by T. L Smith
“Not today, Toska, but soon. I’ll fucking kill you,” I threaten. Turning, I walk out the back door the same way I came in.
“You don’t even remember, do you?” Her voice is weak, but there’s certainly some clarity to it. Touching the doorframe, I turn back to see her eyes stained red from the tears that have left her face. Ignoring her, I run out through the back and head straight to my car, taking off before Syler can catch me. Because if he does, well, we all know how I am once Syler’s hands touch my skin. I’m fucked.
Chapter 14
In My Bed
The minute my hands shut my front door and lock it, my cell starts ringing. I know it’s Syler before I even go near it, before I even see the screen. He’s a genius after all when it comes to hunting people down. Toska wouldn’t be ringing me, not right now, she’d be too traumatized. But I know soon she’ll be coming after me. I may have been so caught up in all things Syler through it all, but I also wasn’t dumb. I studied her during our time together. She was a subject I didn’t even know I had. Studying her became something I did when Syler worked. She didn’t know I did it, though. I guess I got that from my father. But she was an easy read once you pushed close enough.
Maybe that was the problem, people weren’t looking closely enough at her. Not even her brother did. Yes, he was her protector, but he didn’t delve deeper than that.
My cell continues to vibrate in my pocket, so I pull it out to see his number on the screen and throw it on the kitchen counter. I may have gotten ridden of my other cell, the one they were using to track me, but I knew it wouldn’t be long until he found my new number. He’s a damn genius when it comes to hacking and all things computers.
Stepping into my bedroom, my window is open, and he’s standing in my room with his cell to his ear, watching me. While he pulls his away in slow motion, I go to reach for mine in my pocket, then swear when I remember I just took it out.
My heart starts hammering hard in my chest.
Will he kill me?
Or give me to her.
“That was foolish.” His voice steals my breath away. God, how I’ve missed it. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath just to bask in it a little longer. “Mouse.” Opening my eyes, he’s now standing in front of me, stealing everything I have left. He wants it all, and I don’t want to give it to him. I want to take it back, but I’m weak when it comes to him. Syler’s hand touches me, the way it always does, stealing pieces of me like they were his to begin with. They aren’t. Pulling my arm back, he looks up at me like I’ve lost my mind. Maybe I have.
“Syler.” Before I can say another word he’s on me, his body slamming mine into the wall behind me and his hands trapping either side of my head.
“You’ll come back to me, Mouse. We are meant to be. Two fucked up souls, fucking each other.”
My head shakes. No, I won’t go back. Why would I do that to myself? Look where I ended up. Half dead on a fucking river bank, having no idea how I even got there in the first place.
“You betrayed me! You picked her over me.”
He nods his head then dips it down on my neck, tracing his nose along the line of my collarbone. A shiver takes over me, my breathing becoming heavier.
“There is no choosing, Mouse. You’re mine.” His lips find mine and the simplest of touch consumes me. How I let him have this power over me baffles me. How I gave him that power in the first place confuses me even more.
He groans into my mouth, his hands pushing at my body, touching every surface as I stay against the wall. Turning my lips to the side, I try to break our kiss, but his kisses simply continue on my cheek and down my neck. Lifting my shirt with his hands, he exposes my breasts through the lace bra I’m wearing. His hot mouth works its way down until he reaches my nipples, sucking them through the lace then dropping down further.
Syler’s lips cover my body, while I stand there trying to not be consumed by him. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. My hands automatically go to his hair—it’s the first time I’ve willingly reached out to grab him. Usually, it only happens with his consent. He doesn’t stop me, though, or even pull my hands away. He lets me thread my hands through his hair as he slips my leather leggings from my body, exposing me to him.
“Tell me you love me, Mouse.”
I ignore him. That won’t happen again. Not this time. That was a one-time event.
“No.”
Syler stops. I can feel his smile even though I can’t see it. He kisses the top of my pussy, then drops lower to kiss me where I like it. Then he blows hot air and swipes his tongue along my folds. When he thinks he’s teased me enough, he leans back to look up at me. His perfect jaw, his perfect hair, his perfectly fucked up personality stares up at me like I’m his.
But I can tell lies, even I’ve become good at them.
“Your eyes are buried in lies, did you know that?”
Syler stands to step back from me, then starts removing his clothes fast. He traps me in place, and I don’t move. He doesn’t even give me time to look at him. I love to stare, and because I can’t touch him, I want to memorize every curve, every arch of his perfectly carved body.
“Lies....” he repeats to my mouth, so close I can taste myself.
“Just the way you tried to bury me in them.”
His lip quirks, that side smirk he has mastered fucks me over every time. But it also scares the fuck out of me how easily he can mold and shape me into anything he wants at any time.
“If I were to bury you in my lies, Mouse, I would be right there with you.” He lifts me up, so my legs automatically wrap around him, and I can feel his hardness at my entrance.
