Authors: Sinden West
After
he came in my mouth, he pushed me away, so I had to lean back on my hands to
stop sprawling over the carpet. He fixed himself up then leaned back in the
armchair.
“You
want a turn with her?”
I
hadn’t realized that Aaron was even in the room. I turned my head slightly to
look at him. He sat on the couch and caught my eye briefly before answering.
“Nah.
I’m good.”
“Suit
yourself.” He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me closer, so my head was
against his leg, then he patted my hair like I was a dog. “Honey, you sure are
good at that. I think I might keep you and rent you out. You’d be surprised how
few women can give a really good blowjob. Aaron here has a few associates who
run that kind of thing, don’t you, boy?”
In
the two days that he’d been here, there had been no attempts at justification
for his actions, religious or otherwise. It was like he had given up any farce
and accepted what he was and his desires. He certainly seemed happier and
hadn’t been as brutal as he was the first day.
Aaron
rolled his eyes. “They’re not into sex trafficking. I think you’d struggle
putting someone so reluctant into one of the brothels.”
He
chuckled. “Well, maybe I need to start a venture of my own then, what do you
think?” He leaned down and grabbed my chin, forcing my face up so I was forced
to look at him. “After all, I did lose my job because of you.”
I
stayed quiet.
“Go
pour me a drink. How about you, Aaron?”
“Sure.”
I
got to my feet and began to move toward the tray which held the glasses and the
alcohol, but not before a stinging slap was delivered to my bare ass. I
flinched, but I shouldn’t have, I should have known to expect it by now. I filled
a glass and passed it to Aaron, before getting one for him. After he took hold
of the glass, he grabbed my arm and pulled me so I was across his lap. His hand
continually squeezed then slapped my ass. It was unbelievable that I still felt
humiliation as he played his games.
“Jesus,
give it a rest, would you? Put her back in her room or something,” Aaron said.
I couldn’t see him from my position, but he sounded bored.
He
laughed again. “You sure you don’t want a turn with her? It’s the least I could
do.”
“She’s
not my type.”
He
gave me a shove, so I landed on the floor, and then he grabbed my hair to keep
me close. Once again I was a pet at his feet. I wished I could take this
fucking dog collar off. It really did remind me of my place. Neither of them spoke
for a while, and then when he did, it took me by surprise.
“So
how’s your mother doing?”
It
was the most human question that he had asked me since re-entering my life.
“She’s
fine.” My voice was as flat and emotionless as I could make it.
“She
sounds fine in her letters.”
My
head snapped up, and I turned to look up at him. He was staring down at me,
looking amused. “What? Didn’t you know she was writing me in prison?”
He
took my silence to confirm my ignorance, and he was right to. “She’s a damn
good letter writer, that one. So poetic, even a trip to the supermarket comes
alive with her words.”
My
mother was a woman of many talents.
His
face became serious again. “The only downside to her letters was when she
talked about
you.
She told me about the spoilt brat you’d become. That
you were nothing but trouble. She asked me for money to help send you to
college just so she’d be free of you.”
Bitch,
Bitch, Bitch, Fucking Bitch
“But
I don’t really think that you’re worth spending money on, do you?” He sipped his
drink.
“She
wrote
to you?” My voice came out thin and weak, betraying the disgust
and betrayal I felt.
“She
sure did.” He looked smug as he said that, and I just wanted to slap that look
off his face.
“
After
everything you did
?” This voice came from a girl nearing the edge of a cliff
that descended down into rage and craziness.
And
then I laughed.
He
straightened. “And what’s so funny about that?” The menace was clear. I would
pay. He would make sure I paid. But I didn’t care.
“You’re
so fucking stupid.”
“What
the fuck did you just say?” he spat. That’s it, get him angry and then he might
kill you.
