Hurt Like Me

by P. A. Brokenshire

  The music was still playing across the hall, but the sound of the television in the living room drew me to put on my sweats and make my way towards the common area. Avery sat on the couch, firmly glued to some television show, her hair pulled back in a pony, a blanket over her lap and her tank top hugging her body. I bet you she had those damn shorts on too. She let out a laugh that ended with a snort. What the fuck? She always watched TV in her room, she spent almost all her free time in her room. It was weird to see her camped out on the couch and it was even more insane to hear her laugh like that. What could she possibly be snorting at? And why was it so attractive?

  "Oh, shit, sorry. I hope I didn't wake you up," she said, placing her bowl of popcorn on the coffee table and pausing her show or movie. "I was trying not to be too loud when I got back from seeing Dad, but I couldn't watch the TV in my room with the stereo on and I wanted to take a break from reading."

  The stereo? Why didn't she just shut it off...oh, dear god. She played it for me. The thought made me both ashamed and grateful.

  "You didn't have to leave it on for me," I said, trying my best to sound nonchalant as I sat on the other end of the couch and reached for the bowl of popcorn. It smelled amazing, buttery and delicious. I was shocked she hadn't burned it.

  A blush brightened her skin, all the way down to her chest. My eyes wandered there for the briefest moment before I looked into her eyes. She didn't avert her gaze, but her hands wrung the blanket that lay across her lap.

  "It seemed to help you."

  Jesus. Fucking. Christ. I choked on the popcorn in my mouth, setting the bowl back down where I had picked it up from. A kernel was lodged somewhere in the back of my throat and I began to wheeze. Avery practically flew over to me to pat me on the back until it dislodged. It took a few moments for me to recover, to realize that her eyes had gone wide.

  "Oh my god, your back....your chest...."

  I looked down to see what she was so shocked about. Oh, that. I assumed the nail marks on my front matched the ones on my back. Now that she mentioned it, I could sense the slight burning sensation from the cuts.

  "It's fine," I said, and it was fine, better than fine. I liked it. She looked at me questioningly and I had to fight back the urge to shout at her. She didn't need to feel sorry for me. I didn't want her pity. In fact, I very much wanted a repeat performance. I took a steady breath to stop myself from yelling at her despite how much I wanted to. "In case I didn't make it obvious enough last night, I like it, Avery. You could have ripped off all my skin with those greedy nails and I would have let you."

  "But-"

  "Drop it," I cut her off sharply and I could see the argument in her eyes. I added a soft please.

  She was so impossibly stubborn and observant. She pressed play on whatever nonsense she had been watching, taking the hint. My thoughts drifted back to her earlier comment. She noticed that the music helped. Avery had always been too aware. She noticed things I didn't want her to notice and if I hadn't said please she would have pushed the subject. Typical Avery. It would have led to an argument, to more hate, and hurt. Funny what a simple word could do, could stop.

  She was getting too close to the truth again, like she had in school. This time I wasn't going to retaliate. I would redirect her. I would make it clear that I didn't want to talk about it, about any of it. Especially not tonight. I just wanted to sit here and enjoy the last remnants of happiness before the memories made it impossible to think. We could relax, and she could make that stupid snorting laugh and soon...soon I would convince her to help me forget again. I groaned inwardly. My dick was not being helpful. I shouldn't do it again, but I wanted to. I wanted more nail marks, more pain, more Avery. Already a plan was forming. Next time...next time she would come to me and I'd be ready when she did.

  Chapter 26

  Avery- Present

  A week had passed since the night...well, that night. I tried not to think about it too much, to let my mind wander. If I started it was extremely difficult to stop, sometimes not until my hand had eased my thoughts a time or too. Even then, my thoughts would inevitably drift with Garrett around me all the time. We didn't try to avoid each other anymore. We went and saw Dad together every day after he got home from work, ate whatever dinner he prepared when we got back, and then settled in to watch something on TV Usually one of my shows, but sometimes comedic sitcoms that Garrett liked. I'd never taken him as the type to watch those. Then again, I'd never pictured him enjoying anything in particular except women and drugs.

  Garrett had been a mystery before, a fantasy. Now he was a man that watched sitcoms and cooked better food than most restaurants. He was the man that screamed in his sleep, who read in my bed instead of sleeping. A man that was slowly becoming less and less of a shadow, but no less dangerous. I wanted another taste of him and that was a very, very, bad idea.

  It was a bad idea for a multitude of reasons and he clearly recognized that. He was keeping his distance, despite my longing stares. When he didn't make a move or show a hint of interest in my direction after he went to his bed the morning after, I figured he was either trying to be good or he just didn't want me anymore. The thought stung, but it didn't stop my wanting, my craving. I tried to rein myself in, I really did, but my body was still aching for him. More so than ever before. It's like now that I knew what I had been missing it was almost impossible to ignore. I could see how Heather had fallen into his trap because I found myself now being the willing mouse in a hungry snake's cage. It's difficult to fight a snake when the snake is so thoughtful and kind. If snakes laughed at stupid shows or made delicious meals for the mouse it would happily walk into its pit. What a stupid analogy. I was out of my damn mind.

