Recoil

by Max Henry

  “Can’t I?” He beckoned to her. “Come ‘ere.”

  A grin halved her face as she leant forward, pressing her arms into the sides of her chest to make the gravity defying tits larger.

  He smiled, amused to see her lick her lips in anticipation, and lean in for the kill. Pistol chuckled, and slapped her square across the face. He wasn’t usually one for violence towards women, but fuck, this bitch had it coming. He’d been too young back then to do much more than sulk away with his tail between his legs.

  Now though, he had some making up to do.

  “Fuck, Pete,” she cried out, clutching her cheek.

  “Sorry, Love. I’ve been drinking. Ya can’t blame me.”

  She hissed at him, and tossed a surprisingly easy-to-find key on the counter. “Here. Now fuck off before I call me boyfriend to come take one at ya.”

  “Jesus, he’s a lucky man.”

  “Fuck you, Pete.”

  “Not if you were the last woman on this forsaken planet.”

  She huffed, and stormed away to the back room, slamming the door firmly behind her. He chuckled to himself as he exited the reception, and crossed the car park to the couple that were about two seconds away from finishing on the spot.

  “I’ve got the key when ya finished there,” he called out as he passed them by.

  The low timbre of Trevor’s voice preceded a high-pitched giggle, and before he could bat an eye, a topless girl dashed past him chased hot on the heels by Trevor. The big guy slowed after a few paces, and ambled after the giggling woman. Seemed she wasn’t quite as much of a distraction to his back as he’d hoped, huh?

  “Do I need to go for another walk?” he asked as he caught up to Trevor.

  “Stick around if you want. You know I don’t care if you’re in the room.”

  “Aye, but she might.”

  Trevor looked over, his lip curled at one corner. “You know, there was a time you would have joined in.”

  “I have Steph now, remember.”

  “I know. And I admire you for being so good to her when there’s nothing but temptation around.” Trevor nodded toward the reception.

  “You knew she was here, huh?”

  “Might have, but I trusted you.” He laughed, and turned to scoop up the half-naked girl before him. “Let’s get you inside, huh?”

  She giggled while Pistol slotted the key in the door, and pushed it open. The lights flicked on by sensor. Trevor promptly slapped them off again as he crossed the threshold.

  Pistol made his way across the room to the small kitchen facilities, and filled the kettle with water. He set it to boil, and headed for the bathroom. Giggles, and moans pierced the silent night as he pushed the door shut behind him, and took a seat on the edge of the tub. He pulled his phone out, and fired a quick text to Steph.

  HEY, LOVE. ONLY TWO DAYS.

  Fuck he sounded like a sap. But for the right woman, he would have composed poetry. What man in his right mind wouldn’t want to make his girl feel special?

  HEY, BABY. I KNOW XX I’VE BEEN COUNTING IT OUT, TOO.

  WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

  FILING A NAT 1055.

  GOD I LOVE IT WHEN YOU TALK SEXY.

  LOL. WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

  LISTENING TO TREVOR FUCK A GIRL STUPID. WISH IT WERE US.

  IT WILL BE, SOON. DOES HE NOT CARE YOU’RE THERE?

  NO.

  VOYEURISM. THAT’S KIND OF HOT.

  IS THAT SO? HE’S COMING BACK WITH ME. DO I NEED TO LAY DOWN SOME GROUND RULES?

  LOL. NOT YET … BESIDES, HE DID HEAR US THAT TIME.

  NOW YOU’RE GETTING ME HORNY THINKING ABOUT THAT NIGHT.

  DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW AWKWARD IT IS TO BE TURNED ON AT WORK?

  ENLIGHTEN ME.

  I’M IN THE LADIES NOW…

  TOUCH YOURSELF FOR ME.

  TOO LATE.

  Jesus. The woman would be the death of him. Combine her texts with the symphony of sounds coming from the other room, and he was fit to burst.

  I CAN’T WAIT TO TASTE YOU, RUN MY TONGUE UP YOUR CUNT WHILE YOU SCREAM MY NAME.

  FUCK, BABY. I THINK YOU’LL BE HEARING ME SCREAM FROM ALL THE WAY OVER THERE SOON.

  DON’T BE SHY. BE SURE TO RUB THAT SWEET CLIT OF YOURS WHILE YOUR FINGERS ARE BURIED DEEP.

