by Shade, S. M.
Once I make it through the crowd and across the next street—ignoring the driver who honks at me for crossing against the light—there’s no sign of him. Turning in a complete circle, I scan the area. “Damn it.” The frustration is enough to bring tears to my eyes.
“Get your ass back here.”
His voice comes from right behind me, and he chuckles at my yelp of surprise. He isn’t standing behind me like I expect when I turn around. Instead, I’m met with a line of tall bushes planted along the wall of a thrift store. What the hell?
“Now, Darcy.”
He’s behind the bushes. They’re too thick for me to see him or get to him this way. My heart pounds as I run the few steps to the edge of the building and look behind them. Halfway down the building, he stands, leaning against the brick wall. He doesn’t say a word when I run into the narrow space. Branches reach out to draw scratches on my arms and legs, but it barely registers.
My face slams into his chest when I throw myself at him, hugging him tight and breathing in the scent of him. He’s really here. He doesn’t respond by hugging me back, and when I take a step backward, I’m struck by the harsh way he regards me. His anger hits me like needles.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out. He doesn’t brush my hand away when I slide it behind his neck, but he still doesn’t touch me. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you. I know you didn’t hurt Dax. I never should’ve doubted you. It won’t happen again.”
He raises his hand to swipe a tear off of my cheek with his finger, his eyes burning into mine. Seconds feel like minutes until he replies, “You showed yourself to another man. Spread your legs where he could see your pussy.”
His words stun me, and for a second I have no idea what he’s talking about. Then it hits me. The meter reader.
“I didn’t mean to! I didn’t know he was there.”
He reaches under my skirt and grabs me between my legs. His face remains impassive, but fury lives in his tone as he squeezes, making me gasp. “He saw what’s mine. Did you like that?”
“No! I was out there for you. You left and I—”
His other hand travels around to grab my ponytail and tugs it down, making my head tilt up. God, those eyes. They’ve gone the deep green of a midnight forest.
“Oh Darcy, you thought you could lure me in, didn’t you? I think you need a reminder you aren’t the one in control here.”
The hands holding me by both ends make that crystal clear. He’s more in control of me than I’d ever want to admit. The last two days have been miserable, and he’s been my only obsessive thought. “I wanted to see you, to apologize for not believing you. I’m sorry. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”
His laugh is wicked, and his grin even more so. He releases his grip between my legs and brings the hand to my shoulder. “Show me how sorry you are. Show me who you belong to.” Pressure on my shoulder is accompanied by a pull of my hair, urging me onto my knees.
We can’t be seen unless someone looks right between the building and the bushes, but we’re only a few feet away from the pedestrians on the sidewalk. Am I really going to get down on my knees in the dirt and blow him?
Fuck yes, I am.
Because I am his. The ground is cool on my bare legs when I kneel in front of him. His hand stays on the back of my head while I unfasten his dark jeans and pull them down until his cock is free. Already hard, it grows larger still when I wrap my hand around the smooth skin and stroke him. My tongue wets my lips as I admire what’s in front of me.
Despite where we are, or that I’ve just left Amelia waiting for me, I want to take my time with him. He’s too perfect for me to rush. His hips give a subtle jerk when I lick around the head, and I look up at him.
He’s in control, huh? Let’s just see. For every gentle suck, I spend twice as long licking and teasing. Working that sweet spot under the head that makes his whole body tense no matter how hard he tries to hide it.
If he thinks this is some kind of punishment or penance, then he doesn’t know me as well as he thinks he does. With an occasional voice and footsteps passing behind us, his hand pulling my hair, and his hard cock between my lips, I’ve never been so turned on. Embarrassment was all I felt when the meter guy saw me, but this is different.
The possibility that someone might catch us, might see me making this beautiful, fierce man bite back moans and groans, is fucking hot. His frustration at my slow teasing pace erupts, and he grabs my chin, making me look up at him.
“Open your mouth,” he growls, and I obey. He grabs my head and slides his cock back to my throat. It’s a good thing my gag reflex is nearly nonexistent.
