Hyde, an Urban Fantasy

by Lauren Stewart

  “Tell her I really need to talk to her about something. She needs to call me. She needs to know.”

  “That you’ve given up snorting your dinner? Good for you. I’ll tell her.”

  “No, it’s not that. It’s something else. Please, Mitchell, tell her to call me. I know—” There was desperation in the boy scout’s voice. And, unless he was feeling the same pain Mitch was—which was impossible—something else was going on.

  “What do you know, Carter?”

  “I need to talk to her first, then you. Please tell her to call me.”

  “Fine.” Mitch slammed the phone closed and threw it on the bed.

  When he went into Hyde’s room, Eden was already sitting on the mattress inside the cage, hands resting in her lap. His clothes looked ridiculous on her. Even though she’d rolled the waistband of the shorts over multiple times, the elastic would never fit her slender waist. The sleeves on the tank top gaped, giving him a glimpse of her breast, making this even harder.

  Her eyes widened and she grimaced at what he was carrying. “Are you gonna drink all that? Like, this week?” Her smile was encouraging, or maybe pitying.

  He set the bottles on the table, and went to get the key to the cage and a syringe—protocol for Hyde, not Chastity. Before she saw it, he replaced the syringe into the first drawer. Forcing his feet to move toward her was difficult. When he closed the door, Eden flinched at the metal-on-metal sound. Standing two feet away from her, the position seemed kind of fitting—what with the bars between them.

  Eden stood and walked toward him, oddly calm. “Who were you screaming at?”

  “Your boy, Carter, called.”

  “My boy?” She let whatever she was about to say pass. “What did he want?”

  Mitch shrugged. “He asked you to call him. So I assume he wants to talk to you.”

  “I’m not sure I’m up for that yet, but whatever.” She placed a hand against one of his, the bar between their palms, taking a deep breath. “Mitch, if you want to— If she wants to— Ugh, this is tough to say.” She pressed her lips together briefly, and then her words started tumbling out as though they were escaping the confines of her mouth. “If you want to have sex with her, it’s okay with me, I mean, you don’t have to worry that I will wake up mad at you or anything because it’s not my decision, well it is my decision, I guess, since I’m deciding right now and what I’m deciding is that it would be okay for you to sleep with her whenever she comes out, not just tonight but whenever you want to—”

  He pulled his hands away from hers, horrified, and shot back from the bars. “You’re giving me permission to use your body when you aren’t in it?”

  She nodded, slightly out of breath from her rant. “Yeah, I guess so.”

  He grimaced at the idea. Have sex with someone who wasn’t her? “Why would I want to do that?”

  She flinched. “You don’t have to look at me like that. I was just trying to be nice.”

  “Nice? Well, it’s insulting. To both of us.” What was she thinking?

  “You’re right. I’m sorry,” she mumbled, turning away from him and grabbing her power drink off the mattress. She took a long gulp. “Thanks for getting these, they are really good.”

  “Are we going to just have shitty, normal conversations from now on? Because that’s not something I’m really interested in doing with you.”

  She covered her mouth to keep her drink down. Then she started crying. Sobbing.

  Mitch kept his feet planted where they were, even though his quads were twitching to go to her. He ran both hands through his hair and concentrated on the window. Nice drapes. Blue. Little swirls. The weeping continued. He tapped his foot on the hardwood. Block the light. Energy efficient. Of course, the plywood behind them helps with that too. Oh God. Her breathing was coming in little gasps. Don’t look. Don’t look at her. Focus on something else.

  He scanned the room, making very sure that he never faced her direction. Let her cry it out. She’ll be fine. Why is she crying? Did I do something wrong? A drink! Get a drink. Big, very big drink and wait for her to stop crying. Damn it! “Why are you crying?”

  Her eyes were red and leaking everywhere, as if she’d been caught in the rain with her face toward the sky and hadn’t been able to look down. She wiped her cheeks with the edge of the tank top, flashing a flat belly and the bottom curve of her breast, reminding him of what they’d done earlier.

  “Christ.” He was like a Pavlovian-fucking-dog. He moved behind the chair so she wouldn’t see the twitching of his cock. Having a mood detector that made itself visible in the least opportune times was the worst part of being a man—even when that man’s mind was in the foulest of moods.

  “I think I should go,” she whimpered.

  “You can’t. Not until your cage is delivered. Then we’ll—”

  “You bought me a cage?” For some reason, she looked disappointed.

  “Isn’t that what every woman wants? I know most would prefer jewelry, but I thought this was more practical. I suppose I can have some bling installed on it, if you want.”

  She shook her head, her tears slowing. But not stopping. What did she want from him? “I’ll pay you back.”

  “Consider it a gift.”

  After a brief sagging of her shoulders, she stood up straight and put her hands on her hips. “When will it come?”