  "Dad seems to be doing better. His sentence structures are getting more complex," I said, flipping through the mail on the table as Garrett made fried rice. I had begged him to make it tonight. It was even better than China Gate.

  It took me a moment to realize what I had said. When did he just become Dad and not MY Dad? I wasn't sure. Was it when Garrett started talking about the Delano project with him while helping him eat his lunch? Or was it when he stayed overnight at the nursing home because he thought Dad needed company that night? Fuck. I couldn't keep track anymore. I wasn't just lusting after my High School tormentor anymore, now I was actively thinking of him as...what, family? No. It was something that I didn't want to say or even think.

  "Ferrah says he ate dinner without any help yesterday," he said, plating the fried rice. He placed it on the table next to the orange chicken. My mouth watered. "Do you think there is something going on there? A little nurse and patient action?"

  I laughed, trying to hide my hideous snort, but when it slipped Garrett smiled and it made my stupid insides flutter. He handed me a plate and I immediately started to fill it. He hated it when I waited for him to eat.

  "I noticed that." I took a bite and moaned at the heavenly taste, my eyes slipping closed. I could swear I caught him watching me eat just as my eyes reopened, but he quickly averted his gaze, turning back to the counter to arrange some cookies on a sheet. So maybe he hadn't completely shut himself off to the idea of me, or maybe I was full on delusional.

  I stared at his perfect backside as he put the cookies in the oven, like anyone could blame me. He wasn't wearing a shirt. Claimed it was too warm while he was cooking. He still wore that apron though, and fuck me, he looked so beautiful in that damn apron. All strong shoulders and lightly tanned skin. My nail marks were beginning to fade from actual wounds, but they were starting to fade to an angry pink. I wondered if they would scar.

  "It's kind of weird, but I'm happy about it."

  I wasn't sure if I was talking about Dad anymore or the way Garrett looked with my marks on him, at the thought of them permanently on his skin. When I had first seen those scratches outside the bedroom I thought I had gone too far, that I had done something terrible, but he had corrected me quickly. He'd liked what I had done. And so did I. Maybe tha
t made me an awful person.

  "Me too," he agreed, and I had to remind myself that we had been talking about Dad's budding relationship with Ferrah. After starting the timer, he removed the apron and took his seat across from me and I lost all my focus on the conversation.

  I moved the food aimlessly around my plate. My hunger was now entirely different. I devoured his chest with my eyes while he ate, the marks fading there as well. I was infinitely glad it was September and he wouldn't take his shirt off at work. I wasn't sure how I would feel if I knew the guys on the site saw him all marked up. They might ask questions and Garrett might not lie. A part of me liked that thought too much. Would he tell them how I let him fuck my mouth or what I tasted like? Would he let them watch if they asked? The part that was currently throbbing from the sight of him shirtless tensed. That thought was absolutely filthy, but I loved it. I found myself thinking that I would let him. I would let him fuck me in front of everyone. A perfect little pet on his leash. My feet wandered under the table, my body drawing closer to his, possessed by some ancient need.

  "Do you think-" His voice stopped abruptly when my foot came in contact with his leg. It was an extremely bold move on my part. I felt naughty and powerful, and wanting.

  "Do I think?" I pushed him to continue and watched him swallow- hard. The right side of my lips lifted ever so slightly, my foot finding his calf.

  "Do you think-" He started over and I moved my foot higher onto his leg, finally pressing into his thigh. He dropped his fork, clearing his throat. "He'll come home soon?"

  "I think...that we still have the place to ourselves for now." My foot continued farther up his thigh and touched something very hard. "And I think I want to use that to our advantage."

  The oven beeped, making both of us jump at the sound. The cookies. He got up and pulled out the tray, setting it unceremoniously on the stove before turning in my direction. The look he gave me was devilish as he crossed his arms. I didn't take my eyes off him, granted my eyes did wander lower, much lower. I was distracted. I was desperate. I was...drooling. Jesus. I licked my lips, trying to compose myself.

  "Do you want to try something wicked, Pet?"

  Good lord, he knew what he was doing. He had to know what that word did to me. I sighed deeply, trying to find the will to say no, but that word was not in my vocabulary it seemed. Not when it came to Garrett. I wanted to try everything with him, every wrong dirty depraved act that had crossed my filthy mind. Tied up, on display, held down, choked, forced, tears streaming down my face, all of it- everything.

  "What did you have in mind, Sir?"

  A groan escaped him. If he wanted to play, I was game. I had been aching for days.

  "You'll have to go get dressed."

  Get dressed? I was taken back by his request. That was not what I had been expecting. I must have given him a weird look because he pulled me up from my seat by my arm and leaned his head down so our faces were a breath apart. I could practically feel his lips on mine. So close.

