Perfectly Loved

by Lacey Silks

“How do you know?”

  “It’s what April said. Just give it some time. Or knock her up the first chance you get and she’ll be yours.” He winked. And just as fast, my opinion of him reverted to its original state.

  Was that what he’d done to April? Knocked her up so that she’d stay with him? I wouldn’t have put it past him.

  I didn’t remember anything from the church ceremony; well, almost nothing. Only the part where I stood beside Millie when the priest poured holy water over Parker’s head. It was the closest we’d been together since she’d left that morning. The heat of Millie’s arm, a hair’s breadth away from mine, reminded me of when our bodies were connected that night, and naturally, my mind flew to places it shouldn’t have at church. And her scent — it nearly knocked me to the ground. April nudged me in the ribs with her elbow several times so that I’d pay attention. When I knelt down in the pew, I prayed that one day Parker would forgive me for all the dirty and inappropriate thoughts I had during his christening, and I promised that I’d spoil him rotten every day of his life.

  And the dude she was with, Brandon or Brian, kept looking at her like he wanted to fuck her right there in the church aisle.

  Over my dead body!

  When we returned home, Simon offered me another drink, which I took and appreciated. It somewhat dulled the pain in my chest. This couldn’t be the end. I’d be a wuss if I didn’t try to win Millie back, especially since she was here. God knew when I’d be able to see her again. She’d changed her work hours; in fact, she was still working from home most of the time.

  I sat at the dinner table across from Millie, and remembered the move she used to pull when we were younger. I removed my shoe and reached out with my foot, touching her leg. She startled and jumped up, dropping her spoon into her soup, which spilled on her white blouse, soaking her.

  “Millie, are you all right, honey?” my father asked.

  “Yes, I’m so sorry. I just… I don’t know what happened.” She threw me a dirty look in between her words. I couldn’t help but smile. It was the first eye contact we’d had in three months, so that was definitely worth it.

  “You can borrow my shirt. Upstairs closet.” My sister pointed to the staircase.

  As soon as Millie disappeared upstairs, I excused myself to go to the bathroom. Everyone at that table probably knew exactly where I was heading — everyone except Brian — and I bet they wouldn’t say a word. I didn’t bother knocking on the bathroom door and walked right in.

  She was half-naked, her dirty shirt and soaked bra in the bathroom sink. She didn’t get a chance to put on a fresh shirt, and her hands flew to her tiny breasts and pretty pink nipples, but not before I had a good look at them. My pulse rushed and my blood drained south. It didn’t take long for Millie to focus below my belt, and so I took a step toward her.

  She reached one of her hands out, blocking me, but revealing one of her breasts at the same time, which only made me harder.

  “What the hell are you doing here? You promised we wouldn’t do this today.”

  “Well, you promised to kiss me in the morning, and then you were gone.”

  “I’m sorry it didn’t work out.”

  ‘I’m sorry it didn’t work out’? Seriously?

  “You’re going to have to do much better than that, baby.” I reached out and cupped her free breast. “Jesus, how much I’ve missed you.”

  “Dave, you need to stop.” But her words didn’t match the need that flowed from her voice. She began panting the moment she looked down to my crotch.

  “No fucking way, baby. You’re going to have to scream for me to stop.”

  My hands were already up her skirt, searching for that wet apex that was waiting for my fingers to stretch her. I lifted her onto the counter and seized her mouth before she got a chance to object. Her firm lips didn’t let my tongue through, which made me that much keener to force them apart. She gripped the counter, leaning back the more I pressed into her, trying to get away, except she had no escape route. When I finally reached her soaked panties, her mouth opened for me, and I knew that I had her. She lowered my zipper and reached inside my pants, freeing my erection. The familiar feeling of her hands on me was the best I could have had. Within seconds, I was inside her, holding onto her hips and pounding hard. We were both looking down at the spot where we connected, watching me slide in and out. I wished I could have undone my pants more, so that my balls could be freed, but there was no time. I was afraid that if I stopped now, she’d never let me continue.

