The Starkest Truth (A Breaking Insanity Novel Book 2)
Page 14
When I agreed to become Eric’s wife, I hoped things would maintain at the level they were or become better. Not only did I have the impression Eric faked the little changes I’d witnessed in him, he’d gotten worse. I was carefully led astray by Eric’s pretty words and the various talents hidden inside a body that made me climax intensely enough to make it feel as though I was on a completely different plane of existence.
I slipped out of bed and moved to the bathroom. I hoisted myself up on the counter and fiddled around with a specific spot above the medicine cabinet. The tile came loose, revealing my secret stash of medication. I took out a bottle of lithium and a shortened straw. I dispensed one pill and crushed it up on the counter with the bottom of the pill bottle. Leaning forward, I snorted it.
April made a noisy entrance into the bathroom and stared at my reflection in the mirror. “When I gave you that trick, I didn’t think you’d do it while you were pregnant, silly.”
I wiped my nose and glared at her. “You’re still here? He’s…letting you stay?”
She smiled brightly. “Can you believe it? He had somewhere to be, so it’s just you and me tonight.”
I couldn’t believe it. He always wanted me away from his exes. What was special about April? “Why is he letting you stay?”
“Because he knows you need a friend, and he knows I’m your bestie,” she responded.
I stared at her long enough to deplete her self-assuredness and reveal the truth. “Eric doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive. What did you promise him?”
“Bestie, he’s your husband,” she beamed. “You know he’d do anything for you.”
She was beginning to sound like the cheerleader she was at Parkland. “How do you know Eric?”
“He told you, right?” She batted her eyelashes me, an attempt to proclaim innocence. “We used to be friends.”
“Did you fuck him?”
“Nikki! No.”
“You’re a liar!” Stepping forward, I pointed my index finger at her. “You fucked him, and if you fuck him, he screws you up and screws you over.” At that moment, I recalled Estelle’s words. Saves, breaks, and remakes. Being there for me after my mother’s death was the save. The attempts to break me were numerous. His various lies, the loss of my dog and my aunt. The stay in Parkland where he cut off communication with me to punish me.
If he knew April, and if he had many connections, he had a way to get his letters to me. He wanted me to suffer. And when I came back to him, he remade me. He made me think killing my father was necessary and my guilt was unnecessary. He made me want the pleasure over the pain. He switched my desires on and off to suit his need to be a sadist and mine to be a masochist when I became comfortable with the pleasure. As I began to crave the pain much more, he distracted me with the most intense pleasure I’d ever felt.
I spent too much time trying not to be like his ex-wife, thinking things were different. As I looked down at my stomach and shook my head, I realized, maybe, I was delusional.
“What’s the matter?” April asked in a small voice. “Don’t do that. He loves you. You are one very lucky woman.” She put her arms around me. “Let’s just go out to dinner. You snorted lithium, right? Should be okay. Do you know any half-empty places around here we can go?”
I was beyond the realm of upset; I couldn’t look at her.
She flipped my hair over my shoulders and held my chin. “Don’t be upset. It’s not good for your little girl or boy.”
My eyes lifted to hers with a blinding coldness.
Her cell phone buzzed. She reached in her back pocket and pulled it out. “I have a friend who lives here,” she said, busily typing a message. “He said there’s a great Indian restaurant we should try. It’s a little secret, so there shouldn’t be too many people there. Let’s go there, okay? We’ll go, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“My husband doesn’t really love me,” I droned. “I have everything to worry about.”
“Nikki—”
I put my hand in her face and gazed at my reflection in the mirror, paying the most attention to my stomach. “Who is the friend who texted you? Is it someone we’re supposed to meet with? Or is it just another one of Eric’s disciples to keep me in line? To keep me dumb and blind.”
Shaking her head, she attempted to place her phone in the back pocket of her jeans. I came forward and grabbed her phone from her hands. She tried to retrieve it, but wasn’t swift enough.
The text on her phone, from Mr. Wilcox, contained the name of the restaurant—I assumed April spoke of earlier—and a time.
