Shallow River

by H. D. Carlton

  “Oh my God!” she gasps, her face tucking into the curve of my neck as the pitches of her moans increase. My mouth travels across her shoulder and up the soft skin of her neck, nipping a path as I go. I grab a fistful of her luscious hair and yank her head back, eliciting another sharp moan from her throat. When I reach the spot right behind her ear, I sink my teeth into the soft flesh, my hips relentlessly pumping into her.

  “Mako!” She writhes against me, the cuffs tinkling loudly from the jostle of our bodies. Sweat beads across my forehead and chest as I fight to keep control. I’ve never felt anything so fucking incredible in my life. She molds to my cock like wet clay.

  “Is this what you needed?” I grit out, enunciating my words with a sharp thrust, producing a little squeak from her throat. “You needed me to fuck this sweet little pussy, didn’t you?”

  “Ungg, yes!” she pants, nodding her head like a bobblehead.

  “Is this what you fantasized about every time you touched your pussy, wishing it was me?”

  Another garbled ‘yes’ comes from her throat. “But it feels so much better,” she gasps, the whites of her eyes nearly taking over.

  “You feel so fucking perfect, baby,” I groan, grinding my hips against hers a few times when she’s seated completely on my cock. I know her clit is sliding against my pelvis just from the high-pitched gasps every time I grind against her.

  She’s getting close, I can feel it. I wrap my arm entirely around her waist, careful of her constrained arms, and prop her further up, once more pistoning my hips with sharp thrusts. The only thing keeping me grounded is my need to make her come first. I refuse to come a second before she does.

  As if reading my thoughts, she gasps out, “Mako, fuck, I’m gonna come!” Her legs tighten against mine and her head begins to tip back. Curses slip from my tongue as the intensity our bodies are creating reaches its peak. My tempo increases as I pound and pound, the wet slap from our bodies connecting rivaling the sounds coming from mine and River’s throat.

  River stills—something she seems to do right before she comes—before her pussy ripples across my cock and she once more loses it. She contracts around me. My name falls from her lips like a desperate prayer, finally snapping my control.

  “Fuck!” The hoarse shout booms from deep in my chest as I completely empty myself inside her, her pussy milking every last drop out of me. My name continues to fill the room as her entire body convulses and shakes against mine, riding our highs together before we inevitably come down.

  I slump further into the bench as her body becomes dead weight on top of me, her face tucked in my neck. We’re both shaking and completely wiped out. Small twitches overtake her limbs, pulling a small grin from me. I grab the keys and quickly unlock the cuffs from her wrists. I laugh when her hands just fall, thumping against my sides.

  “I never knew it was supposed to be like that,” she whispers. I close my eyes tightly, equally proud that I could be the first one to give that to her and angry that every man before me had the nerve to give her less than what she deserves.

  Though they feel like two dead logs, I lift my arms and wrap them around her body, bringing her as close to me as humanely possible.

  “It will always be like that with us,” I promise. “Communication is important to me, River. I’ll test your limits and introduce you to new things, but I will never do anything to truly hurt you. And the moment you don’t like something, I’ll stop and it will never happen again. I want to show you what sex between two people is supposed to be like. Two people who respect and understand each other.”

  She’s deathly silent long enough for me to question everything that just came out of my mouth. But then a sob wracks her body and tears begin to pool in the divot of my neck and shoulder. Panic blooms in my chest.

  “Did I say something wrong?” I ask, rushing to pull her body away from mine so I can look her in the eyes. She protests, curling deeper into body and wrapping her arms around me tightly.

  “No,” she says weakly. “You said everything right. You’re perfect.” The anxiety lessens but doesn’t completely let me go.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She sniffles. “Because I’ve waited my whole life for someone like you. And now that I finally found it, I’m fucking terrified of losing it.”

  I close my eyes, a harsh exhale releasing the lingering panic. I grab either side of her head and softly lift her head until her wet, red-rimmed eyes are looking back at me. My heart seizes and contracts. She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

  “I get it. That’s how I’ve felt for months now. But if I have anything to do with it, River, that won’t ever happen.”

