Beautiful Things Evil People Do

by Kailee Reese Samuels

  “Are you a twenty-year-old boy?”

  “… With you?” He mischievously grins. “I’m better than a twenty-year-old boy. I bring the rain.”

  “That you do, Jynx. That you do.”

  I spend Friday night alone.

  I didn’t want to be privy to Jynx selling what I saw as our future away. I had no right to feel the way I did, but it didn’t change things. I ordered a pizza from room service, took a long bubble bath, and watched cooking shows. I considered texting him to see how things were going, but I decided to leave him be.

  I curl up in bed with a good book and know this will be the first night we’ve slept together in weeks. The truth is, distancing myself from him has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’m in love and want to spend every minute with him.

  He returns to the room after midnight. He doesn’t say a word. Not even a hello. Shutting the bathroom door, he appears a half-hour later with a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets splash against his chiseled chest as he clicks off the light on the nightstand.

  I’m reading, but I don’t complain because heaven knows we’ll meltdown.

  “Take off your clothes.”

  I set my reader on the nightstand and do as he requests. Staying under the covers, I fling my shirt and panties to the floor with a deep breath as my heart races in my chest. “Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer, ripping the sheet and blankets from the bed. Literally, he balls all of the linens and slam-dunks them into a chair across the room. “Score!”

  “Precisely.” Pulling the towel from his waist, he tosses it down. “Spread your legs.”

  “Jynx…” I mutter, scared as hell.

  “What are you doing?”

  He crawls onto the bed between my thighs and spits in his palm. “Taking your virginity.”

  “… Right now?”

  Stroking his dick, he says, “Yes.”

  “In a Phoenix hotel room?”

  “You were a very naughty girl, Echo,” he reprimands, pumping his fist around his cock. “You talk to strangers, run off all willy-nilly, and give yourself promotions without the boss’ approval. How do you intend to rectify this situation?”

  “My boss is checking out.”

  “No,” he mutters, gently lowering on top of me. “Your boss is checking in.”

  Our lips narrow, exchanging warm breaths and daring fate for more. We’re on the cusp, a tranquil abyss, where soaring together seems like an elusive dream. He begs for my trust, promising that he will not let me fall. Hot kisses send waves of fiery carnal lust through my skin. His determined mating ritual shifts from playboy to primal. We aren’t engaging in courting games. This is real.

  He is a man.

  And he wants to claim me as his woman.

  I finally break away and ask, “What are you doing?”

  “Fucking you.”

  “What happened?” I breathlessly whisper.

  “I signed the deal to transfer the employees to Dower and agreed to help with the initial training and integration. I will be in Phoenix for six weeks,” he mumbles, nuzzling my neck. “And I called Deacon and told him to hold Houston because Peacock Consulting, my solo endeavor, will be moving in by October.”

  Every inch of my body turns numb in the clandestine meeting. “… You let go and kept yourself?”

  “I let the parts I didn’t truly want, go,” he informs as his taut body rolls against mine. “I never wanted thousands of employees under my umbrella and looking to me for guidance, but what my father did was wrong.”

  “You didn’t want them treated bad.”

  “Right,” he confirms, suckling my breast. My body melts to his, betraying my mind, making me delirious with want. “And I could use a coach,” he teases, rubbing my nipples. “That is, if you’re willing to accept my job offer. All you have to do is sign your name on my dick.”

  I tease, “This is harassment, Jynx.”

  “Oh, I’m well aware,” he replies, rubbing the head of his cock along my slit. “Coercion. Bribery. Extortion of bodily fluids.”

  “You’re really moving to Houston?”

  “Yes,” he maintains, slicking on the seam. “And you’re coming with me.”

  Holy crap.

  This is happening.

  “You’re not going to fuck me.”

  Resting his tongue on his lip, he quickly arches his brow. “How do you know that?”

  “Because it would be the end.”

  “You think the ending is determined by our making love?” he questions with a hint of machismo. His intimidating confidence overwhelms me. I stare into his eyes, drenched with blue, as his soul soaks into mine. “You’re still not believing anything that happens after the blow. Who is the hit it and quit it here?”

  “I don’t deserve any of this, Jynx,” I implore, crying and digging my nails into his guns. “Everything about you is surreal. You’re a fantasy, a dream, a thing of make believe. This isn’t romance. I put up an ad. You stalked and lured me into your world to try and save me.”

  His fingers caress the side of my cheek. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Echo.”

  “After all of this time, you missed one thing—I won’t ever heal.”

  His mouth hits mine with an unexpected ferocity as his tongue commands my attention. I cannot escape his draw, yet I know I should pack my things and run out the door. I should leave and never look back because nothing but heartache waits at the end of this journey.

  His fingers hold mine as he slowly lifts my arms and places a stronghold on my wrists with one of his hands. He skirts the other one low, between our bodies, guiding his cock toward my opening.

  “You seem to have forgotten one key critical point on your timeline, Abigail. I fell in love with you.”

  His aggressive thrust impales his cock into my hollow puddle with the force of a cannon firing. I scream from the searing pain radiating through my body. “Jynx!”

  “Yes?” He smugly grins.

  “Don’t move!”

