So I hover close to her lips, waiting for her to push me away. I expect her to. She hates me for what I did, despises me for picking the wrong thing. And yet, she still lets me brush her lips with mine. Just that warm breath, the touch of her lips, drives me insane, to the point of me smashing my mouth onto hers in full force.
I’ve never kissed a girl before, but fuck, it feels good. It’s everything I expected and more. So much more, that I just can’t get enough. I kiss her softly, trying to feel my way to what she wants and likes. I want her to feel me, to see the real me. I want her to like me again … and I want her happy. This is the only way I know how to fix what I’ve broken. Us.
When our kiss ends, I feel like I should’ve done this a long time ago. She takes her lips off mine and blinks a couple of times, probably a little shaken.
I smile. “You are enough for me.”
Her head turns toward the sound next to us. There are girls looking at us, giggling, hiding their smiles behind their hands. Her eyes widen and her lips part. “Shit.”
“What?” I say.
She unlatches herself from my arms and pushes me aside. “I have to go.”
“What? Now?” I say, trying to hold onto her hand.
But the more I pull, the more she runs. “I can’t …” she mutters, and then she directs her attention toward the girls. “Please, don’t tell anyone,” she begs them.
And that’s when my heart is crushed and stomped on.
My nose twitches from the fury flowing through my veins. How could she say that?
For a moment, she turns her head to me. “I’m sorry, Miles. I can’t.”
And then she lets go of my hand and runs inside.
***
Present, a few days later …
She consumed me.
She ruined my life.
And I will destroy her in return.
Growling, I pick up the nearest pot of flowers and smash it into the wall. Fuck. That feels good. I need to feel the rage again, so I can connect with my thirst for revenge. Fucking with her has sucked out a bit of my will to hurt her, and I don’t get why. I thought humiliating her like that would make the revenge sweet as hell. Instead, it only made me hungry for more.
I can’t stand the thought of having her near me, but I can’t stand the thought of letting her go. As much as I despise her, I still have these uncontrollable urges when I’m around her. I constantly lust after her. All I think about is tasting those sweet, delicious lips, burying my cock in her wet, yielding pussy, and claiming her as my own. Just as I should have done a long time ago.
Fucking hell. I’m a weak son of a bitch.
I pick up another vase and throw it at the wall, watching it shatter it into a million bits. The wall dents, but my pent-up rage is still not under control. I can’t stop thinking about her, and I hate it. I fucking hate it!
Why do I torture myself like this?
Grinding my teeth, I shake my head and knock on my temple with my fist. “Keep yourself together, Phoenix. You can do this. You can punish her. You can make her bleed. Remember what she did,” I tell myself over and over again.
Memories of her smiling as she sees me in jail get me fuming and ready for the next attack. Maybe I had a moment of weakness. Maybe I do want to fuck her until she can no longer stand. Maybe I still want to hear her scream my name. But now, I can use my filthy lust to my advantage. Her body is my playground, and I’ll use it in whatever way I deem necessary to get the job done. If it means carving her with my knife, I’ll do just that. If it means shoving my cock into her throat and making her come from my voice alone, I’ll do just that.
Sex isn’t just to feel good. I can use it as a tool to make her feel like a dirty whore. It’ll be my weapon of choice. My cock will bring her to her knees. I’ll have her begging for mercy before she dies.
I can hear her call out my name over and over again from the attic, but I’m far too busy casually strolling around her house to check the place out. It’s enormous and out of proportion, much like her inflated ego. Must be due to all that money she got from that asshat husband who cheated on her before he was killed.
I have to admit, she’s done quite well, even though she married that asshole. I guess being a manipulative, conniving bitch can get you places. Much like her mother, the wicked witch. Oh, they’re all the same, those women … they’d kill for power. Not just figuratively.
It’s probably why I feel so disgusted when I look at Vanessa. What she’s capable of blows my mind, and yet it’s funny because I’m capable of the exact things when it comes to protecting what I love.
In her case, it was money.
In my case, it was power.
I guess the two go hand in hand. No wonder we’re together again after all this time. We’re like flies on a shit pile, attracted to the same filthy stench.
Aiming for Phillip’s portrait, standing next to a box of his old books, I shoot his face off, shattering the glass in the process. Upstairs, Vanessa is screaming her lungs out, probably afraid that I’m killing someone else now. She can think that; it will only add to the fun I’m having.
As I walk into the hallway leading up to the front door, I notice the huge portrait hanging on the wall. It’s a giant picture of Vanessa in a different floral dress, a big hat, and high heels, cupping her fake blond curls while she smiles at the camera as if she’s some kind of celebrity. Maybe she is, but I don’t give a damn. All that matters is that she’s in a cage, sulking, and covered in my cum. Such a fitting image for a girl like her.
I aim and fire, filling the canvas with holes. The pretty picture is gone; ripped sheets and a chipped frame is all that’s left. Not so pretty anymore. Just like her heart.
“What’s going on?” I hear her yell.