  Her eyes close, her long black lashes clumped together with tears splaying across her reddened cheeks. She relents and nods her head.

  “Okay. I can accept that.”

  “I HATE TO RUIN our little high, but… I need to go see Barbie.” Not we, but I.

  Can’t lie and say those words don’t deflate my high like a fucking balloon.

  “Right now?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” I question, sliding my foot into my boot and lacing it up. Her scent is all over me now and if I was a lesser man, I’d never want to shower again.

  She sighs. “I need to collect rent.”

  My brow furrows. I thought she was done going there for something so trivial. I highly doubt Barbie pays River very much in rent. But maybe she’s worried about money. I suppose without Ryan, she figures she’ll need to start supporting herself again.

  “We both know that’s not safe, River,” I say calmly, resting my elbows on my spread knees and lacing my fingers together. I look over at her, studying her blank face. She’s sitting on the edge of the bench, her spine straight and her own fingers clasped tightly together. She looks like she’s on the verge of running.

  “I know,” she agrees. Her downcast eyes lift to mine. Something is lurking in the depths of her honey orbs—an emotion I can’t pinpoint. A rock settles in my chest and my stomach curdles like I drank spoiled milk.

  “You know,” I echo slowly. “What if Billy is there?” I prod, recalling the boogieman from her childhood and the man who beat her to a bloody pulp. The man I’m dying to get my hands on and conduct my own torture on. If I wasn’t studying her like an archeologist studies hieroglyphics, I would’ve missed the slight flinch at the mention of his name. The reaction stirs all kinds of feelings inside of me. It doesn’t matter how much River tries to hide it—she’s terrified of Billy.

  All the more reason to get acquainted with him.

  “He won’t be,” she states firmly, sure of herself. I don’t know how she could possibly know that, but if I know anything about this stubborn woman is it doesn’t matter what I say, she’s going to go anyways.

  “I’m coming with you then.” Her eyes widen and whip to me. A protest forms on her tongue, but I tighten my lips and give her a sharp warning look, shaking my head once. Her shoulders deflate in defeat. If she knows anything about me, it doesn’t matter what she says, I’m going to come anyways.

  Twenty Three

  River

  I FUCKED UP.

  The moment those words left my mouth, I knew I fucked up. I should’ve known better than to tell Mako I’m going to see Barbie. But I didn’t know how to leave after we just did… well that, and it not be awkward. You don’t just leave with a ‘see you later’ when someone fucks you the way Mako fucked me.

  My stomach tightens with heady desire and a sharp thrill for the millionth time when I recall what we did only twenty minutes ago. It’s fucking pathetic of me to already want to do it again. And again. And a-fucking-gain.

  I need to see Barbie, though. I’ve waited far too long already, too busy cocooning myself in the house and away from prying eyes. The Ghost Killer—or Billy—is still out there. I was hoping to gain more information from Barbie as I try to figure out how the hell I’m supposed to tell Mako who the Ghost Killer is. He’s g
oing to hate me, I already know it. He’s put so much time and energy into finding him, and I’ve known from the moment he told me about the killings, and I haven’t said a damn thing.

  But now, Mako wants to come. So, the only thing I can do is collect the much needed rent and find another time to talk to Barbie. If anyone would know anything, it’s her. She didn’t know about Billy’s killings before, but now that it’s been brought to her attention, she’s going to weasel any information she can get. If Barbie is good for anything besides selling her body, it’s getting information.

  Dread settles in my chest as Mako opens his car door for me, waiting for me to slide in. Bringing Mako here is such a bad idea.

  “Maybe we should just not go,” I say, cringing as the words come out of my mouth, awkward and very fucking suspicious. His eyes narrow on me. I shift, uncomfortable with the way he’s scrutinizing me.