“I
said that you’re so
fucking
stupid.” He didn’t move, just stared at me
with eyes bulging. “You’re an idiot. She tried to
con
you. She knew
about your background and thought you’d be easy to manipulate.” I let out a
small laugh. “Only she didn’t realize how crazy you really were until you beat
the shit out of me. I mean, you could fuck and hurt me any way you saw fit, but
when she actually saw you hitting and kicking me, that, of all things, freaked
the stupid bitch out. I suppose she thought it was safe to try and manipulate
you when you were in prison.”
He
punched me in the face, hard. I fell backward, not really feeling the pain,
only the endorphins that came from recklessly telling him the truth. I didn’t
have survival instincts anymore. I only had pleasure from causing him pain.
He
hit me again, but I still kept my eyes open as I lay there on the ground like a
sacrificial lamb being bled for the good of a mythical god. His arm reached
back to punch me again, but Aaron’s arm stopped him.
“Stop.
You’re going to kill her.”
He
pushed at Aaron, his eyes flaring with rage. “Who the hell do you think you
are? Telling me what to do?”
He
went to punch Aaron, but the younger man got there first. I heard the crack as
his head hit the stone hearth. I saw his eyes turn to glass as blood began to
trickle from his head wound.
I
managed to get to my knees, and it took me a while to process that he was dead.
I dared to look at Aaron. He was standing there, breathing heavily and staring
at the body of his friend. I didn’t dare breathe or move in case he looked at
me.
We
stayed there like statues for at least a minute, until finally his eyes turned
to me.
“You
should go up to your room.” His voice was oddly calm.
I
swallowed and shook my head. “No. You do whatever you’re going to do now. I’m
not going to sit up there waiting for you to come up and kill me. I deserve
more than that.”
A
look came over him that turned my stomach.
“Just
fucking go!”
I
did.
I
huddled on the bed with the blanket wrapped around me and listened. The door
was wide open; he hadn’t followed me up the stairs to lock me in. There was
silence for a long time, and then I heard noises downstairs, and the front door
creak open.
I
thought about trying to run. I thought about the two cars that sat parked
outside and the keys that must be somewhere in the house.
But
I didn’t. He had said he’d hunt me down, and I knew he would. He already had
one body to bury; two wouldn’t be that much more effort. I had to be smart
about this.
So
I just waited.
I
tensed when I finally heard footsteps on the stairs, but he just walked
straight past me to the bathroom without glancing at me. A minute later I heard
the shower turned on. He stayed in there for a long time. When the water was
finally shut off, and door opened, he went straight to his own room. I waited
again, and he still didn’t come out.
Finally,
I worked up the courage to move off the bed. I left the blanket behind and
walked quietly to his bedroom. The door was half open and I pushed it so it
opened all the way.
Aaron
sat on the bed with his legs stretched out as he leaned against the headboard.
He was wrapped in a towel, and drops of water still lay on his skin. A glass of
amber liquid rested in his hand as he just stared straight ahead.
I
stood awkwardly in the doorway, wondering if he even knew that I was there. He
took a drink, and his eyes darted quickly to me then away again.
“What
do you want, Rachel?” he asked in a tired voice.
I
swallowed and moved closer. I dared to sit on the edge of the bed, facing
toward him.
“What
did you do with his body?” I asked softly.
He
barked out a short laugh. “Why? So you can go pay your respects? Or maybe so
you can go and dance on it?” He lifted his glass to his lips and took a long
drink. “Don’t worry, honey. You don’t need to know where the bodies are
buried.”
“Bodies?”
I frowned.
His
lips twisted before he took another drink. “Don’t worry your little head about
it. Ignorance is bliss,” he muttered.
“So
what happens now?” I made my voice strong and steady.
“I
thought we’d have a wake. Have a drink.” He motioned toward the bottle that sat
on the dresser before throwing what remained in his glass down his throat. “No?
