Brutal: A Driven World Novel (The Driven World)

by S. Valentine

  He secures his hold on my wrists ensuring I can’t break free. With his other hand he gropes my breast for a second, squeezing it, his thumb circling my nipple, making it stand to attention, then doing the same to the other. I moan softly, tilting my head back, the water raining down on me.

  His fingers are between my legs now, stroking me, playing with my clit. Again, how I denied myself this pleasure for so long, I don’t know. If only I could have met Elias years ago, had plenty more of this, of him, his company, everything. I press my lips together to hold in my moans when he inserts his finger, plunging in and out, getting me ready. His movements become faster, and his lips suck at my neck, his teeth biting into my skin. He’s being a little rough with me now, unlike before. He must feel comfortable with me.

  “What did you tell me in the car?” he says in my ear, before nipping it.

  I whimper again, as he pushes deeper into me, almost sending me over the edge. My body is trembling, shards of pleasure overtaking me. “What?”

  “What did you say to me in the car?”

  “I...” I tilt my head back and kiss him over and over, wrestling with his tongue, wanting it everywhere. Naughty thoughts consume me and it’s like I’m a different person. A mature woman who knows what she wants. A woman who is in love and would marry this man tomorrow. Have kids with him, the whole works. What we have, it has to be a forever thing. If it’s not I won’t get over it. I’ll hate myself even more.

  “Amara,” he demands an answer.

  It takes me a second to gather my thoughts I’m that lost in pleasure. “I told you...” I pant heavily. “I told you I loved you.”

  This sparks a reaction in him and he removes his hand, and enters me, pressing me further into the wall. He hammers into me, sliding in and out, as if my words pleased him, unable to get enough. He’s grunting in my ear, filling me, sending me closer and closer to the edge, to losing control.

  “Elias,” I cry out when he’s relentless, the tingling in me overwhelming. My stomach tightens, my lower muscles clenching. I’m going to come soon, powerless to stop it.

  “I love you, too.”

  His words are like music to my ears. They send me over the edge. He drives in and out several more times, fast and hard, giving me everything he has. One final plunge and we both still, allowing the fierce sensations to take over us. Our bodies tremble together, our moans and groans mingling. Elias clings onto me tightly, his breathing heavy. We stay connected in silence for a short while. Then he releases me and turns me around to face him. The passion in his eyes is replaced by a soft tenderness. He strokes my wet hair from my forehead and kisses me gently on the mouth. The admiration and love he has for me is clear as day. That knowing twinkle in his pupils. He doesn’t need to repeat the words. This is the best day of my life. I decide there and then that I will reveal everything about me and my past. But first I want to cherish this moment, this night, just as it is, and how we are. Perfect.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  ELIAS

  The gym has been absolute torture today. I think it’s mainly due to my lack of energy. The last few nights I haven’t been able to keep my hands off Amara. With everything out in the open it feels like a real relationship. This has been a massive step for me. DeShawn has noticed my lighter mood, but I haven’t discussed Amara. I won’t do anything to risk everything I now have, a life I never knew I wanted and avoided.

  In my apartment an hour later I’m in my bedroom watching TV before work tonight. Amara texts me to say she’s thinking about me. I respond with a heart emoji and catch my pathetic, smitten face in the TV screen which is displaying Queen Of The South. I lie there, relaxed and content, until I remember Kaley. Guilt is weighing me down like a heavy anchor. I’m rummaging under the bed before I can stop myself. I rifle through her belongings, focusing intensely on the photographs. She and Amara are so different appearance wise. In personality they share the same feistiness and kindness. I stroke my fingers over her face and the image of her lying sprawled out on the floor, limbs bent in awkward ways, makes me release a heart wrenching sob.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, before throwing the contents to the floor in a fit of rage. I should have killed them! Prison is too easy.

  My mom’s advice comes back to me, how I should see a therapist. In all fairness she could be right. Talking about my past will hurt, but I need to face it head on. I tap a text message to her asking for it to be arranged. She’ll take care of everything.

