by Dark, Aubrey
The sound of a car engine came to my ears as though from a distance. I could hear it coming around a lower bend in the road. All I had to do was run out into the middle of the road, wave my arms. I was free. I could go home.
What was it he had said that troubled me so much?
The car’s engine grew louder, and I closed my eyes, my hands at my temples. Thinking back. He wanted to let me go. Surely he knew that I was going to go to the police. He hadn’t even asked me not to tell anyone.
Bored.
The car came around the bend, but I was already running back up toward the house, the troubled feeling in my mind coalescing into something as clear and bright as words on a page. I knew what he meant.
Bored—that was the reason I’d tried to commit suicide. That was what I’d told him.
I ran up the porch and banged on the door, the feeling of dread growing inside of me.
“Gav!” I shouted. “Gav! Let me in!”
The door knob rattled in my hand, but the deadbolt was secure.
“Gav!”
No response.
I went to the window, banging on the pane. I tried to look in, but the glare of the sun reflected off of the glass, and I could see nothing inside. I raised my hand to break the windowpane, and then hesitated. But only for a second.
What is he going to do, kill me?
Gav
The darkness descended, but this time it was not the darkness of my shadow. Shadows need light to exist, and where I was going there was nothing, nothing at all.
Around my neck I felt a strange tug and tension cutting off my blood. My heart pounded loud, drowning out everything. My body kicked once, then again, and I only sensed the body kicking, could not feel it myself. I was already drifting away into the darkness.
This was a dark like fog, so thick it slid over my skin. A soft, enveloping darkness. A peaceful void that I fell into knowingly, longing to lose myself. It was the same thing you sink into halfway on your way to sleep - an ether, thick and palpable. The murmuring fog cradled me, turning me in its arms.
My breath stopped. My lungs were empty. I was empty, blissfully empty. The sound of my heartbeat faded, slowed to a dull murmur. The shadow of a heartbeat.
The sound of the fog - lord, how can I describe it? Pick up a shell and hold it to your ear. It’s not the ocean you hear, but rather a reverberation of static noise. That was the sound of the fog, a low roar coming from nowhere and filling everything. It was a dull roar, a noise that tickled at my senses without letting me hear anything else. The sound came through my body and filled me, too, a peaceful static.
The noose tightened on my neck, but it didn’t hurt. Nothing hurt. I was weightless now, floating away into the dark fog, leaving my shadow and all shadows behind.
Kat
I broke through the window, stepping carefully inside so I wouldn’t cut myself.
“Gav!” I cried.
I checked the living room, the kitchen. He wasn’t there. I heard a noise from upstairs. The bedroom. I stumbled up the steps and raced down the hallway.
“Gav!”
I banged open the door and saw the rope, the chair, and his body, his beautiful body, hanging limp in the middle of the air. Like he was floating.
Gav
Perfect, this darkness. It was not the shadow at all. The shadow was gone, far away. All of my sins would be suffocated, drowned in the fog. I let myself drift, feeling calm. Peaceful.
Then, from away, far far in the distance, buried in the fog, I heard a scream.
Kat
My fingers fumbled at the knot, but it was too tight. His entire weight had pulled the knot, and I couldn’t undo it. His face was white, and his lips were beginning to turn blue-grey, the same color as his eyes.
“No, no, no,” I mumbled, casting my eyes around. There it was. The knife on the dresser. I grabbed it and swung the blade hard at the bedpost, cutting the rope right through the knot.
Gav
With a hard jolt, I was yanked back ungently into my body. All was dark, still, though my shadow had yet to reappear. There was still peace around me in this darkness. The tension around my neck loosened and gave way, but I clung to the dark fog.
A sharp pressure on my chest made me gasp, and I heard the blood in my body start to pump again. My pulse thudded in my ears.
A heartbeat. Sobbing. The peaceful fog began to recede. I clutched for it, and it slipped away uselessly through my fingers. No! My chance to escape!
From the place I had already left, her voice was calling.
“Don’t go,” she cried. Her words faded in and out like a poorly tuned radio, becoming clearer as the darkness receded. “Don’t die. Oh god, don’t die.”
I wanted to tell her not to pray for me. God, if such a thing existed, wouldn’t intervene to save the life of a killer. Then again, He might have a sense of humor.
Kat
His body crumpled to the ground, lifeless. I slid my fingers under the noose at his neck and pulled it over his head, throwing it to the side.
“No,” I moaned. “No, please, no. Don’t die.”
He wasn’t breathing. I pressed my fingers to his wrist, feeling for a pulse. My own heart was pounding so hard that I couldn’t hear anything.
“Come on, Gav,” I whispered. I bent down and pressed my lips against his. My breath lifted his chest, filled his lungs. My hands pressed down on his chest, hard and fast, desperate to draw the life back into him. Lips to his, I breathed again.
Again.
I couldn’t lose him.
I couldn’t.
Gav
Slowly at first, the fog seeped away, then faster, drawing all of the nothingness away with it. Taking away with it my peace. Her voice was louder, clearer, right in my ear. Her hands beat at my chest, her sobs audible.
