He runs his hand through his hair before he confesses the next part. And it’s a doozy. “I’ve done bad things where you concerned already.”
“The drugs, you mean?”
“That and other things. Things that make me feel like I’m not ready to be around you yet, even now.” He’s staring at the blank TV screen across the room.
“What things, Javi? Can you tell me?”
He sighs. Keeping his eyes averted, he whispers, “I bought a cabin in the woods. It’s isolated. No one would know our business, what we do in that cabin. I was going to take you there the day I gave you the drugs, but when I couldn’t wake you, I got so worried-more worried for your well-being than my need to have you to myself-that I had to tell the bosses what I’d done. They intervened. I scared myself so bad I checked into the psych facility once I left you.”
My mouth is dry, so I whisper back, “What would we have done there?”
He closes his eyes, lowering his head in shame. “We would’ve fattened you up.”
It’s a lot to take in, and my tired mind can’t handle any more. My whole body begins to shut down. One minute I’m lying on my would-be kidnapper’s chest, listening to him breathe, and the next, I’m snoring.
When I wake, it’s bright outside and I’m alone. I don’t need to search the room, I know in my heart he’s gone. A white bag sits on the nightstand. The two jelly donuts inside bring tears to my eyes. There’s coffee and a chocolate milk on the table as well. Along with a note.
Bonita,
I’d like to say I’ve changed, that I’m not the person who wants to keep you locked in your body as my prisoner. I cannot. You are the first to know the extent of my depravity. It seems fitting since you’re the first person I’ve ever loved. I know now that you need to live your life, and I need to fix mine or our paths will never cross again. I cannot live as a danger to you and believe me…I am. Make no mistake, as I lay here gazing upon your beautiful form, it is taking all of my willpower not to wrap you up, throw you in the trunk and head to our love nest in the hills. Things were done to me, vile things that live within me still. If I could cut them out and be whole, I would do that for you. Please stay at my house. Let Sasha and Gretchen care for you, like they’ve cared for me. I will be getting better, and when I’m ready to keep myself under control—I can’t say when the urges are gone, for I fear they’ll never leave me—but when I know I can control myself around you, I’ll be back. As you can see, I commit myself of my own free will. I am safe, and you are safe. That’s all that matters to me –Javi
Crying in my donuts, I eat as I usually do when things go wrong for me. My mother didn’t believe I was being abused by her kiddie-fiddling preacher husband? Gain forty pounds, make myself so unattractive he leaves me alone. Kids at school teasing me about my lard-ass? Pack on another twenty pounds. That will show them. Invited to stand for yet another acquaintance as a bridesmaid while everyone around me is getting married? Pack on another thirty. My stalker/boyfriend/houseboy commits himself to keep me safe…keep shoveling it in.
After an hour of this, I realize I need a shoulder to cry on, and let’s face it, there’s nothing to eat in this damn room. I call Sasha and stop crying long enough to ask her to come and bring burgers. The ladies are here within the hour and spirit me and Javi’s truck back to the house.
I don’t know what to feel at this point, and frankly, his intensity scares the shit outta me. Must he be locked in an insane asylum for me to be safe?
“Your room’s been filled with all your new clothes, Blue!” Gretchen says, she just wants to make me feel better, I know, so I give her a pained, somewhat forced smile. “Oh, Blue, you can do better than that…c’mon! Let’s open your mail!” Gretchen’s forced smile matches my own.
I still want him and no amount of trinkets and toys are going to fill my Javi void.
Chapter 32
I know both of the bosses are sick of my funk. Hell, I’m sick of myself. It’s been a week. A week of me pining for the man I barely know, yet seem to feel I can’t live without. He won’t talk to me. I’ve tried. He won’t come to the phone when I call and he’s put himself on the no visitors list. I’ve been cut off, cold turkey, and feel like my Javi withdrawals are slowly killing me.
All I want to do is hibernate under the covers, but the Wonder Twins have other plans. “Where are you taking me?” I ask Sasha’s back. She doesn’t answer, just keeps pulling me along by my arm. Dragging me through a locked door and down a hall I’ve never seen before.
“We’ve been talking.” Gretchen looks over my head and gives Sasha one of her famed secret looks. “And we’ve figured something out. You haven’t met all of your neighbors. You’ve never met the sixth girl.”