“Preston?” I asked her incredulously. “You’re speaking with Preston?”
Through rapid blinking, she unsuccessfully tried to simulate tears. “I can seriously explain.”
“You don’t need to. Leave.” Moving to the bedroom, I laid on the bed with my back to her.
I could hear April noisily sigh before sitting in front of me on the edge of the bed. “I met him at a party while he was attending the U of R. He was charming and sweet.” Sighing, she rubbed her eyes, smearing her mascara along the area underneath her eyes. “Don’t know what it is about him, but he has a serious skill. I’m not talking about the sex, but the way he can make you feel like no other person ever has. Like you’re the most important person in the world to him. When you live a life where you are the least important to everybody, it…can be easy to need it, you know?”
“And?” I urged hotly, upset she’d lied about fucking Eric.
“He…didn’t really want me. I kept trying to figure out why, but he kept thinking I was stalking him. One day I-I followed him somewhere I guess I wasn’t supposed to. He was meeting with someone. You know how you can look at someone and just know they are a deranged criminal? Well, the guy Eric met with was that. Definitely.
“When I asked Eric why he was with a man like that, he tried to shut me up. He told my parents I was crazy. He played on the things they thought weren’t right about me. He got his way. My parents sent me to Parkland because they trusted a stranger over their own daughter.
“And then you came around at Parkland, and he gave me a second chance. He told me if I made sure you stayed on the path he wanted you to, he would convince my parents to get me out and he would give me enough money to start over somewhere else.
“Preston came to visit me a few days before I was released. He promised me he would make sure Eric made good on his word if I did one thing for him. If once I got out, one of the first things I did was to make sure you and Preston met, but I’m not going to do that anymore. If you want me to leave, I’ll leave.”
I turned to glare at her from over my shoulder. “And the letters? Was my aunt responsible for having them blocked?”
She solemnly shook her head. “There weren’t any letters I knew about. I told you what he wanted me to say; his letters were returned. I don’t know if he really wrote any.”
The voice that was silenced by Eric, but increasingly vocal lately, seeped into my thoughts, filling my head with dirty truths. I held my head, taking elongated breaths in hopes it would remain dormant.
“Please, let me stay.” April slipped her hand into mine, taking it away from the side of my head.
Removing my hand from her hold, I turned my back on her. “Do what I asked you to do and leave.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice failing her.
Her slow and prodding footsteps gave me a headache. Sighing, I sat up slightly in bed. “Tomorrow. You can sleep here tonight, but tomorrow morning, I don’t want to see you here.”
Giddy, she jumped up and clapped your hands. “You know what I’m going to do for you bestie? I’m going to show you how grateful I am, and that I am your friend. I’m going to get you some food. I heard they have these things here called garbage plates.” She paused to stare at the ceiling. “I’ll get you one of those.” Turning with purpose she headed out of the bedroom.
Recalling that her car was parked down the street because
she ran out of gas, I asked, “April? How are you going to—”
“I’ll hitchhike,” she said, her voice fading down the hall. I looked at her phone, left on the nightstand, and buried myself underneath the covers.
MY NAP WAS FITFUL, and when I’d finally met the line between peaceful sleep and dreaming, I felt a pressure on the bed, pulling my legs to part and gape open.
“Eric,” I groaned my discontent, keeping my eyes closed. “Stop apologizing by using sex. You can’t…uh.” I felt his mouth on me through my panties. He kept himself buried underneath the sheets and staked his claim between my thighs. Frustrated, I clasped my hand to my head and let his deft and skilled tongue take me elsewhere. His slow, teasing licks against my moist lace panties made me squirm and twist for more. Leisurely, he pulled the crotch of my underwear to the side and the warmth of his wet tongue slid up my slit, opening me. Pulling me apart with his fingers, he shoved his tongue inside my canal. His nose nuzzled against my clit, sending me on an ascension to euphoria. I ground my hips against him, and reached up for the headboard, enjoying the ride.