“Come back. Don’t leave me. Please, Gavriel. Come back.”
Clinging to the darkness, I felt her hand grasp at my fingers. I knew she was reaching for me. I could have tried to stay gone forever, but the ground was being pulled away from under my feet.
There was no fog anymore, only the darkness without peace, and I knew that this was not a place I could stay in. Somebody was calling.
I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing, but when has that ever stopped me?
She reached for me, and I could not wait forever. Scared, unsure, I took her hand and let her pull me back into the light.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Kat
With a gasp, his eyes opened. I fell back, sobbing, as his lungs drew in ragged gasps of air. His skin pinkened, the color coming back to his lips.
“Gav,” I whispered, my hands holding his. The rope had left a mark around his neck, a deep red gouge. He coughed and rolled onto his side.
I waited for him to catch his breath. His fingers were splayed out on the floor, and I pulled back away from him. Now that he was back—
He was dangerous.
No.
He was a killer.
No.
What are you doing? Run. Run!
I shook the thoughts from my head. The muscles in my right arm ached, and I realized that I had strained myself when I swung the knife into the bedpost. I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except that he was alive.
Gav pulled himself up, slouching against the bed. He closed his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, then exhaled. I waited, scared, sitting on the floor.
Finally he opened his eyes. His voice was scratchy, hollow. He could barely speak.
“Why did you come back?” he whispered.
My heart beat fast in my chest.
“I realized what you were doing. I knew you wouldn’t let me go for any other reason. I figured out what you were going to do.”
He smiled, the motion making him wince in pain. He rubbed his neck with one hand.
“Kitten, that doesn’t answer my question. Why did you come back?”
The real answer slipped from my tongue before I could stop it.
/>
“I love you.”
He looked at me, his eyes softening.
“That’s why I let you go,” he whispered.
“Because…”
“Because I love you. It’s a weakness, isn’t it, kitten?”
He smiled. Oh, lord, he smiled.
I nodded slowly, my heart swelling in my chest.
“Yes. A good weakness.”
His breath came back to him. He reached for the rope and took it up in his hand, turning it over and over.
“I was almost there,” he murmured. “Almost dead.”
The thought sent ice through my veins. Just thinking about his body hanging from the ceiling made me want to scream again.
“Did you see anything?” I asked.
“Nothing to see,” he said, tossing the rope off to the side. “I suppose now we simply have to live.”
We.
The word was a fingernail plucking my nerves. Vibrating them. He coughed again.
“What happens now, kitten? Have you thought that far?”
I hadn’t thought that far, but apparently my subconscious had started to. The pieces clicked into place one by one as I thought about it.
I moved over to where he was sitting against the bed and sat with him, shoulder to shoulder. The explanation came to my lips mechanically. I ticked off the points one after another.
“I tell everyone I had a panic attack. I ran away to be alone for a while with my friend.”
“A friend?”
“A secret friend, one I’d never told anybody about. You get away scot-free. And…”
“Yes?”
“And you pay for me to go back to school in the fall.”
“Oh?” His eyebrow raised.
“It’s a fair trade.”
“A trade? What do I get in return?”
I paused. There was no hesitation in my heart, but I didn’t know how he would take it. His head turned to the side, and he stared into my eyes.
“Me.” My hands pressed into the floor, holding me still. “All of me.”
“All of you.”
His hand lifted. His knuckles grazed my elbow. He moved his hand down, brushing his fingertips along my arm.
“You would be mine?”
“Yes.” My voice was shaky. After all this, his rejection would be the thing that would hurt me the most. His hand glided down my lower arm and his fingers slipped loosely around my wrist. I could feel his thumb pressing against my pulse point. Where my scar was.
“You’ve spent a lot of time and effort trying not to be mine, kitten.”
“I—I didn’t know what I wanted before.”
“And now?”
“I want you. And I want to be yours.”
His hand tightened around my wrist and he lifted my hand to his mouth.
His lips kissed my palm at the heel. I didn’t breathe. Couldn’t breathe. I was balancing on the edge of something dangerous, I knew. But I didn’t care. All I wanted was to be his.
Finally he spoke, the whisper tickling my skin.
“Yes. That sounds nice, kitten.”
Gav
I pulled her to me, then. She, who had seen the shadow inside of me. She, who had been trapped for so long in my home, She had left… and come back.
She had saved me.
There was no trace of the shadow as I lifted her in my arms, lay her down on the bed. There was no trace of it when I kissed her hard, so hard that I lost my own breath in the whirlwind of passion. Hands, clothes flew everywhere.
I needed her so badly. Needed to know—
“It’s really you, isn’t it?” I asked, my hand splayed across her cheek. Dark soulful brown eyes gazed up at me.
“Of course.”
“This isn’t a hallucination? A dream? I’m not dead?”
“If you were dead, what would this be?” she asked, reaching down and grabbing my hip, pulling me against her body with a groan of desire that sent light exploding in my mind.
