Monochrome My Madness

by Ashleigh Giannoccaro

  I feel a cold breeze on my back, it makes me shiver, but I don’t move I lay there and wallow in my heartbreak over my shitty life a little longer. I inhale a deep breath and prepare to stand when I open my eyes to a man’s dress shoe standing in the water pooled around me. My eyes follow the leg up and find a soaked Callum standing over me fully clothed with his big hand out for me to take. His eyes do not seem evil like they did earlier; they are soft and almost sad. I shiver from the cold and the thought of Callum feeling anything at all. I put my hand in his, and he pulls me to my feet slowly and gently. I feel so small next to him without my heels on. His other hand brushes the wet hair off my face softly pulling it behind my ear and out of my eyes. Then he wipes my tears, he knows I have been crying, and I wonder how long he stood there watching me cry on the floor before I noticed him. I close my eyes because I do not want to see his face when he is feeling sorry for me. I know I am pathetic right now; I just wish he never saw it. Closing my eyes doesn’t stop me feeling. I feel my heart cracking because those gentle eyes are not Callum. I have seen the truth and I cannot un-see it, can’t un-feel the pain he inflicted on me and I can’t undo the deal I have made either. Even now as his hands trace over the marks he made I stiffen in anticipation of more pain. I hold my breath until my lungs burn waiting for a repeat of last night. I try and stop my mind from drifting to the grey, stop thinking of lockbox filled with poison in the next room. My lungs burn for me just to breathe, but I cannot because I am afraid.

  I feel his breath on me as he gets closer, I can smell the whiskey on it. His hands are moving softly on my skin, they are not hurting me as they trace over and over the marks he made last night. They cause a sting where my skin is grazed open. I feel his chest rising and falling against my own with every breath he takes. His shirt brushed against my bare nipples and I can do nothing to stop them from reacting to him. I have to exhale as I start to feel faint and the second, I open my mouth to breath in the oxygen my body craves, it is stolen by his mouth taking mine. Gently with a soft passion that cannot possibly be real. I must be dreaming this. “Stop.” I whisper, but he doesn’t listen.

  The quiet indulgence of his kiss has my mind at war with my body, he has ignited something in me. He is still possessive but softly so, and his touch is not to wound but to want, I am confused and aroused and not grey at all as my hands claw at his wet clothing. I know the power his body conceals and it scares me, but I want it, I want to embrace that fear right now. At this moment, Callum wants me, in my weakness and brokenness despite my being a killer right now he wants me. In addition, my stupid body betrays me by wanting him too.

  There is no grey, there is no grey and he isn’t hurting me. I may not kill him - today.

  “What are you?” I whisper to him as his soft touches drive me a little crazier.

  “I’m too many things to define, Shannon, but right now I am yours.” His deep voice melts any defence I thought I had. He has removed the fear from me and I forget everything.

  “How can you be both?” I let my jumbled thoughts escape through my mouth as he kisses a trail down my neck to my breasts. His hands are still rough, but there is no pain.

  “Shannon, shhh, stop thinking. Feel me.” He silences me with a kiss before we stumble onto my bed still wet.

  SHE HAS BEEN IN THE SHOWER what seems like forever, I think she is avoiding me, no I know she is avoiding me. Aside from a few cold words she has completely ignored me, tried to pretend I am not here. Why am I here? She is a brat, acting like a child.

  I wait as long as my impatient self will allow before I feel a simmer of anger at her actions and I go to find her. I am not prepared for what I find, not at all, I never spend this amount of time with a woman I don’t know what to expect or how to deal with it when I do. I hear the water running in the bathroom, the door is open and she is apparently not used to company either. Her clothes are on the floor in a heap. I get a pang of hurt when I see her, she is curled in a ball on the shower floor. Her body heaves with sobs I can hear them as I step closer she hasn’t even registered my presence.