  I HAVE TO PUT THE PHONE DOWN.

  He sat on the side of the tub, stroking his erection as he watched his phone. Every second she didn’t send another message was another second he grew closer to his release. Imagining her playing with her pussy, trying to keep her moans quiet while she brought her self to the brink … damn.

  Pistol closed his eyes, and used the sound of Trevor and the blonde in the next room to add life to his fantasy playing out in his head. He pictured Steph beneath him, her tits bouncing from the hammering he gave her.

  Shit.

  Warm release spurted from the tip of his throbbing erection, bringing with it a sweet, euphoric relief. For the briefest of seconds he managed to catch a glimpse at how good it would feel to be with Steph again. If it felt that good with his hand and a vivid imagination, then fuck, it would be epic with her cunt wrapped around him

  His phone vibrated, and he quickly washed himself off before answering.

  I FEEL A LITTLE BETTER, BUT IT’S STILL NOTHING COMPARED TO WHEN YOU GET HOME. XO

  I KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN. I FEEL A LITTLE BETTER AS WELL.

  *FANS HERSELF* CAN I TELL YOU A SECRET?

  OF COURSE.

  PROMISE YOU WON’T GET MAD.

  NOW YOU’RE WORRYING ME.

  I PICTURED TREVOR WATCHING US WHEN I GOT OFF.

  Fuck. Steph better hold on when he got home. It was on.

  Steph stepped from the shower and wrapped a towel around her body. She’d woken with the text conversation with Pete on her mind. Certain it had to be some twisted fantasy dream, she’d immediately checked her phone before getting out of bed. And lo and behold, there was the message thread, in its entirety. Although her cheeks had flushed with shame, she’d been a little turned on—again.

  Maybe she was horny. It had been a while since Pete had taken care of her in the physical sense. But then again, the thought of Trevor in the room while Pete took her was seriously hot. What was she thinking admitting it to Pete, though? He said Trevor didn’t care about having company, but nothing about if the reverse were true.

  What if she’d stuffed up entirely? Pete hadn’t responded after her final message. Oh God. She was ill. She had to call, or message, or something.

  Steph dried off, and hung the towel up. She forced herself to brush her teeth before she rushed out to the phone, but made quick work of it all the same. Dismissing clothes for the time being, she snatched up her phone. Her heart seized in her chest at he message icon in the top bar. Good, bad, indifferent? She was about to find out exactly how he felt.

  STILL THINKING ABOUT TREVOR WATCHING YOU?

  Bastard had her snared on that one. Without knowing his true feelings about it, she was about to either shoot herself in the foot, or miss out on an entirely new experience when the boys got home.

  THINKING ABOUT YOU.

  There. She wasn’t lying, but she hadn’t discounted Trevor either.

  I TALKED TO TREVOR LAST NIGHT AFTER HE’D FINISHED WITH THE GIRL (OF COURSE). HE’S KEEN TO HELP YOU TICK THAT ONE OF YOUR BUCKET LIST.

  Her stomach simultaneously hit the floor as her thighs moistened. Far out.

  YOU’RE PLAYING WITH ME, RIGHT?

  I WISH.

  PETE …

  STEPH …

  I DON’T WANT TO MAKE THINGS AWKWARD.

  IT’D BE AWKWARD IF YOU DIDN’T TAKE ME UP ON IT. IMAGINE HOW TREVOR WOULD FEEL … ALL REJECTED LIKE THAT.

  HA HA.

  I’M SERIOUS. HE’S EXTREMELY SENSITIVE.

  I’M NERVOUS NOW.

  SO YOU SHOULD BE. WE WERE QUITE THE TEAM ONCE. BUT HE’S ONLY WATCHING—NO TOUCHING. UNDERSTAND?

  Once? Hang on a golden minute …

  YOU’VE HAD
THREESOMES WITH HIM BEFORE?

  A FEW TIMES. YEAH.

  HOW DID I NOT KNOW?

  YOU NEVER ASKED.

  She stared at the phone in her hand, insanely turned on at the thought, but as nervous as a student at a public speaking symposium. He bet her reply with another message.

  YOU’RE TURNED ON, AREN’T YOU?

  MAYBE A LITTLE.

