People who hid were reluctant to accept the fact that they were broken and could never be pieced back into completion. They pretended to be complacent with their dirty, but deep down, they sought redemption—some way to change who they were at the core. Those people were bound for a collision course, because their denial and unfulfilled redemption sent them on a speedy path, leading to their own end. And I used to be one of those people.
While I think a normal person would want to run, call the authorities—whatever natural reaction an ordinary person, in a similar situation, would have; fight or flight. There is never an in between. In truth, the word ‘normal’ had always rang as a relative term.
I couldn’t run from the person I understood completely, or the person who understood me before I could come to terms with who I really was. I knew about his addiction. I knew the addiction with controlling women began with his stepmother. When he broke someone, he must’ve felt the same vindication I felt every time the blade sliced my flesh. As one in the same, we chased the original feeling, hoping to replicate it each time we indulged in our dirty little secret. Because, when my father took his last breath, and cursed me with the last beat of his heart, I felt…free.
Together, Eric and I created something together that I’m sure we both felt we’d never encounter. Something that moved beyond the sensation erected from our bad addictions. Something rare and genuine. Something uniquely us.
Everything Eric had done for me—sacrificed for me—rang as my idea of romantic. I’d spent so many years medicating my inability to feel guilty over my father’s death. I realized what I did, was what I had to do. Eric had been, and I think he would always be, the embodiment of everything I’d ever wanted.
He became…my angel of catharsis and my new addiction.
I’m hooked on an exclusive prescription; generic substitutes won’t do. The black box warning doesn’t mean a thing, because the benefits outweigh the danger. Because the benefits gave me all the things I needed the most.
Towards her last breath, my mother did me very well.
When I touched the top of his head and affectionately ran my hands through his hair, he clung to me. “Thank you for realizing the source of all that I do,” he whispered.
“Ethan,” I called with a quiet calm.
With hesitation, he turned his head towards my naked stomach. His heavy exhale spread a heat across my abdomen. He lightly grazed his lips against my exposed skin. Shivering, I closed my eyes for a moment as the tears flowed. Very slowly, he tilted his head up to regard at me.
I clasped his prepossessing face in my hands, sweeping my fingertips across the moisture on his cheekbones. “You’ve become a replacement for my razor blades.”
He slid up my body to stand and kissed my forehead. “For you, I’ll become something more. I’ll be everything you need. Be patient with me and you’ll see.” He searched my eyes through heavy lids as he thumbed my lips. “Reassure me that we’ll be okay—that you’ll be mine forever.”
Staring at the ring on my finger, I nodded. I tilted my chin up, giving him a sullen smile. “I’m still yours. I can’t belong to anyone else. I…I love you, Ethan.”
It’s crazy what you get away with when you look like a demigod and have a cock that’s the equivalent of heroin. The attitude that screamed, ‘I am the shit and you will agree with me.’ I could have virtually any woman I wanted. I could refrain from the things most guys had to endure just to get a glimpse of a piece of ass. The conversation: Let her drone on about herself as you pretend to be interested. The pomp and circumstance: The wining, dining, the romance, and the excessively expensive purchases to make her touch her ankles. No. I’m exempted from all of it. I could be an absolute asshole while knowing that, regardless, legs will be spread for me by the end of the night—they always are.
But I knew something the women I bedded never really find out about. Sure, they may think they’ve seen glimpses of it. But none of them have seen it completely; a mask that serves to hide the full extent of what’s inside. It isn’t by my choosing, mind you. And sure the mask reads; handsome asshole, but what’s inside the handsome shell? No. They had no fucking idea.
Most people purposely wear masks, but I could see through them. Women. When they’re on their knees to me, letting me do things to them they would never tell their friends, coworkers, or mommy and daddy about, I could see everything they’re trying to hide. I could see how truly fucked up they were. I could move the boundaries they thought were firmly mounted. I could make them go further than they planned to go. It’s deemed so very fucking easy. My weapons of choice; my pearly whites, my bedroom voice, and my way with words. I could manipulate any woman into doing anything I wanted. I could manipulate them into thinking anything I wanted them to think. I’m their reeducation. They’re left so open and willing that everything I wanted from them becomes mine for the taking. I liked fucking their minds. I liked pushing the lines so far over the edge, there’s no such thing as blurring the lines. The lines didn’t exist. To me, the lines never fucking existed. I felt accomplished if I made someone question who they were. Eventually they learn; they become whomever I want them to be. It all served one purpose—it made my cock throb.
But one particular woman…I’d laugh at any guy who claimed he might’ve developed feelings for a girl he’d never met. She turned me into a sucker. Why? Because, she literally wore her damage on her sleeve. It’s not because people feel particularly bold online, and speak without a filter because they are too chicken shit to say it in real life. No. She’s different. I knew she wasn’t pretending. I knew she was really like that in reality.
But I might’ve fucked up, because the situation didn’t read as kosher.