  Her small gasps were driving me insane, and while I wanted to take her mouth again, I couldn’t tear my gaze away from the wetness that was being left on my cock as I left her pussy. More squished with each plunge. I drew my finger over her clit. She objected at first, but as soon as I touched her, she was lost. I rubbed her in tight circles, both of us still watching the beautiful fuck that was happening between us, full of need, happiness, and sadness at the same time. I couldn’t comprehend the emotions running through me, and so I just stopped thinking and fucked her as if it were my last time.

  We came at the same time. She cried bliss into my shoulder, biting my suit, as I emptied myself into her. I didn’t want to withdraw. I wanted us to stay like this forever. Facing the world and our issues — whatever the fuck they were — could wait until the day we died.

  But the reality of where we were slowly sunk in. As soon as we disconnected, Millie put up that cold shield around her while she started dressing in a hurry. She put on a bra, which I assumed she had borrowed from my sister, and then a shirt. I wiped the remaining cum off my cock and zipped up, pleased that she’d probably feel me dripping down her leg through the day, and each time she cleaned herself of me, she’d think about this moment between us.

  “This can never happen again. Do you understand?” she said.

  “Why not, baby? Why?”

  “Because it’s hard enough to stay away from you as it is.”

  “Then don’t.”

  She shook her head. “I have to. I’m meant to be alone, Dave. I’m sorry, but we can’t see each other again. I already got an apartment—”

  “What?”

  “I moved out of April’s a month ago.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I told you. I… I just have to. We can’t be together.”

  She was lying. I saw it in her eyes the moment the words left her mouth.

  “Why not, Millie? Please… tell me what I’ve done. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything, baby. I love you.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. Well, at least she’d just confirmed that she didn’t really want to do this.

  “It won’t change anything, Dave. It’s better this way.”

  “Like fuck it is.”

  “Please—”

  Someone knocked on the door. “Millie, are you all right?”

  “Well, Brandon won’t be happy about this.”

  “It’s Brian,” she whispered. “You can’t tell him.”

  “Fine, then you can explain to him why your boyfriend was fucking you in the bathroom.”

  “Ex-boyfriend.”

  I cringed reaching for the doorknob. She couldn’t mean it, could she? Not after what just happened. Not when I knew that she still loved me.

  “I will always be there for you, Millie. For whatever you need. And I will wait for you until the day I die.”

  When I opened the door, Brian was standing there with his mouth open, somewhat surprised to find us together.

  “You might want to change those wet panties, Millie,” I called back so that he’d hear me. Yes, I was a dick at that moment, but I couldn’t have cared less. I left her there, with Brian, to deal with the mess I’d made.

  And that would be the story of my life for the next eight years. Every so often, usually during holidays, birthdays, and any other family celebrations, I’d reconnect with Millie for a quick fuck. We’d kiss as if we were desperate to live off that touch for the next few
months, and then she’d slip away from me again. And all I could do was continue asking myself why, while the pendant waited in that box for the right moment I was desperate to find – when we’d finally reconnect.

  Chapter 21

  Millie

  Eight years earlier

  I was dating a cop. Two months ago, Dave was sworn in and wore his badge with honor and pride. Tonight, he worked the later shift, but I expected him home around ten. Now that we were living together, I tried my hardest to be the best live-in girlfriend I could be, but my cooking, outside of the vegetarian realm, was not as good as April’s. Dave didn’t complain, though. In fact, he stood at my side most evenings, when he worked morning shifts, stirring and seasoning, teaching me about the wonders of meat and protein. I still preferred to go the veggie route. Dave has also developed a routine of taking a walk to the grocery store each evening, whether we needed anything or not. He explained it as his way of winding down after work.

