His warm hand sends an electrical current through my body that I can’t ignore. My skin tingles from his touch, desperate for more. A night ago he spanked me so hard it made me beg for his cum. The way he whipped me with his belt and wrapped his red tie around my wrists had me delirious. Especially when he fingered me to an explosive orgasm. God, I can still feel it burn. The pain seared into my ass delights me. Is it so wrong to like it?
I turn my gaze toward X. In his eye I see sorrow and regret, things I shouldn’t see, but do. I can’t escape his penetrating stare. Can’t escape the memories I share with him. All those moments in time when I truly cared for him and wanted him to be near me. Even now, I still cling to him. I never lost that attraction. These last passionate nights have only made it worse. I might’ve won his heart, but I already lost the fight. He’s claimed mine too.
***
Wednesday, September 18th, 2013. 10:11 a.m.
We enter a shady building in the middle of town. Paint is crusted on the walls inside, the lights flicker on and off, and the banisters almost fall off as we walk upstairs.
“Why are we here?” I ask as we reach an old door.
“To meet someone,” he says.
“Yeah, but why did I have to come?”
He smiles. “Because I want my little bird around wherever I go. Whisper sweet things in my ear, Jay, wherever we are.” He licks his lips. “I’ll reward you greatly.”
A shiver courses through my body as he runs his finger up and down my arm. He smiles and turns toward the door.
X rings the doorbell and takes his gun from his holster. The metal no longer scares me. My mind knows it won’t be used against me. He’ll only use it against others to protect me. Why that doesn’t bother me still eludes me.
A scrawny blond dude with a cap on opens the door. He squints when he sees us. “I thought you were coming alone?”
“Plan’s changed.”
X steps inside, nodding at me over his shoulder. It’s a silent demand for me to follow him, and I do what he wants. X takes off both of our coats and places them on a table beside the door. Looking around, I gasp. The apartment’s filled with computers and gadgets and all kinds of stuff I have no clue about. Loads and loads of equipment and buttons are on the desk opposite the door, including dozens of screens. I wonder why we’re here.
“Name’s Dale,” the guy says as he grabs my hand and shakes it. “Nice to meet you.”
X growls, which makes Dale jittery. He immediately lets go of my hand and clears his throat.
“Did you get in yet?” X asks as we walk further inside.
The guy sits down on a leather chair in front of the computers. “Yes, in fact, I’m almost done with the transfer. All I need is the right signature.”
“Transfer?” I ask.
“Yeah, we’re transferring all the money from—”
“That’s enough, Dale,” X says gruffly. “I don’t pay you for your mouth. Now get on it. I want it done now.”
I frown, looking at the two staring at the screen. They’re doing something I’m not supposed to know about, according to X. Why else would he shut him up so quickly?
I step closer, trying not to make a sound, and peer over Dale’s shoulder. What I discover pulls me apart and puts me back together like an unraveled string weaved back into place in just one second.
My father’s name.
His bank account.
Money.
All the pieces come falling into place.
Gasping, I slap my hand in front of my mouth and back away slowly, tripping over a box. I manage to catch myself on a shelf, but not before X’s eye finds me.
“What are you doing?” he asks.
For a moment I’m baffled, but then I realize I have to pretend like I didn’t see a thing. “I fell. I wasn’t looking,” I stammer.
“You sure you’re okay?” he asks, raising a brow.
“Yeah, yeah … go on,” I say, laughing a bit. It’s totally fake, but he turns his head anyway. Guess I never forgot how to fake my way through things.
Swallowing, I look around the room. I feel naked. Vulnerable. Not here. What I saw was real, and I fight to make myself believe. I cannot let this pass. Live, Jay, live. See with your eyes, not with your heart. X has blinded you all this time.
I rush to his coat, careful not to make a sound, and rummage in the pockets. My fingers tremble as I take out his cell phone. My first instinct is to call for help, but I can’t stop wanting to snoop through his messages. I don’t trust him. Each time I press a button, I check to make sure X isn’t looking, and then go back to scrolling. Names pile up, but those I recognize I press. I find a man named Antonio and his job for X: killing me. Pictures of me pop up under a contract that was signed with the name Al John. The same name I saw on the television. That man I recognized. The news channels said he was killed the night X came back bloody. Fuck, I was right.
Scrolling further, I find the name of the man who sold me drugs. My hands shake violently as I read the texts. There were many, even from a few years ago. X gave him the job to get me on the drugs. It’s in here, over and over again. He kept asking for it, kept paying this man. These texts tell the truth.
And as I scroll further, I find more horrible truth in his lies. Hannah. He had her introduce me to the drug dealer. He had her bring me into the club. He told her to make me a whore.
And then I find a text between them that was sent the night X came to kill me, which says:
Tell him to fuck her hard until she screams for mercy.
They’re talking about Billy. Hannah told me he wanted to fuck me.
But it wasn’t her idea. It was X’s.
Tears trickle down my cheeks. The last messages that were sent between X and all these people … were right before he burst into my motel room and killed Billy.
