“Don’t care. Please.”
And I can see it so clearly. We didn’t care. Neither of us. She may have said it, but it was absolutely a joint decision. Especially as I watch her lift and remove her leggings, watch myself pull my dick out for her to sit on. And then she does and I have to hold back a groan at the sight. Because seeing us together like this is doing something to my head. And I hate it, am repulsed by it. Especially given the circumstances.
“Fuck, you guys are hot together.”
Hagen has returned to the room, and I can see him adjusting his dick at our show. The me on screen is turned on, the coke making me forget what exactly is happening and in front of who. I feel nausea overriding the lust I had just been feeling now.
“I bet she’s good cock sucker. Look at those plump lips.”
He’s standing next to us now, a gleam in his beady eyes as
Celia continues to rock over me.
“You want me to blow you? Huh?”
Celia is teasing him, her smile wicked, her eyes glossy. We had no idea what the fuck we were doing, too overrun by chemical desire.
“Yeah, you want my lips wrapped around your dick so badly.”
I see his dick slip from the slit in his pants, watch in horror as the love of my life takes it into her mouth as I continue to fuck her. As I brush my lips against her throat, run my hands across her supple body.
“Fuck, that’s it. Suck my cock. God, I bet your pussy feels even better. So wet and hot.”
I close my eyes so I don’t have to watch as the girl on the video moves from my lap, my cock hard and glistening on the screen. Celia grips my hand and my eyes fly back open to see her riding Hagen now, bouncing on him before I move into view. I’m on my knees, my head between her legs, eating her out as another dick fucks her.
“Oh my god,” she gasps beside me as we watch in horror. Hagen is coming and I’m pulling her off of him to fuck her myself.
She turns her face toward my shoulder, trying to hide herself from the image of us together, fucking, resting, before going at it again. Only this time, Hagen is the one between her legs and I feel phantom memories of his tongue in places I never imagined another male’s tongue would be.
Not that I imagined any of this, really.
Hagen notices we’re not watching, trying to block out shame we can’t even remember but clearly are guilty of.
“Look at the screen!” he shouts and we both jump. His gun is still trained on us, and he seems more manic than earlier. I think it has something to do with the video. I feel sick thinking about how many times he’s watched this, watched us. No doubt in this very place. “Look at what you two did. Look how easy you both are. Giving it up without a thought. Fucking trash.”
“I’m gonna come so hard in you, Cecelia. I’m gonna make your pussy overflow with me,” I hear myself say and watch as Hagen doesn’t move. I know he’s tasting not only her, but me as well. Jesus. This is so wrong.
And the thing is, it gets worse. So much worse. I remember our train ride home, remember how Celia was sore and we didn’t understand why. But there, in living color, I watch as we try anal for the first time. I watch as Hagen joins in, slipping himself into her pussy before he comes too fast and I take Celia hard and fast, once more, back inside her pussy.
It’s a nightmare.
It’s deplorable.
We were so fucking stupid.
Days. Days we were there, fucking, using, degrading ourselves so badly I wish all I could remember of this time was fragmented images flitting through my dreams. So that I’d never know it was real.
Hagen skips forward scenes where nothing happens. It looks like we do more coke, hang around, sleep, but nothing overly major happens. The only time he stops to play the video is if sex is involved. And Jesus Christ, there is a lot of sex.
Hours’ worth plays out on the projector screen, the two of us fucking, crazed with manufactured carnality, and every now and then, Hagen joining in. Though as time goes on, he becomes more an observer to our antics and less of a participant.
The whole thing is disturbing and unnerving. But it’s almost worse knowing we have no memory – or control – of these actions, and yet, this man, this deranged man watched it all happen like it was no big deal.
As the video plays of me taking Celia from behind, our movement’s jerky and concerning, Hagen’s cellphone rings. He ignores it, continuing to watch the video until the ringing starts up again. For the last few hours, he’s been sitting on the arm of the sofa, rubbing himself though his pants with the hand not holding the gun, moaning and “appreciating” our performance, while giving color commentary for what he likes, thinks we can do better, and what he wants to see next when we “perform” again for him.
