“Belt or ropes?” I ask, and she hesitates to answer. “It’s okay, little girl. You may have the choice.”
She turns to look at me, biting her lower lip. “Belt, sir.”
I want to pick ropes—Lex all tied up is a masterpiece. I crave the sight of lines crossing under her breasts and binding her wrists, but I did give her the option, which I’ll always respect.
I undo my belt buckle and free the thick leather from my pant loops. Getting up, I walk slowly over to the corner, to my waiting prey. Running the cold buckle up her spine, I watch as she arches her back a little more at the gentle touch.
A high-pitched slap rings out, echoing through the large, wood-covered space. Her ass cheeks turn red immediately. I repeat a few times, letting the thick leather spank her sensitive skin as she cries out from the pain she craves.
“Turn around.” The order barks from my throat and she obeys rapidly. “You know what to do.”
Looking up at me with her large, round eyes, Lex frees my dick from my pants, letting her tongue glide from the base to the tip of my flaccid cock, starting to suck on the head. It doesn’t ever take long for her to get me ready; Lex has mastered the fine art of deep-throating a dick over the years, and her work has yet to be paralleled in my experience.
Watching her head bob as she chokes on my length captivates me as I plan out the rest of our encounter in my head. Once I have the perfect scenario orchestrated, I explain. “You’re going to get on the edge of the bed, lying down on your stomach with your hands still behind your back, and I am going to fuck your ass until I am ready to come. You will not come until I have, and you will make yourself get there with the wand.”
Lex nods and gets into position on the bed. I wrap the belt around her wrists, binding them together and cinching it tight. I take a second to watch as the belt weaves through the buckle around her fair skin and slender bones at the small of her back, right above her perfect ass, which I am about to ravage. I quickly strip down, wadding my suit up into a ball on the floor at my feet.
Grabbing lube from my nightstand drawer, I pour a generous amount over her tight opening. Without warning, I thrust the thick head of my dick into her.
“Thank you, Master.” She breathlessly moans, sending a shiver down my spine.
Pounding Lex harder and harder into the bed, I’m soon on the verge of climaxing. A thin sheen of sweat coats both of our bodies as my pace and breathing quicken. Intoxicated from the sheer ecstasy of the moment, I almost don’t notice the annoying sound coming from the pile of clothes at the foot of my bed.
Across the room, my cellphone—still buried in the pocket of my slacks—starts blaring Ellie’s ringtone. I sigh because I know I have to answer it. She knew I was going to be indisposed tonight, and she wouldn’t be calling unless it were completely necessary.
“Hold on,” I whisper into Lex’s ear before biting it one last time, making Lex wince from the sharp pain.
Grabbing my phone, I swipe right to answer the call before it is sent to voicemail.
“It’s done,” I answer as I take the call out in the hallway as to not let Lex listen in on my conversation. As the short conversation unfolds, I know I have to get to Ellie, and fast. There is no time to finish my playtime for the evening.
I bolt back into my room after Ellie ends our call, frantically digging in my drawer for clothes to throw on.
Lex is frozen on my bed, her hands still bound by my belt.
“I have to go. See yourself out.” I free her wrists and hand her clothes to her from off of the floor.
“Is everything okay?” Lex’s voice is meek and caring, a tone I have never heard from her before.
I pull a white t-shirt over my head and slip my shoes back on. “I don’t know yet,” I say before bolting out of my bedroom and racing to my car where it’s parked in the driveway.
Chapter 2
Panic
Ellie
I never thought a kill would have an impact on me. I’ve done it so much that it’s never been more than a job to me. People pay me to take care of the people who have wronged them. It’s a civic duty for the most part. These people are not the kind who should be walking the streets—they are criminals, murderers, thieves, and rapists. They are just all-around fuckin’ terrible people, but Heather…I guess she was just different to me.