  It is not her cries, the nakedness of her or the apparently broken spirit that I see that takes my breath from me. It is the marks on her body, the marks I made, the hurt I put on her in my madness last night. I have never had to see what I did the day after, it is fucking awful, no fucking wonder she is crying. How has she made it through the entire day without even a murmur of that pain she must be in? I am fucking monster, I did that to this beautiful woman. I did that. I work hard to contain the anger I feel my own actions. I step into the shower as I am fully clothed and just stand there, she doesn’t move, she doesn’t stop crying she is a mess on the floor - and I made it.

  For the first time in my miserable fucking life, I am sorry for something, I want to fix my mess. Yes, I said the first time. I don’t have a guilty conscience not even for killing her sister, I feel the wrong things remember.

  Why do I care about this woman, what makes her unique? Why am I standing in the shower with my clothes on wanting to make her feel better? When last night I just wanted to hurt her, break her, pull the screams from her lungs and mar her skin. She is messing with my fucking head. Fucking with my monster, and I cannot have that! I cannot have a conscience. Not now, not ever.

  My clothes stick to my skin, and the water flows over my face as I watch her suffer in her own torment. I have no doubt I am the cause of her tears and her breakdown. She has showed no sign of weakness in front of me at all. She seemed so in control of everything, the way, she looked as Joel died, was the most stunning thing I have ever seen. She seemed unbreakable, but I have broken her.

  She finally moves and her green eyes look up at me, sad swollen and hurting. I hold out a hand to help her up. She doesn’t want to take it, but she does anyway. I pull her up in front of me, naked and hurt and fucking beautiful, her chest still moving as she tries to quiet her sobs. She closes her eyes so I cannot see into her soul like I want to so badly. She is the mirror image of her sister as I wipe her tears like I did for Cassie so many times. I move her hair away from her face so I see her features, she is holding her breath at my touch her body is completely still, almost dead. My hands trace every inch of her skin that I have marked, I feel the goosebumps erupt under my touch. Still she doesn’t take a breath, I move even closer so our chest's touch and she can feel my breath against her.Her breasts feel so good, so soft and tempting against me. She has to take a breath eventually. Even bruised and broken her body is irresistible, she is like porcelain ornament and my marks are the cracks. I want her, all of her, not her sister, her. I want to make her mine not just an arrangement but truly fucking mine. I don’t want to have to hurt her; I want to find a way to have her without the madness. My hand traces her shoulder blade and finally, she takes a breath and I steal it. I take her mouth and her breath I want to make her understand that she is mine, she was made for me. I kiss her gently and she claws at me with fire in her, I touch her softly and she rips at my clothing. She doesn’t want to kill me right now, she just wants me. I can work with want. I want her too.

  I was planning for this to be a show, to pretend to be tender and soft, but I saw what I did now I actually want to be that way. I genuinely want to be soft and gentle and make her forget the monster for a while. I know she won’t forget forever her body’s reaction to me says she is already anticipating and waiting on the madness and the hurt. I can control it; it is not even there right now. I am free of the madness while I am touching her. While I kiss her, while I own her she is safe. While I can see the marks and she is broken and weak I, can be soft, because when I see that, the madness is gone.

  We need to get out of the shower the water has turned cold and my clothes are slowing me down. I start to remove the wet material without letting her mouth go. My jacket and shirt drop to the floor and I toe off my shoes. I fumble to get my belt buckle lose and her hands find mine to help me. I finally get my soaking wet pants down my legs and off. She hasn’t opened
her eyes once as my hands and mouth explore her body, she has relaxed into the moment. I feel her gasp against my skin as her body brushes against me. She knows what she has done to me, she can feel just how hard I am for her.

  I reach for taps and shut the water off my clothing is blocking the drain and we will flood the bathroom soon. She opens her puffy eyes at the sudden rush of cold air and looks right at me. I see her, I finally see her, she is in there with the killer and the stern face there is a person who is aching to feel something. Is she feeling what I feel right now

  For once I feel something that is right, not all the way right, but better than anything that has come before it. I carry her to her bed where our wet bodies feel every inch of each other with no madness or murder. Dare I fucking say it – I think my cold heart just beat for this woman.