I remembered the founder’s brick just by the door before I walked in the door to Harvest Investments. Remembered the name on the door of the office I was forced to wait in like a chump. Distinctly remembered the receptionist, who couldn’t resist fiddling with her pussy because I told her to, refer to my appointment as a meeting with Mrs. Givens. There’s no possibility that I could’ve been communicating with my financial idol for well over a year, while thinking she was someone else. I’m too smart for that. However, I couldn’t fight the nagging feeling that I’m going to be catfished.
And if I am…the bitch is going to pay in ways she never imagined.
The door opened, and because it’s what I do, I checked myself out in the window to make sure everything was meticulously in its place.
“Thank you for meeting with me, Mr. Brenton.”
I turned, looking her over. “That’s Dr. Brenton to you, Mrs. Givens.” She’s Diouana’s mother…there’s no question about it. It’s my fucking financial idol, there’s no question about that either. Couldn’t say she hadn’t knocked them dead in her heyday, because right about now, I could forgive her for fucking with me. She was stunning. I’d never done the cougar thing. If she hadn’t been Diouana’s mother, I would’ve done some very dirty things to her finely aged ass tonight. “So,” I drawled, “are we going to play the question game, or are you going to tell me what I’m doing here with you, when I’m supposed to meet with your daughter?”
“Resemblance is striking, isn’t it?”
“Uncanny.”
She switched her ass as she walked to the glass bar in the corner. “Can I offer you a drink Dr. Brenton?”
Is she kidding? It’s barely nine in the morning. Think I kinda like this woman. “Regretfully decline.”
She poured a bottle of whiskey into a crystal tumbler and took it to her desk. After she sat down, she threw the whiskey down the hatch, finishing it in three swallows.
“Holy…shit,” I muttered.
“I don’t want to waste your time.” She pushed out her chair and crossed one long leg over the other. “Shall we get to the why of things right away?” She nodded without waiting for my answer. “I’m dying. My pride and narcism are the indirect culprits. I have maybe a year…more or less. My primary concern is
pointed at my daughter. While I’ve put most of my affairs in order, I’m left with a conundrum when it comes to her. I owe her the mother of her dreams, and unfortunately, I began to give it to her after far too long of a delay. I want to leave her with a parting gift. That gift is you.”
“Excuse me?” I choked.
“I impersonated her to get to you, but that wasn’t my sole purpose. I suspect to die in agony. I’d like to avoid that. I suspect my daughter will want to jump in the coffin and be buried along with me when I go. I’d like to avoid that as well. She’s so young, soon to be twenty-four. She has a life ahead of her that she has yet to fully live. Her ghosts of decisions past haunt her. She’ll never let them go. It will take a particularly special person to keep her tethered to this earth. I was never sure if she could meet someone who could do that….until you.
“I have a special ability, Dr. Brenton. I see beyond the shell of people. I saw it with my husband. Immaturity and inexperience pulled me into an idiotic way of thinking.” She rose from her chair and contemplated her view of the shitty downtown area of Main Street. “I thought I could change him. I should’ve known better. He was a rotten scoundrel, who preyed on everyone. He preyed on my poor excuse of a sister. Together, they planned to place my daughter in foster care, and take away all of the lesser things that mattered to me.” She turned and stared me down. “Listen carefully, Dr. Brenton, because here’s my selling point that will make you take this…” Bending down, she reached inside her drawer and retrieved an envelope which she threw on my lap. “…and see about her in Pullman.” She swallowed hard, and walked around her desk. “She killed him to save me. She killed him for me. I owe her…everything.”
Thrown, I eyed the white envelope in my lap. “I could be a cop. That’s not something you should tell a stranger.”
“You’re not a stranger to me. Unless you were someone other than who you portrayed yourself to be. I’ve gotten to know you over the course of over a year. I know the truth about you. You have the same beast living inside you that Diouana has inside of her. Hers is dormant, yours isn’t.” She slipped her ass on the desk, giving me a perfect view of her toned, long legs. “You’re very careful, Dr. Brenton. But as I’ve stated, my ability is unique. I see…everything you’ve done. I see…everything my daughter will do. I need you to protect her. Because when I’m gone, people will surround her who mean her no good will. I need you to protect her by any means necessary.” She leaned forward and lifted my chin, preventing me from staring at her legs. “Any means necessary,” she restated with a deeper tone.
I read between the lines to get to gist of what she meant. She was wrong about me. I wasn’t a fucking murderer for hire—not for her anyway. “What’s in it for me?”
“She is.”
Suddenly interested, I leaned forward. “Anyone ever tell you, you’re an atypical mother?”
She raised her shoulders and dropped them down. “What’s typical, Dr. Brenton? Do you know what a model mother should me?”
“Mine was,” I said without thinking.
“Your…biological mother?”
I shrugged. I went there once during our IMs, but I wasn’t going there again. “What makes you think my payment will be enough? I’m doing her a favor, not the other way around.”
She threw her head back and laughed. “You’re so arrogant. Perfect. How I wish I could be a fly on the wall to watch as she knocks you down. If you’re a man who likes a challenge, as I’m sure you are, you’re in for quite a treat. She’ll be everything you didn’t know you needed or wanted. While I know who I’d prefer her to be with, those individuals never make it past a thirty-second conversation with her. I’ve put my selfish desires aside to give her what she needs. I believe that you are what she needs, Dr. Brenton. I believe that you can make her stay in this world.” She took a seat back in her chair, looking at me as cockily as she was before.
