Crazy Love

by Rachael Tamayo

  “Officer…”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “If I fuck you, will you let me go?”

  He grins at me. I arch, brought off the bed by a sudden thrust of his fingers. In a flash, he mounts me. Suddenly, he’s inside me and I’m dying to touch him. I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper. “Isaiah…” I gasp.

  He finally kisses me, deep and soft. It’s a slow, sexy kiss that pushes me to the brink of climax. I groan into his mouth. He has one hand cupping my ass and the other holds him up.

  “Don’t stop.” Whimper.

  “I couldn’t if a train hit me… shit….” He buries his face in my shoulder.

  I explode around him, biting his shoulder to keep from screaming. I white knuckle the bed rails, careful not to strain against the cuffs. He just keeps going, stroking me, and loving me. He lifts his head to look down at me with tenderness that steals my breath.

  “God, I love you so damn much.” He groans, thrusting his hips in rhythm.

  His eyes overflow with emotion. They roll back with the pleasure I give him, rocking with him. Then he jerks, stifling a shout and bursts into me. I hold him tightly with my thighs, loving the way it feels when he comes on top of me.

  He looks down into my face with a smile. “I guess I have to unlock you now.”

  “I love you, Isaiah. Seriously, a lot. And that was fun.”

  He laughs, rolling off of me. He retrieves the key, and release me. Immediately I reach out and touch him, dying to feel his skin under my hands.

  “That was amazing. I know I’ve had a lot to drink, but I… when I’m with you, I feel like I’m whole. I feel like I found the woman that I’ve always been searching for in you. I’m home when I’m with you. I fell for you the first night. You bewitched me. You’re just amazing. I can’t get enough of you. Beautiful and strong and… you’re everything. I can’t imagine my life without you now. I can’t figure out how to say the things that you make me feel. Like I just want to be around you all the time. I love the way you smell and the way you look when you sleep. I close my eyes and you find me in my dreams. Then I wake up and you are asleep in my bed, my house, my life. I would do anything for you. I’d move, I’d sell everything, quit my job. I’d die to protect you. I just….” His voice fades out as he falls back on the pillow.

  “I love you, Emily.”

  No one has ever articulated anything like this to me before. My heart has burst into a million tiny pieces, and then come back together with his name on it. “Isaiah, that… you… I….”

  He wipes tears off my cheeks, then smiles at me. “Don’t cry.”

  “I can’t help it. What you just said… it was beautiful. I love you too. I feel the same way about you.”

  Popping up, he kisses me swiftly. I get up and turn off the light and we are bathed in darkness. He curls up behind me, kissing my shoulders gently as he pulls my body tightly to his.

  “Happy birthday,” I whisper.

  “Thanks. Best birthday ever.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Noah

  The sound of the shower running in my private bathroom is loud to my ears. I never let anyone use my bathroom. Now I’ll have to get my maid to sanitize the damn thing.

  Julie looked at me and asked me nicely if she could take a shower, so I let her. I walk naked into the bathroom, the steam from the shower sticks to my skin as I enter the room.

  She’s humming a tune that I don’t know. The second thing I notice is the steam. My oversized bathroom is full of humid air and the steam rises in the open stall of the huge stone shower. Julie has her back to me, enjoying the spray of four carefully placed showerheads. I was going to wait, but the more I think about it, the more I realize that the running shower will be helpful to me.

  I flex my hands. The latex gloves cling to my skin, dampened by my own sweat in this spa like environment. My grip flexes around the knife handle. My eyes on her, watching for her to turn.

  Deep breath now. This is for Emily. It’s the only way. Julie still hasn’t talked to Caroline, claiming that she’s been overwhelmed and unable to get back to it. I don’t believe her. She’s stalling for some reason.

  It doesn’t matter any longer. I’m done waiting. I step into the shower. The hot water hits my front. I wrap one of my hands around her middle, the other has the blade. She giggles, leaning into me, until she realizes that I’m wearing gloves.

