Binary Code

by D H Sidebottom

  Rage, or distrust, I couldn’t figure out which, flashed in each unique, but very stunning eye. “Oh?”

  He stepped into me, pressing me into the wall. My neck ached as I looked up at him. “My life doesn’t revolve around you, Carter. Yes. I have a date.”

  The fury that flowed from him made my throat constrict, and not knowing why, I swiftly amended my statement. “But not like you think.”

  His glare faded and he grinned. “Good girl. I’d think long and hard about even deliberating fucking another man.”

  My eyes widened. “Excuse me? Who the hell are you to tell me what I can and can’t do?”

  I gasped when he pinched my nipple through the silk of my blouse, a shot of pleasure spiralling through me and making me shiver beneath his sharp touch.

  Fire heated his eyes, turning green and blue into need and lust. Placing his hands on my hips he slowly slid the material of my skirt upwards, bunching it over my hips. “I’m the one you’re going to get down on your knees for.”

  His eyes dropped and a grin sneaked across his face when he took in my stocking tops. Cupping my pussy, he pressed his index finger against my clit and sent a shot of hunger through me.

  “You’re a bastard,” I breathed, already squirming against his hand, needing him to placate the ache that was becoming unbearable.

  “The bastard whose cock is going to slide between those pretty pink lips and choke you.”

  My teeth snapped together when his hands settled on my shoulders and he slowly pushed me to crouch before him.

  Glaring at him, hating what he was able to do to me, I lifted a hand to his trousers and unhurriedly tugged at his zip. “You want me to gag on your cum, Carter?”

  He hissed, moving his hands from my shoulders to my hair and snaking the length around his fist when I took out his cock and curled my fingers around him. His eyes bore down on me as I gazed up at him and very slowly sank my lips down the entire length of him.

  “Jesus!” he growled. “Do you not have a gag reflex?”

  I smirked, cupping the underside of him with my tongue and sucking hard. His teeth sank into his lip as he watched me blow him, his hands in my hair tightening with every slow but long pull on his cock.

  Pre-cum tickled my taste buds and Carter suddenly yanked me upwards. Slamming my back against the wall, he lifted my legs around him while he tore into a condom with his teeth. I wanted to laugh as I watched him struggle to slide it over his cock while my legs were wrapped around his body, restricting his vision and his movements.

  But all humour left me when he slammed into me right to the hilt. His balls pressed against me, his teeth found my neck, and his growl in my ear made my head fall back and my pussy grip him like a vice.

  “Always so fucking tight, Harley,” he uttered as he slowly slid out of me and then plunged back in, the sheer force of his drive slapping my body harshly against the wall.

  “That all you got?” I taunted, winking at him when fire blazed his eyes.

  “I'm not sure you can handle what I've got, babe.”

  I laughed, riling him further. “Try me.”

  Gasping when his hand circled my throat tightly, abruptly cutting off my air, he forced himself so far inside me I saw stars.

  “Fuck!” I groaned.

  My eyes closed and Carter started to fuck me with a raw power I was struggling to ride through. His thrusts were hard and painful but so fucking good. His talk was filthy and degrading but such a turn on. His hunger was as potent as mine and I fell into the cocoon of pleasure he was forcing on me. The world around me stopped, the air in my lungs froze and every thought in my head left me when only ecstasy commandeered every part of me. Pleasure seeped into my bones, driving me higher and higher as my muscles strengthened in preparation for the orgasm Carter was demanding of me.

  It wasn’t until I heard Carter’s sharp gasp that I realised he’d stopped.

  It was then I felt the rush of cold air across my chest.

  My eyes snapped open and I froze when I realised Carter had ripped open my blouse.

  “What the…?” His voice was quiet but tight, his shock restricting his airway and making him high-pitched.

  “No!”

  I slapped at him, trying to force him away from me.

  Pure fury leaked from him as his distressed gaze slowly moved from my chest to my eyes. “Who the fuck did this?”