  Not able to concentrate on the TV now, I call Amara to see if she fancies going for food. I’ve still got a few hours to kill. She agrees immediately. By the time I’ve driven to Lori’s place, my mobile pings with several messages. I check the screen to find it’s Lara begging to meet, how she misses my company. Deciding it’s not fair on Amara I tell her I’m with someone now, and wish her all the best. It’s strange to think I’m now a committed man, off the market.

  “Hi,” Amara says chirpily once she’s in my car. I don’t lean over and kiss her, fearful of who could be watching. We’re still keeping it a secret from Thomas.

  I drive us to Oxford Street, find parking, and lead us to a restaurant. A place Thomas, Maverick, or their cronies are unlikely to visit. Once inside and seated we order food and drinks, and enjoy our quality time together. When Amara isn’t looking, I take in her stunning features. I won’t let anyone hurt her. Ever. Speaking of which, now I think about it, I don’t know much about her still, or her past.

  I ask her where she’s originally from, what made her move to London, and how she met Thomas. She doesn’t seem secretive, or guarded, and is happy to provide answers.

  “I met Thomas after a month of being London. In a coffee shop.”

  I glance up at the waitress when she sets our drinks down. Then I gesture for Amara to continue.

  “He seemed like a nice person. I was looking for a room to rent, and he said I was welcome to stay with him until I got back on my feet. And then...things progressed.”

  I change the subject quickly in case she goes into detail. Knowing about anything sweet he did for her, or about her old feelings for him may spark jealousy in me. I ask about her family and she tells me both her parents are alive and she has one sister, but hasn’t spoken to them for a while.

  When our food comes looking and smelling delicious, I snap a photo of it and upload it to my social media profile.

  “Are you on social media?”

  She shakes her head. “I’m not into that sort of stuff.”

  For the next hour we eat and talk nonstop about nothing important. Amara keeps on grabbing my hand and staring at me with twinkly, happy eyes. She’s so affectionate, it makes me feel like a King. Scanning the restaurant warily, certain we have privacy she presses her mouth to mine. I prolong the kiss, sliding my fingers through her hair and bringing her face closer.

  “So, where do you see yourself in five years?” she asks with a smile.

  I push my plate aside and sit back in my seat. “Is this a job interview?”

  “I’m curious.” She prods me in the chest playfully.

  I rub at my stubble and think long and hard about her question. “I’d like to get a mortgage on a property on the outskirts of London, secure more clients and...” I shrug. “Whatever else is a bonus.”

  Her shoulders sag as if she’s disappointed. “Do you want marriage one day? A family?”

  “Is that what you want?”

  She nods without a moments hesitation.

  “Maybe one day you’ll have it,” I respond, positive for our future and being open to these things. My answer no longer shocks me. I’m not fully cured of my guilt and heartache, but I’m willing to have hope that my future consists of happiness.

  Out in the street I see a flower stall and only when I’ve purchased red roses for Amara, and taken in her grateful reaction do I remember how fulfilling it feels to be romantic again. Kaley used to adore how considerate I was. If she was down I’d surprise her with a comedy film
and snacks. If she was angry I’d run her a hot bubble bath with candles. If she was stressed and needed fun I’d invite her girlfriends around and order food for them and make myself scarse. Having been single for a long time, caring for someone now is a bit unfamiliar to me. The old Elias is returning and I pray he stays. I can’t go through that depressive period again. Amara is slowly making me a better man.

  “You spoil me.” She beams, smelling the roses for the hundredth time. Anyone would think I’d bought her a Lamborghini. The fact she appreciates the small things fills me with joy.

  “I don’t do anything out of the ordinary.”

  Her smile fades and she frowns as if remembering something bad. Is she not usually treated like this? Shit. I remember her abusive ex-boyfriend. Not wanting to ruin the moment I suggest we go and play crazy golf. I’m even surprising myself being this upbeat and fun.

  “I’ve never played golf before.”

  I stare at her. “You’ve never played golf?”

