by J. A. Huss
The tension eases out of me as I think of my adopted little sister. Not daughter. My friend the amateur psychologist adopted her as his daughter. He can have that title.
I actually laugh at that. All those phone calls he placed to me when she was fourteen, trying to ease her back into civilian life after that mess of a final job we did.
They did, I correct myself.
They all retired. Life went on. And they went on with it.
But me? I’m stuck, man. I’m stuck in time. I’m stuck back in the hills between Cheyenne and Larimer. The night Sydney’s father and Garrett tried to kill Sasha and got her father instead. The night I vowed that we’d get those motherfuckers.
And we did. A long time ago. We got them.
All but one.
I need him.
I need to torture him and make him pay.
I need to kill him. And I need Sydney Channing to make that happen.
I will do whatever it takes to get my revenge.
Whatever. It. Takes.
“When the monster in the dark wants to drag you into the light, just go silent and still.”
– Sydney
I come down off the drugs the same way I did the previous times. Thick, sticky mouth desperate for water. My stomach rumbling. The silence. The bottoms of my feet are warm from the hidden fire. My eyes are blind from the hidden light.
I sigh. Then I sit up and repeat this whole thing over again. Feet to the floor. Walk to the heat to warm myself. There’s a rug covering the stone hearth. The food slips in, along with that coveted sliver of light, through the plate-sized slit in the wall. Crawl over. Eat. Get up. Drink.
He does not come in this time.
Why is he drugging me?
I go back over to the covered fireplace and sit on the rug. It’s not anything special. But it’s more than what I had.
So that’s number five. Five things he’s given me to ease my discomfort. What’s his angle? Lure me into talking with simple pleasures?
It’s working. I am grateful for the rug, the water, the food, the fire, and the fact that I’m not tied up.
I lie back and stretch out. The rug is not long enough for my whole body to lie across it, but I don’t care. I scoot over to the metal plate that keeps most of the heat and all of the firelight out and press myself against it.
It feels good.
I’m not afraid, though I should be. I’m not wishing for anything at the moment. So I think whatever Case is doing, he failed.
My eyes close, and even though I just woke up from the drugs, this is not the same thing. This is exhaustion.
I stay this way for a while and then, ever so subtly, I begin to hear sounds from the other room. His boots thud across the floor. They come near me, like he’s on the other side of the hidden fire, then retreat. The heat becomes more intense. He must’ve added wood.
I smell food. I already ate, so I’m pretty sure this is not for me. But I’m not hungry, so I don’t care.
I let my mind slip to Garrett, then replace those thoughts with Brett. I should be thinking about Brett. He’s good. He’s sweet. His family is nice. And I hate that he will find out what a shitty person I am if they ever find my body.
All the questions that will come out about me. All the answers that will follow.
I swallow down the shame. I’ve seen a few therapists in secret over the years. Appointments when I’ve been out of town for some reason or another. Set up in advance. One-time-only things. I mean, I tell them I’ll come back, but I’m never in the same place twice.
And I tell them all the same story. Made up, of course, but close enough to the truth so I can glean a little bit of help from their responses.
And they all say the same thing. I’m not responsible for my father. I’m not responsible for being related to him. You can’t choose your family, isn’t that what they say? I do not have to be ashamed for things he’s done.
But what about the things I’ve done? The things I’m doing?
The door opens with a creak again.
“You don’t know why I left,” I tell Case as he steps into the room.
“No?” he asks, taking a seat on the wooden table. It creaks from his weight. “Tell me why you left then.”
I could refuse. It’s none of his business. And I’m not required to have light conversation with him. This has nothing to do with what he wants. It’s plain old curiosity. But I’m not going to refuse. I want him to know. “Because I love them. They’re good people and I knew you’d be back. I heard your words. I knew what they meant. And I knew you were just waiting for some big moment to appear back into my life.”
“You came to me, Syd.”
His use of my familiar nickname unsettles me in so many ways. “I ran from them. To save them from you.”
“You came to me. I was waiting out there on the road because I knew you’d come.”
“How the fuck did you know?”
“Because you told me.”
I laugh at that one. “OK.”
“You told me with your actions. I wasn’t even sure if I’d show up that night.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s thinking back on a memory. “I mean, it was definitely a trap. But it went off easy.” He flicks on a small lantern. The little battery-powered bulb inside the glass is just enough to illuminate his face as he talks. “Too easy, Sydney.”
I have not seen his face in years. And I don’t see it now, either. I see his eyes. His deep, yellow-brown eyes that remind me of honey, or amber, or a subdued sunset painted in warm ochre watercolors. “What was?” I whisper, transfixed by his stare.
“You.” He stands up, letting the lantern drop, and then I only see his legs as he comes towards me. He sits down on the hearth next to me and I can feel the heat of the fire coming off his body. I can smell it too. He smells like the memory of the woods on a summer night.
“You were too easy,” he continues. “Maybe Garrett is on his way here right now. Maybe he’s outside, ready to break in and kill us.”
I snort. “You mean you. Not me.”
Case lifts the lantern up again, only this time it’s so he can see my face. “Why?”
