My Vicious Demise (Demise #2)

by Shana Vanterpool

  What happened?

  I shook my head. There was no way I was going there right now. I went there when I couldn’t help it. When my memories refused to be completely forgotten, like the flashes of my mother’s face. I had a difficult time remembering entirely what happened myself. His image was so blurred. It was dark and twisted and there was pain in my head that I couldn’t handle. Even now I could feel my head exploding from the inside out. The ringing in my ears that lasted for hours, days, and weeks. I sat in the same spot and stared, trying to understand that everything wasn’t quiet. I just couldn’t hear.

  I couldn’t hear him coming anymore.

  Becca grabbed my hand and squeezed, bringing me back to reality.

  Shh. You don’t have to tell me. Just answer this. Did someone hurt you?

  Yes.

  I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry they hurt you.

  Her apology did nothing for me. Words never have. Not the doctor who wrote her answers down on the whiteboard, or Uma’s insistent promise that everything would be okay. My brain protected me from the worst memories, but I maintained enough to know that things may be okay now, but they weren’t for a long time. The neglect was there from birth. The beatings started when Mom’s boyfriend showed up. To the little boy I’d been he was a warped, disfigured monster who wore flannel. My mother was comatose on the couch with a needle in her arm, watching me hold my hurting body with nothing but indifference in her eyes. She never loved me. Uma insisted her daughter wasn’t the mother I knew. She was an addict, she was not herself.

  But that wasn’t true. Who she was for seven years was the only thing that counted to me.

  Becca guided my head to her chest and forced me to lie there with her arms around me. Why was I thinking about these things now? I lived my life without stimulation. I did things because they were supposed to be done, and I thought things because it kept the silence in my brain from taking over. I felt empty. Something was kicking up my memories. It was showing me my past wasn’t gone; I’d just found a way to exist without it ripping me apart.

  I could feel my chest expanding. Instead of calming me Becca’s arms trapped me, forcing me to lie still. When I tried to get up she tightened her grip and wrapped her legs around my waist, holding me in place. One of her hands was in my hair, rubbing the strands on my nape while the other went up and down my back slowly, creating a rhythm. It was such a selfless, affectionate gesture. I couldn’t remember ever being held. I didn’t need Becca to make me feel better. She was here temporarily, a brief flash of beauty that would leave me like everyone else, dangling peace in my face before she snatched it away. If I was going to be by myself then I had to learn to do it on my own.

  Friends with benefits was as far as this would go.

  I had to accept that the same way I had to accept everything else.

  Chapter Eleven

  Becca

  A part of me fell right along with James as he broke.

  I didn’t allow men to take me with them when their lives dismantled. Our relationships were about sex, want and release. I’d never wanted to comfort them or found it impossible to leave them alone. In all my life I’d never wanted to want a man this much in my life.

  I increased my hold on James and accepted that when this ended, men like Heath were waiting for me. For the first time the thought of them brought me no comfort. All I would ever get were spare bedrooms and meaningless sex. Everything I felt that made me who I was started to feel like a farce, some pretty lie I’d been telling myself to keep the truth hidden.

  James wasn’t the only one falling apart.

  Our bodies become entangled and twisted in his sheets. I held him the way I’ve never held anyone but Rain—protectively. I had a feeling he had never been held this way. My eyes stung. A man like James deserved to be taken care of. And here I was propositioning him for emotionless sex when it was clear that was the last thing he needed. But I was selfish. I wouldn’t destroy this arrangement until we were both too broken to walk away. I was going to ruin us both and then stand back and watch the destruction like I always did.

  After a while James’s breathing calmed and his body relaxed. He was sleeping.

  I sighed and released my gritted teeth, letting my tears flow. I didn’t want him to see me cry. I didn’t even know what happened to him. Feeling his pain radiate from his body was enough to understand it wasn’t a bedtime story with a happy ending. He lost his hearing because someone hurt him. I pictured him, a little boy with those sharp blue eyes, crying, bleeding. I was glad James was sleeping, because the image ripped me apart. I shoved my face in his hair and inhaled the smell of him. It filled my lungs and helped chase the image away. Threading my fingers in his hair and feeling the weight of his body chased away the rest.

