by K. Webster
“Mmmm.” It’s all I can manage as the warmth devours my entire being.
I want to fuck the warmth.
To have its babies.
To roll around in it and taste it.
“Sourpuss,” Esteban snaps, causing my eyes to jerk open. He lifts my legs and sits on the sofa. Then he drapes them over his lap. I’m wondering what he’ll do but I’m too dazed to worry. I blink lazily at him as he picks up the remote and turns on the television across the room. It’s still paused from where Duvan and I started watching Dirty Dancing the night before last. Esteban hits play, and I’m consumed by happy memories of my father.
“I can dance like that,” Daddy says, peeling a strip of rope from his red licorice. He turns to waggle his eyebrows at me.
I curl up my lip and don’t believe it for a second. Not even my sixth-grade music teacher can dance like that and he knows how to do the Moonwalk. “Liar.”
Daddy laughs and swats the candy at me. I steal it and stick out my tongue. When “Love is Strange” starts playing, Daddy stands up and holds his hand out to me. I stick my tongue out so he starts dancing into the middle of the living room by himself.
“Sylvia,” he says.
I laugh. “You’re dumb, Daddy.”
“Oh, Sylvia!”
I’m giggling so hard that Momma comes from the kitchen to laugh at us. When Daddy sees her, he motions for her like Patrick Swayze does in the movie. Momma shakes her head at him and tosses the dish rag onto the couch before sashaying over to him.
“Yes, Mickey?” Momma says.
They proceed to mimic my favorite part of the movie word for word. Daddy wasn’t lying. He’s got the moves and so does Momma. I’m so giddy to watch them dance together that when he hauls me to him, I don’t fight him despite not knowing how to dance. He grabs both my hands and gives me a smug grin. “Told ya, Silvia. Hop on and see how it’s done.”
With a smile that hurts my face, I stand on Daddy’s bare feet. He moves us effortlessly around the living room spinning and dipping me until I’m dizzy with happiness. When the scene finally ends, he kisses my forehead. “Never doubt your dad.”
I hug him. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, Sylvia.”
“You like this,” Esteban tells me and motions at the television I’m smiling at.
I nod and it makes me sleepy. My mind craves to chase my dad back into the shadows of my memories.
Esteban laughs, and it doesn’t sound so evil right now. When I drag my gaze back to him, he’s stroking my thigh while he watches the movie with me like we’re a couple. Where he touches me feels like fire, which makes me squirm.
“Shh,” he says, his hand sliding up between my legs and brushing my clit, “this is the best part.”
My eyes roll back in my head and I lose myself to the movie. I’m in it. I’m no longer in Colombia. I’m no longer in the basement. Instead, I’m Sylvia and Daddy is Mickey and we’re dancing like we were born to do it. The bliss courses through me, but a familiar, beautiful sensation builds at my core. When I find the strength to open my eyes, Esteban is watching me like a hawk. His fingers work me between my legs. I want to stop him, I think. I’m so confused.
The memory has left me high on happiness.
And with the way Esteban is touching me, I stay in a blissful cloud.
I wish it were Duvan, though. My husband. A giggle escapes me. I miss him. My laughter dies and tears roll down my cheeks. Esteban chases my sadness with more pleasure. When I close my eyes, I imagine how Duvan touches me. So reverent. But when I try to see his face in my vision, he morphs into Ren.
Ren’s steel blue eyes are imploring me to forgive him.
He takes my virginity over and over again.
I come hard each time.
A groan jerks me from my white cloud and Esteban is glaring at me. He shows me his glistening hand before forcing his wet fingers into my mouth. My sore tongue stings from his touch.
“Take a little nap, sourpuss.”
He pulls away from me and stalks out of the basement without another backwards glance. Dragging my eyes to the television, I lose myself in another one of my favorite movies.
I can’t nap though. It’s my favorite part...
“Baby,” I sing. “Oh, baby…”
“Shhh,” the voice whispers in the black shadows. I’m in my bed, but it’s so dark. Something tightens around my arm.
