by T. L Smith
“Tell me what scares you,” I say in between breaths. He’s lifting and dropping me so fast I can hardly catch my breath.
He squeezes my ass hard as he answers, “Love… you.” And that’s all he says, I know he won’t say any more. It’s a moment of weakness, and I pulled it free. I will do it again, though.
His shirt now smells of me, and I now smell of him. He holds me to him not letting me down straight away. We’re both trying to contain ourselves and regroup.
“I drank too much.” I laugh on his shoulder.
“You had two glasses. Though, I don’t want you drinking again without me there.”
Nodding my head, he places me down then tucks his cock back in after removing the condom which I didn’t even notice he had, and before I can pull my skirt down, he does it for me. Then he takes my hand pulling me from the bathroom and back to where all the girls are. Walking up to Cherry, Connick leans in and whispers in her ear before he pulls away letting me lean in and give her a one arm cuddle.
“Stay safe, and thanks for coming.”
We walk out to his car, he opens the door for me, then climbs in the driver’s side and starts the car, driving in the direction of his house.
“I have work tomorrow, I need to go home.”
“I have everything you need. I told you… my house, my bed.”
Chapter 21
He cuffs my hands to his bed, cutting my clothes from my body with a knife. It’s sexy, and the air is cool as it hits my skin making me stay as still as possible. From the moment we entered his house his hands couldn’t stay away, and mine couldn’t keep off of him. He was naked before we entered his bedroom, while I still had on my skirt and shirt.
He stands at the end of the bed watching me, his eyes gray as they roam over me. He touches my foot, then the other, and then he grabs them both and pulls them apart. He drops low and kisses a trail up my leg. Just as I think he’s about to reach that place, he stops and does the same with the other leg. After kissing every inch of me, his mouth lands where I need it, lavishing me as he does—a stroke of his tongue for a cry out loud is what I get. Each stroke is so good and a desperate cry leaves my mouth. His hands hold my legs apart as he fucks me with his mouth, making me buck and pull against the cuffs that tie me to his bed. He worships me, and I’ve never been worshiped before by anybody, let alone a man that looks like Connick. He has an element to him that no one else possesses. A darkness to him that attracts me, yet scares me in some ways as well.
He climbs up my body leaving the cuffs on and fucks me. This time, though, it’s slow with each push, lazy and consuming. Some would even call it making love. His hands are gentle even if my wrists feel sore, and his mouth is open, kissing me everywhere but my lips. His body positions and molds to mine.
I love him—alcohol in my system, the devil at our doors, secrets in our closets—I love him. I know I do, I just have to come to terms with that fact. Having not loved anyone for a very long time, this is not something to take lightly, considering he’s just like me.
Does he know?
Does he know how I feel?
Does he feel the same way?
His entry into my life was savage, we collided in a way I didn’t see coming. He is my very own savage collision in every way possible. Even when we finish, and he loosens my wrists kissing the redness, I stare at him wondering if I can see it.
Can you see love?
Or can you only feel it?
I’m afraid he will see mine before I can admit it out loud.
***
He wasn’t lying when he told me not to worry about work clothes. When I wake, I have a brand-new uniform sitting at the end of the bed. The bedroom is empty, and there’s no Connick. Getting up with a slight headache, I quickly use his shower to remove the smell from my skin from the alcohol that consumed me last night.
After getting dressed and walking down the stairs, I see him seated at the table with two plates of breakfast with someone in the kitchen cooking.
“Chef?” I ask in shock.
He looks up to me and nods his head turning back to the paper he’s reading.
Do people still read them?
I haven’t seen anyone read a newspaper in years. Only elderly people waiting at the bus stop.
“Thank you for the clothes… and breakfast.”
Eggs, bacon, pancakes, all sit in front of me. Usually, all I have is a coffee and nothing else, so this will be a rude awakening to my system. We both eat in silence and continue that way even when the chef leaves. Finishing up, I drink my coffee before checking the time. I have Serena’s shift today, so I have to start earlier.
“I want you to move in.” Looking up I see he’s serious.
“No, that’s too soon.”
“You’ll be safer where I can protect you.”
“From what?”
He shakes his head but doesn’t answer me. “I’ll take you to work and pick you up when you finish.”
“You don’t have to do that. Just take me to my car and I’ll be fine.”
Slamming his hands on the table, he closes his eyes. “Stop fighting me on everything, Milanka. I’m taking you. End. Of. Story.” He pushes the seat back with a loud scrape and walks off.
Grabbing my phone, I stand to follow him knowing I have to leave now. He’s waiting at the door holding it open for me. As I walk past him, I feel the tension in the air. He opens my door and drives in silence.
When we reach the bar, I climb out not knowing what to say to him. He drives away as soon as I get out, not saying a word himself.
Von nods to me as I start the set-up. The waitress starts cleaning the tables as Von walks up to me just before we open.
“She tell you?”
“Yeah.”
He scratches his head. “She won’t come back to work. Maybe you can talk to her?”
Shaking my head, I answer him, “No Von. Don’t ask me to come into your problems.”
“Yeah, I know. Fucking women, hey?”
