by Bane, Lucian
He looked down. “Man, I found this under that big planter in the room, makes for a great wheelchair when you’re desperate. Can you grab the fucking ice cream sandwiches? I got the munchies bad.”
“I thought you had the wheelchair?” Sade realized what he was wearing. “Dude, please tell me why the fuck you’re wearing a dress.”
He let out a deep goofy laugh. “It’s Liberty’s. She made me her bitch, man.” He grinned up from the floor while Sade reached in and got his snack.
“I was about to ask how it went with you and Lady Liberty.”
“Oh my God, dude,” he whispered, leaning to look at the living room a moment then back up, his face crimped. “She puked all over me while…”
Sade’s brows raised. “While what? I’m not going to guess man.”
He moved his finger in and out of his mouth then made a gagging sound, causing Sade to wince in disgust. “Yeah, man. Was fucking nasssstyyyy. Then she like passes out.” Bo smacked one hand onto the other in demonstration before scooted himself away from the fridge and shutting it. Sade watched him propel himself toward the island with his hands like a mental patient on a skateboard. In a red dress.
Bo made his way off the little board onto his knees then pulled himself up the barstool. “Fuck,” he gasped when he was sitting finally. “Everything… exhausts me!” he said flabbergasted.
Sade sat next to him and slid the box of ice cream sandwiches next to him. “You’re still healing.”
He tore into the box and opened one, moaning in ecstasy with his mouth full, taking another huge bite before he finished the first. Sade watched him devour it in three chomps.
“You’re gonna get a brain freeze, dude.”
“Mmm,” he said, chewing slowly with his eyes closed. “Don’t care,” he mumbled, opening another one. “Duuuude,” he whispered, turning to Sade. “I think she put something in my drink, I’m sooooo fucking hiiiiiigh.” He took a huge bite again, grunting and smacking loudly. “She’s so fine bro,” he whispered.
Sade grinned. “Liberty?”
He nodded real big and slowly, making Sade laugh. “I thought you didn’t like her?”
“I soooo liiiiied,” he shrilled. “Did you not see her in that red dress?” He lifted the material. “This one?” He put his hand on Sade’s chest, stuffing the rest of his ice cream in his mouth. “Dude,” he mumbled his cheeks full as he shook his head, “no words.” He kept shaking with long sweeps. “No. Words!”
Sade moved the box out of his reach and Bo looked at him with narrowed gaze, ice cream sandwich caked on the edge of his mouth. “Come on man,” he whined.
“You’re gonna be sick.”
He plopped his head on the counter and moaned. “What am I going to do now?”
“About what?”
“Her man! How am I going to face her after she vomited all over my dick!?” He squinted his eyes at Sade. “She’s not going to want to look at me now, she’s probly all embaaarassssed and shit.” He propped his head on one hand, his eyes closed. “She’s soooooo amazing man. So hot. I was really, really, really, ready to have a fucking orgasm too. It’s been so hard.” The final words came with a hiccup and belch.
“Time for you to get back to bed.”
“Wait man, wait, wait. What about you and Mercy? Did you even get anywhere with her?”
“We signed a contract.”
He stared at him, blinking rapidly as he tried to focus. “A contract?” he whispered all amazed. “Woooooow man that’s…” his gaze narrowed. “What…what the fuck for again?”
Sade shook his head. “I’ll tell you tomorrow when you can think straight.”
He tried to snap to attention which amounted to swift sways and leanings. “I’m up man,” he said with his eyes half closed. He patted Sade on the chest. “I’m here for you. You know that right? You’re my bro, my hero.”
“Okay, that’s all for you.”
“Waaaaait, I just wanna tell you somethin’, hold on.” He grabbed a fist full of Sade’s shirt and looked up, his eyes blinking into focus. “Listen. Listen to me, okay? Listen.”
“I’m listening.”
He nodded then. “You’re like… a father to me. Only…fucking two years older.” He snickered lowly, putting his forehead on Sade’s chest before jerking it slowly back up. “But I can still kick your ass!” He tried to grab Sade’s face between his hands, his fingers nearly gouging his eyes. “I love you man,” he gasped. “You know that right?”
“I know that.” Sade removed his hands, not knowing where the fuck they’d been.
“You gotta know that. S’important you know.”
“Let’s get you to bed.”
He suddenly looked around like he was lost. “Shit…”
“What?”
He looked at Sade confused. “How’d I get in here?”
“On your planter.”
His face screwed up for a second then he busted out laughing. “Ohhhh my fucking God!” he squealed. “Don’t tell Liberty I knocked that plant over. I didn’t mean it.”
“I’ll tell her a rat did it.”
“Yesssss.” Sade limped his way to the other side of him when he turned to get off the stool. “A fucking rat.” His silent laughter snorted out. “That would be a big ass rat, right?”
“Yes indeed,” Sade said. “How about you get on my back and let me walk you back to your room.”
“Awwwwwwww maaaaan, that would be so much faster. The plant-mobile is deceptively impoooosible to steer!” He busted out in silent snickers again. “Took for-eeeeever to get to the kitchen, I was like a pinball bouncing off everything I touched and I fucking touched eeeeeverything.”