  His dedication to the force made me proud, and it made me want to be more. More for him, and more for me as well. In less than a month, I’d graduate with my administrative diploma, and I had no doubt I’d be the first of the Carltons, wherever they might be. Truthfully, I’d enrolled in college to make Mr. Mayers proud. I didn’t want him regretting taking me — ever — offering me not only his home but giving me a job I loved. I wanted to keep my position as a secretary at the Mayers forensics lab. After all, April would soon start working there, right after her maternity leave in a few months, as she was expected to give birth any time now, and Mr. Mayers had been pleased with how well I’d kept the business organized, which allowed him to concentrate on the work itself.

  Dave’s determination and good heart also made me want to give myself more to the community, the way he did. That was why I was at the homeless shelter tonight, serving dinner to the less fortunate. At one point in time, it had been me who’d needed the help; and now it was time to give back.

  When I first ran away from my foster home and came here, I’d had no choice. I hadn’t liked this place, but how could I have known that I’d wake up with or without shoes — even when I wore them. Unfortunately, freezing temperatures had a way of bringing in even the most stubborn people from the outside.

  For a while, when I came to the shelter as a young girl, I slept with one eye open — literally. It scared people off. But it also kept my shoes on my feet, my hat on my head, and my jacket around my body. And still, it was better than some of the foster homes I’d been to. Tonight, the weather was nice and the shelter wasn’t overflowing. We ran out of the mashed potatoes, and I went to the back to get another pail to scoop from.

  “Thank you, honey,” George said. He was a regular and reminded me of Tim Bowers, God rest his soul. He’d passed away two months before, and there were times when I thought that he’d taken a piece of my heart with him. He was the closest to a grandfather figure I’d ever had and was Dave’s and my biggest cheerleader. My eyes still welled up when I thought about him.

  “You’re welcome. Come back for seconds.”

  I scooped another round ball and set it onto the next plate; but when I looked up, I almost fell over.

  “Hello, Millie.”

  Wearing ragged jeans and a jacket torn at the elbows, Mark Savage stood in front of me. A tooth had chipped off in the front row. He wore more dirt than clothes and smelled as if he was in a dire need of a shower.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “This is the homeless shelter, isn’t it?”

  “Well, yes, but…”

  “That’s what I’ve been ever since the house burned down – homeless. It’s been two years now without a roof, but it’s nice to see a familiar face around here. Have you been volunteering long?”

  Why was he being nice?

  “Ahm, this is my first year. I’m sorry about your home.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for the food. You’re doing a great job, by the way,” he called out as he turned toward one of the set up tables in the corner.

  That was it? No harassment? No distasteful jokes? Was he sick?

  “You’re welcome,” I said in a quiet voice, watching him walk away.

  I wanted to add that I knew it couldn’t have been easy, because I’d been in his situation – at least that’s what ran through my mind, but he’d shocked me so much that even after he’d walked away, I couldn’t stop thinking that the guy who’d made my life miserable when I was in high school, stolen my necklace, and whose house had burned down because of me, was here.

  Weird chills I remembered from the past swept through my body. I shook them off, filling the next person’s plate with mashed potatoes, but the feeling of dread and fear remained with me for the rest of the night. Savage could become an angel and he’d still creep me out. I couldn’t forget the night of my prom, when he’d dragged me from the parking lot toward the woods by my hair, whispering promises of the good time he was looking forward to as I spread my legs. I had never told Dave that part. He hated Mark enough.

  Once dinnertime was over, I helped clean up the kitchen and said my goodbyes to the other volunteers. Tomorrow was a new day, and hopefully Savage wouldn’t be back to the shelter too often. We had regulars, but he wasn’t one of them. And right now I had a boyfriend to get home to. A cop boyfriend, whom I loved more than life itself.

