Killing Hearts

by P. Brier

  “Stop looking at me like that”

  “Like what” I counter.

  “You know what” he states, shaking his head “I’m sleeping on the roller bed that’s in the closet. You take the bed” he nods to the bathroom, “go take your shower.”

  With a huff of annoyance, I grab my bag and walk to the bathroom. I know he wants me, I know there is a connection, but he just keeps pushing me away. Fighting everything that is us. He is hot and cold.

  I pull my t-shirt off and my pants follow. I step into the stream, hot water cascades down my sore muscles. Everything over the past five months has happened so fast. Bane and I are at a standstill, just like we were years ago. I killed my fucking father. I should freak, or something, but instead I have been comfortably numbed for last five months.

  I run my hands through my hair as the water falls from the strands. I imagine Banes calloused hands roaming over my body as I find that spot between my legs. I roll my fingers over the sensitive nerves and I lean against the shower wall. A series of soft moans escapes my lips as I visualize his hands doing the ministrations. I roll my hips into my hand, I close my eyes, I bite my lip.

  “You are the most beautiful creature I have ever seen or heard. You are all I think about, Jesse, and I shouldn’t want you”

  I startle, and stop touching myself the minuet I hear his husky voice. He hasn’t moved the shower curtain but I can feel how close he is.

  “I need to have you, I take it anymore, not touching you is painful” he roars.

  Before I have a chance to respond he pulls the curtain and steps in, clothes and all, and puts his hands on either side of my face. His right-hand slides down my face, over my neck, beside my breast causing my nipple to perk, he hovers over the place I was just exploring.

  “Tell me you want me to”

  I nod and his mouth is on mine. I moan into his mouth as he circles his index and middle finger over the needy bud, he lifts my leg so it wraps around his waist, and I grab hold of his shoulders for balance, as he continues bringing me to climax. His mouth never leaving mine, our tongue intertwining in perfect rhythm. My eyes widen as I feel the explosion rising in my body. The weightlessness as I come undone in his hand. He ends the kiss, and brings his hand up and licks the evidence off his fingers.

  “Beautiful” he whispers as he slowly lowers my leg.

  Without saying another word, he grabs the shampoo and begins to soothingly wash my hair. His fingers massage as he cleans me. He tilts my head so the water can wash away the remaining soap. He lathers up a cloth and softly runs the soapy fabric over my body, being gentle with every stroke. We do this in silence as he washes my body and rinses me off. I can see the strain in his pants as he continues to rub my body clean.

  After we get out, he is still in his soaked clothes but he puts the towel around me and dries me off. His eyes never leaving mine. After I am dry, he lifts me into his arms and takes me into the room and lays me on the bed.

  “You don’t know what you do to me” he states as he removes his wet shirt. “I have wanted you for so long, but you were always off-limits” then he removes his pants. They fall to the floor with a thump, the water spatting on the ground. “then you were mine, only mine, but reality struck and I had to let you go” starting to walk towards me in just his boxers. “Then fate thought to bring us together again, and I don’t know how to take my second chance, Jesse. That is why I have been pushing you away. You are too good for me. I am to disastrous for you. But fuck, if I can stay away any longer” he removes his boxers, and lays his body flush with mine.

  He kisses his way down my neck and over my perk nipples. Taking one in his mouth, he twirls his tongue in an agonizing rotation that sends warmth to my pussy. He starts descended until his hot mouth hovers over my sensitive slit.

  “You are the light in my darkness” he states, and licks lightly at the hardened nerves between my legs. He tongues goes in repetitive circles and my body feels like it’s ready to explode. He presses kisses to my thigh and returns to his pursuit.

  “You taste like honey, you are perfect baby” he growls.

  “Oh….”

  “Come for me baby”

  Like my body can come on demand, I feel the fire rising and the shake in ecstasy as I come once again.

  After he laps at my pussy, until my body come down, he rises and places his lips to mine.

  Uncertainty mask his features and bring my hand up and cradle his cheek.

