“Suck it, Harley.” He pulled my hair, forcing me to unsheathe my teeth and apply gentle pressure to the tip of his cock. “Suck it, just like Lissy does.”
Lissy. My best friend. The blonde-haired, blue-eyed princess who fucked my boyfriend while I was out making coffees and earning the pennies to fund us. Michael thought he was keeping his secret, but I’d known for ages. Of course I’d known; even when I was out of my head, he was inside it. I’d caught them on the sofa last week. She was bent over the back facing the front door they knew I’d walk through. He was behind her, his forearm across her chest as he pounded into her from behind and kept them both facing the door while they waited for me. I wanted to bite his fucking dick off as the memories of them together filled my mind. But then I wouldn’t get what I needed.
“Oh, shit.” Michael growled and I extended my tongue, opening up for his cum to jet into my mouth. “That’s it, my Harley Queen.”
Harley Queen. Dumb fuck had no idea it was Harley Quinn, and she was no sweet little woman. Oh, no. She was a villain, she could hold her own, and she fucked the bad guy so good, all the good guys wished they were bad.
Rolling my eyes, I sat up and held out my hand.
“Payment made.”
“Oh, baby.” He cooed at me. I hated it when he cooed at me like I was a vulnerable infant. I hated it because I played to it. I hated it because every time he called me baby, I nuzzled into his hand, purred like a damn cat and wished he’d hold me and tell me he loved me. “Don’t be in such a hurry.”
I was in a hurry. I was in a massive hurry. I could hear my heart beating in my ears and the rapid heavy flurry had nothing to do with the orgasm I’d just faked. My hands were shaking, sweat pooled at the bottom of my neck, across my forehead and down my temples, and my eyes darted from side to side. I knew the effects of going so long were beginning to take over and I needed to make them go away. I needed to numb the pain and forget who I was again. I could never go back to remembering because then I would remember I had failed and Daddy had told me it was never okay to fail. But that was before he’d failed for the last time and the man with the leather gloves came for him.
“Here you go, darling,” he muttered. “Make the memories go away.”
See, at times like this, Michael was my hero. He knew what I needed. He’d always known what I needed. He’d been there during my first year of university, and he’d been there the day my parents died. He’d walked me home from campus, I’d waved him goodbye at the door knowing he was going to rugby training and I’d see him later…five minutes later, I was an orphan, having watched the murderer flee the scene with nothing more than a bloody glove sliding around the doorframe before he escaped out of the back door. I began shaking, remembering the blood. The bodies of my mother, father and baby brother laid out on the living room floor like a barcode, complete with white sheets between the black ones they were wrapped in.
“Harley…” Michael dragged me back from the day I’d lost everything, and tossed the little clear packet onto my lap. “Take it and come back to bed.”
He pulled the bedsheet up to over his softening cock and turned onto his side to pour the delicate white powder out in a thin line. I licked my lips, salivating as he took the rolled up note he’d used earlier and snorted the cocaine. Swallowing hard, I squeezed the bag in my fist and crawled up the bed to the cabinet on the side where I slept. Michael’s hot hands caressed my bare back as I set up my own line, and he dragged the twenty-pound note up over the crack of my arse, along my spine and over my shoulder into my waiting hand. I wasn’t ashamed when I leaned lower—face down, arse up was the best way to be, he said—and took a sharp draw in, feeling the powdery substance fill my nostril, leaving a numbing trail down the back of my throat as it made its way to my head and into my blood.
“That’s my girl,” Michael said, dragging my languid body to lie on my back next to him. I saw him squeeze my breast, but I was unaware of everything else he did as I allowed my mind to float away on a cloud. “Switch it all off, baby.”
Switch it off.
I nodded, letting my eyes roll back as he pulled the sheet up over my legs and then over his head. He moved lower, parting my legs and reminding me exactly why I complied to his demands.
