Perfectly Loved

by Lacey Silks

  “No,” I laughed, “but you have feelings for me!” I grasped her wrist and lowered it, away from my face, and tugged her closer to me.

  “Yes, I do. But we can’t…”

  “Oh, yes, we can.” I leaned in to take her lips, but she backed away.

  “We can’t, because I can’t lose you and your family. And I can’t give people like Laurie and Savage another reason to pick on me.”

  “Millie, you just told me you have feelings for me, and you expect me not to do anything about it? Like hell.” I reached out, grasped the back of her head and pressed her mouth to mine. Hard and desperate, I parted her lips and snaked out my tongue to meet hers. She melted in my arms. I swallowed her quiet objections, which slowly turned into moans. Her small hands that had been pushing against my chest now slid higher to my neck, her fingertips dancing along my hairline. I felt myself harden in an instant. This was the moment I’d been waiting for, and I still couldn’t believe it was actually happening. She was soft and smelled like fresh air mixed with some sort of a flower. I hadn’t realized how delicate her body was until she was pressed against me, her curves molding around my muscles like a perfect blanket. Nothing in the world had ever felt better. I wasn’t sure how long we kissed for, but my lips were more sore than my hands from punching Savage. It was one of the best moments of my life, and if I could feel her like this every day, I’d be one happy man.

  When we pulled apart, her lips were swollen and red, and she struggled to catch a full breath. We stared into each other’s eyes. Waiting for that slight lift of approval on her mouth felt like an eternity, but when she smiled, I knew I had her. She and I, we were the real thing.

  “Go to the prom with me?” I didn’t even know where the question came from.

  “Dave, we can’t tell anyone about this.”

  “You’re asking me to sneak around?”

  “Yes.”

  That actually sounded even more enticing.

  “But no sneaking to my room. And we take things slow.”

  I wanted to say that I was all about slow, but that would be a lie because in my mind all I had was the vision of her naked body and me pounding right between her legs.

  “Okay, slow. Got it. How about you set the pace, muffin?”

  “Muffin?”

  I leaned into her ear. “Yes, because all I can think about now is eating you up.”

  “Dave… I’m, well, I may have exaggerated my sexual experiences when I first met you. You know…”

  I looked at her rosy cheeks and smiled. “I knew you were a virgin the moment you blushed when I got a hard-on. And yes, I promise to take it slow. We’ll take it slow.”

  Even if I have to jerk off every day until the day that we are finally together.

  “So, no prom, okay?”

  “Okay, but only if you dance with me in secret.”

  “Deal.” She stepped up on her toes and gave me a quick kiss, and then looked around the room and whispered, “I may be a virgin, but there are some things I’m really looking forward to trying out with you.”

  Holy mother of great gifts! Thank you!

  Chapter 9

  Millie

  “Merry Christmas, Millie,” my new parents said.

  “Merry Christmas,” I replied. It was a standard answer I’d heard others say, but I didn’t know what Christmas day meant until I saw the full table of food, a tree decorated with everything they could find, and presents underneath it.

  I cried because I thought I was dead and had somehow ended up in heaven – because this had to be heaven, right? And a bad kid like me wasn’t supposed to go to heaven, so how had I gotten here?

  “This isn’t real.” I kept shaking my head.

  It took a while for my new family to calm me down. Then, I insisted on taking some of this food to Momma because she would like that a lot. They said that my Momma was getting healthy and she would enjoy some of it soon too. I hoped my little brother was having a good Christmas as well. He was only eight months old, and I hoped that his family also had a table full of food. I hoped his stomach didn’t hurt like mine used to.

  The next day a lady knocked on the door.

  “Millie, it’s time for you to go home.”

  I had thought this was my home, but apparently, it wasn’t. They would take me back to my Momma, where I belonged. I always hoped that we’d go back to our first home, but we never did. When Momma took me back that time, I found out that Casper was gone too. My Christmas had begun happy and ended sad. At least I had Timothy. We were a family again.