At least fill mine up.” He threw the glass at me and I caught it easily. I
filled it to the brim before carefully carrying it over to him and setting it
down on the bedside table. I went to move away, but his hand caught my wrist,
giving it a tug so that I fell forward onto the bed. He pulled me close so I
was forced to sit next to him. Even then, he didn’t let go of my wrist despite
me trying to wrench it free. I finally gave up and sat still beside him.
He
gave me a smug look and took a drink. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I
don’t want to be here if you’re angry at me. Because you shouldn’t be, I didn’t
do this. I didn’t make you hit him.” My voice rose toward the end, almost
panicking.
He
gave me a hard look before rolling his eyes. “Relax,
Rachel
.” He let go
of my wrist, and I rubbed it even though it didn’t hurt. “I just need…to be
distracted. You can be my distraction, so go ahead. Distract me.”
I
swallowed and moved my hands toward his towel. But before I could touch him he
shoved me away. I looked at him in surprise, and the disgust on his face was
evident.
“Not
that
.”
Embarrassment
flooded over me, and surprise. I sat up straight. “I thought that was what you
wanted?”
He
lifted his drink to his lips before answering, “Not everything’s about sex.”
I
raised an eyebrow. “Really? I thought that’s why I was here. To be sexually
humiliated and degraded because you’ve certainly done enough of that.”
He
rolled his eyes again. “Since you like to talk so much, why don’t you tell me a
story? Why don’t you tell me all about you and your oh so lovely mother.”
I
glared at him. “I’d rather suck your cock.”
“That’s
not what I’m offering. Now go ahead and tell me all about what you and your Mom
do; otherwise I’ll take you out to the barn.”
“I’m
not going to let you hurt my mother.”
He
smirked. “Who said anything about hurting anyone? Go ahead. Talk. I’ll make it
easy on you. What’s your real name?”
I
bit my lip, then answered. “Paige Sanders.”
He
shrugged. “You still look more like a Rachel. Anyway, this little scam you
tried to pull, have you done this before?”
I
thought about lying, but he would know, I knew he would.
“Yes.”
He
didn’t look surprised. “How many times?”
I
fidgeted. “How many times?”
“How
many times did you screw your mother’s boyfriends to blackmail them?”
I
shifted uncomfortably under his unwavering gaze.
“Five.”
“And
when did you start?”
“When
I was thirteen.”
He
moved off the bed and refilled his drink, taking his time before returning to
sit beside me again.
“Did
it work out?” His eyes were back on me again.
I
looked him directly in the eye. “Yes. And they were all nice to me. Not like
him
.
”
He
chuckled. “Nice pedophiles?”
“I
thought you said he wasn’t a pedophile?” I snapped at him.
His
smile dropped, and his hand came up to grip my chin, tilting my head up. “I
don’t want you to talk about him.
Ever.
You understand?”
“
Yes,”
I said through gritted teeth. He released me suddenly and I rubbed at my jaw
while he drank more.
“Tell
me about your mother.”
“What
do you want to know?” I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Let’s
start with her real name.”
“Holly
Sanders,” I lied. It was effortless on my tongue. Old habits die hard.
“And
you’re con artists?”
“I
guess.” I hugged myself harder. “We were. But we’re not now. She got freaked
out after what he did, and she found out he had mob connections or something.”
I dared look at him, only to meet eyes staring directly at me. “I guess that’s
you. Am I right?”
He
didn’t answer.
I
took a breath. “Why don’t you tell me about you? There’s no harm in that.”
He
looked amused. “And why is there no harm in that?”
I
dug my nails into my arms. “Because you’re not going to let me go. Are you?” I
said softly.
He
looked away “I’m done talking. This has been a pretty shitty day, so you either
go back to your room,” he emptied what remained in his glass down his throat,
“or you come over here and distract me like you offered before. Choice is
yours.” The glass came down on the bedside table with a bang and I couldn’t
take my eyes off of it. The light glinted off the cut glass and I imagined
smashing it into his head.
But
instead I did the wisest thing, and reached over to free him from his towel.