Present Day
“Have you called the old bill?” Benny asked, walking in with a cardboard holder filled with coffee cups. Cappuccinos for us, and a small warm milk for Plum.
“Absolutely not,” I said, taking a cup out of the holder and trying to force a smile for him.
I knew Benny would blame himself. I knew he would think it was his fault Michael had been able to get back into my life but, the truth was, he would always have a way, because he had my life on a key around his neck. He’d used Benny, exploited his lack of expertise and I’d played right into his hands. The rest had been easy.
“Why not?”
“Ben-” Evan warned, taking his own coffee and taking the lid off Plum’s.
“It’s okay,” I said. “The police can’t help me here. Sure, they’ll open up a case and investigate a home invasion, but nothing was taken. And you really think the police would just take a glance over my kit and shrug it off?”
“So why did he come in if…” The constant smile Ben always wore dropped and his deep green eyes filled with fear. For me. It was something I wasn’t used to, and something I refused to feel for myself. “He left something behind.”
“Yes.”
“And you can’t show the police.”
“No.”
“So it’s not the kind of gift you had on your Christmas list.”
“Bingo!” I clicked my fingers and gave him a jazz hands. Anything to bring that smile back. “Seriously, it’s fine. A little cleaning up and life goes on.”
“He’s done this before,” Evan said. “He likes her to know he’s still alive.”
“Unfortunately,” the three of us said together.
Smiling, I shook my head and took a step back.
“Listen, I need five minutes, okay? Can I leave you to finish tidying up here? I just want to check some stuff downstairs.”
“Sure thing,” Evan said. “We’ll sort out a more secure front door, too.”
“Thank you.”
I left them to it, letting myself into the basement and locking the door behind me. He’d gotten in. I thought I’d taken all the necessary precautions to keep him out of my life like I couldn’t do my mind, but Michael had gotten in. It didn’t terrify me that he’d broken into my house. If he was going to hurt me, he could do it without taunting me first. It didn’t terrify me that he’d torn my house apart; I didn’t care that he’d taken my knickers out of the drawers and scattered them around the house; I didn’t care that he’d taken the last bottle of beer from the fridge, and I didn’t care that he’d ruined my furniture. No…what terrified me was what he’d preserved. What he’d kept damage and erosion-free. He’d been in my workplace and he could have ruined it. But he didn’t.
Nor had he allowed time to heal his obsession the way time hadn’t healed the addiction.
The sound of my own heavy breathing filled the room as I looked at the screen and saw an emaciated twenty-four-year-old woman begging to be left alive.
It was the day I’d paid for my last hit…
12 months ago
“Harley, my queen.” I opened my eyes and saw Michael through the fog. “I’m in a bit of trouble.”
“Are you?” I scrubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and sat up, allowing the sheet covering me to flutter to my lap. “What’s wrong?”
“She’ll do,” a low voice boomed across the room, making me jump.
When I looked towards the door, I gasped. Three men stood in the doorway, filling it entirely until there was no hope for natural light and very little hope for me. I looked at the window. Michael had all but blocked us in entirely; he’d got angry with me a few months ago and put his fist through the window so he wouldn’t put it through me. He
’d boarded most of it up and had promised to replace it, but there were more important things to pay for.
“You’re a pretty young thing.” The man at the front of the pack stalked toward me, stroking his chin. “When Mikey here told me he would offer his missus up, I expected a crater-face crack whore.” He narrowed his eyes at me and dipped lower to get a good look. “If I’m not mistaken, I’d say you even have all your teeth.”
“Fuck you,” I spat, scratching my nails up over my forearm. “What do you want?”
“Sorry, Harley.” Michael shrugged and slinked off the bed, falling back to stand in the corner.
“Lover boy didn’t tell you?” the big—biggest—guy asked.
I shook my head.
The other two laughed. What was going on?
“You see,” the second guy started, walking into the room, followed by the third giant until they surrounded me and I curled up tightly on the bed with my back to the headboard. “Mikey here is in a bit of debt.”
