by DC Renee
I walked away from her, the fire boiling in me. I was wound too tight to truly appreciate just how hard she had been crying. I heard her two rooms down. She was sobbing; the kind you heard in movies when the main character hears the news that their loved one died and they fall to the floor in dramatic fashion. I could hear it, but it didn’t register. All I heard were words like vile, disgust, and worthless. That last one had hit me hard, even though she had said it in passing. I had been called that enough times in my life; I didn’t need to hear it coming from a little brat like her. “Son of a bitch,” she had said. I knew it was a phrase and nothing personal against my mother, but at that moment, I took it as a personal assault against her. My dad was a real special guy. I said that as sarcastically as possible, but my mom, she loved me unconditionally, no matter what I might have done in my life. Even if you were the last man on earth. So cliché but it stung. It shouldn’t have. Her opinion of me didn’t matter; at least, I’d told myself that several times. I’d show her. A tiny little voice had told me that I’d already had, and it didn’t turn out well, for either of us, but I pushed that down.
I ignored the wailing coming from the other room as I opened the contacts in my phone and scrolled until I found a good number.
She picked up after only one ring. I liked that about her. It was no strings. Just sex, just fun.
“Hi, baby,” Trudy purred, and my dick stirred to life. That was a lie. It had been alive and kicking after the little scene with Paige. She had been breathing hard before she broke the connection. Even in my red haze of anger, I imagined her breathing hard while I pumped in and out of her. Hearing her dirty words directed at my actions rather than at me. That mouth speaking my name on a moan rather than a scream. My body and my mind were on two different pages.
“Fifteen minutes. Don’t make me wait,” I demanded of Trudy. I called her when I needed to wet my dick, and I didn’t feel like the hassle of a new plaything. We met at a party of a mutual friend. She had been recently divorced from her high school sweetheart. While she had been loyal to him, he hadn’t. She was looking to enjoy her newly single life and didn’t want or need a relationship, which made her the perfect fuck buddy. I knew I wasn’t the only guy in her life just like she knew she wasn’t the only one in mine.
“I only need ten.” She chuckled.
She was at my place in seven and looked good enough to eat. And that was just what I did. I enjoyed her as if she was my favorite dessert before her pussy squeezed my cock like a glove … several times. The sounds she made were great for any guy’s ego, and after the run-in with Paige, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t need a little pick-me-up. I took her as if Paige didn’t exist and wasn’t capable of walking in on us. At that moment, I didn’t care. That was what Paige did to me. She turned me into something extreme, something completely uncaring. Where before, I had a little bit of shame; now, I had none. This was my motherfucking house, and I was going to do as I pleased. She said, “Fuck you, Enzo.” No, my dear, I believe this was me fucking you.
Three
Paige
The first time I heard, “Oh Enzo,” was while I was a blubbering mess after he had stormed out of the room. I knew a few hours had passed because I looked at the clock, but it seemed like it was the blink of an eye. I was trying desperately to hide inside myself and trying to forget the violation Enzo had done not only to my body, but to my spirit as well. I should have expected nothing less from him. He was a monster and his attitude toward me should have been the first indicator that I was nothing to him. So then why? Why did he do that to me the night before? Why didn’t he just leave me alone as if I wasn’t even there? A piece of furniture. I would have been okay with that. No, that was a lie. I wouldn’t have, but it would have been a hell of a lot better than what he did.
I was pulled out of my self-pity by a long, drawn-out moan. Before I registered what it was, I was scared. Of what, I wasn’t entirely sure. I thought that maybe Enzo had somehow gotten hurt. A tiny part of me, the good part, kicked in and wanted to help him. A bigger part was secretly thrilled. The bastard deserved some punishment. And then I heard it. A high-pitched scream that sounded more like the mating sound of a wild animal, followed by, “Oh, Enzo.” I froze. I was a virgin, but I wasn’t ignorant. That no-good, piece of … ugh!
The woman sounded like she was trying out for a porno, with “Oh, Enzo,” separated only by “Oh, God.” If she thought Enzo was a god, she had issues. I could even hear his loud grunting and whispered words I couldn’t make out. It brought me to the night before, and I was with my head in the toilet in seconds. I didn’t have much in my stomach and spent the bulk of the time dry heaving to a chorus of sex I didn’t want to hear. Through two closed doors, I could still tell that he was in the downstairs living room. He didn’t even have the decency to move his activities to the bedroom. What if I had walked out and saw them going at it?
With the noise level, I didn’t have to see them with my own two eyes. My imagination was doing a mighty fine job and putting the noises to pictures. If I had thought the previous twenty-four hours were bad, they just went from bad to worse.
I had heard people say that the body was resilient; that the mind had a harder time healing. Well, those people were right. I didn’t know how much more torture I could take and I had been married to this man for less than one full day.
I had been too shocked that day to truly process what him having sex with that woman meant. It was after a few days that it all finally kicked in. I knew this marriage wasn’t real. I knew the minute Enzo had opened his mouth that I wasn’t going to get my happily ever after. I didn’t know why I had secret hopes that my wedding night would be a magical affair, even after the circus we made at the ceremony or the amount of alcohol my groom consumed. I didn’t know why even after he assaulted me and I spent hours crying over it and him that I thought we might be able to work things out somehow. It was the deep feelings of a perfect happily ever after that kept steering me wrong.
