Craving Control

by Kylie Hillman

  There will be no encore.

  The sound of the bedroom door breaking pulls me from my impending orgasm. I turn around just in time to see Mik and Benji force their way into the bedroom. Mik pulls me off Maddi, he throws me to the floor then he hammers his fists into my face like a man possessed.

  My nose shatters. My eye socket explodes. My jaw breaks.

  Still he continues to hit me.

  “Die, you fucking piece of shit.” He shouts at me.

  Raining down more blows, he glares at me with eyes that foretell my death. “You’re going to die, motherfucker.”

  I’m about the embrace the end when he’s pulled off me. I lie on the floor, unable to catch my breath, watching Benji scream at Mik in panic.

  “I don’t know what to do.” He jams his bloody hands in his hair, yanking hard, before he points at his twin. “I think she’s dead.”

  With that news, I stop trying to breathe. I can go now. I will die a happy man, knowing that Maddi will be in the afterlife with me.

  Someone stomps my groin. My eyes fly open, my head lifting from the floor as I holler with agony, and I see Mik raising his foot to repeat his previous move. I try to cover myself, but the kick never comes. Benji drags him off me.

  “You’ve gotta help me,” he cries. “I’ve found a pulse. She still breathing, but only barely.”

  They turn their attention to Maddi. My shattered face aches. My eyes burn, and I try to blink away the pain. Nothing works, the burning keeps coming. I blink faster.

  There is a new wetness on my cheeks. I lift my trembling hand to see where it’s coming from and trace the path back to the corner of my eye.

  I’m crying.

  I haven’t done that since I was three and my father took his belt to my back for acting like a little pansy.

  Mik’s voice floats over to me. He’s comforting Maddi, and I begin to worry that I’m going to die without her.

  I can’t face that prospect.

  Surely the world wouldn’t be that cruel?

  “I’m here, angel ... He can’t hurt you anymore ... Don’t go to sleep on me,” he croons to my woman. His voice wavers, his pain clear. I take a moment to rejoice knowing that I caused it. I broke him. “I’m so sorry, my love. Fuck ... I didn’t realise he was hurting you like this ... I should’ve known. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”

  He chants the last four words over and over.

  I let them lull me as the Maddi-scented darkness invades my sight. He’s saying everything I would if I ever had the chance to hold her in my arms again. She was an angel sent to save me, and all I did was steal her wings to stop her from flying away from me.

  I am an irredeemable monster.

  I destroy everything I love.

  I failed Maddi.

  I failed myself.

  I am sorry.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Three and a half years later

  It’s been two years, four weeks, and six days since I last saw Madelaine O’Brien. That was the day she took the stand at my trial and lied through her newly capped teeth about what happened that fateful night.

  I can still hear her voice as she sold her bullshit to the jury.

  “It was a one-off incident,” she’d told them. “We fought over something—I can’t even remember what it was about. I said something stupid and he snapped. He beat me, then he raped me. He was still hurting me when my twin brother returned home with our childhood friend and they saved me.”

  She always did know how to emasculate a man.

  I lost a lot of respect for her that day.

  If she’d had the guts to tell the truth—to detail the real highs and lows of our relationship. To paint an accurate portrait of how evil I was back then, of how badly I’d treated her, how horribly I’d ruined her life, I would have forgiven her for choosing him over me.

  It would have hurt, but I could have lived with the knowledge that I’d fundamentally changed her.

  That she still thought about me every day because I was now part of her.

  When she’d sat in front of me in the court room and minimised the indelible impact that I’d had on her, I’d decided then and there that it wasn’t over between us. She could help the authorities lock me up, but I’d still come back for her one day.

  The guilty verdict wasn’t a surprise.

  The sentence—two years with a non-parole period of eighteen months—was.

  I’d expected my father to protect me. Instead, he’d hung me out to dry. He said I was an embarrassment, that I needed to fade from the spotlight for a while to give people time to forget what I’d done. He’d left me no choice, except to agree.

  Eighteen months is a long time to stew.

  If I’m honest, I started plotting ways to get Lainey back on the day I regained consciousness in the hospital.

  So, it’s really been three and a half years of carrying a grudge and designing the perfect revenge.

  It’s almost time. I’m out of prison with six months of parole to endure.

  Everything I’ve planned is about to be put into action.

  I will be ready to pounce on the day I become a free man

  If I told you I wasn’t excited, I’d be lying.

  On the outside, I look the same. When I speak, I sound the same. It seems like nothing much about me has changed yet I’m a completely different man. I’m a little older. A hell of a lot wiser. I’ve loved, and I’ve lived through the loss. I have my demons on a tighter leash. I now rule them instead of the other way around. I’m more calculating and less prone to following my current whim headfirst into trouble.

  My unusual tastes have matured, leaving me hungering after one singular item on the menu.

  Her.

  You see, when they brought me into court the day she testified, I had entered head over heels in love with Maddi.

  By the time, they locked me up, I was left heartbroken from her loss, and hell bent on avenging her.

  The Maddi I loved died that night in our bedroom.

