He flipped open his phone, using the light it cast to illuminate his path, ensuring he didn’t fall or trip over the scattered debris on the floor. That definitely would not do. Although he was pretty sure he could walk this path in his sleep.
He knew there was an old wheelchair sitting in front of a rusted out shell of a hospital bed, both items taking up the corner to the left of the musty, damp room. Even though the light from his phone was dim, he was able to see the mold that slinked up the cold, cement block walls.
He glanced at the decrepit bed with it’s rusted railings raised and smiled as he remembered the evil demon laying in it, drooling spittle, moaning. His head dipping from side to side as he writhed in agony, his breathing light and shallow, his curved skeletal hands, grossly claw-like, reaching for him.
Swallowing hard, he instinctively backed up as fear gripped his heart, his heartbeat erratic and racing. He hated and treasured the memory at the same time. He swiped at the sweat on his forehead subconsciously rubbing his hand onto his pant leg.
It was the first time he felt his own power, knew he was special. He stood up to the demon, removing the dropper from the medicine vial that sat next to him on the nightstand and squeezed its contents into the old man’s gaping orifice. It dribbled down the side of his lagging mouth.
He pumped it, refilling it several times, over and over, and stood watching, waiting, for the results. This was his brand of mercy and he waited for the confirmation of the light. He was rewarded shortly thereafter with the demon’s weakened spastic convulsing. Flopping like a beaten, dying fish in the confines of his cage, unable to escape, forced to lay witness to his extraordinary power.
Knowing his mother would soon hear the sound of alarms blaring as the machines gave him away, he momentarily cringed, calming only after realizing the demon was doomed nonetheless. The smile crept back onto his stony face.
When she finally arrived it would be too late, the demon would be dead. He saw in his minds eye, the corner of the faded blue room as he stared numbly at the carpet, stained with years of the demon’s urine, feces, vomit and blood.
The corners of his mouth lifted as he felt somewhat overwhelmed by his control and smiled at the fond recollection. He shook off his trip down memory lane regaining his outward appearance of normality and continued to point his phone’s light back onto the floor, as he walked across the last twenty feet to reach…her.
He slowly pushed the door to the side and entered the darkening room. It took a few minutes for his eyes to become accustomed to the dimness. He raised his head, trying to focus his eyes on his beautiful girlfriend. She squinted when he shone the light in her eyes, turning her head. She looked tired, ragged. She needed sleep.
He flicked the switch on the wall and the lone light flipped on, casting its faint yellow glow along the gray cement walls. The shadows of the room elongated and moved in an eerie dance as the light bulb flickered every few seconds. He noticed her moving against her bindings, the silver of the duct tape glimmering with each weakened pull. He closed his phone promptly shutting the light off and dropped it back inside his uniform pocket.
Walking to her side, he lowered his hand and grabbed at her, rubbing her breasts until she winced, loving her response. She arched her back as he squeezed, propping herself up, moving closer to his hand.
“You greedy little whore…” he looked down the length of her, taking note that she lost more weight. “You like when I grab your tits, don’t you?”
Her eyes widened, and she shook her head violently side to side.
“You have to eat, or you won’t be as pretty as she was,” he muttered, his eyes mirroring his desire.
Her eyes widened, and she frantically pulled at her restraints. Big droplets fell from her eyes and slid down her cheeks.
“Don’t talk,” he said leaning in to her face. “You don’t have to say anything, I know you are happy I’m home. It’s hard for me too, you know.”
She smelled different than his first girlfriend. Not like when he had to wash her because she got shit all over herself. This odor was almost intoxicating. He was heady from the smell, and he dipped in closer to her to get another sniff. She recoiled looking very much like she was trying to pull away.
It was almost like the sight of him repelled her, but he knew that couldn’t be right. He must have misread her reaction. Her eyes widened and quickly filled with tears again. He hated when she cried. Then the black smeared all over her cheeks, trailing lines through the pink powder he’d brushed there, making it hard for him to remember how she looked when she was pretty. Now he’d have to wipe her clean with the Windex and rag again and reapply the pretty colors, stupid twat.
