by Holly Hood
“Ok,” she said once Frankie removed his hand. He no longer had to keep her there, she was under his control.
“My brother tried to kill you because he is a sadistic, warped, predator. And you have every right to fear for Delaney’s safety. I know this is going to come off as… I don’t know… bizarre.” He shook his hands for dramatic effect. “He’s part demon, incubus actually. And he feeds off of woman. And right now he is being quite the asshole, so you got lucky, instead of me killing you like he asked, and like he couldn’t do the first time. I am going to set you free with this new information.” Frankie stepped back. “Now run off and do what you want with that. If I were you I’d tell Delaney. But that’s just me.”
Rose hesitated. Her head full of skepticism. She wouldn’t have believed him if it wasn’t for the cold dead stare and his sick sadistic ways. She nodded her head, taking off into a sprint away from the strange guy, the bell of the diner dinging noisily as she made it inside away from danger.
Frankie tossed his keys in the air, catching them over and over as he headed to his car. A trained smirk plastered on his face.
***
Sam studied the posh office. The potted plants lining the walls, dark carpet beneath his feet, the nonexistent walls that were just giant windows perched high above the downtown concrete. The glow of the streetlights and night time security lighting sparkled against the darkness outside.
“This is nice,” he said to the raven haired secretary. The office was empty besides the two of them.
She carefully collected all her manila files, bending down and sitting them on the floor next to the reception desk. “High priced lawyers have nice things,” she said.
Sam gave a nod of agreement, allowing her take his shirt off. She kissed the exposed skin of his chest. “Tell me your story,” she said, undoing his belt.
Sam slid his fingers through her smooth bob. “I don’t have a story, just a guy looking for a good time.” They met back up. Sam kissed her lips, trying her on for size. If his mother’s words were accurate then he could go all the way through with the act and not kill this girl. And before he could do this with Delaney he had to try it out.
He moved quicker, his hand holding tight to the back of her skull, his kisses deeper and more personal than ever before. He was waiting for any indication he was going overboard. But the only sign was the moans of delight she let escape as he kissed her jaw line, and then started down her neck, tearing at her blouse to get it off quicker.
Sam helped her out of it, enjoying the lacy bra and panties underneath, black, his favorite color on a woman. Her heels thudded the metal of the desk as she pulled herself on top of it, dragging Sam with her. Their bodies joined, his chest pressed tightly against hers, he worked himself between her legs, running his hand up her neck to her face. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered in his ear.
Sam nodded, biting at her lip. “Isn’t that what you call woman?”
She laughed. “Not when you look like you do. You’re beautiful.”
Sam didn’t bother disagreeing. He hitched her legs up, happy she was in a skirt and so easy to get to. He slipped inside, desperate to prove a theory, nothing more. Her nails immediately sinking into the skin of his back, his belt buckle rattling up and down as he made love to this complete stranger. He was doing it for one reason and one reason only.
His breath hitched, his heart pounded, he was close to finishing. Something he always refused to do with anyone.
Sweat formed at his hairline, her fingers slipping through it. She stared into his blue eyes, before closing her own altogether, letting him take control and do as he wished with her. She loved his intensity, almost certain she never felt nothing like it before. A furrow appeared in the center of her eyebrows showing her intense pleasure, as her teeth sunk into her bottom lip.
The girl from the bar that Sam knew nothing about moaned, he wasn’t sure if it was to get his motor running or if she was just that melodramatic. She threw her head back over and over again at each thrust. Sam fought the gnawing urge to cover her mouth. And the intense feeling that the simple act wasn’t good enough, that he needed more from her. His hips stopped moving, he closed his eyes, feeling the energy leave his body, shuddering as he stiffened in climax.
“What’s your name?” he asked winded, trying to take his mind off the emotions that were swirling around in his head, everything from anger, to rage to fear.
“Jill,” she told him, sitting up. She pulled away, standing up in nothing but her skirt that now was bunched up and more like a halter at the moment. “You never told me your name either.”
Sam stood, pulling his pants up. “I’d rather not.” He secured his belt.
She shrugged, not concerned either way. He had given her what she wanted and that was good enough for her.
Sam gnawed at the inside of his cheek, his nerves shaking like a vicious quake. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets.
“Are you alright?” Jill asked, searching his eyes for an answer. He looked like he was about to have a heart attack, all sweaty and rigid.
“Yeah, fine. Could we just hurry up and get out of here?” He avoided her gaze. “It’s not you. I got to be somewhere is all.”
Jill fixed her clothes, smoothing out her skirt and buttoning her shirt back. She lifted the files from the floor setting them back on the table, and pulled the phone from the gray filing cabinet and put it back in its place. “Okay, I understand. Your married right?”
Sam ignored this, “This way right?”
“Yep, to your left, just let me set the pin and we will be out of here in no time,” she said as she punched the keypad. Sam lingered in the hallway behind her.