  In her place, Mik Kennedy resurrected his angel—a meek, compliant woman who wouldn’t even meet my eyes while she lied through her teeth about me. The woman on the stand was his version of Madelaine O’Brien. She wasn’t my Maddi any longer, she was his Lainey.

  It’s too bad for him that I’ve returned to resurrect the real woman behind that name.

  I’m back to punish them both for their sins and destroy them with Maddi’s renaissance in the process.

  *

  The air tastes different on the other side of the prison walls.

  That’s the first thought that enters my head as I emerge from Wolston Correctional Centre. I’m a partially free man today, having served the non-parole period of my sentence. I have six months of home detention to complete in the comfort of my family mansion before I’m totally free from the nightmare of the past four years.

  “Over here, Mr. Taylor.” The driver beckons me over to the car where my father hides from the hovering media. The vultures swarm around me after he says my name, but the prison guard escorting me from the premises is nice enough to push them out of the way.

  Not that it matters. With or without our cooperation, they’ll still snap their pictures and plaster my face all over the five o’clock news and every paper in the country.

  The release of the Minister for Police’s rapist son makes for a juicy sound bite.

  Ducking my head, I enter the limo through the door the driver is holding open for me. He slams it shut immediately and I take the nearest seat. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the difference between the bright sunlight and the artificial lighting in the limo, but when they do, I discover that I have a larger than expected audience.

  “Well,” I drawl, as the limo takes off at speed. “It’s nice to see you’ve rallied the troops for little old me.”

  My father snorts. “It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your juvenile sense of humour.”

  I lift my eyebrows at him, the
n address the man sitting across from me. “Beast. What a surprise.”

  Lainey’s father looks like he’s on the verge of vomiting at the sight of me. To his credit, he quickly regroups and hides his revulsion behind a business-like façade.

  “Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he replies. “I’ve thrown my lot in with worse.”

  Considering what I did to his daughter, I find it hard to believe. Then again, Beast’s own moral compass is busted beyond repair, so he probably knows a fellow or two who would make me look like an angel.

  “You must be Stu,” I turn in my seat and greet the other man in the vehicle with us. Out of the three of them, he is the least known to me, yet he will play the largest part in ensuring my success. “I hear you’re my new right-hand man.”

  “I am.”

  “You seem like a man of few words,” I quip.

  Truthfully, he seems like a robot.

  “I am,” he replies.

  “Are you capable of saying anything else,” I ask. “Or would that mess with your daily word allocation and render you unable to speak tomorrow?”

  Dad shakes his head at my antics.

  Beast smirks, like I’ve just confirmed all his suspicions about my mental state.

  Stu simply blinks.

  “Whoops,” I say with a chuckle. “I think I broke him.”

  My father glares at me, then opens his brief case and pulls out a bunch of files. He leans closer to Beast and they converse in low voices while they go over the paperwork together. I sit back in my seat and try to picture what Lainey’s doing right now.

  Is she scared knowing that I’m out of prison? Or has she forgotten all about me?

  I guess I’ll find out soon.

  “Little friendly advice,” Stu slides closer to me on the seat. “Cut the clown act and get your head in the game. I don’t run half-assed operations, and I don’t appreciate cocky pricks like you mocking me when they haven’t a fucking clue how to survive without Daddy’s money to save them.”

  Clasping my hands behind my head, I relaxed deeper into the upholstery and burst into laughter.

  My father ignores me, and Beast takes his cue from him.

  Stu moves back over his side of the limo and regards me through curious eyes.

  “You’re not quite right, are you?”

  “Definitely not,” I reply. “And if you keep up this pissing contest, you’re going to find yourself drowning. She is my target. This my operation. The only thing you’re running right now is your mouth and I suggest that you stop before it gets you into a situation you can’t handle.”

  I eyeball him until he drops my gaze, then close my eyes and let the smooth motion of the limo send me to sleep.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Five months later

  The house that Stu arranged across the parklands from Lainey’s is perfect. If I didn’t think it would go straight to his head, I’d let him know how impressed I am. Every time I visit, I marvel at little more at how well he’s done.

  He’s set up a telescope in the office that offers a bird’s eye view inside the front rooms. The main bedroom has been sound-proofed and the security system he’s installed is as good at keeping people locked inside as it is at keeping them out.

  Everything is set.

  Now, I have to bide my time.

  Thirty-four more days and I’m a free man.

  That’s thirty-three more than I think I can survive right now.

  My need to touch her is making me itch. It’s been almost four years since I last felt her smooth skin. I miss her scent. I miss how she tastes. I miss the way her wet heat held me tight.

  I miss every single thing about her.

  Even her smart mouth and her inability to follow rules.

  Especially her need to challenge me. Some days, I think that is what I miss the most.

  “Boss.” Stu enters the office. “The team is waiting for you.”

  Inclining my head, I sit in the chair behind the telescope and move my head to the eyepiece. The two-storey house comes into view. It’s plain—a rendered cream colour with stained woodwork embellishments. I can’t see anything special about it. It wouldn’t be one tenth of the size of the mansion.