  “Noah, what are you-”

  Silenced by the knife pushed through the flesh of her throat. A gurgle, a gasp. Clutching at her throat as blood sprays the inside of my shower. The mess mingles with the running water, rinsing the gore down the drain as she turns, falling against the wall with wide terrified eyes.

  She can’t ask me why. I crouch down and touch her face. I brush the hair from her eyes as she pales, struggling to breathe.

  “It’s going to be okay.” I lean in and kiss her lips as she tries to suck air into her lungs. “There is your kiss, sweetheart.”

  I watch the light fade from her eyes as the shower continues to wash her life off of my body, out of my shower.

  I’ve never killed anyone before. Then again, I’ve never had the trouble getting to someone I love like I have with Emily. I won’t be separated from her any longer. My patience for this situation is gone.

  ***

  Isaiah

  I knew that I would regret letting Patterson talk me into swapping our On-Call duty this week. It’s three a.m. on Tuesday morning when my cell phone wakes me up.

  As I grab for it, I hear Emily mutter something I can’t understand.

  “Sorry, it’s work calling,” I tell her as I answer the phone.

  “This is Penrose,” I say, struggling to sound alert.

  “Detective, I’m sorry to wake you. There’s been a death.” The normally happy voice of the dispatcher in my ear is struggling to remain composed, alerting me to something bad.

  “It’s fine. What do you have?”

  She rattles off an address, then says, “Um, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but it’s Sergeant Barton. She’s been found dead. The FBI has been called, but the Lieutenant on duty wants someone here to go hold the scene until they can get here to take over.”

  My head spins. Julie? Dead? “What? Are they sure? How-” Emily rolls over to face me.

  “Yes, we are sure. I’m sorry to have to tell you this way.”

  I shake my head, as if to clear the fog that’s rolling through my brain. How can she be dead? I saw her yesterday. “Shit. Yeah, ok. I’ll be en-route soon.”

  We hang up and I sit, numb. I feel Emily’s hand move up and down my arm. “What is it?”

  I turn to her, turning on the lamp. “I have to go to work. They found Sargent Barton dead.”

  Her eyes widen. “What? That lady that I talked to?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I can’t believe this. I just saw her yesterday.”

  “I’m so sorry, wow.” She pulls me into her arms before I can move to get up. I curl my arms under her back and let myself enjoy the feeling of her body against mine before I have to go face this awful thing.

  “I’ll be gone for a while. I might not be back when you wake up. Since it’s already three in the morning. By the time I get done it will be time to go to work.”

  She smooths my hair, running her fingers through it. “Okay. Be careful.”

  “I wish the damn alarm company hadn’t pushed back our install. I don’t like leaving you here.” I mumble against her throat.

  “Your gun is here. I’ll be all right. I’ll call you when I wake up.”

  I sit up and press my lips to hers. “Okay.”

  It’s going to be a long day.

  ***

  Noah

  I slink down in my seat as I watch Isaiah exit the apartment and climb into his car. The bedroom light goes off just as he pulls out of the parking lot. I crack my knuckles. Now I just need to give her time to get back to sleep.

  The dog barks once when I walk in
. I stop short of kicking her, until she realizes it’s me. Then she dances around me. I ignore her, shutting the front door silently. I have to tell myself to still my breathing, it’s coming faster now that I’m inside. My blood is running through my body like a freight train.

  Creeping, I move into the bedroom. She’s asleep on her back. Wearing what looks like one of his T-shirts. Her red hair is fanned out, her lips parted in a deep breath. My heart beat picks up. I haven’t seen her in what feels like forever. How can it be possible that she is more beautiful?

  On silent feet, I move to the side of the bed, pulling a capped syringe out of the front pocket on my sweatshirt. Her arm hangs off the side of the bed, as if she’s waiting for me. Inviting me to take her.

  When I uncap it, flicking and careful to push the air out, I hold my breath. I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long.

  I push the needle into her arm. She moves. Her eyes fly open and a scream escapes her lips as she look up into my face.

  “No---”

  I push the liquid into her arm and she starts to cry, but not for long. Her eyes roll back, she goes limp. Unconscious.