“Why what?” I ask back, annoyed.
“Do you love him?”
I squint my eyes from the light, and then swat his hand away, making the lantern sway for a second. I half expect him to smack me for that. But he doesn’t. “Why wouldn’t I?”
He laughs and I can just barely make out the smile.
Jesus fuck. Why does my killer have to look like this? I glance down at his chest and see that he has no shirt on. His gaze follows mine and then when I look up he shrugs.
“It’s hot out there,” he says with a smile, nodding to the other side of the fire that I don’t get the pleasure of experiencing. I open my mouth to say something, but he beats me to it. “Do you like?”
“Like what?” replaces the words about to roll off my tongue.
“My chest.”
I close my eyes and smile, laughing as I do it. “You did not just ask me—”
But then his hand is around my neck and he’s pressed his face right up against mine. “Yes or no?” He fists my hair, pulling it and making me wince.
But I don’t answer him. Fuck that. I’m not telling this murderer that he’s hot.
And then he’s on his feet, swinging me over his shoulder. He slams me down on the wooden table hard enough to knock the breath out of me. My hands are tethered to the wall again, this time not spread apart, but both together, wound up with thin leather strips that were not what held me before. I bring up my legs and kick him in the chest. He steps backwards from the force, and then he growls as he takes one still-kicking leg and clamps a leather cuff on it. He repeats this with the other leg and then there it is.
I’m ready. I’m ready to be raped.
Case takes a breath, like he needs it, and I internally smile that I kicked him hard enough to cause that pause.
“He called you wildcat for
a reason, I guess.”
That word stops me. Like instantly. I lie still, unable to move.
“Hush,” Case says.
It comforts me and I settle, so he reforms his question. “Why did he call you wildcat?”
I’m so confused. “Who?”
“Nice try,” Case says with a smirk. “I’m not sure what’s going on here, but we’re gonna sort it out, wildcat. We’re definitely gonna sort it out.” And then he pulls a feather out of his jeans pocket and flicks the tip against my bare nipple.
I feel it bunch up from the touch and close my eyes, shaking my head at the same time.
He leans down in my space, right next to my ear, and whispers, “You like it, don’t you?”
“No,” I answer.
“Liar.” He takes the feather and traces it over my ribs. Down one. Up the next. Down again. Up again. Stopping in the center of my stomach. “Why do you carry that acorn in your pocket?”
I’m biting the inside of my lip when he asks that question, and when I let go of it to draw in a breath to speak, I taste blood. It sets me back a moment.
“Why, Syd?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Because only one person calls you that, wildcat?”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“Because that’s not really a pet name, it’s something so much more?”
“Who the fuck are you talking about?”
Case laughs. “Take one guess, sweetheart.”
I know it’s Garrett. I know this. But what Case is saying doesn’t make sense. So I say nothing.
Case lets out a breath. But then his feather travels down my stomach to the dip between my hips. “Brett likes you bare?”
I fume inside. “That’s none of your business.”
“Have you ever fucked him?”
“Fuck you.”
“I know you haven’t. I’ve heard him complain about it before.”
“Fuck you.”
“He’s afraid you’ll be a huge disappointment in bed.”
I close my eyes to block him out.
“But he’s got nothing to worry about in that department, does he, Syd?”
I remain silent. But Case doesn’t remain still. His feather dips down between my legs, to my sex. He tickles my clit a few times, making me cry out with humiliation. “Stop,” I say.
“Stop?” Case asks. “I don’t think you really mean that, do you, Syd?”
“Stop,” I say again. “Stop now, and you won’t have to add ‘rapist’ to your resume.”
He chuckles under his breath, like I’m so funny. “I’ll stop if you say it again.” I open my mouth, but he clamps a hand over it before I can get the words out. “Hush,” he says.
My mind spins with that hush. Something is there. Something weird.
“Hush,” he says again, like he knows. “Hush, Sydney. Because I think I know why we’re not getting anywhere with the drugs.”
I look up at him. Past the hand that’s still clamped over my mouth. His amber eyes hold me like that. Completely in his grasp. Completely under his control.
“Say yes and I’ll tell you the question that’s on your mind now. Say yes and I’ll stop the confusion. Say yes and I’ll ease it out of you in a way you might enjoy. Right here on the table where I killed your father. I’ll tell you my little secret.” Case pauses for a moment. And then he lifts his hand away from my mouth. The no I’m screaming inside is trapped there in my mind.
Case exhales, releasing the tension he was hiding. He’s not as in control as he wants me to think. And then he resumes his play. The feather tickles my clit once again and I close my eyes and shake my head.
“Say no, then.”
But I don’t say no.
Because hush means something, I just can’t quite place it. Hush. It’s a soft word. A soothing word. Not a mean shut up. Not a harsh be quiet.
Hush.
Case leans over my parted legs with one hand on the inside of my knee. His touch is soft and soothing. He gives me a slight squeeze and then dips his mouth down to my inner thigh and kisses the marks he put there with his knife.
I close my eyes and shake my head. My legs tremble. I want to speak. I want to say no so bad.
