Torment

by Chloe Fischer

  “Fuck,” she breathed, the word barely carrying as Darien found her center, his strong hands prying her legs further apart to expose her fully.

  To hell with foreplay, she wanted to choke at him, the need to finally feel him inside her the way she’d fantasized about overwhelming her but she didn’t stop him. Not when his thick tongue lapped over her throbbing clit with skill and precision, causing her to squirm beneath him. He made a sound that resembled a laugh, his forearm slipping beneath her waist to hold her in place as he continued to lick at her mercilessly.

  Okay…maybe just a minute of thi—oh my GOD!

  A low mewl fell from her mouth as she gushed against him, sighing with pleasure as she twined her hands against his short-cropped hair and bucked fully upward. Like he had before, he’d brought her to her climax in mere minutes.

  “Come here,” she growled, reaching down to pull him up. Again, their lips crushed and from somewhere, Darien produced a condom and was back between her legs, throbbing her as he moved to enter her but Odette stopped him.

  “No,” she muttered, pulling back to stare at him. “Not like that.”

  He looked confused by her pause but instead of explaining it, she showed him, flipping onto her stomach to let him take her the way she’d played it in her fantasy a hundred times since they’d last been together.

  He grunted, yanking her closer to him, again spreading her wide but before he did what she so desperately demanded, his tongue again found its way between her thighs.

  Odette cried out at the unexpected lap but as she turned to look at him over her shoulder, he had already repositioned himself to enter her with a long, fluid thrust.

  Her breath was stolen, the sheer size of him winding her as her eyes bugged in shock. It took her a second to reclaim her breath but by then, Darien was already pounding into her with long, even pushes, each movement seeming to reach her deeper than the last.

  Odette trembled, her arms giving out as she buried her face into the cool, white sheets, fists closing as his pace increased.

  Low moans escaped his lips, his grip tightening around her waist as he brought himself to the same heights he had already taken her.

  “Come,” he ordered her and Odette had no choice but to obey, whimpering as her body responded to his command, juices spilling over him as Darien’s body seized simultaneously. She closed herself around him and he groaned loudly.

  He released her then, permitting her quivering body to fall harmlessly against the bed, his weight falling on top of her as he did but he didn’t pull out immediately.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and Odette wondered if that was a good “fuck” or bad one.

  Felt pretty good to me, she thought, wriggling slightly to adjust to the new positioning.

  “Fuck indeed,” she replied lightly.

  “That was better than I thought it would be.”

  The smile froze on Odette’s face and she slid out from under him to eye him with disdain.

  “You thought it was going to suck?”

  Darien shrugged, falling onto his back to look at the ceiling.

  “Hot chicks are usually shitty in bed,” he replied. Odette bristled, furious at his response.

  He would know.

  “Well, gee, thanks,” she muttered. “I think.”

  He shot her a glance through the corner of his eye.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She moved to sit up, suddenly feeling stupid that she’d invited him into her room.

  Why? You’re an adult. He’s an adult. You didn’t do anything wrong.

  But it wasn’t guilt that was her concern. It was that she was worried that she had let things get too far between them, that maybe she hadn’t just wanted to have a one-night stand with Darien Fowler.

  Are you out of your mind?

  “I’ll get cleaned up and get out of here,” Darien said suddenly. Odette felt a strong feeling of regret at the words but she didn’t argue. She nodded toward the bathroom and he rose, sauntering toward the other room. As he walked away, she couldn’t help but check out his physique, wondering if she’d ever see him like that again.

  She opened her mouth to ask him again about the interview but as she did, she saw a flash of light on the bedside table. From the bathroom, Odette could hear water running as she slid across the bed to look at Darien’s phone that was lighting up, despite being on silent.

  Warily, she glanced back toward the bathroom but content that she wasn’t about to be discovered, she flipped it over and peered at the screen.

  There were five texts, all from the same name.

  Melody.

  I know you’re done with your game. You need to call me.

  Where the hell are you?

  This is serious Dare! What the hell?

  Fuck. I knew this was going to happen when you got to the big time. You don’t have time for the people you claim you love.

  But it was the last text that truly piqued Odette’s attention the most and made her stomach churn simultaneously.

  You need to come home to Chicago before it’s too late.

  The water stopped running in the bathroom and Odette hastily returned the phone to the nightstand where Darien had left it.

  He sauntered back into the bedroom, wiping his face with a towel as Odette looked at him from against the sheets.

  “So do you have family in Chicago?” she asked bluntly. “Sisters? Brothers? Parents?”

  Darien froze, his face resembling someone who had been punched in the gut.

  “What?”

  “Family. Do you have family back in Chicago?”

  “W-why are you asking me that?” he growled, his defensiveness odd for the question.

  “You still owe me an interview, remember?” she replied, trying to sound lighthearted but inside, her pulse was racing.

  Those texts could have been from an irate sibling. Maybe Melody is his sister.