  “No!” I slapped at him again, squeezing my eyes closed as I tried to clamp down the tears that were burning my retinas. “No!”

  I fought against him when he gripped the centre of my bra and ripped it open, baring my naked, and very scarred, breasts to his furious stare.

  His eyes snapped up to mine and I whimpered at the feral growl that tore from him. “Who – the – fuck – did – this – to – you?”

  Finding a strength I didn’t know I had, I pushed him. He stumbled back and allowed me a little leeway to stand and dip under his arm. “Get out!”

  “Harley.” He was distraught, his hand reaching for me but I yanked my blouse back around me, covering myself, and shook my head.

  “GET OUT!”

  Uncertainty made him step towards me again but I shook my head.

  “Please.” My tears choked me. “There. I’m finally begging.” My throat ached, but not as much as my heart. “I’m begging you, Carter. You got what you wanted. Please. Go.”

  Without another word, he zipped himself up and left.

  He’d wanted me to beg. I’d wanted him to leave me alone. Yet, now both had come at once, I wasn’t sure I wanted the outcome.

  Fourteen

  Jobe peered over my shoulder as my fingers flew across the keyboard, every now and then moving to pick up the pen and jot down another name.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, picking up the notepad and scanning the list of names.

  “I need to find out who this fucker is.”

  “Which fucker?” He chuckled. “We know a lot of fuckers.”

  I glanced at him before turning back to concentrate on the task at hand. “You have any clue who hired us to terminate Harley Davids?”

  Jobe sighed. “Shit. Dude, what the fuck is it with this chick? She’s just a cunt. Ride it, end it.”

  His eyes snapped wide when I spun around and lunged for him. “The bastards fucking carved ‘whore’ across her fucking tits. The cunts buried into her fucking flesh with fucking smokes. The motherfuckers ripped her to fucking bits!”

  His mouth moved but no words left him. Shaking his head slowly, he took my hands from around his throat and gently lowered them. His eyes glinted as his chest heaved against mine. “Then get back to work,” he growled, snatching his phone from his back pocket. His eyes fixed hard on mine as he spoke into it. “Jimmy, need a favour, mate.”

  I turned back to the screen, scrolling down the list of inmates at Belmarsh prison.

  My own phoned buzzed and I snatched it up when Jace’s name scrolled across the screen. “Yep.”

  “You’re not gonna believe this,” he said.

  “Fill me in.”

  “She’s just met with Jimmy Sheldon.”

  My eyes snapped to Jobe and I made a cutting motion across my throat, signalling for him to end his call.

  So Jimmy Sheldon had been Harley’s lunch date. I shouldn’t have been as happy about that as I was. I knew their relationship was purely platonic; Jimmy no longer owned a cock since his last stretch inside had seen it hacked off by some crazy motherfucker.

  “What?” Jobe asked when he did as I asked and terminated the connection.

  “When, where?” I snapped at Jace.

  “They’re both currently sat in the far corner of the local fucking Costa.”

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “Nope.” He laughed quietly. “He sat down, she got up to get drinks and then he moved across to her seat. He took the carrier bag she’d left under the table and shoved it in his backpack, then he dropped a similar one to the floor in its place.”


  “Keep on her.” My eyes narrowed on nothing as I shut my phone off. “She’s using Jimmy.” I said mindlessly to Jobe.

  He frowned and reared back. “What the fuck does she want with Jimmy?”

  My eyes slowly moved to the list of names I had constructed and quickly roamed over them. The name next to the very last one smacked me in the face. “I can’t believe I missed it.”

  “Missed what?”

  “Fucking Jimmy’s dad. He’s in Belmarsh.”

  “And?” he queried, taking the chair next to me.

  “Along with Number Two on Harley’s list.”

  “I didn’t know she’d you sent a number two.”

  I laughed, grinning. “Not yet she hasn’t.”

  As if my girl -my girl? – was in the very room with me, my IM pinged instantly.

