by T. L Smith
What the hell is happening?
And why am I watching?
But the most important question is, why are my nipples hardening beneath this dress at what I’m witnessing?
After he comes with an animalistic grunt, he pushes her off him, puts his cock back in his jeans, and steps aside.
“Leave. Now.”
She wipes her mouth, stands, and looks back at me. Her eyes glare through angry slits at me before she spins away, her heels clicking as she leaves.
“What a show,” I say sarcastically, crossing my arms over my chest to cover my hard nipples and disguise my shaking hands.
I know from the moment the words leave my lips that it was a bad move. Looking up at him, I see him lick his teeth before he gives me his back, walks out the door, and slams it behind him.
Again, with the door slam.
Anger issues, that one.
Childish behavior.
Turning back to the window, I try to calm my nerves, but it’s no use. I just watched that bastard get a blowjob, and he knew I was here and demanded I watch.
What kind of man is he?
And why do I keep asking myself that?
Deciding to get up, I go to the closet and open the door. It’s full of suits. Black ones, and they’re all extremely expensive. I know he has money, it’s obvious from the way he lives and how he has servants.
Thumbing my fingers over the fabric of a suit jacket, I jump when I hear someone speak.
“Miss.” The boy is back.
“Do you do anything else other than check up on me?” I ask.
“It’s my job, Miss. Can I please escort you outside now?”
“Is it a request?” I ask. He looks at me, puzzled. “I mean, do I have to go?”
“Well, no, but I can take you out there.”
“No, I don’t want to go out.” I continue looking through Keir’s closet. “Where are we?” I mean, I know we can’t be too far from New York, but how far?
“Coney Island, Miss.”
Wow, okay, didn’t expect that.
“Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Then I hear his footsteps retreating. I keep searching but come up with absolutely nothing. He has no hidden areas and nothing for me to snoop into. I was hoping to find a phone. But, of course, he wouldn’t make it that easy for me to have access to outside communication.
“Your husband is here.” I spin on my heels to see Keir back so soon, standing at the door.
I’m shocked by his words and not even sure if I want to see my complete asshole of a husband. So, I ask him a question, “Do you know what your name means?” I change the subject
“Care to enlighten me?” he replies, unmoving.
“The dark one,” I say, referring to the meaning of his name, and he smiles at my words.
“Clever after all. Now, follow me.” He doesn’t ask me how I know the meaning of his name, and I wouldn’t know how to tell him anyway. When I was trying to get pregnant, that’s what I did, I researched baby books for names. I remember that name, and I liked it, despite the meaning.
It suits him. Keir.
Asshole.
“Sailor,” Keir barks my name, and I move to catch up with him. He takes me the same way I went to the dining area, and that’s where I see him—my husband—standing there, one hand on a chair as he watches me approach. No emotion crosses his face, no worry, no concern for my wellbeing. I could have been tortured or raped, and he doesn’t even seem to give one single fuck about it.
“Dillan.” He smiles at his name leaving my lips in a shocked tone. I do not return his smile.
“It’s good to see you.” He starts to make his way over to me but pauses and looks to Keir. I do the same and see him shake his head at Dillan. I’m thankful because if he touched me right now, I might knee him where his sperm does not shine. “Look …” he scratches the back of his head and looks to Keir, “… can I have a minute with her?”
“No,” Keir responds straight away, leaving no room for argument.
Dillan faces me again, and a look I know only too well after years of experience stares back at me. He is about to talk me into something. He always does it well, and for some stupid reason I listen. Obey even, like the good wife I am.
“You have lipstick, just here.” I tap my shoulder, indicating a spot on his wrinkled shirt. “Did you know?” Dillan glances at it, then shakes his head.
“It’s only until I get the money. Once l get the money, we can go away. A holiday like you’ve always asked for,” he pleads with me.
Lies.
We never had a honeymoon, and I’ve always wanted to leave America, but he never wanted to. So, we stayed home, he went to work, and I tried not to miscarry. It was a vicious cycle that I have no desire to repeat.
A cycle that it’s time I am set free from, even if the circumstances are less than favorable for me right now.
“Sailor, I see that look. Don’t think like that, you know we are destined. No one would treat you like I do. No one will love you like I do.” He steps closer, his hands reaching out to touch my face. I stay still, shocked that he’s even thinking of touching me right now.
Has he forgotten he just sold me?
“You only have one love, Dillan.” He smiles at my words. “Yourself.” His smile falls from his lips, then he sucks air through his teeth and his attitude changes in the time it took me to blink.
Turning from me, he addresses Keir, “You can keep the bitch.”
“I’m not yours to sell!” I scream back at him.
Dillan turns quickly and gets in my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “You are whatever I want you to be. And now you will be whatever he wants as well. Because you are nothing, Sailor. No one likes you, and you have no one.”
My mouth drops open in disgusted awe at his words that he could say something like that to me after everything I’ve done to please him. “You are so cruel.”
