by TM Frazier
“Oh, I can give you what you need,” Preppy growled, pinning me to the wall with his hips. His erection hard against my lower stomach, taking me off guard. My pulse spiked with fear, then fell with disappointment. “But no fucking H.” He ground his hips against me, his hardness taking me off guard. I pushed against his shoulder, but I might as well have been attempting to lift a car because he only held me tighter.
“Why? Why won’t you help me? You can help me! You said we were friends. Friends help each other, right? And this is how you can help me.” His stare grew more intense, which infuriated me because he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he let me cry and wail and pound my fists against him. “Why won’t you help me!” I screamed. My throat was tight and sore. “Pleeeaaassssse!” My yell turning into a sob. “I don’t want it,” I cried, my head falling back against the wall. “I don’t.” I shook my head. “But I don’t know how to stop the bleeding and make the pain go away. I don’t know how to dull the edge that makes me want to scratch off my skin without running back to that house and sticking a needle in my arm.” I met his furious dark eyes. Preppy’s body as unyielding as his drilling stare. “So, pleeeeeaaassse,” I cried, bouncing slightly on my knees as I begged. I covered his gun with my other hand. “Please help me.”
I don’t know if it was me touching his gun, or the begging that did it, but the spark was back, glistening wickedly in his eyes. His pupils grew large. He licked his bottom lip and ground his hips against me. I gasped, my blood turned red hot. I instantly regretted everything I’d said. He rocked his knee against my core and a flush of wetness soaked through my panties. I didn’t want this, there was too much going on in my head. Too much to sift through and process, but my body didn’t seem to care about what I wanted, because my nipples tightened under my tank top. “Do you trust me?”
My brain wanted heroin.
My body wanted Preppy.
“No,” I answered honestly, my chest heaving from fear and anxiety and anticipation. “I don’t trust you.”
He pulled his gun back and turned it over in his hands, examining it as the moonlight glinted off the metal. He smirked. “That’s good, Doc.” He leaned in close, his beard bristling against my cheek, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot behind my ear as he spoke. “You shouldn’t,” he said as he held the barrel of his gun to my head.
Finger on the trigger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
PREPPY
“You wouldn’t.”
“You want to die that can be arranged, but don’t be a pussy about it and use the heroin excuse to end it when you can man up and I can just pull the trigger and it will all be over.”
“That’s not what I want!” she said, and instead of fear her anger boiled over. Her face turned red. Regardless of my gun to her head or not, she drilled me with her stare.
Good girl.
I pulled her off the wall by her shoulder and shoved her further into the cemetery. She stumbled on one of the overgrown roots the place is full of, bracing her fall on a lopsided tombstone. “What are you doing?” she asked over her shoulder, her words shaky, fear in her eyes. She was bent over at the waist, arms stretched over her head, her hands gripping the stone as she gulped to catch her breath. The bottoms of her ass cheeks teased me from right under the hemline of her shorts.
“Giving you what you want.” I paused. “No, what you need.”
“What is it that you think I need?” she asked, the fear turning to unbridled lust when she realized I was staring at her denim covered pussy.
I chuckled, yanking her back by her jet-black hair tangling in my fingers. I licked the side of her face and pushed my hard cock into the seam of her ass. “You want to be high? You can be high on me. You want to take the edge off? I’m gonna do just that, baby.”