  “Not sure. I had Jolie order it before our little squabble. But it’s being delivered and installed here. I couldn’t tell Jolie about you. She was confused enough that I wanted another one. Unless you absolutely can’t handle it, it should stay here. I think the bars on the windows brought enough attention to you already.” He sneered, knowing she didn’t deserve the sarcasm in his tone, but unable to stop it. “What would your neighbors think?”

  “You’re right, my apartment is probably the wrong spot for it. Maybe I can find a warehouse space or . . .”

  “Why do you want to leave so badly?” He sat down in the armchair and poured himself a drink. Maybe he should bring his entire liquor cabinet up here. Then he’d never have to move. He could have the booze delivered too. Stay inside locked up for one night, stay shit-faced until the next transformation. Great idea. Just great.

  “I think I’ve taken up more than my share of your time.”

  Is that what she thought it was—his time? His fucking time? “Let’s get this over with.” He wanted out. He wanted to get away from her before he turned into a weak, sobbing puddle on the floor.

  She sank down onto the mattress and looked at her hands. After taking a deep breath, she leaned back and turned to face him, bringing her legs up into a fetal position. “I’m sorry, Mitch.”

  His stomach tightened so hard, he had to lean his elbows on his knees. “Don’t ever say that to me again.” Please close your eyes before I break down. Please God, close them quick.

  She rolled over, putting her back to him. Her shoulders shook, but no sound came out. Or maybe his system had started to break down—first his hearing, then sight perhaps, smell next, as each sense was taken away. He hoped it was that.

  Eventually her breathing evened out and the fatigue brought on by the last few days got the best of her. Mitch didn’t move closer, didn’t try to look at her face, tried not to stare at her body. Tried to get a grip and be a man. Shit, he was acting like a teenage girl after her first love broke up with her in a text message. Pathetic.

  He didn’t know what would happen when he saw Chastity. Sure, he’d desire her—that was kind of a given. Would it be better to flush Eden out of his system? Remove her scent by covering it up with someone else’s? Maybe. But Chastity wasn’t the one to try it with. It would be like wiping the water out of his eyes while he was drowning.

  How long had it been? An hour? Two? Still no Chastity. Much less Scotch in the bottle, but no more Chastity. What the hell?

  He spent the rest of the night watching her through the bars, never getting closer. Reveling in the fact that the pain from Hyde w
as finally overtaking the pain from losing Eden, he almost welcomed the bastard home.

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  Eden jolted awake and looked for Mitch.

  He was still sitting in the chair, dark circles under eyes that looked as if they’d seen hell and didn’t yet know they’d returned.

  What had Chastity done to make him look like that? “What did she do?”

  Mitch shook his head from side to side slowly. “She didn’t show.”

  “What do you mean?” She looked down. She was still dressed in Mitch’s clothes.

  “Can’t you tell? You finally got some sleep.”

  It was true—she did feel rested, but that meant . . . “It worked! The sex worked!” She jumped off the bed and bounced to the steel door. “How long do you think it will last?”

  He pushed himself off the chair and semi-staggered over to unlock the cage. “I have no idea. I’m not even sure it was the”—he swallowed—“sex.”

  As soon as the lock was opened, she threw herself at him, giggling and absolutely unwilling to let his moody drunkenness ruin the good news. “Why’d you drink so much?”

  Dang it. Being face-to-face, inches from his lips, was a stupid position to put herself into. But she couldn’t seem to move away. His heart was hammering against her breasts. Or it could have just been the echo of hers. They stayed stuck together, searching each other’s eyes, waiting to see which one would say something, who would move first.

  He did. By unwrapping her arms from his neck and stepping backwards silently.

  “I’ll go . . .” Home to cry. She bowed her head and walked past him, careful not to brush against him. It took everything in her not to throw herself at him again or start spewing words of love and emoting all over him. Grow up, Eden. Did you really expect him to start installing the picket fence?

  “When will you be back?” His voice was flat, clipped almost.

  She stopped, didn’t turn. “I don’t know. I don’t know when she’ll come, so . . .” She couldn’t ask. Couldn’t offer herself up for more rejection.

  “Tonight. Every ni— Oh!” He collapsed to his knees, grabbing his stomach.

  She knew he’d had a lot to drink, but not that much. He was obviously paying for it. “Do you want some water or aspirin or something?”

  “It’s him, Eden. It’s Hyde.” He groaned, rolling onto his side with his eyes clenched shut, his chest convulsing as he fought for breath. “Get Jolie.”

  She ran to him and slipped her hand under his head. “Tell me what I can do.”

  “Get Jolie and get out.” Anger mixed with the pain in his eyes. “I don’t want you here,” he said through gritted teeth. His words were like cement being poured around her heart. All he had to do was blow it dry and toss it into the ocean.

