The Immoral Ones- a Sinister Set

by Yolanda Olson

  I never knew that heartbreak was a physical feeling. It feels like a knife has been plunged deep into the muscle and instead of letting the life slip away by pulling the blade out and offering a merciful death, it lingers, hidden in the tissue with no hope for reprieve.

  “My name means nothing. Who I am means nothing. Everything means less than I thought it would because at least before, you would recognize me once we looked into each other’s eyes, but I don’t see your soul and you don’t see mine. We’ve failed one too many times. It’s over. I’m sorry.”

  “Chris” raises an eyebrow and looks at me as he raises his hands up and continues to back away. He’s no longer the man that I’ve loved with every fiber of my being and I’m no longer the woman his soul has been searching for. No songs of sorrow will be sung, no music will be played to mourn the world’s loss of us, and this is just how it has to be.

  The universe has finally gotten the upper-hand and now it’s time for everything to end.

  I reach into my purse and pull out the sharp butcher’s knife that I brought with me in case this happened, because even though I hoped it wouldn’t, I had a feeling that it would.

  But my heart won’t be the only one breaking. It won’t be the only muscle struggling for salvation, or desperate to find a way to live.

  Not until I send him back to the void before me.

  7

  He shoves me violently when he realizes the threat that stands before him now, and begins to run down the trail. The problem with his little escape plan is that he’s going the wrong way, and even though I’ve never been here before, I’ve studied a detailed map of the layout for months to prepare.

  He may be fast, but my fury makes me faster and I catch up to him in no time. I kick the back of his leg causing him to stumble and almost fall down. He manages to somehow catch himself before his face hits the pavement and it gives me the opportunity I need.

  I barrel into his back and send him the rest of the way into the ground. The loud crunch of his face as it smacks the trail, the grunt of pain as he exhales, sends another rush through me.

  However, this is a different feeling.

  It’s not the tidal wave of knowing that we belong together, it’s the tempest of realizing that we’re no longer meant to be, and it’s a rage I’ve never felt before.

  I use my newfound strength to turn him over roughly and straddle his chest, my feet holding his shoulders down, as I bring the blade up to his level of sight.

  “I want you to know that this is going to destroy me. It’s going to ruin everything that we’ve shared and I’ll mourn you for a short period of time, but you won’t go alone. I swear this to you—on the small amount of time I have remaining on this fucking Earth, I won’t let you go alone.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” he sputters frantically. “We can be together! I promise we can! I just didn’t recognize you at first, but I do now!”

  I pull the blade away from his face and sigh. I know this is a trick to save himself from what has to happen, but I want him to know that it won’t be as easy as lying to me.

  “Prove it,” I say simply.

  “Okay. Okay. How?” he asks, through bated breaths. “What do I need to do to prove that I know who you are?”

  I smile down at him, digging my feet further into his shoulders and he grunts in pain.

  “Tell me who you had to barter with to get me back the first time.”

  His eyes widen as he lifts his head off the trail, then they close tightly as he lets out a frantic breath of air. I can see tears starting to stream down the side of his face because he knows what I know.

  That he’s lying to me to save his own skin.

  “I’ll miss you,” I whisper as I bring the butcher’s knife high over my head then bury it deep into his throat. I won’t take his head, though the thought has briefly crossed my mind, and I won’t pull the blade out.

  People have to understand what happened here.

  They have to know.

  It’s about presentation and how things will be perceived, and while I will mourn him briefly, it won’t be for long.

  Epilogue

  Six months have passed since I sent Orpheus back to Hades and as I lie here on my couch flipping through channels, it amazes me that no one has figured out what happened to him.

  It seems to be a mystery—one that doesn’t show any signs of solving and even if they do, what’s the worst that can happen? I get arrested? They’ll have to prove that I’m not who I say I am, and that he’s not who I say he was.

  It’ll never happen because I know the truth and the universe is watching me closely.

  I let out a yawn and rub my eyes tiredly as I pull my legs up toward my stomach. The images on the television screen are moving quickly and there’s a hint of action happening so I decide I’ll watch this for now while I wait.

  If they ever come, they’ll find me where I last found myself—where I found Orpheus.

  The characters on the screen have their backs to me and I can feel myself becoming tired. I know I promised him that he wouldn’t go back into the void alone, but I haven’t found a reason to follow him just yet.

  I wanted his unconditional love and he gave me nothing in return except for mindless conversation and fear. He hasn’t earned my—

  I sit up with a start and use the remote control to raise the volume on the television. This show, whatever it's about, has my full attention now because as it turns out, I was wrong.

  The man who went by the name of “Chris” wasn’t the man that my soul has been yearning for throughout space and time.

  I was wrong.

  I was so wrong because giving me the most intense stare back from the screen is the true other half of my soul.

  As the remote falls from my hand and I become entranced with the man before me, I can hear it again.

  He sees me through all of the static and wires—through the glass and transmission, he sees me.