He set me up.
He wasn’t lying when he said he followed me. He put everything into motion that got me swallowed into the abyss. X got me hooked on drugs thanks to my dealer, he got me into the whoring, and he even got Billy to rough me up.
The realization hits me like a fucking brick to the face.
“No …” I stammer.
I don’t want to believe it, but it’s true. It’s all in here. These are no lies. This is reality. These texts speak the truth.
He planned everything.
“You …” I say.
From the corner of my eye I see X turn toward me, his eyebrows knitting together.
“You lied to me,” I utter, raising his mobile phone to show it to him.
His eyes widen.
“You ruined me. You ruined everything!” I yell. Then I turn around and run out the door as fast as I can.
It takes him a while to come after me. I guess he didn’t expect me to bolt. As if I would fucking stay after reading all that. As if I would fucking forgive him for betraying me. Like he could get away with making me suffer through the years.
When I asked him if he’d had his fill of revenge I should’ve known it would never end. I should’ve known it started long ago. This was all for nothing. It was what he wanted. I was his toy and still I came to need him. How stupid of me to fall for his trap. I should’ve known it was all part of his plan.
***
X
“Jay, wait!” I say, running after her. “Stop.”
“No fucking way!”
“Let me fucking explain.”
“Explain what? That you fucking got me hooked on drugs? That you were the one who sent that dealer to me, the same one we shot at the diner? That you got Hannah to push me into the whoring at the club and that she was a spy for you? That you even fucking had her select Billy to rough me up?” Tears stain her cheek as she briefly glances behind her while running. “Yes, I saw all the messages, X. You can’t hide it from me any longer.”
Fuck.
I do the thing I must to prevent her from leaving. She can’t leave me. I won’t allow it. So I pull my gun and point it at her ba
ck. She freezes. Then she turns around.
“I did not want him to fucking do to you what he was going to do,” I say. “Yes, I wanted Hannah to get you a fucking rough guy, one who would force you to deep throat him. I didn’t want one who would just take you against your will. Why do you think I killed him when I saw you with your gun and him running off like the fuck-face he was?”
“It’s the thought behind it that matters. You wanted me to be punished.”
“Yes, I did it all. I wanted revenge for what you did,” he says. “I wanted you to pay for all the pain you caused me.”
“You blame me for something I had no part in.”
“You seduced me. You should’ve known.”
“So fucking what? Yes, I wanted you, I was desperate. There’s nothing wrong with wanting sex. You hate me for something that wasn’t even my fault; I just didn’t notice, and you blame me for it. You’re blinded by hatred,” she spits.
My eyes turn to slits, because I’m fuming. I hate that she’s doing this. I wanted to explain it to her myself, but now it’s too late. She’s already concluded what she thinks she knows. “Yes, I am.” I take a long, deep breath to calm down. “But I also fucking love you.”
She snorts, adding insult to injury. “Give me a fucking break. It was all a lie to get me to be with you. To make me weak and vulnerable so I would trust you and stay with you.”
“It was not. A. Lie,” I hiss.
Does she honestly not see? Does she really fucking believe that I have no feelings for her?
“I want you,” I say. “I always fucking wanted you. I hated you for what you caused, but I never stopped wanting you. That’s what drove me to do all those things. By punishing you I gave myself the chance to hate you and made myself believe you would never, never want a guy like me again. It gave me a way out.”
“And what did it bring me? Misery,” she says, making fists.
“I realize now what I wanted was not to hurt you, but to control you. To do all the things I wanted to do to you, but never could because of our history together.” It’s the full fucking truth. It makes me weak, but still it is the truth, and I can no longer ignore it. I need her.
I take a step closer. Then another. “I am no longer that guy that wants to see you in misery. I am the guy who wants to keep you from harm and protect you. The only guy who knows how to truly push your buttons and make you fly, little bird.” I hold out my hand. “Don’t leave. I will give you what you need. Love. Passion. Anything you desire.”
She frowns and slams her lips shut. A big sigh comes out. Then she says, “My freedom. I want my freedom.”
“You know I ca—”
“If you love me, you will give me my freedom. It is what I want the most.” She swallows. “Loving someone means letting them be who they want to be, because that is what you love about them. I want to be free.”
She’s got me.
I’m stunned.
My chest feels constricted, sweat bursting from every pore. I’ve never felt this before.
She’ll leave me. Her eyes say enough. She cannot see past this, no matter how much I try.
I will not lose her.
So I pull the lever on my gun and aim.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. It pains me to do this, but I must.
“Yes. I’m not coming back to you, X.”
“I’ll kill you if you walk any further.”
Her face turns blank. Completely, utterly blank. No emotions whatsoever. It frightens me. I don’t get frightened. Ever.
“No, you won’t.”
Slowly, she turns around. I fill my lungs with air and point the gun at the back of her head. My hands are shaking. They never shake.
Her foot moves. One step. Then another. She doesn’t stop.
“Stop. I’ll do it. Don’t take any more steps or I will do it,” I say.
