My phone pinged and I picked it up. I saw a picture of Lennox bent over, her cunt lips spread wide for a steel bar. I growled, not sure if I was pissed off or horny as fuck, and advanced, peering into the darkness. I’d been there only hours before, rescuing her. I’d made the dirty cement and peeling wallpaper weep blood just so I could pull her out of this shit hole. And she came back?
Why the fuck did she come back?
I screamed again, feeling completely helpless and pissed off. The responders had done a good job of cleaning the place up, but I could still see stains of blood. The thought that it could have been Lenny’s blood had me ready to punch a hole in the wall.
The thought that she had willingly returned…
I followed the steps I had shot my way through, feeling a sense of déjà vu, dread, and complete rage. I took the steps slowly, my legs weighed down by the memories of the day before, of the fear that I would find Lenny dead. Also there was the gravity that if I continued and didn’t find her dead, but a willing participant, that I would kill her myself; I would throw her against the wall so she would finally see some sense, see the blood I had put there in place of hers.
When I reached the top, I saw her.
She was on the ground in the middle of the hallway, thighs wide with a bar between her legs. She looked up at me, as if she expected me and no one else. As if she hadn’t been there only hours before in dire peril.
She didn’t move or make an attempt to flee when I advanced up the ratty carpet, peeling to show cement. I felt she should flee. Even though I’d saved her the day before, right then I felt like I could kill her. Naked from the waist up, her skirt bunched around her hips, she stared me down.
I grabbed her by the hair. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Getting off.” She pushed back at me but I kept my grip on her hair tight. With my other hand I unzipped my pants. If she wanted to get off, then fine. Fuck it, whatever, let’s do this—with one searing and blistering caveat, though, that would stop her from ever doing something like this again.
I pushed her back down into the dirty floor. “You like this?” I demanded as her red hair spread around her face like some kind of fucking halo, which just pissed me off more. I held her down at the neck, my other hand wrapped tightly around my now thick and turgid cock.
“Open,” I commanded. Her eyes caught mine, but only briefly, and then they closed as she opened her mouth. Good girl, I said in my head as I lowered my cock into her mouth. Today, I would only say it in my head.
I went slowly, as the size of it stretched her pink lips around my own pink flesh. I paused for a second so I could watch the sight. Then I punished her.
I made her take more than she could, and then I made her take even more. I didn’t know what the fuck she was thinking, coming back to this place, but I didn’t want to examine it. I forced my cock into her mouth, I took it out, and I forced it back in.
I felt her teeth graze the skin so I tightened my hold on her neck.
Lenny had a problem with swallowing, so I didn't force my come down her throat. I probably should have. Maybe the pain from swallowing would have finally etched it into her fucking head that she couldn’t do shit like this, but I pulled out just as I was about come. My cock twitched in my hand and I watched as my semen spurted all over her lips, her skin, her closed lids.
When it was over she lay gasping, eyes still closed as my come covered her mouth, her throat. For that moment it was perfect.
So I shattered it.
I spun her over, shoving my still hard cock into her cunt before she could respond. I groaned the minute my cock felt her wet pussy. She was always wet, always wanting, like a perfect fucking fit. Lenny tried to look back at me but I grabbed her by the neck and shoved her face forward again.
“Is this what you want? To be fucked here on the ground like some fucking animal?”—For someone else to find you?—“I can do that Lenny.” I grunted, pushing my cock deeper into her. “I can fuck you hard. I can make you bleed for me. I can take you so hard you won’t know if you’re crying from pleasure or pain.”
The sound of Lenny’s nails scratching on the concrete echoed in the room. Her small, breathless pants let me know I was getting her worked up. Lenny was a screamer, though. If it didn’t sound like I was murdering her, I wasn’t doing my job. I ripped her up against me, pulling at her neck and hair until she was flush against my chest.
Her face was now covered in dirt and semen.
“Say you want it like this. Say you want to be fucked like a whore.”
“I want to be fucked like a whore,” Lennox breathed.