“So, I was thinking, maybe I could call you a cab,” Sam said as they took the elevator back down to the main floor. He knew it was offensive. And that this probably made him look like a huge jerk. But his head was throbbing and he was near a nervous breakdown. He swore he could feel his muscles twisting in a sadistic strain all the way through his body. His fingers were buzzing, his mind kept begging him to just touch her again, to crush her windpipe with his strong hands and end her.
“Uh, I don’t think so buddy. You might be good in the sack, but you’re not sending me home in a cab. Just take me back to the bar so I can get my car.” She let out a frustrated sigh at Sam’s nerve.
Sam kept telling himself the girl was still alive. That things were going good. He could pull through for about another ten minutes and have the answer to his question. That he was capable of sleeping with a girl without wanting to kill her. He had stopped his body from doing something he was certain was automatic at one time.
“Fine.”
Sam hurried to his car, digging through his pocket for his keys, his shaky hand hitting the button on his keyless entry. He hopped in, waiting for Jill to make it around. He thought about taking off before she got a foot in the car but knew this probably would make matters worse.
***
“I promise just one drink,” Delaney’s friend Lily said in the parking lot of the downtown bar near their school.
“Fine, but hurry up. I want to stop by Sam’s.” She collected her jacket and purse from the inside of Lily’s little red mustang, stepping out onto the asphalt of the parking lot. The air was tepid, with a slight chill that she paid no mind too.
“This is one of his favorite bars,” Delaney said to Lily as they headed through the crowded parking lot.
A familiar rumble sounded behind them. Delaney turned, noticing the recognizable sports car pulling into the only available parking spot, a black, 1967 Camaro SS. The same kind of car Vance drove. She lost her breath, telling herself she was seeing things. But as her eyes fell to the front driver side door where the familiar scratch was, the one she had put there herself, she knew she was right.
Lily twisted around to see why the holdup. “Is that Vance?”
Delaney said nothing, waiting for the car doors to open so her worst nightmare could come
true. From where she stood, whoever was in the car didn’t know she was merely feet away, that her heart was plummeting at an alarming rate down to her ankles. Or that her insides were sour and she felt like puking.
The passenger side opened first. And out came a tall girl with dark hair. “I had a good time. You should call me sometime,” she paid no mind to Delaney as she strolled right past, her light flowery perfume wafting the air and sailing past Delaney’s nose, the sound of her inexpensive heels pelting the asphalt.
Lily squeezed Delaney’s arm, feeling awful for her friend. Delaney pulled away, dropping her little black clutch on the ground and pushed off, quickly taking off before she missed the opportunity to see that it was Vance inside the car. The car rumbled to life, Delaney ran, her fist thudding the metal of the Camaro before she even knew what she was doing, before she even knew if it was Vance. Her heart knew.
Their eyes met. And her vision quickly deserted her, tears flooded her eyes. She clutched her chest, the pain too much. Her knees gave way and she simply dropped to the ground at the sight of him.
Sam climbed out of the car not bothering to even shut the car off. “Delaney?”
She couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.
“What are you doing?” Sam asked, his mind taking longer than it was supposed to to process what it was that just happened. He only cared about her crumpled in a heap at his feet in the middle of a bar parking lot. But when he reached for her he felt the sting of her hand against his arm.
“How. Could. You.” Delaney finally managed to push out. Her lips dry, her throat constricted, it pained her to speak. She blinked away the endless tears. “How could you, Vance?”
Sam dropped his jaw, lost for words, unable to think of anything to say. He was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time and he had no words. He moved forward, trying to touch her, but once again was met by a sharp slap, this time on his cheek.
“Get away from me!” Delaney screamed on her feet.
Sam’s anxiety level was at an all time high. He gripped Delaney’s elbow. “Will you listen.”
Delaney fought against him like he was some stranger trying to snatch her or something he thought. He recovered quickly from her sharp nails and elbows to his side.
Lily, her nosy friend, stepped forward. Trying to break Sam’s hold on Delaney who she knew didn’t want anything to do with him at the moment. Usually Lily stayed out of people’s private issues. But theirs was taking place out in front of god and everybody. “Why don’t you let me take her home? And you guys can talk tomorrow?”
Sam clamped down on Lily’s arm, his eyes meeting hers in a delicate yet deadly manner. “Lily, I want you to turn around and forget that you saw anything,” he said, clenching his jaw. Lily swallowed hard, shaking her head that she understood and left in a rush.
Sam’s fingers clamped down on Delaney’s chin, his fingers buzzing with passion. “Let me take you back to the house. We need to talk.”
She couldn’t make sense of anything he was saying to her. The only thing that was on her mind was the awful truth. Vance had cheated on her. He had been running around behind her back with other woman. How big of a fool was she that she didn’t see it. Of course a guy as good looking as Vance would never be faithful to her. Sweet, simple, Delaney, the girl with the chocolate brown hair, and the green eyes full of sparkle, how could she be so naïve?
