“Hmmm.” She met my gaze. “I always wanted a big dog. My parents didn’t like them and I never had the opportunity or the space. Or the time to look after one.”
Then she went quiet and simply stared at the photo for ages. I didn’t interrupt. If it helped her heal, it was good. Eventually she fell asleep with the photo on her lap, pinned beneath her hand.
Sometimes, I watched the TV with her cuddled around me while I stroked her beautiful red hair and her ears, sometimes her lips. Kissing her on those plump, sculpted lips wasn’t possible, and that made them more tantalizing. Once, she licked my finger and all I could think of was kissing her. Kissing for me had become a very significant act, once I understood what it did to women. I’d tried not to think of the next logical step after kissing her mouth, which was fucking her there, because it seemed profane in the moment. After that first occasion, I hadn’t pushed for sex. I thought she needed some time without it. I let her heal. I made her heal with my will.
We didn’t speak of Reuben. That was in the future.
After a while, I realized that when she smiled, it didn’t just light up the room, it made my chest ache. That worried me. I didn’t have a cardiac problem.
On the third day, I figured it was time to go further.
I was sitting up with my back against the headboard, and Zorie was snuggled into my side. The long, silken dress she wore was a one-size-fits-all sort I’d bought in a ground floor boutique, yet it clung to her in all the right places. The book she was reading had some foreign historical scene on the cover. I’d bought it too – picked it up from a bin at a bookstore. I doubt it mattered what the story was – anything that took her away from what had happened was good.
But she had to start coming down to earth for I’d done as much as I could. I’d often wondered what my meddling inside a woman’s head did to her. Most times, it only altered how they saw and reacted to me. What Reuben had done though, it’d changed her perspective on life to the point where ending it was her best option. Repairing that...I doubted she could be the same woman.
Yet I’d grown attached to Zorie, and it wasn’t just her body, her femaleness, or even the innocence she still exuded, it was her. What would happen when I messed with her even more?
So much could go wrong, but if I did nothing, more people...women would die horribly.
I didn’t have the freedom to leave this be.
“It’s time to do more,” I said, stirring her hair. I would never be satisfied when it came to letting her hair drift over my hands. The red contrasted with her perfect skin and I decided it was a part of why she seemed unsullied, no matter what debauchery she’d been involved in. “We need to sort out how to kill Reuben.”
She stiffened. “What?”
I waited.
Finally she turned and with her elbow, propped herself on side. “Are you serious? You still expect to kill Reuben?”
“Yes. I’ve always said that, only I can see it will take preparation. I’ll –”
“No, fuck no.” Now she sat up fully, sliding away until she was perched at the edge of the mattress with her legs over the edge. The distance she’d created said I’d alarmed her, a lot.
I could artificially manipulate this, but the whole point was to get her more resistant to commands, not screw her over and make her go back to him. That way wouldn’t help at all.
“I can help you. We barely tried last –”
“No! You have no idea what happened.” She showed gritted teeth. “No idea. I had a gun almost in his face and he stopped me, dead. I couldn’t move. He forced me to fuck myself with the gun.”
I frowned. I hadn’t known that.
“In front of all the others. He made me pull the trigger with it inside me. Do you have any fucking idea how terrified I was? And yet I did it. Because he could control me that well. I thought I was dead, but he’d taken the bullets out while I was semi-conscious. And that was because he’d made me not breathe. He could control my breathing, for god’s sake.”
She slid off the bed to her knees and buried her face in the quilt.
“I’m not going back to him to try again. I’m not.”
“You’re my best weapon, Zorie. You’re the best hope for a lot of people. Your potential is huge. I believe I can help you see how to resist him. I do. I need someone like you, Zorie.” I held out my hands, palm up. “I haven’t begged anyone for anything for years. Please.”
“No.” She drew in a long, sniffly breath. God, it hurt to hurt her. “No. Find another...weapon. It’s not me. I’m done.” Shakily, like she’d gained a thousand years in age, she stood. In a rusty voice she added, “Not me. I think you’ve helped me enough that I can run away from him, and for that...” She met my gaze. “I’m very thankful, but I can’t do what you want me to. I can’t.”