“Scream it,” I demanded.
“I want to be fucked like a whore!” she screamed and her voice pitched. I let go of her and she fell back down to the concrete, then I slapped her ass and pulled her close. I could have come right then, to the sound of her small, pitiful scratching and the look of her ass, red and round against my cock. I could have come again, but I wanted to feel her twitching and moaning and whimpering.
I wanted her useless.
So I could use her more.
“Come,” I demanded. Lennox whimpered in response. “I said come!” I slapped her ass again before snaking a hand around to her clit. I pressed my finger against it before drawing it down. She shook against me.
Overcome. That’s the word I would use to describe that moment. Overcome with rage, with lust, with anger, with fear. I was overcome with myself, then later I would be overcome with the need to forget it.
I carried Lenny out of the now burning building behind me. Maybe you’re thinking it was a little unnecessary to burn the whole fucking thing, but fire is used to cleanse. That building needed to be cleansed, for Lenny and my’s sake.
Thinking back, it was always for our sake, and maybe that was the problem. The minute we came together, we disregarded everything else. Even then, I disregarded the effect a massive burning effigy might have, just because I wanted to feel some sort of catharsis. Of course the fire wasn’t what caused it all; it wasn’t like Alice saw the fire and declared what was to be right then. In the end, the fire would be a harbinger.
I opened the car door, careful not to bump Lenny’s head, and placed her inside. She looked peaceful, and for a moment I contemplated driving off and setting her someplace where she would never see me again. Maybe a beach, or maybe that purple painted house.
Everything was so fucked.
Behind me a building raged in hues of tangerine and vermillion; before me a woman slept. Even though she seemed calm, I knew the fire inside her was so much deadlier. I shut the passenger door, getting one last look at the lusty fire consuming everything in its wake. It would burn up and out soon, leaving nothing but ash. I doubted the fire department would do anything save make sure it didn’t spread.
The smoke now grew thick in the air as I walked to the driver’s side and hopped in. Lenny was somehow sound asleep. I sighed and turned on the ignition. It wasn’t beyond me that Lenny was passed out not because of my amazing skills in the sack, but because she had taken some kind of drug again.
As I pulled away, I reached over and felt below her jaw. Her skin was clammy but her pulse was strong. Sighing again, I shook my head and drove toward our apartment.
I wasn’t sure when the tail started, but you could be sure that was what it was. One way to identify a tail is to drive a very obscure route. Well, I started going down weird streets, turning into odd neighborhoods, all that shit. The red car followed me.
Don’t even get me started on the fact that this asshole was driving a red car.
He must have been an amateur.
I turned into a parking lot, expecting the guy to drive past. Even the dumbest follow knows not to continue their tail into a parking lot. So when he followed me, I knew he was either looking to give me some information or kill me.
Lucky him, I was in the mood to take a few punches.
I got out of the car at the same time as the asshole. Wearing a s
et of inconspicuous khakis, a green sweater, and a red beanie, he approached like fucking Christmas.
“What the fuck do you want?” I growled, shoving him against the car.
“Nothing man, nothing!” I glared at his response. He’d followed me for thirty minutes; his weaselly routine wasn’t fooling me.
I angled my arm against his windpipe. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Well which is it?” He coughed. “Do you want me to tell you what I know or do you want me to shut the fuck up?” I tightened my hold on his throat and shoved him harder against the red car. Maybe it was the past months of shit, but I really wasn’t in the mood for a smart-assed douche.
“Who sent you?” I demanded, loosening my hold just enough so he could respond. The guy smiled unctuously, revealing a set of yellowing canines.
“I think you know.” I wasn’t about to guess the answer. Guessing the answer gave him the upper hand.
“I think you’d better tell me if you want to live through tomorrow,” I said instead. The guy made a movement and I shoved him harder against the car.
“You’ll find out soon enough.” He laughed. I tightened my grip on his neck until his face purpled. I watched the light in him dim until it was almost out, then I let go and stepped back.