  “No. So I’ll probably be bad at it.”

  “A lot of people are bad. It’s half of the fun.”

  We spend a couple of hours playing crazy golf. Amara is shockingly bad, struggling to hold the club. We’re in hysterics most of the time. Afterwards we hit a bar. I don’t drink alcohol having made a promise to myself long ago to never lose control. Tonight seems different for some reason and I want it to be special. I order a bottle of champagne to celebrate meeting Amara and to new beginnings.

  “Cheers.” I pass her a flute.

  She fidgets in her seat. “I don’t drink.”

  “Come on. Just this once.” I squeeze her arm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  She stares at the flute as if it’s a demon. “I’m not supposed to drink. And I’ve already committed many sins. One being you.”

  “Me?” She mentioned earlier she’s religious, but surely I, alone, am not responsible for her committing sins. Am I? “Amara.” I lean in close to not be overheard. “What are you talking about?” Tell me she wasn’t a virgin, I mentally plead. Although I’m mostly gentle with her I have been rough at times too. I don’t want to be the man who took her innocence.

  “You’re the first man I’ve ever slept with. I wanted to wait for marriage, but life...it doesn’t alway go as planned.”

  I’m stunned. I rub my forehead. “I asked you if you were a virgin.” Now I remember her mumbled, barely audible answer at the time. She didn’t give me a yes or a no.

  “Do you regret sleeping with me?” she asks.

  “Never,” the words fly from my mouth. “Do you?”

  “No. Not if this lasts between us. I don’t want you to feel pressured though.”

  “You never slept with Mr. Dawson, in all that time?”

  “He had no choice, but to respect my religion.”

  “Why did you sleep with me?”

  Her features soften and her eyes glisten. “I love you. I couldn’t help it.”

  I pull her into me and kiss her head. “I love you, too.” I hold her tightly, focusing on people passing by from the window. I’m one lucky son of a bitch. What did I do to deserve this angel? She’s perfection.

  “Maybe one day I can make an honest man out of you.” She laughs, but I’m sure she’s being serious. “To new beginnings.” She holds the flute in the air.

  “Perhaps you’ve committed enough sins for now,” I remind her.

  “If only you knew,” she mumbles. “Besides, what’s one more?”

  Wanting her to respect her beliefs I take the flute from her. I finish it in one go before she can protest. A waiter breezes past and I order a none alcoholic cocktail.

  “As much as I’d like to be a bad influence on you, I quite like a good girl.”

  She smiles but doesn’t say anything.

  It’s around 9 P.M when we’re in the street trying to hail a cab. The sky is starting to darken, the streets getting busier with women glammed up and men dressed down to enjoy the evening. The bars are becoming busier. It’s lively and noisy and a part of me wants to stay out longer. I want Amara now, and not in a sexual way either. I want to lie with her and hold her and ensure she knows how important she is to me. I took her virginity. She gained my trust, my heart, my everything. Nothing better take this away from me.

  We stroll further down the street and I completely forget our surroundings. I’m careless and I hold Amara’s hand. It seems she’s forgotten our relationship is forbidden too, that we’re meant to be keeping it a secret. Just when I thought things were looking up, and my life is on the mend, like a rug being yanked from under my feet I fall hard and painfully. The words that next hit my ears kill me. I’ve been deceived and it seems I don’t know this woman at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  AMARA

  I knew this thing with Elias was too good to be true, that it couldn’t last. You can only hide for so long. The words pouring from Thomas’s mouth are like little bombs detonating, destroying me in seconds. I take in his evil face, which was shocked only a second earlier, having witnessed me and Elias holding hands.

  “Looking cosy with Elias. Does he know everything about you, Aisha Hamed?” His first words spooked Elias who’d released my hand as if I’d burnt him.

  “I had a gut feeling something was going on here.” Thomas shakes his head in disgust. “So I followed you, and it turns out I was right.” He’s livid, a vein throbbing at his temple. “You’re going to regret this.” He points a finger in my face.