  “I want you, Bane” nervousness taking over, “I want you to be my first”

  He nods and spreads my legs further apart for better access. “this will hurt a little for your first time. Just breath” he aligns his member with my opening and pushes himself into my pussy and through my virginity, a sharp sting erupts but slowly falters as pleasure takes its place. He rolls his hips as he slides in and out of me, wetness from my arousal coating my thigh. I whimper and he stops.

  “Are you okay” he looks on with concern

  “Y-yes don’t stop"

  “Oh fuck, baby” he grunts as he consistently moves to his own rhythm. As if my body has a mind of its own, I start to move with him and I feel myself fading to pleasure.

  He continues his consistent in and out motion, and I continue riding everything he gives me. His hand grabs on my hips as he pulls me into his thrusts. His thumb moves to my clit as he rolls it over the overworked nerves

  “Please. I’m. Coming. “I articulate as my body erupts in spasms. Everything going black as pleasure I have never felt before takes over my senses. As I come down, he rides my orgasm and finds his own. His movements become erratic and when he pulls out and comes on my stomach, groaning in approval, I thank him, wouldn’t want to get pregnant.

  He doesn’t move. Both of us still coming down from the best sexual experience of my life. The only sexual experience of my life. What do I do now? Do I say anything? God, I wish I knew what to do. He brings his hand up and places a soft kiss on my lips as he slowly pulls out of me. I am a little sore, a whimper escapes and he kisses me a little harder.

  He pulls me into him, my chest against his. My head just below his chin. He kisses me on the forehead softly, squeezes me closer to him. I slowly feel exhaustion kick and my eye lids start to flutter closed. Bane’s strong muscular arms pull me into his warmth. Before I fall into the most restful sleep in ages, I hear him whisper into my hair, “You were always mine babygirl, nothing more, nothing less. Mine, and I will never let you go again. I promise.”

  15: Being “Death”

  “You only live twice:

  Once when you are born

  And once when you look death in the face”

  ― Ian Fleming, You Only Live Twice

  Now…

  Jesse Montgomery

  I WANTED IT. I liked how rough he was with me. What is wrong with me? How can I like this depravity? When he whipped me, I felt pleasure in the pain. He said that would happen.

  I decide to play the role, no need in letting him know how much I enjoy his abuse. We are still chest to chest and his hand is tangled in my hair. He leans down and forces my chin so that I am looking at him. I try to shrink back, making myself look fearful.

  “Please” he puts a hand up to stop me.

  “What did I say about those words, say them and I will make this much worse” looking pained. Does he feel bad? Well, then stop right. Why won’t he stop?

  “I’m sorry for what I did, I know you will never forgive me, but please let me go” I beg, “please if you ever had feelings for me, just let me go. If you don’t it was all for nothing. She will come back for you” I tried for the truth. If mother knew Bane was out, she would have him killed.

  He laughs “Who.”

  “Who do you think” I spat, annoyance coating my tone.

  He pulls a stray strand of hair away from my face and twirls it between his thumb and index finger “I always thought you were trustworthy, but turned out you were a conniving, deceitful bitch, so I don�
�t know what to think” he mumbles.

  Ouch. “Mother, Bane” I huff, “She made me do it all. Father wasn’t controlling anything. She was.” That’s why he hated me, a woman already destroyed his life, he wasn’t going to let another take over.

  I close my eyes, remembering what it’s been like the last few years. I have lived on the run. Trying my best to stay off my mother’s radar. She is still in charge of everything. If she catches me, I will be worse off than dead. So, I stay hidden, reclusive. I don’t let people in, because the last person I did, ended up in prison for three years for a crime I committed.

  His eyes darken, “Well even if that was the truth princess, it doesn’t matter” he growls, “your death is bought and paid for, and I always come through.”

  He pulls a knife out, yanks me up and throws me up against the wall, he brings the sharp metal to my throat. This is it. I am going to die, he is going to kill me. I was wrong.

