“Are you certain? Would you like me to pass along information?”
“No, please don’t. I don’t want you to communicate with the police. I was going to see if we could trace the calls to him so maybe, I don’t know, I could get a restraining order or something, but he already showed his hand.”
“I would always recommend we look into the calls or at the very least you file the reports as I had mentioned. The more evidence we have against him, the better your chances are of getting him put a way for a long time.”
I don’t want Mr. MacAllister getting involved in the police investigation. Like Taylor said, the less variables, the easier it will be to keep our story straight. We have proof he came into my apartment and that’s all that matters.
“I would rather not. My boyfriend doesn’t know about the texts and this will get me into more personal drama than I would like. They have plenty of evidence against this person, including video of him entering my home. I would like you to just send me what you have and then close the case. What’s most important to me is the other case you were looking into. The one about the cult.”
“Yes, this is proving to be challenging, but very intriguing. Do you mind me asking why you want me to dig into this?”
“I can’t say, but it is important to me. I know you won’t tell Kristin anything, but I have to reiterate, she really can’t know about this.”
“Of course.”
“So you think this woman could be alive?”
“The child is the only person who the police believe survived. His mother, Lyla Bordeau is a mystery. It’s possible that she may be alive, or that there was foul play unrelated to the mass suicide.”
“Could you explain further?”
“Well, all I know right now from digging into past records is that her son was found alive at the scene. When the investigators identified the bodies, everyone was accounted for except for her.”
“And they were never able to find her?”
“No. They used the media, no quality leads. They never considered her a suspect, just a possible witness, since it seemed clear that people did what they did on their own volition. Eventually, the interest faded with the press and she remains a cold case. So it’s possible she may have been murdered before the suicide even happened.”
“They just stopped looking for her?”
“Unfortunately, yes. A lot of resources went in initially, and then they just figured she may have been killed before the mass suicide. Witnesses stated that she was growing discontent with C.O.S and her relationship with Peters, the cult leader, was getting tumultuous. Police thought he may have killed her which triggered his downward spiral into leading the group into the suicide. Cult survivors supported this theory by saying they believed she was murdered. I have to say though, I get the feeling that there is more to this. I think it’s possible she is alive. It’s no coincidence to me that her son was the only survivor of the suicide.”
“So what’s next? If the police couldn’t find her…”
“Sometimes time helps. People get comfortable, start slipping up – over time, they leave a trail. They start to tell people secrets. I am going to try to find people she knew, people who were important to her, and I am going to do good old fashioned detective work. Now, I know you want to keep your reasons private, but if there is something you know, anything that can help me narrow down where she may have headed...”
“I’m sorry, I thought she was dead too. This is a shock to me. If I think of anything, I will let you know right away.” Just as I complete the sentence, I hear footsteps approaching. “I have to go. I’ll be in touch.”
“Good morning. Who was that on the phone?”
“Oh, Chad had a question about work. I’m surprised you’re up so early with the drugs and the late night.”
“Drugs and late night? You just made it sound way more fun than it actually was. Yeah, well I feel groggy, but I could sense your absence from the bed. It woke me up.” Someone who has spent his entire life sleeping alone, banishing people out his bed, can’t sleep without me. “How did you sleep?”
The dream. I am so sickened by it, by my infidelity by REM. “It was okay. I couldn’t sleep late either, which as you know is a rarity for me.”
“That’s the truth. Breakfast?”
“Yes, I’m starving. Do you need help?”
“No, just keep me company. I want to make you some outstanding french toast.”
“You’re kind of perfect.” I stand up to kiss him. He wraps his strong arm around my lower back, pressing me close to him. He is already firm and I know the first course won’t be French Toast. He lifts me up and I wrap my legs around him as he carries me inside to the great room, seating me on the couch. All I have on is a long, slouchy tank top, so he easily slides it up to reveal my bare lower body.
“Your pussy looks like a juicy, ripe peach. Delicious.”
“Thank you,” I say coyly.
“Can I have a taste?”
“Of course, sir.”
He grins, as usual, he is most relaxed when he is being sexual. Sexuality is his home. Taylor takes his index and middle fingers and purses his lips around them, maintaining eye contact with me. His eyes smile darkly and he sucks on his fingers with his full lips, takes his moistened fingers and slowly and ever so lightly runs them down my labia while biting his plump lower lip. Then he gently separates the them. “Like a flower…” he says under his breath. I feel a tingling and start to snake my hips towards him, begging him with my body to eat me. “Do you want me to eat this luscious little peach?” His bluish eyes looking directly into mine.
“Yes.”
“Beg me.”
“Please.”
“More.”
“Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please eat it.”
“Eat what?” He cocks his eyebrows.
“My peach,” I barely get out. He fingers gently message me as I beg. I grab a handful of his hair in my hands, trying to coax him but he resists. Finally, he leans in close, but then he stops just short of contact. I feel his lips graze below just barely.