  "Now. Pet." The command made my insides turn to liquid, warm and molten. He turned me away from him, smacking me on the ass and it took everything in me not to fall to the floor at his feet, beg for more. "Wear some workout clothes and tennis shoes."

  Chapter 27

  Garrett- Present

  Avery went to her room to get changed and I put the leftovers in containers. I didn't need to get dressed. My sweats covered the important bits. But I would have to put on shoes and grab something from my room. I grabbed the box from inside my nightstand and popped in a piece of cinnamon gum. By the time she came back into the living room dressed in yoga pants and a tank top with her hair tied back I was ready. I handed her a cookie. Not so much for her benefit as mine. I wanted to taste the chocolate on her tongue when this was done. She ate it thoughtfully.

  "So, what are we doing? I admit I'm confused."

  "You're a sick, twisted little shit."

  For once I agreed wholeheartedly with the voice of my mother in my head. What I had planned was absolutely demented. I'm not even sure why I found the idea so appealing. You would think after everything I had been through this would be the last thing my cock wanted. So why was it so hard it hurt? Even the touch of the sweatpants made me want to cum. I'd been thinking about this for years, but it never felt right with those pliable high school girls, or the junkie women. This felt right. With Avery. With the woman who had ignited my desire for pain and sex. I just needed to make sure she would be willing.

  "I need you to know that this is extreme."

  Her eyes widened and I watched her shift her thighs and swallow. She liked whatever idea she was conjuring up. What wickedly nasty things was she thinking of? I thought up all the ways I could make her tell me. All the rotten, horrible things I could do to her. Pull her over my knee, make her crawl, edge her out of her mind. Later....later. There shouldn't be a later, but now that I knew she was so incredibly willing that she sought me out tonight, that she teased me...well, fuck, all bets were off because there was nothing more I wanted than to shut off everything again and again. As many times as she would let me.

  I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. The monster inside me wanted to see how far I could push her before she would break. This was so fucked up. I walked to the back door and opened it. The moon was full as if whatever controlled the universe decided to give me the perfect setting. The slight cool breeze that tumbled into the kitchen made my skin prickle. I turned back to Avery, noticing her gaze had drifted down again, to where my cock tented my pants.

  "I want you to run," I said, trying to keep my voice as steady as possible. "And I want to chase you."

  Her eyes found mine again, a blush running across her cheeks and down to the tops of her breasts. She liked the idea, that much was obvious.

  "That's not all." I said, reaching for the object that I had grabbed from my room. This is the part that I wasn't sure she would agree to. I reached for her hands, enjoying the soft feel of her warm fingers. I placed the claw rings on her. They had rounded blunt edges, but she would definitely still be able to break skin. Way better than she could with her short nails. Good. I wanted her to rip me apart. "When I catch you, I want you to try to fight me off as I fuck you."

  She gasped; her beautiful green eyes went wide. Her chest rose and fell quickly now. I wasn't sure if it was in fear or excited anticipation, so I took the opportunity to soothe her, reaching up to cup her cheek, running my fingers softly across her skin. She didn't shrink away from me, only nuzzled into my hand like a kitten. Fuck me. I would go to hell for this. If not for what had happened when I was a kid, even more so for this.

  "After, I'll bring you back here and shower off every inch of dirt from your body. We can watch one of your stupid shows and I can eat you for dessert." I chuckled, trying to lighten my tone, not to scare her. "You have to agree though. You have to tell me now if it's too much and we can skip it. I can take you to bed, we can do it some other time or never at all. "

  "I-," she stuttered, wetting her lips. "I want to."

  Fuck me. I slid my thumb along her bottom lip, euphoria flooding me. The wicked pet sucked that thumb straight into her mouth and my heart almost stopped.

  "Safe words, Avery." I choked out the words, pulling my thumb free. She pouted and my dick twitched. Leaning forward, I nuzzled my cheek against hers, wrapping an arm around her waist in a tight grip. "You'll need safe words."

  She nodded, a soft okay slipping from her.

  "Something to tell me to stop." I caressed her skin with my lips, feeling her breath on me, her nipples pressing through her shirt and against my chest. "Something to say you're still okay, but that I need to back off a bit. Because I want you to scream, I want you to cry. I want to break you."

  I sucked on the spot just below her ear and she cried out, clinging to me.

  "Safe words, Avery. Tell me what you're going to say when you want me to take a step back."

  I bit down on her skin and she squirmed as I dug
my hand into the swell of her back roughly.

  "Stirrings," she yelped out the word and I loosened my grip immediately, went back to kissing her neck. I didn't miss the reference to the Giver and my heart gave a squeeze. Of all the things she could pick.

  "Good girl."

  She moaned loudly at that, basking in the praise.

  "Now tell me to stop."

  I reached up to yank sharply on her hair, holding it tightly in my grip.

  "Receiver!" She cried out in surprise.

  Stepping back, I released her immediately as she heaved in panting, excited breaths. She was beautiful.