“Stop that now,” he said exasperatingly, feeling his anger build.
She stilled and seemed to have stopped fighting, but her eyes continued to follow him glistening in the dim light. He knew she liked him. There were times when she couldn’t take her eyes off of him and that made him happy. Her eyes opened then snapped tightly closed. She was trying to tell him something, she was trying to convey the sadness she felt when he left her. He knew she hated the thought of him not being here with her, almost as much as he missed her when he had to leave for work.
He yanked four gloves out of the box, two for each hand and stretched them deftly over his fingers. Then he walked to the side table and picked up the shears from the dirty bloodstained surface.
“And now for a few flowers my lovely,” he smiled impishly. She rocked her body violently side to side. Her eyes wide, she screamed weakly against her binding.
He reached forward grabbing her hand and placed the old pruning shears directly underneath, squeezing as hard as he could with both hands, ensuring a clean cut. No one liked flowers with ugly ends. It certainly wouldn’t do to fuck it up again, causing himself extra work trimming away the messy, dirty ripped skin and bloodied splintered bone. He wanted a clean cut, just like all the flowers he got from his first girlfriend. Besides, the man would be mad. The man yelled at him all the time telling him ‘he couldn’t follow simple fucking directions’. He hated when the man yelled.
He watched as her eyes rolled back then closed tight and he heard her moan in spite of all the duct tape he’d used. He promptly slammed his free hand over her mouth so that no one could hear her. She closed her eyes and went to sleep. He knew this because he lowered his ear to her chest and heard her breathe. Good, you need to sleep.
Holding up the flower to inspect, he smiled to himself. Now one more, just like this. He took another flower and held it up to the light.
This is a good one too, very pretty.
He wrapped the duct tape around her head two more times, and then wrapped her bloodied hand.
This stuff really does have hundreds of uses.
“Don’t worry…I won’t be gone so long this time. I’ll be back to feed you,” he whispered close to her taped ear. “You have to eat more, or I’ll have to use the tube. You don’t like the tube…remember?”
He knew when she woke up she would be sad he wasn’t there to comfort her and talk to her. He lowered his head and turned the light off on his way out the door.
He had more work to do. First he needed to prepare the flowers for shipping, drop them with the delivery service. But first he had to go upstairs and decode the newest missive in his uniform pocket. It was in the post office box—just like always. It was waiting for him…his new orders. The man was watching him, keeping an eye on him. Making sure he kept in line and carried out his orders.
He idolized the man, even when the man screamed at him, even when the man had hurt him bad that time. He knew the man only wanted him to carry on, take care of his girls, and send them flowers. Then when it was over, after the man killed them, the man would give him his reward.
He climbed the basement stairs, shutting the door quietly behind him. As he passed the doorway to the large filthy room he glanced towards the back wall seeing her there. Her fat lying in folded layers around her rot
und body. Her neck was bent back in sleep and he knew the rolls under her chin were full of food and dirt like they always were. He shuttered; it was fucking cold in here.
He looked down and saw the remnants of food lying scattered on the table and floor, where they fell after falling from her fisted hands. The same hands she beat him with. Brutalized him with. He smiled…now she can’t catch him anymore. Evil Beast.
He walked through the living room silently, so not to wake her, then climbed soundlessly up the worn out carpeted stairs, down the hall to his small room. He stepped inside and flipped the wall switch as he closed the door, locking it. The light on the top of his desk glowed brightly as he pulled the paper out of his pocket and took his codebook out of his secret drawer. It was time to decipher his latest orders.
Chapter 7
It had been over a week since the three of us had our girl’s lunch out and started receiving our ‘packages’ and I realized I hadn’t seen hide or hair of Michelle at all. I thought that was a tiny bit odd. Most days we were practically joined at the hip. I made a mental note to myself to call her and ask what she’s been up to.