I nodded. “I see.”
“I’m a weapon?” Her mouth screwed up. “Funny. I know nothing is normal, but I thought I was more than that to you.”
Not a question. A statement. Debating this with her was futile.
“This will help others, other women who are probably suffering as badly as you have, and still it’s no?”
“It’s no. I’m going now. Unless you make me stay. Not doing that? No? You’re letting this weapon go?” The crease in her forehead spoke of a struggle and I could sense it inside her also. “I’m going, and I hope I won’t ever see you again. Thank you for your help.” Then she slipped off the bed and headed for the door.
Anger kindled. “I could make you stay.” A foolish thing to say. There was no point, unless I only wanted to make her an acquisition of mine. For a moment I thought that through. I could take her to Greece. Easily.
For once, I held back. It seemed vulgar to force her after what Reuben had done. Where the hell had these new morals sprung from?
“You could,” she said quietly, not turning around. “And I’m aware enough now that I know that deep down inside, no matter how much you made me love you, I would hate you for it too.”
That scorched me, sinking through my bones and heart in a solid chunk of cruelty.
Then she gathered up her car keys and her purse that I’d rescued from her car, and she began to slip on the small flat shoes I’d bought her.
“He married you. No matter where you go, if he’s alive, he will find you, Zorie.”
“I have somewhere.”
I considered that. Where? “Your sister’s? You’ll need money, and you can’t go home to get clothes. Don’t use your credit card. I don’t know if he can track purchases but it’s possible. Take some cash from my wallet. It’s on the small table next to the sofa.”
She barely nodded but when she went out to the living room area, I thought I heard her take some money. Then she left.
The door shut. I’d not bothered to move from the bed.
There went my plans and possibly also a part of me I hadn’t known I’d given to her.
If I could think of her sister’s place, so could he.
I couldn’t follow her everywhere and she wouldn’t want me to. Giving her a choice went against everything I’d done for many years but it was the only method that might work.
She’d either come back to me, or she’d have a brutally short future.
Choices could be excruciating. I went and poured myself a full glass of Laphroaig Scotch then sat down and nursed it for an hour.
By any of normal society’s standards I was a bad guy but I was trying to do something good here, and it wasn’t working out. Maybe someone better at violence would go in guns blazing and take out Reuben and his friends, and that’d get them in jail. I couldn’t afford that. I was a psychologist with an add-on doctorate in the mind control of ladies. I’d never knifed, shot, or garroted anyone.
Whereas Zorie had a history of doing what needed doing when crunch time came. Only once, and in her distant past, but she was willing to kill Reuben too, or had been until he scared her.
Still, I felt like an asshole. I swigged do
wn the last of the Laphroaig. Probably because I was one.
Fuck choices.
Chapter 26
“...a stealthily approaching menace; not death, but some nameless, unheard-of thing inexpressibly more ghastly and abhorrent.”
- H. P Lovecraft
Zorie
He, Mister Black, was right. I shouldn’t go home. After three days, four? Was it that long? Reuben might be...I sighed out a hard breath, thinking. Okay, he would be waiting for me. Dying in public could be mucked up and bodies not found for ages, but more likely he’d realize I’d not done it at all. I had the dress, shoes, and underwear I had on and my car, a pistol, and four hundred and seventy-five dollars. The train to Perth alone was going to cost me a stack of that. I needed more.
At the university I could get more cash. The small kayaking club I was co-president of during term, we had a kitty that was kept in the staff safe. Cash that was used for small things. Another three or four hundred would be in there, and it would make a difference. Plus I had spare clothes.
It was worth it. I’d leave a note that I’d reimburse them, which I would do, but from Perth. I was going to disappoint some people taking that money. Might even make them want me charged with stealing. I was going to lose my job anyway, and make it hard to get work for a long, long time. That all made me sad.
