DEPRAVITY: Love Depraved

by Natalie Bennett

  What did it feel like inside one’s heart?

  In the end, none of that mattered because in the end I felt…nothing

  There were to frequent of times that my chest had flared with an emotion I couldn’t name.

  Always when I fixed things, when Dad said we had a secret, and oddly when Declan wrapped his hand around my wrist.

  Thinking of Declan, I walked to the door and pressed my ear against the smooth wooden surface.

  No sound came directly from the other side.

  Declan and his friend must have returned to their party.

  I undid the lock, flipped off the light, and stepped back into the hall.

  “We were beginning to think you fell in,” Ethan’s voice came from the right.

  Looking in his direction, I saw neither he nor Declan had gone anywhere. They had simply moved away from the bathroom.

  “What would I fall into?”

  They both glanced away from me and shared a silent message between them.

  “That was Ethan’s shitty attempt at joking,” Declan answered.

  “Oh.” I ran a finger along the hem of my patchwork dress. “I’m done now.”

  “Good, we were waiting for you.”

  They were waiting for me?

  He pushed off the wall and closed the space between us, leaving Ethan where he was.

  “We haven’t officially met.”

  “I—.”

  “Declan Andreou.” He stopped a mere few inches away from me and held out his hand.

  I looked at it a second before mimicking the motion. His hand engulfed mine, skin smooth and warm, not unpleasant to touch.

  Again…it was different.

  “Helena Gardener,” I told him my name as he had done, and pulled free.

  “Ethan Jackson,” Ethan added, walking up beside Declan.

  Was I supposed to say my name again?

  Ethan seemed to know what I was thinking.

  “I know who you are, sweetheart.” He smiled at me, showing two rows of white teeth.

  Unsure what to do next, I stood in the silence that had descended upon us, waiting and wondering if they intended to escort me back down to the first floor.

  But they didn’t speak. I think they were studying me. I felt the pressure of their stares and wanted nothing more than to lift it from my person.

  It was unwelcome and intrusive.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t a physical entity I could grasp with my hands.

  I diverted my attention to the black and white floor.

  “No, no. Let me see you.” Declan gently pinched my lower jaw between his thumb and index finger, making me look up at him.

  We were so close to one another.

  I’d never been in such close proximity of a man before.

  Not one other than Dad that is.

  I smelled a hint of mint on his breath. I could see his lips were pink and soft. And his eyes were unlike anything I had seen before—two pools of molten silver that threatened to see right through me.

  My skin got that prickly sensation again, and there was an odd flutter in my chest.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured. “Look at her.” He turned my face towards Ethan, ensuring my blue met his copper.

  His head tilted to the side and his brows slanted inward.

  They were studying me.

  “I think it’s time you have that chat with Heath,” he stated after a moment.

  “I think you’re right.” Declan dropped his hand and took a minuscule step backward. “You’ll watch her?”

  “Course,” Ethan replied.

  “Come on, sweetheart. We’ll go dance.”

  With that, I once more found my hand held captive within another, within a man’s, now being led in the direction we had come from.

  “I don’t dance.”

  “Tonight you do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Declan

  I made sure my Uncle Julian was in place before seeking out Heath.

  As I reached the bottom of the stairs, Mason intercepted me, leaving Katie behind at the snack table with my father.

  “He’s out front,” he said as a way of greeting.

  “How did you know who I was looking for?”

  “Because I know you,” he replied matter-of-factly, falling in step beside me.

  Together we made our way towards the front door.

  Women openly gawked, eyeing us as if we were rare pieces of treasure, practically drooling all over themselves.

  Men stared green in the face when they realized what who had stolen their dates’ attention.

  I grinned to myself, knowing when they spread their legs later tonight and buried their dicks deep inside their pussies, it would be us they were thinking of as they grew slick, rapidly building towards a peak that would have them coming harder than they had in months.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if an Andreou name fell from their parted lips.

  The long-time benefactors and spectators, new and old greeted us with head nods and small waves, all with respect and admiration.

  I swear sometimes I felt like a damn king.

  “You like her?” Mason asked as we stepped outside where there weren’t near as many people, not with the temperature dropping.

  I considered his question, not real sure how to answer.

  Look wise; she wasn’t sexy. That word didn’t fit her in the slightest. She was a tiny thing, maybe five feet exactly and slender.

  Her cheekbones were high and round, nose small, brows thin.

  She had flawless porcelain skin, and deliciously plump lips that I knew would feel amazing against mine, and look even better when they were wrapped around Ethan’s dick as I fucked her from behind.

  The shimmery golden mane on her head fell in subtle waves nearly to a waist hidden beneath the gaudy costume she was wearing.

  And her eyes…

  I was wrong when I’d told myself that wasn’t what initially intrigued me.

  They told me all I needed to know.

  They were two gorgeous blue moons, almost unnaturally large, and just as empty as she was.

  There was nothing inside her. She was as frigid as a corpse and just as lifeless. She was death disguised as a pretty doll. I’d never seen anything so lovely.