  “I love you, Dice. Don’t ever forget that I love you,” he says to me.

  I had the wrong man but now I have the right one and in another six months, I’ll have found a place to meet him and we’ll find each other again.

  Hopefully for the last time, but if I’m wrong again, there will always be another to take his place.

  I love you too, I think with a small smile as he and his partner turn their backs to me and walk away into the sunrise.

  …that’s how it always starts, you know?

  In the sunrise.

  The Thief & The Liar

  The Thief & The Liar

  Previously released in Love is Strange

  THE THIEF

  Prologue

  I use the back of my hand to wipe the sweat from my brow. This room has become so muggy and thick with a low-hanging cloud of cigarette smoke, but I don’t open the window. That’s a relief, a reward of sorts and I haven’t earned that yet. I hate this seedy, old fucking motel but it’s the only place I can ever think of to escape to when she tells me that she’s sick of looking at me.

  She never means it in a cruel way and only ever banishes me from her sight, for a lack of a better term, when we’ve gotten into one of our rare heated arguments. She does it for both of us; it gives her time to cool her temper and it gives me the opportunity to walk away and spend time alone.

  Not that I’m alone tonight, or any other night I’m away from her, for that matter. I usually find someone to pass the time with but never in a way that will break her heart if she found out.

  Though if she did ever find out, she’d never believe that it’s always for her.

  I was never her “type”; I knew that much from the very beginning. She never voiced it of course, but there are just some things that you just know by the way another person’s gaze falls upon you and others as they walk by. It’s been a constant turmoil deep inside of me to try to be everything I assume she’s ever wanted, but she’s never asked that of me and I like to think that maybe it’s
all in my head. Maybe when her hazel green eyes follow someone else down the street it’s not their appearance she’s looking at—maybe it’s their manner instead. I have to believe that because that’s the only thing that makes these nights spent in this goddamn place worth the work I put in.

  For every restless night and every drop of blood spilled; she'll know it was all for her and she'll be proud to love me again.

  I wonder if she’s thinking of me right now as much as I’m thinking of her. I hate being away from her; it’s almost like being away from the heart beating inside my chest and it’s a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

  I know it’s not forever because it never is, I just hate when I have to endure these moments. But I won’t sit here and wonder about her any longer than she’s worrying about me which is most likely not at all.

  Perhaps the cruelest truth of all is maybe that we don’t actually love each other but rather know that one cannot survive without the other.

  Of course it could all be in my head at this point and the sweet serenity of it all is that I’ll never know for sure, nor will I press the issue with her, because at one point we did love each other and I choose to believe that we still do.

  It’s why I return to her each time.

  It’s why she lets me.

  I have hope that our lives will be different one day, and we’ll go back to how things were, but for now I just hold onto the hope that until that day comes, she won’t tire of me. And maybe some day soon, she’ll ask me to never leave her side again.

  But my biggest hope of all is that the next time she whispers my name into my ear during a quiet, stolen moment, that she’ll finally understand that our souls were fated for each other.

  Chapter One

  The elevator is creaking slowly up to the main floor of our loft apartment and I’m as nervous as I am excited. Ella should be waiting for me, hopefully with open arms and a kiss, but our last argument was worse than any other of the ones we’ve had before, so I’m not sure how I’m going to be received tonight.

  I hope she won’t be too upset still, because I’ve already forgiven all of the things she said to me in anger. I know that her words never are meant to inflict grievous injury to my heart, and I do my best to always forgive her.

  She’s the sun and the moon—every beautiful fucking thing that lights the heavens during the day and illuminates the darkness at night.

  When the elevator door begins to open, I take a deep breath as I make my way toward our door. There are five apartments on this floor, but they all stand empty because I’ve rented them all. I want our nights of bliss to be ours alone and not have to worry or wonder if we’re disturbing anyone else with our passion. I want our days of anguish to be filled with howls of despair and bitter words, but not to be stopped by anyone who would think we need help.

  That’s for us to decide when it’s over and no one else can bring us peace like we can to each other when it’s all said and done.

  And it always finds a way to end. Usually with me being tossed out into the streets while she attempts to regain herself, and I’m okay with that because I love her.

  I clear my throat nervously as my hand finds the door knob. I can’t quite remember what I said or did last night that caused her such anger but I only hope that she’s forgotten it by now.

  “Hey, I’m home!” I call out, my voice cracking slightly.

  I close the door slowly, hoping for a reply, but no words greet me. She’s still angry with me and I wonder what I’ll have to do this time to make it up to her.

  “Ella? I’m home!” I say again in a stronger voice.

  Nothing.

  She’s pissed.

  I turn the locks on the door before I walk into the kitchen, careful not to glance into the living room where I know she’s sitting. It’s where she stays when I’ve been banished but she always greets me upon return. This is the first time she’s chosen to ignore me and I feel like my heart might shatter into a million fucking pieces if I don’t hear her voice soon.