  Present time

  By the time I pulled up to the house, it was dark outside. On the way there, at one point I’d made four turns to the right, then four turns to the left, just to make sure that no one was following me. It was a trick Dave had taught me a while back. After seeing Mark Savage so close to my house, it was better to be cautious.

  I turned off the ignition, but left the car headlights on. They beamed right at the house in front of me. Out here, in the middle of nowhere, the night was pitch black. With an overcast sky and no stars or moon to illuminate the shack, this place felt eerie. At least an hour must have passed before I finally decided to turn off the headlights and conserve the batteries in my old car. I’d probably pushed it to its limits anyway. This way, in the darkness, at least I was as invisible as everything else around me. I double-checked the locks and pushed the seat back as far as I could before climbing into the sleeping bag I had brought. I left a half-finger-wide wedge in the window to let fresh air through. Thank goodness mosquito season had ended a month ago. I pulled the zipper all the way up, tilted the seat back, and stretched my legs out. This would have to do for the night.

  It took me a while to fall asleep, but the fresh air did something to my lungs and my mind. It was like a natural sedative. I’d never had problems sleeping outside. Inside, especially when nightmares haunted me, yes. But not outdoors. Maybe it was because I trusted the natural world much more than I did the human species. Animals had no ulterior motives, just instincts; humans, on the other hand — well they could be beasts.

  That was how I spent my first night: sleeping in my car, on a strange yet familiar field.

  I woke up with the first light of the day. A thin fog hovered over the fields and spread up along the mountainsides. Birds chirped, bugs buzzed, and trees swayed to the wind’s rhythm. It was cold, but definitely warmer than a late November day should have been. I peeled the sleeping bag off me, opened the door, and stretched outside. The peaceful atmosphere was exactly the remedy I needed. It was a sin that no one else could enjoy it. Getting away from the city and avoiding what I knew was waiting for me there was the best idea ever. And that’s when I felt my bladder squeeze.

  Shoot.

  Well, when nature calls, do as nature does. I lowered my pants and squatted next to the wheel, looking around instinctively to check if someone would see me. The stream fizzed and steamed in the cool air, but it felt good to relieve that pressure.

  Note to self: take toilet paper next time.

  I looked around the field again before wiggling my ass a little to shake the drips off.

  Second note to self: designate one washroom spot so I don’t step in my own pee.

  Or worse. I chuckled.

  I popped open a water bottle, washed my hands and brushed my teeth, and bit into one of the dozen granola bars I’d brought with me. I could have used some caffeine, though. A nice organic blend of Colombian coffee. I closed my eyes and could almost smell it. I wasn’t sure how in the world I’d lived without coffee before the Mayers family adopted me.

  Looking at the shack in front of me, I felt drawn to go inside and explore. But when a stronger gust of wind blew, whistling between the open windows, and I heard something fall inside, I jumped back in the car like the little mouse that I felt I was. While my urge to investigate hadn’t eased, and I was brave enough to take on Goliath, I wasn’t crazy.

  “If anyone’s in there, you’d better
leave because I’m coming back with a rifle. And a bunch of knives. And maybe some grenades,” I called out through my car window, before turning on the ignition.

  Instead of taking on the haunted house, I decided to drive to the local mart and get some coffee, food, and supplies. If I were going to stay there, I’d need to prepare.

  Feeling excitement bubble inside me, I searched the isles. A broom and a mop caught my attention.

  What if I cleaned the place up? Wait… I didn’t even know who it belonged to. And what if they decided to come back in the middle of the night — with a hatchet and a scythe?

  I might not have been the sharpest tool in the box, but I knew how to find information when needed. Once my car was full of groceries and cleaning supplies, you know, just in case I had to bring an old house up to livable standards or something, I headed for the library. I clicked away at the computer, searching through a digital map, but each time I pointed to the field which would allow me to find the owner’s name, the page flashed back to the previous screen.