  I CAN TELL.

  HOW?

  YOU GET SHY WHEN YOU’RE HORNY.

  Oh my God. She so did.

  Now that was a hot vision. She needed to find her vibrator before she left for work.

  LOVE YOU. MR O’MALLEY.

  LOVE YOU MORE.

  She dropped the phone on her bed, and sighed. Pete, and Trevor used to share, huh? Steph opened the wardrobe to get a dress for work, but bypassed the railing to reach for the shelf instead.

  She had an itch to scratch before she could expect herself to think straight for longer than ten minutes at a time.

  ***

  “What’s got you looking so happy?” Marcus smiled as he walked up to where she’d parked the rod in the car park.

  My boyfriend is home in a day, he’s admitted to several threesomes with his hot friend, and I got myself off twice before work on the thought of it.

  “Not much. I get to see Pete soon.”

  “He's coming home, then?”

  “Yep. His flight leaves first thing in the morning for him, which is this afternoon for us.”

  “Where is he?”

  “Ireland.”

  Marcus lifted a hand to his throat, and went all dreamy eyed. “Damn. A whole country of hotties like him. The mind boggles.”

  “I don’t think they’re all the same, Marcus. It isn’t some factory line.” Steph giggled.

  “You sure? Imagine if it was though.”

  “You need to get laid.”

  “I’m open to offers.” Marcus smiled as he pulled open the door.

  “I can’t help you with that, remember?”

  “I wasn’t talking about you.” He winked, and headed for their cubicles.

  Steph rounded the low wall, and tossed her bag under the seat. Was this honestly her life? A week ago she’d been on the brink of self-destruction, about to implode. And now here she was, smiling, laughing, and looking forward to the days to come.

  And still, no sign of a relapse on the horizon.

  Maybe she had finally found the thing that would bring her happiness for the rest of her life. Maybe a broken man, with less than desirable habits when it came to family reunions could be the guy to take care of her until her final days?

  The idea wasn’t so far-fetched was it?

  She dropped into the seat, and picked up the phone. One last person to check in with, and then her planner was clear. Smooth sailing until Pete touched down. She dialled the number by heart, and waited for Ben to pick up.

  “Heya, Sis. Good timing. You caught me before I started the car again.”

  “Getting your morning coffee?”

  “That I am. How you been? Dad said you left the funeral early last week, but that he’d talked to you since then and you were doing well.”

  “Yeah, I am. This week’s given me a lot of time to think. As hard as it’s been, I think it’s been good to have a break from Pete so I can nut stuff out.”

  “Glad to hear it. Hold on and I’ll transfer you to the Bluetooth.”

  She listened to the rustle, and click as he hitched the phone up. The engine kicked to life in the background.

  “I see you’re back at work by the number that came up.”

  “Needed something to keep my mind occupied.”

  “Fair enough. Have you spoken to Derek?”

  Her chest tightened. “Should I have?”

  “Not so much. He mentioned to Dad that he hasn’t heard from Ivan. Thinks the guy’s done a runner after all the crap that’s gone down.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thought you’d know about that.”

  “Not really. Where you working today?”

  “Bunch of houses on the south side. Judging by the blue sky we’ve got, I’ll be wishing I was in your air-conditioning by smoko.”

  “And I’ll be wishing I was out in the fresh air.”

  “First world problems, huh?”

  She laughed. “Exactly. Hey, I thought I might organize something for this weekend. Have a proper get together so you guys can meet Pete properly.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  “I’ll text you the details after I talk with Dad.”

  “Sure thing. Have a good one.”

  “Bye.” Steph replaced the handset, and leant back in her chair.

  So Ivan had done a runner huh? Or so everyone assumed. Suited her fine. He was out f her life, and nothing for her to worry about anymore. Could the day get any better?

  “How the fuck did ya manage that?”

  Murray winked at him.

  Pistol stood with both hands on his head, disbelieving at the sight before him. Somehow, Murray had managed to get one of the ropes that linked his arms together over the top of Carol’s head, and had choked her to death in the course of the night.

  “What would you do if ya were left tied to that all night?” Murray still sat awkwardly with his arms bent high behind his back, looped over her limp corpse.

  Trevor chuckled from the corner of the room.

  “Agh, speeds things up I guess.”