  A blue sedan—the exact shade of Lainey’s favourite colour—pulls into the driveway. I hold my breath, anticipation at seeing her sending shockwaves through my body.

  I’m in luck.

  Lainey emerges from the car and heads straight down the drive to check her letter box. Shuffling through the mail she finds, she pays little attention to her surroundings. If I was close enough, I could reach out and touch her before she even noticed I was there.

  “You’re an angel,” I mutter to myself, wishing she could hear me. “A perfect, perfect angel.”

  Wandering back up the drive, she waits on the second step of the staircase that leads to her front door on the second storey. I observe with fascination as she tucks her mail between her legs, then reaches above her head to loosen her messy bun.

  My cock hardens in my trousers as I watch her perform the ritual that I’ve seen her complete many times. Lainey shakes her hair free until it flows like golden waves around her shoulders and down her back. It’s slightly longer than I remember, although it looks as silky as ever. She combs away some knots, then gathers her hair and reties it on top of her head.

  Her glorious tits jiggle under her satin shirt as she works. I take a moment to pray that I didn’t scar them on the night I lost my mind. Lainey smooths down her shirt, then cocks her head to the side and smiles. I hold my breath, trying to hear what she does. It takes a minute, but when I hear it, I know immediately why she was preening herself.

  Or, rather, for whom.

  The rumble of a motorcycle engine splits the suburban quiet. Mik Kennedy speeds down the street, then turns into Lainey’s driveaway. He parks his Harley next to her car, and she skips down the walkway to greet him.

  He takes her in his arms, holding her tight against him with his hands linked at the small of her back. Lainey goes willingly. She melts into his embrace and lifts her beautiful face to his. As I watch, Mik presses his lips against hers. The sight of them together sends a tsunami of bile rising in my throat that threatens to choke me.

  I don’t want to look any more, yet I can’t drag my eyes away.

  Lainey deepens the kiss when she parts her lips and tempts his tongue with hers. When his hands drop lower, seeking the round globes of her ass, I can’t take it any longer. I stand, my chair falling over behind me, then I lash out.

  After kicking the telescope over, I search the office for more things to destroy. My frustrations need to find an outlet right away or I’m going to grab one of the guns in this house and march across the parklands to permanently separate them. The commotion I’m making brings Stu running into the room. He skids to a stop and throws his hands in the air.

  “What are you doing?”

  Like a demon possessed, I whirl around and stalk toward him. Poking him in the chest, I demand answers.

  “How long have they been together? Does he live with her? Are they fucking? Why wasn’t I told about them?”

  Stu backs away. His eyes flash with something that resembles empathy until I poke him again.

  “Listen, it wasn’t my idea,” he says, after a noticeable delay. “Your father didn’t think you’d be able to handle the news, so we were told to keep it out of the reports until he could tell you himself. I’m guessing that never happened?”

  “Your guess is correct.”

  He shakes his head and lays a hand on my shoulder. “Look it sucks, but you have to see the bright side. You’ll have her back soon and he’ll never be able to touch her again.”

  As bright sides go, it’s not much.

  Right now, it’s all I have.

  The most important thing I learnt when I was sent to prison was that I needed to stop reacting to the things I couldn’t control, and start creating circumstances that I could. The only thing
I can do with this new knowledge is bide my time. Once I have Lainey back under my roof, in an environment where I control all the variables, I can re-examine the way I’m feeling at the moment and draw on it for inspiration if need be.

  Until then, I have to keep my wits.

  I clap Stu on the back.

  “Good advice.” I sound a lot calmer than I feel.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiles—the first wholly human expression I’ve seen on his face. “Now, let’s get back to work. We have a kidnapping to plan.”

  With my spirits bent, but nowhere near broken, I follow him out of the office and into the kitchen.

  A motley crew of degenerates is assembled. They stand around the kitchen island, all affecting various stances that scream of their desperate need to compensate for whatever they’re lacking as a man, discussing a bunch of property plans and Lainey’s schedule.

  “Boss, this is Cain, Duke, and Si,” Stu points at them individually as he introduces them.

  I let my gaze flit to them when he says they’re name, but I don’t bother to try to remember which name goes with each man. As far as I am concerned, they could be named Marcia, Jan, and Cindy. It doesn’t matter as long as they complete the job that I’m paying them to do and keep their mouths shut afterward.

  The brawniest one—Duke, I think—stabs his finger on the photograph of the building where Lainey works as a Trainee Lawyer. “We need to snatch her from here. It’s the only place that makes sense. Everywhere else she goes, she has a Black Shamrock attached to her ass.”

  Taking a seat on one of the bar stools, I steeple my fingers and lean my chin on them. My elbows hurt from holding the weight of my head off the hard counter-top, but I let the lick of pain wash over me and strengthen my resolve.

  “Why are we still debating the grab zone?” I inquire in a tired voice. Looking at Stu, I frown while I bitch him out. “You’ve had months to organise this. I thought we had it close to settled last time I was here?”

  The three men look at Stu, who drags in a deep breath then lets it exhale slowly. He walks around the island bench and sits on the stool opposite me.