  “Excuse me, is there something wrong with the system?” I asked the librarian. “I’m trying to find a property owner, and it keeps coming up blank.”

  “That’s probably because the property had been passed on for generations, and the title never changed.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that whoever owns it has had it for a long time. The records are probably on paper.”

  “Where do I find those?”

  “In the archives section. Come with me – I’ll show you.” I followed the stereotypical librarian with glasses and a long flowing skirt as she led me to a corner of the library and pulled out a thick book. I handed her the address on a piece of paper. She flipped through the yellowed pages, finally stopped, and then drew her finger down to the line with the house number.

  “Well, what do you know…”

  “What?”

  “We have an owner. Tim and Beatrice Bowers.”

  It couldn’t be. Why wouldn’t Mrs. Bowers have mentioned it before? Was it possible that in her old age she’d forgotten about the property? What if the Bowers had planned to leave it to their daughter, and then decided not to when the girl tried to kill them? And now she was gone, and the land was unused.

  Feeling like Sherlock Holmes, I smiled and thanked the librarian. Now that I knew the house belonged to Mrs. Bowers, I felt much more comfortable going inside and making myself at home.

  I should surprise her.

  I decided to clean up the house, and then visit her on Thanksgiving and take her there to show her the progress. Hopefully she wouldn’t have a heart attack and die on me.

  Just as I got back inside my car, my phone rang. Shit! I forgot to call Dave.

  “Hey, where are you?” he asked. “You were supposed to call me last night. Didn’t you see the messages I left? April said you took the week off.”

  “Dave, I’m fine. You don’t need to worry. I just needed some time away.”

  “If it’s because of him, the restraining order’s been placed.”

  “Like that would stop him,” I said under my breath, admitting just how much Savage scared me to Dave. But he already knew that.

  In my heart, I knew that nothing would stop Mark Savage from getting to me again. He had promised, and I knew he wouldn’t break that. No restraining order would ever stop him.

  “Millie…”

  “Dave, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Trust me when I tell you that I’m in a place where no one will ever find me.”

  “You didn’t fly to the moon, did you?”

  I laughed. “I wish. Listen, I just need a few days to myself before I deal with him, okay?”

  “And how exactly are you planning on dealing with him?” he asked.

  I looked at the passenger seat where the little brown bag was resting. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that.”

  “Dave, I gotta go. Too much to do and too little time.”

  “Millie, what are you up to?”

  “Moi?”

  “Where are you?”

  “Dave, I’m fine. I promise. You should be more worried about Gwen chopping your balls off when she finds out we’re talking.”

  “Again, I’m sorry you heard all that, babe. She’s just…”

  “Jealous? Insecure? Two-faced?”

  “Can you blame her? You’re a beautiful woman.”

  I sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m not planning on stealing you from her.”

  “That does nothing to ease my concerns for you.”

  “I gotta go, Dave.”

  “Check in with me.”

  “Will do, Officer Mayers.”

  Why had I just said that? I should have known those words would only cause him to go back to the memories of how we’d role-played cop and criminal.

  We hung up, and I felt my nipples bunch up. “Stay down,” I ordered. “There’s no time for hanky-panky.”

  I drove back to the blue house. It still looked too spooky to enter, but armed with an oversized broom, I pushed the door open.

  “Who died in here?” I could taste the stench in my mouth. I pried the front door with one of the brooms and got to work. Soon enough, sweat was dripping down my forehead, my back, ass, and between my boobs. I started from the top and wiped every ounce of dust off the shelves, built-in cabinets, and light fixtures. I covered my face with a bandana, but that didn’t stop me from sneezing over and over again. The place was looking better every minute, but I was afraid I’d need way more time than I had to bring it up to habitable standards. Maybe once I was done, Mrs. Bowers could sell it to help with the medical bills? I was afraid that was the real reason why she didn’t visit her doctor.