Funny, I hadn’t thought about her since they had mentioned there were six of us.
“I thought it was just—”
“That’s what everyone thinks.” Sasha cuts me off, never breaking stride.
We continue down the hall to a closed door. A woman in nurse’ scrubs sits outside. She motions us in. We come face to face with an impressively obese woman. She’s suspended off the bed, sitting in a massive body swing. Her face and make-up are flawless. Everything else, naked but hidden under her folds. Piercing glacier blue eyes stare out from her bloated face. Looking first to the bosses and then to me, she assesses then dismisses me, her attention returning to a plate of chocolate cake on her lap.
Beside her bed, mounds of assorted junk food are stacked high. Her prop.
The lights blink green in her room.
I nod to her.
“Blue,” Sasha says, without her usual sass. “I’d like you to meet Javi’s mother.”
(I’m not a fan of the Epilogue. Instead I give you….)
The Javilogue
I pull into the strip mall after gassing up the Suburban. It’s the first of the month, time to get the mail. It’s more of the same, taking care of the ladies, and I go about my day on autopilot. I pull in, pissed about the amount of cars in the lot. Packed in like sardines, I have to circle around twice before finding a spot big enough for the truck, on the edge of the lot, next to a beat to shit Sentra. I wonder to myself if it’s been abandoned after a joyride, as I guide the truck in next to it. The color is hidden under a grimy coating of dirt, there’s cardboard taped to the back passenger window, Bondo spots on the doors, in other words, it’s a real shitbox. I turn off the engine, reach over to my knapsack on the passenger’s seat for the keys to the safety deposit boxes, but my hand freezes in midair. I see her, a vision from my dreams come to life.
My heart misses a beat as I watch her feed. It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Instinctively, I scoot down in my seat, low enough to watch and not be seen. A voluptuous, raven haired beauty, quietly shoving junk food in to her mouth-cheeks impossibly full,-sits behind the wheel of the abused Sentra. All business, her eyes never leave her lap, as she methodically stuffs more in. I watch her finish a Twinkie in two bites, her delicate pinky wiping cream from the corner of her mouth. She does nothing about the glistening tears that streak down her cheeks.
My monkey twitches in my pants at the sight before me. This is a damsel in distress that needs me. My tender loving care.
It’s pornographic the way she works through her stash of food. My hand moves down to my dick, which is painfully hard and pressing into my button fly. The sight of her profile has my balls aching. I’ve performed every dirty thing the ladies need done to complete their Favors, yet this is the first time I’ve wanted something dirty of my own. My eyes peek at her over the bottom of the passenger window.
Chips- Funyuns, are meticulously shoved into her mouth. Chewing slowly, a wounded expression passes over her face. She’s ashamed. A feeling I know all too well.
My hand strokes my shaft, but it’s not enough. A quick peek around the parking lot, and I realize we’re alone. There are others here, parking and heading into the Woman’s club, but they’re far away, closer to the buildings
. Only she and I are here, her eating her shame, and me relishing in it. My hands work at loosening my belt buckle.
I might get caught, but who gives a fuck? I lift my narrow hips and slide the worn jeans down just enough to free myself. My engorged cock feels like it might bust, a rare treat for me, I feel drunk with desire. Spitting into my hand proves difficult, my mouth is desert dry, all the liquid in my body is pulsing to my cock. I give in to the lust, stroking my long thick shaft, dry, all the while taking her in.
Bite after bite of a king sized Snickers disappears into her mouth. My balls crawl up in my sac at the sight. I’ve got something king sized for you, Bonita.
Her head is down, she’s concentrating on the task at hand. All I want, more than anything is for her to lift up her face, gaze into my lust filled eyes, and give me a glimpse of those beautiful tears. I moan, under my breath, feeling close to relief. My hand strokes faster, as I imagine the wetness of her fat cunt drowning me, milking the ache from me. My eyes want to close, but I fight to keep them open, cataloging each and every chew.
Reaching down, fumbling in a bag next to her, her hand raises to her luscious lips, holding a dripping Drumstick. I want to fuck her pussy with that melting ice cream cone, then eat every piece of it. Coring her out with my tongue until every sticky drop is gone. As her head tilts, licking the drips from the side, I catch a glimpse, just a peek of the pink tongue as it drags along the side of the sugar cone and it is my undoing.