  I slowly and softly take every part of her for myself. Not to hurt her, I don’t want to hear her screams, but the soft moans of her desire are healing me slightly and some of the madness leaves me with each touch. Like this, she is so stunning, liquid and soothing the way her body moved with mine and not against it. She is fucking gorgeous. I don’t want this to end, I want it to go on forever. I desire so much more than she can or will give me. I need her to want me the way her body craves me.

  “Don’t stop, please, please don’t.” She arches into me her hands on my butt pulling me closer. I didn’t even realize I had stopped as I thought of what the future held.

  “I’m not stopping my poisonous little ghost, I am only beginning.” I feel her tense waiting for the calm to change into a storm. It doesn’t we both take what we need as I make love – fuck me – I love her. I made love to a woman and it was life changing, mind altering and soul crushing because she will never love me.

  HOURS LATER SHE IS FINALLY asleep next to me, I couldn’t let myself drift off because I don’t trust her. Especially not when I know this is where she keeps her poison stash. I find her stockings from earlier and bind her hands to the headboard so she cannot kill me while I sleep and I finally fall into a restful slumber for the first time in months. My body close to her hers feels right and I put my arm around her small waist and drift away. I am sleeping next to the most deadly woman in town and I can sleep and not with one eye open.

  “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK CALLUM!” I shriek at the top of my lungs, my bladder bursting for a pee and I can’t fucking move. He tied me to the bed; he fucking tied me to the bed AGAIN!! “You have one minute to fucking let me go before I piss in this bed and then kill you Callum,” I yell trying my hardest to wake his cuddling ass up.

  He opens his eyes still half asleep and smiles a stupid smile at me; he is touching me, lying next to me. Cuddling, Callum is fucking cuddling me. My mind cannot work with that so early and I need to pee. He rolls on top of me and kisses me as he undoes the knots holding me hostage in my bed. I can’t think past my full bladder and his body pressing on it, his hard hot body is on me, he kissing me softly and I am not hurting. Well, not more than I already was. I shove him off as soon as my hands are free and I retreat to the loo. I can’t close the door because it’s broken so my momentary reprieve from Callum doesn’t last long and he comes to find me. I just want two minutes with him not in my space to let my brain work and maybe pee in relative peace.

  He stands in the doorway filling it and blocking my only escape route, the second-floor window is not an option. Last night flashes through my mind, soft gentle, fucking amazing. But that is not who is standing in the doorway now. Callum is back and he looks pissed at my retreat. I knew it was all an illusion, a lie to make me weak.

  “I don’t want to pretend to date you Shannon – and I don’t want you to pretend to date me either.” Oh, fuck no Mr. Charming now you want to throw me to the wolves. I am about to launch into a slew of curse words and insults when he steps towards me and starts talking again. He lifts my chin with his finger so I am looking into his eyes where I cannot hide from him. “I want to date you, fuck you and make you mine for real. I want you to want that. Make no mistake, I will not let you leave even if that is not what you want, but I am telling you what I want. I cannot promise not to hurt you because I will, I will do it often. I can’t control it any more than you can control your kill cycle. I do promise to make sure you don’t kill me.” Is he fucking mad? Is my brains response but my gut or my fucking heart says I want what he wants. I want to feel like I do with him. And right now I don’t want to kill him. Which is like a kick in my lady balls. What is happening to me? Am I losing my mind like my mother?

  This is so not the conversation to be having naked and cornered on the toilet. I cannot answer him as I am suddenly aware of myself and being on the loo. He interrupted my pee. He is the most fucked up person I have ever met. I knew he’d be the end of me, I just knew it. I can’t make words so I nod not even looking in his eyes they are evil again today. Not the ones from the shower or my bed last night the ones from the funeral. I try to look past him, but he makes my look at him. His fingers gripping my chin forcing me to see him.

