Clinging to Rapture

by Megan D. Martin

  “I’m sorry, Kevin. So sorry. Please.” And I meant those words. After I caught him here in his apartment two days ago with his cock inside a stripper, I’d been lost. I knew he cheated, but I’d never seen it first hand. So I set out to hurt him, and his best friend was the best candidate. I knew he wanted me, and I would have him. I would show Kevin he wasn’t the only one who could inflict hurt.

  “You’re sorry?” He turned and punched the closest wall. Blood smeared against the fresh hole in the plaster. “Fuck, Julia.” He ran a hand over his head. That’s when I saw them, the tears.

  “Yes,” I whispered and looked away not wanting to see his pain. He didn’t care when I cried, he didn’t even stop fucking that girl when I caught him.

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be.” He dropped down on top of me just as I tried to scramble backward. His fist connected with my jaw, sending my head to the side. Pain exploded in my cheek. Another blow landed in my neck, making me cough and sputter. A coppery flavor coated my tongue.

  “Why do you make me do this to you, Julia?” He pressed his nose against the side of my face and inhaled. “Why do you make me hurt you?”

  I almost sighed. It would be over now. He hit me, he got it out of his system. He would hold me now.

  He leaned back and I looked up at him. His face hadn’t softened like I thought it would, like it usually did. Instead he looked angrier. His face a flat unemotional mask.

  “Kev—”

  His fist slammed into my abdomen hard, followed by his other one. “I didn’t want to do this to you, Julia. But this time, I won’t be able to fucking stop.” The mask moved for a moment and I saw it there behind his eyes. Sadness. He didn’t want to do this to me, but he was resigned to it, he felt he didn’t have a choice. And that’s when I knew he was going to kill me.

  The memory vanished and I was jolted back to the present as my body twisted, seemingly of its own will, trying to get away from the attacker. The hand on my face slipped away, but the grip on my hair didn’t release; it held firm and I cried out as I tried to pull away.

  “You’re not going anywhere, you little bitch.” He tried to grab my face again with the hand that held the knife.

  “Fuck you!” I shouted and deflected the hand. I brought my foot down and stomped right on his instep. He groaned and his grip on my hair loosened for just a few seconds.

  It was enough. I twisted my body again, dislodging his hand along with a bunch of my hair. I didn’t even register the pain of it as I sprinted away from him. He was in between me and the back of the building so I headed straight for my car. I realized with some surprise that I was still clutching my keys.

  If I can just get to the car, I’ll be okay.

  My legs burned as I sprinted faster through the darkness. I was almost there. My car was only a few yards away when the pounding of feet behind me closed in. A big hand grabbed my elbow. I didn’t waste any time. I spun around, surprised to see part of my attacker’s face revealed in the dim moonlight. Dark hair fell across his face, a straight jaw, but that’s all I could make out.

  “You’re not getting away from me that easily, you bitch.”

  I kicked my foot forward, trying to catch him in the groin, but he dodged my foot and grasped it with his free hand, which threw me off balance. He released my elbow and jerked my ankle forward, making my body pitch backward. My ass slammed into the concrete. I tried force myself up with my elbows, but he continued pulling on my foot until he was dragging me toward the open, overgrown field behind the gas station.

  “No!” I shouted. “No, no, no!” I bucked hard, trying to dislodge my foot. “Let me go!”

  He did, but before I could move an inch he was on top of me, pressing me down on the blacktop. Rocks dug into my back painfully.

  “I told you to shut the fuck up!” he shouted in my face.

  Something sharp dug into my neck, slicing from one side to the other, followed by sickening popping sound, an explosion of pain. My mind hazed over and I fought with all of my might, kicking and scratching. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. The pain overwhelmed me and I became apart from the struggle, almost as if I was watching it all with someone else’s eyes.

  I couldn’t feel anything anymore, nothing besides the scorching liquid pouring out of my neck. It burned my skin and drenched my shirt. For a moment, while I fought, I considered what the liquid could be. Nothing had ever felt so hot in all my life. I knew what it was, but my mind didn’t want to acknowledge it was blood, my blood, pouring out of me in great spurts.

