"She was an angel," she wailed before screaming, "A goddamn stupid angel! Stupid angel! Now she's dead. He cut her all up. He made her cry! He made her cry! Until she died!" The last word came out on an endless scream. Like a tombstone in my heart where her memory had been. He made her cry until she died.
Chapter Eight
We left the first assignment in total silence. Silence of a funeral. Because that's what it was. A fucking death. I'd been sent to deal with my past demon that I had no clue about. And I'd gotten run over. Crushed. My phone vibrated in my pocket not five minutes later. I didn't even pull it out. I couldn't handle a fucked up assignment.
"Ah shit."
I looked at Tara and she wagged her phone at me. "So sorry baby. I know it's not a good time."
While she read hers, I called Steve's phone. He rolled down the window between us, his eyes on the road.
"Stop at the first store you come to, please."
"Yes sir."
Tara scooted over to me and kissed my cheek. But the feeling was all wrong. "I'm sorry baby. I know it's a bad time. But…"
But we had no choice. Right. How the fuck was I supposed to keep a hard on? And what the fuck did they text me to do? "Can we do it after we stop?"
"Sure, yes. Of course. It's nothing…major."
I leaned and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, love," I whispered.
She wrapped her arms around me and just held me to her chest and stroked the back of my neck. "It's okay, baby."
The dam broke and I clutched her to me and gave over to the pain of failing someone I'd cared about. The whole thing came rushing back. I'd tried so hard to talk Maddy out of leaving, but she'd just smiled and handed me the bracelet I'd given her to symbolize a collar of protection. You know I'll always care for you, Lucian, but this is what I want. He makes me happy. He's good for me.
And I'd still begged her to stay. I knew he was bad news, seriously bad, but I had no proof. It was just my instinct, and in the end, that hadn't been enough to convince her. A few weeks later, a detective came to my door asking about her. Her landlady had reported her missing. I'd searched and searched, combing back alleys and bars and clubs, asking about her. But Maddy had simply disappeared.
The police had dogged me for months, convinced I had something to do with her disappearance. The only thing that kept me out of a cell was some of her friends confirmed she had a new love interest. At the time, I hadn't cared. I needed to pay for failing her, but the detectives kept cutting me loose.
Suddenly, the urge to punish myself was overwhelming. I shook with it. I needed to hurt. I started to pull back from Tara, but she held on.
"Don't do it, don't you shut me out." She wrapped herself around me, fighting me, refusing to let me inflict the pain I deserved. "None of it is your fault, Lucian. None of it. You tried. It wasn't her fault either. The whole thing lies on the head of the beast that killed her. All of it. This is not your cross to bear."
****
At the convenience store, I got out of the car and knocked on Steve's window. I placed my forearms on the door, putting me close enough to whisper. "I need your help."
That empathetic crimp in his brow deepened as he quickly undid his seat belt and got out of the car. "I'll accompany you into store?"
"Yes. Yes that works." I rubbed the back of my neck, praying Tara didn't decide to join us. Steve cut out with a curt determination and I hesitated a few seconds before following.
I looked around for him in the store and found him eying me from a rack of post cards followed by a raise of his brows. I made my way over and pulled out my phone and finally read the dreaded text. Taunt Tara in public.
Swearing under my breath, I handed him the phone and he read it then looked at me with a what the fuck pinch in his brow.
"And again you can't tell." His face turned horrified, like that was the worst part of all. And it fucking was. "Until the end," he added, staring into the air with wide eyes before snapping his gaze to me. "What will you do?"
"I was hoping you might help with that."
Somehow his eyes got bigger. "Me? What…what do you mean?"
"I mean I don't know what to fucking do! Taunt Tara in public," I hissed. "I don't exactly have a ready list waiting to be spouted."
His gaze turned suddenly hooded and he looked around casually before saying in his paramedic tone, "Don't panic. We'll figure this out. No problemo." He studied the post card rack now and snapped one out. "I need to get one for my mother. You can taunt Tara in front of me, that's public, and least painful."
