Revenge

by E M Courier

  Scarlett wraps her arms around his neck letting out a body wrecking sob. “I don’t understand.”

  Alexander brushes her hair with his hand. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  It feels good to be in his arms, comforted by him. When she catches her breath she pulls back to look at Alexander, tears falling down her face one by one. He wipes them away with the pad of her thumb. Scarlett’s heart jolts from his kindness, she leans in close and presses her lips against his.

  Their hunger is insatiable as their kiss gets harder and his tongue fights for dominance. She is completely consumed by him as he takes over her body. He lies her down on the couch and hovers over her. He grabs her wrists putting them over her head and locking her in place. Holding them there with one hand, his other hand roams to the tied knot at her waist. He undoes it and opens her robe. The cool air hardens her nipples and gives her goosebumps. His lips latch onto her breast, his tongue swirling on the sensitive nub. Grazing his teeth over them she arched into him wanting more. His hand moves lower cupping her sex, he growls in approval at the wetness he finds there.

  She moans as his fingers work her slit, his index finger running back and forth. Shivering with pleasure she opens her legs wider inviting him to touch her. More. More. Alexander presses down on the bundle of nerves that sends her crying to ecstasy. Her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head and his finger rub in a circular motion at an excruciating pace. More. It feels all too good. She is desperate for release. Desperate to let herself go and fall into oblivion.

  He sucks on her nipple as his fingers work magic bringing her higher and higher and higher until she crashes. She withers in delight, her body convulsing with the pulsating wave of pleasure Alexander granted her. Her eyes screw shut as she gives into fulfillment her orgasm brings. She can’t stop moaning. Never has she ever felt so good. Never had she ever wanted more.

  When she comes down from her orgasm Alexander is still straddling her hips, heaving himself. She watches as his chest rises and falls, her finger itching to undo the buttons of his shirt and run her hands along the hard muscles of his abdomen.

  Alexander stands holding extending his hand for her to grab. She willingly takes it as he helps her off the couch. He puts his hands on her shoulders pressing down, lowering her until she is on her knees. Her eyes are level with the zipper of her pants. She gulps knowing what’s to come.

  She’s scared.

  She’s thrilled.

  Alexander unzips his pants and pulls out what is shocking to Scarlett. Her breath catches in her throat and suddenly she’s more scared than she is thrilled. It’s no secret that Scarlett hasn’t been with a man, she’s never seen a man naked in real life. Pictures, yes. But no pictures could prepare her for how big he is.

  Her wraps his hands in her hair tightly and forces her head closer. “Open,” he commands.

  As soon as her mouth parts he shoves his cock into her mouth. She nearly gags as salvia builds and she becomes conscientious of her teeth hurting the sensitive silken skin of his most precious organ. She’s unsure what to do, embarrassed by her lack of experience. He guides her head pushing himself further into his mouth and then retreating until only his tip is on her tongue. He does this until Scarlett gets the hang of it.

  Her tongue roams his cock licking the underside, teasing his tip. She looks up at him with wide eyes only to see him staring back, mouth parted and moaning very softly. Just when she thinks she has a sense of control, Alexander’s grip in her hair tightens. He forces himself deep down her throat. She chokes and starts to panic at the thought of being suffocated. He retreats only to do this again and again. Choking her and treating her roughly until he stills, bucking into her. She can feel his liquid spurt into her, the salty taste is unlike anything she’s ever tasted.

  When he retreats he bends down to cover her mouth, “Swallow.”

  And so she does.

  Alexander tucks himself back into his pants. He doesn’t help Scarlett up but orders her back on her feet. She gets no feedback for the completely vulnerable and intimate thing they’ve just done. She starts to feel self-conscious and her cheeks blush.

  “Go up to your room. Rosie will lock it once your inside,” Alexander doesn’t meet her pleading stare. She doesn’t want him to go. He turns on his heel and heads back into the kitchen.