I flipped her over and brought her to the edge of the stone, keeping her in place by pulling tight on her hair when she tried to wrestle away from me. All her struggles stopped when I ran my hand up the inside of her thigh, into her shorts, grazing her soaking wet pussy. I groaned and tamed down the voice inside my head that wanted to take her right then and there. This wasn’t about me. This was about Dre. This was about teaching her a lesson. I worried about taking it too far again. About scaring her off. But those thoughts disappeared the second I pushed a finger inside her tight heat and her head fell back and her mouth partially opened. Her eyes closed. “No, you look at me while I fuck you with my fingers,” I commanded, forcing her head forward so she had no choice but to look at me right in my eyes as I added another finger. With my gun still against her head, her hips bucked against me as I brought her closer and closer to the edge. I heard footsteps and laughter but couldn’t care less if we were caught. All that mattered was Dre and that look in her eyes, like she wanted me and hated me all at the same time. My cock was rock fucking hard and as I pumped my fingers into her over and over again she moaned and cried out. Again, she tried to look away, but again I tightened my grip on her hair and forced her to look at me with those big, beautiful, dark eyes of hers that always seemed like they were looking right inside of my head.
“So what? This is some kind of sick lesson you’re trying to teach me?” she asked breathlessly. Her pussy clenched around my fingers, milking them, wanting more than I was giving. I pumped faster, hooking my index finger inside of her. “You think making me…come is going to make everything better?” she asked bitterly, a stammer in her words.
“Who said I wanted to make anything better?” I asked, running my nose along her neck and biting down on her earlobe, inhaling her vanilla scent. “Maybe I just want to be the one to ruin you,” I said, against her skin. With one last thrust of my fingers her pussy clamped down, and she cried out into the night with my suspenders twisted around her hands. I didn’t know if she was trying to pull me closer or push me away. Her wetness dripping down my fingers as she rode out her climax. Her head fell forward against my shoulder. “I can’t keep you,” I whispered into her hair, echoing the voice inside my head, reminding me of the same thing over and over again since the day I brought Dre back to Mirna’s.
“I’m not yours to keep,” Dre spat bitterly between heavy breaths. Her words may have been harsh, but she didn’t move her head from my shoulder.
“No,” I said, pulling my hands out from her shorts and licking her taste from my fingers. Finally, lowering my gun. “But this pussy is all mine.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
DRE
I was just coming down from my orgasm when it occurred to me that we weren’t alone. The sound of grass rustling and whispers floated over the air from somewhere nearby. I lifted my head from Preppy’s shoulder. “Stay here,” he ordered in a whisper. With his finger on the trigger, he turned around, stepping over roots and headstones before disappearing behind the mausoleum.
The sounds of angry shouts burst from where Preppy had just gone and before I could think about what I was doing, I was running in that direction until I came upon Preppy, the barrel of his gun against someone else’s head. Someone with his chin on his chest and a needle hanging from his arm. The girl who invited me into the house was standing next to him, crying for Preppy not to shoot him.
“He owe you money or something?” the girl asked, her words slurring together, her steps faltering. She grabbed onto a headstone for support. There was no real concern in her voice. “What did Eric dooo to you?”
That’s when I knew what I’d seen in the house was real. It was Eric.
“How?” I asked, taking a step back and tripping over a root. Falling onto my ass. Preppy and the girl turned to me, and Preppy took a step toward me. “No, no,” I said, standing up on my own. Just then, Eric lifted his head and his glazed over eyes met mine.
“Hey Dre,” he said. “I knew you’d come back.” Preppy took a step back to him and smacked him in the head with the barrel of his gun, sending him back into unconsciousness. The girl started screaming, but it was as if I couldn’t hear her over the blood rushing
in my ears. Over the questions. Preppy had lied to me. He hadn’t killed Eric.
Preppy made a move toward me, but the girl jumped on his back with a high-pitched screech. I left him to fight her off as I took off through the cemetery answering my own question as I ran.
Conner.
Conner was dead.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
PREPPY
I’m in so much fucking trouble.
Dre knew it was Conner I killed and not Eric. She probably hated me even more now, as if she needed more reasons to. Yet none of that mattered because regardless of how she felt, regardless of how I should’ve felt, the pure primal need to shove my cock deep inside her frail body was like nothing I’d ever experienced before in my entire fucking life.
Yup, so much fucking trouble.
After what had happened in the cemetery I was sure of one thing.
I didn’t just want to fuck her. I wanted to ruin her.