  “Please I’m telling you the truth, I loved you”

  As if I lit a fire in his eyes, they burn with fury. He looks rabid, those words turned something off in him. His voice wasn’t his. He was darker.

  “You kill the ones you love, every time you say those words, you kill them”, he roars, anger rushing off him like a title wave, I shrink back, not an act.

  “I’m sorry”

  “You will be” and he pushes the knife further into my throat, a trickle of blood tickles my skin. A lone tear escapes my bloodshot eyes. A softening gleam appears before it suddenly disappears. He roars in frustration, and I fall to floor with a thump, he turns to punch the wall, blood coating his hand. When he turns back I don’t recognize the person staring back at me. He is a beast. A monster, just like me. He brings the butt of the knife down on the side of my face, knocking me out cold and I slump to the ground. The last thing I hear is his melancholy voice, “You can’t love anyone, not anymore, death doesn’t love anyone.”

  16: The Final Sin

  “There is a charm about the forbidden that makes it unspeakably desirable.”

  ― Mark Twain

  Now…

  Bane Stratus

  I MUST END her. I can’t grow back feelings that should have never been there in the first place. She played me, now I will play her. But why do I keep hesitating. One flick of the wrist, that’s all it would take, and her life would be over. I keep stalling.

  After I knocked her ass out, I tied her around the bar support in the basement. She can stand and sit, but that is about it. She won’t be comfortable when she wakes up, so I decide to leave her there and head up to Tasers, a local bar.

  The bar is quiet and desolate. Which can be hard to find in the bustling city of Detroit. I notion to the bartender and he brings me my usual, Parker Heritage Bourbon, goes for over three thousand dollars a bottle. But I just so happen to have plenty of money from working for the Elite. They keep it around for me, and only me, when I need to get away. They don’t ask questions and I pay them to do just that.

  I down three glasses of the best shit, starting to feel my vision blur. I feel a cold thin hand trickle over my shoulder, and turn with precision despite my inebriation. Cierra. I must be drunk. I haven’t seen her since that day she told me her secret identity. A sly smile stretches across my face. Perfect. I can take advantage of this.

  “Well isn’t this a surprise” I smirk and nod to the chair next to me. She sits and turns towards me; her red lips and overdone make-up is unappealing but forgettable, her lips curl in satisfactions.

  “Here on business” I ask facetiously.

  “Pleasure” she purrs.

  This works for me. I can use Cierra as a release, then go back and take care of my problem without my dick controlling my actions.

  She places her artificially manicured nails on my chest. At least Cierra can admit she is fucked up. Jesse plays the innocent game, like she doesn’t know she is the villain, not the damsel.

  “So, are you going to show me what you got, or are you going to make me work for it” she hisses, “Or is little lady Jesse still pulling the strings”.

  I pull her close, not gently, and she lets out a perfected yelp. Her eyes going wide in a mocked fear. She was always beautiful. That was about it. Her act is practiced, and she knows what I need. Fear. Pain. Everything I want to take from Jesse, but can’t seem to commit.

  “Let’s get out of here” I grumble.

  ✽ ✽ ✽

  I wake up in my bedroom, with no recollection of last night. I slither out of bed and practically drag my ass to the bathroom. I brace myself on the sink, I look at myself in the mirror, and go over the events of last night. I look rough, dark circles encase my eyes, my face is pale and tired. But it doesn’t look like anyone has harvested any of my organs so that’s a bonus. I try to remember drinking more than I normally do, but I had a total of four glasses. For most people that would be a trip to the hospital, but I’m Irish, I knew how to drink most alcoholics under the table at thirteen.

  I can’t remember much from the night before; the feeling bothers me since I have never gotten so drunk that I forget anything. My mind is sharp as a tac. Did she slip me something, is she still working for the remaining Montgomery’s? Is Jesse telling the truth? No, doesn’t matter, she is a job. Only a job.

