Mr. X

by Clarissa Wild

  I gnash my teeth, trying to bite her. She withdraws and chuckles.

  “It was this or killing you. You know why we can’t let this go.” She raises the fire iron. “An eye for an eye.”

  And with those last words she sears my right eye. My lungs can’t handle the screams that come from my body, the air that expands my chest so fast it feels like I’m bursting apart. My skin is on fire. Being stabbed doesn’t compare to this. I can feel my warm blood flowing down my face. Closing my eye is no use. Red turns to black and soon everything is gone. My screams are ignored as she continues to carve me. It stings so badly that I want to cry with the eye I no longer have.

  I’m in between fading in and out of consciousness, and at that moment I’m suddenly aware of the silence surrounding me, filling my head. It prepares me for the burden I have to carry, the hatred that has been scorched into my skin. I will make them pay.

  When she’s done with her savage attack, she steps back and takes a look. She’s admiring her work. I gaze up at her with my one working eye, a small slit I can barely keep open, but I refuse to give up. I reject weakness. I will survive this, even if it costs me everything.

  Frowning and clenching my teeth, I look up at her, seething. Pain runs through my veins, but I ignore it completely. Fury has taken over my soul. “What have you done to me?” I hiss.

  “What you did to us. You scarred us for life. I returned the gift to you.”

  My father signals the men. He doesn’t even look at me. “Take him away.”

  “I’ll kill you for this!” I scream. I jerk around, but my strength is waning. I can’t fight the ropes anymore. The blood and pain have taken their toll on me.

  “You’ll never see us again, never hear from us again, you’ll never be welcome here again,” my father says.

  “Goodbye,” my mother says as she wipes the poker on a white cloth.

  I keep my eye solely on them as I’m dragged out of the mansion. When the doors close I lose my will to fight. The pain has taken its toll on me. For a moment everything fades and turns to black. As I slip in and out of consciousness I feel like minutes have passed. I’m still being hauled, although I have no idea where. They take me to a forest, far, far away from anywhere, where they throw me into the snow, chair and all.

  Their footsteps are the last thing I hear before there is only nothingness. Flakes of snow fall on my face, and I welcome the cool it brings to my withered skin. This place, in all its serenity, is a perfect resting place for a screwed-up person like me.

  However, I won’t surrender to this cold, to this pain, to impending death. I will survive. I will conquer and slay them. The promise I make to myself fuels the spark of life left inside me. One day I will come for their lives. I will be the devil that guides them to hell.

  ***

  Jay

  Saturday, September 14th, 2013. 10:40 a.m.

  Frozen, I stand there, shivering in the rain. Goose bumps scatter on my body as my lips part and my mouth is left hanging. The shovel drops from my hand; the sound of metal falling to the ground is loud in the silence of the night. I’m speechless.

  Rain drips down his face, running through the grooves in his skin, the lines of his scars even more visible than before. The light of the moon casts an eerie darkness on one side of his face as well as light on the other.

  Two conflicting emotions weave their way into my heart: disgust and pity. X’s fingers curl up into a fist as he slams his mouth shut. We’re both at a loss for words. The silence is killing me. I can’t believe what I just heard. I don’t even know what to say.

  “Your parents?” I mutter.

  He nods and frowns, cracking his knuckles.

  “Holy shit …”

  “You could say that again,” he scoffs.

  “But … why? What did you do?”

  He purses his lips and then marches toward me. Panicking, I back up into a tree, but fail to move past it. He’s right in front of me, seething, his nostrils flaring. His stare feels like it penetrates my skull.

  “You.”

  I suck in a short breath. “What do you mean?”

  Smashing his lips together, he looks down at the ground and sighs, closing his eyes. “You don’t fucking remember.” As he looks back at me, I’m shaken to my core. The way he gazes at me, like I’m his weakness, is unsettling. Not because I’m scared, but because I’ve never seen this before.

  Or maybe I have.