"And likely the least points."
He hissed and jumped a little like I bit him. "You are likely correct on that." He put his hand on the unstable rack and exhaled slowly through that weird grin, his expression one of miserable constipation. He snapped his fingers and looked at me, hope sparkling in his blue eyes. "In here. I'll call her in and you can…" his eyes widened and his face turned red in his thinking, "call her mean nicknames at the register!" He leaned in close, his eyes burning with excitement, "Under your breath," he rasped the last, like that was the million dollar idea that would exempt me from the sure shit storm this would cause.
Whatever, what did it matter? Now or never. I froze. "But then she won't want to do the sex text."
He quirked his brow. "You're talking about Tara here. Stop at nothing to win?"
I sighed and shook my head. "It's bad to fucking have her do anything sexual while she's pissed. Just bad!" I sliced my hand through the air in emphatic refusal. Wasn't going to make her do that. No.
"Then the sex first and I'll stop at the next exit."
I nodded, wanting to pull my hair out. "Yes. Okay, let's do this. Fucking get done."
Time to Dom the fuck up and get this bullshit over with. There would be no delicate way, no gentle way to make this fucking mess.
****
I got in the car and leaned in and kissed Tara. "I missed you baby," I whispered, pushing hair behind her ear.
She smiled against my lips. "You went in the store."
"Did you need anything before we…"
"Before I," she whispered.
"Before you…?" My heart raced as I let the desire in her voice ignite my fire.
She began working my t-shirt off of me, then unbuttoned my jeans. "It's just a simple task. Nothing major."
Desire flooded my cock at what it might be as I helped her get my clothes off then began helping remove hers.
When we were both naked, she stared at my hard cock and lifted my arms, placing them on the back of the seat. "You can't touch me." Next she pushed my legs until they were as wide open as she could possibly get them. Then she opened the drawer and pulled out the lubrication, fuck yes. She covered her middle finger with it and my pulse hammered my entire groin.
"Fuck," I whispered. "Tell me what you're going to do."
She bit her lower lip and raised her pretty gaze to me, a raw and devious passion tugging at the corner of her mouth. "I think you know." She lowered her finger between my legs and twirled it on my ass, making my eyes roll shut.
I grabbed hold of the back of the seat and held on. She looked at me and leaned in close while teasing my ass with her finger, promising to enter any second. I gasped and rolled my hips. "Yes, God yes."
"You want it?"
I leaned for her lips and gave her a hard grunt when she grabbed hold of my cock in her other hand. "You know I fucking do. Always."
She angled her head and nipped at my lips, sliding her hand up and down my cock, slowly. Again I rolled my hips, fighting to get more of that pressure she was teasing me with. She finally pushed in, just barely and I gave her a long hard groan, gripping the leather tightly. "This what you want?" She pushed in more and began moving her finger in and out with a maddening slow erotic motion that drove me to a dangerous point. The point where I broke all the fucking rules to have what I had to have.
"Fucking give it. More. Deeper."
"Oh baby," she gasped, diving on m
y mouth and plunging her tongue and her finger deep. With her hand stroking my cock, it brought my orgasm nearly instantly.
I choked on the pleasure that gripped me, my mind frozen in the ecstasy of what she fucking did to me, my fingers digging hard into the seat. Insane and terrifying pleasure.
Tara's gentle kisses brought me back down to earth gradually and she curled into my arms while I caught my breath.
My pulse finally slowed out of the danger zone and I leaned to claim her mouth. "I fucking love you so much."
****
I watched Lucian clean his cock with the wet wipes while I used tissues. He looked so good touching himself and no matter what he was doing when he handled his cock, it looked yummy. I focused on not looking at him, my stomach burning with the need to fuck him after enduring what I'd just done to him. I found a drawer to throw our napkin waste in. They really needed to come up with a better provision for that. Soon after we were dressed again, Steve announced we would be stopping soon. Good, I couldn't wait to get to a ladies room, and my stomach growled, reminding me it had been a while since breakfast.