“A lot of debt.” The third guy laughed. “He thought he could run. He thought he could go out of town to score and then waltz back in here like he didn’t owe us.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my bottom lip trembling as the leader sat on the end of the bed and Michael folded his arms across his chest. “How much does he owe you? We can figure something out.”
He tipped his head to the side, his gaze taking in my features. I tried to look sober. What would happen if he realised I took his drugs, too?
“Did he ease you into it?” he asked, reaching out and swiping his finger under my nose, ignoring my wince and the squeal that left me. “Did he tell you it would make it all better if you took just a little bit?”
I paused, looked away, then looked at Michael before I nodded.
“You see, that means you were pretty weak. Daddy issues?” He shook his head. “Nah, you’re far too shy to have been abused by Daddy. So it’s…neglect? Ah-” He smirked before clicking his fingers and pointing at me. “Orphaned.”
I cried, realising I couldn’t stay strong by asking this man and his minions to feed my habit. A habit Michael had forced on me when he could no longer cope with consoling a grieving girlfriend.
“Insensitive prick, isn’t he?” the second guy asked, placing his hand on my shoulder. I froze. “I mean, if he’d have just spent a few more nights rocking you to sleep, you’d be sober now, probably in a post-grad job and living in one of those posh pads in the city.”
“Instead you’re here,” the third guy retorted, moving around the bed to sit on the other side. “About to pay for your boyfriend’s coke habit. Dirty stuff, cocaine. Rots you from the inside out. First your mind.” He stabbed his finger to my temple.
“Then your nose.” The second guy reared forward, pinching my nose as his palm covered my mouth.
“Then your body.”
The leader punched me in the stomach. I screeched, my ears popping as I tried to expel air from my lungs to aid a scream. He grabbed my ankles and jolted me to lie back on the bed, as the second and third man stood and loomed over me.
Michael said nothing.
He said nothing.
Seven
I had made many mistakes over the twelve months since Michael used me to pay for his drug debt, and pissing off his dealers. The biggest mistake was the one I made over and over again; I thought I was over him and the ordeal he’d forced me through. I proved myself wrong time and time again—every time I reached for a little white pouch of powder and told myself I was deciding to do this. I refused to acknowledge my addiction which meant one thing…I was never going to get better. I refused to admit I had a problem, which meant the cycle continued as the months passed.
But today, I felt better. Somewhere deep in my mind I knew it would only be a matter of time before I proved myself wrong again, but I didn’t care. Michael had returned to my life in more than just a cocaine-induced haze; he’d broken into my home, worked his way beyond my defences without so much as a breadcrumb left behind. And yet, I felt calm. I hadn’t contacted my dealer last night; I hadn’t crawled into my bed and prayed I’d never wake. No. I watched the footage he’d planted on my system; it played in a loop and I watched every single time, until Evan came to get me, insisted I showered and ate something, and then we got back to work.
I wasn’t going to let Michael get away with what he’d done to me. I was Frank Davids’ daughter; there was only a handful of people on the planet who knew the real Frank and, not only had I inherited his blood and last name, I’d inherited his ruthlessness. His hunger for justice. His ability to seek revenge without hesitation. After my family’s murder, I’d plummeted into grief and a full two years of mourning meant Michael became my solace. I’d been vulnerable, susceptible to his subconscious abuse, and I’d fallen victim to the power of white powder. It had taken the three men who beat me, abused me, and spent two days raping me, waking me when I passed out just to take me again and again, to bring me to life. I’d stepped out of the cloud of mourning I used as an excuse to be a victim, and I decided I’d honour my father by taking revenge for his death…but first, Michael.