  Without thinking, my hand lifts to meet his face. He tentatively moves his head away, but still not enough to prevent my hand from touching him. As I place my hand on his face, he winces; his chest suddenly stops heaving from anger. I feel his scars, the ridges and dents on his eye. My fingers move to touch every crevice, every painful memory, all the pain and agony seared into his skin. This is what they did to him. They made him the monster he is today.

  His hands reach up and grab my head. He leans in, placing his forehead against mine as he looks deep into my eyes.

  “Remember,” he says, his voice thick with lingering emotions. “Remember, little bird, remember!”

  His voice. This touch. It rips everything apart, leaving pieces of the puzzle on the play board. And now I assemble them one by one. Memories of the past and present mix together until I can no longer form a coherent thought. Pictures and images of a past me spin through my head. A past with him.

  I know him. I always knew him.

  “The heart that truly loves never forgets.” – Thomas Moore

  Chapter 22

  Jay

  November 3rd, 2006

  I’m in the back of the office, pretending not to be here, so I don’t get noticed. My father ordered me to be in this room, because he wants me to meet the new people who will be keeping us safe. It’s not necessarily because he thinks my life is in jeopardy; more because he wants to keep an eye on me. I couldn’t care less about all that. If it wasn’t for the fact that he took my allowance I wouldn’t even be here in the first place. I’d be off partying with my friends, drinking booze until we’re passed out drunk. It’s safe to say I don’t like wearing dresses and pretending to be a nice girl. Especially not when my father bosses me around. I’m sixteen years old; I can decide for myself who I want to be and what I want to look like.

  “Jay.” The way he calls out my name makes it sound like an insult. I know he hates it. Not just my name, but me too. There’s a reason I was named Jay; my father would have preferred a boy. Boys are so much better at politics. Women are only good to keep the men company. I’m not exaggerating; this is truly him in a nutshell.

  “Tuck that frizz behind your ear. And pat down your dress, you look like a mess,” he says gruffly.

  “Yes, Father,” I sigh.

  “And do something about that attitude. We can’t have that.”

  “They’re only guards.”

  “They’re not just guards.” He coughs and clears his throat. “These people have worked for me before and I demand their utmost respect. I need you to look and act your best. I will not have them see you and lose respect for me. You will behave like a lady.”

  “You mean like a robot.”

  He briefly throws me a look, and then continues pacing around the room. “You are to listen carefully and introduce yourself properly.” He walks to his desk and sits down on his black leather chair. “And if you do anything, I swear to God I will take everything from you for a month, and by everything I do mean everything.”

  I swallow, letting the threat sink in. I don’t want to lose my internet, my access to the outside world, my friends, all my connections and fun. Everything means being locked up in a cold tower here … well, not literally, but it’s still boring as hell and not fun at all. Of course, this is coming from past experience. I’ve never been on good terms with my father. Somehow I always struggle to do as he says. Maybe it’s because he never gave me a good reason to do what he wants. There’s nothing in it for me. Not even a shred of love.

  There is a knock on
the door, and our butler enters the room. “Sir, their car just arrived. Shall I escort them in?”

  “Yes, yes, and bring them to my office immediately.”

  “Right, sir.”

  The butler tiptoes off again, while my father spends his time checking out his suit and combing what’s left of his hair. He looks tired. His cheekbones seem even more hollow than before I got caught kissing a boy at a party. It’s as if each time he catches me doing something I’m not supposed to, he ages a few years.

  My playing, teasing, and reckless fun bring him shame. His shame makes me want to run, tease people, and have free-spirited fun. It’s a never-ending circle of disappointment in one another. My father has always tried to mold me into one of his perfect shapes, and I never was what he wanted me to be. I’m not a leader, I’m not calm and assertive. I’m not kind and sweet. I’m everything he never wanted, and because of that I rebel.

  I sigh from the jumble of thoughts, but then my father’s guests enter the room and I stiffen. A few men and one woman walk into the room. They’re all in suits, except for her. In her high heels and long red dress she looks like a superstar on the red carpet. Her hair is tucked in a bun, and she has a beautiful birthmark on her upper lip. She briefly glances at me, striking me down with just a look. It’s like a thunder strike, so bold, so swift, and deadly.