  Helena was beautiful.

  It was in those fleeting seconds that I held her full attention when I knew for sure; this girl was meant to be mine.

  No, not just mine, ours.

  Ethan felt it too, and that solidified what we needed to do.

  But…

  “I don’t know her nearly enough to answer that.”

  “True, but you also don’t know if she might turn your cock into a sack of stuffing for pissing her off.”

  I side eyed him.

  “Do you worry about Katie skinning your skull when you piss her off?”

  “Please,” he scoffed. “There is no pissing Katie off. I worship the ground she walks on, plus she thinks I’m a god.”

  I didn’t have a comeback for that. He was right, smug fucking bastard.

  “She’ll be worth it,” I affirmed.

  “So you do like her.”

  A statement this time, not a question.

  Ignoring his gleeful tone, I walked up behind Heath and tapped him on the shoulder.

  The two men he was conversing with were quick to give Mason and me a quick greeting before scampering off.

  My intent must have been visibly apparent.

  When Heath turned, eyes so much like Helena’s’, but completely wrong, flickered between my cousin and I.

  “Is something wrong?” He swallowed, fear already beginning to bead in balls of sweat on his forehead.

  It was an odd reaction considering how long he’d been our financial advisor. To my knowledge, we had never threatened him.

  I tucked this away for later, much more concerned with his daughter.

  “I’m not sure yet. Come with me and let’s find out.”

 
; He swallowed again, nervous now, giving a subtle nod for me to lead the way.

  I forgo sitting in my usual spot, taking a chair in front of the desk.

  Mason stood with hands in his pockets near the door.

  Heath looked like he was about to piss himself across from Uncle Julian, directly beside me.

  “Heath,” my Uncle purred, taking immediate control of the situation.

  I knew then he had something up his brilliantly devious sleeve.

  “Is there a particular reason why you look as if you’re about to shit your pants?”

  Heath adjusted in his chair, shaking his head.

  “You sure?”

  “I’m fine, Mr. Andreou,” he rasped, clearly not fine.

  “Hmmm,” my Uncle hummed in response. “But your daughter isn’t, is she?”

  “M-my daughter? Helena?” His voice slightly pitched and his whole demeanor changed. “Of course she’s fine, unless… has she done something?”

  “Like what?” Mason asked, creeping closer to the back of Heath’s chair.

  “She sometimes, uh,” he fumbled. “She likes to fix things.”

  “Is that what she did to her Mother? She fixed her?” Uncle Julian inquired.

  Heath looked from him to me, to over his shoulder at Mason, then back.

  “Oh, please Heath. Mason is my son, and Declan is my nephew. Did you honestly think they wouldn’t know?”

  An audible swallow.

  “She isn’t a bad girl,” he started.

  “So tell us what she is then, Heath. Psychopath, sociopath, serial killer? I don’t like those terms myself, so feel free to hop in if you come up with something better,” I said.

  “Helena is not a psychopath!” He yelled. “She’s not any of those things,” he added in a much quieter tone.

  Releasing a heavy sigh, he looked up at the ceiling as if it were going to part and grant him a reprieve from this conversation.

  He leaned forward, clasping his hands together on his knees, and slowly explained.

  “Her mother used to swear Helena was ruthless, selfish, and manipulative. She said she was willing to do anything to get what she wants.

  But that’s bullshit. It is a goddamn misnomer to consider my daughter an evil or malicious person.

  “She just…doesn’t understand. I can’t tell you what went wrong. Maybe it was the severity of her isolation. More than likely it was that paired with her Mother brainwashing her into thinking she’s sick and that there isn’t a cure for it.”

  Heath released another sigh and chuckled to himself.

  “She doesn’t understand human morality.

  “She has major issues with empathy and difficulty expressing or understanding emotions. I know she can feel, though. Feel happy and sad, anger and compassion. She just doesn’t know how to be human right now. It’s going to take some time for her to learn.

  And despite what she’s done, I can assure you that Helena does not have cruel impulses. She doesn’t go out of her way to hurt people.”

  By the time he was done his chest was heaving, and perspiration dotted his chin.

  There was an elongated pause as we processed what he said. His explanation slid everything about Helena into a much clearer light, if he was correct.

  There was no way of knowing how well he knew a girl that had the issues he’d just described.

  “Describe this sickness?”

  Damn, that was a vile word on my tongue. My mind had already determined she wasn’t sick at all; she was perfectly imperfect.

  “All I know is that they think of it as a seed. That grows.”

  Interesting.

  I nodded, satisfied.

  Anything else I wanted to know I would pry out of the girl one way or another because if there was one thing I was sure of more than anything now, it’s that she was mine.

  His answer had doused my intrigue with enough fuel to ignite a desire, a desire that would only grow stronger when Ethan heard all I had learned.

  Helena had the potential to be everything we wanted.

  She was essentially a blank canvas.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  She was like the hawkmoths I collected; only stuck in a perpetual silken cocoon with no idea how to break free.

