An Unholy Trinity

by C. Tyler

“Okay.” My voice cracks, and it draws his gaze. He flinches at the sight of me. I guess he can tell I’m about to cry, though admittedly I’m not bothering to hide it. “Fine.” I take another step back. “Well, I hope you guys are happy together.”

  It’s a bitter jab, and I’m glad he twitches again when I say it. He wants to push me away, fine. Push me away. He can deal with Macy on his own, without me.

  When I blink, I can feel the cold tears trickle down my warm cheeks, but I keep my jaw tight. Without another word—or a care for the remorse I see slowly seeping into his features—I turn and leave.

  Macy turned him faster than I thought she would. I expected this distant shit to happen eventually because he was usually sullen when she was around, but I sure as hell didn’t expect it this fast. And so soon after he came home, too. It’s like she pounced on him the instant he was out of prison and there’s nothing I can do about it.

  I just make it past the metal gate when I feel a hand wrap around my bicep. Almost before I can register it, I’m pulled aside and pressed against the heated metal. Chas is standing over me, looking down at me sadly. He opens his mouth to speak, but for a moment, he can’t seem to find the words.

  Letting go of me, he takes a step back and turns away. He runs his fingers through his hair and fists his chocolate locks before letting out a loud, angry roar. Throwing his hands down, he faces me once again.

  “It’s her,” he growls. “I…” He pauses again. I watch as he drags his hand down his beard and grips the end of it, tugging briefly before meeting my eye. “She doesn’t want me talking to you,” he says heavily.

  I jolt as the words sink in. “What?”

  He takes in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, like it’ll somehow help steady his growing anger. “She doesn’t want me talking to you anymore, Mikey,” he repeats.

  “Fuck her!” I scream before I even realize it. My voice echoes around us. “Who gives a shit what she says?”

  “She’s threatening custody,” he snarls. Chas is pissed and almost vibrating in anger, and now I know why. Macy’s slipped back into her old ways—which doesn’t surprise me—but it looks like she added a new caveat: Chas can’t be around me. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding your calls.” He suddenly sounds defeated, like that burst of rage was temporary.

  I clench my jaw and look away as I shake my head. The tears are coming back, along with the helplessness that seems to follow the situation.

  “It’s not fair.” My voice cracks again. “I had you first. I shouldn’t have to share anymore. She had her fucking chance, and she fucked it up. I—”

  I know it’s petty, but it’s how I feel. Shaking my head, I have to remove myself from the situation as soon as possible. I mumble a farewell to Chas, and walk away quickly, darting toward the bar so I can clean myself up and break down in private.

  No one bothers stopping me as I walk through the bar toward the bathroom in the back. The second I’m through the door, I slam it behind me. As I prop my hands on the edge of the small pedestal sink, my head drops. My shoulders tremble as I start to cry. I’m so mad, there’s nothing else for my body to do. I want to fight Macy, to beat the ever-loving shit out of her for threatening Chas with the things he loves most in the world, but what would be the point? What would it do, other than push her closer towards stripping him of his custody?

  Macy has all the power, and she knows it, wielding it like a blade.

  A heavy knock forces me into the moment.

  “I’ll be out in a minute,” I call back.

  The door opens a second later, and Chas steps into the space. He stares at me through the mirror with the same sadness I feel running through me. He closes the door and takes a stance directly behind me. The bathroom’s so small, he dwarfs it with his size.

  “Why is she doing this?” I ask weakly.

  “Because she can,” he replies.

  I shake my head and let it drop while my shoulders dip. There are a thousand things we can do to her for pulling this kind of shit, but Chas won’t let us. Like I said before, she’s his girls’ mom, so she’s untouchable.

  “Don’t cry,” he says softly.

  My eyes travel back to the mirror just as Chas reaches for me. He slips his hands beneath the hem of my shirt and wraps them around my waist, holding me gently. He massages my skin, forcing me to sway tenderly under the strength of the affectionate touch.