I toyed with the car keys where they hung from the ignition.
Sad wasn’t terrifying, it was just a hollow feeling inside my gut that would eventually fade. It wasn’t a devastating, mind-numbing fear and, besides, I had no choice.
My sister Amelia would be puzzled, but she’d help me.
“That’s it then.” I drove out of the underground car park to find Mister B had paid for the park for several days and I spun the wheel, drove into the sunlight, and headed for the uni.
If I’d owned a pet, it would’ve been not just dead but mummified by now. Mister B, damn him, had an Irish Wolfhound called Pelagia or something. Lucky bastard. I’d bet he had a groundskeeper or someone looking after her. I’d bet a million dollars he never boarded the dog.
The man had lent me so much money. Was it because I was a potential weapon, or was there more to it? I didn’t know and didn’t care to find out. I was so over being controlled. Why he couldn’t be his own weapon? I had no real understanding of his reasons.
The university hallways were as crowded as a restaurant with zombie on the menu. Morbid jokes R us. My clothes in the locker were just a spare pair of jeans and two T-shirts. One lab experiment where a decapitated rat had squirted blood across my lab coat and down my collar had taught me that I needed extra clothes kept here.
The money in the kitty was only three fifty but it’d do. I closed the safe, then went and sat awhile in my office. Everything I regarded as my real life was going away. With all this, I was abandoning myself. Self-preservation, but it was so difficult. I wrapped my hands over my head, staring at my framed degree, at the photos of kids from my lectures. Sports days, kayaking with friends, stuff that was the concrete foundations of my soul. Gone.
I was strong enough to get by this. I would.
As I passed the one, complacent, security guard, I waved. I’d explained my errand. He was doing his rounds and possibly the only guard in the whole building.
The ballet flats made soft scuffing noises on the floor. The fluorescent lights seemed dimmer than normal. The doors seemed to stick. The bloody place echoed without people.
No matter where I went or what I did, I felt that creepy horror movie tingle. Just around the corner might be him, or this one, or that one. I made it down all the fucking uncrowded hallways and into the elevator and stood there tapping my keycard in my hand, as if having it ready was a six gun I could use on any intruder in the car park. If I screamed loudly would the guard hear me?
Hell no. The place was stories high and there might be a horde of serial killer clowns down there, and the only witness would be the cameras. Cue the evil violin music.
Making jokes to myself wasn’t helping.
To my relief, there was no one in the car park – just six or so cars and mine was close to the elevator. Heart slowing, I set out to traverse the five yards. Sprinting would be silly, despite how nervous I was.
Fuck Reuben. I’d thought Mister Black had cured me of fear but no, he’d only made me happier temporarily. I flicked the car opener and the Mazda blinked and bleeped at me.
Reuben deserved to die but Mister Black was going to have find another tool to execute him.
I double checked the vicinity before moving.
The metal of the door was still warm from the sun. And it didn’t open. Some days, my car was a little premature in relocking itself. I fumbled, turning the electronic car key to the button side.
Booking a train ticket on the internet was out, but I prayed I could get one at the station that’d at least get me miles out of Sydney. The car bleeped and blinked again and the door opened when I pulled. I tossed in my bag. I could get to Perth in –
I couldn’t move.
Except to blink. Tears leaked from my eyes as footsteps drew closer. The footsteps of more than one person.
I could see the steering wheel, feel the keys in my hand but I couldn’t turn to see...
I knew who was behind me.
Chapter 27
“Disintegration is quite painless, I assure you.” - H. P Lovecraft
Zorie
Reuben’s hands dragged my head around. “Hello, Zorie.” Then he kissed me, crushing my lips. “Where did you think you were going?”
I found I could speak. Courage came from somewhere; besides, I knew nothing I said would stop him. “Away from you.”
His laughter was quiet. How classically chiseled and handsome he was, with his blondeness and striking face. Even his blond eyebrows were perfect, while Mister Black was a little ragged around the edges. I could see Reuben in a commercial for cologne or surf clothing.
