by T. L Smith
As I drive to their house, I consider bypassing the crematorium, which I’ve been avoiding all week, thinking it will help. But as I drive by, I see his truck in the exact same area it was the last two times I was there. My heart rate picks up, and I have to tell myself, ‘do not turn in, you don’t need to see him.’
Marcus knows where I live, but I haven’t heard from him.
And believe me, I want to hear from him.
Marcus is perfect in an imperfect kind of way.
Deciding it’s not a smart move to go near him—even if I desperately want to—I keep going. My family is all there when I arrive. My sister, Kat, who has her baby on her hip, is the first person I see when I walk inside. She smiles and leans in for a cuddle. I take my niece from Kat’s hands and focus on her as my parents come out from the kitchen.
“Rochelle, you’re late,” my mother chides while shaking her head. “But I made your favorite, chocolate brownie.” She claps her hands as she reaches for my niece in my arms. “Come to Grandma, baby.”
“Mom, no chocolate,” Kat yells out to her, to which my mother doesn’t reply.
My father walks out, hands me a glass of wine, and walks away. “So, who’s the mystery man?”
Putting the drink to my lips, I look over the edge of the glass at my sister. We look much alike—the same strawberry colored hair and blue eyes. We are two years apart and not as close as we should be, but I am trying.
“What, man?” I play dumb. I wasn’t aware Kat saw me with him at the funeral. Then again, I wasn’t paying much attention to anyone on that day.
“Oh, come on… that tall, dark, handsome man.” she waves her hands around. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know him.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t know him? But you got in the car with him?” she asks, then shakes her head. “Please don’t tell Mom that. She will hands down die.”
“I wanted a one-night stand.” I shrug.
“Well, I had that… and look where it got me,” Kat says, referring to my niece.
“Annabelle is perfect,” I say in my niece’s defense.
“Of course she is, but her father has never contacted me. Didn’t even care that I was pregnant. And I told him to wear a condom.” She rolls her eyes. “All I’m saying is… make sure you watch him slip that sucker on before he slips in you.”
The baby starts crying and Kat walks off to retrieve her.
Finishing my glass of wine, I get up to pour another when my mother walks back out.
“Dinner is ready. You weren’t leaving, were you?”
“No.” I sound more defensive than I meant to with that one-word answer.
“Good. Good.” Mother nods her head, and then because it’s her birthday and her parents are dead, she starts crying. Wiping at her face, she tries to hide her tears.
I step up closer, wrapping my arms around her. “It’s okay, Mom. It’s okay.”
“I miss them. Do you wish it were me instead?”
“No,” I say automatically. “What?”
“You always wanted to be with them. Never me.” She’s not wrong, but it’s not in the way she’s thinking. My grandparents simply got me in a way my mother never has.
“I love you, Mom. Come on, let’s have a good night, shall we?” I pull back, smiling at her. “It’s your birthday.”
She nods.
And I try to keep my smile on my face for as long as I can, so she knows I do want to be here celebrating with her tonight.
Marcus is still there, his car’s parked in the same spot. I almost missed it, but as I pull up, I sit in my car and wait. He has to come out soon, and when he does, I want to know why. Why he walked out on me. Opening my cell phone, I lock my car from the inside, turn it off, and crack a window slightly to let some of the cool night air in.
I sit there for a few minutes before a knock on my window startles me. Turning, Marcus’ dark eyes are staring right at me. The green is gone from them under the night’s sky and they look darker, almost black.
“Did you not hear the part where I said I would ruin you, pretty girl?”
I shrug.
Marcus leans down, and I wind my window down farther, so I can see him better.
“What do you want?”
“Why did you leave?”
“You aren’t ready for someone like me. I know it, so it was easier that way.” His words make me shake my head.
I reach for my keys, taking them out of the ignition, and push on the door to open it. Marcus’ hand holds it, so I can’t push it open all the way.