“Motherfucker!” he shouts, pulling his hand from his crotch to grab his phone. The ringing stops and then starts up once again. Whoever is trying to call, desperate for his attention. Waving the gun around to swipe the screen, causing Celia and I to duck lest the damn thing goes off, Hagen answers. “What? What do you want?”
Though we can’t hear the caller, Hagen’s mannerisms go from enjoying the show, to annoyed in a flash as his eyes move from the flashing skin on the screen to something off in space. His voice is rough, his attention diverted and aggravated but sitting there, I’m wary. The gun is still pointed toward us and given his attitude, I worry he’ll pull the trigger without realizing it.
“Yes, yes I’m here with them,” he says and I glance at Celia, my frown matching hers as we realize whoever is on the other end knows about this whole thing, knows about us. “No, you stay there. I will handle them.” He shoots us a quick glance, his face angry and sneering. “You will not ruin this, I don’t care about your grudge.”
Another glance at Cecelia and I can see, just like I am, she’s trying to figure out who has a grudge against us and how they can possibly know Hagen. The only person we know who knows Hagen is Cecelia’s friend, Melody, but the last thing I want to believe is a woman we’ve both trusted over the years would turn on us like this.
Especially since I can’t imagine what kind of grudge she could have against us. Or more to the point, I can’t imagine why she’d ever team up with a guy she claims tormented her. Unless she’d been lying to us the whole time to gain sympathy? I doubt that too much though.
“Listen fucker, stay where you are. I’ll hook you up when I’m through here.” He takes a second to listen and then squeezes his eyes shut. What comes out of his mouth next shocks and angers me. “Stay where you fucking are, Fife! I won’t say it again.”
“Fife?” Celia whispers against my side, trying not to let Hagen see or hear her talking. “Chace, he’s working with Fife?”
I nod enough for her to notice but not tip off our captor. My mind is racing. I can’t figure out how the hell those two would know one another let alone work together against us. How did Fife meet Hagen? How did we manage to come up in conversation? Melody had been around Fife, her seeing him, him seeing her, and neither seemed to recognize the other.
Unless, again, it was a set-up. But once more, I can’t imagine that because if that were the case, why wait for so long to do something? None of it makes sense here.
Just as my mind is trying to figure out the conspiracies, Hagen steals his attention from us. He stands, waving the gun around but no longer pointing it in our direction as he argues with Fife about using and how he won’t be long and to go to get something to tide him over.
I watch him, watch him keep his back to us and know I won’t get another chance to stop this. Looking at Celia, I urge her to loosen my restraints. She does without question, having not tied them very tight to begin with. As soon as mine are loose enough I work at trying to get hers undone. They’re not coming apart though and I know I don’t have forever to do something about that right now.
Looking up at Hagen, seeing he’s still distracted with his back to us, I make a choice. I press a quick kiss to her lips, not letting her have tim
e to question what I’m doing before I’m scrambling off the couch and charging at Hagen from behind.
For her part, Celia remains quiet but for the small gasp I hear as I move. It thankfully doesn’t alert Hagen, who is still too busy with a clearly on edge Fife. I hit Hagen’s back hard, knocking us both down, forcing the gun and his phone from his hands.
“Motherfucker!” he grunts as we both hit the floor. Hard.
In the movies and on television, this moment is always so dramatic. There’s wrestling, a fight, and scrambling for the weapon. The audience roots for the good guy to win, knowing there’s imminent danger but hoping against hope the bad guy won’t get the upper hand. In real life, there’s chaos and uncertainty.
And with your hands still slightly bound, there’s difficulty.
I manage to get Hagen down, and since he’s on his belly I have a better shot of keeping him down, but I don’t want to give him any possibilities, so struggling to stay atop his squirming form, I throw a hit against his shoulder, hoping to stun him so I can get the rope around his neck. It doesn’t stun him though. It doesn’t do anything and that only reiterates my earlier thoughts of him being on something.