When I take him all the way to the back, he nods. “That’s right. I’m going to fuck your mouth, and you’re going to swallow.”
When he backs out a little, I grab his hips and pull him in, sucking him deep while I relax my throat. It’s my last bid for control, but with him, I’ll never win. He fists my hair just behind my ears on both sides of my head and does exactly what he said he would.
There’s no time to lick or suck when he’s thrusting into my mouth. All I can do is take him. The noises that escape him make every second worth it. His thrusts become staggered, and I know he’s close. “Fuck, yes, Darcy,” he groans. His hands hold my head tight as he comes down my throat.
The sting of my scalp when he releases me is satisfying. He pulls up his jeans, fastens them, and helps me to my feet. As soon as I’m standing, he plants a kiss on my lips that’s shocking in its tenderness. “You may not get answers from me, or the ones you want, but I haven’t lied to you. I won’t lie to you.”
“I know. I believe you. Just don’t disappear on me again.”
He smooths my hair that must look like a bird’s nest now. “I had to take care of something.”
“You weren’t punishing me?”
“I told you, I only punish those who deserve it.” His smile tamps out the flame of anxiety that’s burned for days. “I have to go. I’ll see you later.”
This time I don’t doubt he’ll return. He never lies to me.
For a good minute after he leaves, I try to neaten my hair and brush as much dirt from my legs as I can. My knees are the worst, but there’s no help for it. No one seems to notice when I emerge from the bushes and start back toward the restaurant. It seems like I’ve been gone a long time because so much happened so fast, but it’s barely been ten minutes.
Amelia’s gaze sweeps over me when I walk back to our table. “What happened? Are you okay?”
My throat’s sore and will probably have a hell of a bruise, but that’s not information I plan to share. “I’m fine. I’m sorry I took off so quickly. I saw a friend I’ve been looking for and had to catch up with him.”
Doubt emanates from her, but before she can ask anything else, I interrupt.
“Actually, he’s waiting on me. If you want to go ahead and get the papers out, I’ll sign them. We can wrap this up.”
“Uh, right.” Amelia pulls out the papers and points out the places where I need to sign or initial.
“Okay then, I’ve got to run. Thank you for meeting with me. I’ll be in touch.”
She calls my name when I get a few steps away from the table, and I pause to look back. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look, I don’t know, stressed.”
“Insomnia has been giving me trouble the past few nights. I’m just tired. Thanks, Amelia.”
She nods, and I’m on my way again. Stressed. Well, maybe getting face fucked in some bushes could look like stress. By the time I get to my car I’m laughing at the absurdity of what my life has become.
Chapter Fifteen
Insomnia hasn’t been what’s kept me up, but telling Amelia I’m tired wasn’t a lie. The rest of my day is spent lounging around my house until I crawl into bed before it’s even dark outside. Hours later, I find myself staring at the shifting shadows on my ceiling. Something dragged me from a dream into consciousness. I’m not sure what it was. The h
ouse is still, but goosebumps rise on my arms. Malice permeates the stillness.
The air’s thick with something unrecognizable, but alarming. As if my world is paused on the edge of a lightning strike, a moment away from devastation. My entire body jerks hard enough for my spine to crack audibly when a loud bang comes from outside. Metal against metal.
That came from the shed. I’ve been in this position before. It has to be Reeve again, but something feels different. Wrong.
My hand trembles when I peek out of the window to see the glow of the shed light. The door stands ajar. What do I do? The answer seems clear. Sitting here isn’t going to get me any answers.
A sliver of the moon watches me through the scattering of clouds while I force myself to cross the yard one terrifying step at a time. It’ll be okay. It’s probably just Reeve like it was last time I woke up to noise in the middle of the night. Yeah, when he showed up bathed in someone’s blood. No, I’m sure everything’s fine. The foreboding is just my anxiety rearing its head after a break.