“You aren’t this stupid. Tell me you aren’t this stupid?” He steps back, letting me open my door. As I get out, I slide my keys into my pocket, then lean against my car.
“I’m allowed to be stupid this week.”
“It’s been over a week.”
“Okay, I’m allowed to be stupid when I damn well choose.”
Marcus shakes his head at my words.
“I wanted to see you,” I tell him, the words falling from my lips as easily as a lie. Except these aren’t lies. I do want to see him. So badly in fact, I can’t seem to stay away.
One hand goes to reach for him. He looks at it when I cling to his shirt. Stepping forward so my hands are now both on his chest, I look up at him and he’s watching me with intent.
“I’m working,” is all he says.
“I can watch you work.”
Marcus’ head drops to the side. “You think that’s smart? I work in there.” His head nods to the side, indicating the crematorium. A shiver runs through me from the last time I was in there and what I saw.
“I want to watch you work.”
Marcus leans down until his lips almost touch mine. “Would you like me to fuck you on the table too, with a cold, dead body touching yours?” His breath is hot and it sends shivers all over me. “Would that turn you on?”
It doesn’t, not at all. But he does. So, I think it’s best I don’t answer his question.
“I want to watch you,” I breathe, as my eyes stare at his lips, waiting in anticipation for them to touch mine.
They never do.
Marcus pulls away, the distance between us is not something I’m fond of. My fingers twitch with an urge to pull him back down to me.
Marcus cocks his head to the side. “Maybe this will keep you away.” He starts walking, and my feet step one in front of the other as they follow him back inside the crematorium.
It’s dark when we enter. He touches the switch, and once everything is illuminated, I can see everything. There’s a dead body covered by a white sheet in the room that he walks into. He holds the door open for me and waits for me to cross the threshold. My hands start sweating and I wonder if I should turn and run. It would probably be the smart thing to do.
Marcus is not what I usually go for in a man. I prefer a man who likes to talk. Usually the beach boy look, with tanned skin, blue eyes, and blond hair.
Marcus is the exact opposite of everything I am normally attracted to. Maybe that’s why I’m so captivated by him, or maybe I have issues? I haven’t quite worked that one out yet. But right now, the draw I have to this man is undeniable.
Irrefutable.
Unequivocal.
I just want a taste.
But Marcus keeps leaving me at every turn.
“Pretty girl?” he questions.
My heels click on the white marble floor as I follow him. He shuts the door behind me, locking us in, and walks over to the dead body.
I watch as he puts on an apron, followed by a face mask which is clear as well as gloves. And then there’s a gasp so loud that I don’t think it comes from me, but I’m sure it does, when he looks up at me with a saw in his hand.
“You can still run, pretty girl.” Marcus is giving me my out.
I should run, but like I said before, there’s something about Marcus I just can’t seem to walk away from.
And for me to run, that would b
e weak. I don’t consider myself weak. And I want what I want, and what I want is him. So, here I stand, in a place I never want to be, all because I want the man attached to the saw.
Marcus watches me, saw in hand and a smile tilting on his lips, and I cement myself to the spot.
“I’m glad it’s not white you’re wearing.”
And then he does the unthinkable—he starts cutting off the man’s hand. The minute I hear the saw slicing through flesh, I have to turn away. But the sound—fuck, I can still hear the sound.
It’s a sound like I’ve never experienced in my life. To describe the sound of flesh being torn apart, then the crack when it hits the bone, well, I have no words. I cringe and wish I had run, wish I was not a brave girl today, and didn’t want what I want.
My hands cover my ears, and I silently scream for that noise to stop. Turning, going toward the door, I reach for the handle but it’s locked. The sound penetrates my ears, and this time I do scream, but he doesn’t stop. Not even when I lean against the white door screaming a little bit louder to rid my ears of that sound. My screams intensify and drown out the sound of the flesh tearing apart.
When my throat becomes dry, I look back up.