  The sun had set an hour ago. I pulled my winter coat together and was zipping it up when skin-shivering footsteps grazed against the sidewalk behind me. Seeing my car parked not far away, I didn’t turn around, only sped up my pace, pushing my feet quicker through the two-inch snow. The tread echoed closer and closer as the sick feeling in my stomach rose all the way up to my throat. I reached inside my pocket for my pepper spray, but as I pulled its cap off, he was already in my face. He shoved me against the building wall, and my shoulder blades crunched on the brick. The back of my head slammed into the hard surface, and my vision went black for a moment.

  “Mark, what… I thought…”

  He brought his face closer to mine. Dark shadows outlined his eyes, the lines of despair deepened and the grooves in his forehead thickened. His breath stank of alcohol and cigarettes. I guessed his I’m a nice guy routine was too much to hope for after all.

  “What? That I changed? That all of a sudden I stuffed my balls away? Pretty good acting, ain’t it? But I’m disappointed in you. You should have known better than that, Millie. People like us don’t change. People like us remember where they came from and remain there. They should stay loyal to the streets – yet you didn’t.”

  “What do you mean, people like us?”

  “Street-smart people. Those raised by their neighborhood. You left us for the richer life, didn’t you? You sold that pussy of yours to the first guy who offered you a hot meal.”

  I wanted to say that I’d left for the safer option, which included a family, but I didn’t think that angering him anymore was wise. Besides, I doubted that someone like Mark Savage would understand.

  “Mark, I’m sorry you’re…”

  “What? A scumbag? A shirtless man whose life has been ruined because a bitch like you decided she deserved more? You know, I’ve been thinking and thinking about how to get back at you. You took everything from me. My family, my home. And I just couldn’t stop thinking. What is it that Millie loves the most? What could I take from her? Dave? Yeah, probably. But that just didn’t feel like enough.”

  He drew his hand up to my chin and squeezed it between his stinky fingers until my jaw ached.

  “And then I thought, what about her brother?”

  “How do you know about my brother?” I said through my forced, pursed lips that he held, trying to twist my face away from his stinking breath of booze and rotting, unbrushed teeth.

  “I know more than you do, sweetheart. And I’m going to use that information to screw you over and over again. I will wait for that perfect day, when you’ll think that everything is all peachy, and once I know I’ve done everything i
n my power to ruin you, I’ll fuck you until you can’t stand on your own two feet. Until then, I need you to be afraid that the day has come.”

  “Mark, please…”

  “Please, Mark. I’m pretty sure that’s the same way my mother begged when your father raped her.”

  What was he talking about?

  “Yeah, the asshole Carlton tried to win her back later. He bought her earrings and bracelets that had the same stone as your necklace, but it was too late.”

  “I am not my father. I haven’t seen him in decades.” I wasn’t sure whether I’d even recognize him. Mark, though, didn’t seem to care.

  “You’ll pay for everything that’s been stolen from me. I want you to look over your shoulder when you walk to your car alone and dread falling asleep, because I may just break in – the way your boyfriend did to my house.”

  “Mark, please. There must be something I can do.”

  “Your time to do what was expected of you already passed. All you had to do was stay at the house so we could collect enough money, but you decided that you deserved a better home. Then I gave you a second chance at that prom. You should have spread those legs for me not for Dave, but no, that was too much to ask. You didn’t think I remembered that night, did you? That prom night when he beat the shit out of me and then snuck into my house, stole that necklace, and lit the couch on fire? He did it on purpose, you know. He wanted me dead because I told him that I’d get to your pussy one way or another.”

  Mark was delusional. Dave didn’t do that! He couldn’t have, because he was the one who went back to get the rest of the Savage family. But they weren’t there. They were away, on a hunting trip.

  Flakes drifted up instead of falling, and I shivered.

  His hand slid down my body, slowly over my breasts, and to between my legs. I stood frozen as he cupped my sex, although even through my jeans, the touch felt like one of the most revolting things ever. How far would he push this? How far would I let him?

  “So, I’m about to become your nightmare, sweetheart. Should I get rid of Dave, or have fun with pretty little Timothy?”