“Duvan?” I croak.
A hand cups my breast over my dress and squeezes painfully. I’m sore between my legs which causes panic to skitter through me.
“Relax,” Esteban says, his familiar voice making itself known. “I can feel your heart racing. You’ll go into cardiac arrest if you don’t calm down.”
My entire body aches and I’m on edge. I feel as though I’m needy. But for what, I’m not sure. “Duvan!” But the sound coming out isn’t loud at all. It’s a hoarse whisper.
“You two must have had quite the story planned out before we got here because as soon as I told Duvan you weren’t feeling well in the basement, he seemed relieved to fetch you and put you to bed. Now he’s having a grand fucking time getting wasted downstairs. My brother forgets I have keys to every room in his home.”
“D-Did you rape me?”
Esteban laughs, the chill sobering up my body quickly. “Not yet, sourpuss.”
“No,” I hiss.
He strokes my hair. “You’ll beg for it soon enough. I won’t have to force you.”
“Duvan!” My croak is louder.
“You want more, don’t you? It’s been a few hours since your hit. I can tell you’re craving it already. Funny how the shit just takes you by the throat and doesn’t want to let go,” he says softly.
The lamp flicks on and the bright yellow light has me squinting. I groan and try to sit up. He fiddles with something on the nightstand. Then, I hear the familiar sounds from earlier. They unlock something inside of me. A hungry animal that wants more. When he turns to give me an evil grin, I don’t shy away from him.
“What is it?” I manage to ask.
He brings his face close to mine and breathes hot breath that smells like whiskey in my face. “Heroin.”
I shake my head. “I don’t do drugs.”
He growls as he tightens something around my arm. “You do now.”
His eyes find mine as he jerks my arm to him. I watch in a brief moment of horror as he presses a needle into my flesh. When he depresses the warmth into my vein, I frown at him.
“Why?”
He smiles. “Because you were supposed to be mine. This empire was supposed to belong to me. But all of that was ruined. Now it’s time to fix things.”
Heat surges through me, and I let out a breath of relieved air. “You and Heath are working together?”
He stiffens and grabs my jaw. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Bad men…”
The heated bliss has me fading fast.
Searching for Daddy.
And Duvan.
And Ren.
I’m looking for the good men. Where are they?
Esteban grunts and soon I hear the door slam behind him. I chase my dancing daddy into the darkness…
“How you feeling, tigress?”
Duvan.
It’s daylight and I’m confused. “Hmmm.”
“You really did have a migraine,” he says, regret in his tone. “I thought you were pretending like we talked about. I’m so sorry I didn’t get you something for the pain.”
My body thrums with need. I had something for the pain last night. Esteban gave it to me.
“Did you convince them?” I question.
“I did.” His lips find my neck and he kisses me softly, suckling my flesh between his teeth. I yelp out when he touches me between my legs. He stiffens and murmurs into my ear, “Did I hurt you?”
I could tell him what Esteban did but everything is so confusing and hazy. Would he kill Esteban? Worse yet, would he kill me?
My mind replays to the way Esteban touched me. I remember coming all over his fingers. Oh, my God, I enjoyed his assault. Guilt has me swallowing down my confession.
“I need you,” I beg Duvan. If he will just fuck the memory away, I can better assess how to tell him what happened. I’m not sure I can even tell him though.
Duvan undresses me—he’s already naked—and then he’s inside my sore pussy. He grunts as he drives into me. I can’t look into his perfect purple-black eyes. Instead, I stare out the window.
He makes love to me, and after a long shower together, he’s gone. The guilt running through my veins is enough to want to make me throw up. Luciano is nowhere to be found. I find myself downstairs and staring into the safe on a hunt for what Esteban gave me last night. It takes a bit but eventually I find a baggie of brown crystals. I know from the movies you somehow cook it before you send it into your veins. But I have no idea how to do any of it. Just seeing it there in a form I can’t utilize has me angry and on edge. I shove everything back into the safe, ignoring the shakes. Once I’m upstairs and in my office, I call Oscar.