Yeah, she was a bad person; there is no doubt about that. Not only was she sleeping with a married man, but she herself was married. Why? What is the point in cheating? I’ve never understood the mentality behind it myself. If you don’t want to be attached to one person for the rest of your life…don’t do it! It really is a pretty simple thing. But, not everyone has the same mentality as me on things. Not everyone has things they believe strongly in; it’s just the world we live in today. When the leader of the conservative party has been married more times than Kim Kardashian, you know there is a problem—but, I digress. Cheating is a big thing for me, which is why I will continue to remain unattached. No one does it enough for me to let my lady parts be retired.
I am trying to make excuses for this kill though, which is exactly when I realize there is something wrong. I’ve never in the past thought about a kill after the fact. I go home, go through the motions, and move on with my life like nothing happened at all. A job is supposed to just be a job, and I am not one to take my work home with me, ever.
Killing Heather is different though…I just can’t figure out exactly why yet.
Pacing back and forth across my kitchen, I realize what I did was wrong: I took the life of a mother, and a woman that had just given birth, nonetheless. My conscience is flooded with regrets. I always tell myself I am too emotionally void to care about something so trivial as the life of an adulterer, but for some reason this one is hitting me in a way I didn’t see coming. I don’t know what to do, and I don’t know whom I can call to purge this information to. Theo is out of town with Journey somewhere tropical, enjoying whatever it is they are doing on their last day of a frivolous vacation, and Linc…well, he is busy trying to find something to do with that baby.
That poor little girl. It is my fault her start to life was ruined—my fault, no one else’s. Her father is long gone, and now her mother, both by my own hands. I don’t know what to do, how to feel. What I do know is that I am a basket case, and never did I anticipate spiraling out of control like this. Have I hit a breaking point that there is no coming back from? Have I become a vile piece of shit like the people I kill?
All these feelings, all these emotions are new for me. I don’t know how to deal with any of them. Opening my freezer, I pull out a bottle of Jameson and throw the cap across the kitchen. It clinks against the dishwasher as I lift the bottle to my lips and chug back the whiskey. It burns on its way down, making me feel warm, making me feel… I feel again, and I know that what I just did was wrong.
“What the fuck is wrong with me?” I ask out loud, even though I am standing alone in my kitchen. Great, now I am talking to myself; I really have gone off the deep end this time. Taking the bottle of whiskey with me, I make my way to the bathroom for a bubble bath and a joint, but I can’t get the picture of that small helpless baby lying in the incubator, just minutes old, out of my head. What will become of her? What kind of life will she end up with? Whatever upbringing she has will be my own direct responsibility. Why do I fucking care? I shouldn’t!
Sparking my joint, I start running the water and pour in a generous amount of bubbles. Puffing away, it slowly begins to take the edge off, but it doesn’t stop my mind from wandering in every direction possible. Instead of getting into the bathtub and unwinding a little bit, I pick up my phone and dial Linc. I need someone…anyone. He is my person.
After a few rings, he answers the phone.
“It’s done,” he says, thinking I’m checking in on his job for the evening.
“No, Linc, I need you to come to me now,” I frantically stutter into the phone.
“What? I don’t understand,�
�� he barks at me.
“There’s a problem. I need you here. And get that baby back…”
“I am on my way. See you in a few minutes.” His voice is laced with worry.
“Thank you,” I whisper before I end the call. The room is spinning and my heart is racing. I can’t calm down. My vision begins to blur and my ears are ringing. The phone falls out of my hand and I sit down on the bathroom floor. My legs wobble and are no longer able to hold me in place. What in the world is wrong with me? I take in several deep breaths and close my eyes, but all I can see is her. Every time I close my eyes, I see that poor little girl looking at me. I need that baby. I need her here so I know she is going to be okay. She is my responsibility.
I reach for the joint that is now on my bathroom floor as a cold sweat washes over my body. Taking another hit, I pray it will make me feel better, bring me back down to Earth. What the fuck is wrong with me? What is happening to me? I reach across the tile, pick up the phone again, and compose a text message to Theo.
I’m not okay. I need you.