“Jump up man, can you?”
“Yeah man, I can jump. Maybe I should get back on the stool. Fuck I need to peeee!” he squealed.
“You’ll have to wait now hurry.”
“K man, I’m on the stool, now what.”
Sade backed up. “Grab hold of my shoulders and wrap your legs around me.”
“Roger that!” He worked his way onto Sade’s back finally.
“Hold the fuck on now.”
“Dude, don’t make me laugh or I’m going down.”
Sade got the crutches under his arms and made his way carefully with his embarrassing load.
“These are the days man, these right here, you know?”
“Yep,” Sade said, out of breath in ten feet.
“So you signed a contract with Mercy,” he whispered loudly in his ear.
“Shh, private man.”
“Ohhhhh right, shhhhh. Got you.”
Sade opened Bo’s door and navigated around the mess, turning carefully and sitting on the bed with him.
“Thanks man,” he whispered, flopping onto his back. “You’re the best. I love you man,” he said in a tiny voice that tugged at Sade even though he was drunk. He knew he meant it.
Sade stood and helped move his legs onto the bed, amazed that he was already out and snoring lightly.
He checked on Mercy again, unable to resist going to her bed to make sure she was okay. He stared down at her in the dark, wanting so much to stroke his fingers along her skin.
He turned to go.
“Hey,” she said, disoriented. “What’s wrong?”
He turned back around. “I was up helping Bo get snacks and just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
She was quiet a bit. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do you need anything?” Part of him silently begged for her to need him to lay with her.
“I’m okay. Thanks for asking. You?”
His breath froze in his chest at the surprising question. “Nah, I’m good.” He was sure that was the biggest lie he’d ever told in his entire life.
“Okay. Night.”
“Night.”
The soft sound of her voice, without the fear, wow. He didn’t realize how fucking bad he needed to hear it. Missed it. Craved it.
He finally foun
d his way back to sleep after tossing and turning, contemplating tomorrow night when he’d have thirty minutes to do whatever he wanted with her.
Just the idea soothed him. Soothed him right to sleep.
****
Sade stared at the box before him on the table and eyed Liberty. “I found it in one of the closets.”
“What is it?”
She pulled out items until his heart began to hammer. “This is Mercy’s stuff?”
“Looks like it. Memories,” she whispered. “Thought you could use the ammunition.”
He gasped and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Yeah. Definitely.” He touched the ballet slippers, his heart hammering. “She lived here you think?”
“Not sure. Maybe came once or twice but she certainly doesn’t remember if she has. This stuff could’ve just been stored here.”
“Right.” He pulled out a small teddy bear. “Wow,” he whispered, stroking it. He pulled out a book and realized it was a scrap journal of all her milestones. “Holy shit,” he breathed, gliding his fingers over the precious memories, feeling like they were the key.
He looked up at Liberty. “I got her to agree to let me help with her memories.”
Liberty quirked her brow.
“We signed a contract.” Hope brought a smile to his lips that he couldn’t resist.
“A contract, huh? You might need it. Just don’t get too kinky on me,” she eyed him. “I’ll bring that to your room. Don’t want her seeing it before it’s time. Better get your game on.”
He nodded, closing his eyes in relief. “I got my game on.” But this changed things. Gave him so much more. Even gave him ideas to follow with. Keep the memories coming.
Chapter Seventeen
Mercy made her way to the rendezvous at 8:58. Not too eager, not too careless, not too exact. That was what she was going for. She knocked on the door and looked around. She’d dressed in layers of clothes in case he planned to get physical. He’d have to work at it. She’d resorted to praying about what to do in her first thirty minutes. Lo and behold she still had no fucking clue!
“Come in,” a voice said.
Shit, he was there already. She glanced around once more and opened the door.
“Lock it please.” It was pitch black inside.
“Can I turn on the light?”
“Sure.”
She felt along the wall and hit the switch then jerked her head a little right, at finding him in a towel.
“I just worked out and showered.”
“Okay.” She sat on the nearest edge of the long bench opposite from where he was. “So…” she began. “Me first.”
“Yes.” He looked at the clock on the right wall. “Thirty minutes and counting down.”
She took a deep breath and jumped right in. “So… I’d like to know what you did that made me tie you up.”
He stared hard at her, his back against the wall, one leg hanging off the bench the other stretched out. He locked his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. “Tried to kill myself.”
Her breath froze in her chest as she sat there stunned. That was not the answer he was supposed to give, it was supposed to be something bad. She realized in that second that she’d planned on using anger for her resolve to… be able to even do this without getting too caught up in the wrong emotions. And now this. This non-anger producing answer. This heart-wrenching answer. “But… why would I tie you up for that?”
“I threatened to do it again and succeed.”
Shit. She swallowed, trying to think. “Why?”
He shrugged, leaning his head back with closed eyes. “Don’t really know.”
“Any theories?”
“Nope.”
She chewed her lip, staring at him. “If you’re not going to be forthcoming with me in this…”
“Why do people try to kill themselves, Angel? They want to die.”