I don’t respond because I enjoy the look on her face when she doesn’t get what she wants, and I’m sure she’ll gaze at me that way when I come back up to the attic. Her looks always got her what she wanted, but not anymore. Not with me.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings, and I frown as I turn around. Who the fuck would come to this place?
I walk to the door and peek through the hole in the wood. It’s a girl, barely twenty, and she’s holding a bunch of papers and a phone. “Vanessa?”
She clearly has some business with my Princess, but I’m not interested in people minding my business. However, if she’s here, that means she knows something’s wrong if I don’t open the door. I don’t want anyone sniffing around this place. Mulling it over, I decide to open the door.
“Hello, can I help you?” I say with the biggest, fakest smile I’ve ever conjured.
“Um … excuse me, who are you?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Well, seeing as I’m in this house and you’re standing outside, I should be asking you that question.”
She makes a face as if she’s not amused. Whatever. I like my wicked sense of humor.
“I’m Paige, her assistant. She’s not picking up her phone, and we’ve got some things to discuss.”
“Okay …” I scratch my head for a second. “How did you get past the gate?”
“I have a key,” she says, holding it up.
Interesting.
“Who are you again?” she asks.
I cock my head. “I didn’t say, but let me ask you a few questions.”
“Why.” She peeks over my shoulder. “Vanessa?”
Sighing, I say, “She’s busy. But anyway, you work for her … you’re still so young, damn. I didn’t realize Vanessa had such a young assistant.”
I spot a hint of a smile. “Yeah, I’m kind of good at what I do. Now, can you let me pass?”
“I can tell that you’re rather meticulous in what you do,” I say with a wink. “So, Paige. Are you still in college or something?”
She folds her arms. “No. Finished last year.”
“Wow, that’s amazing,” I say. “I never even finished high school.”
“Hmpf.”
She do
esn’t seem too impressed. Not the point, either. I just want her details, and I’m not stopping my interrogation until I’m a hundred percent sure that she’s not a threat. Not that I wouldn’t kill her. Hell, I don’t give two shits about this person I just met, but I do want to know if someone would come and look for her if she went missing.
“So, you live on your own, Paige?” I ask.
She frowns. “Um … yeah … I guess. Not with my parents, at least.”
I place my hand on the door. “Sorry, if that’s creepy. I’m just asking because I think you’re rather … cute.” I almost bit my tongue there, but I made it through that sentence. Whew.
Her cheeks flush, and she sucks in her lips. “Oh … Thank you,” she murmurs. “Well, yeah, I don’t have a boyfriend, if that’s what you mean.”
“Awesome.” I give her my flirty smile, and after a wink, she’s completely hooked. I know how to charm a girl. I also know how to fuck one up. “I wouldn’t want to live with my parents either, bringing home a guy like me.” She giggles a little when I lean in. “And I definitely want to come to your place.”
“I don’t have parents, so no problem there,” she says, muffling a laugh.
“Oh, well, isn’t that convenient.”
She makes a face. “Excuse me?”
“Did they die?” I ask, grabbing her arm.
She leans away from me. “Yes …”
“And no other family?”
“Why are you asking?”
“I just want to know if I can fuck you without people asking you how you got so worked up. When I fuck a girl, I do it so hard that you’ll see the marks for days to come.”
Her eyes widen. “No, no,” she stutters. “There’s no one.”
“Good,” I say, tightening my grip.
“Okay, I’d appreciate it if you would let me go now.”
I smile viciously, already tasting the fear drifting through the air. “Not a chance in hell.”
I drag her into the house and slam the door shut, revealing my gun to her.
She screams, but I silence her by placing my hand over her mouth. “You’re coming with me.”
I direct her upstairs, pushing her with the gun to her back. I’m curious to see Vanessa’s reaction. As I slam the door open, she jolts up from the floor; her look changes from scared shitless to raging mad immediately. Priceless.
“Missed me?” I say, sticking my head through the door first, while I hold onto my victim’s wrists.
“Not a chance. What the hell are you doing down there?” she says. “I swear, I could hear you talking.”
“Destroying everything you love,” I muse with a big smile on my face. “Love what you did with the place. Oh, by the way, here’s your assistant.”
When I haul her into the room, Vanessa’s pupils dilate and her jaw drops. “Paige!”
I load the gun and point it at her head. “Say good-bye to your friend!”
CHAPTER 12
VANESSA
I hold my breath as I watch him bring in my assistant, holding a gun to her head.
“No!” I scream. “Don’t do it!”
I can’t believe she’s here. Shit. I totally forgot we had an appointment today. Oh, why couldn’t she stay home? And how the hell did he manage to talk her into coming inside?
Paige screams, tears running down her cheeks as she stands there motionless, not even daring to look at me.
“Why wouldn’t I? Give me one good reason,” he growls.
“She has nothing to do with your vendetta against me. Nothing. So leave her out of this,” I shout.
He jerks her arm, tightening his grip on her. The rage almost spills from his eyes. He’s taking it all out on her instead of me.
“I’m your enemy, Phoenix. Paige is innocent.”
“No one is innocent if they involve themselves with you,” he growls.
“I didn’t do anything. Please, let me go,” Paige whimpers.