By the time I shook off the spider-junkie, Dre was gone. I searched everywhere before finally finding her in the first place I should have looked. In Mirna’s backyard. That’s where I found her lying in the grass, scribbling furiously away in a notebook.
I took a moment to admire her. I was glad I stopped her from shooting up but for a reason I couldn’t begin to explain I was fucking FURIOUS that she even wanted to. She’d just gotten over the most severe part of her withdrawals, the shakes fading to slight tremors. Her bruises had faded from angry purples, blacks, to pale yellows, but after I found her at that house I realized how rough of shape she was still in.
Too rough.
God damn it. She was fucking perfect. Flaws and all.
She’d gained weight, enough for her ass and tits to become all curvy and touchable. I should just fuck her and get it over with, but I still needed her help more than I needed a quick fuck.
I adjusted myself, trying to shift my dick so it wouldn’t be so painful, but it was pointless as it strained against my unyielding zipper. Getting my cock to go down now would be like talking a lion out of his dinner, when he already had the lamb in his mouth.
Dre had the same constant sad look about her as she stared up into the cloudless sky. I felt downright feral and was overcome with a need to possess her, OWN her—even if only temporarily.
Even if it was just for tonight.
My throbbing cock agreed.
I watched her profile as she bit down on the end of her pen, deep in thought. She might have been fragile in body and spirit, but her mouth…her mouth was an entirely different story. Cocky, snarky. Maybe it was the contrast between that bold attitude and her weakness that had me imagining all the things that mouth could do if she were on her knees looking up at me.
She paused her pen and was staring up at the stars. With her back to me she sat up on her knees, her t-shirt rode up on her, exposing her concave stomach and a flash of white cotton panties, the outline of her pussy lips clearly visible through the thin fabric. I palmed my aching cock through my pants and mentally reminded myself that it wasn’t a good idea to come in my pants like some fucking kid.
I couldn’t stay away anymore. Whether she hated me or not… There was no staying away. Not anymore.
Dre didn’t see me coming as I stepped out of the wooded backyard and into the light.
She wouldn’t see me until it was too late.
I shouldn’t fuck her.
I knew I shouldn’t.
But I’m going to anyway…
I came up behind her and peered over her shoulder as she’s yet again scribbling away in the notebook. That’s when I realized she was crying. Her shoulders were shaking and the ink on the page is smeared with her tears…and her blood. A small razor blade in her hand as small droplets of red fell from her wrist and onto the pages of her letter to someone named, Mellie.
My blood was full on boiling, anger taking over running operation Preppy where lust had just left off when I read the next sentence.
Mellie, I’m so sorry. I can’t go on like this. I won’t. I think I’m ready for it to all be over. This time for good….
After everything, she still wanted to die?
A growl tore from my throat. I gnashed my teeth together, leaning over I ripped the notebook out from under her. She yelped in surprise, but I ignored her. I was dragging her through the back gate into the field before she could utter a single word in protest.
“What are you doing?” she asked, tumbling under my grip. I continued to pull her along side of me through the field.
“You’ll see,” I spat, venom in my usually happy voice.
“Fuck you. Get off of me. You killed him! You killed Conner!” she yelled. “Why? Why didn’t you just leave me there to die when that’s clearly what you want?” Dre asked, her eyes narrowed at me, her posture tight.
“You want to know why I killed him? I’ll fucking tell you why. I pumped three bullets into that motherfucker’s chest because he was touching you, trying to ruin you…” I searched her eyes and ran the backs of my fingers across her cheek. “I was jealous,” I admitted.
“Why?” she asked, anger and confusion marring her beautiful face.
“Why? Because, if anyone is going to ruin you, it’s going to be me.”
“You’re sick,” she spat.
“Oh, Doc. You have no fucking idea,” I said, tightening my grip on her arm. “He hurt you, and he paid for it.”
“You are hurting me!” Dre screamed. I dug my fingers harder into her skin.