  “I thought you would have been more disappointed,” Murray questioned. “Your heart not in it, boy?”

  “I’ve got other priorities in me life, now.”

  Murray grinned. “I thought you’d found yerself a girl.” He nodded knowingly.

  “Not that you’ll ever meet her.”

  “Wouldn’t want to spoil her for ya.” He winked again, somewhat more disturbingly.

  Pistol sighed, and looked to Trevor. “How’s your back?”

  The big guy had spent the better part of the night fucking the blonde. He was surprised the man could walk this morning.

  “Bad.”

  “Aye. I bet.”

  Small problem with Trevor’s night time antics—he was now dog tired to boot. He stared at his parents, and sighed again. What a predicament. He had two bodies to move, and no motivation to do it. Let alone any get-up-and-go to do anything more than shoot the fucker in the head.

  In a way, Murray’s little stunt had given him an out. He intended to make them suffer, to give them pain for what they’d done. But having witnessed the sorry state the two of them were in at the tail end of their lives, he’d come to the conclusion that they’d suffered enough-albeit quietly.

  His mother was a withered junkie, spending her days henpecking for her next hit. The woman couldn’t have reached any further bottom if he’d dug the ground out from underneath her. Murray had done her a great service by putting her out of her misery. At her age, she’d be dead from a dose, or a heart attack when she went too long between hits anyway.

  And Murray. The man was scared. Terrified every person he met would be the one to cross him, and take him out, all for his castle of cards. The man sat atop a precarious empire, ready to fold at any moment.

  Pistol was past it. He was over them. Over the grief they gave him. Over the trouble their existence caused. He’d lost any desire to seek revenge, but found the desperate need to finish this chapter of his life. What started out as a rage-fuelled mission, was now no more then simple house-keeping duties.

  He wanted nothing but to move on, and start afresh with Steph.

  He wanted to be Pete.

  He looked across to Trevor again, and scratched the back of his neck. “Does that car have an anti-syphon thingummy?”

  “Don’t think so. It’s pretty old.”

  “Good. There anything around here we can use to get some out?”

  Murray’s eyes flicked between the two as they conversed.

  “I think so. Let me go outside and have a look about.”

&nb
sp; “Aye, thanks.”

  Trevor left the room, slowly, and headed outdoors to search for a hose or the like.

  Pistol turned back to Murray, and drew a deep breath. The man looked at him like a dog resigned to its fate. He knew he was about to be put down at the hand of his stepson, and he’d made peace with it. The calm was there in his eyes.

  “Anything to say before we do this?”

  “Make it count.”

  “Aye.”

  Pistol pulled the Glock from the band of his jeans, and aimed it at the old guy. “I hope ya find peace.”

  The shot echoed in the room, leaving a slight ring in his ears. He sighed and tossed the gun next to the bodies. The deed was done. He’d reached the end.

  He could have cried at the relief. Fuck it, he was crying. Lonely tears leaked from the corners of his eyes as he sat in the sole armchair, and eyed the two of them.

  He recognised the tug of grief, but not at the loss of his parents. Rather at the loss of a childhood he’d never get to do over. All his bitterness could be traced back to the one feeling of being cheated of his God-given right as a human being—to have a fucking childhood. To play with his friends, and laugh with his sibling. To share stories, and hugs with his mother, and go fishing with his father.

  But two lost souls had come together, and collectively robbed him of that chance. Two people who were never meant to be had unknowingly, or maybe knowingly, deflected their misery onto their children. Onto the kids who should have been the things that brought light, and purpose back into their lives.

  Trevor stepped through the door, and nodded as he took in the scene. He held up a couple of weathered beer bottles. “I managed to get you a bit.”

  “Thanks for that.”

  “Ready?”

  “Born to do it.” He honestly felt that way, as though he’d been put on this earth for the sole purpose of removing two people who should never have been here to begin with.

  Trevor handed him a bottle, and the two of them doused the bodies, and the surrounding floor, and furniture with petrol. He took a step back, and looked to the ceiling.

  “For you, brother.” Pistol drew a cross over his chest, and nodded to Trevor.

  The big guy caught the lighter Pistol tossed his way, and squatted down to place a flame to the liquid.

  Flames licked along the trail, and over the bodies.