Denied

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Denied Page 4

by Marissa Farrar


  The sight and the pain slicing through his hand was a welcome distraction from the ache in his heart.

  Four

  Lily hammered her fist against the door, hard enough to hurt. The number 20 in a gold embossed figure was attached to the center of the wood, but it lost part of its nail as she banged and slipped so it hung crooked.

  “Hey!” she yelled. “Get out here.”

  Her anger toward her interfering neighbor had built with every step she’d taken toward home. If he hadn’t called the cops ahead of her, they would never have heard the story about her having trouble with a bad boyfriend and would have taken her story more seriously. He should have stayed out of her business instead of sticking his nose in where it wasn’t wanted.

  She didn’t hear anything, so she banged again.

  “Come on, you son of a bitch! Face me!”

  Maybe she was taking her anger out on the wrong man, blaming him for what had happened when he was only a tiny piece of the jigsaw, but right now he was the only one available.

  Footsteps approached from inside and the door swung open. His hair was wet, long and dripping in his face, and a towel was wrapped around his waist. She tried not to notice the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, or the way a dark line of hair ran from his navel and disappeared beneath the towel.

  His eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, it’s you.”

  No, she would not let herself be distracted by a good body again. She had something to say, and she was going to say it.

  “What the fuck do you think you were playing at by reporting me to the cops?”

  His eyebrows drew down in apparent confusion. “Huh?”

  “You called the cops and told them I was back, and that I had gone off with some thug of a boyfriend who had smashed up my apartment.”

  “I thought you were in trouble.”

  “Well, I wasn’t, and I don’t need some stranger interfering in my business.”

  “Okay,” he said, placing his hand against the doorframe. She wished he’d put on a shirt. “First of all, we’re hardly strangers. We’ve lived in the same building for three years now, and even if you don’t take much notice of anyone around you, I do. I know your name, and I know what you do for a living. I even know you like Chinese food on a Saturday night.”

  “Sounds more like you’re a stalker to me,” she muttered, but she could feel her cheeks growing red. “Anyway, you might only know all this from the newspaper.”

  He shook his head. “No, I’m a normal guy who notices the world around him, including the pretty woman from down the hall, despite the fact she doesn’t seem to notice much about anything except going to work.”

  “I notice stuff!”

  “I bet you don’t even know my name.”

  He had her on that one.

  “It’s Cameron Hastings, by the way.”

  “I knew that,” she muttered, but didn’t meet his eye.

  “And secondly,” he continued, “I thought you were in trouble and I wanted to help. Are you saying the next time I think a woman is being hurt, I should just turn a blind eye? If a guy is beating up his girlfriend in the street, I should keep walking?”

  “No!” she exclaimed. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

  His eyebrows lifted. “Are you sure? Because I thought you were that woman, and I was trying to do the right thing.”

  She exhaled a sigh, her shoulders dropping, her anger deflating. “You’re right and I’m sorry. I was just angry because I didn’t tell you the truth when you came to my door, and then you passed on that lie to the cops. I went to see them myself, but because of what you’d already told them, they didn’t want to believe the truth.”

  His forehead creased in concern, a line appearing between his eyes. “Look, do you want to come in for a moment? This doesn’t feel like the sort of conversation we should be having standing in the hall.”

  She lifted her hands in defense and took a step back. “Oh, no, it’s fine. I obviously interrupted you, anyway. Please, just forget I said anything.”

  “No. Come in, please. I’ll make you coffee. And I’ll put some clothes on, I promise.” A hint of a grin appeared at the corners of his lips. She didn’t even have any milk in her apartment—or if she did, it was a month old by now. The idea of coffee did sound good.

  “Okay,” she relented. “As long as you get dressed.”

  He laughed. “I will, I swear.”

  Cameron stepped away from his front door, heading into his apartment. Cautiously, she followed, pushing the door closed behind her.

  “Just give me a minute,” he called out as he walked toward another room—his bedroom, she assumed. “Make yourself at home.”

  Lily looked around at his apartment curiously. It was comfortable, homely. A brown leather couch that appeared to be well loved, the material cracked, was strewn with cushions and throws. Books piled on shelves reminded her of Monster, and her heart clenched. Numerous photographs of Cameron with groups of friends were positioned on the tops of the bookcases. She spotted one of him with a blonde girl, his arm casually looped over her shoulder. Was that his girlfriend? Did he even live alone? For some reason, she’d assumed he did, but she could be wrong. She hoped he did—not for any romantic reason, of course she wasn’t interested like that, but because she didn’t want to explain to anyone else what had happened.

  Cameron reappeared dressed in jeans and a long sleeved, v-neck t-shirt. He headed into the kitchen, and she heard the hiss of a kettle starting to boil.

  “How do you take your coffee?” he called out to her.

  “Black with sugar, thanks.”

  The rich aroma of the coffee propelled her into the memory of being rewarded with espresso after she’d first treated Monster’s face. The recollection caused her eyes to fill with tears, a painful lump lodging in her throat.