His thick tongue slid up and began to circle my clit in dizzying circles. The feeling swept me dangerously fast, inundating my vision with blind spots.
“Oh, God, Eric!”
He moved his tongue down, thrusting it deep inside me and snaked his arm around my thigh to access my bundle of nerves. His thumb moved around in circles, pressing against the most responsive part. The sound of him smacking and enjoying the taste of my arousal drove me over the edge.
As he gripped my thighs, steadying me for the climb, something inside me began to burn painfully.
My body angled off the bed and every nerve-ending began to sing in unison. I bawled at the ceiling, allowing it to take control over every part of me.
Coming down from my high, I kept my eyes tightly closed, trying to hold to my rightful anger again. It was lost in him. He kissed my clit repeatedly, teasing me by slowly tracing the fissure of my sex up and down, over and over again.
I sat up on my elbows, blinking away the hazy cloud of sleep. I slid the sheet down my body, uncovering him. Focusing on the top of the head in between my legs, things came into focus.
When Preston looked up at me with a grin, I jolted backward, bumping into the headboard.
Grasping my legs harshly, he tugged me back underneath his body. He positioned himself between my legs and pressed his body against me. He pinned my arms up above his head, easily restraining me with one of his hands. I opened my mouth to scream and he easily ripped my soaked panties from my body and stuffed them inside my mouth.
Through the moonlit room, I could see the gleam of his bright white teeth. I felt the thump of his erection against my naked sex. He came completely into view, revealing his nudeness.
The fight I enacted suddenly became amplified.
“I need you to settle down, Nikki. I have to tell you something.”
With tears streaming down my cheeks, I slowly quieted down.
“You were as sweet as I thought you’d be.” Leaning forward, he kissed my parted lips, and clenched the material of the lace in my mouth, slowly removing it. He released them, letting them fall to the side of my head. “Don’t scream, because no one but you and I are here. If you make this hard for me, the things I warned you of will be serious issues for you. What do you think would happen with all I know, if you stopped being nice to me?” He brushed his fingertips down my cheek.
I jerked my head to avoid his touch.
“Nikki, you heard me, didn’t you? Keep being friendly. Anything I ask, you will do it.” He stared at me, continuously smiling. “Has it been a long time? You came quickly and very, very hard.”
My mouth gaped to scream, but he quickly covered it, muffling my screams for help. Outmatching my strength, he pushed me down on the bed and pinned my body to the mattress. He toyed with me, pressing his erection against my opening, entering me slightly and taking it away. “It doesn’t have to be this way. I can make you feel good, Nikki.”
My lungs began to feel as though they were filled with razorblades, making breathing near impossible. My fight was diminished only because it took too much to continue.
He slowly removed his hand from my mouth and hovered over me, keeping my hands restrained above my head. He cocked his head while donning a crooked smile. “You had to know it wasn’t Eric, and still, you enjoyed it quite a bit, didn’t you?” He leaned forward a touch more. “So did I. And you know what? You’re still very wet. Do you want me to fuck you, Nikki?”
I pushed whatever I was feeling aside and enacted my defense. My tears dried and my features narrowed. I no longer showed him how torn up I felt inside. “I don’t want to be friends with you, and I definitely don’t want to make you some semblance of an ‘on call cock.’ I’m very satisfied in that area…too satisfied. No, Preston. I don’t want you to fuck me. I want you to leave right now. If you do, maybe I won’t tell Eric about what you’ve done.”
His smile brightened, disarming me and frightening me at once. He brushed a hand down my cheek. I tried to move my head only to have him grab my jaw. “You killed your father, didn’t you, Nikki? There have been whispers, but no evidence turned up to convict you. Your mother was there when it happened, did you ever find out what happened to the evidence? Did she burn it? Did you see her dispose of it? What did she do with the evidence? Don’t you ever wonder? It could’ve ended up in the wrong hands. It could be used as leverage against you.”
“You’re lying!” I stated brusquely.
