My Valentine: Siren #2

by Roberts, Jaimie

  I rise out of my seat at the same time as my anger rises with it. How dare he speak to me like that?! “I’m not your fucking brother! You’re just out to get me. You’re all fucking out to get me,” I shout around the room, only now noticing that there’s no one in the bar left.

  “They’ve all left.”

  I turn back to Akilah. “No shit, Sherlock. I don’t want their money anyway. They can go fuck themselves.”

  “Why don’t you go and lie down for a while? Maybe try and get some sleep?”

  If I sleep, I dream of her. I’m never sleeping again.

  “Don’t tell me what to do.” Akilah’s getting me so fucking angry. He’s always been on my side, but now he’s not. Instead, he’s siding with all the people who were in the bar whispering things about me. Calling me names behind my back.

  “I’m only suggesting,” he says calmly. It only makes me even more pissed off.

  “You used to be a great friend, and now you’re taking these knobs’,” I say, waving my hand around the room, “side.”

  “I’m on your side, but right now you’re behaving …” He stops like he’s trying to think of a word. If he says crazy, I’ll fucking kill him.

  “Go on. Say it. I fucking dare you.”

  “You’re not yourself,” he explains. I can’t gauge Akilah today. Normally, I can, but this time I can’t. It’s like he’s trying to act concerned, but is smirking at me deep down. I want to hit him. I want to try and get him to say something that will make me want to lash out. It’s his fault anyway.

  “I’m not going crazy!”

  “I never said you were. You’re just acting strangely. You’re not normally like this.”

  “Maybe I’ve always been like this, and no one’s ever bothered to notice.” Rising out of my chair, I stumble a bit. The whiskey’s gone straight to my head. As I get up, I throw my glass on the floor because I had to lash out at something. I wait until the almighty crash happens before saying, “I’m going out.”

  I stumble towards my car, and as I do, a wasp comes buzzing around me. I start waving at it to go away, but it keeps coming at me. “Fuck off!” I shout. The fucker won’t leave me alone.

  I press the button to unlock my car, and I get into it quickly, so I can get rid of this wasp or whatever the fuck it is. As I sit in my car, I realise it’s gone.

  “Bastard fucking wasp,” I mutter to myself as I start the car and drive off. “What does Akilah know anyway? He’d be nothing without me. Still living on the streets, selling shitty knock-off trainers and fucking women’s handbags. Fucking ungrateful knob.”

  I start shaking my head, and the more I think about Akilah, the more my anger rises. Maybe he’s out to get me too. It’s probably all been a ploy all along. He just wants to take my bar from me.

  Well, he can think again.

  Just as I think this, an image of Scarlet fills my head, making my vision blur. I swerve a little on the road, causing the man behind me to blare his horn at me.

  “Fuck off!” I shout back as he passes me on the road. I see him shake his head, and this just gets me angrier. Getting right up his arse, I start to follow him down the motorway, screeching my tyres every now and then to gain his attention. The stupid fuck must be shitting his pants by now.

  I follow for another couple kilometres or so until the moment he has to brake, and I don’t notice. The moment he brakes, I’m too far up his backside to avoid the almighty collision I have with him next.

  I hear the crunching noise before I’m thrown forward, hitting my head against the steering wheel. For a few seconds, everything turns black. All I hear are screeching noises, a massive bang, screaming, and then … silence. In fact, it’s so silent, it’s almost deathly. I don’t know what’s worse—all those voices in my ears or this.

  Groaning, I hear a creaking noise inside my car, and I can smell fuel. Lots of fuel. I blink, feeling liquid coming down into my eye, and it’s only when I wipe it away that I see I have blood on my hands.

  “You always have blood on your hands, Reid,” her mocking voice says to me.

  “Shut the fuck up!” I shout.

  I hear someone shout, “Policía,” and it’s then I know I have to act. I’m not getting arrested. They’ll throw the book at me. When I look out front, I see my bonnet crunched up so much that I can’t see beyond it. There’s smoke coming out, though. Lots of smoke.

  Knowing I need to get out, I pull the handle on the door and try to push. At first, it’s stiff, but I try again, and this time, I manage to make it give way on a final, forceful grunt.