Marcus has his mask off and a smile is playing on his lips. “I warned you, pretty girl.”
“Unlock the door,” I say, with more strength than I thought I could manage right at this moment.
“Don’t you want to fuck now, pretty girl?”
My head starts shaking. “No. Open the damn door.”
He smiles as if he’s won this round, and he did. I knew he was unlike anyone I have ever met. But this? This I do not understand.
Marcus removes his gloves, takes off his apron, and starts walking toward me. My back goes against the door as he gets closer. When he reaches me, that smile is still playing on his lips. He leans down and his lips connect with mine, hard, unforgiving, and breathtakingly spectacular. He tastes like peppermint and something else I can’t quite name. My body, which was tense, relaxes as his lips torture mine. Then as I go to reach for him to pull him even closer, that’s when I hear the click of a lock and the door is open behind me.
Marcus stands tall, smirks, and walks back to the body. I watch him, unsure of what just happened, and stand there shocked.
“You better leave before I remove the other hand, pretty girl,” he says, putting his apron, mask, and gloves back in place. I look up at him to see the saw in his grip. And just as he lowers it, I turn and leave.
Only looking back once to see him watching me exit.
That sinister smile never leaving his lips.
Chapter Five
Rochelle
To say I forgot all about Marcus over the next month would be a complete lie, but I have avoided driving near the crematorium as much as humanly possible, especially at night.
That kiss! That kiss will not leave my head. No matter how hard I try.
“Barbecue. Come on, Rochelle, get fucking dressed,” Tanika yells at me.
I flip her off and quickly get changed into a swimsuit and a cover dress. Tanika is waiting out the front in her car, the music blaring and head-bopping as if she’s a teenager, which makes me cringe. Car parties used to be our favorite thing, cranking the music and dancing around like idiots while the people next to us would simply stare. I outgrew it, Tanika never has.
“It’s late, should we really be going now?” It’s a Saturday night, and my plan after working all week was to do fuck all. Literally.
“You’ve been doing fuck all for ages. It’s been too long since I saw you. Live a little, girl. Plus, there are people I want you to meet tonight.”
“Oh no, who have you fallen in love with today?” I ask with a moan.
Tanika is a hopeless romantic. She puts the ‘L’ in love, even if her preferred victim at the time does not see it that way.
Tanika flicks her long, black hair behind her ear as we pull up at the lake. There’s a park and a few barbecue areas scattered around.
“Gosh, how many people are here, Tanika?” She switches the ignition off and smiles at me. “And why are there so many motorcycles?”
“Well, about that…” She doesn’t continue, just gets out of the car. I follow her, then walk around to meet her. Tanika’s eyes are set on where everyone is standing or sitting. The sun is starting to set, so I can’t see them clearly.
“Tanika.”
She bites her lip, then her eyes flick to me. “Just don’t judge, okay? But they are a biker gang.” She turns away from me, grabbing a bag and throwing it over her shoulder.
“A biker gang?” I hiss at her. She loves some stupid people, but this? Holy fuck. “What is their name?”
She starts walking, so I have to follow her. “Exile MC.”
I stop.
She stops.
She looks back at me. “What you hear about them isn’t all true, Rochelle. Please, give them a chance.”
“They’ve been under investigation for a month now. I know because I work for one of the lawyers who’s trying to prosecute them, Tanika.”
She waves her hand at me. “It won’t stick, you know that. Now, come on and have some fun with me.” Tanika grabs my hand and skips toward the music. I follow behind her, watching as we get closer, and their eyes turn toward us despite the music blaring. Somehow, they can still hear us or know we’re coming.
“Girl.” A man stands, walks over and picks Tanika up, and spins her around. He’s a large man, not in that he has a belly or anything, he’s simply large—larger than life. And by the looks of it, all fucking muscle. If he wasn’t smiling right now as he spins Tanika, I would be terrified.
“Snow, put her down,” a voice booms from behind him.