“You think so, Nikki? It was a starter log, wasn’t it? Where in the world could it possibly be?”
I swallowed back a loud sob and closed my eyes.
“I’m going to ask you a question again and I want you to answer yes.” He slid his hand from my jaw down my body, taking an agonizingly slow time to feel my breasts, my stomach, and my sex. Sliding two fingers down, he opened me, preparing me. “Do you want me to fuck you, Nikki?”
Sobbing and shaking, I shook my head.
Grabbing my labia, he began to pinch, digging his fingernails into the sensitive flesh. “Pain or pleasure? It’s completely your choice. Say yes and I’ll give you the latter. Say no again and I will wreck your body, your life, and your future with Eric.” He released his pinching grip and massaged the plump flesh. “Do want to fuck, Nikki?”
“Y-yes.” The words were jagged little edges, slicing up my throat and bringing about an emotional pain deeply cutting.
He flexed his hips and shoved himself completely inside of me.
I yelped and fought, wanting him off me and out of me immediately; it was an intrusion I wanted to purge.
“Easy,” he whispered. “I showed you how good things can feel when you’re compliant. Behave.”
“Why do this? When I tell Eric what you’ve done, he will kill you. Why do this?”
“Tell, and he will know everything I know about you. He won’t be the only one I give information to, either.”
“I can’t help what Eric will find out. He. Will. Kill. You.”
“He can’t.” He withdrew and lifted partially up from my body to look between us. I could feel him throb at my opening, nearly pushing himself back inside with little to no movement. “I know too much about him, and we have a mutual associate. Something Eric will never do is piss off the man who made him.”
“Are you talking about Victor?” On the cusp of saying Victor’s name, my body had a visceral reaction.
As Preston studied me with heightened interest, he gave me a nod. His heavy-lidded eyes widened, failing to suppress his shock over the information I knew. “Never thought Eric would share his connection to Victor with you.”
I glanced between us, mentally hoping and willing he would gather his sense and leave. My mind screamed at me to fight, but my body couldn’t connect and do what needed to be done. It was taking everything in me not to fall prey to a panic attack and allow myself to be completely vulnerable. “It wasn’t
exactly by his choice.”
“None of it matters. You gave me permission to do this, remember?”
“What do you really want from me?” I asked hoarsely.
“From the time I saw you watching me with Estelle, I’ve wanted very badly to fuck you. I’ve grown tired of waiting for Eric to share, as he once did. Tonight, I’m taking what I want, and I want you.”
I WAS IN the middle of talking to a car-crash survivor about aftercare following an accident that gave her a concussion and a broken arm. She was a drunk driver who killed a mother and her infant daughter. When she left here, she was leaving in handcuffs. It was a shame she survived. Normally, I couldn’t care less, but I draw the line at killing kids. It’s a sad fact: the wicked are too fucking mean to die.
One of the hardest moments of my job was dealing with people like this. It’s not because of the Hippocratic Oath, which I barely remember, nor have I ever recited it. Honestly, it was just a long series of paragraphs on the back of my graduation program; it’s more or less the hospital’s policies that bind doctors.
We have to treat everyone whether we like it or not. It’s a funny contradiction, how-fucking-ever, I’d never kill the helpless. The people I killed deserved it, or wanted it. And those that deserved it were never innocents.
My phone buzzed against my ass. Thinking it might’ve been Nikki, I checked it like my life depended on it. April hadn’t checked in with me all day. Not a good sign when time was my least greatest resource.
It was a text from Preston. I clicked on the picture, and my blood ignited. Her clothes were disheveled, and her eyes were closed. Her legs were spread, exposing her bare pussy, and there was something that looked like cum on her inner thigh. The text underneath the picture read:
I got to fuck your wife after all.
Having trouble swallowing, I put the phone back in my pocket. Muffled sounds called my attention. I looked up at my patient. She was slurring something I could barely understand and tried to get up; the handcuff on her wrist, attached to the bed, stopped her. I think she said something about me being an asshole and something else about my mother.