No matter my attempts at reassuring myself, I still hesitate just outside the shed door, filled with the unexplainable sense that the next moment is one I’ll never escape from and it’ll change everything.
How I wish I was wrong.
The wide, terrified eyes that stare into mine when I step through the doorway don’t belong to Reeve.
“Senator Miller.” The words tumble out in a whisper of disbelief.
A gag tied securely around his mouth prevents him from answering, though he tries to shout through it.
“Quiet.” A blow lands on his ear hard enough to slam his head to his shoulder. Reeve’s voice is calm, uninterested even, but his stance is rigid and full of fury. He looms over the senator, who resorts to whimpers instead of muffled shouts.
It takes a few moments for the whole scene to register to my brain. Miller sits in a chair, naked, his hands bound behind him, and feet tied to the chair legs. That blow to the ear isn’t the first, judging by the blood leaking down his temple.
A loud buzzing in my ears prevents me from hearing whatever it is that Reeve says to me, and my field of vision narrows to a tunnel. My body feels light.
“Darcy! Breathe!” Reeve shouts into my face.
A hard, whooping inhale focuses my eyes and restores my hearing, though my heart thumps so loudly I’m sure he can hear it. The first words that surge through my lips seem to be in someone else’s voice. Shrill and deafening. “What are you doing? Reeve!”
His hands squeeze my shoulders, and he keeps his gaze on mine. “You don’t need to be afraid. He can’t hurt you.”
Stunned, I take a step back out of his grasp. “No shit! He’s tied to a fucking chair! What have you done? He’s a senator! We’ll go to prison!”
“No.” Reeve’s calm demeanor is infuriating while I’m doing my best not to have a mental breakdown. “We won’t.”
My words trip over each other on the way out. “I don’t…how did you…why?”
“He tried to hurt you. Put you on the street for years.”
So many questions bang against my skull, but one stands out. “How do you know that?”
My plaintive cry is met with a smile. “I told you, Darcy. I’ve always known you.”
It doesn’t make any sense. None of this makes any sense. “That was years ago. Why did you bring him here now?”
“To make sure he pays.”
There’s no mistaking what he’s planning. His tone clarifies his words. Miller isn’t supposed to leave this tiny metal room alive. “You can’t do this.”
A low chuckle I first heard months ago echoing around me on a dark street fills the small space. “I can do whatever I want.” His hand reaches out to stroke my jaw. Such tenderness shouldn’t exist in someone so hard. “And so can you.”
No. This isn’t right. This is murder. Jerking away, I slam both of my hands into his chest. “No! I’m not like this! I’m not like you!”
I’m spun around, then grabbed from behind. His arm wraps tightly around my waist as he talks into my ear. “Look at him, Darcy.” Though the sight of the doughy, naked body strapped to a chair disgusts me, I obey. “Do you think you were the only one? No, so many who aren’t a fighter like you, who couldn’t get away, had their bodies rented and sold by this man. I know. I’ve watched him. Why should he draw one more breath?”
It’s one of my worst fears, and taps into the guilt I’ve felt over not trying to report him. Of course, there were others. “It’s…wrong.” The small, faltering nature of my words render them weak, useless.
He turns me around and holds my wrists. “That word is meaningless. Stop fighting and accept the truth. Do you think I can’t feel your hatred of him? How hard you’re fighting to keep that violent sliver of yourself contained right now? Stop holding back and embrace everything that you are.”
“You’re insane. Completely mad,” I reply, my voice hushed. It’s easier than letting myself admit how right he is. How much I’d love to see this man bleed out onto the floor.
“Sometimes madness comes as a friend. The world has given you nothing but pain. Why not pass it on to someone who deserves it?” He pauses for a glance at the senator before looking back at me. “Can you look me in the eye and tell me you want me to let this man go?”
Indecision is ripping me apart. A good person would be grappling with the morality of it, whether we have the right to take a life that has ruined many others, but that isn’t my concern. If we let him go, we go to prison. There’s no way we’ll get away with this. It doesn’t matter that Reeve took him. He brought him to my house. I’m involved. Even if I did get out of it, I’d lose Reeve.