I look toward that sound and hear the man now known as Snow drop Tanika back to the ground.
He looks past her to me. “You brought a friend?” he asks, eyeing me with curiosity.
“Why, Snow?” I ask him straight up. He chuckles, and Tanika groans and covers her eyes. Before I know it, he reaches for his pants, undoing the zipper, and his dick is flopped out, white hair surrounding it. It’s quite an impressive dick.
“My birthmark makes my hair white. First woman I fucked called me Snow and it kind of stuck.” He puts his cock back in his pants and winks before throwing an arm around Tanika, leading her off to the group sitting at a picnic table.
Tanika bounces to the middle of the table. All the men are sitting around it, most of them in vests with their logo on the back and a name on the front. The one Tanika slides in next to reads ‘Blaze,’ then under that is ‘President.’ I don’t bother sitting, as the music is turned up, while Tanika leans down whispering in his ear. Blaze’s eyes lock on mine, and Tanika kisses his neck before she bounces her way over to me.
“Blaze doesn’t really like strangers,” she says. Looking back over her shoulder at him, she offers him a wave, then pulls off her dress and nods to mine. “Come on, let’s go for a swim.”
Looking back, his eyes are on me as I pull my slip off and turn away from him and those assessing eyes to walk to the water. The water is not clear these days. It used to be when I was child, but then flooding happened and it made our river dark in color.
“Why are you hanging with them?” I ask. Glancing back over my shoulder, they can’t hear us now, but they’re all at that same table, which is covered in drinks and God only knows what else.
I sit in the water, which comes up to my belly button, as Tanika swims farther out and turns back to look at me. “I met them out one night. I like him. But don’t want anything more than what he can give me. He’s…” She looks over at the table where Blaze is sitting with his dark hair and a slight scar on his eyebrow. He’s attractive, in the very dangerous kind of way. “He doesn’t do relationships anyway. And well, me, I need to stop doing them. Live a little as they say. So, Blaze, he’s fun and he gets me.”
“Does he, though?”
“Do I what?” That voice makes me y
elp. Blaze’s standing near me, his feet not quite in the water, but his eyes are now on Tanika as she floats with her tits out of the water, just barely covered by little triangular scraps of fabric.
“Rochelle is just worried for me,” Tanika says. There’s no shame in her voice at all, and she doesn’t stop floating or look our way.
“Is that right?” Blaze asks, not moving from where he stands.
I look up at him—the sun has fully set and the water’s warm—his dark and dangerous eyes are set on me.
Turning away from him, I look over at Tanika. “I need a drink, Tanika.” I stand.
“Blaze, are you coming in?” Tanika asks.
He watches me as I walk past him, and keep walking to where Tanika laid our bag down to search for my phone. Looking back, I watch as Blaze kicks his shoes off, followed by his vest—which he carefully places with great respect carefully on the sand. His back is covered in ink as he pushes into the water and goes straight to Tanika. I can hear her giggle from here.
“She talks non-stop about you. You must be all right, huh?” Snow stands next to me, his eyes dropping straight to my breasts. “I mean… you have a nice rack and all.” He winks.
I smile up at him. I like him. He’s easy to be around, not as tense as the rest. A little more playful in his mannerisms.
“I’m all right,” I say with a smile. He hands me a drink of beer and I take it with greedy hands.
“They…” I pause, thinking about what I want to ask and then nod out to Tanika. “How long has that been going on?” Snow looks down at me and smiles.
“Your girl not tell you everything?”
I look to the ground. “I’ve been, well… someone close to me died. I’ve not been with it lately.”
Snow’s face softens. “I’m sorry, girl.”
I shrug. Nothing can be done about it now. The pain is still there when I close my eyes, but it’s lessening, and I’m trying to work out how to live a life without them in it. Which is very unfair.
“They’ve been seeing each other for at least a month, but if you ask them, it’s just sex.” Snow chuckles. “Never seen prez so smitten before.”