  He leaned back, looking down on me. There was blood on his face. He gritted his teeth and I could see they were grimy, like he hadn’t brushed them in a long while. A strange flat scar ran across both of his lips.

  “I wanted to have more fun with you. They told me I could, but you’ve gone and fucked it up.” He jumped suddenly and looked behind him, as if he heard something. I didn’t hear anything, in fact it was getting harder and harder to hear him, his words sounded far away. My mouth tasted like it was full of pennies, dry and wet all at the same time. The taste sour. So thirsty.

  I wondered why he wasn’t trying to deflect my blows anymore, but then I realized my arms were limp, lifeless at my sides. I tried to move one, but only the ends of my fingers twitched.

  “Fuck,” he muttered and glanced back down at me. He reached forward. I didn’t even flinch as he pulled something out of my neck. I wanted to frown at the object, but my face was numb. The moonlight caught on the blood-coated blade of a knife. My blood. “They really wanted you to suffer, but it looks like that ain’t gonna happen. Love sure does fuck shit up, don’t it?” He grinned down at me. The faint scar on his lips whitened in the dim light. “It’s too bad, you’re a pretty little thang.” He raked the knife against my shirt, cleaning it. I wanted to punch him, to shove that knife right in his heart. I wanted to ask him a hundred questions.

  Who wants me dead? Why would you do this? Why?

  But I didn’t get to do any of those things. Instead I laid there on the dirty pavement behind the gas station, bleeding out as my attacker walked away.

  SEVEN.

  One year and eight months ago

  The bath water was warm, surrounding me in the enormous tub. I could hear feminine laughter outside the bathroom door. It bubbled sweetly like the water.

  Randy thought it would be a good idea to have women over. To indulge in play-time like we used to before I laid eyes on Julia Collette some four months ago. It wasn’t working though. And I was taking my time in the tub. I didn’t even like baths. They were pointless, sitting in a tub full of water when it was easier to take a shower, but here I was lounging about as if this was something I did all the time.

  “Ya almost done in there, man? The ladies are getting antsy,” Randy said through the door.

  I stared at the dark paneled wood and ran a hand through my hair. I could remember when my fingers itched for the feel of a new woman’s skin against them. I would spend the day working, yet wondering what kind of woman would warm my bed that night. Would she be exotic, with dark hair and smoke colored eyes? Playboy-esque with bright blond hair and eyes like crystals? I would get my work done, but I would obsess over the mystery woman I’d end up fucking.

  I swished my hand through the water. I’d never noticed, not until I’d broken things off with Elaine and began watching Julia, just how trivial those moments buried inside a stranger were. I didn’t want that. The mystery didn’t appeal to me anymore. One would think I would go back to the woman I fell in love with in high school, but I didn’t want her either.

  I wanted Julia. The blue-haired stripper who fucked for money. My cock jerked under the water swelling at the thought of her name. If I thought my obsession with her would go away, I was wrong. Dead wrong. Every day that passed, I wanted her more. It was impossible for me to stay away from her.

  “Oh, Randy!” a high pitched-voice squealed outside the bathroom.

  Someone bange
d on the door, harder this time. “Cole, fucking come on. This is the only day off ya given me all week!” Randy growled.

  “Fuck them both!” I shouted back. “They’re all yours.” The women he brought home were hot. Local chicks from some club he hit up since I’d given him the night off. He’d wanted me to go. I hadn’t. Instead I’d stayed here, up in the penthouse of a five star hotel brooding about Julia.

  “Fuck it. You’re the one missing out.” Footsteps echoed and the giggling moved farther away. He’s taking them to his room. Still time to stop him.

  I didn’t. Instead I continued to sit in the tub and stare at the expensive gold wrought faucet near my feet.

  Rich, successful men didn’t close up in their rooms and cry over a woman. Though crying had been the last thing I’d been doing. I’d been trying to figure her out. There was more to her, I knew there was. Keeping watch over her the last four months had proved that and more. There was something hidden behind her blue eyes that spoke to me on a level I’d never experienced before.