  She watches him pour himself a drink before Rosie grabs her arm and pulls her along. Scarlett is once again a prisoner in this house, but this time she willingly gave a piece of herself. She wishes he would’ve comforted her instead of their hasty parting.

  Scarlett has a sickening feeling in her stomach. Crawling into bed, she cuddles up with her pillow remembering how she used to do so with the teddy bear from her recent remembered memory. Her eyes close in hopes of entering a dream much more pleasant than the reality she’s currently living.

  It’d been a few days since Hazel’s mother didn’t wake up. Policeman have been around the house asking questions. Her father told her not to say anything about that night. So, she told the cops she was asleep in bed. The lying didn’t sit right with her, the guilt eating her alive. Mommy always told her she should tell the truth. But Daddy said it would be very bad if she told the nice policeman what she saw.

  Hazel is rewarded for lying by going to the toy store to get a new stuffed animal. She would never replace teddy, but maybe she’d get a bunny. She grabs her teddy off her bed and skips downstairs to where her father is waiting by the door with his car keys in his hands.

  “Let’s go, Hazel,” he holds out his hand for her to take.

  In her father’s brown station wagon she is distracted. The guilt is hurting her stomach again. She still doesn’t understand why Mommy won’t wake up. They took her away, which Hazel doesn’t understand. Why couldn’t her mother just sleep in her own bed? That way Hazel could visit her and kiss her or hug her. She gives the best hugs.

  Her father’s sudden movement while driving startled Hazel out of her imaginative daze. Her father looks frantic shifting his car to go faster. Hazel grabs onto her seatbelt. She can barely see over the dashboard in the front seat.

  “Daddy, slow down!” She cries out scared.

  Her father’s eyes are fixated on something in the road. He only goes faster and faster until…

  The sound of cars colliding into each other is a horrible sound. But not as horrible as the way Hazel’s head hurts. She can barely keep her eyes open but the noise is so loud. Screaming. Cars honking.

  Hazel holds up her teddy bear stained with red. Blood. She brings her hand up to head to feel the warm liquid there. Blood. Hazel starts to cry and panic. To her left is her father, his eyes slowly blinking open and closed.

  Someone is still screaming.

  Hazel unbuckles her seatbelt and open the car door stepping out. She falls to the floor. Her vision is blackening and the world around her is spinning. Her head hurts so much. She’s in so much pain.

  The screaming gets louder.

  “Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!”

  ***

  Alexander leaves the mansion for the first time in over a week. He had been drinking, but that didn’t stop him from driving in the dead of night to his brother’s house.

  Atticus lives in a nice apartment not far from Alexander’s penthouse. It isn’t luxurious and isn’t as big a penthouse, but his two bedroom two bathroom apartment is perfect for his brother.

  He has never liked to overspend his money. Growing up poor for most of his childhood, he learned the value in things. He always ate the food off his plate hating to throw away and waste food. He never asked their parents for frivolous things, thinking it’s a waste of money. Even when he graduated high school and started college, when their father put thousands upon thousands in a bank account for Atticus to pay for his schooling and let him live above his means, he felt uncomfortable with it. He’s always lived minimal.

  Alexander calls Atticus to let him into his apartment building. The buzzer sounds and the door unlocks. He rides
the elevator to the fourteenth floor and down the hallway at room four-twenty-two, Atticus is standing in the threshold with his arms crossed.

  “Are you going to tell me where you’ve been for the past two weeks?”

  “Hello to you, too,” Alexander pushes past his brother inviting himself in.

  “Hello,” he says flatly shutting the door and locking it. “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure? I hear you’ve been ignoring everyone’s call.”

  “They worry too much.”

  “Are they wrong to?” Atticus raises an eyebrow. “Mr. Workaholic over here takes a ‘vacation’ to kidnap his secretary and her father to do who knows what.”

  “I thought you said you wanted in.”

  “Oh, I do,” Atticus smiles. “I’m just saying, no one has a clue what you’re doing or where you are. For all I know I’m talking to a murderer right now.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Good. Then I can still be of help,” Atticus disappears into the kitchen and comes back with two glasses and a bottle of his favorite bourbon.