“Fuck,” I whispered to myself. I squeezed and then released my fingers, feeling like the world was slipping through my hands. It would have been really easy to kill that asshole, and that was the problem. When I finally got my breath back, the guy was getting into his car. I gripped my keys, feeling an urge to follow.
I think there’s a point in your life, sort of how there’s a point right before an avalanche. I could have followed him. I could have strung him up by the neck and forced him to tell me what he knew. None of that would have stopped what was about to come, though, just like suddenly holding still isn’t going to stop a deluge of ice from flattening you.
Maybe deep down I knew that.
It wasn’t fate.
What happened next didn’t have to happen.
What happened next was just going to happen, and I couldn’t stop it.
I watched smoke tumble into the dark sky as the fire burned down the building in the distance. Gray tendrils curled into the blackening indigo clouds, and it was impossible to tell what was smoke and what was cloud. It probably didn’t matter. I drew the curtains and turned back to the apartment. Lenny was sleeping off the drugs downstairs and tomorrow we’d head back up to the cabin.
At least, that’s what I thought.
I was starting to feel like a real fucking idiot.
As I descended the stairs to check inside the spare bedroom I’d put her in, I heard the sound of the kitchen oven. I didn’t know what I expected, like she would be making an omelet or some shit as if we were a regular fucking family.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I yelled, running to turn off the oven.
“Sticking my head in the oven.” Lenny shrugged and pulled her head out. Sitting against the cupboards, she continued, “Or trying to. It’s electric, so all I succeeded in doing was getting my head hot.”
I ran a palm over my face. “Jesus Christ Lenny.” I didn’t know what to do with her. I felt like I was swimming with us both through the ocean and she was desperately trying to break free so she could drown. “Is this what you want? Do you want to end your life?”
“I don’t have a life,” Lenny said blandly. “I have a life adjacent. I’m adjacent to the therapist. I’m adjacent to the psychiatrist. And I’m adjacent to you.” I leaned against the kitchen island and stared down at her. Her eyes were dead. The spark I’d grown to love was burned out. Gripping the island for life, I didn’t know how to respond. It was like the Lennox Moore I knew had already died and the one I was looking at was a zombie searching for the grave.
“Is that how you really feel, Lenny?” I asked after a few moments.
“What do you want me to say?” she said, wringing her hands out in front of herself. “I don’t exist on my own. The Lenny without pills and your say-so isn’t the Lenny you want.”
I exhaled. “That’s bullshit, Lennox.” I tried to be calm, for Lenny, but that was utter bullshit. I knew her mind played tricks on her sometimes. I knew sometimes the world she saw wasn’t the world that was out there. I knew all that, but I wasn’t going to fucking sit by and let her think that I didn’t want her.
“I want you Lennox. I don’t care how you come. Bruised or totally fucked up, I’ll want you, but that doesn’t mean I want that for you. You’ve been hurting for awhile and you were the one that wanted to see the doc. Now, if it helps to point the finger when you aren’t feeling well, then fine, but you know I’ll take you no matter what condition you’re in.”
“Yeah, right. Do you even know why I was at that hotel tonight? I think sometimes you just think I do things. Like…I don’t think things through. I just do shit to be edgy or something.”
I almost laughed when she said that. Of course I thought that. Lenny didn’t think a damn thing through. She had a thought and she just did it. She wanted to make pancakes? Fucking blueberry pancake batter everywhere at two in the morning. She wanted to go to the hotel where she was abducted? Fucking goes to the hotel.
I was still scratching my head as to how she’d gotten there.
But…maybe it hadn’t been the best idea for me to fuck her in the hotel. No, it had probably been the worst idea. If someone was going to list all the things I could have done in that situation, fucking her was probably the absolute last one. If I were to tell that story, I would not come off in the best light. I would probably sound a bit insane. Probably, the people would wonder, “What the ever-loving fuck, Vic Wall, were you thinking?”