This wasn’t going to be a real-life together. Enzo wasn’t going to sweep me off my feet and kiss me when he came home. He wasn’t going to decorate the house with roses and candles the first time he took me. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to stay faithful.
I stayed locked in that bathroom for hours after I heard the woman’s heels click on the floor and the door close behind her. It was only after Enzo whistled for twenty minutes, made himself something to eat in the kitchen, watched TV in the living room, and went to his room, closing it behind him that I was able to crawl out from behind the toilet.
I hadn’t eaten all day, but I didn’t want to. I quietly made my way to my room, closed it, and jammed two chairs in front of the door. I made a mental note to call a locksmith and figure out how to make my door significantly more Enzo-proof just in case.
I scrubbed my skin raw that night in the shower before finally falling asleep, exhausted.
That first week was a blur. I came out of my room only when I heard Enzo wasn’t around. I felt like a zombie and I probably looked like one, too. The only times I felt happy were when Nora called to check on me. The happiness in my voice wasn’t a lie as it had been the one time my parents had called.
I had managed to go one full week without seeing Enzo. I think I was hoping that was going to be my new way of life. It wasn’t. I had somehow miscalculated when Enzo would be home; I stepped into the kitchen only to find him leaning against the counter, chugging a bottle of water. He had just come back from a run; that much was clear. He was in jogging shorts and his shirt had been tucked into the back of them, leaving his sweat glistening torso on display. Someone upstairs didn’t like me very much. Otherwise, this man standing before me, my own personal nightmare, wouldn’t be this damn gorgeous. I felt like my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth as I watched his throat muscles work as the water made its way down. I openly ogled him before he realized I was there.
As he turned and his eyes met mine, the gold color shone bright
ly against the sun streaming in. He truly was magnificent, and I was scared shitless of him. I took a step back and I swear I saw him cringe. He eyed me warily before he nodded and simply said, “Paige.” His voice held a touch of malice, but otherwise, it lacked emotion. It was fitting, considering I wasn’t worth any emotion from his point of view.
I was too stunned to speak as he brushed past me.
The second time I heard, “Oh, Enzo,” was that very night. I was pretty sure the voice belonged to a different woman, but I couldn’t be sure. This time, he was in his room, and every time after that as well. He never had a woman in the living room again. I supposed I could thank him for small favors. Although, I was pretty sure listening to his body slap against someone else’s sounded worse than the actual crying out. I survived listening to the moans and groans as long as I could, but it was too much for me to handle. I made my way to the farthest point of the house, but it didn’t help. I heard him and his friend loud and clear. I grabbed a spare blanket and made my way downstairs. I was hesitant to lay on the couch, but my body needed to rest more than my mind needed to dwell on what might have happened on that couch.
I turned on the TV quietly, but it was enough to drown out the moans and screams and definitely the “Oh Enzos” and lull me to sleep. That wasn’t the last time I slept on that couch, not the last by a long shot.
Four
Enzo
Paige was only two years younger than I was, but it felt like she was a little girl. I had called her that a few times, and she seemed to fit the bill. But the first week at her new home, I should have dubbed her the little mouse. She hid in her room as if I didn’t know what she was doing, but that was fine with me. In fact, I figured that if she kept to herself, this marriage wouldn’t be so bad.
The little mouse had made her appearance after a week, and I guess I was the cheese because I saw her staring, mouth opened, wide-eyed at my body as I drank water. I couldn’t see clearly from the corner of my eye, but there was no disdain in her gaze, only wonderment. Damn if it didn’t make me swell a bit with pride; it also made other parts swell, too.
When I turned to face her, I got the full effect of her penetrating midnight blue stare. It got me every time. I had seen girls with eye colors that ranged from violet to plain brown, a wide array of blues mixed in, most of them staring at me from behind their lashes while on their knees in front of me. Yeah, that was where my mind went. But no one had eyes that color. I drank her in as her eyes continued their sweep of my body. She looked disheveled, not as well put together as I had seen her before. Her face was free of makeup and her hair was tied loosely in a ponytail. The tired bags under her eyes didn’t go unnoticed. I had seen one too many women without makeup when I’d been too out of it to kick them out before the morning, and it usually wasn’t pretty. Yet even as defeated as Paige looked, her natural beauty was something to write home about.
I was two seconds away from saying “Fuck it” to my hatred of her, putting on my charming smile, and doing what I had to do to get into Paige’s pants … the right way. I felt the corners of my mouth start to tug up just as it seemed like she had snapped back to reality. When her eyes met mine, she shrank back and physically took a step away from me.
It burned me in more places than I cared to admit. It took all of my control to keep from boiling over and telling her off. A part of me understood her reaction, but the asshole in me – the real me, I guess I should say – wanted to tell her she wasn’t a saint and had no right to judge me. Hell, she was married to me, so what did that say about her?