She turns to face me one more time. “You won’t, because you don’t want your property damaged. Oh, but wait, I’m not yours anymore.” She raises an eyebrow. “You love me. You can’t hurt me. You have no power over me anymore.”
My jaw drops. I stare at her in shock. “You made me believe you wanted me too.”
A smile curves on her lips. “You made me a part of your game, so don’t be so fucking surprised I decided to play.”
And then she turns and keeps walking.
My finger lingers on the trigger, desperate to pull. Except, I can’t. I fucking can’t go through with it. I played with fire and now I must feel the burn, yet again. The game was won, but not by me. My clever little bird beat me at my own game.
I will not let this pass.
“Those who hate most fervently must have once loved deeply; those who want to deny the world must have once embraced what they now set on fire.” – Kurt Tucholksy
Chapter 26
Jay
Wednesday, September 18th, 2013. 1:45 p.m.
I’m shivering from top to bottom, but I will not cease my search. I have to think of a way to contact my father and hope he’ll forgive me for everything before it’s too late. X is taking his money; I have to warn him. Maybe he’ll take me back.
Now that I remember everything, I realize my father is the only one I have left. Even though he did some pretty disgusting things to me, I remember he once loved me. It’s because of my wildness that he rejected me. I’m different now. Maybe I can still fix things.
After all, I’ve been through hell and back. I think I can handle my father.
In a moment of incredible bravery, something I did not believe I had in me, I pushed X aside and ran. I did it. I succeeded in my goal. I vanished from his life. I’m free of the chains he put on me. The chains that bound my body, mind, soul … and even my heart.
I’m free now, completely free to do as I desire. No more listening. No more doing as he pleases. No more X. No more … nothing.
Just nothing …
Nothing is terrifying.
It doesn’t matter where I go, I can’t escape this anxiety, this feeling of despair. It’s like my heart has been ripped from my chest and splattered apart on the street. I could cry, but I won’t. Not for him. No matter how much my heart wants to. Even though I realize our bond has grown these last few weeks, and that there’s no one who feels as much for me as he does, I won’t allow myself to think about it. Not now. Not ever. I can’t.
Clutching myself, I walk down the streets of Atlanta, having no fucking clue where to go. I didn’t have the courage to ask anyone where I need to be, even though I’ve been wandering around for hours. I’m too scared of what their reaction might be to what I have to say. There’s so much I want to say, but I know that if I did, they’d call me insane. Who’d believe me anyway? Dressed as fancy as I am, nobody would believe I was held captive. Oh no, they’d laugh and send me away, or worse, they’d bring me to the police. No, I should definitely not go there. I’ve killed someone for fuck’s sake. They won’t take that lightly. I’m as much of a criminal as X is.
I check the phone again. Only a few dots remain on the battery. If I had my dad’s phone number I would’ve called him by now, but sadly it’s not in here. Sighing, I struggle along my path, trying to figure out where to go next.
Suddenly, the phone buzzes, and I jolt up from the sound and feeling. It’s a strange sensation when you haven’t used a phone in weeks. When I look at it and see the text message, my heart stops.
Jay. You are free now. His money will pay for the hit on your head, but it needs to be more, so I’ve taken your father hostage. I know you don’t care, but I wanted you to know anyway. Rest assured I will punish him for making you forget everything that was once important to you. Let go of your fear; nobody will follow you anymore. I will kill them all.
X
***
X
Wednesday, September 18th, 2013. 1:19 p.m.
A hole remains where my heart used to be. The last pieces of my soul got chipped away. There’s nothing left. She took what was left o
f me.
After all these years of torture I realized that real torture means not having her.
And now the volcano of anger inside me is erupting.
Anger takes control of me as I walk toward the stage, looking up at her father through the crowd. She wants me gone? She wants to be free? Fine, but I won’t go out without a bang.
Her father is being bombarded with questions from journalists, eager to know what happened to his recent campaign. I know what happened. Me. He cast away his daughter in the hopes of saving his political career. Instead, what he got was more humiliation than he bargained for. All his fears came to life.
And now another one will be set loose.
I walk into the alley to the side of the building and enter a door that says “NO ENTRY.” There is a girl on the phone behind a desk, and when she spots me she holds up her hand to halt me. I raise my gun and fire away, killing her straight away.
Blood stains her chair as I walk past her and enter the bathroom closest to the front door. There, I position myself behind the door and wait. A few minutes ago, before the press meeting, I slipped a laxative into his drink. I check my clock. It should be no more than five minutes until he’s here. The conference already ended, and he must’ve been jumping up and down for five minutes holding his shit together. Literally.
As the door opens, I raise my gun and point it at the back of his head. When he hears the clicking noise he stops in his tracks.
“You will come with me now,” I say.
“Please, I really need to take a shit, can’t this wait?” he says.
I laugh, grab his collar, and drag him out the door. Oh, he’ll get to shit all right. On himself.
***
Wednesday, September 18th, 2013. 2:17 p.m.
Mr. X Page 25