But I want to say yes much more.
His tongue travels up my thigh, his hand gently caressing the opposite knee. “Say yes,” he murmurs as he kisses. “Give in to me, Syd. You know you want to.”
I do want to. But I’m not ready to say it out loud yet.
Case unbuckles his belt, undoes his button, and unzips his fly. The lantern isn’t bright enough to see it, but the shadow of his hard dick is thick as he fists it in his hand. He drops the feather and reaches for the knife attached to his belt. And then he drops his pants and we are both naked.
He climbs on the table and straddles my hips.
I let out a whimper.
“I want you to say yes, Sydney. Because yes is the answer to all your problems right now. I’m the answer to all your problems right now. But you can say no. Now’s your chance. Your last chance, Sydney. I can kill you now”—he holds the knife up to his throat, making a slicing gesture across it—“and it will be over. You never have to know the truth. You never have to face this reality. Say no and I’ll make it all the confusion go away. It will be very simple and I’ll make it very quick.”
I stay silent.
“But wildcat, do you really want to move on to the next world being played instead of being a player? Do you really want to give up? Give in? Check out? Don’t you want to know, Sydney? Don’t you want answers to all those burning questions you must have?”
I hold my breath trying to understand him.
“If you give me what I want, I’ll make it better for you.”
What am I supposed to say to that? “Fuck me then. Or kill me. I don’t really care. Do whatever you want.”
“You’re missing the point, cowgirl.” He stares down at me. I can’t see his eyes very well, there are too many shadows. But I know that stare now. I’ve seen it in my head for years. I’ve craved it.
And here he is. The gift I wanted, but not the way I fantasized. I wanted him to choose to save me that night. And even though I know I’m only here so he can use me, I still need to hold on to the illusion I’ve built up in my head. I want Merric Case to desire me so much, he chooses differently. I want him to change my life. I want him to take it back.
“What’s the point?” I ask softly. “Tell me what you need and I’ll try and give it to you.”
He huffs out a breath of air. A sort of satisfied laugh. “Famous last words, Syd. If you really want to give me what I want, you need to tell me what you know.” He crawls up my body, a hand on each side of me, one still grasping the knife. And then he positions his cock in front of my face. “You’ve seen him.”
“Who?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.
“Garrett,” Case says, leaning down to whisper back as his lips cover mine. “You’ve seen him, Syd. Lots of times. You used to disappear every once in a while. Be gone for days. Sometimes up to a week. I used to think you had quite the stealthy skillset.” He pulls back a little so he can see me. His body is covering most of the light behind him, so I can’t see him at all. His face is just a shadow. “But I’ve been thinking about why you’re not responding to the drugs, cowgirl. And the only possible answer is Garrett.”
I shake my heavy head and close my eyes. “I don’t want to play anymore. I don’t want to play—”
“You’re gonna play, Sydney. You know how I know that?”
I don’t answer. I don’t open my eyes. I’m so dizzy.
“Because all I gotta do is tell you to hush.”
I spin. The darkness becomes so much more than blackness. It becomes everything. It becomes safety, and relief, and desire. It calls to me, makes me want him in ways I can’t explain.
It splits me open and empties me out.
And then he’s there with my reward. My last chance is o
ver.
He fills me back up.
“Satisfaction comes from achievement. The problem comes when you can’t decide where the finish line is. Sometimes you cross without realizing.”
– Case
Her lips wrap around me as I ease into her throat. Her tongue flattens down, sliding against my shaft. I grunt, wishing I had her in the light. Wishing I could see every moment as she takes my whole length.
“You feel good,” I tell her, my hand pressing against her face for a moment of encouragement.
She gags a little when I thrust too hard.
“Shhh,” I tell her. She’s out of it now. Lost in her own world. I hate to take her this way, but I need her in that world. It’s the place that has the answers. And this is the only way I know to get her there. Garrett used her this way. He knew a long time ago how to make her comply with his demands.
I’m just figuring it out now. And she’s damn good at it. Her teeth scrape against my skin and make me wish for more. I want her on her knees. I want her eyes on me, open wide and filled with the desire to please. I’d fist her hair and pull her towards me, making her take me all the way to my balls.
Just imagining that is enough. I throw my head back and she chokes as I come down her throat, but she swallows just as the sobs start. I pull out and get off the table so I can get dressed.
The sobs build to full on crying. Big ugly gasping. Tears streaming down her face. Coughing. Semen she didn’t already swallow spilling out of her lips.
I have a moment of pause and wonder if I should just kill her. This is not what I thought it would be.
But I don’t. Because I need so much more from her than this. I need to get inside her. So I lean into her ear and whisper, “Hush.”
She stops all of it. Like I just flipped a switch.
And I did.
I put my hands behind my head and look up at the shadows on the ceiling. When I look down at her she’s staring at the ceiling as well. But her eyes are blank.
I know what he did. I know exactly what he did to her. That motherfucker.
Kill her, the voice in my head says. Kill her now.
But I take out the syringe from my pocket and plunge it into her thigh instead. I need answers and she is the only one who has them.