The car slowed for the exit and came to a complete stop shortly after, then a left turn and back up to normal speed. I watched out the window as the outskirts of some town or other rolled by. It looked like any other town off the interstate with gas stations, convenience stores, motels and fast food joints crowded tightly along both sides of the road.
A few blocks further down, discount stores and strip malls took over, with a little better species of fast food joint, and still we continued. Gradually, the highway sprawl gave way to actual streets with real businesses. Steve parked us at a mom and pop restaurant and shut the car down. Moments later we were inside, seated at a booth.
I stared at the menu, feeling Lucian's eyes on me. He was being weird again. Fidgety. Now what had I done?
"What are you guys having?" Steve closed his menu. "The Lemon Garlic Tilapia really sounds delicious."
Steve was acting weird too. Weirder than usual. Both of them. I studied the menu, pursing my lips, resisting the need to bite my nails, reading through the entrees for the second time. The waitress came to the table and I was no closer to knowing what I wanted.
"My name is Stacey, I'll be your server today." She set silverware at the table.
"Hi Stacey," Lucian said with an oddly pleasant note in his voice. "How are you this evening, love?"
"I'm fine, thank you for asking." Bubbly smile, pen rat-a-tat-tapping on her little order pad. "What can I get for you?" She eyed him, oblivious to the other two of us at the table. I looked at Lucian who studied his menu like he were…looking at a playboy centerfold. A hot fire grabbed my gut and gave a vicious twist.
Deep breath in….Calm. Ocean. Sea mist.
Deep breath out…Warm waters. Gentle breeze. Peace.
Keep your shit. Keep your cool.
I presented the waitress my most pleasant smile and placed my order with perfect confidence and exact articulation, then tucked an exact hair portion behind my ears before sipping my water.
"And you, sir?" she asked Steve.
I felt Lucian's eyes on me and looked at him to find a strange frown on his face. He angled his head, staring at…
"Wow… I never realized how big your ears are!"
Fear stole my breath and I leaned away as he reached over and measured them with his fingers. "Whoa," he gasped a laugh and showed the world the size of my ears then compared them to his tiny ones.
The waitress giggled and anger rushed in next.
"I suppose that's not a bad thing." Lucian bit his lower lip, smiling at the waitress. "Could be like handles."
Fury reinforced my anger and I sat there shaking, staring at him. He finally looked at me and that fucking smile on his face…
Murder reflexes hit and I grabbed the glass of water and shot the contents into his stupid face then hurried away from the table before I did something really really stupid. Like beat that fucking bitch down to the floor for having a sympathetic look for the bastard.
I paced outside the little diner, shaking my hands. Leave. Walk. Walk. Leave.
I took off into the parking lot, my eyes locked on the road before me.
"Tara!"
My legs pumped faster. Get as far away as I could. That was the immediate emergency. The more distance between me and him, the better.
Pain flooded my chest and I gasped as everything blurred.
"Tara! Stop!"
He spun me to face him and I swung at him. My fist connected with his chin and it suddenly became clear what I needed. I needed to beat his fucking ass.
I unloaded my fury, nailing him with punch after punch, aiming for his pretty fucking face. Kill that motherfucker. Fucking bastard.
He held up his forearms, blocking my strikes. I used my feet, forcing his guard down then nailed him in that face of his, that fucking smirking face he'd given the waitress. I landed another good lick right in his mouth before he returned to blocking me.
He suddenly launched forward and tackled me to the ground, knocking about two percent of insanity loose from my brain.
"Stop, just stop," he gasped, fighting to get control of my arms. Amazingly the bastard managed to pin me, bringing my anger back. "I love you," he gasped, "stop. I love you. I love you."
"Get. Off." I strained to throw him but he successfully resisted again.
"Don't fight me. Don't leave. Please."
I waited for several, no, many seconds for him to apologize and all I got was him staring down at me like a dumb bastard. "I want to go to the car."
