by Jade West
It’s too painful to eat, so I don’t.
It’s too painful to think, so I don’t.
I lie in bed, cocooned in a smog of despair that won’t lift. My heart breaks a thousand times when I think of what I had and what I lost.
I was so stupid.
And selfish, and cruel, and reckless.
I hurt him.
I’ll never forgive myself for how much I hurt him.
I kiss Joseph at bedtime, and I hobble out to give him lunch, but the rest of the time I’m a zombie.
I may as well be dead.
“You need to eat, Lissa,” Dean tells me on Wednesday. “Please just eat something. Some soup, or…”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
“But you have to! Please, Lissa, think of Joe.” His words make me cry, and he sighs. “Or don’t. Please, Lissa, just get some help. I can take you to the doctors or call someone out.”
“Nobody can help me,” I tell him. “I don’t want to see anyone.”
He doesn’t push it, and I go back to bed.
I shout him to leave me alone when he taps on the door in the afternoon. I tell him I’ve got nothing to say.
He comes in anyway, and chucks me his phone.
“I shouldn’t even be fucking showing you,” he hisses. “But I can’t fucking bear to see you like this.”
The message is blurry, I have to blink three times before it comes into focus.
Delaney’s. 8 p.m.
Your client is Ted Brown.
I almost throw up.
“You can’t go,” Dean says. “Not on your own. He’ll fucking kill you.”
But I’m already up on my feet.
“I’m going,” I tell him and he curses at me.
“Did you not hear me? He’ll fucking kill you, Lissa. Call Helen, get her to babysit.”
“I need to go alone,” I say.
“No, you really fucking don’t.”
But I do.
I do need to go alone.
I take a shower and throw my everyday clothes on. A worn cami and a pair of budget jeans.
I don’t wear any makeup and I don’t spritz myself with designer perfume samples.
I just go as me.
I want him to know me. Me.
I want him to stare into my eyes and see me staring back at him.
I want to hear him say my real name.
But most of all I want to say sorry. I need to say sorry.
Even if it’s the last thing I ever do.
Chapter Forty-Three
Melissa
I don’t bother checking into my own room at Delaney’s. I walk straight through reception and call the elevator. It takes me right up to the top floor, and I head for suite twelve with frantic steps.
I’m not scared.
My heart is already broken. I already hate myself for what I’ve done.
My dreams are already in tatters.
My breath is ragged as I reach the door, but I make no move to compose myself before I knock.
He keeps me waiting this time, and I wonder if he’s right on the other side. I wonder if he’s having second thoughts.
Tears spring to my eyes the very second he opens the door. Bittersweet relief floods through me.
Black suit, white shirt, black tie.
Dark eyes. Angry eyes.
Hurt eyes.
His hair is slick and his jaw is gritted.
The fine lines around his eyes look etched in. He looks tired. Damaged.
There’s a lump in my throat as I breathe him in for what might be the final time.
I soak in the shadow of stubble on his jaw. The birthmark on his cheek. The heaviness of his brow.
“Amy,” he says, and my heart stops.
“Alexander,” I say, and he steps aside to let me pass.
I flinch as the door slams behind me. “It’s Ted fucking Brown,” he snaps.
I nod. “Ted,” I whisper.
There’s no champagne this evening. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out the envelope.
“Let’s get the fucking practicalities out of the way first, shall we?” he spits.
I shake my head. “I don’t want your money,” I tell him. “I’m not here for the money. I never have been.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
It was the wrong thing to say. He tears into the envelope with a fierceness that makes my legs tremble. He throws the notes at me in plumes of rage. They rain down on me, landing on the floor like leaves.
“Pick it up!” he snaps. “Don’t be fucking shy. You want more?”
He pulls out his wallet and empties it at my feet.
I’ve never felt so cheap as I do when his loose change lands on my toes.
“Why are you here?!” he seethes. “Are you that fucking greedy for more?!”
“I don’t… it’s not about money…” I repeat, but he doesn’t care.
“I’ve made you a fucking millionaire, isn’t that enough?! You want more?!” He takes off his watch and throws that at me too.
I can’t stop the tears as his cufflinks bounce off my chest, and I don’t understand it. I’m not a millionaire. I’m not here for his money.
“Pick it up!” he shouts, but I don’t move. He drops to his knees and gathers notes from the floor to throw in my face all over again, and I don’t even flinch. “Take it!”
“I don’t want it,” I whisper. “I swear I don’t. I used the money for my brother, that’s all, to make sure he has enough for a good life.”
“Oh he’ll have a good fucking life,” he barks as he gets to his feet. “He’ll have a whale of a fucking time with the six fucking figures I paid for you.”
My eyes meet his, and I don’t get it.
“Don’t play fucking dumb,” he snaps. “I know you get seventy fucking percent.”
“I get what you give me,” I tell him. “I’d have taken whatever you gave me. I’d have taken nothing.”
He sneers. “What I give you and the rest of the fucking money Claude wires to your fucking account, you mean?”