“Heaven,” I whispered.
“You really think you died and went to heaven?” She smirked, and the strangest thing happened. A bubbling inside that turned into laughter, pure laughter. I fell against her body, laughing uncontrollably. At last I wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Good point. I concede the argument.”
Her fingers were touching me now, pulling at my length. Already aroused, I growled in her ear and flipped her back, pinning her wrists back to the bed. She grinned at me and twisted, sending new flames of lust through my body as her soft curves moved under me.
“Do I need to tie you up?” I teased.
“Please,” she whispered. Her lips were plump and pink, so innocent and yet so demanding. I kissed her again, kissed her and kissed her and could not stop until she gasped for breath. Then I got the rope.
I paused after finishing the last knot. Her body was stretched across the bed, ready and willing. The rose-red slit between her legs was hot and swollen. I ran a single finger down her thigh, tracing the outline of her mound, wetting myself with her juices. I tasted her sweetness and she moaned. I could see her hips jerking upward slightly, wanting me to take her.
“Gavriel—”
I paused then. I looked around the room. Everything was the same. The sunlight came through the window the same as it always had. The bed was in the same place. And yet, there was no hint of the shadow.
She had driven it away.
Her chestnut eyes watched my every move as I climbed into bed and positioned myself between her legs. I loved the little jerks of her body, the twisting muscles in her arms as she strained against the ties. I could have watched her forever.
“Gav?”
My mind came back to the present. I leaned down, my cock sliding against the deliciously slick opening. She gasped as I found her slit and entered, letting her folds caress my tip. Then I thrust hard, stabbing her with my whole self, plunging deep into oblivion.
When I spoke in her ear, my breath was already ragged.
“Thank you,” I said. “Thank you for saving me.”
Kat
He teased me. He tortured me.
Most of all, he satisfied me. Satisfied my every single urge in ways I couldn’t have imagined before him. His hands spanked my skin raw and red and I begged him for more. His cock filled me, pushing me to the outer edge of my limits, and my screams were screams of delight. He twisted my nipples, sucked bruises on my hip, licked my wrists until I came from only his tongue touching me in places I’d never known I wanted to be touched.
He rolled himself against me, swollen rock hard and throbbing, and I matched his rhythm and he made me come against his cock, my body milking him, clenched viselike and shivering. He pulled out and made me come again with his tongue.
And when I ached too much, when every part of me was shattered and wide open, he pressed his thumb against my lips and I sucked hard, licked the pad of his brilliant fingers. Without waiting for a breath, he split me open with his thickness and pressed a finger between my ass cheeks and filled me in every hole, and climax after climax shuddered my body, leaving me empty of anything except the desire for more, more—
For hours he took me, used me, and gave me back myself.
When he was done at last, my breath was jagged in the air. My eyes were closed and I only felt his fingers at the ropes around my wrists. The knots loosened and opened and then he was rubbing my wrists with his hands, massaging them deeply.
I opened my eyes and saw him examining my wrists, the red lines from the rope standing out brightly on my skin.
“Would you like to get rid of them?” he asked softly.
“What?”
“The scars. Do you want the surgery? We could clean them up for you.”
“We?”
“I have an old friend. He’s a cosmetic surgeon.”
I looked down at the white seams on the insides of my wrists. They caught the light and gleamed, just for a moment, shining brightly. Like my soul was peeking thro
ugh the thin parts of me.
“You would be there?”
“I would assist.”
I raised my eyebrows as he lay down beside me. His hand cupped my breast and he nuzzled into the side of me. I had never thought about getting rid of my scars. Even in the summer, I would wear long sleeves to hide them. To be able to walk around freely, without worrying… it was tempting.
“You would assist, because…”
“For one, there’s nobody else I would trust to come into my home.”
“Oh! You would do it here?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“You know where, kitten.”
I thought of the kitchen table, the straps. The blood.
The man he had murdered. He was a murderer.
My inner self was more intelligent than my outer body, and I squirmed uncomfortably, thinking about the idea.
“You wouldn’t be tied,” he said. “You would be drugged. Local anesthesia.”
“I wouldn’t be zonked out?”
“No.”
“But this friend of yours, then, he would know about us? About you?”
He blinked deliberately. Stalling. There could only be one reason for his hesitation.
“He already knows?”
“He’s… he’s like me. In certain ways. In others, not so much.”
“How so?”
“He’s much less patient than I am.”
I stared at the man who had tied me up and teased me to the edge of insane desire. Someone worse than him?
“You’re skirting the question, kitten,” he said.
“I…”
I looked down at the lines once more. I closed my eyes and tried to imagine them gone. Tried to imagine my skin bare and unpuckered again. The image in my mind was of myself, but younger. Fifteen. Before I had taken a knife to my veins.
“No.” The word left my mouth as if of its own accord.
“No? You don’t want them removed?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
I turned my face up toward him. I thought of the box inside his closet. All those pictures of him as a boy, covered in bruises.
“Why do you keep those photographs?”