  When I get out, I see all hell has broken loose. There are people screaming and looking at me, rabbiting on about something in Spanish. Lots are on their phones—no doubt calling the police. Some are even filming me.

  The twat who blew his horn at me comes racing over, shouting something in Spanish. I don’t get everything, but what I do get is him calling me an English cunt.

  Pulling my head back, I shout, “Take this from an English cunt, you Spanish dickhead,” before I head-butt him. “Fuck!” I shout as pain radiates throughout my head, but when I see the dickhead on the floor, I smile. Lots of people start shouting again, and it’s only when I hear the sirens in the distance that I start to move.

  The shouting intensifies, and a couple of people even try to stop me. I manage to push them off me as I head for the side of the motorway and disappear into its undergrowth. I run, and I keep on running through wasteland and abandoned housing developments, past shops, and through parking lots. At the moment, I’m not thinking, I’m just running. I don’t know where the fuck I am until thirty minutes later when I end up outside Mercy’s offices. My subconscious must have brought me here.

  I make a move to open the door, and that’s when I remember that she’s not here anymore. I snap my head in the direction of the other office block down the street, my lips curling into a snarl. Dr Mercy needs to explain her actions to me.

  Beaten and bloodied, I make my way over to the other office block, noticing along the way all the stares I’m getting from people.

  “What the fuck are you looking at?” I say to a middle-aged couple looking at me like I’m shit on their shoes. “You think you’re above me, huh? You all think you’re above me! Fucking pricks.” I watch with a smirk as the husband pulls his wife away from me. A look of fear mars both their faces. I would much rather see fear than utter contempt.

  I cross the parking lot onto the street before entering the other parking lot. For some reason, it makes me laugh knowing that I’m coming here when I never used to.

  “It’s they who have gone crazy, not me,” I say, shaking my head.

  When I reach the door, I pull forcefully, making it fly back farther than it’s supposed to—so forcefully that it sticks once it reaches a certain point. “That’s an improvement,” I say, laughing.

  I get to the lift, pressing the button even though it’s already lit up. Two women and a man are already standing there, waiting for the lift, but when they see me, they decide to move away and take the stairs. “Don’t want to use the lift?” I shout. They don’t reply. In fact, they outright ignore me. “Okay then. More room for me!” I chime.

  The lift pings, and no one gets out, so I hastily make my way inside. I press the button and look up. That’s when I see all the mirrors. So many mirrors and so many images of myself in the mirrors. But when I turn, I also see Scarlet smirking at me.

  “Fuck off!” I shout. I turn, but she’s there again, blowing me a kiss. “Leave me alone!” I can feel it all. Anger. Guilt. Rage. Sorrow. Love. Hate. All of it is aimed at the one woman I let slip through my fingers. The one woman who’s now dead by my own hands.

  With all these emotions bubbling to the surface, I lash out at the mirror, smashing it against my fist. Blood seeps through the cracks. I know I’ve cut my hand badly, but I don’t care.

  The lift doors open, and I practically run through them. I can’t take much more of Scarlet. She’s ever
ywhere.

  The receptionist notices me before I notice her, and when I lock my eyes on her, I can’t help but notice just how shocked she is by my appearance. She must think Halloween’s come early.

  “M– M– M– Mr Valentine, what on earth’s happened to you? Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  “I don’t need an ambulance,” I snarl. “I need to see Scarlet.”

  “Who’s Scarlet?”

  My head snaps to hers. “How do you know about Scarlet?” I race to her desk, thumping my bloody fist on the surface.

  At my outburst, she stumbles back, fear showing in her eyes. “You just said you wanted to see Scarlet.”

  “No, I fucking didn’t. I said I wanted to see Dr Mercy.”

  Her hands are trembling as she stands in her corner. She’s trapped, and she knows it. I could snap her neck in two right now if I wanted, and there isn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

  “She’s … she’s with a patient.”

  I point to myself. “Does this look like a man who gives a shit about that right now?”

  I don’t wait for her answer. I stalk towards her door and turn the knob—not even bothering to knock.