  I wiped my hand off on a towel and grabbed my phone from the little table next to the tub. I told myself I wouldn’t tonight. I wouldn’t use her like she was some dumb whore I Googled on the internet, but tonight, like most nights, I couldn’t seem to help myself.

  With a few flicks of my fingertips I had her there before me. Her thick, luscious body bent over the tail end of a truck. This was a picture from last month’s Rapture X party. The theme: Redneck Lovers. I’d balked at the idea. Who wanted to see a couple of rednecks fuck? But I was wrong. If Julia was the redneck, I would fuck her every night for the rest of my life.

  She wore tiny little blue jean shorts that were dirty, ripped all along the edges, scraps of thread hanging down, barely covering her tan ass cheeks that bounced as she walked. The tiny stars and bars top she wore barely covered her fat breasts. Her long hair was braided and she wore a baseball cap.

  She was the sexiest thing I had ever seen. I hadn’t planned to go, as the other times had made me completely mad with jealousy. The last one had been so bad that both Randy and Leon had to hold me back from doing something stupid, like murder Victor Marlin right there in front of everyone. But I didn’t stay away. I had to see. Not being there was almost worse.

  I wasn’t the one who took the pictures of her. I hired a guy for that, but now I had them all on my phone. I’d paid him extra to edit Victor out, so all the pictures featured only her. This one was one of my favorites. Bent over the tailgate of a big muddy truck. The mud was fresh and smeared against her skin as she clung to the slippery surface. Her top was already off, her perfect breasts dirty.

  My free hand sank under the water and fisted my throbbing cock.

  I told myself I wouldn’t look at these again. I pushed the thought out of my head as I ran my fist up and down.

  “Fuck,” I groaned. I wanted to buck into my hand, but stopped myself, not wanting to slosh water onto my phone. The tiny little shorts were down around her ankles and her ass was red from where Victor had spanked her. Anger throbbed in my veins as I pumped my fist harder. He doesn’t deserve her. I could give her more. So much more!

  I imagined myself positioned behind her, her smooth body dirty with mud, her legs spread, her little pink pussy mine for the taking. What would I do with her first? The possibilities were endless. Endless!

  I would get on my knees and fasten my mouth over her pussy. I would slip my fingers in her tightness. I’d make her cum like that before I gave her my dick. By the time I entered her, her cunt would dripping, desperate for my cock. Her body trembling, her mouth begging for more.

  Yes! I jerked my hand faster, sloshing the water and not caring. She would beg me. I would make sure of it. There was nothing I wanted to hear more from her lips. I would make her want me so bad she couldn’t stand it. I’ll brand myself on her body. I’ll cover her with me and make it so she craves only my touch, my mouth, my cock. Only mine!

  “Fuck!” My cock kicked hard as pleasure rolled through me, squirting out into the warm water. My body shuddered, my back arching. Nothing ever felt so good. Nothing. And I’d fucked plenty of women, yet somehow thoughts of Julia and my hand were better than all of those experiences combined.

  I sighed and leaned back, letting go of my softening cock. I stared at the picture that had invoked such an orgasm. Julia’s dirty, ready-to-be-fucked body stared back at me. A wave of revulsion slammed into my chest.

  Yeah, ready to be fucked, but not by me. By another man, in front of a room full of people. I slammed the phone down. But I still want her, even though she’s just a glorified whore.

  “No, fuck. No!” I jumped out of the tub, water sloshing on the floor. Things weren’t supposed to be this way. I wasn’t supposed to want a woman like her. I was worth billions of dollars. I could have whoever I wanted; scores of successful women would die to have me show interest in them.

  “But I want a whore.” It tasted sour on my tongue, taking me back to the last time I’d used the word. I glanced down at my arm, and the image of Sandy’s face stared back at me. I’d called her a whore in the last conversation I’d had with her before she killed herself. “So this is my penance, huh?” I looked up at the chandelier over my head. “This is what I get for ripping my family apart?” I snatched my phone off the table and held it up in the air. “I get a whore. Better yet, a whore who doesn’t want me. A fucking prostitute. That’s what I get?”