  A proud glaze shields over his eyes, guarding his spirit from anything I could throw at him. I am helpless—captured by his body and tortured by his heart. And as much as I don’t want to be, I’ve become his willing victim, begging for more of his provocative, endless Dominance.

  He smirks, gloating in his success. “I don’t plan on it, Sweet Pea.”

  Tears band on my lashes as I finally understand the difference between what I can do with fake plastic in my hand versus a real man—he has a mind of his own, moves when he wants, and reacts to the shallow subtle changes in my exploits.

  “I cannot believe you’re doing this,” I mumble.

  “I warned you that I was going to; it isn’t my fault you didn’t believe me.”

  “But you’re inside of me…” I moan, startled by the painful intrusion. “Why now?”

  “Because I need you, Echo.”

  My pussy stretches to accommodate the grand length and profound girth of his cock as he slowly moves with short strokes. “Shit…”

  “Yeah,” he acknowledges, grazing his lips and tongue from my neck to my collar bone. “We could be so good, Ek.”

  “I never wanted to fall in love,” I cry out as he relentlessly pushes the boundary with deep throbbing strides. “You’re stealing what was never yours to take.”

  “This isn’t rape.”

  “No, you son of a bitch, this is an assault of my heart!” I wrestle beneath his weight, no longer fearing what is below the belt but what lies within his chest cavity. “Fuck you! Fuck you for turning this into something it was never supposed to be!”

  “We’re doing this.”

  “You can stick your dick in me and profess all the love in the world, it doesn’t mean I will stay.”

  He scoops my body into his arms and lifts as I sit up with my legs straddling around him. His penetration swells into the chasm of my gut, and my eyes roll. He laughs. “You may not embrace the love, but you’re damn sure getting my dick. Stop wor
rying about the future and feel me in the present.”

  There is no choice.

  Jynx Monroe is a well-endowed asshole who knows how to wield his tool and manipulate the game in his favor. I will never be victorious in his presence. I will never vanish from the ghosts of the past as they haunt every minute of my life.

  There is no beauty in the future, only ghastly reminders of my unforgivable prior mistakes. I have fleeting moments where I believe happiness exists for me, but those delusions fade like shadows in the sun.

  I will never be whole.

  He broke me long before Jynx.

  And it’s only a matter of time before I take flight.

  Jynx

  “Stop thinking.”

  “I can’t,” she whines in my arms as I thrust from below. “This isn’t leading anywhere.”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Yes, but…”

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Don’t yell at me!” she shouts as heartbreak floods every nerve ending.

  “There are no buts here, Echo,” I mutter, holding her close without moving. “You either trust me or you don’t.”

  “I want to, Jynx.”

  “Take it,” I encourage with a stern stare. “Use my body like you do your toys when you’re watching those videos. Don’t think. Fuck me like a machine.”

  “I can’t do this!”

  “Goddammit! Yes, you can! Claim what is rightfully yours!”

  “You aren’t mine!” she argues, struggling to flee as I tighten my grasp. “You never were!”

  “Yes, I am!” I furrow my brow. “You aren’t getting away. We are fucking. You are fucking me.”

  “You don’t understand!” she screams, pounding on my chest. “Colton killed himself because of me.” She hysterically sobs in my arms. “I went to a graduation party that I never should’ve been at. I had too much to drink and he walked in as his friends and I were about to…”

  “Abby…what?”

  “We were about to have sex.”

  “You and…”

  “Me and five other guys.” Her words punch with unexpected jabs. “Colton stopped them, but not before he accused me of causing all of it.”

  I don’t know what to say as my eyes peer down. In an almost out of body experience, I see our entanglement, woven—stitched—together, but fraying from everywhere. Saving this night means nothing because this was never about sex. Her heart is hemorrhaging from a night that went bad.

  “Did you…”

  “I chased that boy for four fucking years, but he never showed any interest. That’s why I had never been kissed until you came along. That’s why I never did anything. I made one move and it ended with a fucking funeral and hundreds of grieving kids and parents. I caused Colton’s death! Me! Because I pushed too far!”

  Slowly, I tilt upward and stare at her reddened cheeks and hazel eyes. “Did you do it? Was he right? Did you lure the boys, taunt them to the point that there was no other choice? Were you going to have a gang bang like the violent shit you get off online to?”

  She weeps, “Fuck you!”

  “Admit it! Stop hiding like it isn’t something you crave! Stop pretending a dirty little girl doesn’t exist in you!” I yell as she attempts to push me away with her forearms. “I see the way you look at me! I hear the way you call me Daddy!”

  “Please don’t do this!”

  I stand firm—a force to be reckoned with—knowing if the scab is never picked from the wound, it will only continue to manifest, infecting her heart. She needs to bleed. And God help me, I will be man enough to take the hate she brings in her sorrow. “Tell me the fucking truth!”

  “Why should I, when you’ve already passed judgement on me?”

  “Say it!”

  “Yes!” she howls, admitting her part in the foray. “I got drunk, flirted, and made sure I had all of his best friends in the room to have their way with me so he could see what he was losing out on. I wanted to make him jealous! So he would know and feel guilty! I wanted him to save me!”