  I recap the needle and put it back into my pocket. Then I heave her up, over my shoulder, grabbing her phone from the night table.

  No one sees me when I carry her to my car. I lay her gently into the back seat, covering her with the blanket that I brought with me. I don’t want her to get chilly. It’s cold outside tonight. Leaning, I touch my lips to hers for the first time.

  She taste as sweet as I imagined she would. Tears blur my eyes as I linger, savoring the feeling.

  “My angel, finally you are coming home.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Emily

  I wake up with a start. The room is bright. Sunlight floods the room through huge windows. I scramble up, checking myself. I’m naked. Not injured, nothing hurts. I’m in a huge, soft bed. It almost feels like I’m lying on feathers. Covered by a thick comforter, bright white. Looking around, everything in here is white. The furniture, the walls, the carpet.

  Where am I?

  Panic rolls into my body like a tidal wave as the brief memory flashes before my eyes. Noah was in my bedroom. I glance at my arm, there is a tiny bruise where he injected me with God knows what. I look around, I don’t see him. On the table beside the bed is a cravat full of orange juice, and a glass. There is a towel folded neatly on the dresser, I assume for me. I don’t see anything else.

  Am I locked in here? I get up. The carpet is soft and fluffy. I grab the towel for something to cover up with, it’s oversized and wraps easily around my body.

  Tears fill my eyes. Is he going to kill me? Rape me? Oh my God, Isaiah. I try the door, it opens to a big bathroom.

  I try another door, it opens to a closet full of clothes.

  The third door opens. It’s not locked. It leads out into a hallway. What do I do? Surely he’s here somewhere. What if he’s waiting for me to come out so he can...?

  I stifle a sob. Closing the door I decide to search for my phone. As I’m opening drawer after drawer and finding nothing but clothes, I cry harder. I toss the items out of my way.

  “Emily, you woke up.” I hear my name and spin.

  Noah stands in the doorway. He sees the mess and frowns, his brow wrinkles.

  “Angel, what are you doing? You can’t make messes like this, I won’t tolerate it.”

  I back up into a corner, sobbing and clutching the towel around my body. “What are you doing? Why am I here...” I hiccup.

  He moves towards me, cornering me. He touches my cheek with gentle fingers.

  “You are home, of course. Don’t be afraid. I love you. This is all for you.”

  He looks down into my face with tender black eyes, and I can’t breathe. I tremble, sickened by his fingers stroking my cheek. Home?

  I push away from him. “This isn’t my home. I don’t even know where I am. What the fuck are you doing?” I shout at him.

  His wrinkles deepen on his forehead.

  “I know you are confused. It’s all right. I’ll get you cleaned up and show you around. All these clothes are yours. I’m going to give you the world, Angel. I’m so happy that you are here. I’ve waited for so long for you.”

  “Get away from me. You’re crazy!” I duck away from him, scooting to the other side of the room where he left the door open.

  I run out into a hallway, the floor changes from soft carpet to bright wood. I feel a hand snatch me by the hair. I’m jerked back, pain shoots through my scalp. I yelp, trying to turn and slap at him but he’s too strong.

  An arm goes around my waist, a hand covers my mouth. Tears run down my face over his fingers.

  “Don’t run from me. I don’t want to have to hurt you, Emily. You must learn the rules and be a good girl.” His hand tightens over my mouth. “Nod if you understand.”

  I nod, sobbing.

  “You pick up all these clothes. Do you understand me?”

  He pulls me back into the bedroom, shutting the door. I nod again. He lets me go and I slink away from him, clutching the towel with one hand.

  “I don’t want to punish you, but I will if I must. I’ll be watching you, Emily, while I get your bath ready.”

  I don’t answer him. I stand, trying to memorize his face, my surroundings.

  “Say yes sir to me. You hear me?” His eyes narrow.

  I swallow. “Yes Sir.”

  His face relaxes, then to my horror he pulls me against his body. “Thank you.”

  I burst into fresh tears. Oh God, what am I in the middle of? He leans in close, and for a horrible moment I think he’s going to kiss me. Instead, he sniffs me. Lowers his head to my hair, my neck and smells me.