With a roar, Hagen lifts off the ground, pushing me back and into the edge of the couch. My head bounces against the arm, shaking my vision for a second and in that second, Hagen manages to regain his footing. I move to stand, but my head is still woozy. And I see he has his gun once more.
“You are so stupid, do you know that?” he asks but I can see answering would be a bad idea. Especially since I have no idea where Celia is at the moment. “All you had to do was watch a video. All you had to do was recreate it with me and we’d all be on our merry way. But no. You had to play hero. And you, put the phone down. Now.”
“Why are you doing this?” Celia asks from somewhere behind me, a thud sounding against the floor, no doubt the phone she’d had dropping. “What do you want from us?”
“I told you, I want to watch. Watch and collect the remaining debt you owe. Out of everyone who came my way, you two were my favourite. No one else played like you two did,” he says with that despicable lust on his face once more. “The cost went up because of it.”
“And Fife, how does he play into this?” I ask trying to get my footing again. I’ve shaken my restraints free, but considering how woozy I am, I don’t appear to be much of a threat.
“It’s funny, really. I had this guy interested in buying from me. Said he was having some trouble coming down from fighting and needed something for it. He came by one evening as I was watching our movie,” he flicks his tongue at Celia, imitating cunnilingus, and I hear her groan of disgust. “And wouldn’t you know it, he recognized you two! It was like kismet,” Hagen says excitedly, his moods flip-flopping too fast to keep up with. “I was so disappointed to find you both had left without a goodbye so to find out he knew you? It was like fate had brought us all back together. And then you had to go and make him made, make me almost miss my shot.”
“What does he get from this?”
Hagen laughs. “Oh, it’s simple really. After I’m through with you two, I said he could have her. He really has been after her for a long, long time now. Talks about her to the point of obsession. But I figure, she gave it up so easily for me, why not for him too, right?”
My stomach turns over, but I swallow hard to keep from puking. I remember the ways Fife talked about Celia, the things he knew, the inflection of every word he said. Of course he knew about the tattoo on her back in an intimate way. Of course he’d say she liked it “two at a time.” He’d seen the fucking video!
My rage, my fury at Hagen’s audacity, at Fife’s corruption overwhelms me and I rise from the floor, rushing once more at Hagen. I hear myself screaming, but I don’t see anything until I’m once more slamming into him, intending to subdue him for good this time.
The second I connect with his body, I hear the gun go off and Cecelia scream. I’m sure she’s worried I’ve been hit, but I can’t check.
I have to stop Hagen.
Rising up, straddling his stunned body, I start pummeling him. Hitting everywhere I can hit, meaning to do more than just slow him down this time.
I continue to hit and hit, watching as his face slowly becomes unrecognizable. But I don’t stop. I don’t stop until Celia shouts my name, her voice hysterical.
Fist raised midair, I turn to look at her. She’s trembling, whole body shaking, cheeks streaked with tears.
“Chace,” she cries for me once more. “Chace, please.”
“Celia?” I question and rise up from the floor to move toward her. My hands feel wet, Hagen’s blood covering them. I try to wipe them off before touching her, not wanting his blood to taint her, but my shirt is covered too. Whipping it off, I wipe as best I can before reaching Celia. “Baby?” I see the gun is in her left hand, shaking as she looks up at me, still crying.
“Chace,” she says my name again, this time barely above a whisper. I don’t know when or how she grabbed the gun, since I didn’t see where it had gone on impact, nor did I see her move to get it, but somehow she has managed to grab it.
I take a moment to feel grateful there’s no chance for Hagen to grab it now, surprise us with an ambush.
“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay,” I move to release her hands from the rope when I notice a dark red blotch beginning to spread down her shoulder, running to her finger tips to drip onto the floor. “Jesus Christ,” I panic, realizing she’s been shot. “Oh God no.”
I look around the warehouse, hoping to find something to stop the bleeding. Jittery, my adrenaline spiking, I rush to the bed and grab the dingy sheet draped over it. I tear a piece away, pressing it to Celia’s wound. She whimpers, her body bowing toward me.