  The men are equally as scary. With their shiny black shoes and clean-fitting tuxes they look like gentlemen, but they reek of evil. Power. Fear. It’s their trademark. One look is all it takes to know they mean business.

  My father steps away from his desk and holds out his hand, shaking theirs.

  “We meet again …” my father says.

  “We are delighted to have you as our client. You’ve made a good decision to hire us again.”

  “Don’t make me regret it this time,” my father says, eyeing me when he does. I feel creeped out by all of this.

  “We will make sure of it.”

  “So long as you keep that boy out of it and away from us.”

  “We will, I promise you that.”

  “Great,” my father says.

  They talk some more, but I don’t pay attention, because I’m taken by dread. These people make my skin crawl and the hair on my back stand up. Especially the way they seem to move around the room, so cautiously, so painstakingly aware of everything surrounding them. They’re like hawks circling above the land, narrowing in on their prey before launching a vicious and calculated attack.

  Are these the people my father hired to protect us? He must be insane. There’s no way they can protect anyone. I bet they’d kill them first.

  When I notice someone else standing in the hallway, hidden in the shadow, my breathing stops, and I think my heart does too, even if it is only for one second. A guy with hair as black as night is waiting outside. Someone I remember.

  ***

  Saturday, September 14th, 2013. 10:40 a.m.

  That someone was him.

  Memories come flooding back in like a never-ending wave.

  The boy at the party with his raven black hair came to work for my father. The killings were his family’s doings. The boy I can’t get out of my mind.

  He knew me all along.

  ***

  Saturday, December 6th, 2008. 10:13 p.m.

  I can’t take my lips off him. He’s so damn delicious. I’ve never kissed someone like this before. Sure, I’ve had plenty of boys and guys, but not someone like him. He’s a man. Someone who knows how to handle a girl. His kisses are rough and his little bites make me moan. I love how he nibbles on me, taking more and more of me, like he can’t get enough of me either.

  The lights in the hallway cast a gloomy light on him. His damp skin glows, drops of sweat dripping down his beautiful body. He’s ripped and covered in tats, and I love running my hands down his chest. He groans in my mouth as I unbutton his shirt and slide my hands up his buffed chest.

  “Fuck …” he whispers against my mouth. Hungry for more, he probes my mouth with his tongue, claiming me completely. I love how he just takes what he wants and owns it, no questions asked. After years of teasing and flirting back and forth, I’ve finally got him. He’s all mine.

  “You’re such a fucking bad girl, Jay,” he growls, biting my lip.

  I moan when he drags his lips down my neck and sucks on my skin, leaving a red mark. The sizzle that accompanies the pain makes my clit thump with desire. God, I’m such a slut. I love it.

  He comes back up and plants his lips on mine again, kissing me hard and rough. My lips are red and swollen when he suddenly stops and looks at me from under his dark lashes.

  “Yeah … I think you’ve had enough,” he says, a devilish smile appearing on his face.

  “No, give me more,” I say, pulling him closer again. He leans back, preventing me from kissing him.

  “No.”

  “Oh, c’mon, stop fighting it.”

  “These nightly adventures should stop here.”

  “No. Why should they?”

  I wrap my arms around his neck, but he grabs my wrists and takes them off again. A loud groan slips across his tongue when I steal another kiss. I grin.

  “Because we’ll get caught. You’ve been seducing me in your house, for fuck’s sake. It can’t get any more dangerous than that.”

  “Who cares …?”

  “I’d like to keep my balls intact, thanks.”

  I giggle, pecking him on the jaw, dragging my lips sideways. “But I want you,” I murmur close to his ear. “Take me.”

  His grip on my wrists tightens and he pushes me up against the wall. “You’re a slut. You let yourself be fucked by any man and you don’t fucking care. So why should I?”

  “They’re nothing,” I say. “I don’t want them. I just wanted their attention.”