  A hand touched her knee, and she jerked away from the contact, an old familiar feeling of discomfort and awkwardness settling inside her. She’d been so lost in her memory, she hadn’t noticed Cameron setting down the carafe of coffee on the table.

  “Hey, are you okay?”

  She nodded and wiped her face with the back of her hand. “Yes. No. I don’t know. I’ve been through a lot, and I guess I just haven’t had time to process it all yet.”

  “You want to tell me the truth now?”

  To her horror, she realized the idea of telling this man she’d been taken by sex traffickers humiliated her. Would he think she had been forced to be a prostitute, that she’d been forced to have sex with numerous men?

  “I was abducted,” she said, carefully. “They were traffickers, but they didn’t want me for the sex trade. They wanted me to work for a man who had a large port wine birthmark down one side of his face.”

  “Because you’re a laser therapist.”

  She quickly looked up at him frowning. “How did you know that?”

  He shrugged apologetically. “I told you. We’ve lived down the hall from one another for three years now. Plus, it was in the papers.”

  She gave her head a slight shake. “Oh, of course.” Lily gathered her thoughts and continued. “The man they took me for was a criminal, and he didn’t want to go out into the regular world for treatment, so he paid these men to take me.”

  “This man, he let you come home again?”

  She nodded. “Yes, he treated me well enough.” She tried not to think about the days on end she’d spent in solitary confinement, hungry and afraid, or the days following when she’d spent most of the time in bed with him, or with him fucking her on the kitchen counter, the floor, the stairs ... “But the men who took me initially were bad guys. They had other women—girls, really. They hurt them and were selling them for the sex trade. The thing is, I don’t think they thought I would be coming home, and if they find out, they’re going to come after me.”

  “Holy shit.”

  “Yeah, you can say that again. They took my purse, so they know where I live, an
d they know I can give descriptions of them and their business.”

  “You think they’ll track you down?”

  “I’m sure of it. And because of the call you made to the police, they’re not doing anything to try to protect me.”

  He looked down at the ground and shook his head. “Hell, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I was only trying to help, I swear it. If there’s anything I can do …”

  “I do need your help,” she admitted. To delay what she was about to say, she picked up her cup and took a sip of the hot coffee. “I need a gun.”

  Five

  Cameron sat back and ran a hand through his damp hair.

  “What do you need a gun for?”

  “What do you think? Protection. The men who took me know where I live. I’m not going to feel safe in my apartment without one, and after what you told the police, they’re not going to offer me any protection either.”

  “Why not go down the usual routes? Apply for one. I assume you’re not a felon, so there’s no reason you wouldn’t get a permit.”

  She shook her head. “It’s not fast enough. I need one now, or by tonight, at least.”

  He stared at her, and she knew he was considering things. If he had a decision to make, it meant he at least knew where he could get hold of a weapon.

  “Do you have money?” he asked.

  “Yes, plenty. I just need to get down to the bank and make a withdrawal.” She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “Does that mean you’re going to help me?”

  “I might know a guy. I’m still in touch with him from college. He was always into some suspect shit, and I reckon he’d know where to get a weapon.”

  “Please, just call this guy for me and ask,” she said. “You owe me.”

  He sighed and sat back.

  She drank the too-hot coffee, anxiously awaiting his answer.

  “Okay,” he said eventually. “Give me an hour. Let me make some calls and I’ll come and knock on your door when I hear something.”

  Lily smiled, unsure if she should be happy about the news, or sick with nerves at what she was contemplating. “Thank you,” she said, rising from the couch. “It really will help make me feel safer.”

  “And get some more locks for your front door. Big ones.”

  She smiled again, though the expression felt tight. She didn’t like that she was using this guy to get what she needed, but there was no room in her heart for compassion. She needed to be tough, brutal. If she showed weakness, it would be the end of her.

  Lily left his apartment. The strange sensation someone was watching her clutched at her again, but when she looked down the hall, the space was empty. Suddenly spooked, every hair on her body rising to attention, she raced down the hall to her own apartment. With her breath heaving, she slammed her way into her place and shut the door behind her, clicking the lock into position. She leaned against the door, trying to hold back her tears. She needed to be tough, but deep down she was hurt and frightened.

  “Why are you making me do this alone?” she said out loud, though she knew he couldn’t hear her. “You did this to me, Monster. You brought these men into my life and then you abandoned me. Those aren’t the actions of someone who loves another person. They’re the actions of a fucking coward!”

  She didn’t even want to be in her apartment, feeling like a trespasser in her own home, but exhaustion swept over her and she managed to stumble her way to the couch. Collapsing into the soft cushions, she huddled into the fetal position and tucked her hands beneath her head. The faint whiff of vomit and cleaning fluid still tainted the air, but she’d slept in worse.

  Exhaustion claimed her and she fell into a deep, fathomless sleep.