  Gradually, Chas looks up and stares at me through the smudged, dingy mirror. Still holding onto my sweltering skin, he pulls me back to his chest and I fall easily to his guidance. I don’t care that his hands are dirty and covered in grease as he runs them over my skin—I’m just glad he’s touching me.

  “I want you to come home,” I say as he continues to explore my body. “You shouldn’t be with her. You should be with us.” He sighs and lets his forehead rest against the crown of my head. I reach behind me and cradle him close. “Because you’re mine.”

  “Always,” he replies with a thick voice.

  My heartbeat quickens as his hands close around my breasts. He squeezes me tightly, eliciting a soft coo from me when he does. I feel Chas placing kisses on the back of my head as he makes his way closer to my neck. The instant his lips touch my skin, I gasp longingly. It’s been days since I’ve felt him, and that’s too much.

  As the desire between us grows, his touch becomes harsher than before, more desperate. It encompasses how I feel perfectly, and I am more than willing to disappear within it.

  My free hand disappears between us, and without hesitation, I grasp his growing erection. Chas lets out a low, subdued groan as I squeeze him and nips tenderly into my neck. I stroke him rigid through his slacks while he pinches my nipples, forcing them to pebble beneath my thin lace bra. Each jolt sends a shudder through my body.

  “I need you,” I breathe as my actions increase. “I want you, Chas.”

  Fortunately, he feels the same. Releasing my breasts, Chas’s hands immediately begin to work on my jeans. He undoes my buttons and pushes them down, along with my panties, and stops when they’re just past my ass. I watch him through the mirror as he focuses next on his own slacks. A moment later, he bends me over the sink and runs his cock along my folds. Fire rises inside me. A week is too long without my giant.

  “Fuck me,” I tell him.

  And he does, pushing into me without the slightest resistance because I’m wet at nothing more than his proximity. I let out a strangled cry of pleasure as he buries his dick deep inside me, and I grip the slick edge of the sink tightly. The fire in my gut is suddenly an inferno.

  “Don’t stop,” I whisper. “I need you.”

  There’s no hesitation this time. Chas takes hold of my hips and begins fucking me, slamming me against him while I struggle to hold onto the sink. I don’t bother being quiet. I don’t care who can hear me, who knows what’s happening in the bathroom—I just care about the man I’m with.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” I pant with each thrust. I’ve been yearning for Chas for so long that I can already feel my orgasm approach. “Oh God, yes.”

  I hear him growl behind me as he increases his efforts. Suddenly he reaches forward and begins to play with my clit, stroking it sharply, and that seems to be all it takes for me.

  With a pleasure-filled cry, I come. My channel clamps down around his cock, strangling it and refusing to let him go while waves of euphoria render me useless. My heart thunders, my body shakes, and my head empties.

  I can feel Chas sliding in and out of me as he continues to reach his own end. He wasn’t far behind, apparently, and comes shortly after. He bites back another sexy growl as he shoves his dick as deeply as it’ll go and holds me there, filling me completely.

  We don’t move for a moment or two, but eventually, he looks up through tendrils of chocolate hair, and meets my gaze through the mirror. He looks like a caveman, primal and rough. It makes my pussy twitch, and when it does, he flinches. I smile just a little as a result.

  C
has steps back and brings me with him. He leans against the wall, wrapping his arms around me and cradling me to his chest as we both finish coming back down to earth. He’s still inside me, a true testament to his size, and I love how it feels.

  “I love you,” he whispers in my ear.

  I let out a soft, long sigh and curl against his chest. “I love you, too.” He kisses my temple sweetly. “I want you to come home,” I tell him. “You belong with me and Spence.”

  “I know.” His voice is thick and heavy, sad. “But—”

  He doesn’t bother finishing the statement. We both know what he’s going to say, so there’s no point in repeating it.

  Eventually, whether we want to or not, we part. I feel empty and cold after he pulls out, but I don’t say anything about it. Instead, we just ignore the truth because that seems easier than facing it. It’s not like we can do anything about it, anyway. Macy is unreasonable.

  When we’re relatively presentable, we exit the bathroom and ignore the hangers-on glancing at us in passing. There’s no doubt they heard us fucking in the bathroom, but we don’t care. They mean less than nothing to us.