  Alexander takes his glass and pours until it’s filled halfway. He swirls the liquid in his glass mulling over the idea of Atticus helping him. “I don’t plan on killing him.”

  His brothers face falls. “What? How could you not? That bastard killed our baby sister! She was only six years old!”

  Alexander puts his hand up. “I’m well aware of how old she was, Atticus. If you’re going to help me we do this my way.”

  “This is about the girl, isn’t it?”

  Alexander chews on the inside of his cheek before admitting, “Yes.”

  “What, does she have you pussy whipped?”

  “I’m not going to deny you from participating in making Gavin suffer. She was your sister, too. But I don’t want him killed.”

  “So then what?” Atticus sits on the couch across from where Alexander is sitting and downs the rest of the bourbon from his glass.

  “We make him pay. Psychologically. We torture him both mentally and physically. He has to understand the pain he put us through when we lost Ellie. Death would be a mercy. We make him wish he was dead.”

  Atticus regains his smile. “Okay,” he nods his head. “I’m in.”

  “Remember,” he points his finger at his little brother, “My way.”

  “Yessir,” he solutes. “So...where is your newest plaything?”

  “At my place.”

  Atticus tilts his head, “Liam and Olive said you haven’t been at your penthouse.”

  “My other place,” he shrugs. “And if I bring you there, your focus is on Gavin, not Scarlett. She’s mine.”

  “Come on,” he whines, “I can’t have a little fun?”

  “No,” Alexander growls. “And if you so much as look at her the wrong way I’ll strangle you.”

  “Geez, calm down Mister Territorial,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

  Alexander pours himself another glass of bourbon downing it all. He rubs at his forehead before saying, “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

  “What do you mean?” Atticus leans forward resting his elbows on his knees.

  “With Scarlett.”

  “Have you fucked her?”

  “No.”

  “But you want to?”

  “Of course I do but…”

  “But…?”

  But his feelings for Scarlett suddenly feel much more than just a conquest. Feels so much more than fucking her just to spite her father. He want to fuck her because he feels for her and that means it wouldn’t be fucking. It would be so much more. It would be something Alexander doesn’t even want to say.

  “Holy shit. You like her?”

  Alexander gives his brother an annoyed look. “And what if I do?”

  “I don’t see how that can go well. You’re torturing her father.”

  “I know that, Atticus,” he says through gritted teeth.

  “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. You’re keeping this girl prisoner too, right?” His little brother gives him a pointed look.

  Alexander shrugs, “What is your point?”

  “Have you ever heard of Stockholm Syndrome?”

  “That would be the case...if the roles were reversed.”

  “You don’t think she has feelings for you?”

  He doesn’t know how Scarlett feels. What he does know is that she couldn’t like him in the way he’s starting to like her. Atticus does have a point, he’s forcing her to live in the mansion with him. If she’s starting to feel anything...isn’t it likely a case of Stockholm Syndrome?

  But he knows her body. Her body craves him. She doesn’t fight him, she welcomes him to toy with her. Loving the dominance he asserts over her. He remembers shoving his cock so far down her throat that she choked—tears streaming down her face, drool down her chin—she wasn’t frightened. She loved it.

  “I don’t know,” Alexander admits.

  “Whenever let her go, my bet is that she's going to run far away from you.”

  Alexander sits back tapping his finger on the empty glass in his hand. “Who said I’m ever letting he go?”

  Atticus blinks. “I-I just assumed. I’m confused...isn’t it Gavin we want? Aren’t we going to kill him eventually?”

  “It’s none of your business,” Alexander says with aggregation. “Scarlett is mine now and Gavin deserves to pay—at least sixteen years worth of the agony I went through.”

  “And they call me the crazy brother,” Atticus scoffs. “Do what you please, I’m not a rule-follower like Liam or Kai. If you want to keep her go for it. But I think your stupid for involving your feelings.”