  The tablet was smashed beneath me. It dug into my lower back, preventing me from relaxing with him. To make matters worse my bladder picked that precise moment to host a rebellion. Attempting to shift would disturb James. So I endured it, trying to focus on anything else other than the overwhelming desire to pee and the hard, sharp tablet in my back. I had to call Max and explain why I missed work. Oh, it’s cool, Max. I was just having mind-blowing oral sex in my sister’s bed with a guy I can never have. Yeah, no, it won’t happen again.

  But I wanted it again.

  James was by far the most attentive lover I’d ever been with. He never asked once for his own release. All he wanted was mine. The memory of him between my legs made this arrangement between us even more difficult to uphold. But the images were set free. The fire blazing in his brilliant blue eyes, the backbreaking orgasms back to back to back, and the sense that he’d rather stay down there all day because that’s what I wanted. I’d done it for purely selfish reasons. Keeping him away from his date had been my initial reasoning. Knowing he wanted to cover the hickey I gave him so he could be around another women unleashed a savage sense of jealousy inside of me. I honestly felt in that moment as though James had betrayed me. Their sweet conversations, the fact that he wanted my hickey gone for her, and when he told me no—these things were gasoline on a fire.

  I exploded.

  I knew I could have James. I could have most men with a single look. It seemed simple. James didn’t want her as much as he wanted me. And deep down I wanted him to want me more than he wanted Tess. I proved a point to a girl that didn’t even know I existed. James would still end up with Tess. Some socially acceptable, timid, perfect thing that got to hold this man and knew she deserved him. I may get him for a short time, but I planned on making it worth every ounce of pain it caused me later.

  After what felt like hours, James finally began to stir. I’d talked myself into a frenzy, where for the first time I felt unconfident. I was good enough for myself and everyone else, but I wasn’t good enough for this man. How could I be?

  I didn’t appreciate the notion. I was Rebecca O’Connor. I was strong, confident, and completely on my own side. No man had ever made me feel anything less and I shouldn’t start now. But maybe it was because James hadn’t tried. It was my own deficiency that made me feel this way. I doubted myself because of me.

  He lifted his head. His eyes were puffy and so were his lips. His hair was wickedly messy and as he stared, his eyes softened, making my heart rate speed up for some strange reason. He looked sleepy and confused as he sat up and ran a hand down his face. I wanted to tug him back down and wrap my legs around his waist, but my bladder kindly reminded me I had a second, maybe two, to make it to the bathroom before I stained his sheets.

  James’s bathroom was larger than the one in the hall. He had a bathtub along with a standing shower. It was sparsely decorated with only a bottle of antibacterial soap and a sole beige rug. His room wasn’t much different. He needed color and love, something to make it a warm inviting place. I eyed the tub as I relieved myself, imagining how good it would feel to soak in some hot soapy water. It’d been too long since I could take a second and relax. My life had been spent from a very e
arly age just trying to survive. Survival left little time for comfort.

  When I returned to his bedroom James was waiting on the edge of his bed with a towel, ready for his shower. Visions of his long, lean body dripping wet left a rush of heat behind. I licked my dry lips and fanned myself with my camisole. I won’t join him. We couldn’t jump into bed together without discussing some hard points. I’d give us both some time to understand what this pairing meant. Keeping the emotions out of this required a track record. James wouldn’t understand if I gave in every time.

  But damn if I didn’t want to give in.

  I had to face it. James was the kind of sexy most girls spent their life searching for. Or at least I did. He did things to me. I wanted to do some things to him. He was strong and able. I could only imagine what he’d do to me in the shower. Our slick soapy bodies wrapped around one another, our lips wet and moist, the smell of his heated skin…

  My knees trembled and my blood was boiling. I wanted to rip his boxers off and take every single thick inch James had to offer. It gave a whole new meaning to the word hot-blooded.