  ***

  He was with her on the couch, his large body pressing hard against hers as she clutched at his back. His presence surrounded her, encasing her in a bubble where she could think of nothing but him.

  Lily squirmed, the familiar heat condensing between her thighs, begging to be built higher until she toppled over the brink. How strange to both desperately reach toward the final culmination, and yet never want the journey to end.

  “Monster, please,” she moaned, pressing her face against his shoulder.

  His hand roughly pushed between their bodies, delving between her thighs.

  She wanted to lift her head from his shoulder, to look into his face, and yet somehow she couldn’t. Her head felt as though it was made from lead, and however hard she tried, she couldn’t move it. The sensation reminded her of something, of another time she’d been unable to get a part of her body to work. Alarm flitted through her, but she pushed it away, not wanting to think about it. Instead, she wanted to lose herself in the pressure of Monster’s fingers pushing against her mound, seeking their way inside her. That was what she needed, what she wanted. Somehow, she felt as though if she found her brink, everything would be all right again.

  Nothing’s wrong, whispered the distant part of her mind. Monster’s here with you, making love to you. Everything is just right.

  Yet, it wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t.

  She was wet and slippery between her thighs. Monster’s fingers glided between her folds and entered her, stretching her pillowed walls. His digits pushed deep and hard inside her and she bucked, her back arching. She let out a groan and bit his shoulder, her teeth and tongue meeting with the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

  T-shirt? Why was he wearing a t-shirt? Other than when he was naked, she’d never seen him out of a suit.

  With his middle and index fingers pushing into her pussy, his little finger and ring finger moved lower. His fingers brushed the star of her anus and she gave a small cry. He said nothing to reassure her, seeming to know what her body wanted even more than she did. Using the lubrication he’d already coaxed from her, his little finger pressed against her asshole, until he breached her ring and pushed inside.

  She felt a slight sting, but the pleasure that instantly shot through her body far outweighed any discomfort. She pressed down on his hand, wanting more, and he gave it to her. Pushing his ring finger inside her anus, she was impaled on his hand, two fingers in her cunt, two in her ass. She would come within seconds, she knew she would. Already she felt wild with desperation to reach that point, and she lifted her hips, rocking against his hand as he pushed with an almost angry force. With each thrust of his hand inside her, he let out a grunt, as though finger-fucking her anally and vaginally was some kind of punishment for her.

  Lily didn’t even care. Her orgasm took hold, every muscle in her core contracting and pulsing as she came, hard. Her eyes squeezed shut, her eyeballs rolling in her head as the pleasure exploded through her. It felt like it would never end, wave after wave as her inner muscles rode his fingers.

  Then finally it did ebb away, leaving her gasping.

  “Oh, my God,” she said, finally able to lift her head from his shoulder.

  Only it wasn’t Monster staring at her with his intense dark eyes, but her neighbor, Cameron.

  He grinned down at her. “I told you I knew all about you,” he said, his fingers still embedded inside her …

  Six

  Lily burst from the dream in a flurry of movement, her heart racing. She was confused and disoriented. Where was she? Shouldn’t she be in Monster’s bed? But then it all came back to her in a rush, and she suddenly felt sick. She’d orgasmed in her sleep, and could still feel the afterglow, while being horrified about what she’d dreamed.

  She didn’t want to betray Monster, but did they still have a relationship? She was crazy to even be thinking about it after what he’d done, yet she couldn’t just switch her heart off like that. He was one of a kind. She’d never meet someone like him again, and her soul ached for him, even as her heart was broken.

  Knocking sounded at the door, snatching her attention.

  Sitting up, she pushed her hair from her face. She was surprised to find her cheeks wet. She’d been crying in her sleep as well as coming. Lily got to her
feet and walked to the door to open it. Cameron stood in the open doorway, and the memory of her dream rushed back to her, making her face hot.

  “Everything okay?” he asked her.

  She nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I just woke up. Come in.”

  She stepped back to allow him into the apartment and then shut the door behind him. “Have you got any news for me?” she said, sitting back down on the couch.

  He took a seat opposite and pushed a hand through his hair. “The guy I know wants to meet you before he’ll sell to you.”

  “What? Why?”

  “I guess he wants to know who his customers are so he can track them down should anything go wrong.”

  “Great,” she muttered. “What’s he like?”

  Cameron shrugged. “He sells drugs and weapons for a living. What do you think he’s like?”

  “Okay, point made. When do we go?”

  “How does now sound?”

  It wasn’t as though she had a busy schedule. “Sure.”

  Lily would normally have grabbed her purse about now, but she didn’t have one. She felt unhinged, untethered, as though she no longer had a real place in the world.

  She remembered something. If she was going to the bank, she would need some identification.

  “Just give me a minute,” she told Cameron, as she headed into her bedroom to find her passport. It was something she’d never needed to use, and that she’d only gotten on a whim one day, but now she was glad she had it. Ironically, she hadn’t needed it to travel to a different country, but she’d need it to take money out of her account now she had no bank card.

 

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