But I don’t. I don’t mean that. I don’t know what he’s talking about. I tell him so and he rages all around me. He storms across the room and pours himself a whisky from the mini bar, and I just wait.
“Enough of the lies,” he says and lights up a cigarette. “I’ve had fucking enough of it.”
“I’m not lying,” I tell him.
“You’re telling me Claude never fucking paid you?”
“You paid me.”
“And Claude, yes?”
I shake my head. “He said it would be cash… he said never to ask…”
He still thinks I’m lying and I know. His eyes are hostile and suspicious as they stare into mine. I don’t blame him.
“If you’re fucking lying to me…” he threatens.
“I’m done with lying,” I tell him and my voice breaks.
He sits down on the edge of the bed with his hands in his hair, and I so much want to touch him. It pains right through me to leave him be.
“He didn’t pay you?”
“No, never,” I say again.
“Amy, if you’re lying…”
My legs don’t want to hold me anymore. I’m exhausted and empty. I drop to my knees amongst the scattered money.
The silence is heavy as neither of us speak another word. I don’t care. I only care that I’m with him, even though he hates me.
He finishes up his cigarette and drops it into his empty tumbler.
“He really didn’t pay you?”
I shake my head.
“I paid half a fucking million for your virginity and a five percent compulsory cash tip on top. You didn’t get it? What about the million I paid for your fucking settlement fee last Sunday? What about the ten fucking grand I paid twice a fucking week?”
My jaw drops open. “You did what?!”
“You didn’t get it? Not any of it?!”
“I got twenty-f
ive grand the first time, but it was more than enough. It was more money than I’ve ever seen. I get the envelopes. I get whatever you give me. And I don’t know anything about a settlement fee! I don’t know anything about a million pounds, I swear!”
I stare numbly as he pulls out his phone. I watch him as he gets to his feet and presses it to his ear.
“Amy’s fucking money,” he says. “Where the fuck is it?”
I can’t hear the other end of the conversation and I don’t care.
“What do you mean it’s fucking pending? What the fuck does pending mean?!”
His eyes meet mine for a heartbeat, and his next words are for me.
“Did you give the prick your bank details?”
I shake my head.
He turns away. “You don’t even have her bank details you slimy fucking cunt. You thought her name was Amy Randall.”
“I don’t care,” I say. “I don’t want it.”
He silences me with a raised hand.
“Transfer it to my fucking account,” he snarls. “I’ll make sure she fucking gets it. You have twenty-four fucking hours, Claude, or I’m pulling the fucking plug on your seedy fucking operation and I don’t care who I fucking take down with me. You can pass that little gem onto my fucking father.”
He hangs up and tosses his phone onto the dresser.
“You’ll get your money,” he says.
“Please keep it,” I tell him. “Please, Alex- Ted. Please, Ted.”
“You earned it.”
“Being with you was the best thing that ever happened to me. You being my first was all I ever wanted.”
“Shut up!” he snaps.
But I can’t. “You’re everything I ever wanted. I lied because I wanted you. I lied because I thought it was the only way.”
“You lied because you scoped my fucking house out and thought you’d rip me off for some fucking cash.”
I cry-laugh, because it’s so far from the truth, so insanely far from the truth.
“Why are you even here?” he snarls.
And it’s my chance. Maybe my only one.
“I came to say sorry,” I whisper, and the tears roll down my face. “I’m so sorry, Alexander. I never meant…”
“You’re fucking sorry?!”
I nod. “You’ll never know how sorry I am. You’ll never know how much I wanted you.”
I can hardly see him for the tears. I wipe them away and choke them back. I wish I hadn’t. He looks so fucking pained.
“You’ve said it,” he tells me. “So leave.”
I shake my head. “Please don’t make me go.”
“Go,” he snaps, but I can’t. I just can’t. “Get out of here, Amy. Fuck off.”
“Please…” I breathe. “Please don’t…”
“Please don’t what?! Don’t throw you out? Don’t fucking touch you? What?”
“Don’t throw me out,” I whisper.
“Get out or give me my fucking money’s worth.”
My eyes widen. “You mean…”
“I mean get the fuck out of my fucking hotel room or give me what I fucking paid for. That’s why I called you here, Amy. To get my fucking money’s worth.”
I drag myself to my feet and force back the tears. My eyes are on his as I pull my top off over my head and unclip my bra. I take off my jeans and my knickers with them, and I don’t care how exposed I am. I don’t care how angry he is, just as long as he lets me stay.
“You’re fucking insane,” he tells me.
And I am. I am insane.
“You really want to fucking go there?”
I nod.
“Walk away.”
“No.”
“Jesus Christ, Amy. Just fucking go.”
“I won’t,” I tell him. “Not unless you make me. I’ll never walk away unless you make me.”
I half expect him to. I half expect him to turf me out into the corridor stark naked, but he doesn’t.
His eyes are so cold as he gets to his feet. “On the bed,” he says, and I move for him. “On your fucking front,” he tells me, and I do as he asks.
I hear him unbuckle his belt. I feel the heat of him as he comes near.
