by Eden Darry
It crumbled fairly easily and she peeked through. It was pitch dark, but she could make out metal. She squeezed her hand inside to touch it. Cold. Definitely metal. Fin picked up the mallet and began to knock out more blocks.
* * *
Sadie splashed hot water onto the worktop at the first sound of banging. What was Fin doing down there? She’d spent the last two days in the basement. Clearing it out, she told Sadie. Sadie knew it was an excuse to stay out of the way. Ever since Lucy’s accident she’d become more and more withdrawn. Sadie knew she still wasn’t sleeping, and last night she hadn’t even come up to bed. Sadie had looked out their bedroom window at three in the morning and seen the light on in the workshop. She was worried about her. Worried about what this house was doing to her.
Fin completely dismissed her when she’d told her about Lucy being pushed off the playset. When Sadie insisted, Fin got angry and accused her of trying to sabotage their new start. Fin had never behaved like that before they moved here. Yes, she had a temper, but she’d never directed it at Sadie. Not that she’d actually done anything to Sadie, hadn’t really raised her voice all that much, but the threat was there. Sadie couldn’t explain it, but the way Fin looked at her…For a moment Sadie wondered if she might hit her.
Everything was back to normal the next day except that when she noticed Fin’s eyes on her, they weren’t loving any more. There was a coldness to them that Sadie didn’t like. She was starting to look at Liam in the same way.
Another crash came from downstairs, and then it went silent. Sadie was about to call out to Fin to check she was okay, but then she heard her move again—God only knew what she was doing.
Sadie finished making her cup of tea and checked the clock. Almost lunch. Rachel had taken the children out for a while. She was staying the weekend with them and told Sadie she wanted some time alone with her godchildren. Sadie knew she was really just giving Sadie and Fin a break. Rachel had noticed the dark circles under Fin’s eyes and the tension between the two of them. No doubt Rachel would question Sadie about it later. She wasn’t looking forward to it.
Behind her the kitchen door opened, and she turned to see Fin standing there, a strange look on her face. It took Sadie a moment to realize what it was. It was the look she got when she was horny, except this time there was something different about it, something almost predatory, and Sadie wasn’t sure if she liked it or not.
She leaned back against the kitchen counter. “What were you doing down there?”
Fin stepped into the room. There were smudges of dirt on her face and she was sweaty. She moved beside Sadie and washed her hands. “Tidying,” was all she said. She looked up from washing her hands and gave Sadie the once over, pausing on her breasts and licking her lips.
Sadie felt the familiar tingle of arousal she always got when Fin looked at her like that—well, not quite in the way she was looking at her now, but something similar.
Fin put down the dishcloth she was drying her hands on and moved into Sadie’s personal space. She gripped her hips, fingers digging into Sadie’s sides, and Sadie gasped. The tingle became an electric jolt straight to her centre.
“What time is Rachel back with the kids?” Fin’s mouth was inches from hers.
“At least another hour,” Sadie replied, her centre starting to pulse.
Without warning, Fin kissed her hard. She forced her tongue into Sadie’s mouth and kissed her with bruising force. This was new. The Fin Sadie knew was always gentle, no matter how excited she got. But something about this rough, demanding Fin was turning her on too. Her pussy clenched as Fin sucked Sadie’s tongue hard into her mouth.
Sadie broke away but kept her lips against Fin’s. “Yes, Fin. Yes.”
Fin spun her around and bent her over the kitchen table, face down, her hand on the back of Sadie’s neck. Something inside her started to tighten as panic rose. Before it could take hold, Fin let go of her neck as if she realized what she was doing, and the panic abated.
Sadie felt Fin fumble with her jeans, heard the zip dragged down as she waited for what Fin would do next.
Fin’s hands were on Sadie’s backside, kneading and stroking the flesh there. Sadie ground herself against the edge of the table, trying to seek some relief for her pussy which was swollen and wet. Her knickers were soaked through and uncomfortable.