“Von, I am a woman.”
“Yeah, sorry. You aren’t drama like all the others.”
“Thanks… um… I think.”
Walking away, he opens the doors, and our first customer comes in for the day, distracting me from all things Connick and what we even mean.
***
My car is out front of the bar with the keys in an envelope given to me by Von. He isn’t there when I finish work. Driving back, I don’t go to his place. His instructions were clear, he wanted me to stay with him, but here I am going back to mine. Parking my car out front, I step out, and a voice says my name—it’s a voice I know only too well.
My back locks up, my hands freezing on the door, and her voice speaks again. This time more calmly. It’s the first time I’ve heard her say my name since I was ten-years-old.
What does that do to a person?
Do they become so distant from emotions that it’s hard to connect with anyone else?
Turning around, I see she’s dressed in a red and white floral-patterned dress. It’s loose and makes her look her age, not the age she tries to be when she fucks.
Do I address her by her first name now?
I don’t know what to say or even do.
Her hands start moving as she clutches at her dress, noticing the same thing I do when I’m nervous. She can’t have changed, though, it’s impossible. Not after this long, that’s for sure.
“Yes…” is all I manage to say, holding my keys in my hand, squishing them and hurting my fingers.
“Can we talk? Coffee maybe?” She looks down the street to the coffee house I met Connick at, and I instantly shake my head at her. I’m not covering that memory with one of her. Nodding my head to my house, she turns and looks up then smiles softly at me, stepping to the side. Walking past her, I unlock the front door and hold it open for Mom to enter. I hear the click of her heels as she walks in and I close the door.
“It’s nice, Milanka,” she says as she gazes aro
und the small living area. She stands next to my kitchen counter. I don’t move at first, too afraid of her actually being here.
“Coffee?” I ask. She gives me a simple head nod before I start making it. Once it’s done and I pass it to her, I see her watching me.
“You look so much like how I used to.” I can literally do nothing but stare as she speaks again, “He said you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.” Raising an eyebrow in question, she answers my unasked question. “Connick.”
“Are you here because of him?” I ask, but she shakes her head.
“I came to see you. A message actually…” pausing, she places the cup back down, “… he wants you to leave him, to leave Connick, and he will give you the knife so you can destroy it.”
“Knife?” Then I remember my dreams, the one where Derrick takes the knife. “You talk to Derrick?” I ask shocked.
“I work for him, Milanka.”
“You didn’t come to see me at all, did you? You’re just passing on a message?”
All I get is a small smile and a nod. “I didn’t want you. I know… I know… what mother says that to a child, right? It’s the truth, though. You remind me of me. Of where I could have gone right, yet went so wrong. I don’t miss you, Milanka. I’m only here via his request.”
Wow!
Wow!
It’s the only word my mind can comprehend right now.
A knock comes on the door, and it takes me a moment to perceive that someone is actually at my door. Looking up to the woman who gave birth to me but is not my mother. She never raised me, she never looked after me, I had to do all that myself. Turning my back on her, I walk to the door and open it slightly. Connick is there, so I pull the door open the whole way and I see that his eye is black. My hand reaches out to touch it, but his head turns fast, looking behind me.
“What happened?”
“Another time, Milanka,” he says, not answering my question as he looks on to her.
His nostrils flare, and he isn’t impressed. He takes a step through the door, his hands coming to my hip, pushing me into him and slamming the door shut behind him. He looks around the room quickly before his murderous eyes land back on my mother.
“You! What are you doing here?” Anger—that’s the only sound I hear coming out in his voice. She doesn’t answer him straight away, she actually looks down at her nails then back up to him.
“You sold me to him.”
I get stuck looking between the two, my head flicking from one person to the other.
What’s going on here?
Am I the only one who doesn’t know what’s happening around me?
“Leave,” he screams.
She walks past us both, opening the door and with the wave of a hand she slams it shut. I step back from Connick, wanting distance between us yet again, as I look at him and wonder what other secrets he hasn’t told me. I was happy to let him bury some of them, hold them away from me because we all have our secrets, some we don’t want to share and some we do, which I completely understand.
But this?
He owned her.
Is that what he does?
Does he own women?
The better question is… does he own me?
“Do you own me?” He shakes his head with no hesitation. “You own other women?”
I know he doesn’t like questions, but some things I just can’t let go. Some things I have to know, especially if it involves me.
“Yes.” His answer is blunt. I’ve come to know he’s telling the truth by the expression on his face.
“You need to tell me why she was here.” Shaking my head at him.
“I technically don’t have to tell you anything. And actually, I choose not to. Unless you can tell me more truths, I want you to leave.” He didn’t expect those words to leave my mouth because his mouth is open slightly in shock, but then he closes it.
“I’ve told you as much as I can.”
“So have I. The door’s behind you.”
He turns his back to me, opening the door and walking out. As soon as the door shuts, I wonder how this is my life.
My life amounts to the facts that—I’m in love with a man who has more secrets than the devil himself, I was born to a mother who shouldn’t have been a mother, and I have a crazy ex-boyfriend who I can’t seem to escape.