“Brie!” he answers with an excited chuckle. “I missed—what the hell happened to you?” His dark brows are furled together in concern on the screen.
“I’m not feeling well.”
He lifts a skeptical eyebrow. “Did my brother do something to you?”
If you only knew…
“Duvan didn’t hurt me,” I tell him in a firm tone.
His gaze softens before turning murderous. “Esteban?”
Tears well in my eyes and I divert my gaze. “I’m fine.”
“What the fuck did he do?”
Our eyes meet, and I shake my head. “Nothing, Ozzy.”
The front door slams downstairs, and I slam my laptop closed without saying goodbye. Rushing down the stairs, I hurry to meet Duvan. Thank God I couldn’t figure out the heroin because he would have walked right in on me.
“Did you forget something?” I ask in a cheery tone, hoping to mask my unease.
But it isn’t Duvan standing in the entryway. It’s Esteban.
“I came to give you what you need.”
My heart skips at his words. “I don’t need anything from you.”
He shrugs and saunters past me toward the kitchen. The basement door slams shut, and he’s gone. I wait for ten whole minutes for him to return. Standing idle makes me think too much. I think about finding my mother. The blood. Her blue flesh. Her dead eyes. I think about a psycho stealing my daddy’s love from me. I think about how Ren broke me with his lies. I think about how I betrayed Duvan—my husband—when Esteban shoved his fingers inside of me.
A deep ache forms in my chest.
I’m almost in a daze as I open the basement door, willingly about to step foot into hell with the devil. Fear consumes me, but it isn’t until I hear familiar eighties music playing downstairs from the television that I start clambering down the steps. When I get to the bottom, I see Esteban sitting on the couch with the drugs next to him.
The need inside me starts to fester and crawl.
I want to claw right through my chest to rip it from me. I hate the way he gives me a familiar, knowing smirk that disarms me like Duvan’s does. This man touched me against my will. Made me cheat on my husband. Forced drugs into my system. Cut the tongue from my friend’s mouth.
And yet here I am sitting on my knees beside him on the sofa.
Here I am dragging my gaze from his to stare at the television.
Here I am offering my arm to this monster.
“I’m not so bad, sourpuss,” he says.
But he’s worse than bad.
“Wait,” I blurt out, drawing my arm back to me. “I can’t do this.”
“Nobody’s telling,” he says, his hand patting my thigh.
I close my eyes. He takes my arm gently which only angers me. Why would he be nice right now?
“I hate you,” I seethe under my breath.
The needle bites into me, and I let out a moan as soon as the heat enters my system. He pulls me into his lap and hugs me to him, the needle still dangling from my flesh. His breath tickles the side of my neck. “You need me. And I need you. This was supposed to be ours.”
A tear rolls out as the bliss fully overtakes my body. I relax against him. He doesn’t touch me sexually thankfully but he’s affectionate, which feels even worse.
“Now tell me about Heath’s plan, sourpuss.”
I swallow and remember the way Heath threatened my life. “He seems to believe I won’t be here for long. That I’ll be back with him.” Frustration chases away my high and I let out a sob. “It’s not working.”
His palms roam my breasts through my clothes, and I can feel his erection beneath me. “I’ll give you more after you tell me what his plans are.”
I turn my head to frown at him. “I don’t know, but he scared me.”
He softens his gaze before running his fingers through my hair. “I believe you.” His lips press to the side of my mouth. “Such a good girl. I’m going to take your pants off.”
The panicked look I give him makes him chuckle. “The vein in your thigh is better, sourpuss. Get your head out of the gutter.”
Shame washes over me as he lays me onto the couch. I keep my head turned toward the television so I don’t have to focus on what he’s doing. My pants—and panties, for that matter—get yanked down my legs. I’m disgusted with myself, that I’ve stooped to befriending Esteban so he’ll get me high. When a jolt of pleasure shoots through me, I glare at him.
“No.”
His smile is devilish as he pinches my clit again. “Do you want me to leave?”