Fin seemed to feel her need, and suddenly, she was pulling Sadie’s jeans and knickers down her legs to her ankles. Rough hands parted her cheeks and Sadie groaned as cool air touched her sensitive parts.
“Fuck, you’re wet,” came Fin’s voice from behind her, gravelly and full of need.
The sound of it made Sadie’s pussy contract. “Hurry, Fin,” she whispered.
Fin slid one finger from Sadie’s clit and up to her anus and Sadie moaned. “Your cunt is so fucking wet.”
Sadie balked at that. She hated that word and Fin knew it. Before she could protest, Fin’s fingers were either side of her clit, stroking roughly, squeezing it firmly, then probing at her entrance. Her other hand gripped Sadie’s wrists and held her arms flat on the table above her head. Sadie began to grind into her hand, desperate now for some relief.
“You like that?” Fin asked, leaning over her body and whispering against her ear.
Sadie nodded, trying to push herself on Fin’s fingers.
“Say it. Say you like what I’m doing to you. Say you like being bent over this table and getting fucked hard.”
Fin’s hand stilled and Sadie groaned.
“Say it, or I’ll stop.”
Fin had never been like this before. Sometimes they’d had hurried sex when the children were smaller. Sometimes they’d had hard, sweaty sex when they’d still been in the early days and couldn’t get enough of each other. Whatever kind of sex they had, it was always loving, and Fin was always present. This felt like something else, but Sadie couldn’t honestly say she wasn’t enjoying it, because she was. There was a hardness to Fin she was usually careful to hide from Sadie. Not today, though. Today Sadie felt her detachment, but Fin’s coldness only seemed to make Sadie hotter.
“I like it when you bend me over the table, Fin. I need you to fuck me hard. So stop talking about it and do it.”
Sadie cried out as Fin entered her from behind. She felt her own muscles tighten around Fin’s fingers, loving the way she pumped in and out of her, her thumb brushing against her clit.
Sadie distantly heard the table squeaking against the floor from the force of Fin fucking her. Sadie felt herself stretch around Fin’s fingers, and she cried out when Fin pressed her pussy against Sadie’s backside and started humping her.
Sadie focused on the wet sound of Fin’s fingers sliding in and out of her, the sound of Fin’s moans as she ground against Sadie’s arse. Her orgasm began to build, her pussy heavy and pulsing with it. Fin added a third finger, using her weight to push deep inside and send Sadie over the edge. Fireworks burst behind her eyes and Sadie flooded Fin with her wetness. She was still pumping inside her, oblivious to the fact Sadie had already come.
“Stop, Fin,” she managed to gasp, but she could feel another orgasm beginning to pulse again already.
“You can come again. Ah fuck, Sadie, I need you to come again.” Fin groaned without breaking the rhythm. Instead she ground herself even harder against Sadie, the hand that held Sadie to the table tightening almost painfully, and God help her, it was turning her on.
Sadie had never imagined this, but the rough was thrilling her in a way she hadn’t experienced since they met. She loved having sex with Fin, but they hadn’t fucked—properly just fucked—since the beginning. And not only that, but there was no tenderness to Fin now, no gentleness or care. There was this…animalistic fucking was the only way she could describe it, and now she was coming again and she was making noises that had never come out of her mouth before. Grunts and pants and moans as she pushed down and fucked Fin’s fingers relentlessly.
She was still coming down from her secon
d orgasm when Fin pulled out of her without warning, her other hand letting go of Sadie’s. Fin gripped her hips hard, painfully, and Sadie knew it would leave bruises. She pulled Sadie against her, thrusting her hips against Sadie’s backside, the slap of wet flesh and Fin’s grunts the only sounds. Fin cried out once, then collapsed on Sadie’s back, her weight pushing her into the table, the edge uncomfortable against her battered pussy.
Sadie’s chest began to tighten as her mind rebelled at the sensation of being trapped, unable to shift Fin’s weight off her.
“Fin,” she said desperately, hoping her wife could hear her.
Then Fin was gone, and Sadie took in a deep breath, two deep breaths. She stood up as Fin left the room.