  “I’d feel better doing this while I’m with you,” he says finally. Goddamn it. He knows me too well. Well enough to know that I want to go by myself. And there’s no way Mako’s going to let that happen. Not after I already opened my big mouth and divulged some of the things Billy put me through, and especially not after Billy nearly beat me to death.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. There’s no getting out of this and the only person I can be angry with is myself. Stupid sex-induced brain. Sex with Mako is dangerous if it completely halts the ability to think properly.

  Don’t freak, River. Just go in, get the money, and leave. Simple.

  Nothing with Shallow Hill is ever simple.

  The entire time I’m giving Mako directions, I’m tempted to just make him drive to a random, empty house and claim she’s not home. There are plenty of abandoned houses in Shallow Hill. It would be easy. But something feels wrong about lying to Mako even more than I already am.

  He pulls into the driveway of my decrepit childhood home. Just like every other house in this sad town, the white panels are hardly white and hanging on by a thread. Boarded up windows from explosive fights between Barbie and her clients. A rickety wooden porch with a collapsed step and a hole in it from when someone fell through.

  It’s fucking embarrassing to say the least.

  “You don’t have to come in, Mako.”

  He’s already opening the door and rounding the car to open mine for me. My heart drops when I see Barbie’s beady little eyes peeking through the tattered curtains.

  The dread cements inside my chest. I’m going to need a jackhammer to clear it out when this is all said and done.

  I drag my feet walking into the house, Mako on my heels. His presence is overpowering and suffocating when all I want to do is remove him from this house.

  “Well who the fuck do we have here?” Barbie says from the kitchen entrance, her arms crossed across her frail body. Her eyes are eating Mako up, clearly enjoying the view based off the unfiltered excitement in her eyes. “Oh, this is an upgrade, dear. Much better than the last one you brought home. That one looked like he fucked himself with a stick for pleasure.”

  I can’t help it. I snort in response. Sometimes I can appreciate the honestly from Barbie’s mouth, even if the venom she spews is mostly directed towards me.

  “Barbie, this is Mako. Don’t scare him away,” I warn.

  A sinful smirk stretches across her face. This is Barbie in action, even though she knows Mako will never give her the time of day. Mako, ever the gentleman, gives a curt, “Hello, Barbie.” Her eyes widen when she gets a taste of his voice. Deep—so fucking deep, especially when he’s saying the dirtiest things in your ear while at least nine inches deep inside you. I shiver at the memory.

  Even when Mako realizes that he’s going to hate me instead of love me, I will cherish that memory until the day I die.

  “What do you want?” Barbie says, forcing her eyes away from the magnetic man behind me. It takes serious effort on her part, I know this from experience. The usual venom in her voice is absent. Probably too enthralled by Mako.

  “Rent time,” I chirp. Her face falls, rolling her eyes dramatically and turning to walk in the kitchen. When Barbie isn’t in her room fucking, she’s in the kitchen smoking, injecting, or snorting. It took four cigarettes to keep me in that kitchen—the same place Billy granted me with new nightmares—last time I was here. Smoking in front of Mako just feels wrong.

  The only thing that unsticks my feet from the ground is the reminder that I have Mako here with me. His strength silently bleeds into me, giving me the courage I need to revisit my personal Hell.

  The kitchen is in the same state it was last time I was here. And every time before that since I can remember. I watch Mako’s eyes take in every detail. The overwhelming urge to blindfold him is almost too much to bear. I hate him seeing the place I grew up in. I didn’t like Ryan seeing it, either, but something about Mako discovering where I came from feels different.

  With Ryan, I felt like I had to impress him. Prove something to him. And this dingy house doesn’t exist on any lists to impress your boyfriend with. Ryan sneered and looked down on this house and Barbie. The whole experience left me embarrassed and with a bad taste in my mouth, and I’m almost sure it made Ryan look at me with a little less awe.

  With Mako, I just want to protect him from this life. Not because I feel the need to impress him, but because I’m terrified that he’ll pity me. The last thing I need is pity.

  But of course, Mako always surprises me. The very thing that diminished in Ryan’s eyes is the same thing shining from Mako’s as he stares down at me. Awe. He doesn’t need to say the words now, he’s already said them before. He’s… proud that I came from a hellhole like this and became the woman I am today. Even if I am a murderer. It doesn’t matter to Mako. Not when the person I killed deserved every single thing I did to him.