"Tara."
I glared at him hard and long, wishing I could make his eyeballs explode in his head.
"I love you."
The desperate plea in his tone reached a part of me that seemed to turn the lights back on and shut the crazy movie off. Like a bad drama scene come to a close. I finally took notice of the crowd surrounding us and the murmuring.
Jesus. Christ. It was starting to look like a lynch mob. For just an instant, I felt a flash of fear for him. What if they thought he was attacking me and decided to stop him?
"So much, baby. I love you. Tell me you know that."
Again the sound in his voice cut through my fury and tugged at my heart. It was…irresistible. Because it was true. I knew he loved me. He'd proven it over and over. He'd gone to great lengths to earn my trust. So why was he suddenly being such a fucking jerk?
It really didn't seem like it was his nerves. I'd understand if it was, of course. What else could it possibly be?
Chapter Nine
I stroked Tara's head in my lap wanting to murder something. Anything. Take something the fuck apart for making me hurt Tara. Bastards. Some truly sick fuck was behind those texts. When this was all over with, I was going on a hunting trip. I was going to find the cruel bastard and take him apart bit by bit. Every single tear Tara had shed during this round was coming out of his hide.
My phone pinged with a call and I pulled it out, ready to vomit. It was just Steve.
"We're nearing the hotel. Do you want to stop anywhere first? Need anything? Does Tara?"
"No, just get us there, Steve. Sick of this car, no offense." That was putting it mildly but I didn't have the energy to say more.
"None taken," he said coolly. "We'll be arriving at our destination in approximately three minutes."
I sighed. "Thank fuck."
Tara stirred with a soft moan and I hung up the phone. I didn't want to give up this peaceful time with her, just holding her while she slept. But more than that, I wanted to run her a hot bath and give her a massage and make love to her. The chance of her letting me do anything like that was nightmarishly slim. I might not be able to say I was sorry, but I had to find a way to show it, to make her believe.
My gut tightened as I traced the shell of her ear with my finger. I fucking loved her ears. So fucking much. Look at them. So sweet and perfect. How could she believe that bullshit back there? I'd picked t
he most obvious lie, praying she'd know it was just the fucking game. I'd never get her expression out of my head. The nightmare that evolved on her face. First confusion that she'd heard right. Then fear that it might be true. Then pain that it was. Then the worst of all. Betrayal. Like I'd lied to her all this time and that stupid bullshit had been the truth all along.
We made it to the room and Tara went straight into the bathroom without saying a word. The sound of the shower reached me and I sat on the bed with a thousand pounds of misery in my bones. She wouldn't accept any kindness from me at the moment.
Couldn't fucking tell her I was sorry. Couldn't tell her why. So fucking stupid.
I got undressed and paced in only my briefs, my inner drive set to super-dread. Dread of the next text. Dread of what Tara was feeling. Dread of what was going to happen to us. Dread that they'd killed the last shred of her love for me. Dread of the next demon domination.
My phone rang on the side table and I hurried to it.
Steve whispered, "Scores are up."
Add dread of the scores to that list. I shot a glance behind me. "Do I want to know?"
"It's…not so bad."
"Fffffuck. What room are you in? I'm coming."
"215. Two doors to your left."
I went to the bathroom door and knocked. "Hey, Steve needs to talk to me, I'll be back soon. You need anything?"
I waited in the silence, my gut tense. "I'm fine. Thanks for asking."
I closed my eyes at hearing how very fine she wasn't. She was scared, I could hear it behind all her wavery confidence. Fuckers. "Okay, love. I'll be back in a few." I stroked the door with my fingers, aching to hold her tight before tearing myself away. The temptation to go in there and tell her all of it was nearly more than I could bear.
Steve waited for me outside his room like a doorman, doing a poor job of hiding the oh fuck, constipating his expression. He opened his room door the second he saw me and I followed him in.
The deadbolt engaged and he turned and made a beeline into the living room part of the suite.