  There was no answer, only silence met my yelling. Tears pressed at the back of my eyes. I was a man, I didn’t fucking cry for anyone. Lies. I did cry, for her I did. For my sweet baby sister I cried more than I would ever admit to anyone.

  I looked down at my wet feet and then back at the tub. I snatched the closest towel and wrapped it around my waist, but not before tossing my phone into tub. I watched it sink slowly to the bottom, the picture of Julia still brightly lit on the screen.

  EIGHT.

  “You’re not supposed to be here.”

  “Says who? You? That’s not your fucking call.”

  Two loud voices rattled around in my head, angry voices.

  “She wouldn’t want you here.”

  “Yeah, lover boy. You’ve said that before, but you don’t have any idea. In fact I don’t even know who you are. I think you’re the one that’s out of place. I’m her father for fuck’s sake.”

  Father? Whose father? They got louder as they went. What kind of dream is this? I couldn’t see them, the owners of the angry voices. Everything was dark, black, like I was in a world with no light or anything else. Nothing but angry voices.

  “I can make you leave. Randy, Leon,” he called out.

  “Oh, you’d like that wouldn’t you? To stick your fancy little hound dogs on me. At first I thought you had them here to protect her, but now I know it’s to protect you. You don’t want to end up alone with me, do ya, little boy?”

  “You think I’m scared of you?” A dark chuckle followed those words. “You think I couldn’t put an old man in his place?”

  I know that voice, these people. I know them! I couldn’t figure out from where. Did they live here in this darkness? Do I live here?

  “I’m no old man. I may have a daughter in her twenties but I’m far from old and I’ve got no doubt I can kick your ass.”

  Horror and surprise slammed into my chest as I recognized the voice of the second man. My dad. I struggled against the darkness that confined me. It was like swimming from the bottom of the deepest part of the ocean, trying to reach the surface before I ran out of breath.

  How will I ever make it out?

  But before I could panic, the darkness pulled me back under, sucking me into a dark hole, silencing the voices.

  “Julia?” a familiar voice said. I blinked my eyes. Everything was blurry, the room a dull mess of white and blue all mixed together.

  “She’s waking up.” The sound of shuffling feet met my ears just as my eyes were finally able to focus. “Julia?”

  I blinked
hard and stared up into the face of my dad, a man I hadn’t seen in almost three years. “What are you—” but I had to stop, because my voice came out hoarse, barely an audible whisper.

  Pain slammed into me, terrible, throbbing pain that radiated from my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut wishing for the black place again, desperate to dive back into its safety.

  “It’s okay, Julia, don’t try to talk.” A warm hand brushed against my arm. It was the owner of the other voice. Cole. My eyes popped open in spite of the pain, in spite of everything, I had to look at him. See him again, when I never thought I would. He stood over me and I became acutely aware that I was lying down. His normally perfect hair was a mess, as if he’d been dragging his hands through the long strands. He almost had a full beard on his jaw, as if it’d been over a week since he’d shaved. I wanted to ask him why, why did he look so sad? Why were his eyes bloodshot and his hand shivering against my arm? Why was he here? Where was here? I could feel the trembling of his fingers on my skin just as I could feel the throbbing pulse of pain in my neck. “I’ll get the doctor and tell him she’s awake.” His eyes lingered on my face for a moment before he turned and left the room.

  I opened my mouth to speak again.

  “Shhhh.” My dad hushed me and held a cup up to my lips. I balked at him, but took a drink anyway, desperately thirsty. The water was cool, soothing my aching throat. “It will only make your neck hurt worse if you keep talking. I know you want to yell at me, curse me, that’s you’re favorite thing to do, but right now you just need to be quiet for once.”

  I frowned up at him. He gave me a tense smile. He looked older, a lot older, than when I’d last seen him almost three years ago. He had a beard, a short one. I’d never seen him with a beard my whole life. He’d always been a clean-shaven kind of guy. He worked on the ranch every day, with his hands dirty, but his face was always clean. It surprised me that the hair in his beard was reddish in color as opposed to the dark hair on his head.