And Carter. I wouldn’t, and couldn’t, deny that he was part of the reason for the latest phase of recovery. I hated him. I knew nothing about him—nothing except that he was a crude, secretive snake—but I needed to be of sane mind around the clock. He’d popped up unannounced twice, and while I felt like he had a motive for bursting into my life, I needed to be alert every time he showed up. I needed to figure out what he wanted from me, so I could deny him, shut him down and wave goodbye with a grin as he walked out of my life defeated.
“I have a runner!” Evan exclaimed with a laugh as the sound of his fingers on the keys sped up, his stern glare on the monitor a stark contrast to the humour in his voice. “Coward!”
I snapped out of my trance, glancing at my screen to see I’d managed to multitask—simultaneously breaking my way into the securest platform in the country, and thinking about last night…and my lack of pain in the aftermath.
I sighed, shaking my head as my fingers moved over my own keyboard as my eyes fixed hard on Evan’s monitor. “Stop playing with your food, Evan.”
He laughed louder, throwing his head back in sheer amusement, as Ben came to stand behind him, excitement making him bounce around on the balls of his feet. Ben was always so full of energy that Evan and I were jealous of him. I couldn’t function without at least six cups of coffee and a few smokes in the morning, yet Ben was one of those annoying people that woke up whistling. The three of us made a great team; Ben was the charismatic little pup, Evan was the sensible brother-figure that kept us both in line, and I was the ticking time bomb who relied on them both to survive some days.
I squinted from across the room as I watched various encryptions stream down the black screen. I smiled when Evan continued to cheer in delight at the amateur ciphers, as he sent back a virus within seconds of him instantly creating it. Evan was the virus expert of the team. He could write and program infected packages off the top of his head that specifically catered to whomever, or whatever, we were up against. “Who the fuck is this idiot?”
I turned back to my own screen, leaving the adolescent boys to play. I was glad of their current distraction and once again, for the hundredth time, my patience quickly died when I was kicked back out. I wouldn’t give up trying to hack into the database I needed. The beat of my heart paused and the breath in my lungs froze when suddenly, miraculously, ‘Access granted. Welcome to the National Security Database, Agent McCuskey’ glared in bright green letters on my screen. Thank you, Agent McCuskey, whoever you are, for selecting such an easy passcode.
Inputting numerous names, features, known associates and specific crimes, I entered all the info I already had, and I prayed as the software did its work. Various names and photographs flashed at lightning speed until it suddenly stopped on one particular file.
My heart began to gallop. My mouth dried and my lungs
bucked in shock when I couldn’t pull in any air. My teeth trembled both in hatred and grief, and my hands shook as I moved the cursor and clicked to open the file.
I couldn’t stop staring at the photograph, his leer bringing back memories that were suddenly too painful, inhibiting my rapid movements on the keys. Each scar on my body tingled in awareness as my mind screamed in horror.
“Harl?”
I jumped when Evan and Ben loomed over me from behind, both their stares narrow and suspecting. Evan looked from the screen to me, and he tipped his head. “Is this one of them?”
I nodded slowly, my wet eyes fixed to my friend’s angry ones. “Number One.”
They both looked at me, and nodded. “Time to begin.”
“Time to begin,” I echoed quietly.
Eight
I hadn’t heard from her in days, and as if she suddenly sensed me thinking about her, my private, and very secure, IM lit up.
It hadn’t escaped my notice that she hadn’t ended the message with her usual hugs and kisses, and I sat upright, sensing her seriousness. I wouldn’t deny, I’d been enjoying the banter that bounced back and forth between us most days. Nor would I deny that I knew she wanted something from me. We’d talked about it, before we’d slipped into an odd online relationship that involved talking about what was for dinner, what she’d done at the gym, and what our plans were for the weekend. All lies on my end, of course, but I still allowed myself to enjoy her virtual company. But her message brought me crashing down to Earth and reminded me why I was the man I was. I typed out a quick reply, trying to maintain the casualness of our friendship, while wanting to scream at her to identify herself so I could punish her one-tracked mind. Women were master manipulators, but I’d figured Ariel out right off the bat.
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