“Come on.” Sam tugged her by the arm, guiding her toward his car. Relief washed over him when she seemed to be complying. He reached for the door handle, using the other hand to hold tight to her arm.
Delaney twisted in his grasp. She wasn’t going into that wretched vehicle. She wasn’t going anywhere with him. She pulled away from his tense grip, her brown hair hitting her in the face as she struggled to get her good hand free. She pulled back guiding her fist through the air. She gasped as soon as her fist struck him in the nose, her knuckles meshing with the bones in his face. This was enough to stop him. And gave her just enough time to get lost in the passing crowd and slip into the bar to call someone to come get her.
Explanation
A squeal of tires on the damp asphalt sliced through the air down below Frankie’s apartment. This was enough to have him sitting vertical. In nothing more than his gym shorts, he dropped his feet to the floor as quiet as a mouse.
His apartment was tranquil. If he sat totally still he could hear everything that was happening beneath him. The irate driver had killed the rumbling engine and in all probability was climbing the stairs as he sat there.
Frankie picked up his cell phone. The light illuminating his calm appearance as his eyes roamed over the display, staring at the numbers illuminated across it. It was three in the morning. And Frankie knew most people in his apartment didn’t have angry guests at such an hour. He stood, slowly stepping across his bedroom floor. He nudged his bedroom door shut, and grabbed the metal baseball bat from behind it. He ran his fingers along the smooth metal, finding the familiar scratches he had put there himself.
He made it into the living room, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. Suddenly he was standing again, this time he yanked the chain from the front door and unlocked the knob and then he took his seat on the arm of the chair again, the bat resting next to him in a geared up position. And he waited.
Sam headed straight to Frankie’s apartment without a sound. He gave one quick strike before he angrily gripped the knob and twisted, throwing the door open. He was so disturbed he didn’t even notice his brother sitting in the dark apartment with the famous baseball bat at his side. He was waiting for him.
“She’s gone,” Sam said into the darkness. “She’s gone.”
Frankie curled his fingers around the neck of the baseball bat all set to strike. He kept his lips pursed firmly together, not even allowing a mumble to escape his lips. He was ready for whatever Sam was about to do to him. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Sam raked his fingers through his muddled blonde hair, the glint from the window showing Frankie just how much of a mess his brother was. “I don’t know how this happened. I had everything figured out for once.”
Frankie sat up a little straighter. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
Sam’s eyes evaded Frankie’s. He rubbed his palm against his five o’clock shadow, letting out a sigh of dissatisfaction for his foolishness. “I-I had to prove to myself I had the control I needed. I met up with some random girl at the bar. Took her back to her office and I did it…” Sam stared off. Still surprised he made it through the whole act without harming the girl.
Frankie sighed. This was getting better by the minute. He nodded. “I would think that was a good thing.”
“It was. But the girl insisted I drop her off back at the bar. And Delaney was there and saw the girl getting out of my car.” Sam smacked himself in the head, turning away from his brother. Instead of grief he only felt extreme resentment that he had been so stupid.
“Well see, there’s your first mistake. You let her live,” Frankie said. “If you would have taken care of her back at her office we wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”
Sam was silent. Frankie like a ghost lifted the bat and rested it on his leg. “So you have control. Not very much now though, seeing it up and ruined the whole purpose.” Frankie smirked at the quirk of fate.
“How in the hell would I have known if I just killed her?” He spun back around. “She’s going to talk to Rose. And if this whole thing isn’t destroyed already it will be.”
Frankie nodded. “I’m sure your right.” Of course you’re right.
Frankie watched Sam pace his apartment, a ticking time bomb of emotions. It gave him a sense of supremacy that his entire joy was quickly retreating. He wasn’t even sure why it felt so good to see Sam failing, but it felt amazing. “Where you going?”
Sam stopped in the doorway. “Home to pack. It won’t be long before Rose spills and I got the police at my door. Or god knows what.”
Frankie
dropped the bat coming to the door. “Just go home.”
Sam shook his head in misunderstanding. “I am. Then I’m out of here.”
Frankie shook his head in disagreement and frustration. “Go home. Go to sleep and don’t do anything until tomorrow. Can you do that much?” Frankie cursed himself silently for even opening his mouth. But he couldn’t fight it. He waited until his brother gave him a nod before he slammed his door shut fuming.
He hurried to his room, dragging a long sleeved shirt over his head and stepped into a fresh pair of blue jeans. He sat down on the edge of his bed lacing up his black boots, preparing himself for a late night car ride.
***
Delaney sat in the lawn chair at her apartment, the ones by the pool. Only this time it was night and nobody else was around but her, her and a bottle of red wine.