“Come on, baby, stay with me. You’re gonna be okay,” I tell her watching her face pale. Her eyes become heavy and she sways in front of me. I don’t know if the bullet is still inside her shoulder, if it’s left. I don’t know if she’s losing too much blood or if it’s just the shock of the gun shot that’s making her this way. All I know is she looks white. Too white. Deathly white. “No, dammit, Celia!”
It’s funny the way your focus locks in on one particular thing and has the ability to tune everything else out. How you can’t see past the object of your concentration no matter what may be going on around you. Even if it’s or death, good versus evil. It’s funny because in that moment, my eyes can’t tear themselves away from Celia’s terrified ones. They can’t move from the gushing wound stealing her life-force from her body.
It’s funny because I know I can’t lose sight of my surroundings, but seeing Celia hurt, everything else fades away.
Fades away until suddenly, Celia’s eyes widen in panic at something behind me and she tries to push me out of her way, weak and fumbling. I watch in astonishment, unbelieving what’s before my eyes, as she shakily lifts the gun and squeezes the trigger four times. I watch her flinch at the sound, stumble from the kickback, and then drop the weapon altogether before falling once more into me.
TWENTY-FOUR
Cecelia throws up whatever she’d eaten for lunch that day. She throws up food from the day before too. Then she once more collapses against me in deep heaving sobs.
I chance a glance back toward where her eyes had been focused, back to where her aim had been directed, to where Hagen should have been behind me, down from the beating I gave him, and see him splayed out on the hard floor. Though I had done a lot of damage pummeling his face, the deep red sweeping across his belly is much worse.
His eyes are open and his chest is no longer moving.
He’s dead.
Shot.
Cecelia killed him.
She killed him protecting me, us. And now she’s destroyed over it. Worse, she’s still shot.
We need to move. We need to take action. We definitely can’t be here. “Okay, okay, it’ll be okay.” I lower her to the sofa so she’s no longer trying to maintain ene
rgy standing on her feet and try to come up with a plan. With our video playing in the background, moans reverberating through the warehouse, I grab Hagen’s phone and pocket it. I’ll need to make phone calls to get us away from here. I also know we can’t leave evidence of our presence behind.
Looking at all the flickering candles, knowing film burns, I decide the only course of action I can take is to burn the place down.
I glance back at Hagen. Watching his blood spill out onto the concrete, I feel my own stomach desire to be emptied too.
It’s one thing to decide to kill someone, it’s entirely another to go through with it. I’m terrified this whole night will change Celia utterly. I fear it will destroy all the progress she’s made in sobriety, in trying to find a peaceful life. I just hope I can make her understand she did it to save us. That she had no other choice.
“Okay baby, let’s get you out of here,” I return back to her, lifting her gently off the sofa. She’s weak, losing blood quickly so I know I have to move fast. I cradle her in my arms and dash to the door we’d come in. I don’t see anyone outside, noting the car we came in is in fact, gone. I’m glad for that. I don’t have the energy or strength to take anyone on right now.
Settling Celia on her feet but leaning her against the side of the building, I hold her face in my hands. “I will be right back. Yell if something happens.”
“Don’t leave me,” she begs but I shake my head.
“I’ll be right back. I swear it.”
Darting back inside, I move back to the bed, grabbing what’s left of the sheet I’d tore up. I pick a candle up and light the end of the sheet, hating how long it takes to ignite, before tossing it onto the mattress and kicking another at the sofa. Thankfully both pieces of furniture light up and start to smoke. I see Hagen’s blood catch, the dark red liquid boiling against the heat, and know I need to hurry. With one last look at the projector screen, seeing myself cradle Celia on film, I knock the projector over, see it hit the flame and dart back outside.
Cecelia startles as I come upon her and lift her back into my arms. I don’t waste time though trying to calm her panic at my surprise reappearance. I just run as best I can away.
And the Sweet (Addiction Series Book 2) Page 21