  My eyes immediately land on her in her seat, pad and pen at the ready as another woman sits opposite her. She scans me from head to toe before asking, “What happened?”

  Walking forward, I stand, hovering above the other woman in the seat. “Time’s up. Get the fuck out.” She doesn’t hesitate, grabbing her bag.

  “Reece, this is unacceptable!” Mercy complains.

  I watch as the woman disappears. The receptionist still stands at the doorway. “No, what’s unacceptable is that you moved offices without telling me. You were across the way there,” I say, pointing to the other building.

  “But Reece, we’ve always been here. This is where we’ve always had our sessions.”

  I shake my head. “No, it fucking isn’t. The layout of the room is the same, and the furniture’s the same, but the building isn’t, and the fucking colour scheme has definitely changed. Your old office used to be brown. Now, it’s this hideous blue colour.”

  Mercy rises from her seat, looking anxious. “This office has always been blue. The colour blue brings calm to my patients. I’ve always had it like—”

  “No, you fucking haven’t!” I snarl back, making her quiet.

  “Dr Mercy,” I hear the receptionist say.

  “It’s okay, Vera.” Mercy offers her hands out in a calming gesture towards Vera. She gives her a look as if to convey some sort of message before Vera eventually disappears, closing the door behind her.

  “Vera,” I observe, only now knowing her name. “Who fucking calls their kids Vera these days?”

  “Reece, what happened to you?” Mercy comes rushing over, picking up my hand to inspect it. I watch her as she gives me the once over, finally landing on my forehead. She winces as she touches it, and it causes me to wince when pain shoots through my head. “We should clean you up.”

  She looks up at me, but I don’t move. I just carry on staring at her. “You’re the only person in the world I have left.”

  She frowns and smiles before she shakes her head. “That’s not true at all. You have Akilah.”

  I huff. “Akilah’s an arsehole. They all are.”

  “Who are they?”

  “Everyone. They’re all out to get me.” I see that look in her eye—the one that says she thinks I’m going crazy. “I’m not fucking going crazy, Dr Mercy. It’s true. Why doesn’t anyone believe me?!” I shout, growing increasingly impatient.

  “Okay, Reece, calm down.” She steps closer, surprising me. Everyone else so far has been stepping away. But not her. Instead, she places her hands on my arms. “Think about this logically. What would people gain from being out to get you?”

  I try to think of an answer, but my head’s fuzzy. Is she trying to make me believe I’m going nuts? “I don’t know,” I say, shrugging her off. “I don’t know about anything anymore.” I turn away from her, walking up to face the wall. As I do, I run my hand across my face. I feel confused. It’s like everyone’s going nuts, and I’m the only fucking sane person here.

  “Have you been drinking again, Reid?”

  Looking up, I take my hand away from my face, all the blood draining from it. I snap my head around to face her standing there, staring at me like she’s waiting for something.

  “What did you just say?”

  Her forehead crinkles into a little frown. A little frown that looks so much like Scarlet’s. “I asked if you’ve been drinking again.”

  I step closer, waggling my finger in front of me. “Nuh-uh. You called me by name. You said—”

  “Reece. I said Reece. That is your name, isn’t it?”

  I step closer, laughing a little at the situation. I’m not going mad. “You called me Reid.”

  She shakes her head, frowning. “Why would I call you Reid when your name’s Reece?”

  Closing the distance until we’re mere inches apart, I say, “Do you think I’m fucking stupid? I know what I heard.”

  I watch as she swallows. It’s a sure sign of nervousness. “Maybe we should sit down and talk this out. Shall we?”

  Ignoring her, I trace a line with my bloody finger along her jawline. “You know, I used to lick her jawline. It was one of my favourite parts about her. That and her neck, her breasts, and her legs. Everything really.” I lean forward, inhaling sharply, letting the aroma of roses and jasmine hit my nostrils. I feel her still beneath me, but all that does it get my dick stiff. “You have the same jawline, the same neck, the same … everything.”

  “Pl– please, Reece. L– let’s just sit down and talk this through.”

  I run that same finger down from her jawline until I reach her neck. I wrap my hand around it giving it a little squeeze.