He shrugs and pulls back, completely unfazed. “You were just too blind to see it and always saw the best in people. Your parents warned you.” He smiles as if it’s a win, as if he’s happy he’s won. He’s gloating. My parents told me not to marry him, but I was young and believed Dillan loved me, that he could take me away from the life I was living. What a fool I was.
“Do you love me?” I have to know, not that it will change anything, but I need to know.
He licks his lips as if he’s contemplating answering me, then says, “We both fell out of love with each other a while ago, you just didn’t want to believe it. You pulled away from my kisses, you stopped liking them, and you pulled away from me in doing so.”
To be honest, I never liked the way he kissed me anyway.
Or the way he fucked.
Or … fuck. Anything.
From the corner of my eye, I catch Keir watching us as if we’re boring him with this interaction. We probably are, and to be honest, I can’t blame him for his lack of empathy. Why would he care about our marriage or our lives when I don’t give a shit if I see Dillan ever again.
“You have one week to pay this debt off. That’s all I will give you. After that, I’m walking out. And if this man chooses to kill you if you haven’t paid, that’s your problem, not mine. And … I want my phone back. I need to work.” I cross my arms over my chest and look back to Dillan when Keir says nothing in return.
“I can’t get that type of money in one week!” Dillan has the audacity to yell at me.
“Maybe you should have thought of that before you …” Turning away from him I don’t bother finishing because I don’t care anymore.
I walk over to Keir. “I’m ready to go back to my room now.”
Keir nods, and that’s the only answer I get from him before I move to exit the room.
“You don’t get to decide how long you’re here for,” Dillan calls out as I get to the door. “You are my collateral, my payment.”
Over my shoulder, I look at Keir, who hasn’t moved a muscle. He
briefly studies me, then looks to Dillan. “You have one week,” he tells Dillan, then saunters past me on his way out of the room. I send him my best smile before I follow Keir with a little pep in my step.
Fuck Dillan!
Fuck him every which way to Sunday.
“Thank you,” I say.
As we get to the door, I hear a loud scream and then Dillan swearing. When I step back through the door, I see Dillan on the floor with two men holding him down.
“That wasn’t for you. Do not think anything I do will be for you. I just came to realize you aren’t worth the amount he owes me, so a little push to get my pay and fuck you right off is just what I need.” My eyes go wide at his words. “Go to fucking sleep.”
Then he’s gone.
Chapter Seven
Keir
“You were meant to keep her,” Joey says as I sit opposite him in front of the fireplace. He just got back from doing some jobs, and most nights he doesn’t stay here. Except when his demons haunt him.
They haunt all of us—me the most.
I grunt at his words.
“Boss.” I turn to look at him as he passes me a crystal glass of whiskey. “We could use her.”
“For?”
He smirks. “Sex. I’m sure the boys will be gentle, at first.”
“You all get enough pussy,” I say back to him, gazing into the fire.
“Yeah, but a live-in one?” He nods as if it’s the best thought he’s ever had.
“We don’t rape women, Joey.”
“Whoa.” He holds up his hands. “No one said that. We could pay her. A lot.”
“No,” I answer back. We may be a lot of things, but that is something we are not. And we’ve done a lot of dark shit in our lifetime.
“Boss.”
We both turn.
Phillip stands there with his arms crossed in front of him and his eyes directed to the floor. “She asked to swim. She’s outside.” Phillip turns and walks off.
Finishing my drink, I place the empty glass on the table and stand.
“Bet she fucks your brains out. Those quiet ones are always so damn fuckable.” Joey laughs as I turn and walk out. I give him no response because it’s best not to encourage him.
Stepping outside, I find her sitting on the edge of the pool, still in that dress. I turn and wave Phillip in as I make my way closer to her.
She’s different.
I’m not sure how to describe her, but she’s not what I expected either.
“You must think I’m a weak woman,” she says, her eyes cast down at the pool’s surface as she speaks. How she knows it’s me, I’m not sure. “I wasn’t always that way. Sometimes things break you and you let them, even when you don’t realize it’s happening.”
I give her no words in reply.
I have no words to give her.
What I have to say, she doesn’t want to hear.
I’d be ruthless, and clearly, she’s had enough of that for this day.
“Sometimes, I just want to disappear.” She moves forward and her body goes into the water, falling forward until she is fully submerged. I step to the pool’s edge and see her touching the bottom, not coming up for air.
Glancing at my watch, I check the time, then look back to her.
She stays under.
One minute.
Two minutes.
I’m about to dive in after her when she finally pushes up off the bottom, sucking in air once she reaches the surface.
She eyes me, her gaze tightening as it locks on mine. “What’s wrong?”
“Why would you think something is wrong?”
“You have this look …” She shakes her head. “Never mind.” Then she goes back under again and I time her.
This time, she lasts almost three minutes before she comes back up, only this time she’s gasping for air.