  My mind began to race with how I could go about moving forward with her. Obviously a usual approach wasn’t going to work.

  Then my Uncle dropped the deviant bomb he’d been holding the entire time.

  “Helena will be staying with my nephew and his partner from this point on.”

  “Pardon me?” Heath blinked rapidly; his mouth hung slightly open.

  “You heard me.”

  “Yes, but I don’t understand.”

  “What is there to misunderstand, Heath? You just gave a lengthy explanation on how your daughter needed to learn how to live. Is Dahlia not the perfect place for her to do that?”

  His lips flapped open and closed, but no sound came out. This was the last thing he expected to hear.

  I hid an amused grin behind my hand.

  “I never said it wasn’t but what do Declan and Ethan have to…”

  The look on his face as realization dawned was priceless.

  “Helena doesn’t know anything about that she’s a—.”

  “That beautiful girl hasn’t had a dick buried between her slender legs?” I leaned back in my chair, pretending to be shocked.

  “My god, we couldn’t be more surprised,” Mason drawled, playing along with me.

  “Look on the bright side Heath, now she’ll have two,” I casually tossed out.

  His jaw clenched so hard I heard it pop. I had to give the man credit; he was doing a commendable job of holding himself together.

  “You have until six tomorrow evening to have her things together. Ethan will come to get her and bring her home.”

  Now it was me hiding the surprise I felt. My Uncle clearly had time to work all this out.

  “Helena should be around people more understanding of her transgressions.

  “I’m sure you haven’t told Bridgette or Molly what she’s done. Just like you haven’t told them what it is you do on your lunch breaks. Which means you aren’t going to make this difficult, correct?” Uncle Julian asked when Heath remained mute.

  He looked over at me, probably spewing a million threats and slurs he didn’t have the balls to voice aloud.

  “Her job, Molly…”

  I refrained from rolling my goddamn eyes. I never knew Heath was such a fucking bore.

  “Don’t be so melodramatic. She can keep her job. We’re not going to isolate her again.”

  “He’s right. She can see you whenever she wants, with boundaries, of course,” Uncle Julian explained.

  Heath nodded, rubbing his hands over the fabric of his costume.

  He sealed his daughter’s fate with the slumping of his shoulders and a dejected sigh.

  Come tomorrow, Helena Gardener would be exactly where she belonged.

  Chapter Twelve

  Helena

  I’d seen dancing enough on the television to know it wasn’t unusual.

  It was something people did at functions such as this. Sometimes to the kind of music Molly listened to.

  Not but two songs in, and I didn’t understand the appeal.

  This was not comfortable.

  People were staring, lots of people.

  My personal space was gone.

  Ethan stood so close that if I were to tilt my head back and rise on my tip-toes, our lips would be connected.

  I found the idea of that…not so bothersome.

  I knew Ethan was a stranger, but when my eyes drifted to his, I found myself thinking he was pretty.

  His hands were large and warm, resting respectably away from my bottom, unlike many of the other duos swaying together. That made me more inclined not to remove them.

  While I may not have understood a lot of the things or behaviors around me, I often wished to.

&nbs
p; “You don’t smile often do you?” he asked, doing so himself when I replied, “No.”

  “Don’t talk much either, huh?”

  I shook my head.

  “You will. You’ll do both soon enough. You’re too damn gorgeous not to.”

  Gorgeous? That was the first time I’d heard that before about myself.

  And Declan had called me beautiful.

  Is that really how they saw me?

  “I don’t…”

  From my peripheral, I caught a glimpse of Dad watching us. His jaw repeatedly clenched and unclenched.

  Mother did that when she got upset.

  “I need to go now,” I said to Ethan, easily breaking out of his embrace.

  I made my way to Dad, who then quickly ushered me, Molly, and Bridgette back into the car.

  He remained mute the entire drive back to his house.

  He didn’t look at me once the rest of the night.

  Once his car was parked in the driveway everyone got out, I lingered for a minute or so, wondering where I could go.

  Now I could say for certain, this place was not my home.

  Part Two

  “Metamorphosis is the most profound of all acts.”

  ―Catherynne M.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Helena

  I fixed something again.

  And I had help.

  It had begun to rain; the sun was rapidly sinking behind clouds of gray.

  In nothing but a quarter-sleeve white sweater and a thin pair of what Molly called yoga-pants, a chill had found its way to my skin.

  The cloth bag slung over my shoulder was a hindrance, slowing me down. I had taken it based off more of Molly’s suggestions. There wasn’t a thing inside it but the cellphone I never used.

  Tendrils of wet hair clung to the top of my head.

  I’d gone to explore the woodland just outside Dad’s neighborhood a little over an hour ago, and was now on my way back.

  That’s when I saw him.

  Rounding around a bramble, a fluttering came from my left, followed by a low, tired croak.

  I stopped and swiped some stray hairs out of my face, taking a look around.

  Moving closer to where the sound had come from, I found myself near the base of a gnarled tree.

  There on the muddied ground, near a large root, was an injured raven.