  “Do you have the money?” I ask impatiently. Barbie’s sitting in her usual chair, puffing on a cigarette.

  “Can’t you come here to visit your mother for once? You only come here for money. You’re starting to make me feel used.”

  I give her a dry look. “Cute, Barbie. Real cute.”

  Blackness dances on the edges of my vision. I hate being in this kitchen.

  “River ever tell you the story on how she got her name?” Barbie prompts, looking Mako up and down like a slab of meat. I’d correct her if I wasn’t guilty of doing the same thing every time I’m around him.

  “No.” His response is short and concise. I’d say uninterested if it wasn’t for the quirk of a brow aimed my way. I sigh, the regret from bringing Mako anywhere near this place deepening.

  “I went into labor in the middle of runnin’ for my life,” Barbie starts, focusing her attention on the worn table. “I thought it would be harder to get caught if I was in the river out there.” She nods her heads towards the direction of still, dirty river. “Figured he couldn’t catch me that way. Here I am, gettin’ chased by one of the scariest men alive, and that’s when River decides she wants to make an entrance. I’m screamin’ and cryin’, beggin’ for my life while actively trying to keep a baby from coming out my body.” A dry chuckle slithers from her cracked lips. “But River wasn’t havin’ it. She wanted out right then and there. So, the water is up to my chest, Billy can’t see what’s goin’ on. He’s coming up behind me, gun in his hand and already raised to my head, and then just stops cold when I lift River up and he hears the first cries from a little baby.” She pauses, and brings her weathered, blank eyes to me. “River is what ultimately saved my life that day. As soon as Billy heard her cry, he decided he liked the sound of it. And then made it his life’s mission to hear her cry until the day she escaped Shallow Hill.”

  An ominous silence settles over us as the last of Barbie’s words ring out, and then fade into the chill air. I shiver, despite it being hot as hell in this house.

  I’ve always hated that story. The origins of my birth and how I came to be. Billy was getting ready to murder a pregnant woman and let her and her dead baby float along t
he river. Not surprisingly, there’s been more than a few dead bodies pulled out of the river. All nobody’s with no family to speak of and not a soul around that gives a shit. Barbie might’ve been lucky enough to gain some sympathy since she would’ve been pregnant when killed, but not enough to truly search for her killer.

  So many nights, I wished that’s what would’ve happened. I hated myself for being born because if I had only waited a minute longer, I would’ve never existed. I would’ve never endured the torture and abuse that’s never really ended, even twenty-two years later. I would’ve been granted access to heaven without having to endure hell first. I would’ve been free.

  “Your life might’ve been saved, but mine ended that day,” I say, forcing dryness into my tone. She smirks at me, as if she knows how badly that story still affects me. Mako doesn’t say anything, but the edges of his eyes have softened a bit.

  “Money, Barbie,” I remind, snapping my fingers obnoxiously. Being reminded of Billy has lit a new fire under my ass.

  “Don’t have it,” she says shortly.

  Mako comes to stand beside me, crossing his arms across his broad chest and staring down at Barbie with a cocked brow. He’s not looking down his nose at her like he’s better than her—he’s looking down at her to intimidate her.

  For me.

  Shock slaps me in the face when I see Barbie blush from the scrutiny in Mako’s stare. Never in my fucking life have I seen Barbie blush.

  The only thing that snaps me out of my shocked state is the wad of crisp clean bills slapping on the dirty table. Seeing the bills freezes my heart. Clean bills don’t pass through Barbie’s hands. It’s just not something that happens. This town is dirty, and the money is even dirtier.

  “Where did you get that from?” I whisper, staring down at the bills like their live snakes, reared back and ready to bite.

  Barbie glances down at the bills, and then back up at me with an unreadable emotion in her eyes. It almost looks like trepidation, but that word has only ever been associated with Barbie when Billy is involved.