  But she thought of all the Google searches she’d done on Darien, the nights she’d spent researching him and there had been no Melody. There had been a brother named Jayce but as she thought about it, Odette couldn’t be sure what had become of him.

  “What the hell does my family have to do with my football career?”

  His question was icy and she watched as he grabbed for his clothes, his face twisted in fury.

  Why is he reacting like that?

  She thought about asking him point blank about Melody but she dismissed the idea, knowing that he’d realize she’s looked at his phone.

  “I was thinking about doing the piece on the real you. You know, what made you who you are, maybe talk to your parents—”

  “Everyone’s gone,” he interjected flatly. “There is no family to talk to.”

  Odette blinked, slightly stunned by the revelation.

  “Gone?” she echoed. “Like…”

  She trailed off, waiting for him to add but instead of clarifying, he whirled and glared at her.

  “I have no family in Chicago,” he said coldly. “Stop asking me about them.”

  She didn’t push the issue, sensing a stubborn resolve in him that pressure wouldn’t help.

  Well, Melody lives in Chicago and she wants you to go home, Odette thought grimly, watching him dress without meeting her gaze. A peculiar sense of sickness washed over her as she realized that Darien did, in fact, have someone in Chicago waiting for him. And it was clear it wasn’t his sister.

  He snatched his phone off the bedside table without looking at it but he didn’t look at Odette either.

  “I guess I’ll see you on the bus,” he muttered, spinning around to leave her alone in the room.

  “Will you give me my interview then?” she called out after him but he was already gone, either unhearing or ignoring her question, the door clicked in his wake.

  It was only then that Odette rose from her spot on the bed, her gut churning dangerously.

  Why did she feel like she’d just been a side piece for a married guy
?

  She was glad she’d had the presence of mind to memorize the number attached to Melody’s name.

  There was only one way to find out the truth for sure. She was an investigator by nature, after all. She would find out what Darien was hiding whether he wanted to tell her or not.

  Chapter 12

  Aside from her classes, Odette did her best to avoid being on campus for two reasons. One, she didn’t want to risk running into Darien until she got to the bottom of what she’d learned about his secret life in Chicago.

  The second, and more important reason, was that she didn’t want to see Marcus who had been emailing and calling like a stalker for two straight weeks.

  Halloween had come and gone and Thanksgiving was upon them. Odette attended the necessary games and handed in statistical articles but her head was on a much bigger story, one about the star quarterback and what was going on behind closed doors.

  Of course, she didn’t dare tell Marcus what she was up to. She’d already made enough of a mistake trusting that Darien would come through with that exclusive she’d been promised but, of course, he’d made no effort to seek her out and she wasn’t sure she trusted herself to be alone with him after what had happened in Columbus.

  What you mean, she corrected herself, is that you desperately want a replay of what happened in Ohio and if you’re alone with him again, you’re not sure you can keep it in your pants.

  It had been humiliating knowing that she’d been the other woman, even if it had been unwitting. She was enraged at Darien’s hypocrisy, remembering how he’d warned her about Allister being attached.

  He only told you all that so he could claim you as a notch in his belt.

  Did people even say that anymore? Especially if it had been mutual? She knew she’d wanted it as much as Darien, if not more. Even after it had all gone down, she found it impossible to stop thinking about him. In fact, it was worse now knowing about his prowess and how good he was in bed.

  Just stop it. The best thing you can do is stay the hell away from Darien Fowler and get a story out of him.

  She had written down Melody’s number but for weeks, she’d done nothing with it.

  Well, that’s not entirely true, she reasoned. She had done search after search for Melody in Chicago, a quest that had left her more frustrated than before. She had nothing to go off but a first name that might not even be real and a phone number. It wasn’t as if the State had some great tactical team to use for a reverse search and even if they did, there was no way it would be at Odette’s disposal.

  But that didn’t mean that she was out of options.

  That’s a last resort, she told herself, dismissing the idea again as she hurried back into the house.

  Tempy stopped her even before she could close the door.

  “Are you staying here for Thanksgiving?”

  Odette paused and nodded, confused that her friend would even ask.

  “Don’t I always?” she replied. “Why? Need me to water the plants?”

  “No,” Temperance said slowly. “I thought you might want to come home with me instead of staying here alone.”

  The offer filled her with an unexpected pang of melancholy.

  “Oh I… don’t think so, Tempy but thank you,” she murmured. Temperance’s eyes darkened.

  “You’re having a rough year, Odie. I can see it in your face. You haven’t been sleeping well and you’re stressed out.”

  “It’s senior year,” Odette reminded her lightly. “Everyone looks like shit.”

  “It’s not just that, Odette. There’s a dark cloud hanging over your head, a bad aura.”

  Ah shit. She’s starting with the auras again.

  Odette forced a smile.

  “I’m good,” she promised. “Midterm blues.”

  “Which is why I’m suggesting you come back to Pennsylvania with me. It’s really pretty this time of year in Amish country.”

  Odette smothered a groan. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like to spend Thanksgiving with the Gardeners farm country, but no matter how she envisioned it, it was not pleasant.