  “Where’s your phone?” she asked solemnly.

  “Bedroom. Hurry.”

  That he still didn’t trust her enough to want her help was like the lash of a belt. It made her feel even more pathetic for relying on him so much. But she’d dwell on that later.

  She found the phone on his bed and went through the contacts to find Jolie’s number. She saw her own name with a star next to it, right on the top of the list. Probably an accident. Jolie’s was the second.

  An angry voice answered. “I’m not talking to you.”

  “Jolie, it’s me. Eden.” Before Jolie could start in on her, she started explaining. “He needs you. Hyde’s coming. You have to come over now.”

  “No. You’re there. You take care of him.”

  “He doesn’t want me, Jolie.” She swallowed, readying the admission to a woman who would eat it up smiling. “He wants you. I’m supposed to call you and then leave.” Eden imagined Jolie sitting up straighter in her chair, suddenly interested in hearing more.

  “You’re leaving?”

  “After you get here, yes.” And do what? Go to a movie? Get her nails done, knowing that the man she loves is being well-taken care of by another woman, one who he actually trusts and wants beside him. What in the world could distract her from that?

  “I’m on my way,” Jolie said. “He’s really turning in the daytime?”

  “Seems so. He’s never done that before?”

  “Not that I know of. His transformation isn’t even due for another few weeks, so who knows what’s going on. It’s your fault, you know.”

  This wasn’t the time to fight. Maybe later, when Mitch was okay. Or maybe never, when Eden was no longer a presence in his life.

  “How long until you get here, Jolie?”

  “Five minutes. Maybe ten, depending on traffic. So you can start packing your stuff up now.”

  Eden could hear the smile in the other woman’s voice, like a cat with a milk mustache. “Not much to pack. But thanks.” She wanted to throw the phone at the wall, smash it into little bits. Instead she ran down the hall to Hyde’s room, hearing Mitch’s groans get louder.

  He was standing, barely, staggering into the cage.

  “She’s on her way.” She went to him cautiously and took his arm, guiding him to the mattress.

  “Help me get the straps out. Quick. I don’t know how long we have.”

  Eden knelt between his legs and reached her hand underneath the foot of the bed and felt around. When her fingers touched metal, she yanked down. One. Two. Then the top corners.

  “Put the cuffs on me. Then get out of here.” When she didn’t move, he said, “Please, Eden! For God’s sake! This is different. I don’t know what is going to happen. You need to strap me in and then leave.”

  Her hands shook as she closed each cuff. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t want you to be here when he is.” His eyes begged her to listen. “Don’t want you to see me like that again. Not after—”

  With all four limbs bound, his body writhed on the bed helplessly, painfully. “Eden, please listen to me. Hyde is dangerous. I need to stay in the cage. I can’t—” His words were broken apart by a groan and a spasm that contracted the muscles in his neck and torso. “You have to call Carter and have him help you tonight, lock you up in case Chastity comes, too.”

  Eden nodded, agreeing without thinking.

  “If you don’t do it, I will.”

  “Okay, I’ll call him. You just . . . take care of yourself.” She leaned over him, her body reacting without thought, and kissed him.

  He flinched briefly, and then met her lips with a shudder. Way before she was ready to let go of him, he turned his head, tearing his mouth from hers. “You need to leave before I transform, and you end up kissing him.”

  That thought broke through her need for him, allowing her to regain control and put space between them.

  He seemed calmer, the painful contractions of his body slowing. “It was a nice try, but I think that’s what’s bringing him out early.”

  “No, I don’t believe that.” Eden watched him struggle for a long time, his mouth moving as he counted his breaths with his eyes closed, going into himself and further away from her.

  Jolie appeared at the door, glaring at her. “All packed up, dear?” She’d gotten there fast.

  Eden glanced one last time at Mitch. “Please call me.” She stepped out of the cage. “Jolie, please make sure he calls me as soon as he’s . . . himself.” Without waiting for a response she may or may not have gotten, she left.

  CHAPTER XXXIX

  Concentrating on slowing his breath, doing some messed-up, desperate kind of yoga, Mitch felt himself winning, gaining control over Hyde, pushing the bastard back into his ever-ready attack position. How long will it last?

  Jolie approached the cage and peered in. “Jesus, Mitchell, you look like shit. When’s the last time you ate?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Well, did you have the soup I left for you?”

  “It was delicious.”

  “Good. Do you want more? I could pour it down your throat.”

  He heard the venom in her voice, but didn’t say anything.
They both knew how dependent he was on her at this point, so he’d accept the verbal punishment.

  “Maybe later, thank you, Jolie.”

  “You’re . . . welcome.” She paused. “Seriously, Mitchell, are you doing okay?”

  He didn’t look at her. “Am I forgiven?”

  She humphed. “That depends on your answers to my questions.”