  The few pieces of furniture left in the house – a wooden table with two chairs, one of which wobbled from side to side; a dusty cabinet in the dining room; and the remnants of an old metal bed frame – were either rusting, in need of paint, or waiting for the day someone disposed of them at the dump.

  Getting lost in the cleaning was the best remedy for me now. I had five days left until Thanksgiving. At this rate, I could surprise her with the news of an almost-clean house she could use as a rental or sell. If Dave and Justin could paint it, it would be even more eye-catching.

  If this property was connected to Mrs. Bowers, the way I’d seen on the map, then there had to be a stream running through the property as well. I thought I’d heard it at night, but with the leaves ruffling and wind whistling between the trees, it was difficult to make sense of all the sounds.

  By the time evening set, I was tired and dirty. I turned on the faucet. After a minute of yellowish liquid and a sulfurous smell, crystal-clean water poured out of the tap.

  “Well, what do you know? We’ve got water.”

  It was cold – nearly freezing, actually – but it would have to do. Since I hadn’t gotten to cleaning the bathroom yet, I jumped into the tub in my flips flops and quickly washed myself under the stream, making a note to have a look at the heating tomorrow.

  “Cold, cold, cold!”

  I’d been in worse circumstances in some of the foster homes I used to live in, so this wasn’t that bad. At least there was no one who’d scream at me just because they’d had a bad day, no one who’d touch me inappropriately because they were perverted, and no one to make me do chores because their asses were too lazy to pick up after themselves. I didn’t mind cleaning; in fact, there wasn’t a task I’d ever found impossible, but I wasn’t a slave.

  Maybe that’s why I preferred to be on my own so much. Perhaps life had forced me to depend on no one else but myself, because people sucked. Well, most of them did. Being on my own, I couldn’t hurt anyone, and no one could hurt me back. Yet I missed talking to April. And Dave as well— a lot more than I’d ever admit to him.

  I quickly dried myself with the one towel I brought and got dressed. My greasy hair would have to wait for a wash until I got s
ome warm water. There was no way I wanted to get sick. Not brave enough to turn on the gas stove tonight, because I didn’t want to blow the place up, I opened a can of soup and ate it cold, and then went back to my car to sleep. I wasn’t afraid to be alone in the house, even a haunted one, but without a mattress, I’d have to sleep on the floor. And I had no intention of sleeping with the mice. They were here; I’d swept enough of their black poop evidence earlier in the day.

  Feeling my muscles ache, I leaned back in the seat. A sense of accomplishment passed through me, and for the first time in a long time, I felt happy and strong and like I could actually do something consequential for Mrs. Bowers. Hopefully she could make use of this place.

  When the first stream of light hit my face, I gasped. It felt like I’d closed my eyes only a moment ago. The fresh air and all the work had definitely gotten to my head. I grabbed a muffin and drank straight from the carton of milk in my cooler before going to the third pine on the right. As I emptied my bladder, I saw the log and two remaining cans propped up.

  “Time for some practice,” I said to myself, and ran back to the car to get my gun out of the paper bag. It wasn’t illegal. Dave would have a fit if he found out that I had a gun and even a bigger fit if it wasn’t registered. Seeing how my aim had lacked any sort of accuracy the last time we were here, it was a good idea to practice — you know, just in case a bear showed up. Although honestly, I was more afraid of a specific human than any animal in the world.

  I covered my ears with the sound-muffs I’d kept with the gun and shot. Once, twice… Heck, I should have stopped counting at that point, but after a few rounds, I finally hit my first target, then my second. I wondered if Dave would be proud. Just as I was thinking about him, I got a call.

  “Hi, Dave.”

  “Millie, are you done with your alone time?” he asked.

  “Not really. In fact, I’m enjoying myself.”

  I heard a growl on the other end of the phone and shut my eyes tight. I shouldn’t have said that because according to Dave, when Millie enjoyed herself, it meant self-pleasure – and a hard-on for Dave.