I hit send and close my eyes, leaning over and laying my face against the cold tile of the bathroom floor. It soothes my body but not my nerves, and I am frozen in place. The tub starts to spill over, water pouring onto the floor with bubbles goes everywhere, but I can’t move. This is not the Ellie McGuire I am supposed to be. This is not me! Who am I anymore? I think back to my childhood and all the fucked-up situations my mother put me in, and it’s like a slow motion movie reel as my body begins to give up on me. This is it. This is how I am going to go out—on my bathroom floor with a fucking joint in my hand and a bottle of whiskey on the counter. I knew one day my life would catch up with me, I just didn’t think it would be so soon. I thought I had more time here.
My body feels heavy, like it is becoming one with the floor. I blink my eyes a few more times before the darkness takes over and I’m left dying on my bathroom floor, praying Linc comes to rescue me soon. I’m broken.
“A what?” I ask Linc as I sit on the edge of my platform king-sized bed, nursing a glass of water…slow, tiny sips, praying it will help the room stop spinning.
“An anxiety attack. I used to get them all the time,” Linc says, shrugging the entire episode off. There is no way in hell that had anything to do with anxiety. He’s not a doctor! Who the fuck does he think he is coming in here acting like this isn’t a huge goddamn deal?
“I doubt it was anxiety, Linc. Don’t you think I could handle a little bullshit anxiety attack? I’m fucking Ellie McGuire—shit like that doesn’t happen to me!” I’m being such an asshole to him, but it’s the truth. There is no way that was just anxiety.
“Uh huh, whatever Ellie.” He rolls his eyes before continuing, sending my rage to another level. “You need to see a doctor. This can’t happen again—what if I can’t get to you next time?” I chuckle at his words; there really isn’t anything else to do at this point.
“My bathroom will flood?” It’s a coping mechanism for me, making a joke out of the most serious shit. It is just how I’ve come to deal with my life. If I didn’t do it, I would be far more fucked up than I already am—if that is even possible.
“Ellie listen, you need to make a decision on what to do with this baby. This isn’t musical chairs. It’s a life, not a fuckin’ house plant.” He changes the subject to the most serious thing I have on my plate. While Linc has made plans for the baby girl to go to a good home, it will be days before she is placed. I didn’t care where she went before all of this, but now I’m torn. My mind has been a million places, and when all is said and done, I keep ending up in the same place: taking that little girl myself and raising her as my own. I just can’t figure out how that would fit into my current lifestyle.
“Linc, I think I’d like to keep her myself,” I blurt out, confiding in my best friend.
“You what?” Linc says with his eyebrow arched.
“Keep her…raise her,” I say as my eyes look all over my bedroom, anything to avoid eye contact with him, because he can read me like a book.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Ellie? It’s a baby. A child! A damn human being that needs real love, actual attention, a good role model. Maybe you should start with a dog, or better yet one of those fighting fish that feed off of bamboo in their bowl so you don’t even have to feed it.”
I should take a moment to collect my thoughts and really mull all of this over, but I’ve never been one for really thinking things out. I’m the type that does shit and thinks about the repercussions of my actions in hindsight. Even if Linc lectured me for days, I don’t think anyone could change my mind at this point. There is a child that needs a home, I have a room for her and resources to give her a good life—enough said.
But can I be a mother and a killer at the same time? That isn’t something I can answer right now; my assumption is only time will tell. That isn’t even important at this point in time; what is important is that I right a wrong that I made in this world, and the only way I can do that is by taking that baby in and giving her the best life possible. I feel like it will be my pay-it-forward moment for the life Theo gave me.
“Linc, this is the only way I can make this whole thing right…” I trail off, trying to come up with some logical explanation for how I am going to make this all work.
“Ellie, what did you do wrong?” he asks, and I think about his question. A few moments pass before I can honestly answer him.
“Everything… I should have never killed her mother. It’s not a fair start to life!” Since when do I have regrets like this? I don’t know how to rationally handle all the feelings I am having.