  Flashbacks of what I did to Scarlet come racing through my mind, but rather than chasing them away, I allow myself to remember what it was like to finally have her … to take her the way she had always wanted to be taken.

  “Reece,” she chokes, “please. You’re hurting me.”

  Walking forwards, I push her until her back hits the side of her desk. This is the same desk I’ve been fantasising over for the last few months. The same desk I’ve wanted to bend her over or have her sitting at the edge of while I fuck her. The latter is always best. That way, I can watch her reaction as I pound her pussy. I can watch the erotic frown mar her face, and I can see her lips part when she begins to moan in ecstasy.

  As visions of both Mercy and Scarlet mesh together, all I can think about is having them both at the same time. My Mercy and …

  “My Scarlet,” I whisper out loud.

  “Reece—”

  “Shh,” I say, taking my hand from her neck and raising it to her mouth. I notice the blood around her neck, and it only adds to the raging boner I now have in my jeans. The only voices in my head now are telling me to take.

  Take.

  Take.

  Take.

  Take what’s mine.

  What’s always been mine.

  They’re not talking about me. They’re talking to me. They are on my side now that I’m here with Scarlet and Mercy together as one.

  “Do you remember this?” I ask, grabbing her hand and yanking it to my stiff cock. She trembles beneath me, letting out a little sob. “Do you remember what it feels like to have this inside of you?” I ask, making her hand squeeze around it. I groan at the sensation, momentarily closing my eyes.

  It’s been so long. So long since I’ve felt what it’s like to have a woman beneath me as I fuck her senseless. Nothing since Scarlet. But now that she’s here, I can finally break this limp dick curse of mine I’ve been having ever since I did what I did.

  “Reece. You need to see sense. Please! You don’t know what you’re doing.”

  I smile as I hover over her lips, letting my tongue stick out to taste her. “I do know what I’m doing. Final
ly, everything makes sense. You slipped through my fingers once. I won’t let that happen again. Finally, we can be together. Finally, I will make you mine.” Grabbing the end of her skirt, I pull it up high above her waist before picking her up and placing her on the edge of her desk.

  “Reece, no! Please! You can’t do this!” She struggles in my arms, but this only makes my dick even harder for her.

  “You always did like it rough, didn’t you, sweetheart? Fight me. That’s it. I love it when you fight me.” Momentarily, as I hold her arms back, I look down, marvelling at her white lace knickers. “You always did like white lace, didn’t you, Scarlet?”

  I look into her panicked eyes as she shakes her head. “I’m not Scarlet. I swear to you, Reece. I’m not Scarlet. You have to snap out of this now!”

  Pushing forward, I get myself in between her legs before looking down at her lips. Everything pounds. My head pounds, my body pounds, but my dick pounds even harder. It wants her again. Finally, now I know I can get it up.

  “I’m going to shoot my load inside of you so hard it’ll be spilling out of your mouth.” I bend down, kissing her hungrily. She doesn’t respond. In actual fact, she bites my lip. “Ow! Fucking bitch,” I hiss, secretly relishing the sting it gives me. “Keep fighting, Scarlet. I fucking love it.”

  “I’m not Scarlet!” she screams, making me laugh.

  “A liar, too. You know my whore of a mother once told me that liars should never go unpunished. Those were the only wise words I got from my junkie slut of a mother. Funny really, considering she always lied to get what she wanted. Did you know she used to fuck men next door to me as I slept? Men who gave her money so that she could get her next fix. I even caught her giving someone a blowjob right out in the hallway once. The man just smirked at me as I stood there, mouth wide open. I was only nine.”

  “Tell me more,” she says breathlessly, fear still showing in her tearful eyes. “Tell me more about how you felt.”

  A rumble of laughter leaves my lips as I trail my hand down from her slender neck towards her breasts—breasts I’ve been dying to suck on since I first laid eyes on her again. “I know what you’re trying to do. You think that by getting me to talk that I’ll somehow forget that I’ve got the biggest hard-on since forever. The only hard-ons I get happen when I’m around you. Or see you. That video of you with Felicia,” I say, groaning as I squeeze her breast, trailing small kisses up her neck. I feel her wriggle beneath me, and all it does is get my dick harder and harder for her.