  I drop my backpack on the long chair that sits by the window that Ells is so fond of spending hours in watching the world go by, then head to the refrigerator. I pull the door open and shiver slightly as the cool air from inside blasts against me a little stronger than normal and lean down to glance inside. Once I see my gallon jug half full of water, I let the door swing closed.

  I had already forgotten that I had turned down the heat in the apartment and raised the temperature to cool on as many of the appliances as I could, the central air conditioning included.

  Ella may not necessarily like a cold home, but I know she needs it right now because it’s the only thing that will keep her calm, and I’m more than willing to take my lumps for it later.

  I hum to myself as I lean against the counter and twist the cap off my jug. I’ve always been thirstier than most for some reason, but my doctor says it’s nothing critical to worry about. I don’t particularly trust medical science, but Ella’s always insisted that I stay hydrated—just in case.

  “Ells, are you hungry?” I call out.

  No answer.

  I don’t understand what the problem is. When we have our far and few in between arguments, she’s always over it by the time I get home and begs me not to leave again, which always makes me smile.

  I fuck up.

  She yells.

  I leave.

  She pines.

  I come home.

  She’s sorry.

  We have make up sex.

  That’s just how it always is, but considering she still doesn’t have anything to say to me, I’m afraid that putting my dick in her mouth may result in her biting it off.

  After I take a healthy swig of water, I set the jug on the counter, then screw the cap back on. I’m starting to get a little agitated by the silence, however, starting another argument because she’s still upset isn’t going to win me any points.

  I guess I’ll just try to talk to her.

  Chapter Two

  Ella is in the recliner, watching me with her perilous eyes, her lips still tight in anger and I’m nervous. I hate when she stares at me like that and I know I should give her some more time to cool off, but I can’t. I love her too much to try and ignore the situation any longer.

  “Babe, I’m sorry,” I begin quietly, lowering my eyes to the white carpet. “I didn’t mean all of the shit I said to you, and I know you didn’t mean any of what you said to me. Just tell me what to do to fix this.”

  A sigh escapes from somewhere deep inside of her, exiting through her nose and I glance up at the sound. If she stopped being so goddamn stubborn and opened her mouth to say something—anything—she wouldn’t have sounded like a fading foghorn just now.

  “Come on, Ells,” I say, finally losing my cool. I run a hand back through my hair irritably as I give her a dirty look. “The fucking fun is over now and you can talk. Even if it’s to tell to me to fuck off, say something already!”

  Ella is undeterred by my sudden change in emotion and continues staring at me with that same fucking expression that I left her with.

  I let out my breath in a long-winded sigh as I get to my feet and walk over to her. She never raises her head to look up at me, nor does she use her fingers to dig into the arms of the chair like she always does when I come close to her. She just sits there like a lump, rigid with anger and wrought with determination not to break her stance against me.

  I drop to my knees in front of her and place a hand on either one of hers as gently as I can. Looking into her eyes for some form of permission that never comes, I lean forward and kiss her softly on the lips, but she doesn’t return the favor. I take a steadying deep breath, as I move from her lips to her neck, sure that it’ll get a reaction like it always does, but nothing.

  Not even a swallow, a jerking reaction away from me. Fucking nothing.

  “Stop being so angry,” I whisper, grazing her neck with my lips as I move a hand toward the bottom of her shirt.
“I hate it when you’re this angry.”

  Even in her stoic silence, I know that she wants me as much as I want her right now. It’s part of the rules after I come back and we never break the rules.

  I slide a hand underneath her shirt, feeling the smooth porcelain skin that I know so well and let out a shuddering breath. I can feel my dick getting hard just at the thought of being inside of Ella right now, proving to her how sorry I am.

  “Ells …” my breath is ragged, consumed with longing for the one person that always loved me the most as I use both of my hands to pull her shirt off her body. It’s a bit of a struggle at first because she keeps her arms stiffly in place, but I manage and when I do, I see my prize.

  I move my lips down quickly and begin to suckle on her large, firm breasts, biting the nipples gently as I do my best to give her as much pleasure from the action as I’m getting. But if she’s feeling anything at all, she’s doing a damn fine job at hiding it from me.

  I squeeze one tightly in my hand and glance up into her unforgiving stare, licking and sucking gently, as I slide a hand down the length of her body and undo the button on her denim shorts.

  “Tell me that you love me,” I whisper as I slide her shorts down as best as I can and begin to circle her clit. She lets out another breath of air, but other than that, she refuses to give me what I want.

  “Do you need me, Ells? I need you so fucking much right now,” I say as I bite down on her nipple again and slide two fingers deep into her cunt.

  She’s wet because that’s how I left her and it’s enough to work with—for now. I let out a groan as I give her nipple one last, hard suck, then get to my feet and lift her body into my arms. She’ll come to her senses again once I lay her down in our bed—she’ll smile, beg me to fuck her until she can’t take it, and I will.