  “I couldn’t exactly help that,” he sets his glass down and pinches the bridge of his nose.

  “You want my advice?”

  “No,” he closes his eyes.

  “Well I’m going to give it to you anyways. I say fuck the girl and rub it in Gavin’s face.”

  Alexander cracks one of his eyes open. “How exactly is this advice?”

  “I say screw your feelings for her. Literally. Screw her. Fuck the feelings out you. Nothing good ever came of liking the girl that you’ve kidnapped and the girl whose father your torturing.”

  “This same scenario has happened before?”

  “No. But I imagine it isn’t good. You don’t give a happily ever after in this scenario. She’ll hate you whether you let her go or not. If not, she’ll grow to resent you eventually. Stockholm syndrome.”

  “Atticus, you know you really aren’t helping at all,” Alexander narrows his eyes at his annoying little brother. If he was going to talk to anyone about his feelings and expect an honest solution or good advice, it would be Kai or even Olive.

  Alexander stands ending their conversation. Atticus has always been a pain in his ass, he loves him, but boy is he trouble. He holds his hand out for his little brother to grab. “Looks like we have a deal.” They shake on it. “I’ll send you the address and the date I want you to come. If you tell Liam or—”

  “I promise I won’t,” Atticus says solemnly. “I want my revenge just as badly as you do.”

  Alexander is feeling buzzed after multiple glasses of bourbon. Still, he gets in his car and drives through the night back to the Hampton. He looks to his right staring at the empty passenger seat, remembering how excited Ellie was to sit in the front. She was bouncing in her seat, her brown curly pigtails bouncing with her. Her smile was so large and it warmed Alexander’s heart. That past week of school was hard for her, she didn’t have any friends and was starting to feel lonely. He wanted to cheer her up. She talked about all the different flavors of ice cream she wanted to eat. Alexander would’ve bought her every flavor if she wanted.

  Since Alexander was in high school at the time he was busy studying, hanging out with friends, sports, girl, he found himself becoming too busy for his siblings. Even Olive was busy with ballet and her friends. Liam was in middle school and at the time thought himself too cool to hang with their
baby sister. Kai and Atticus both kids but we’re dead focused on video games. Alexander made time for Ellie and she loved his attention. She was fun to hang out with, a stress reliever from the busyness of school. Ellie made him laugh the entire ride, she was singing along to Bohemian Rhapsody by Queen blaring from the radio.

  Ellie looked up to Alexander like he was everything. Their parents so busy that most of the time Ellie was left with a nanny. When she got attention from Alexander or one of their siblings or their parents she relished in it. He loved making her happy. He loved his little sister from the moment she came home.

  He would do anything to change back time.

  He would’ve rather died in that accident.

  He was supposed to protect her.

  He failed.

  ***

  CHAPTER TEN

  The doctors told Scarlett her amnesia was likely permanent. The past few days have been an influx of small memories from before the accident. Most of them painful. Her father an abusive drunk and her mother scared and desperate for an escape.

  Alexander has been gone for two whole days. Two whole days of eating by herself. Two whole days of being alone. No talking. No company. She’s been starting to get lonely, the only thing keeping herself occupied is her new memories. Trying to piece them together and re-learn about herself. She remembers a little girl—lonely Hazel, who had no one but her teddy. A part of her wishes she had her teddy her with her right now.

  What ever happened to teddy?

  The view from her window is of the backyard. Large and green, tall trees along the gate and colorful colors in the garden. A bench is in the middle of the yard, what she would give to sit there and breathe in the fresh air.

  Hazel’s favorite flower is a rose—the yellow ones not the red. She finds them beautiful and not to mention they smell wonderful. In her sketchbook are pictures of flowers she draws and colors with her crayons.

  Laying on a blanket in the grass, her teddy sits beside her while she lays on her stomach as colors. She’s drawing the purple tulips from the garden in their backyard. Her mother warns her not to pick them and let them live and grow, but on occasion Hazel has picked one and hid it in her room until it shriveled up.