“Take out your titties.” Just a slight adjustment of my slouchy tank top reveals them. “Play with them.” I cup them in my hands as my hips still snake towards him. My breathing shallows, and I feel that if I do not get back some control, I could come before he ever places his lips on mine.
“Please, just fucking eat me.” I beg, almost pathetically. “Please baby. I want you so bad.”
“You taste so good. I am going to savor your juices.” He purses his lips and finally presses them against me. I throw my head back, wrapping my legs around his shoulders. He slowly sucks on the clit, doing it with just enough pressure to slowly and steadily tease me. My hips snake towards him with more force and speed until I am fucking his face. Just as I am about to come, he stops. I look at him desperately.
“Wha-What are you…?” I ask.
His pants are off and I don’t ever recall seeing him remove them. His thick, hard cock, stands at attention. “I don’t want you to come too fast, I want you to enjoy this.”
“Trust me, you have no idea.”
Taylor dives back in, slowly using his long tongue to penetrate me. I moan all sorts of incoherent things. Finally, he comes back to my clit, which is engorged and just waiting for him to release the explosion of pleasure. He takes his soft, plump lips and purses around her, gently sucking. I take one of my hands off of my breasts and pull on his hair as I moan loudly out into the world, clenching his neck with my thighs, tiny explosions erupting inside of me over and over. I look down at his face, his lips covered in my wetness so that when he kisses me, I taste myself in his mouth. He lies me horizontally on the couch and rests his body over mine, but just as he is about the enter, a panic hits me again. “Wait.”
Taylor’s eyes change as if I had awoken him from a dream. “Oh…I didn’t think.”
“No, I’ll be fine. I just want to do s
omething for you. Tell me how you want me to suck your cock.” Inside, my heart is still going at full speed, and I secretly fear that something inside me might be broken, that something finally gave from all the recent events. But I still want to please him; I don’t want to isolate him from the act in which he feels most comfortable relating to me. “Tell me. I’m yours. I want to please you.” He stands up and takes me by that hand so that I stand up as well.
“You sure? You want me to tell you exactly how I want my dick sucked? No holds barred?”
“Yes, I want to make you come so hard. I want to please you. I want to do more than please you.”
“You are making me rock solid.”
“I know,” I smile.
“Get on your knees.” I take comfort in being commanded. I want to be told, I want my thoughts to only be of him and his dark, velvety voice. “Spit on your hand and put it around the base. Hold it firmly, now put that sexy mouth around the shaft. Uhhhh.” He lets out a sigh as I do this, his voice lowers and becomes breathy. “Oh fuck. Yeah. Suck on it baby. Jerk me off at the base with your hand. Oh yeah.”
He takes all of my hair in his hand and guides my pace. Then his hips begin to gyrate back and forth towards my mouth. “Run your tongue along the under…yeah, like that.” I can feel him swelling in my mouth making it hard for me to contain him, but reinforcing that I am doing it exactly the way he likes it. “Now take your mouth off, but keep your hands on. Keep going, like that.” His engorged dick looks like it will burst at any moment. “I want to come on those beautiful tits of yours. I want to filthy them with my cum.” With my available hand, I slide my tank off of my shoulders, revealing my bust. “Put your mouth on it one last time, and take me all the way in.” I take him to the back of my throat, gagging a little as my throat muscles tense against the head of his penis. “Finish me off baby, all over those beautiful face and tits.” It only take seconds as he pumps all over the pale flesh of my breasts, streams of his cum adorning the curvature of my collarbones, areolas, and bust.
Taylor collapses onto the couch. I sit back onto the floor, studying the aftereffects of our encounter. It’s the first time I have ever had a guy do that to me, so I don’t have a standard procedure about what to do next.
Taylor breaks the silence. “Fuck, that was fantastic baby. Why don’t you shower while I make breakfast?”
***
By the time I get out of the shower, Taylor is plating the French toast. Drying my hair with a towel, I watch him from a distance, admiring his shirtless body. His hair is disheveled and he is just starting to grow a 5 o’clock shadow. He appears well rested compared to the way he looked at the hospital. I cherish the moment as I know it is only a brief respite from the reality of our world. There is a lot of pain and anger that needs resolution. I know Taylor won’t be at peace until he has avenged me. Finally, he looks up and notices me watching him.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Come eat.”
I walk over to the breakfast bar and he passes me a plate with three pieces of French toast, covered in berries and bananas and a dollop of mascarpone cheese. “Thank you so much, this looks great.” Taylor stands across from me at the counter, and we eat in silence. “This is so delicious.”
“Thank you…Shyla…” He pauses.
“What is it?” It seems that he is going to throw away the question, but I want to know what is on his mind.
“Are you…okay? I mean, a lot has happened. And you, well, the last couple of times we tried anything…do you need to talk to someone? A professional?”
“I’m okay, really. It’s just a little soon is all. I’m a little shaken up by the past couple of days. I am sure it’ll subside.”
“He didn’t really do anything at your house, right? You wouldn’t hide that from me? I know I reacted poorly the first time—”
“No. I swear. I just think my emotions are fried. There has been so much happening at once. I just need some time to let things settle. I think I might still be in shock.”
