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, shut up,\u201d I muttered. \u201cIt just makes me uncomfortable. It means I owe you.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sighed. \u201cLook,\u201d he finally said after a long silence spent doing nothing. \u201cWe don\u2019t work that way. My family, I mean. Me. The rest of us. It looks that way to the outside world, but that\u2019s not the way it really is.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know,\u201d I said low.<\/p>\n

\u201cHow<\/em> do you know?\u201d he insisted.<\/p>\n

I gulped. \u201cYour idiot cousin. Hilliard. Giving all his money away constantly. As far as I can tell, he\u2019d do it even if it weren\u2019t a big red herring.\u201d<\/p>\n

I could feel the vibrations of the couch from Morgan\u2019s low chuckle. \u201cHe doesn\u2019t care so much about money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have a strange family,\u201d I muttered. \u201cYour other cousin. LaMontagne. Just throws ideas out into the wind, all his training and brilliance, talking to people about his work, never expecting any return, not caring if people steal from him \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell,\u201d Morgan said after a moment. \u201c\u00c9tienne\u2019s hard to explain \u2026 \u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, I\u2019m very well aware of what he is. At least his wife has the good sense to keep her ideas close to the vest and him from spilling everything.\u201d<\/p>\n

He snorted. \u201cShe\u2019s the same way. Hers manifests differently.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Lord. Two<\/em> of them.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe truth is, nobody could duplicate what they do anyway, so it doesn\u2019t matter if they spill their guts. It\u2019s how they got rich in spite of themselves.\u201d<\/p>\n

I sighed.<\/p>\n

\u201cNow I guess I can figure out why you chose me.\u201d Morgan gestured over the papers spread out all over that would be shredded and then burned in the suite\u2019s fireplace before we left. \u201cI\u2019m a nice guy with a nice family.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThere are a lot of nice families out there. Also rich. Also powerful.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cName one.\u201d<\/p>\n

I couldn\u2019t. He knew it. I knew it.<\/p>\n

\u201cNobody else will grant or take favors without strings. Nobody else will whip out a gun when it\u2019s necessary just because it needs to be done. We aren\u2019t any flavor of Mafia, Cassie. No, we don’t have people<\/em>. We do our own<\/em> dirty work. That\u2019s why you\u2019ve been watching us, why you\u2019re so fascinated by us, and why you called me<\/em> to protect you. You know I will never<\/em> farm this out to anyone outside my family, and my family does not ask questions when given a task, and we keep our mouths shut.\u201d<\/p>\n

It took me a moment, but then I nodded. Reluctantly. \u201cIt\u2019s why everybody\u2019s fascinated by you,\u201d I groused.<\/p>\n

He gestured at our mess, the laptops now open on the coffee table, dutifully filtering through data. \u201cLike you\u2019re much different. You just don\u2019t have the stomach for killing.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought of the plans I\u2019d laid, upon whom I\u2019d taken revenge, upon whom I still intended to take revenge and why, and how to deal with the collateral damage. None of these people warranted blood on my hands, but they did warrant swift and severe retribution\u2014<\/p>\n

\u2014and what I had planned would come back on me.<\/p>\n

I sighed. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

Morgan and his family would do what I could not.<\/p>\n

★<\/p>\n

\nCassie Part 1<\/a>
\nCassie Part 2<\/a>
\nCassie Part 3<\/a>
\nCassie Part 4<\/a>
\nCassie Part 5<\/span>\n<\/div>\n
20260223<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

MARCH 2004 Washington, D.C. \u201cSO,\u201d HE SAID AS he strode into the suite I\u2019d booked for the weekend. \u201cYou got my attention. Now keep it.\u201d I took one look at that big, muscular body and the chestnut curls, the ice blue eyes\u2014 \u2014fuck me that I only wanted to have sex with gay men. What […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":1599,"menu_order":4321,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-3620","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3620"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3620"}],"version-history":[{"count":30,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3620\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":23587,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/3620\/revisions\/23587"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/1599"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/moriahjovan.com\/talesofdunham\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3620"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}