Just then I looked up, and all thoughts of Michelle were quickly pushed to the side, as I spotted Cole stepping out of the gleaming black Landaulet that had just pulled to the curb, holding his smartphone to his ear, looking every bit the hot Urbanite he was.
I gawked just like a silly schoolgirl as the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve laid eyes on plenty, walked towards the elegant entry of the restaurant. I often have to pinch myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming, and this seemed to be as good a time as any.
To think that he really chose to be with me, that he was mine, made me weak in the knees. At times it was all too much, what a whirlwind my life has been. I was feeling totally out of control…simply put, I was overwhelmed.
He ended his call and dropped the phone back into his inside jacket pocket.
I watched as he opened the door and entered the vestibule. When his eyes met mine, a slow, lazy, sexy-as-all-hell smile turned the corners of his lips. Butterflies, and then some, exploded in my stomach as he crossed to where I stood. I took notice of the small falter in his step. It was a constant reminder of what Jonathan had done, and I immediately felt guilty. During the struggle with Jonathan, Cole had been cut several times. One particularly deep gash cut deep into his muscle, leaving him with a slight limp.
Each time I saw him walk, my heart swelled with what I can only describe as pain mixed with adoration and total unconditional love. He saved me from certain death and because of me he will carry that reminder with him forever. I still tremble at the memory.
It seems all the people I love the most have been scarred and damaged forever by Jonathan’s malevolence. His plan to kill both my mother and me had left all of us injured and was a painful realization I was forced to live with everyday. The guilt that it all happened because of me was, at best, horrible to bear but I thank whatever powers were ruling the stars that day it had ended the way it did. We were all still alive, and he was put away and locked up for the rest of his life.
When he reached me, he pulled me to him and squeezed me, kissing my neck.
“Hello beautiful.” I heard him inhale deeply. “Mmm, I’ve missed you today.” He pushed me back slightly and looked down into my face. “Waiting long?”
His voice had the power to send shivers up and down my spine; the sound so corporeal my heart fluttered just hearing it.
“No, I just got here,” I said, my voice every bit as shaky as I felt.
He leaned in and placed a searing kiss on my lips and immediately my nether region began throbbing as heat rushed to my sex.
“Your killing me Ace.” I nuzzled into his neck immediately feeling a hunger, a definite craving for his body, his kiss leaving me with a ravenous appetite. “Umm, I’m starving.” I kissed him just beneath his exquisitely sculpted chin, “For more than just food. So let’s sit down before I do something that would get us both hot and bothered.”
I suggestively lifted my brows.
“You won’t get any complaints from me,” he said, playfully laughing at my corny facial expression, than smiled that killer smile that nearly caused me to melt into a puddle at his feet. He was so hot, so sexy, so damned fuckable – damn, I was amazed that even after all these weeks, after the hundreds of times we had earthshattering sex, each and every time he smiled the butterflies fluttered deep inside my belly, causing me to lose my breath.
I grinned wickedly as I ran my hands from his biceps to his hands, admiring his perfect, muscular frame adorned in a beautiful gray flannel suit, fitted blue and white striped dress shirt topped off with a blue and green tie. The green stripes, a perfect match to his stunningly gorgeous eyes.
He squeezed my hands gently then lowered both of his hands to the small of my back. I instantly felt the current of electricity flow from the tips of his fingers through my entire body. My sex pulsated in tempo with my raging heartbeat and I was instantly wet.
“Looking at you, looking that edible, is making me very horny right now,” I purred as I bit his chin. I shuddered when I heard his sharp intake of air. “Not to mention you smell…mmm…soooo….delicious.” I ran my tongue along the edge of his chin.
“Grace,” his tone warned.
Then he looked over my shoulder. “Is there something I could help you with?” He barked, the harshness in his voice sharp.