“I plan to take you with me, in the same way I plan to take her.” His eyes close before they reopen. Then he pushes himself inside of me, watching my every move and waiting for that moment, that perfect moment where everything disappears, and I get so lost in him that he steals everything I am. He lives for these moments—he’s told me so countless times.
I’m completely his, no one else’s.
He slides in and out of me.
Not caring anymore, I lift my hands and place them on his shoulders. Syler stills and I wait for him to start moving again and the moment he does my hands do as well, gliding up and down his back. I touch every part of him I can reach, every part that I’ve never been able to touch of my own free will. He grits his teeth then bites my lip, but I don’t stop. Not even when I taste my own blood from his fierce lips attacking mine.
“Jaya.” Syler says my name, my real name, and it does something to my heart every time he states it, but that doesn’t stop me either. My hands glide to the front, touching his stomach. I expect him to pull away and drop me, but he doesn’t. He absorbs all that I’m taking and doesn’t stop me.
My hands lift and run through his hair, my mouth nibbling on his ear just before I whisper to him as I come, “You love me, Syler Hunter, but the thing is I’m falling out of love with you.”
He stops, pulls back, dropping my feet back to the floor.
It was a lie.
But he doesn’t need to know that.
If I could stop what I feel for him, I would in a heartbeat. Syler’s not my idea of normal love. No. Ours is a disjointed love that can’t seem to find a way to fit together properly.
It’s fucked.
Everything about us is fucked.
There’s nothing normal, conventional, or ordinary about any of this.
Syler’s eyes are wild, his teeth bared. He didn’t expect for those words to be spoken. He obviously didn’t think I knew, but I know. I couldn’t have fallen for him without him giving me something in return, and not just his cock. No. I need more. And each touch I received when he thought I was sleeping, or the way he would hold me, it was quite plain for me to see. For me to feel. He built my love up, so it was fastened to him, and I did the same with each touch and glance I stole from him. I wasn’t going to be in this by myself—that was not happening. It might ha
ve taken me to this moment to figure it out and piece it all together, but Syler Hunter is madly in love with me just the same way I am with him.
But the question is...
Who does he love more?
And I don’t think it’s me.
That’s already been proven time and time again.
His cock is still hard, and his breathing is becoming deeper as he stares right into my soul. My body is tired, tired from it all. I hear my name called, and I look around over my shoulder at the closed door. I hear the front door slam as my father calls my name again.
“I’ll be out soon,” I yell at him.
Turning back around, I watch as Syler pulls on his jeans, then slides his shirt over his head before he glances back at me as he backs up toward the window.
“Don’t come back, Syler. Don’t ever come back.”
His lip lifts and that sexy smirk appears. “I can’t stay away from you any more than you can stay away from me.”
He’s right. No matter how many days I took away from being consumed by him, the drug of him is far too powerful. He’s like a sex addiction, the pull is way too strong, and it always seems to lead to negative consequences.
“How wrong you are. You see, you’re a possession of someone I hate more than the person who killed my mother. How do you think that changes my feelings for you, Syler?” My hand flings to my hip, and I watch him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something. His eyes glance down then back at me, but his smirk is now gone from that beautiful face.
“I won’t choose.”
A stray tear leaves my eye and traverses down my cheek and falls to the floor. “You don’t have to, I already have for you.” Reaching for the towel hanging on the back of the chair next to where I’m standing, I drape it over my naked body.
He attempts to step closer to me. “You can’t.”
I nod my head. “I did! Isn’t it easier this way? It will make it simpler to hate each other, especially when I kill her.”
My father knocks on my door. My head swivels around to check it’s locked, but when I look back to Syler, he’s gone. The only thing that’s left is the key that I used to wear around my neck, the same one he took from me and never took off.
Until now.
Chapter 15
Key to Happiness
The key that he gave back to me sits proudly around my neck, back where it belongs. Intertwining it between my fingers at the breakfast table, my father watches me with interest. His eyes fall on the necklace, and he freezes the spoon he was using to stir his coffee as he continues to stare at it. “Where did you get that?” he asks, only looking up at me briefly before he glances back to it.
“It was hers...” I’m careful to not say mother’s name around him.
“Have you always had it?”
I nod my head, and he stands to knock his chair back then walks away. Tucking the necklace back into my shirt, I sit there confused, then I hear his footsteps coming back. I stand up, and he walks straight up to me with a box in his hand. It’s a carved wooden box, and on the top are my initials. My finger touches it, trailing a pattern over it.
“I’ve never been able to open it, now I know why.” He nods his head to the necklace that holds the key. It’s a distinctive key, one that stands out from your basic everyday design. Pulling it from my neck, I place it to the keyhole of the box and look up at my father. He nods his head while sitting down in his chair next to me like he can’t bear to stand. The key slides in a little further with a click, I turn it, and the box unlocks with a snap. His breath expels heavily as I lift the lid, and my hands shake as I gaze inside. I don’t know much about my mother, only what I can remember. He never speaks of her at all.