  “Clever girl.” I grinned with pride when an email deposited itself in my secure inbox. She’d used Jimmy to give me an opening, notifying me that because Number Two was in Belmarsh it was still possible for me to get to him.

  There was a pause, before she conceded.

  Her quick surrender told me she still wasn’t herself after what had happened that morning. Visions of her mutilated breasts burned more rage through me and I bit my lip with guilt for being so stern with her.

  My throat hurt when the connection ended and my chat box shut down. I had hurt her with my reaction. Except, I wasn’t exactly sure how she wanted me to react, or what I was supposed to have done and said. The fuckers had torn her to bits, shredded her soft silky skin. Fury bubbled in my gut. I wanted to gut every one of them, rip out their insides and force each fucking rotten piece of flesh down their rancid throats.

  My thoughts moved to the little box I kept securely hidden away, ready for when Harley Davids conceded to me, to who I was and what she had asked of me.

  “Number Two gonna prove difficult?” Jobe asked sceptically.

  I laughed, and shook my head. “Number Two is surprisingly easy.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  “It’s Charlotte’s brother.”

  Air left his lungs in a sudden rush as he dropped to the couch, the mention of her name after so long stilling the beat of his heart. Pretty much like my own really.

  Fifteen

  I stared up at the ceiling as what felt like countless numbers of hands roamed by body. Except they weren’t uncountable. Three pairs. Six hands. Twenty-four fingers and six thumbs. Every single one of them touched a part of me without my permission, but I no longer cared. I knew it had only been hours, but it felt like days. Days since my last hit. Days since I was last in possession of my own body. Days since I’d been lying in bed as the high wore off, waiting for Michael to return with the promise of another. Days since I’d felt like me. Right now I felt hollow, staring at the ceiling as I lost myself a little more. My legs were held around a large body as a cock pummelled in and out of me. My hands were pinned down by knees as four fingers shoved their way into my throat to make me puke. The fingertips of another hand rubbed my clit furiously as if I was supposed to get some pleasure out of this. I laughed, rolling my eyes when I realised how far gone I was.

  “Something funny, princess?” the leader asked, leaning over me to squeeze my breasts together.

  I shook my head, refusing to talk. I knew they’d want a fight, and I’d give it to them—secretly. I’d sneak up on them and punish them all when this was over. If this was ever over.

  “I don’t think she understands the seriousness of her predicament,” Number Two sneered as he flicked my nipples protruding between Number One’s fat fingers.

  “Do you know how many times you’ve gotten high because of us?” Number One asked. “Do you know how many IOUs we’ve taken from Mikey with the promise that payment is coming?”

  I shook my head again, wincing when the third guy smacked my face. He laughed, slipping into his boss’s place when another surge of cum filled me, signalling it was time for a changeover.

  “Fifteen,” he continued, sliding between the wet lips of my pussy. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if I was filled with the seed of as many orgasms from these pricks. “That means you’ve got fifteen instances to pay for.”

  “No,” I choked past the fingers in my mouth, making me gag. “Please, no.”

  I promised I wouldn’t beg, but I knew I would. I was weak. Michael had rewritten my genetic code, making me a nobody, after everything Daddy had done to make me a warrior.

  “Ah, it’s no good begging now, sweet thing,” one of them mumbled—I wasn’t even sure who was talking anymore. “It’s decided. You’re paying the debt and then we’ll be out of your hair…if you survive.”

  “Please don’t kill me,” I whimpered as I watched the man thrusting away inside me light a cigarette. “Please.”

  I coughed as the smoke choked me, the fingers in my mouth finally granting me some mercy. My coughing brought the ache between my legs and deep inside my core to the forefront of my mind and, finally, I cried. I cried so hard, watching Michael standing in the corner knowing he was safe because I was paying for the both of us. I knew what the three men were hoping for—that they were punishing Michael by fucking me. The only problem was, he didn’t care. He just stood there and watched and I swear I saw a hint of amusement in his dull, drug-ravaged eyes.