Chapter 22
How did it all happen? Falling in love with a man, to now being alone and feeling ten times worse because I can’t see him. My days have been nothing compared to having him in my life. What a significant part of my world he has become. I never loved Derrick, I knew that from the beginning he was pure lust. Nothing more. Connick, on the other hand, is more, he’s just more.
I’ve tried to work out whether or not he knows my secrets? The ones I didn’t even believe to be true, until a week ago, when my mother came to me to tell me she had the knife.
The dream has been playing over and over again in my head, making it feel even more real, making me wonder what else I could have done, and is my evil as bad as the rest of them?
I didn’t want to be evil. I didn’t want to have an illness. I just wanted to be normal.
Normal. That word seems to be overrated. Those who say that word, are they normal? They don’t live in hell surrounded by demons who claw at actual skin, waiting for that precise moment to jump in.
I remember seeing Alice in Wonderland at school when I was a child, and I often wished I could fall down that same rabbit hole she did. To have someone love you as the Mad Hatter loved her. He cared for her, and that was the love I’d never have. I’ve never been able to watch that movie again. To have that fascination stuck in my head forever and ever would do more harm than good.
Maybe that’s why I am sick. My mind knew it and wanted to escape, and there was only one way to do it.
I’m better now, I have been for a long time. Apart from that one incident in my life, I’m steady. Steady is what I want, and it’s the reason why I never push for more in my life. I’m sure I could have done the whole college thing. I could’ve worked two jobs to put myself through. Again, I chose not to.
I’ve been such a ‘yes girl’ for most of my life, but as of late I’ve learned to say no. A lot of that is to do with Connick, a man who slowly peeled pieces of me away and nestled himself under my skin. It was a slow burn, yet it all happened so fast. I didn’t love him straight away, that’s what the foolish girls do, and I don’t want to be foolish.
Maybe I could run away to Wonderland and leave my heart behind because I don’t really understand how to use it in the sense of the word love. Maybe I’m just as lost as Alice. Lost in this world, lost in love.
Each day as I get out of bed, I’ve been waking up later and later. I think it’s my desire to not wake up at all kicking in. Today is my day off. I hate having the day off because there’s nothing to keep me occupied. I’m not going back to his gym or his restaurant. Basically, I don’t want to go anywhere that I can run into him.
Let’s face it, we would talk, I would swoon, and I would fall straight back into his bed.
Today, I’ve decided to go to the hairdresser’s. I haven’t been to one for what feels like forever. Walking in and sitting down, the lady starts washing my hair and giving me a deep scalp massage. I’m almost asleep again when a voice startles me. Opening my eyes and looking around, I spot Nicole having her blonde hair bleached. The lady washing my hair starts to speak, but I don’t hear a word she’s saying because my eyes and mind are trained on Nicole. She obviously feels my stare because she turns around and her eyes widen in surprise, then she quickly turns away and starts typing furiously on her phone.
Just my luck, the day I decide to leave my house and try to be a normal person, I see the bitch. I’m not a physical person but she brings out the worst in me, just like her boyfriend. Trying to sit up while the lady’s still washing my hair is a bad idea because I get shampoo in my eyes, making them sting. She apologizes profoundly, and
I feel bad for her because it was totally my fault.
“I’m sorry, but I need to leave,” I tell her apologizing.
She asks if she can rinse my hair out first, and I tell her yes. Once she has me in a position where I’m ready to leave, I hand her a big tip. As I walk out the door, I spot him, and he also spots me. In his hand is a bouquet of lilies. How on earth could he have purchased one so fast? He speaks my name, and I try to block him out while attempting to walk away in the other direction. Derrick says my name louder a second time, and people start looking. I stop, turn around and wait for him to reach me. My hands are clenched at my sides, my nails slowly digging into my palms. He smiles that awful smile at me, and I want to run the other way and never look back. But I know he’ll just keep on chasing me.
How does he even know where to find me all the time? Although, this time, I guess the answer to that question is easy, just like her—Nicole.
“Mil,” he says my name like we’re lovers, but we’re anything but.
“What do you want, Derrick?” I have to know so I can get as far away from him as possible. The flowers drop down to his side, he reaches a hand out to touch my cheek and I step back, not wanting his hands on me at all. He clucks his tongue when I do so.
“You got my message?” I just stare at him and don’t answer. I find it's best to not feed the dogs and Derrick is a dog I can’t get rid of. “Has he told you who he is?” Again, I don’t answer him. What’s the point, he’ll never give me a straight answer anyway. He’s just fishing, waiting to reel me in. “I’ll give it back to you… the knife, Mil. If you agree to meet me back where you left me.”
My head answers by shaking no, but my mind is screaming yes. He has something, something that could put me behind bars for the rest of my life. It’s not something I want in his hands, even if he has had it for all this time. He’s been waiting for the right opportunity to use it against me, that’s just how Derrick works. You wouldn’t think he was smart just by looking at him. Actually, he has the ‘preppy boy, know-it-all’ look down pat, but clearly, he’s used his looks to get where he is. I’ve been told his father is exactly the same, bullheaded.