  “Maybe next year…” she started to say but Odette cut herself off. There would be no next year. Next year, this era would have ended and she and Temperance would be off to start their adult lives.

  Where will I be? I don’t have any jobs lined up. I’m hanging onto my job at the State by a thread. I have no guarantees.

  A new dread swept through her and suddenly Odette couldn’t breathe.

  “Thanksgiving is about being with family, about counting your blessings,” Temperance said, her words taking on that mothering pitch that reminded Odette so much of her sister.

  “Actually,” Odette countered before she could stop herself. “It celebrates and normalizes the colonization and mass genocide of a once untouched nation which was eventually diseased and slaughtered into submission by Europeans who brought sickness and strife.”

  Temperance glared at her.

  “Really? You’re going to go all Antifa on me?” she demanded and Odette snorted but she stopped herself from going off onto another mini diatribe. After all, Temperance had given her an idea, one that she hadn’t thought of before. Thanksgiving was about family and everyone would likely be with those closest to them this weekend.

  If I really want to find out the truth about Darien, he’s probably going home to Chicago this weekend, despite his claims that there’s no one there. I could follow him and see where this leads.

  It was a brazen idea and one that didn’t necessarily fill Odette with happiness but if there was a story there—and she suspected there was—she needed to find it fast.

  “You’re absolutely right,” Odette said slowly. “I need to be with those important to me.”

  She looked taken aback by Odette’s confession.

  “S-so you’re coming with me?” she asked, confused by the about face.

  “No,” Odette laughed. “But I won’t here either.”

  Genuine happiness lit Temperance’s face as she clapped her hands together.

  “You’re going home to Florida finally!” she cried and Odette laughed loudly at the absurd idea but instead of denying it, she let Temperance believe that was her plan.

  “I’m going to make this weekend count,” she replied enigmatically.

  The GPS tracker she’d found at the spy store had cost more than her portion of rent at the house but Odette didn’t care. It was the only way to ensure she didn’t lose track of Darien when he got to Chicago. She couldn’t very well follow behind him the entire way. Placing the tracker on his car was much easier than she had expected, knowing where to find his house.

  On Thursday morning, he was on the move and Odette was an hour behind him, watching the signal with almost paranoid detail.

  It took her two hours to realize that she wasn’t going to lose him, that the device she’d bought was worth the five hundred bucks she’d spent and she relaxed as she continued to drive through Indiana, along the southern tip of Lake Michigan where the temperature dropped suddenly and snow began to fly.

  Odette didn’t mind. Despite being reared in a warmer climate, she knew how to handle herself in the snow after three and a half years of living in Lansing. She almost dreaded the idea of returning home to where the snow never fell.

  With her Bluetooth synched, she slowed her speed and admired the snow beginning to pelt against the windshield. It was Thanksgiving and she was off playing sleuth to a man she’d barely been able to get out of her mind for two months.

  She rightfully wondered if she was being creepy trailing after him like that, like she was some scorned woman who was looking to catch him in the act.

  If only it was that simple, she thought grimly, noting that Marcus had called again. She might be able to hold off on returning his calls for the weekend, citing Thanksgiving as an excuse but her fortune was going to run thin soon.

  I’ll message him the minute I have something tangible, she vowed bu
t that, of course, banked on her actually finding something she could use. No one would care if Darien Fowler had a wife or girlfriend back home—no one other than Odette. She wasn’t going to out him for being a cheat. If she did that, she would have to write an expose on ninety percent of the football and basketball team. No, cheating wasn’t enough but the fact that Darien had been so defensive, so secretive about her, well, Odette was sure she was onto something.

  And if I’m not, I’m not going to have a job with the State next semester nor am I going to have a reference to use when I apply for jobs after I graduate.

  She shoved the dark thoughts aside, determined to make this trip count as she turned up the Cardi B song that had started to pump through the speakers.

  She would be in Chicago soon and the truth would set her free.

  She had to circle the block four times before finding a spot near where Darien’s pick-up truck was parked. She was at least an hour, if not two, behind him and she had no idea which building he’d entered in the lower middle-class neighborhood. There was nothing she could do but wait and watch.

  And what if he’s here all night and doesn’t come out?

  The snow had stopped and the street was eerily quiet, most people having taken refuge against the cold in the warmth of their buildings for their Thanksgiving meal.

  As the sun disappeared entirely, leaving Odette alone in the Mazda to contemplate her life choices, a strong sense of melancholy seized her for the first time in longer than she could remember.

  She wasn’t there anymore for a moment but instead inside her family’s waterfront mansion in Palm Beach on one of those rare moments when Edward had graced the family with his fleeting presence.

  In her mind’s eye, she could hear Callie yelling that they needed to say grace before eating and Mia waving her away.

  What year was that?

  In her vision, she seemed so young, probably even before she’d started high school but there was an idyllic feel to the memory, one that she didn’t often feel when she thought about her family, particularly her father.