  “Ready to count with us, Harley?” one of them asked as the other one took the cigarette from his mouth, blowing out a suffocating cloud of smoke as he rolled the white stick in his fingers.

  “Count what?” I had the stupidity to ask.

  I didn’t ask again, not after the cherry of the cigarette made contact with my skin. I screamed when my flesh sizzled and the first scar branded my skin where it would stay forever.

  I woke up in a cold sweat, my arms crossed over to dig my nails into my biceps. Dry heaves wracked my body when I remembered the pain of the fifteen cigarette burns I’d taken on my chest. I could still feel the intense sting, still smell my skin burning.

  I shivered when the cold breeze from my open window whispered over the tiny crevices in my body, making me aware of the gaping craters in my soul. I physically shook with rage, not only at the four men who were responsible for breaking me and turning me into this…thing. But I felt rage for Carter too. I was so damn angry with him for breaking through my defences and then pushing me one step further when I’d made it clear the top half of my body remained covered. He hadn’t answered my silent prayer, he hadn’t taken my cues, and he hadn’t respected my wishes. He’d torn them open when he ripped my blouse, and I didn’t know how to find a way back to the numbness I needed to live in to survive. Throwing the covers off and pressing my head back into the pillow, I took a deep breath. I wanted him out of my life, and yet with him in it, I’d never felt so alive. He’d wanted me to beg, and that’s exactly what I’d done. What was left now? An emptiness I didn’t recognise as my safe place, and a loneliness I didn’t want.

  “Fuck this,” I huffed, getting out of bed and hastily pulling on some clothes.

  It was dark, I was cold; the lingering grogginess of sleep and the cocaine I’d snorted just a few hours ago made me hazy, and I didn’t think before I left my room, then the safe confines of my home, and hailed a taxi.

  “Carter doesn’t take unexpected calls, doesn’t welcome uninvited visitors, and doesn’t appreciate being woken at such an ungodly hour,” the man at the door said when I’d arrived and asked to go up to the penthouse.

  “Please, he’ll let me in.”

  “Then he should be here to take you up himself.”

  “Please.”

  Pursing his lips, the guy folded his arms and looked away as if I wasn’t even there. “No can do.”

  “Fine.”

  I had two choices now. I either gave up and wasted more money on a taxi home, or I persisted and waited for Carter. I didn’t know why I’d suddenly gone crazy stalker chick on him, but I couldn’t help it. I wasn’t myself; I hadn’t be
en since he’d exposed my secrets earlier this afternoon and nothing I’d tried—nothing short of an overdose—would calm my chaotic mind. Deciding to take a breather and get my act together, I flipped off the doorman, dressed in ridiculous all black uniform, and turned away from Chimera. I didn’t go far, only as far as the alleyway at the end of the street, before I let my failure consume me, and slumped to the ground against the wall. What kind of life was this? Not one I wanted. I was a successful business woman, making a name for myself on my own, as well as upholding a reputation I’d built myself in the virtual world, and yet, nothing I seemed to do, nothing I accomplished was enough. Not even the knowledge that I was a quarter of the way through my mission, with the images of Jack dead and almost skinless whirling around my mind. What else was there? What else could I do to fix this festering hole in my soul that just kept widening and widening with every day I made it through?

  I reached into my bag and pulled out a pouch I’d saved for later. I always had a backup and I’d never been more grateful for it than tonight. With shaky hands, I poured the powder onto the back of my closed fist and hunched over to snort it. The second it travelled up my nostril and began streaming into my blood, I felt better. I felt a little bit more human. I felt like maybe this was where I was supposed to be, and what I was supposed to be doing—a junkie getting high, alone, in a dirty alleyway while people lived life to the full just metres from me.

  “Harley.”

  I heard his voice through the haze and reached for him, but it was unnecessary. He was already crouching in front of me and slinking his hands into my hair to hold my head upright.

  “I tried to get in,” I slurred. “I just wanted to see you.”

  “I know, babe. I know.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here now.”

  “They’re just scars. They mean nothing.”

  “I don’t care about the scars.”