Sadie reached down and pulled up her knickers and jeans. She fixed her hair, which had come loose from its clip. Downstairs, in the basement, the banging started again.
Chapter Twenty-five
“She just came in and fucked you on the kitchen table?” Rachel pretended to fan herself, then, as if realizing, pushed back in her chair. “Yuck, this table?”
“We only have one kitchen table, Rachel. Anyway I wiped it down after.” Sadie pulled on her sleeves which had started to ride up. Her hips weren’t the only place she was bruised.
Rachel’s eyes flicked downward to her arms. She didn’t miss a trick.
“Sadie. Did…I mean was it—”
“Yes. It was completely consensual. Fin would never do anything I didn’t want.” And she hadn’t. Sadie was a willing participant. It had been thrilling and dirty and tapped into something inside Sadie she’d never examined before. Something she definitely didn’t want to examine with her best friend.
Rachel nodded, not convinced.
“Rachel.” Sadie sat and took her hands. “I’m an intelligent woman. I know my own mind and what Fin did—what we did…” How did she explain it? “I liked it.”
“What about the bruises you’re trying to hide?” Rachel’s voice was hard. Her lawyer voice.
Sadie sighed. “We had rough sex. I wore this so the children wouldn’t ask any questions.”
“Right. So can I expect to see you bruised more often?”
Rachel didn’t get it. Sadie wasn’t sure if she did either, completely. She knew she had wanted it, though. “Rachel. Can we talk about something else please? You’re starting to annoy me with all your judgement.” Sadie withdrew her hands.
“I’m not judging you. I’m concerned about you—about both of you. You’ve been through hell and now Fin is…I don’t know how to describe it. Not herself. She looks like shit. Then I come back with the children, and you tell me she fucked you on the kitchen table, bruised you, and then disappeared without a word.”
Put like that, it didn’t sound too great, Sadie had to admit.
“When we were together,” Rachel continued quietly, “you never wanted sex like that.”
Sadie looked at her friend. They rarely talked about the time they were a couple. The relationship only lasted a few months before they decided they were better off as friends. There had never been that spark with Rachel like there was with Fin. They got on and had the same interests, but Sadie never had the urge to rip her clothes off, or to let Rachel take her as she’d let Fin earlier.
“Rachel, I didn’t know I wanted sex like that until I was face down on the kitchen table.” Something about that description struck them both as funny and they started giggling. The tension broke.
“I love you, Sadie. I just want to look out for you,” Rachel said, sobering.
“I know, and I love you too.”
“I mean…I really love you, Sadie.”
“I really love you. You’re an amazing friend to me. Believe me when I tell you nothing happened between me and Fin I didn’t want. Okay?”
Rachel nodded. It seemed like she wanted to say something else, and she hesitated before raising one eyebrow. “Face down on the kitchen table, eh?”
They both started laughing again.
* * *
Fin carried one of the boxes upstairs and into the kitchen. She could hear the two of them in there giggling like idiots. They were probably pissed already. Fin sighed and shook the mean thought from her head. Why was she bothered about that? Sadie and Rachel always drank too much wine when they got together, and she’d never cared before.
She never cared before they bought this place and all the work that came with it. Now Fin was doing all the work of making it nice for them, while her wife got pissed and did nothing. She hadn’t even been in the basement, hadn’t seen how fascinating it was.
Fin banged the box down on the kitchen table between Sadie and Rachel.
“Hey!” Rachel cried, lifting her glass of wine out of the way. “Careful, Fin.”
“God forbid I spill your precious wine, eh, Rachel?” Fin wiped the sweat from her forehead. It was hot in the basement and she was soaked.
“Is everything okay, darling?” Sadie asked cautiously.
“Fine. While you two have been sitting up here, I’ve been down there working all day,” Fin said.
“Not all day.” Rachel winked at her, and Fin couldn’t explain why, but she had a strong urge to punch that smug grin off her face.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Fin snapped.
“Fin!” Sadie stood. “Don’t be so bloody rude. She was joking with you.”