I walked past her, probably too closely for either of our likings. I was not sure she even realized it, but her body shirked away from mine. I wanted to turn and press myself against her just to make a point, but I didn’t. I didn’t need her or her high and mighty fucking attitude. I could get any girl I wanted throwing themselves at me.
So that was just what I did.
I went out with some of my friends that night, found the first hot chick I saw, and then got her hot and heavy on the dance floor before whispering in her ear, “I like that dress on you, but I’d like me on you better.” Yeah, those shit pick-up lines actually worked for me all the time. I was not sure why I even cared, but I didn’t want the possibility of Paige walking in and seeing me pounding this chick like she could have with Trudy.
The girl was a pro and rode me as if she was trying to win the Kentucky Derby. It wasn’t hard to concentrate on her tits bouncing up and down when they were right in my face, yet if I closed my eyes, even just to blink, I saw Paige’s blue eyes staring at me. I could almost taste her lust, feel her wetness coating me, but then it would be all over and I would be staring at plain brown eyes. It took longer to finish than usual, but what in the hell did I care? I got mine, I was pretty sure the chick got hers, and when it was all said and done, she even knew the score and got dressed in record time.
“I’d offer you my number in case you wanted to do this again, but we both know this was a one-time thing so thanks.”
I smiled, liking that. I put on some shorts and walked her out. What could I say, I was a nice guy. I was too busy trying to be quiet, Lord knows why – it was not as if we were keeping things down a few minutes before - to notice that the TV was on and there was the little mouse on the couch.
It was only after I had locked the door and turned that I saw Paige cuddling one of the throw pillows. She truly looked like a little girl, and for the second time in a very short time, I felt like a real bastard. I hadn’t ever looked down on myself, not since I was a kid. My dad sure did, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass about what anyone thought. Yet here was Paige, the girl who was killing my life, and I was feeling like a fucking jerk.
I didn’t feel like this when she was awake and near me. I wanted to punch a hole through the wall when she was around, but here, sleeping as she was, I wanted to tell her everything would be all right, even though I knew it wouldn’t be. I felt like I was in some Lifetime movie bullshit my mom used to make me watch when I was a kid. She would use it as a form of punishment, but I think she really just wanted to spend some extra time with me when I wasn’t running around trying to stab imaginary bad guys. And here I was, a bystander to this charade Paige got us into, yet I was still the bad guy.
I took the blanket that had fallen off her shoulders and gently lifted it up higher to cover her. She shivered momentarily before she sighed in her sleep and snuggled closer to the pillow. She didn’t stir and I was thankful for that because I knew as much as I didn’t hate her right now, the minute she woke up, I would.
“You didn’t let me say it before,” I whispered so low I wasn’t even sure I could hear myself. “I’m sorry, Paige.” I stared at her peaceful face for another minute before I headed upstairs and fell into a dreamless sleep, wishing the morning wouldn’t come too soon.
Five
Paige
The next few months were pretty much the same with regards to my interaction with Enzo. I’d hide from him when I could and see him when I had to. He’d grunt at me, sometimes say my name, but mostly with a scowl on his face, and very rarely, he’d look pleased to see me. Those times scared me the most. It was like a Mona Lisa smile – the “I know something you don’t know” type thing. What could he possibly know about me that I didn’t? What was he going to do that I had to be prepared for?
I saw my parents a few times, but my dad was mostly quiet while my mom decided to live in a little bubble and ignore the fact that I wasn’t happy. She went on and on about how wonderful married life was and how great things were going to be. I knew it was her way of coping, but it didn’t help me all that much.
Nora was the one who got me out of my funk.
“Leave him.” She attacked the minute I saw her for the first time in months. We had met at a coffee shop when she had come back from school for the weekend.
“I can’t.”
“Look at you. You don’t shine.”
“I never outshined you,�
� I tried to tease, even though it was sort of the truth.
“Paige!” she hissed. “I don’t want to hear that bullshit out of your mouth.”
“What? It’s true,” I responded innocently.
“I don’t care if it is. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve already told you that I wasn’t the best sister, but I am your sister and I love you. You’re not happy. Why are you doing this? You used to have a healthy glow about you. It was a determined streak. But now, you look defeated.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you’re stuck at home, avoiding your husband while listening to him have sex with other women at least once a week. I have nothing to do. I clean here and there, but a maid comes twice a week. I’ve tried cooking a few times, but I’m cooking for myself. It’s not like I’m going to make that asshole dinner.”
“I don’t get why he’s such a jerk,” Nora mused. I wasn’t one hundred percent sure either, but I knew he blamed me for being married. But it was not as if I cramped his style all that much, so what was the big deal? I hadn’t told anyone, not even Nora, what happened on our wedding night. I didn’t want to think about it, let alone talk about it. But even if I had the courage to speak to Nora, I knew she’d drag me out of there, by my hair if she had to, and I couldn’t let that happen. Gerry would put the debt back on Dad, and then supposedly, I would be in debt too, thanks to this sham marriage.
“That’s just Enzo, I guess.” I didn’t really know the guy. I’d lived with him for months now, and I didn’t know him, so it truly was just a guess.
“Why do you have to be stuck?”