“Shut up!” Phoenix snaps.
“Phoenix!” I yell, making him focus on me. “I’m here. You want me. Not her.”
He licks his lips. “You’re afraid, aren’t you? You don’t want me to hurt her.”
“Of course, not!” I yell.
“But, you see, your pain is my pleasure,” he says, pushing the gun against the back of her head. “And now that she’s here, she knows that I’ve captured you. I can’t let her go now, can I?”
“Yes, you can. She won’t tell,” I say, looking explicitly at Paige. “You won’t say anything, right Paige?”
“I won’t, I promise,” she says, shaking to the bone.
“I don’t believe that,” he hisses. “If you didn’t want to get hurt, you shouldn’t have come here.”
“Don’t. Hurt. Her,” I say. “There are other ways. Please, Phoenix, you’ll regret this.”
“I’ve never felt regret or remorse for killing.”
“But she’s innocent. Just because she’s involved with me doesn’t mean she’s done something wrong,” I say, sighing. “They don’t realize what I can do. Who I am.”
Phoenix narrows his eyes.
“Please …” Paige murmurs, crying.
“Please, leave her alone. I’ll give you anything you want,” I say. “Whatever you need. I’ll do it.”
“Without protest,” he says, not as a question but more as a demand.
“Yes,” I say, nodding.
For a moment, everything is quiet. He’s still pointing the gun at her head, and I’m praying that he won’t shoot. I don’t want her death on my hands. I’d feel guilty, even though I’m not the one pulling the trigger. And I know that Phoenix will make me feel guilty, regardless of whether she lives or dies. But maybe I can still save her, even if I’m not savable.
A whimper comes from her mouth, and then he jerks her backward and shoves her back through the door.
“What are you doing?” I shout. “Where are you going? Don’t you dare hurt her!”
“Please! Stop!” I hear Paige scream.
He slams the door shut. Now all I can do is listen to the ordeal. My heart thrums in my throat as I hear him haul her across the hallway. Another door creaks, and then her screams turn into muffles. It sounds like he covered her mouth. A hard slam follows, and then it’s quiet.
I wonder if he threw her down the stairs. If he’s choking her in another room. If he hit her so hard that she fell on a table, hit her head, and died. I think of many things, but not one is conclusive.
When he comes stomping back, I take a deep breath. He enters the room just as angry as before, his eyes almost scorching with heat.
“What did you do to her?” I ask.
“Yeah, you’d like to know that, wouldn’t you?”
“Did you kill her?” I growl. “Because I swear to god, if you did, I’ll—”
“You’ll what? Try something?” He smirks. “Because, by all means, do it. It’ll only give me more excuses to punish you.”
I swallow back my disgust. “Tell me, is she still alive or not?”
He walks into the room and places the gun on the table. “Maybe.”
“If you don’t tell me, our agreement is off.”
“What agreement?” he muses.
“I’m not going to be an easy victim if you killed her.”
He comes close to my prison and taps on the metal. “You forgot the part where you’re in a cage, and I can do anything I want to you.”
I want to rip the smirk off his face. “Then why don’t you just say she’s dead? Why even bother waiting? If you think it doesn’t matter anyway?”
“Because I love to see the anger in your eyes,” he says, leaning in while smiling. “It reminds me of myself. It means you’re going through some emotions that I’ve experienced plenty of times.” He takes a deep breath through his nose, almost as if he can smell my rage. “Feel it, Vanessa. Feel the anger boil and know that it was me who caused it … and then realize there’s nothing in the world you can do about it.” He smiles
. “And you know what the worst part of it all is? That I’ll still get my way. You wanna know why? Because this is my revenge, not yours. Mine. And everything in this place is now mine … including you. And I will use and abuse you how I see fit until I’m sated.”
“You’re sick …” I spit.
“Hmm … The question you should be asking is what will I do once I’m finished with you?”
“Let me guess … I’m probably dead.”
“Bingo!” he says, grinning as he gets up.
Bile rises in my throat as I find it hard to comprehend just how cruel he’s become. What happened to him? Did he really become this way because of me? How?
The problem is that I already know the answer. I just wish I could change the past.
However, wishing won’t change the fact that I’m in this prison. Now I have to face the consequences of my actions; each step of my past contributes to the horrible things I’m experiencing now. I just hope I can change his mind before it’s too late. Before I lose my mind. Before I say things that I’ll regret. Before he hurts me to the point of no return. Before I die.
***
Age 14
With a bright red lipstick, my mother paints my lips, making sure each stroke is as perfect as the next. She does it with her mouth open, which is weird, because I’m the one wearing the make-up. She focuses so intently on the job that she doesn’t even hear the housekeeper knocking on the door.
“Ma’am, the guests have arrived.”
My mother ignores her and picks up some mascara so she can bathe my eyelashes in them. I try to stay as still as possible while taking the occasional peek at the mirror to see what I look like. My cheeks are as rosy as when my mother slaps me, except it’s the make-up doing all the work this time.
“Ma’am?” the housekeeper says.
“We’ll be there in a minute,” my mother finally answers.
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