“Ellie, love, you did your job. You did what you always do, what you were hired to do. This is nothing different than any hit before. Why has this one become so fucking personal?” Linc runs his fingers through his long dark hair and wipes his hand over his beard. I search for the words to explain how I feel, but they are lost in the darkness of my own nightmare of a mind.
“That little girl could have been me.” The words leap from my shredded throat as I fight back the water about to start pouring from my eyes.
It’s personal. It’s my life. I’m trying to rewrite history by taking this little girl in and giving her the life I wish I could have had as a small child, far away from the poor excuse of a mother I had.
“You think you can make up for your own childhood by raising this baby?” His pale blue eyes search my emotionless face.
“Yes,” I state, staring blankly at him.
“I think you need to talk to Theo before you do anything, Eleanor.” Linc’s voice turns to gravel as my full name escapes his lips while walking to the doorway of my bathroom to clean up the mess he walked in on. Had he taken any longer, the water surely would have done some serious damage.
“Yes, Daddy.” I razz him as he walks away, and Linc glances back over his shoulder to give me a nasty look.
I don’t know whether this is a good idea or not, but I know this is what I am going to do. Fuck what Theo thinks or has to say—I’m old enough to make my own damn decisions at this point in my life.
Chapter 3
Realizations
Linc
After I finally finish cleaning up the fucking train wreck of a bathroom, I walk in to find Ellie lying in bed with a tub of ice cream in hand and a spoon waiting for me.
“Want some?” she asks with a mouth full of Rocky Road rolling around in her mouth; of course she has to taunt me with my favorite dessert ever.
I make myself comfortable in her down-covered bed, taking the spoon from her. “Feeling better?” I ask before taking a huge bite of chocolate goodness. I pause for a second to look over her face—eyes puffy from crying, nearly all of her makeup smeared around her face—and she has never looked so beautiful. There is something about how raw and open she is right now that gets to me. Ellie is not one to show emotion openly, and in those rare moments when she does, I fall for her harder. It isn’t just a romantic
thing; I love her spirit, I love her tenacity, I love her fire—all in secret. There has never been anything more between us than deep friendship and a twisted working relationship, and for as long as I can control myself, that is all it will ever be. People like Eleanor McGuire do not slum it up with people like me—different sides of the tracks and all.
“A little,” Ellie mutters, wiggling around in the sheets to get more comfortable. I force myself to shake out of my mushy, teenage-crush-like thoughts and get back into my serious mode. We still have more business to talk about and a crap load of issues to deal with.
“So, Ellie.” I shove up on one elbow to turn toward her, my eyes glued to the ice-cream container in her hand; there is no way I can make eye contact with her while asking this question. “What will you name her?” I glance up at Ellie’s face for a brief second to watch as her eyes get wide.
“Who?” she asks while biting her lower lip, trying to play coy.
I nudge her with my elbow before scooping out more ice cream. “Don’t think I can’t see right through you. You know damn well who I am fucking talking about: that baby that is asleep in a temporary, half-assed nursery in my apartment only a few miles from here.” My words come out harsher than I intend.
She shrugs, ignoring my gruffness. “Baby steps, Linc. It will come to me in due time.”
“I guess we will have to start with setting up her nursery here. Then I can finally get a whole night’s sleep without a screaming baby down the hall.” I put my spoon down on the nightstand next to me; if I didn’t stop binging now, I am going to seriously regret it at the gym tomorrow morning.
“Not so fast there—don’t forget about my trip to D.C.” She stretches and yawns.
I glance over to see her luggage already packed in the corner of her room. “The vice president’s son. Are you ready?” It is hard for me to admit to myself, but I am worried about this hit. Until now, we have dealt with smaller fish. This one is the big kahuna, and the thought of Ellie going to D.C. without me is enough to drive me up a damn wall, especially since it is to protect her reputation. We never thought the trip she took to Seattle would end up biting us in the ass, but here we are about to have to clean up a mess that shouldn’t have been an issue in the first place. Don’t people know better than to kiss and tell anymore?
The Hopeless (The Huntress #2) Page 2