  I give Chas another long, sad kiss after he walks me to my car, and I finally leave the yard—returning to the home he’s supposed to share with me and Spence.

  ****

  I had to stop and get groceries on my way home from the shop, and I immediately wished there was a second grocery store in town. Unfortunately, there isn’t, and who should be working? Macy, of course.

  I avoid the blonde she-bitch as much as possible. I can feel her eyes on me as I move through the aisles, but I ignore it as much as I can.

  When I make it up to the cashiers, my stomach sinks further. Just before I can make it to the only cashier that isn’t Macy, she puts up that dreaded sign, “lane closed”. Evidently, after the guy who is being checked out now, she planned to go on break.

  Shit. Double shit.

  My eyes drift over to the blonde with the bad dye job, and whether I like it or not, I make my way to her lane. My jaw is clenched so tightly it actually hurts, but I have to keep it like that so I don’t say something I know will start a fight.

  When my time comes and our eyes lock, the air drops about ten degrees. I can actually taste the hatred between us. I bite down harder. My consolation is I have a secret. Chas is still mine. He was mine an hour ago, and always will be.

  The only sound is that high-pitched bing of the checkout. After a moment, however, she speaks.

  “It’s good to have a man in the house, isn’t it?” she asks in that condescending, grating voice. My jaw flexes again as I stay quiet. “God, having Chas back…” She sighs longingly.

  I have to repeat a mantra in my head the longer she goes on and on about having Chas back.

  “Do not hit this bitch,” I repeat to myself internally. “Do not hit this bitch, do not hit this bitch.”

  “What’s the matter, Michelle?” she finally says just as she rings up my half-gallon of milk. “Got nothing to say, do ya?” She leans a little closer to whisper. “And you won’t say shit.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to the point I taste copper. I know I’m bleeding, but I can’t stop.

  When Chas first started hooking up with Macy, she and I didn’t hit it off. There’s something conflicting in our personalities, like she’s a whore and I’m not, and I made my feelings known. Hell, I kicked her ass twice for talking the same shit she is now. It wasn’t until Chas started getting serious with her that I backed off. We both did, actually. Macy and I both stopped slinging the major insults at each other in public, but that didn’t stop her jabs because she knew I loved Chas too much to cause a scene. I saw how much it stressed him out when we went after each other, so out of respect for him, I said nothing.

  Like now. Now, I have to shut the hell up and take it. That’s why she’s going as far as she is. If it weren’t for Chas, she wouldn’t dare. Whether she wants to admit it out loud or not, Macy’s afraid of me because I’ve stomped her ass repeatedly.

  “Thirty-two, eighteen, please,” she suddenly chimes in a ridiculously sweet voice.

  Silently, I swipe my card, type in my pin number, take my bags and receipt, and leave. I can practically feel her grin, but I don’t turn around. If I see the smug expression, I’ll fucking kill her.

  Chapter Five

  Spence and I are sitting on the couch, barely paying attention to the show on TV. He’s leaning to the side, and I’m half in his lap, resting my back against his chest. We’ve both been in a despondent mood since Chas moved out. We can’t help it. Spence might see his brother every day at work and through the club, but it’s not the same. It’s been two weeks now since he left—almost three—and a week since I saw Macy, and we both see what it’s doing to him.

  Spencer was pissed when I told him why Chas was avoiding me. He wanted to confront the man, but he knew there was no point. All he’d do is repeat everything I already said. So why bother? It wouldn’t change anything. Chas would still be stuck with Macy because she holds all the cards.

  I have been able to see Chas more, though. I spend my time with him up at the shop when he’s working, but as awesome as the loophole to Macy’s rule is, it breaks my heart. Not only is it bullshit that I have to tiptoe around her when I shouldn’t, I’ve been able to watch the change in Chas, too. I’ve watched as any hint of light he possessed withered away. I got to watch her suck the life out of him, and it pisses me off so goddamn much. Two weeks with her and he looks worse than he did when I visited him in prison.

  She really is a Succu-bitch, draining the life out of any man she comes in contact with.