“Listen, I know it’s different, but I know what you’re going through. All of this, what we do, the dom stuff, I won’t do it until you tell me you’re ready. You need to tell me when you are ready to handle something that intense. ”
“I will, but part of me thinks it might help me. You know, work through everything.”
“Are you sure? It’s a dangerous road, using sex as a way to work out your issues. I would know.” We both laugh a little at his dark joke.
“I understand.”
“And maybe it’s good that you — I don’t know — see someone.”
“Taylor, how rich of you to suggest that I see a therapist.”
“You’re not like me; you can be fixed. I mean not just what happened, but the mutilation…” Both of our eyes dart down to the thin cuts on my arm, and I feel ashamed and conflicted. How much different are the bruises on my body, the cuts on my lips, from the cuts on my arms? I know myself and who I am. I don’t need to see a therapist as long as I have him to guide me through the shadows.
“I’ll tell you what. Once you start making weekly visits to the shrink, I promise I’ll go too.”
Taylor sighs and nods his head, conceding to my point. “Point taken, smartass.” His phone rings and he excuses himself to grab it. “Hello? Yes, this is. Oh, yes, I’m fine and you? Sure, just a moment.” He puts the phone down. “It’s for you. Detective Acosta.” My phone was taken into evidence and so I gave Taylor’s number as my contact information.
“Detective?”
“Hello Miss Ball. How are you feeling?”
“A lot better, thank you. Do you have any news?”
“Yes, actually I do. It’s both good and bad.”
My heart drops and I instantly become nauseous. “Yes. Go ahead.”
“Eric Holden has left the country.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“What? How?”
“From the timeline, it appears he immediately headed to the airport. He already had reservations for a flight to Brazil.”
“Brazil?” I slump into my seat as I look up at Taylor, who is stoically leaning against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed, boring holes through me with his turquoise eyes. “So what are you going to do?”
“Ms.Ball, policing becomes very difficult internationally. He may have already headed to another South American country through Brazil. At this point the court will be issuing a warrant for his arrest but it is a waiting game.”
“So are they going to track him down?” This is getting much bigger than I thought.
“Well, it’s not that simple. He’s effectively disappeared at this point. The best thing to do is to wait for him to slip up.” He won’t slip up.
“So you mean, he just gets off, scot-free?” I am not sure if this is good news or not. On one hand, he’s gone, really gone; on the other he won’t pay for what he has done.
“We will do everything in our power to find him, but I want you be prepared for the fact that our search has gotten a lot more complicated and will most likely take longer than we originally thought. We will continue to work leads and see if we can find out his specific whereabouts, working with the FBI and Interpol if we need to.”
“I cannot believe this.”
“Listen, Ms.Ball, if there is any silver lining to this, it’s that he has gone on the run and it is unlikely he will return to this country or ever try to contact you again.”
“But he gets to just live his life, as if nothing even happened?” I want to make sure he thinks I am outraged, but in a way I am relieved. Lying was as difficult as Taylor said it was.
“That’s not necessarily true. He will have to hide and that is not pleasant. I will continue to be in touch if there are any new developments. He is on every list we could get him on so if he slips up, we will find him.”
“You’ll never find him. He’s smart. He is a security expert. He was in the military.”
“Actually, I did want to ask you about that. You
mentioned he owned a security firm, but we didn’t find any record of that.”
“Well that’s what he once told me. Maybe he was trying to impress me. His family is rich, he doesn’t need to work. He was in the military, Taylor knows that for sure.”
“Well, I will be in touch if I have any updates or questions.”
“Okay. I’m going out of town for a while visiting family. So, I may be unavailable.” It’s kind of a fib since I have no official plans yet, but ever since things spiraled out of control I have developed an unusually strong urge to visit my mother. I need a break from all of this, and that includes any more conversations with Acosta.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind. I know you are frustrated, but we will do our best to bring him to justice, no matter how long it takes.”
“I understand and I’m sorry if I sound ornery. This has been very difficult. Thank you for your help.” I hang up the phone, and before Taylor can ask, I tell him: “He’s gone.”
“Brazil?”
“Yes. The detective tried to lay it on softly, but he basically said it’s like finding a needle in a haystack.”
Taylor rests his forehead in his hand for a moment, and then he looks up. “I can find him. I can pay someone to find him,” he says, stabbing his index finger into the kitchen counter.
“And then what? Taylor, he’s probably in the fucking jungle somewhere living off of the land with a goddamn indigenous tribe. This is Eric we’re talking about, he knows what he’s doing. He’s the last person you probably want on the lam.”
“Goddamit!” Taylor slams his fist into his plate and it shatters. His hand begins to drip blood. “I fucking swear it, I’m going to destroy him! I will wait, patiently; he will slip again, he will make a mistake, and when I get my hands on him again, it will be for the last fucking time!”
His tone and the fire in his eyes paralyzes me. The wrath is not directed at me, but the rage is so palpable, so heavy, it feels as though he could explode at any moment.
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