“So make me pay.”
“I don’t want this. I don’t want you,” she said, sounding like she was arguing with herself instead of me.
“You have a sick need to kill yourself. I’m going to help you with that.” I lowered my voice to a deep growl. “Meanwhile I have my own sick needs I think you might be able to help me with.”
“No! I hate you,” she spat, as I continued to tug her beside me.
“Good, you can hate me while I fuck you,” I said. “But first things first. My lesson obviously didn’t take in that brain of yours. You want what you want and I can’t stop you,” I said, as we approached the train tracks which were elevated on a mound of gravel several feet off the ground. The warning lights flashed orange, the neon reflective barriers dropped down to cover the service road, while the bells indicating an approaching train clanged away. “And since I can’t stop you, I’m going to help you out. Bullet in the head was so three hours ago. I’ve got something even better in mind now.”
“Wait. What?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “You…you wouldn’t.”
“Wouldn’t what?” I said, turning around to face her, almost losing my footing when I noticed the trail of dried tears on her cheeks. I looked away for a fraction of a second to regain my composure. “You think I wouldn’t kill someone?” I cocked an eyebrow. “You already know that I’ve been there, done that, bought the motherfucking t-shirt, doll.” Her eyes went wide and she made a move to step back. “Oh no, Doc, I read your letter and I saw what you wanted. And remember, I’m nothing if not accommodating.”
When I pulled her to climb the gravel mound her knees locked up so I bent over and picked her up by the waist, tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her onto the tracks while she beat on my back with her closed fists. When I got to the top I set her down roughly and she fell backwards onto her ass, bracing herself with her hands against the large pieces of gravel under the tracks.
The whistle of the train blew in the distance. It wouldn’t be long now. Dre made a move to stand up, but that wasn’t what I had in mind. I bent down and pushed on her chest, spreading her tiny frame across the tracks. I crawled on top of her, pinning her down with my thighs. I leaned over her, my chest to hers as we both breathed rapidly. She struggled underneath me to get up, pushing at my chest, but I wouldn’t budge. “Why the struggle, Doc? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”
She glanced up at me as the train whistled again. Her gaze flipped to her right, where the single yellow light from
the train emerged from around the corner, shining brighter and brighter as it chugged closer and closer. For a moment she stopped struggling, looking back and forth from the train to me.
“So what, you’re gonna die too?” she asked, hoping to appeal to my sense of self preservation.
I shrugged. “I get bored easily, maybe the devil will make me his errand boy or something.”
“Preppy, this isn’t funny. Get up and get off the fucking tracks,” she said, her concern shifting from herself to me.
I shook my head and yawned. She wiggled underneath me, and although there was a train barreling toward us my cock once again stirred to life. Maybe I should just rip down her panties and push inside of her. Train or no train, it would be one fuck of a way to go out.
“You have to choose, Doc,” I said, making my voice as serious as I was capable. “Life?” I asked, screaming over the sound of the train screeching against the track. I pushed my hard cock against her core and she gasped. Her trembling turned into a shiver, her mouth fell open. I glanced to the side at the blinding light of the approaching train as it bathed us both in a tunnel of light. I leaned down, so close that my lips were a whisper above hers, as I shouted, “Life? Or death? What’s it gonna be, Doc?” My hair blew around my face as the light grew brighter and brighter. “Answer the fucking question!” I demanded, my hands squeezing her shoulders, my fingers digging roughly into her skin. “DO YOU WANT TO FUCKING DIE?”
With only seconds left until we became shredded under the train, Dre closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again they were glistening, fresh tears spilling from the edges.
She started to speak, her lips forming the beginning of the word, but before it could fully leave her lips I stood, pulling her up with me. I lifted Dre into my arms and took a running leap off the tracks, my legs flailing in the air as we fell the seven or so feet. Dre’s decision still on her lips, her scream surrounding the air around us as we crashed down into the field.