I turned my head to see who he was talking to and saw a man, tall, about forty, dressed in a business suit, holding a smartphone in his hand, looking rather sheepish. He blushed and quickly turned away from us to walk towards the window where he stopped, presumably to look outside. I could feel the tension vibrating in Cole’s body as he continued glowering at the back of the man in the suit.
“Ace?” I was confused as to what just transpired between the two, but I knew that Cole rarely, if ever, wasted words. When he had something to say he said it, and when he didn’t, well, he just didn’t.
Trying not to let a little testosterone ruin the passion and mood we had going on minutes ago, I ran my hands down his sides and wrapped my arms around his midsection. When I looked up into Cole’s face our eyes met and I saw a softening in his gaze. He seemingly shook off whatever transpired almost as fast as it came and I could feel the tension in his body ease.
“Hey, are you okay?” I asked him. “What was that about?”
He glanced in the direction the man had gone and shook his head as to say ‘not worth it’ then looked down and smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. I spontaneously ran my lips along his chiseled jaw, once again reveling in the smell of him.
“What was it that you were saying?” He asked nuzzling his nose to my neck.
“You mean how I think you smell de-li-cious?” I whispered staccato against his ear, my breath fanning his cheek. I couldn’t help my silly grin.
He lifted my chin up with his long fingers and held me in place as his eyes fixed on mine. The heat from the tips of his fingers warmed my blood. “If you keep talking like that, I will take you into the back right now and fuck you till we both can’t stand up.” The fire that burned behind those eyes told me he wasn’t kidding. His voice was low, raspy…dripping sex.
He had a seductively low voice to begin with, but combine that with his more than healthy hormone level and you have a recipe sure to start the motor of any woman with a pulse…I was not immune.
“Ace, do not even start me if you are not able to finish me,” I whispered playfully, while inside my whole body was heating up sending sparks shooting outward to my extremities. I could feel myself beginning to pant.
I heard, as well as felt, a rumbling sound deep in his chest.
“I’ve been thinking about you all day…” I nibbled at his chin again, pushing it, testing his limits. “I want you so bad right now, I hope I can make it through dinner,” I looked at him through my lashes, my voice soft and husky.
Reaching down betw
een us, he adjusted himself, and lifting both eyebrows, glared at me, his eyes smoldering, his jaw set. There wasn’t a doubt as to what was going on inside that gorgeous head.
He placed his hand at the small of my back drawing me closer to him, pushing his pelvis into me and I instantly felt his erection against my lower belly. The gentle pressure of his splayed hand coupled with its warmth sent tingles of anticipation coursing through me. I raised my head and searched his face, noticing the slight curve playing on his lips; proof he knew exactly what his touch did to me.
“You’re purposefully getting me started, aren’t you?”
“You made the first move.”
“What move?” I questioned my eyes imploring, “Are you playing games with me?” I asked looking up through my lashes.
“I don’t play games,” he parried, his voice rough. He locked eyes with mine momentarily and heat surged through my veins again.
“You are. You’re trying to get a rise out of me,” I said answering my own question.
“Right now, I’m thinking of how to get a rise into you.” He pulled me against his groin again, emphasizing his point.
“Oooh...You’re exasperating!” I exclaimed, flustered.
“You’re beautiful.”
“You’re forgiven.” I leaned in and raised myself onto my toes planting a light kiss on his full lips.
“Good evening Mr. Grayson, Miss Preston, your table is ready, if you would follow me please.”
I jumped and turned abruptly, so focused on the sexual tension and our sidestepping tête-à-tête, I didn’t see Hillary, the hostess at Jean-Georges, standing there, wine list and menus in hand.
“Hillary,” I said, a tad loud. “Sorry…” I hoped my face wasn’t as flushed as it felt.
She smiled knowingly and turned to guide us to our table.
Cole steered me in front of him, and we followed Hillary to the table. Had she approached us a few seconds later, we would most definitely not be following in her wake now. I was just about to make him an offer he simply would not have been able to refuse. I mentally pushed my shameless thoughts aside, saving my voracious appetite for later.
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