Before fear overwhelmed me, or he could think to stop me, I spat on him.
He only flinched a little and didn’t slap or hurt me. I think that scared me more than straight assault would’ve.
“Christ. Bitch.” He picked up the side of my dress and wiped his face. “Let’s get this done.”
“Open space in the middle?” I couldn’t turn my head enough to see the speaker, but it was Madoc. “Under that camera?”
“Yes.”
I could guess what they intended. How could I get out of this? Why here? I didn’t want to know the answer.
Smiling, as if this were a picnic outing, Reuben stepped back and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
I took his hand, because he made me. I walked across the concrete despite the gibbering cries in my mind and the cyclone of panic rising. Nothing prevented my limbs from moving. If I’d collapsed, they would’ve carried me. I wanted that. Needed it. But couldn’t even have that modicum of salve for my honor.
None of them gave away that I was their victim. Dirke and Madoc walked ahead and stopped beside one of the concrete pillar supports. The longer they delayed, the more likely someone would see the camera footage or arrive for their car. Maybe save me.
Please, please, someone come down here.
Our shoes tapped out my doom.
Take off your dress. The command arrived in my mind. His obedient robot, I pulled it over my head and stood there shivering. Shivers wouldn’t show on camera, and if they did, who would know that it was because I was scared?
“What a slut you are, Zorie.”
More commands. I laughed at his words. He kissed me again, the frissons of lust now spinning through my body and brushing off like floating feathers, enlivening my body with heat until I moaned.
More commands. I turned and bent over, put one palm on the column while I wriggled my panties partway down, enough to show off my slit.
“Damn. You pick the best little sluts, man.” Dirke chuckled then leaned in to grab my breast and bite me then kiss me, leaving a trail of slob
ber on my face.
“We’re going to fuck every hole you have, my girl and you love it, don’t you?” Reuben slid fingers into my entrance then his thumb gathered my moisture and probed my asshole. “Here, there, everywhere.”
Say yes. Say it loud.
“Yes. Yes, I do! Unh!” I gasped as it seemed he thrust every digit on his hand miles deep into me somewhere down there.
From the pressure in and on my flesh, my pussy had the most of him. I tried to hold back my reaction, but couldn’t help the rise of pleasure, the spiral upward as my nerves awoke, or prevent my back from bowing as places on me swelled and leaked, throbbed and clenched, in a messy and disgusting preparation so these men could fuck me more efficiently – betrayed by my body, even if he commanded it.
“That’s it.” Dirke remarked, sardonically. “Look at her shoving her sloppy cunt at you. She wants it bad.”
“More.” I sobbed when Reuben screwed his hand in deeper...pain, pleasure...but I thrust back, then I shut my eyes and was thankful he let me have that escape.
I panted, I keened, I regularly cried out to them to fuck me with their cocks instead. At the same moments as I shriveled inside at my blasphemy.
“More. Please, please, please.”
My legs and arms shook as I stayed where he wanted me, bent over at the column.
Someone yanked down my bra cups then mouthed, sucked, lapped on my nipples, going quickly from one to the other, grabbing each tit as handfuls, making them wet and my nipples jut out in little erect buttons. Sensations rippled to my crotch and hot-wired to my clit. Someone bit my side, my ass, my neck, while they half-choked me. Finally, at last, at frigging last, a cock was shoved into my pussy, thick and pulsing, pushing aside my creaming yet reluctant yet craving flesh. They violated me in spite of the volume and frequency of my cries of more and fuck me harder. I came hard, panting, trembling, my thighs already slippery with my juices.
“More?” Someone asked.
“Yes!”
Fingers, hands, tongues and cocks massaged my clit. Someone kneeled down there and they began to lick. They pulled me around, so my head was lower and put cock in there. My mind was pulled apart, into pieces I couldn’t focus, and I felt everything at once and separately.
Wicked Ways (Dark Hearts Book 1) Page 14