  “I need to go for a walk,” I say after a lengthy silence.

  I sit up and adjust myself, glancing to Spence when I do. The heartbreak I feel about Chas’s situation is reflected back at me through his beautiful blue eyes. We both just want him back.

  “Be careful.” He feels the need to tell me.

  Nodding, I lean forward and kiss him sweetly. When I stand, I slip on a pair of shoes, grab my keys and phone, and head out.

  I don’t know where I plan to go, but I need to walk, to do anything.

  ****

  I’ve been wandering through downtown for an hour or better, and my mind is barely cleared. Hope hasn’t changed at all through the years. It’s one of those typical, Norman Rockwell-esque sort of towns, minus the biker gang. It still has the sweet families and shops that have been in the family for generations, and even old guys sitting outside the barber shop talking about the good ol’ days. Hope is a very slow-moving place, and most days, it’s relaxing. Today, I barely notice.

  As I find myself slowly making my way back towards the house, I see Macy standing outside the grocery store where she works, leaning against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette, and I’m immediately filled with rage. It’s deep and profound, a level I don’t think I’ve ever experienced before, and it guides me without question.

  And while the feeling isn’t really unheard of when it comes to her, this is something different. I mean, I honestly don’t know what the hell came over me this time. Maybe I’m just finally fed up.

  Somehow, I’m suddenly across the street and storming towards her with determination. As she exhales some smoke, she looks up and sees me. For a moment, she grimaces like I’m some snotty little creature she shouldn’t be bothered with, until she notices my expression. Evidently, I look terrifying because Macy’s face suddenly drops, and I can see her fear.

  She throws her cigarette down and stomps it out as quickly as she can in a weak attempt to dash off before I reach her, but she doesn’t manage it. Before she can run, I snatch her by her cashier’s smock and yank her back behind the corner of the building. Her feet fumble beneath her as I shove her against the building.

  “The fuck do you thi—”

  I don’t know how my hand came to be around her throat, but I’m not about to remove it. Instead, I tense my fingers just enough I
get to hear that wonderful sound of her choking. She can still breathe, though. I’m not about to kill her or anything—at least not in public.

  “I’m done with you,” I hiss through my teeth. “I am done taking your shit. I am done watching you suck the life out of Chas. I am fucking done.”

  I step forward and close as much of the distance between us as I can. Fear rolls off Macy like thick smoke, and I love it. Her dull brown eyes are wide and watery. She’s about to cry.

  “Chas might not want anyone to touch you for the girls’ sakes, but I know they’d be better off without you. Let him go. He doesn’t want you. He can’t even stand you, so cut the shit.”

  “He wants to stay for the girls and his s—” she chokes out.

  My grip tightens just a bit as my ire burns through me with renewed vengeance. I am shaking I’m so mad.

  “He stays because you keep threatening to take them away, you rank whore. And he stays because if that boy is his, he wants him to have a better life than we did.” I practically growl the words. “So, stop, because I swear to any God there might be, if I find out you keep using that boy, or custody as a tool to make sure he keeps giving you money, no one’ll find you.” I can feel a sinister, almost giddy smirk twitch at my lips at the thought of her finally gone. “I will fucking kill you and spread your body through five states. You understand me?” To my surprise, she nods emphatically. “Let him go.”

  Seeing my point’s been made, I release her. Macy coughs, though I doubt it’s anything more than reflexive. Without another word to her, I turn and walk away. I smile as I make my head down the sidewalk again because I’m proud, and happy with what I’ve just done.

  Ever since I returned to Hope, my confidence and personality have been slowly but surely coming back. Everything Travis made me forget about myself—everything he made me push down into the deepest recesses of myself—has been slowly stoked back to life by Spencer and Chas. I’m almost the same woman I was before I left, and I can feel it.

  And I’ll be damned if I let a bitch like Macy threaten that more than she already has. If she felt love for Chas, or love for those kids, then it’d be completely different. But she doesn’t. She’s greedy. She only wants him and her kids because of what they can give her, and to me, that makes her something far beyond despicable. She deserves no protection or respect.