It becomes clear in those few moments that Reeve’s right. The ability to hurt or kill lives inside of me. Maybe it lives in all of us, drawn out at some undefined threshold of anger, pain, or desperation. This is it for me. A line drawn through me that I’ve never crossed is demolished by my decision.
“What do we do with the body?”
“I’ll take care of that. He’ll never be found.”
It’s a promise he may not be able to keep. Only time will tell. The memory of us at the railroad bridge returns to me. How crazy I thought it was to jump. The exhilaration of it. If we go down for this, hasn’t he taught me the fall is the best part? This time, it’s easier to step over that edge. “Okay. Get rid of him.”
Reeve nods and walks toward the bound man. Miller has been listening this entire time and while fear glazes his eyes, anger also radiates from him.
“How are you going to do it?” As far as I know, he doesn’t have a gun.
“Ladies choice.” His hand slides into his pocket and reappears with a knife. He gestures to all the tools around us. “Or I could just beat him to death. Maybe he has a preference.”
With that, he stalks over and pulls the gag out of his mouth. He’s just playing with him now, letting him sit in his terror. “Any suggestions?” he asks him.
Miller spits at him, then sneers at me. “Look at you trying to play the victim. People like you always do. But we know the truth, don’t we? You had an abortion just before you were brought to me. Wasn’t like you were some innocent fucking virgin.”
Reeve punches him in the mouth in a smooth movement that only takes a second, but neatly removes two front teeth. Miller spits them out and glares at him. “Fuck you and that whore.”
The edge of Reeve’s lip tucks in. “I could fuck you. Not with my cock, you don’t deserve that.” Sweat drips into Miller’s eyes as he watches him saunter over and pick up a rake. Reeve pretends to examine it. “This might do. If I shove it up there far enough, you’d bleed out eventually.”
All fight drains from him like someone pulled a plug. Miller’s face is stone white. “No, please.”
“Is that what they said? All those young girls who begged not to be violated?” I speak up. “It never worked for them, did it? Why should it work for you?”
He starts sobbing and shaking the c
hair back and forth. “No, no, just let me go. I swear I’ll never tell anyone.”
Reeve looks at me expectantly. Right, he said it was my choice. Part of me wants to see it. Wants him to be torn apart while he screams in a fraction of the agony he’s put others through. Maybe Reeve’s right, and I’m just as violent as him, but I don’t have the stomach for that.
“It’ll take too long. We want to get rid of the body before daylight, right?”
“True.” It’s the only thing he says. A second later his knife slashes cleanly across Miller’s throat. Blood sprays, and Miller’s eyes bulge in terror and disbelief. I’m sure it’s hard for him to believe. People like him think nothing can touch them. That their power and money will forever wrap that cocoon of safety around them. Maybe the world needs people like Reeve, like me, to show that there’s always a price to pay. Some of us just pay it up front.
The sound of him gurgling, choking on the blood that’s now spattered over all of us will no doubt be a common visitor in my nightmares. My stomach turns with nausea, but it doesn’t last. It takes longer for him to die than I expected, but the second his eyes go dull, I know it’s over.
There’s so much blood inside a person. A world of red. That’s something I learned at five years old, but being confronted with it now is different. There’s no panic, no fear. Someone turned my world red a long time ago. I won’t be afraid of it anymore.
Reeve sets the knife down and walks over to me. His steps are slow and cautious, his gaze scrutinizing. He’s trying to gauge my reaction. What would he think if he knew how turned on I am? How strong the urge to fuck him just hit me? It’s not the blood or the grisly scene. It’s what he was willing to do because someone wronged me. That he cares enough to do something like this for me.
I’ve always thought that I over romanticize love because I’ve been deprived of it. The way water looks so much more enticing when you’re thirsty. Sometimes, I’ve wondered if it’s real at all, but now I know. Because I love him.