  My stomach drops. That threat again. I clamp my hand over my mouth to hold in the sobs. My life is over.

  “As for you, Elias, you’re sacked! And I thought you were fucking loyal!”

  “Mr. Dawson,” Elias begins. “It wasn’t planned.”

  “Good luck protecting her,” he sneers. “From all of her secrets, lies, and crimes!”

  Elias looks at me, puzzled, like he doesn’t know me at all. That loving expression hardens and he clenches his fist as if angry he’s been stupid for caring about me, trusting me, and giving me a chance. I’ve lost him, I’m sure of it. The first man I got intimate with, the person I was hoping to be with forever...he hates me.

  After yelling a few more obscenities Thomas gets in his car, being driven by another of his bodyguards. Now it’s just me and Elias standing there, at a loss at what to say. It really is like we’re strangers rather than two in love people who were a moment ago celebrating new beginnings.

  Eventually he turns to me and coughs to clear his throat. “Aisha Hamed. Is that your real name?” His voice is shaky, and there’s desperation in his eyes, as if he’s praying it not to be true.

  I can’t lie any more. I’m sick of holding it in. Glancing at the floor, I nod slowly, my heart breaking. When I bring my stare to meet Elias’s I regret doing so instantly. He’s wounded like I’ve literally stabbed him in the back. After everything he told me about his past, his painful emotions, I still continued to lie to him, about my name, who I am, what I did, and what I’m running from.

  Taking a deep breath, he brushes his hair back and straightens his posture, his shoulders back, confident, holding in any distress. “Take care, Aisha.”

  When he’s out of my line of vision I burst into tears. I should be afraid being in the street alone. I should be on my guard, checking my surroundings. I should care about the Police siren sounding in the background. But nothing matters anymore. I already know this is the end for me. Thomas will make true to his threat. I can either surrender, or keep on running. Or there’s one more option.

  I veer closer to the road and take in the fast passing cars, the headlights almost blinding me. It will only take a second to end it all. One step. One last step.

  ***

  I couldn’t do it. Last night I couldn’t step into the road. I need to accept my fate when the time comes and not meddle with it. Pushing the negative thoughts from my mind, I mix the flour, eggs and butter hastily. Lori is harping on about Kyle, but I can’t seem to process
anything she’s saying. It’s like my life is on a timer right now, and Thomas is in control of every passing second. I’m jumpy, worried every time a knock comes at the door, or the telephone rings.

  This morning in the shower I’d realised I’m out of razors. I’m disappointed I’m back to being a frightened little sheep again, afraid to go to the shop alone. Just when I was getting some independence and confidence, and able to do things without Thomas or Elias, everything gets ruined.

  “Are you okay? You seem quiet today,” Lori asks, then continues to add icing on a cake.

  “I’m fine. Just tired.”

  “You do know you can talk to me about anything?”

  “I know.” I nod. One day I will confide in Lori. She’s been so good to me.

  The rest of the day goes painfully slow. I keep checking my mobile, hoping Elias will contact me. Will he even give me the chance to explain everything? I’m vulnerable right now, desperate to text him, but what needs explaining cannot be done over the telephone. I’ll break down. I’ll need comforting. I’m disappointed he hasn’t been more understanding. I lied to him though so I’ve lost all his respect.

  Trudging back downstairs I ask Lori if I can borrow her laptop. She tells me where it is and I settle in the living room. I type my real name in Google and nothing comes up. It will though. I’m certain of it.

  “I might go up north for a bit,” I tell Lori, back in the kitchen.

  “What? Why?”

  I prop myself up on a stool and help myself to chocolates Lori has left out. “I’ve had a fight with Elias and I need a break for a bit.”

  She sighs heavily. “But how long for? I’ll miss you.”

  “I’m not sure yet.” I take another chocolate.

  “I don’t like the idea of you going alone.”

  “I’ll be fine.”

  Satisfied with her newly decorated cake she places it carefully into a cardboard box. “What are you and Elias fighting about?”