  “Look at me Shannon and use words to answer me, please.” He bites at me. I want to be strong and fight and claw and be rational and run away, but I don’t, I cry. I fucking cry again. Tears trickle slowly down my cheeks and onto his hand. I didn’t want him to see me cry again.

  “I can’t answer you Callum because I don’t know what to say! I don’t know what I want or how I feel or anything. You have bulldozed into my life, my home my job and my fucking heart!” I am yelling now and I cannot stop. “I don’t want to want you, but I do. I am afraid all you see is Cassie’s ghost, I am afraid I will kill you. And I probably will. I am afraid of the way you hurt me, but I am even more afraid of the softness I saw in you for a second because that Callum could fucking kill me. So there are words for you. I fucking don’t know. You haven’t given me a moment to think, to clear my mind, to fucking breathe or even pee. I don’t know Callum.” I am having trouble catching my breath and my heart is racing. I am ugly crying and I know it. My teeth are clenched as are my fists, I can feel the rage, but there is no grey with it just the burn of a dull ache in my chest. An unbearable, agonizing pain I cannot explain.

  I wait for him to respond. I shouldn’t have. He just turns around pulls on his wet boxers off the floor and leaves my home. Not a word, not a goodbye. Fucking nothing.

  I hear his car start. He left, he went outside in the freezing cold wearing only his boxers and left.

  I imagine him walking through the hotel lobby in his wet undies and the looks he will get and I feel a stab of jealousy at the thought of anyone seeing him that way. In an instant, I know I have made the mistake of falling for Callum. The ache turns to a punch in the gut at the realisation of what that means. I am about to lose a critical part of myself and replace it with a man that has the eyes of the devil and heart of ice. A man who will hurt me in so many ways.

  THREE FUCKING DAYS, three days and still not a single word from him. I don’t even think anyone has fucking seen him. The family discovered Joel’s untimely death and they are all on their toes over what Connor may have done to cause such wrath. I know what he did, he broke a little boy and then he broke the man that boy became. Stupidly he underestimated that boy. Callum is the product of his family and of the way they treated him. I know because I am a product of both my family and his. The ache won’t go away it is there all the time, nothing soothes it.

  The surgery has been busy with little accidents happening all over, the help of the new doctor has been a weight off me. I have let Dr Conley Duncan take over most of the shitty work and anyone I don’t want to deal with. In other words, all the O’Reilly’s.

  Megan, I am sure, is stalking the new doctor and follows him everywhere, even on Facebook. The man is not ugly, he is handsome and seems genuinely good, but his family owes the O’Reilly’s something or he wouldn’t be here. I have kept our interactions professional only and have actually spent large portions of my day trying to avoid him and his uncomfortable st
ares. He would be dead by the end of the week if I didn’t. He was what girls drooled over, lusted for and then settled down with, the opposite of Callum. I will leave him for Megan; she could use a decent man in her life.

  I am hiding in my office when I hear Megan sputtering off about how busy I am with someone; the bell on the door had alerted me to the fact that we had a patient. Dr Conley can handle it I am sure. I concentrate on the screen in front of me and continue to order the supplies and meds we need for the surgery. I am enjoying the mundaneness of these tasks compared with what I typically deal with every day. I feel him enter my space; he sucks the air right out of my office, my skin prickles as the goose bumps creep up and over my arms. I thought he gave up, he walked away in his fucking undies and never returned, not even a damn text. I look anywhere but up, my half full coffee cup is next to me I am sure it’s cold but I take a sip of it, I want to gag at the cold milky liquid. I still don’t look up I sense him getting closer to me. My body reacts to him, my palms sweat my heart quickens, my stomach rolls with waves of apprehension and I feel my breath catching on every exhale. My mind still says fuck him, he walked away after he confessed all that fucked up shit made me act like a fool and then walked out in his undies! Fuck him! Stop body, he is not a nice person. Neither are you, my brain answers right back. The pain in my chest goes away as he comes even closer.