  “I love your scent.”

  I bite down a scream. How does he know how I smell? Of course he does, he’s been in and out of my house for God knows how long.

  “Now, do as I said and then meet me in the bath.”

  In the interest of saving my hide, possibly my life, I pick up the clothes and stuff them randomly back into the drawers.

  The bathroom door looms before me. He leaves it wide, sitting on the edge of the bathtub pouring in something that is making bubbles as the water fills. I stand trembling, and I can’t make myself move to the door. Maybe this is my chance. Can I just run out? How far would I get?

  I look outside, I see woods. A lake, no sign of the city. I can’t survive out there like this. With no idea of how far to run, or which direction, I’m stuck until I’m better prepared.

  I imagine Isaiah, what he might say. I can hear his voice. Fight, survive. Do what you have to in order to make it home. Be smart.

  I’ll find you.

  I draw in a shaking breath. He has to find me.

  “Emily, are you done?”

  The overpowering scent of tea tree fills my nose. Turning, I see him standing with a towel draped over his arm. His bronze skin in high contrast to the crisp white towel. I don’t answer. I shuffle my feet and say a silent prayer to a God I haven’t talked to in a long, long time.

  The first thing I see is the tub. It’s oversized and full of water so hot that steam is coming off it. It’s got bubbles, and stinks of too much tea tree. There are soaps and shampoos and things on a shelf beside the tub. Noah smiles as if he’s proud of himself.

  The floor is strangely warm under my feet. Of course, this floor must be heated. I look down at a floor so black and shiny it’s almost reflective. I glance around, but all I seem to be able to see is this tub. He wants me to get into it with him standing here I assume. Nausea rolls in my gut. I clench the towel tighter.

  “Can you excuse me so I can bathe?” I ask softly, staring into the bubbles.

  “Not this time. I have to make sure you’re clean. You’ve been contaminated by that… man.”

  My Isaiah. I wonder if he knows I’m missing yet. I don’t even know what time it is. Noah reaches out and pulls the towel off me. I keep my back to him. I can feel his eyes
on me as tears spill from mine, struggling to cover my nudity. I hear his breathing in the too quiet room.

  “Get into the tub.”

  When I stick a toe into the water, I jerk it back. “It’s too hot.”

  “It has to be to clean you properly. The tea tree will sanitize your skin. Get in.”

  He must not know how crazy he sounds. “Please, it will burn me. I’m afraid.” I let my voice quiver, looking over my shoulder at him.

  He moves behind me, hands on my bare shoulders. “It won’t burn, angel. Get in.”

  I stick a foot in. It’s so hot. Forcing both feet in, I’m crying but unable to sit down. My feet are burning, my ankles and calves. My back still to him.

  “Please. It’s too hot.”

  “Emily, you were bad. You let him touch you. You’re dirty. I can’t have you contaminate our home. Or me. Sit down. Now.” There is a shard of anger in his tone.

  So I sit, slowly. Lowering my body into damn near scalding water. I’m forced to turn, to fit into the tub. I lean back, but the bubbles don’t cover my breasts. Noah gets down on his knees, I cry silently. Nausea rolls again as I watch him pick up a bottle with French words on it. Panic as he fills his hand with white, creamy liquid and moves to touch me.

  Oh God, he’s going to wash me.

  When I jerk back, he scolds me with one look from his frightening eyes. I stop. He touches my left arm first. Lathering with purposeful yet slow touch, as if savoring it. One arm at a time, my neck and shoulders. I blink away tears when his eyes move to my breasts. His hands are too soft for a man’s. He rubs both breasts at the same time, slowly. His lips part, his eyes glaze. He drags his thumb over my nipples. He moves between my legs. I snap my thighs together and curl up.

  “No, don’t.”

  His eyes grow angry, his brow wrinkles. “What do you mean no?”

  I scramble for an excuse. He thinks we are in love that much is clear. What can I tell him to keep him off of me? Something that will fit into his twisted mind?