“Why would you want to if I was… I mean I thought you…”
“Not at that time. Not yet.”
“How long did you stay tied?”
“Until I convinced you to untie me. Maybe three days.”
She thought about what else she needed to know, eyeing the clock. Twenty-five minutes left. “So I untied you and you were… okay?”
He let his head flop toward her. “Then I tied you up.”
Her heart hammered with that news. “That wasn’t… “
“In the journal, I know. I didn’t put that.”
She gasped now. “So all that stuff you did… I was…”
“Tied up, yes.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“Yep.”
“That’s like raping. No wonder I’m scared around you. What about that last thing you wrote, was I…”
“No. You were free. And you begged for that one, remember?”
She did remember reading that, but she wasn’t sure. She needed to understand why he’d want to die though. “Tell me why you blame yourself for your mother’s death?”
Head down, his gaze slowly rolled up to hers. “Who told you that?”
Oh crap.
“Bo’s got a big mouth, little shit.”
“Don’t blame him, he was just trying to help me understand.”
“Understand what?”
“It was when I first woke up and asked how we met. He told me about the alley and the beating. He added his theory as to why you did that when I asked him.”
“I like pain,” he said, his words firm. He looked up at the clock then back at her. “I like giving it and receiving it.”
“Do you know why?”
“That I like it?”
“Yes.”
“I learned to like it.”
“From what?”
“From being forced to have orgasms, being beat when I didn’t cooperate.”
Oh Jesus. “And… what was I trying to undo? How was I doing it?”
“You were trying to make me get off to sex without pain.”
“Did I… manage?”
“Yes. Until I fell in love with you. Then it all stopped.”
Her heart thundered at his love confession. So bold and firm. “What stopped?”
“My dick stopped. Refused to work.”
“Because you loved me?”
“Your theory was my body didn’t know how to be aroused without pain and the love element derailed my ability to get it hard. No pain in love. I could get it hard but then when I’d think of how much I loved you…” he shook his head slowly. “Dead.”
“And I tried to help with that?”
“Yes.”
“Like what did I do?”
You taught me how to feel.” He rubbed his chest. “All in here. You were trying to help make a connection to my dick.”
Wow. That actually made perfect sense. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride with that.
“Fifteen minutes.”
She rubbed the sweat from her palms along her legs. “And did you… did you learn? At all?”
“A little. I was the little engine that could. Only mostly I couldn’t. But you didn’t seem to mind.”
“I’m sure I didn’t.”
“How are you sure?”
“I… I just don’t see that as something I would be bothered about.”
“You weren’t.”
She nodded. “Good to know.”
“Yet.”
Yet? “What do you mean?”
“Eventually, I’m sure you would be bothered.”
“No,” she said, pretty sure she wouldn’t.
His gaze slowly moved up to the clock then back to her, heat simmering in the depths. Waiting for his turn. She knew she only had around twelve minutes. “Are you scared?” he asked.
“Are you?” The question came without thought.
“Maybe.”
She gripped the edge of the wooden seat. “Of what?”
“Of you.”
“Of me?” The words came on a breathless exhale.
/> “Of what you will do to me.”
“I’m… not doing anything.”
“You will.”
She swallowed, unable to think as her eyes flitted to the clock. Seven minutes. “So… you said… you loved me?”
He cocked his head at her. “More than my own life.”
Her heart hammered again. “Did you… ever… hurt me?”
He lowered his gaze for a long while. “Not on purpose.”
“Shit,” she barely gasped. “Like…”
“Like the sexorcism,” he helped.
“You said… you said I started that. Wanted it. Begged for it.”
“You did.”
“So…”
“So it doesn’t make it right. Nothing will ever make it right to hurt you. Not you.”
She stared at him, holding her breath as the seconds ticked. She was drawing a blank now. She eyed the clock. Four minutes. “I’m done. You can go.”
He turned on the bench so that both legs draped over the edge, palms next to him. He stared at her what felt like five minutes. Long enough to make her want to scream what are you looking at what are you thinking—planning! “Do you remember anything at all about us?”
She stared at him then shook her head.
He turned his gaze down, making her feel like a failure.
“I’m trying. Though.” She cleared her throat. “I uh… have been practicing a kind of meditation I remember. Thinking it may help.”
He looked at her again, a look of desperation in the depths of his silver eyes. “That’s good,” he said softly. “I know you’re trying. Don’t worry.”
But she did worry.
Again he stared at her silently.
“Are you… practicing telepathy? Cause… I’m not getting anything.”
He gave a light laugh. “Just like looking at you.”
Her heart hammered and she nodded. “Okay.”
“I’m not sure if I’ve ever told you…” he lowered his head.
“What?”
He leveled those bright eyes on her again. “That you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
Mercy’s stomach flipped around and she couldn’t stop the smile on her lips as she rolled her eyes.
“It’s so true,” he assured.
“You’re not so bad looking yourself.”
“Really?” he acted shocked and she snorted.
“Please, surely you know you’re gorgeous.”