  I Remember Cierra showing up, but everything after that is a blur. I wash my face with cold water and tread down to kitchen. I pour a cup of coffee, and sit down at the table. Planning my next move. I hear a terrified cry from the basement. She is awake, for how long I am not sure. She must be uncomfortable, in pain, most likely shaking from the agony. I tied her so her arms would tire much faster and the pain would be terrible. I put my cup down and start making my way to the basement. As soon as I turn the corner I see Jesse laying on the floor covered in blood. No longer tied to the pole. Her face beaten and cuts covering her already bruised body. Blood pouring from between her legs. Who did this?

  “What the fuck” she shrinks at the sound of my voice.

  “P-please no more, I can’t take anymore, just kill me”

  What happened last night? What did I do?

  17: How it Feels to Die?

  “What is called a reason for living is also an excellent reason for dying.”

  ― Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus and Other Essays

  Now…

  Jesse Montgomery

  I HAVE BEEN tied to this pole for hours. I know he isn’t here because I heard the door slam few hours ago. My head is throbbing and body is aching from the deserved cruelty, I need to pee, and my stomach is growling from lack of nutrition.

  I truly loved him, still probably do. He was my best friend, my knight in shining armour. We were finally free, then mother fucked it up. She wasn’t who I thought she was, hell, nobody was who I thought they were. Not even Danny.

  The sound of laughter and stuff breaking startles me, and I stand the best I can being tied to a pole. The basement door opens, and light gleams down into the dark basement. Two sets of feet descend the stairs, and the hairs on my arm stand up. Who could be with him? What are they going to do to me? Is he going to share me? No.

  Blonde hair comes into the light and I see who is accompanying Bane on his next assault. Her. The bitch that was at Bane’s house all those years ago. She looks me up and down, and smirks at my appearance. I’m still naked and exposed, but I’m not self-conscious, not anymore. Bane stands behind her noticeably intoxicated, but holding himself up normally. He seems to be somewhere else, someone else completely. I have gotten used to the darker side of Bane, his abusive, angry, vengeful self. But this is completely different. I study his face, he isn’t drunk, he looks drugged? His pupils are dilated and pale in comparison.

  “Hello, little lamb” Cierra hisses as she worships my condition.

  “W-what is going on” I look to Bane, in hopes he reveals something. But he remains stoic and unmoving.

  She pulls her arm back and slaps me across the face, Bane laughs at her violent attach and
comes and joins her.

  He pulls a hair from my face and rolls it between his fingers.

  “Time to scream, princess” he smarts.

  He drops my hair and wraps a hand around my throat. Cierra smirks. Bitch. I kick my legs, trying to get lose.

  Bane grabs me by the waist and stares into my eyes, not being able to discern what he is communicating.

  “Bane” I whisper. He smiles and steps away.

  Cierra pulls a knife out from her back pocket and walks towards me, she brings it to my stomach and slices shallow cuts across my belly. I scream in agony; the next one is much deeper. She is drawing something on my stomach and each cut hurt worse than the last. I feel the blood drain down my legs, as she continues to explore my flesh with the sharp metal. All the while, Bane is circling the scene, seeming to try and get the best angle. Cierra stops her slashing and Bane unties my binds, he drops me to the ground. I curl into a ball trying to protect myself. Cierra cackles a witching laugh. Bane watches on, not seeming to feel anything at my demise.

  The blunt force of a shoe into my ribs causes me to lose my position, her heel rips into my abdomen, as each blow connects with other parts of my body. I am covered in blood and painful black and blue splotches already appear on my broken body. I hear bones cracking as she steps on my hand with her heel

  , I scream for help, but none comes.

  “Stop please, STOP” I beg, but they fall on deaf ears.

  “Stop what?” she mocks.

  He pulls my body so that I’m lying on my back and grabs a cylinder prod. I try to pull away, but small dainty hands wrap around my wrist, she is holding me down for whatever he is going to do to me. He smiles an evil gleam, he switches a button on the tool, electricity courses at the tip, he places it to my stomach and presses the button, volatile spasm wrack my body, causing bile to rise in my throat. I lean as much as I can and acid spills from my mouth. Cierra jumps up to miss the stream and kicks me in the side as punishment.