Still, that was how it was with Lennox Moore. It was a rollercoaster. You don’t get on a rollercoaster and wonder why it went upside down. Sometime ago I’d stopped questioning it.
Maybe that was a bad thing.
“Lenny…” I walked around so I could take a seat at the kitchen bar. “Lenny you don’t know why you were at the hotel. You don’t know why you’re acting the way you are. Don’t pretend like you do.” She opened her mouth to rebut but I put my hand up. “No, the only meds you’ve been taking these past months are the wrong ones. I’m willing to bet I have a better clue what’s going on inside that head of yours than you do.”
Lennox sighed and slid her head in her hands. I expected her to yell at me, or throw something. Instead she crumbled in on herself. In the years I’d been with Lenny, I’d seen many sides to her. Most people keep their sides pretty well hidden, because they don’t know themselves enough to show them.
Fuck knows I don’t.
Lenny, though, she didn’t get the choice. Her sides came roaring to life without her consent. She had happy, she had sad, she had angry, she had mad, and she had a whole mix of in between that lit up like the goddamn bat signal. The thing was, she didn’t light them up herself. They lit up, and then a couple of hours later she’d realize it, but everyone was already there, staring, and gawking, and wondering at her.
Right then Lenny was realizing what had happened. She was realizing that the bat signal had lit up “horny” and it had really, really fucking lit up.
Lennox looked up at me, eyes shiny. “I feel like I’m trapped in a prison where the jailor is my stupid brain.” I exhaled and moved back around to sit on the floor with her. I wished I could help her. I wished I could reach in and rip her from the prison her mind had built around her. Instead, I rubbed her arms.
“I don’t understand, Vic.” Lennox looked at the floor, tears evident on her lids. In the years I’d known Lenny, she’d only cried a handful of times. Each time, she took a piece of me with her. I gripped my hands on her arms tighter, trying to rub out the pain. “Why am I like this?”
“You’re special Lenny,” I explained.
Lennox laughed brokenly. “Some kind of special.”
“You see the world differently. You feel deeply. You think bright
er than most. Unfortunately, it comes at a cost.”
“I wish I was normal,” Lenny said and leaned forward into my chest. I felt her sobs as I would a gong to my heart.
“No you don’t.” I rubbed her back. “Normal is the worst kind of prison.”
I angled the glass to the fridge and as the water poured, I let myself relax. Water filled up the crystal, its sound soothing to my ears. Lenny was finally asleep upstairs, whatever demons haunted her sleeping alongside.
For a moment, things were calm, and for a moment, I let myself be calm.
Fuck me though, right? I should have known by then that the only time I got calm is before the barrage of bullet fire. The only moments I got were to say goodbye. Things had started to feel good again, though, and I’d weakened. I’d let myself wish.
Lenny called me particular, and that was on her nice days. I liked everything in its place. Towels belonged on the rack. Dishes belonged in the cupboard and china on the display. Nothing should be out on the counter.
So why the fuck was a small black box wrapped neatly with black ribbon sitting carefully on the counter? While Lenny was doing her best impersonation of Sylvia Plath, I hadn’t noticed it. Now, though, as I pulled the nearly overflowing glass away from the spigot, it was impossible not to miss.
I carefully walked toward the counter, keeping my hand steady despite the water that wanted to spill. I didn’t need to open the box to know what it meant, but I did anyway. In the brief seconds before the wrapping fell away, I thought back to what I should have done. I should have heeded that bright red car’s warning. I should have listened to the words behind what the asshole said. I should have sent Lenny away. For a moment, though, I’d let myself be calm.
Is this when I say something about storms?
“You don’t get families either, Vic.”
When I opened the box, what I saw made me drop my water, but not because I was surprised. I’d been expecting it since the beginning. I dropped the glass because reality had finally come home. Even with all the silence and the screams, the shit and the fuckery, for the past months I’d been deluding myself. I’d let myself think there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but now my tunnel had caved in.
Come To Me (Owned Book 3) Page 9