I close my eyes and have the urge to kick him. “No.”
“I didn’t think so.”
Tears stream from my eyes as he massages me. I hate that my body responds to his touch—that the need to orgasm is almost as intense as the need for him to shove that damn needle into my leg.
I refuse to beg him but I have to bite down on my bottom lip to keep that promise to myself. When he ceases his ministrations just as I get close to coming, I curse at him. But he stops to drop more crystals onto the spoon. I swear my entire body jolts with the need to shake him so he’ll hurry the fuck up. My mind fades in and out of this reality as he cooks the drugs. And after what feels like an eternity later, I distantly feel him dragging the needle along my thigh. He pinches my clit with his free hand and gives me a conspiratorial grin.
“Ready to lose your motherfucking mind, sourpuss?”
With a twist of my clit and a poke to my thigh, he makes good on his promise. I lose control as an out of this world orgasm compliments the best high I’ve ever known. I’m lost in my own blissful haze as he cleans up the mess and walks away.
And now, my only thought isn’t about Ren or Daddy or Duvan.
It’s about Esteban.
And when the fuck will he come back?
When I wake up, I’m groggy and sore. Shame and regret nearly cripple me. I’m both extremely thankful and sickly sad that Esteban isn’t down here with me. I find myself climbing the stairs on shaky legs on a hunt for him. As soon as I burst through the kitchen door, I find Luciano crying. Her entire body shakes.
“What’s wrong?” I demand, my voice hoarse.
She stares at me in horror. I realize I must look a sight with only a shirt on. Jesus, I didn’t even put any pants back on! He’s fucked me up so hard with this shit, I can’t even think straight. When I look at the clock, I realize I’ve slept most of the day away downstairs. Luciano is sporting a bright red bruise on her cheek that’s fading into purple.
“Did he hurt you?”
Her shaky fingers go to her mouth and she makes a motion of zipping her lips. Anger bubbles inside of me.
“Where is he?”
She once again does the stupid zipping motion and I want to throttle her. Instead, I hobble back downstairs to search for my pants. I’m just picking them up off the floo
r when I hear his voice behind me.
“Looking for me?”
“What are you doing to me?! What did you do to her?” I scream, throwing my pants at him.
He ducks and his gaze peruses my body as he stares at my naked bottom half. “I fucked her because you don’t want me fucking you. At least not yet.”
“I-I need to call Duvan,” I mutter, my hands shaking violently. “This is messed up. This is out of control.”
He stalks forward. “He’s being detained.”
“What?”
“A fire at the warehouse. He’s quite busy.”
I run my fingers through my hair. “You need to leave, Esteban. JUST FUCKING LEAVE!”
Three long steps and then he’s in my face. “Are you sure about that, sourpuss? Would you know what to do?”
A longing begins to burn deep within me, but I fight it. “No more. I don’t want to do it anymore.”
He snags my throat in his grip. “It wants to do you.”
“Please,” I hiss out.
“Please, Esteban, will you pump my veins full of that shit while you make me come again?” he asks, his voice light despite the hostile glare he’s giving me. My body reacts to his words much to my horror. I rub my thighs together to drive away the need.
“Stop!”
“Stop making you feel so damn good?”
Tears roll from my eyes and I hate how weak I am in his presence. “Yes.”
“Yes, you want it?”
“N-No.”
I can barely breathe as he squeezes my throat. My eyes roll back into my head. When I feel him touching me between my legs, I squirm and jerk my eyes back open.
“Want me to leave and fuck with Luciano instead?” he questions, his eyes liquid fury.
The idea of him raping her again has me gagging. “N-No.”
“You want me to stay and make you feel good?”
My face scrunches in a painful frown. The ache in my heart hurts but the growing need for the stupid drug is vining its way around both my mind and my heart. It’s claiming both and crushing them.
“It’s either her,” he murmurs and licks a tear from my face, “or you. I’m not as nice to her. What’ll it be, sourpuss?”
I reach my hand up and grab his wrist. “Not her.”