I cum, hard, spurting streams of white, ropy semen onto my steering wheel which drips onto my hard thighs. The contrast of the white liquid on my dark skin, only makes me think of her creamy thighs wrapped around me. My dick starts to get hard again. The danger of being out in the open, fondling myself while watching this Bonita eat an ice cream cone, and maybe getting caught, only adds to my underused libido.
I reach into the back of the Suburban, feeling for a towel, or something to clean up my mess, my eyes never leaving her. Adrenaline races through me as I watch her devour the cone, check herself in the mirror, and get out of the car. Standing next to my passenger window, all she’d have to do is turn a little to the left, and I’d be caught. Dick in my hand, literally. Fear grips my belly. I could be in jail in the next hour if she turns her head in the slightest.
I freeze, trying not to breath. Wanting her but not wanting her to see me like this. Meet me like this. Because we will meet. Of that I am sure.
A round of applause….
To all the readers that pick this book up, I hope you find something that brings a smile to your face, or makes you hot down below within my pages. Or maybe a little of both! Thank you for giving me your time and joining me in my imaginary world! Without you, I’d still be instant messaging snippets of my story to my two best book buddies! Thayra aka T.A. Roth, (world renowned author) you encouraged me to pursue my dream and make my imaginary book a reality. You were the first to say, “It’s a real book, not imaginary Dork!” and I love you for it! I never would have done this without you telling me I could and pushing my ass to do it. Thanks for staying up late and listening with patience to every title change, hair-brained story plot, and just your general time. Virginia, you laugh at all my jokes, listen to all my crazy stories, and just make everything fun! You’re my backseat bitch, Ruca!
For my beta readers, Michelle Webster-Tomeck, (Jimmy’s bartender) who found the three shoes. Shelbi Roth, who tore it apart but always took the story seriously. The feedback you both gave me was incredibly helpful to move the story along. You both took the task of reading a crazy story, in its roughest form and giving me your time and honest feedback. You were my first readers! I can’t thank you enough.
For my family, Jimmy the best husband anyone could ask for. You always encourage me to do me! You’re my biggest cheerleader. Thanks for not complaining when the dishes didn’t get done, when dinner was takeout, and when I sat outside in the cold working away on my book into the early morning hours. I love you best friend and soulmate. You’re not only Chapter 3, you’re my Javi!
My beautiful daughter Breanna, who’s my toughest critic and the person I work so hard to please. My son, Anthony, the strong, silent type. Thanks for always asking how my book was coming along, it kept me on point. I love you both so much, and if I’ve made you proud, than all the late nights were worth it!
Mom, I love you!
Steve, Sam, and Tony, Thanks for listening to me go on and on about my story. I love you guys! You never judge me, and always support me in whatever new adventure I get myself into.
My favorite nephew Markey, always gets the party started. Not much writing gets done when you’re around…but I wouldn’t have it any other way!
Finally, the Great Pepper Winters! Whose books showed me that not every story has to be a HEA. Some of us like it dark.
A Sneak Peak into Javi’s World
I walk through the front doors with one goal in mind, get sane. Be the man she deserves. Not some halfcocked psychopath that will hurt her the first chance he gets. Shit went too far too fast. I’ve gotta earn the right to be by my Bonita’s side. I’m greeted by the day nurse, a starved blonde in a nurse’s uniform who greets me at the front desk. The same wicked smile she’s worn in the past spreads her lips now. This show is set on repeat, and all I want to do is turn it off.
“Mr. Gustavez,” she nods in my direction. “Are you gracing us with a visit, or will you be staying this time.” I catch the condescending tone. I’m the rich asshole patient that comes and goes as he pleases. I get it. I also pay your salary, mujer.
I stop in front of her desk, mindful of the other zombies milling about in pajamas, high on tranqs. “Oh, I’m staying. In fact, lock the door and throw away the key.” Stepping in the elevator, I head to my room. I know the way.
About the Author
Angela Brashears is a mother, dog lover, and Registered Nurse. She enjoys her job as an ER nurse, in a busy LA County hospital but has always wanted to write. She lives and works in Southern California, with her husband and kids. She enjoys hiking with her dogs, woodworking, crocheting and reading. Go Patriots!
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
The Javilogue
A round of applause….
A Sneak Peak into Javi’s World
About the Author
Becoming Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. #1) Page 19