She made me think for a second that Diouana might’ve been able to throw me off my game. I never played a game to lose. I never lost a game. I never gave up.
“You know where my success lies, Dr. Brenton?”
“I’ve read a few of your books. What I learned, procured a nice return that got me through and beyond med school debt free.”
“Well…what a bright student you turned out to be.”
“I never forgot your mantra—the one you said was the key to your success.”
“Ah, I’m sure I know the one: Never lay your investments on what’s smart—invest in potential. It’s done me well so far. I’ll give you this, Dr. Brenton, if she’s not enough for you, which I know she will be, I’ll give you stake in my company as incentive. Does that sound fair?”
I thumbed my lips, pensively. The woman threw me for a big fucking loop, then set it on fire. I think she knew I’d jump through it. While getting to know Mrs. Givens, I had to hand it to her. She was right. She knew her daughter well. She impersonated her damn well. Because the woman in front of me, was a different breed from the woman she gave birth to. There were similarities; but at the core? There’s no darkness here…but there’s darkness in the woman I’m supposed to see in Pullman.
Still, didn’t know if the game was worth the chase. I had many pawns in my game to entertain me. I couldn’t say fuck it all and allow some woman to become the center of my world. Never did it. Never planned on doing it. What reason would I have to uproot my life and play the game with a woman I’d never really met? Not sure if the pain in my ass was worth it. “Thank you for the offer, but I have to get back to Ohio.” I stood strong and buttoned my custom-tailored sport coat.
“Eric, please.” She was on her feet, staring at me with pleading eyes. The woman flipped the script and became…pliant. She almost looked desperate. I couldn’t hide my grin. “Take the trip. If nothing comes of it—fine. We’ll go our separate ways.”
I eyed her, approaching her, making her retract under the push of my assertive will. “Are you desperate, Mrs. Givens? I might consider it, if you are.”
She squatted to the floor and picked up the white envelope handing it to me.
“Answer the question I posed to you, or I will walk out that door.”
“Yes,” she gasped.
My grin broadened. “Exactly what kind of cancer…do you have, Mrs. Givens? I might be able to help you…in another way.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “I’ve answered your pertinent question. The answer to your immediate second question is neither here nor there.” She shook the envelope at me. “This is what’s most important.”
I took the envelope and gave her a nod. Somehow, I know I’m going to fucking regret this.
Pullman was definitely a college town. Downtown was barely a downtown and didn’t have a single skyscraper. The college was their pride here. It was evident everygoddamnwhere.
I stood across the street, in front of the window of a hardware shop, and watched the action at the coffee shop across the street. The college kids were crowding inside, but not because it was rush hour…something big was going down.
On the verge of giving up, because I looked like a creeper standing there waiting for her, she finally showed up. She couldn’t be missed. I couldn’t miss her. Despite the frumpy shit she was wearing and the messy hair; the woman took after her mother in the best possible way. Watching her became a pretty fucking easy task.
She walked heavy and slow with head down and eyes to the ground. I had no idea how she didn’t run into anyone walking that way. I wanted to scold her from across the street, tell her to lift her chin and walk straight. I liked a confident woman. They were the most fun to break. She looked like she would fall apart if someone looked at her for too long.
She stopped in front of the coffee shop and stood there, staring inside. She stood there for a good damn thirty minutes. I looked from the coffee shop to her, wondering why she wouldn’t go inside. She took a few steps back and leaned against the adjacent building. She ran her hands over her face, and I could’ve sworn sh
e was crying.
I didn’t get it. Why didn’t she go in? I looked to the coffee shop again. Then it dawned on me; too many people were inside.
“Hey,” I grabbed a random college kid by the arm, sizing him up. My pawn should’ve been okay in the looks department, but not better looking than I. He didn’t fit the bill. He was all right, but he wasn’t someone I wanted anywhere near her. I let him go and grabbed a less scruffy-looking guy. “Want to earn a hundred bucks?”
“Is there a catch?” the dumbfuck asked.
“See that girl across the street.” I nodded to Diouana
He followed my direction. “Yeah,” he grinned.
“Wipe that damn smirk of your face. She’s mine. Got it?”
“Okay. What do you want me to do about it?”
“I want you to go inside, and buy her a cup of coffee. Plain. Black. Start a conversation with her, but don’t touch her. Keep the change. There’s no catch.” He aimlessly stood there, looking like the dumbfuck he truly was. “Go before she leaves and you upset me for making me waste my time with you.”
“Okay. Okay, bro.” He threw up his hands and left my side.
He went inside, taking too damn long because Diouana looked as though she wanted to leave. He came back out just in time. He sheepishly approached her. Wrong. Pissed now, because he’s going to fuck it up.
I should’ve been the one to do it, but I couldn’t—because I was considering taking Mrs. Givens’s offer. If she met me now, it would screw up everything. It wasn’t the time. She didn’t know about her mother, but when she did…the time clock would start, and I’d make my move.
The Sordid Promise Page 30