  He stood up and passed me, holding up his towel in explanation. I nodded and allowed him to pass. When his bathroom door closed I took a deep breath and smirked at myself, leaving his room behind.

  Josh was in the kitchen with his slut detector. Brielle wore nothing but a thin white shirt that barely covered the tops of her thighs. She was sitting on the counter eating the chocolate hazelnut spread with her finger. I could only imagine where her finger had been and reminded myself to avoid said jar.

  She curled her lips at me and glared in disgust.

  Josh, on the other hand, slid his eyes across my body over his mug of coffee. “Morning, roommate. Sleep well?”

  His expression made me suspicious. I frowned at him and opened the fridge, searching for something to eat. Thanks to James’s tongue I never got dinner last night or breakfast this morning. The clock on the stove said it was nearing five minutes after noon, already lunch time. “Why are you interested in my sleeping habits?”

  “Yeah,” Brielle chimed in.

  “Go get me a shirt, would you, baby?” Josh asked, his tone clearly dismissive.

  I’d never let a man tell me to get out of the room and leave him alone with a woman like me. But Brielle and I were not the same. She jumped down from the counter and slid her hand possessively over Josh’s abs. “Sure, babe.”

  “You and the dweeb hooked up?” Josh asked the moment she was gone.

  I rose and stalked over to him. “Call him that one more time and I’ll make it so you shoot blanks for the rest of your life.”

  His eyes twinkled. “Your moaning was probably the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Next time close the door if you don’t want me to look. You think I could make you moan that loud?”

  His bullshit was the same as every other man’s. Lame and weak. I cocked my hip and grabbed his jaw in my grip. “You could never make me come that hard.”

  “Oh really? You want to find out?

  “Why are you touching him?” Brielle shrieked, throwing Josh’s shirt at him. “Let him go.”

  I stared at her impassively. She looked ready to pounce. I released Josh’s face and walked around the happy couple. “Not tonight,” I threw over my shoulder, because I was still myself and James and I would only be friends. I had to keep my options before I lost them all.

  “What is she talking about?” Brielle demanded. “You promised, Josh. You wouldn’t cheat on me again. I love you.”

  “Hush,” he said. “I heard you the first ten times.”

  In a way, men weren’t untrustworthy when you didn’t trust them to begin with.

  I grabbed my duffle bag and dragged it into James’s room. He was in the middle of pulling out a pair of folded jeans from his hamper. His towel wrapped around his waist, hanging low and tempting off his hips. The indentations in his pelvis were deep and his dark line of hair glistened damply. I wanted to lick that hair. Bury my tongue in it and feel his coarseness.

  Instead I dragged my bag to the end of his bed and kneeled down, taking my own shirt off. I could feel his eyes on my breasts as I shifted through my clothes for a new shirt. My nipples hardened and excitement settled hot and deep between my thighs. I quickly put on a black bra and followed it with a ripped black Guns N’ Roses tee. I stood and took my shorts off, then slid a pair of white skinny jeans and matching panties over my legs. Locating a hair tie, I balled my unbrushed hair into a bun and then sifted through the mess in my duffle for some socks. It felt far more gratifying not to wear makeup. I hadn’t been wearing nearly as much as I normally do. I wondered if I stopped caring and whether this was what depression felt like. Barely keeping a job, being homeless, my sister still gone, James ripping my soul out through his straw, and I could have none of these things, things I needed to exist.

  James was dressed in jeans and a black hoodie when I finally looked over at him. He stared at his keys on the end table and then glanced at me, appearing to struggle with something.

  “Hungry?” he mouthed.

  Considering Josh and Brielle were still in the kitchen, I doubted eating in today would benefit either of us. And friends did this. They went out for breakfast. “Yes.”

  He motioned for me to follow him. Josh and Brielle were lounging on the couch when we came out. James stared at them in disgust while I hopped into my boots and grabbed my purse. I swore, if Josh did one thing to him he was going to regret it. Brielle openly glared at me. She was next.