She saw Rachel eyeing her coolly. “Is everything okay, Fin?” she asked.
“Fine, thanks, Rachel. How are you? Still shagging your way through London?”
“Why don’t you just go away if you’re going to be so horrible,” Sadie said, standing. “Seriously, bugger off back to the basement or something.”
Fin turned without another word and left. She heard Sadie apologizing for her as she shut the door behind her.
She got to the basement door and saw Liam standing at the bottom of the stairs, worrying his bottom lip. Fin plastered a smile on her face. How much had he heard?
“What’s up, mate?” She tried for a friendly tone even though she was impatient to get back in the basement.
“I had a nightmare. What’s shagging?” he asked.
Fin cringed inwardly. “Something you don’t need to worry about for a while yet. Come on, I’ll take you back to bed.” She held his hand and led him back up the stairs.
“Is it something you get when you’re old? Like sore knees?”
Fin laughed. “Sort of. What was your dream about?”
“Koosh,” he said quietly.
“Lucy’s imaginary friend?”
“He’s not imaginary,” Liam said climbing back into bed. “He lives here. Floyd sees him too.”
“Floyd who helps me?”
Liam nodded. “He doesn’t like coming in the house because of Koosh. Koosh scares him.”
Bloody Floyd, putting ideas in her son’s head. She’d deal with him tomorrow—no, tomorrow was Sunday. Wasn’t it? She’d deal with him on Monday.
“Don’t listen to Floyd, mate.”
“Koosh pushed Lucy off the playset.”
Fin ground her teeth. “Who told you that? Your mother?”
Liam shook his head. “No, Lucy. She doesn’t want to play with him any more.”
“Come on, lie down.” Fin stroked his head and tucked him in. She’d deal with fucking Sadie tomorrow as well. Using the kids like that wasn’t right—she’d obviously told both of them her stupid story about Lucy being pushed. “Night, mate.”
“Night,” Liam replied.
Fin left his door open a crack to let in some light from the hall. She was in the basement again before she remembered she hadn’t asked what happened in his dream.
Chapter Twenty-six
Fin pushed open the door and stepped into darkness. The door clicked shut softly behind her. There was nothing to light her way along the narrow passage, but she didn’t need it. She knew where she was going.
She followed the stairs down, her bare feet making no sound on the cold woo
den boards. They didn’t even squeak. At the bottom a faint light glowed some distance away, and she walked towards it until she was standing in a long narrow room. Shelves lined one wall and were filled with books and jars and papers. In the middle was a steel table like something you might find in a mortuary—not that she had ever been in a mortuary, but she’d watched enough television.
The table was streaked with blood and it was fresh. Fin knew it was fresh because she could still smell it in the air, that coppery scent mixed in with the damp, rotten smell of the basement. Tools were discarded on the table, and they were also covered in blood. They were wicked looking and sharp and something turned over in her stomach.
Fin turned at the sound of a whoosh, like a boiler kicking in. A door squealed on rusty hinges. Fin walked towards the sound, further along the basement. It was the furnace she’d uncovered earlier. Except now a fire burned brightly within, letting off waves of heat. She peered through the small window in its door but couldn’t see anything except flames.
In the centre of the basement was another table. This one was much larger, though, and Fin couldn’t remember seeing it down here before. On it lay two lumps covered by sheets. Fin’s heart began to thump in her chest. Her legs moved of their own accord towards the table, and her shaking hand lifted itself to pull away the sheets, despite her mind issuing a command to stop.
She didn’t want to know what was underneath, afraid she already did. Her hand trembled, lifted the corner of the sheet, and pulled it back. She’d never met the man who lay there, but she knew him from his photograph. Lance Sherry’s waxy, still face stared up at her, his eyes wide open and milky, a scream caught on his lips. She couldn’t say she was sorry for how he’d ended up, though it sickened her all the same.
Fin moved along to the next sheet, more confident now she knew it wasn’t her family underneath. Her hand—still with a mind of its own—lifted the sheet, and this time she did cry out.