What’s she hiding?
Will this tell me more about who she was?
Lifting up a delicate piece of paper, I see a picture of New York underneath it, followed by other pictures of different locations, then there’s another piece of paper right at the bottom. Opening it, I read it out loud so he can hear me.
“My dearest Jaya. This is now your treasure travel box. It was my treasure travel box, and it’s full of all the places I wanted to see in this world, the places I wanted to discover. I’m hoping you will, too. I added a few I’ve been to, and where I believe you must see. Like New York in the winter, go ice skating at Central Park, or go see the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. There’s nothing like it in this world. Steal pieces of each location for yourself, and I promise you will grow even more for it. I love you, so much. Go and play with your soul, baby, it’s waiting to be found.” A tear leaves my eye, and my father is also crying when I look up at him. He shakes his head, and I pull the last piece of paper from the box. It’s a check, and it’s for thousands of dollars. I smile, and when I show my father, he smiles as well.
“I was wondering what she was doing with all that money. She told me to never touch it, and I never have. I’m sure the account is double what’s written on that check.” My hands shake as I look up to my father, a person who I’d never seen emotion from before, and now he’s showing me everything. “She loved to travel, I was happy you never did.”
His words surprise me.
“I want to, I don’t want this anymore.”
He wipes his eyes. “I know, you only stayed because you were lost. She looked just like you did before we traveled, too. So lost.”
“I’m going to do it.”
“You should,” he agrees with me. “Forget about everything here and just go, Jaya.”
I know he’s referring to them. I haven’t even told him much about them, yet he seems to know everything I’m not telling him.
“They’re under investigation for murder right now. She’s our lead suspect in a crime where a man was found dead in a pool a year ago.” My eyes go wide. “Your DNA was found there, Jaya. Tell me you didn’t—”
“Why now?” I ask him.
“A witness came forward.”
My eyes close then reopen, locking onto him. “Did you have any suspects before that?”
“Jaya, what are you not telling me?”
Standing and grabbing my box, I ignore him, walking off to my room. I hear his steps following behind me.
“I know you were there. I found your DNA, Jaya. It’s what I do. Why were they there?”
“It was just a party we went to. We did that often, Dad. It wasn’t unusual to go to a party with them.”
“I can’t protect you if I don’t know the truth.”
“I know, Dad, I know.” Reaching for my keys, I push past him going for my door.
He stops me with his hand on my arm. “Cash that check, and leave.”
Taking a cursory glance back to the box that holds the check, I nod my head, pulling my arm free and walking out of that house.
ONCE YOU ASK, YOU SHALL receive. That’s what they say, right? That’s what happened I asked for Taj’s address and I received it. He wasn’t at his first place, the one where there have been two murders. He was nowhere to be seen there. I was told this is his weekend home. Now here I sit out front of his way-too-large home wondering why I really came.
The large black gates that separates his house from the road begin to open. Putting my car in gear, I drive up Taj’s driveway to find him with his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me with sunglasses covering his eyes. My hands shake as I pull the car to a stop to step out, only to find him already at my door pulling it open.
“Jaya.” My name leaves his lips, and I suppress a shiver that wants to take over my entire body just from his presence. “I told you to leave, Jaya. So why are you sitting out front of my house like a stalker?”
My voice seems to leave me as I step out and press my back against the car as he stands directly in front of me not giving me any room to move.
He. Is. Everywhere.
“I plan to.”
“But you haven’t done what you want to do.”
I shake my head. Taj steps back, removing his sunglasse
s. His eyes pierce me as he stares at me then glances back behind him. He turns and starts walking to his overly large black doors that lead inside his house.
“Are you coming, Jaya?”
I nod and walk up the massive marble steps behind him. The cold air hits me first, followed by loud music playing through some sort of speaker system in the house.
“I thought you lived at...” I don’t say it. Instead, I trail off. I don’t even know how to describe it—the killing house? He stops, but I miss it because I’m too busy checking around at the exquisiteness that is that house and slam straight into his chest.
He smells like sex.
Can a man smell like that naturally? Because he does.
Syler smells of the ocean, and I get lost in him.
Taj smells of all things bad. Mainly sex.
“I own a lot of property. That house has been deemed a crime scene, and it’s not smart for me to be there.”
“You didn’t hand them over?” I ask, referring to that night. He could have told the police what happened because he seemed to know everything. He touches my chin, stroking it. My breathing hitches at his rough, calloused fingers touching me. Syler’s aren’t as rough, only slightly from training with his hatchet. But Taj’s are harsh against my skin, and it makes me wonder what kind of work he does to get such rough hands considering I’ve seen everyone else do his bidding.
“That would include handing you over, and that I couldn’t do. You, Jaya... you interest me.”
“I seem to attract the crazy ones.”
His hand drops, and he laughs. Taj turns and ushers for me to follow him further into the house.