“Tell me you don’t want this,” he hisses as his weight bears down.
“I’m done with lying,” I whisper. “I do want this. I always want this. I want you.”
“Tell me to stop,” he snarls, and I shake my head.
“Never.”
“Never?”
“Never,” I say again.
“We’ll fucking see about that,” he snaps, and I take a breath as he grabs my hair. He tugs hard and I don’t even flinch.
It hurts so bad as he pushes inside me. I’m not ready but I don’t care. It’s everything just to take him.
“You’re an excellent liar,” he tells me as he fucks me rough. “I believed every fucking lie you fed me. I believed you liked this.”
“I love this. I loved everything.”
I cry out as he slams in deep. His breath is in my ear and his fingers are rough in my hair, his body pounding mine with everything he’s got.
I take it all.
I love it all.
“I fell for you,” he snarls. “You took me for a fucking fool, but you’re the fucking fool for coming here, Amy. You’re the fucking fool now.”
“I love you,” I whisper through the pain. “I’ve always loved you.”
“How about taking my cock in your tight little asshole? Do you love that as well?”
“Yes,” I breathe, and I know what’s coming.
I can’t stop myself whimpering as he forces his way inside. It burns so bad, like my insides are on fire, but I don’t care. I grit my teeth and take him. I buck back at him even though it hurts like hell.
“Tell me to stop,” he breathes.
“No,” I tell him. “Never.”
“Tell me you don’t like this. Tell me it fucking hurts.”
I shake my head. “I do like this. I loved everything you ever showed me.”
“Everything?” The word is a threat. It makes my heart pound.
“Everything,” I insist, even though I know I’m playing with fire.
“You liked it when I choked you half to fucking death, did you? That got you off, did it? Don’t fucking lie to me.”
“I loved everything!” I cry. “I swear I loved everything! I wasn’t lying, not about that! I’d never lie about that!”
I whimper as he pulls out of me. I gulp in breath as he flips me onto my back.
My chest heaves as he tugs his belt from his waist.
“Tell me you don’t want me to choke you,” he hisses and he wants me to say it, I know he does.
But I can’t.
I done with lying.
“Say it, Amy.”
“I loved all of it,” I tell him. “I swear.”
“You’ll tap out,” he seethes. “Tap your fucking hand when you want to tell me the fucking truth.”
My throat is already dry when he wraps the belt around my neck and links it through like a choke chain.
The leather feels so different to his hand.
I’m scared.
I’m really scared but I don’t show it. I don’t want him to see.
“Tap your fucking hand,” he says again as he tugs on the end. I retch but my hands are balled into fists at my sides.
I’m never going to tap out. Not ever.
The moment I tap out, this will all be over.
My chest fights for air that won’t come. My legs tremble with adrenaline as Alexander Henley pins me down and slides his cock back into my asshole.
The burn in my ass pales into significance to the burn in my lungs.
This isn’t like usual.
I’m normally relaxed. I normally feel safe, even though I feel out of control. I normally slip beyond the fear so easily, but not today.
Today it’s a battle not to tap my hand and wrench that belt from my neck.
His
eyes are on mine as he fucks me. Staring into him is the only thing that keeps me still.
“Tap out,” he whispers, but I don’t. “Damn it, Amy, tap fucking out!”
His breath is hot on my open mouth, but I don’t move. I don’t tap out.
I wrap my legs around his waist to take more of him, and my hands loosen from fists to land on his shoulders. I keep them there.
“You’ll tap out,” he hisses. “Fucking hell, Amy, you will tap out.”
But I won’t.
My ears start ringing as my head swims. It’s calmer now. Everything is so much calmer.
His cock doesn’t hurt in my ass anymore. Nothing hurts.
Everything feels amazing.
I stop struggling for breath. I finally find peace.
Dots dance across my vision and it’s okay here. I’m happy here.
I brush my thumb across his cheek, but he feels so far away.
Tap out, Amy. Fucking hell.
He feels so far away.
His eyes are the last thing I see before mine close.
Chapter Forty-Four
Alexander
My blood is on fucking fire as I pound her fucking ass.
It’s a punishment fuck, pure as fucking sin. Raw and brutal and angry. So fucking angry.
I hate the way I love being inside her. I hate the way my cock still craves this.
My eyes bore into hers as I scream at her to tap the fuck out and get this over with.
But she doesn’t.
She fucking doesn’t.
I tug the belt tighter around her pretty throat and she doesn’t even squirm. Her fingers brush my cheek and she smiles at me.
It breaks my fucking heart all over again.
Tap out.
Everything in me is screaming at everything in her.
Just tap the fuck out, you crazy fucking bitch. Stop lying to me.
Her hands fall to the bedsheets as her eyes close.
I stop thrusting the second her chest stops heaving.
“Amy?” It’s a stupid question. Her head lolls limp, and she’s pale, like a fucking ghost.
I yank that fucking belt free in a heartbeat. I tap her face and tell her she’s proved her point. Fuck, she’s proved her fucking point.
I shake her shoulders and demand she fucking answer me.