  The sun was high in the sky this morning. The slight breeze smelled like cigarettes and something spicy and savory, like chorizo. It made my stomach growl. A group of girls were gathered at the bottom of the stairs, dressed in their clothes from last night and chatting about their antics. Frankly, I preferred doing the walk of shame on my own. One of them, a tall girl with a short haircut and wide hips, paused when she saw James. He didn’t seem to notice her staring. He walked right past them, gaze straight. Now that I knew he thought he was deformed, his ignorance of their staring bothered me. His difference wasn’t on the outside. He acted like it was a grotesque, blatant marking all over his body that deemed him less. In reality I suspected James thought less of himself than anyone else did.

  Differences didn’t make us deformed or inferior. They made us special and unique. James couldn’t hear, but he could see, and one day I hoped he saw how truly special he really was.

  Occupied, I hadn’t even known I’d followed him to a large silver truck. He opened the passenger door and then gave me his hand, helping me up and inside. As he walked around the back I couldn’t help noticing the empty condom wrapper on the floor. It was eased under the mat, forgotten and discarded.

  It lit my blood on fire.

  Was this the girl he was with when I didn’t answer him? The same goody perfect girl who gave him the hickey first?

  The hickey I gave him was covered by his hoodie. I knew it was there. I knew it and I loved it.

  Before I did something that broke the friends-with-benefits-rule, I stepped on the wrapper and ignored it. This is what I wanted. Emotionless sex. No strings. Nothing that would get me caught up. James could sleep with whoever he wanted. I was going to do the same.

  My emotional response, however, didn’t care about the rules. I stared out the window as he drove. In the truck, silence throbbed like a pulse. He seemed immune, driving with his hands on the steering wheel and his eyes straight. I could see him between her legs. Had he lain with her afterwards the same way he lay with me?

  Since when are you a jealous idiot?

  I’d always understood this game. I mastered it and expected the people I played with to have mastered it as well. I knew the men I played with were playing with other women. I just never cared this much before about who they were playing with.

  Thankfully he pulled into a small shopping mall and stopped in front of a Chinese buffet. The silence was killing me, especially considering how badly I wanted to s
how him the condom wrapper and scream, and I wanted out. I scrambled out of the truck and took a deep breath.

  I thought his choice of restaurant was amusing until I followed him inside and realized why he’d chosen it. He wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. He’d get his own drinks, his own food, and no one would ever know he was deaf. My stomach filled with a strange emotion. It wasn’t sadness or pity—because I’d never feel those things about him—but it felt oddly similar. He found a way to exist in this world the same way I had, by involving as few people as possible.

  I weaved my arm through his at the registers, ignoring his curious gaze. The woman behind the counter didn’t even have to ask him a thing. There was only one option and that was for two buffet entrees. He slid his debit card and punched in his pin number, not once meeting the clerk’s eyes.

  He chucked the receipt into a nearby garbage can and then effectively disengaged from my hold. I sighed and kept following. He picked a table far away from everyone else and then shrugged at me.

  “Let’s eat,” he mouthed, giving me a forced smile.

  I couldn’t help myself. I reached up and kissed him. It was soft and chaste, unlike any kiss I had ever given a man, but somehow appropriate. Then we both headed for the buffet and I stacked my plate high with cheese wontons and sweet and sour chicken. I was starving. James and I shoved food into our mouths until our hunger was satiated enough to acknowledge the other.

  He ripped a napkin from the dispenser and wiped his mouth down, leaning back in his seat. His plate was gutted, having downed his fried rice and pot stickers. It seemed eating pussy gave James an appetite.

  To hide my laugh I reached over and stole his last pot sticker, shoving it into my mouth and chewing it so my lips remained busy.

  “Round two?” he asked, shoving his plate aside.

  “Let’s eat,” I agreed.

  Round two consisted of barbecued pork, egg rolls, and mounds of steaming stir-fried noodles. I couldn’t stand another bite by the time I polished off my last piece of eggroll. James looked to be near bursting. He burped unthinkingly, paused, looked around, and then winked at me, smiling crookedly at his mistake.