  “And why would it be any different with me?” He purses his lips. “You’re a seductress, Jay, but you look to me for all the wrong reasons.”

  I push my chest forward, showing him how taut my nipples already are through my top, desperation taking over. I need love. I need his love. It’s my drug.

  “I look to you because you’re the only one who can give me what I want.”

  He squints. “You can get this anywhere. I’m not going to be your plaything and risk everything.” He smirks. “I stole a couple of kisses from you, but that’s as far as it goes.”

  “What you do … I want it. You can give me something no one else can. I need it.” I lick my lips, thinking of all the dirty things I’ve seen. Things I shouldn’t have seen, but can’t forget. Who’d have thought that sneaking around would let me witness such a hot scene.

  “You don’t, trust me,” he says.

  “Do me like you do them,” I say, cocking my head.

  His eyes widen.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen what you did to those girls. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

  “You’ve been watching me?”

  I smile cheekily. “I might have stumbled upon a nice fucking session at the beach while I was taking a stroll … I couldn’t help myself.”

  “A stroll? You? No. You followed me.” Shaking his head, he laughs. “You’re a dirty girl, you know that, Jay?”

  Biting my lip, I say, “I want to be yours. I want to feel what it’s like to be claimed.”

  With half-mast eyes he looks at me, his gaze drifting down my chest. “This body of yours can’t handle me. It’s not trained for pain.”

  “Try me,” I retort. “I think you’ll find I’m very flexible.”

  He leans in, his hands firmly planted on top of mine. His smell is intoxicating as he plants a kiss on my neck, right below my ear. “I like your courage, Jay, but when I do a girl I want to know I’m the only one.”

  Shuddering from his dark voice, I get close to his ear and whisper, “You are. Every time I fuck them, I think of you. Only you. I don’t want them.” His head tilts back to look me straight in the eye. He licks his lips and sucks on them. He’s so very clo
se to me, I could lean in and kiss him, but I know that’s not what he wants. Not yet.

  “I’ve been dreaming it’s you all along. I fuck them and imagine it’s you. Every. Single. Time.” With my eyes I dare him. I dare him to take the leap and just fucking go for it. I’ve been waiting for it for so long. Now that I’m old enough to decide for myself, nothing stands in our way.

  He releases my wrists, his hands drifting down my arms to my ass. My jeans stand no match against his tough hands. He grabs me so tight I squeal. “Shhh …” he whispers, his eyes playful. God, so sexy.

  He plants a kiss on my neck, making me moan, but then it turns into a bite, and I’m shocked. I shut my mouth to prevent another squeal from escaping. I’m also fucking turned on. He just bit me, and I love it.

  His hand leaves my ass cheek and then suddenly comes down fast and hard. His other hand quickly moves over my mouth, soaking up the sounds I make.

  “You want this?” he says gruffly, rubbing my ass. His hand leaves my mouth and slides down my chest, grasping my breast firmly. I moan as he massages it and then dips into my shirt. My panties are completely soaked when he starts playing with my nipple and pulls it. But then he tugs so hard it makes me gasp.

  “I’m not nice, Jay. This is just foreplay. The real deal starts when I have you in bed. Hard. Painful. Raw. Fuck.” His tongue dips out to lick the seam of my mouth. An overload of sensations hit me when a rumbling sound comes from deep within his chest. So primal. Full of lust.

  I’m anxious for more.

  He groans. “I’ll make you do things you don’t expect. You’ll do things to please me, and only me, and I don’t take no for an answer. Do you know what this means?”

  I nod, shaking as he spreads my legs with just his feet.

  “You don’t,” he murmurs. “But I’ll tell you. The girls I tie up don’t have a safeword. They can’t escape. I’m not fucking good to them. On the contrary, I use them for my own pleasure. I take and take until I’m satisfied. I fuck them so hard they can’t stand for days. I take their breath, literally. I fill them up with my cum until they can taste it in their throats. After I’m done, they thank me for everything. And do you know what else?”