“I used to swim every day, no matter the temperature. It was …” she flips to her back and starts floating, “… an escape.”
“Why are you telling me this?” I don’t recall asking for her life story.
“We have to spend a week together, so I figured you should know who is living in your house.” She turns, swims to the edge of the pool where the stairs are located, and looks at me before she climbs out, her dress now sticking to her tight little body. “I want my phone.”
“You’re making demands now?”
Those eyes that are infused with warm honey and green trees lock on me.
I can see the defiance in them, and I wonder why she never gave it to him. From what he said, he had total control over her. But I can see her fire there, sparkling behind those doe eyes, waiting for someone to light the match and ignite the tinder box.
“No, I am asking for my phone, so after this week I still have a job to go to because I know for a fact that he’s going to go home and sell everything we own, and I will be left with jack shit.”
She’s right, he’s probably doing that right now.
It’s the kind of people I go into business with, knowing full well who they are. Everyone in this life is here to serve their own purpose. Some just come along for a ride instead of taking ownership of the wheel.
“You should go inside.”
Sailor’s mouth starts to open, then she closes it and walks past me.
I’m still undecided if I want to kill her.
Time will tell.
Chapter Eight
Sailor
Phillip walks in with his head down as I sit at the window, still in my wet clothes. It’s dark and I’m tired, but I don’t know if I want to sleep just yet.
“Miss.” I raise my head and see him holding out his hand and in it is a key. I take it from him—it’s my house key. “Please go outside.” He leaves and I follow. When I get to the front door, which is open, there are two black cars and three men leaning on them, talking in hushed tones. When I step out, all three stop and two of them look directly at me.
He does not.
“You’re all wet,” one of them says.
I remember him as the cocky one sitting next to me at the dining table, his hair is perfectly slicked back, and he’s wearing a green shirt, but he isn’t as large as Keir. “But, baby, I haven’t said anything to make you this wet. Is it just the sight of me?” He winks, and a part of me should be repulsed, but I’m not. Something about him makes me feel at ease, and that’s dangerous.
“No, looking at you makes me dry. Dry as the Sahara Desert.” I smirk back at him.
“I can see your nipples,” he points out and looks straight at my breasts.
“They look good?” I ask him with a tilt of my head.
This time, he throws his head back and starts laughing. “They do. They really do. Now, if you would just remove the rest of your clothes so I can take a better look.”
“Roberto.” Keir says his name succinctly, and instantly, Roberto stops talking and turns away from me, but not before he throws another wink in my direction. Keir approaches and touches my hair, lifting just a few strands, feeling it between his fingers before he drops it back in place. Then he leans in closer. I can smell his breath on my face and a hint of whiskey hits my nostrils. His dark eyes, which hold notes of amber flecks, flick their way across my features.
“Go and get what you can carry. Try to run.” Keir reaches his hand to the back of my neck and pulls my hair slightly, just enough so our faces are now touching nose to nose, then he smiles. “I’ll eat you for breakfast, and not in the good way. You’ll wish you never fucking met me, do you understand?”
“I … I …”
I stutter, my lips basically moving on his as he speaks again, “I nothing. Tell me you understand.” He doesn’t care that our lips are touching. He makes no move to kiss me, he only wants me to know he holds all the power. That it’s his choice regarding everything.
I chant in my head.
It’s only a week.
It’s only a week.
But it’s already been a fe
w days.
Can I do another week?
“Understood.”
He backs off, and the cold air assaults my face again. Keir says nothing more as he goes back inside and leaves me standing there with two of his men.
“Come on, sweetcheeks, we don’t got all night. We need some action too.” Roberto winks at me as he gets into the passenger side of one of the cars. The other guy looks me over before he gets in the driver’s side and starts the car. I slide into the backseat, and they start driving just as I get the door closed. Not once do they ask me where I live or how to get there. It’s obvious they already know that. They speak of music and drinks, nothing to tell me any more about who they are or what they do.
I almost fall asleep on the ride to the apartment. When we arrive, I see the lights on and have to stop myself from telling them to keep driving. Both men get out of the car, and I follow. I watch as they walk up the stairs that lead to my green door, which I painted myself, and I think looks so trendy up against all the other dowdy ones.
I love this apartment. It isn’t overly big—nothing ever is in New York—but it was perfect for us. It’s cozy with two bedrooms, and I put a lot of effort into making it our home. Now, when I look at it under the night sky, I wonder what demons live inside.
There’s one I know all too well.
Roberto doesn’t play around, going straight up to the door and knocking hard. I only saw my husband a few hours ago, but when he pulls the door open, he looks trashed, like he came home and decided to drink everything available to him. His eyes fall to the men, then to me standing behind them.
“What are you doing here?” he spits, a beer bottle in one hand.
“I need to get my things.”
Roberto moves to the side so I can go in, and Dillan blocks the doorway.