  “Just like you wanted your rapist to do,” I rebuke, shaking my head. “But the next day…”

  “He killed himself!”

  My jaw pops as I brush my fingers over her arm. “You played a bad fucking card in puppy love. The only question that needs answering is which one will you play now in real love? Are you brave enough to heal? Or are we too far gone?”

  “He never showed any romantic interest,” she wails, holding onto my arms. “I thought it was unrequited. I thought we would never be anything more than friends. I didn’t know he was saving it all for me until after college. His parents found the notebooks and his sister told me about them. She blamed me! His parents blamed me! Everyone at school blamed me!”

  “You didn’t kill Colton,” I firmly contend, slightly disoriented by her previous actions. Her demons chase me with a vengeance—she manipulated my kind to win another, but it’s in the past, I repeatedly say to myself. I bargain. I make deals with the devil. I pray. And I hold on until the bitter end as I struggle, fighting for her and all that I believe we have in this love together. “Colton killed Colton. Not you. You did not kill that boy!”

  “My deceptive plot to get his attention forced his hand,” she mumbles, curling into my chest. With my hands secured to her back, I feel her ragged breaths and drumming heartbeat. Exhaustion takes a heavy toll, leaving me weary from her war that I never should’ve been involved with—I was a soldier, volunteering to do battle for a girl with a pledge to defy consent. “I wanted to be attacked to take the punishment I deserved.”

  I shake my head and scowl with hurt. “And you couldn’t have told me this weeks ago?”

  “You would’ve ended up hating me.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong,” I whisper as my eyes fill with tears. “I was never going to leave you—ever. You want to believe I am only here for this, but that’s not who I am. And I don’t think for one second that you’re the girl online.”

  “But I am,” she cries with an agony that I don’t know how to repair. There is too much blood; she’s bleeding out. And every time I put pressure on one flesh wound, another one gushes. “I did it. All of it.”

  “You were young and naive,” I stupidly excuse as the pulse flatlines. Laying my hand on her shoulder, I lie, “It’s okay, Echo.”

  My heart ticks, rattling with self-condemnation—I was old enough to know better than to get involved with someone fifteen years my junior—as I set her aside and my cock falls out. And I fall from grace, the same delinquent I always was—disobedient and offensive.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Taking a timeout,” I mutter, scratching my head. “You aren’t ready for any of this. You aren’t ready to forgive yourself. You aren’t ready for love. You aren’t ready for me.”

  Our brief but illicit affair scars my soul at the time of death.

  Her love was infectious, and I’m contaminated.

  And once again, I become a phantom hiding in the pitch black of the night waiting on the unsuspecting.

  28

  There Is No Way

  Echo

  In the chair, I read the ad, which led to all of this. The words brought out a monster of a man trying to protect me with his gentleman.

  And that was what Jynx was.

  He didn’t portray the real version of himself with me, but acted the role of a knight in shining armor to prevent from hurting me.

  Why did he do it? I’ll never know.

  He stripped off the shield of his dickhead costume, showing a side that I imagined few had ever seen.

  Raw. Bare. Free.

  I blink at the man face down on the bed with his head buried in a pillow, inked and scarred and broken beyond comprehension.

  With heavy tears in my eyes, I pack my things. I will never flee his kingdom. His reign. His rule. And I must make a run for it while I can—before we become something neither of us ever intended to be.

  He
isn’t a gentleman.

  And I am not a submissive.

  I slip out the door with my adrenaline pumping. I cannot stop crying as I hail a cab and leave the hotel and Jynx Monroe behind. I cannot rent a car, but if I book a flight, he will wind up at the airport before I take off. And I will end up right back where it all began—at his feet, pleading for more.

  The cab drops me off at the bus terminal, and I book the next one leaving for LA. I’m on the highway in a crowded vehicle with kids crying and people talking entirely too loud in less than an hour after leaving him. I cannot feel anything.

  I got out.

  I left my captor.

  I turn off my shared location and block his number on my phone. Putting my headphones in my ears, I lay my head against the window and uncontrollably sob. An older woman with missing teeth and blue hair sits beside me. She offers to hold my hand.

  I refuse to take it.

  Don’t touch me.

  I hurt people.

  I’m an evil, wretched soul meant to destroy everyone I encounter. I killed Colton. I cursed those boys in the room with a lifetime of guilt. I used Jynx for my manipulations, attempting to get out of the place I reside in. I used him—a would-be criminal to upend my creed. I never planned on a fearless, protective monster.

  Nothing helps. Nothing heals.

  There is no solution.

  There is no easy answer.

  So I run away.

  I book a flight from LA to San Francisco and text Selia, “Can you come pick me up at the airport? I left J.”

  “What do you mean you left him? Why?”

  I cannot talk to her about it right now, or I will end up on the floor of the bus, convulsing, unable to breathe because I’ll be screaming like a siren.

  I left him.

  God, I cannot believe I walked out.

  The blue-haired Grandma places her hand on my lap. Her wrinkled face turns to me, and I notice the crow’s feet surrounding her blue eyes. They’re the same color as his. I latch my fingers with hers, and I bawl my eyes out on her shoulder.