Filthy 5: A Dark Erotic Serial

by Martin, Megan D.

  Yes, it’s fucking wrong. You’re worse than your father.

  It was those words that stopped me. That proved I was just as much of a monster as Taylor was. What kind of man wanted to hide a woman away from all the other eyes of the world? What kind of man did that?

  A man like Taylor.

  So she had gone to work. Riding with me each day. Our rides had been quiet. We didn’t talk much. Just things about the case, or small talk. Neither of us ever brought up what happened in her bedroom that night. I wondered if she thought about it. About me.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I looked up at Sarah, who stood across from me while I dressed. She was already fully clothed. I had forgotten she was even there.

  “Yes.”

  “We don’t have to do this for her, you know. She can earn enough money to get it herself now that she works.”

  I blinked at Sarah. She had been Faye’s biggest advocator for the longest time. But now there was something else going on. I could tell. She wasn’t as sympathetic to Faye anymore. She seemed annoyed with her presence. I could understand why, I supposed. Every waking moment I had went into working on the case against my father. Faye was in our home, everywhere. She worked where I did. There was never a moment Sarah and I had to ourselves. Not anymore.

  It was funny because I didn’t miss the alone time. Not really.

  “It’s her birthday. Of course I’m certain.” I buttoned my pants and moved toward the mirror, buttoning my sleeves.

  “I just don’t think this was the right kind of investment for her.”

  I turned around, frowning. “What do you mean?”

  Sarah stood across from me, ringing her hands. “I just don’t think she’s ready for this. Or that we are ready to foot the bill when she wrecks the car. She doesn’t even know how to drive, Rhett.”

  I’d considered all of these things before I went to the dealership yesterday with Cayden. The dangers, everything that could potentially fuck me over when it came to buying Faye a car. But I hadn’t thought about them for long. All I could see was the joy on her face when she saw the pretty new car. And I wanted that. Her joy. Was I that pathetic? Was I the man who would buy a woman a car just for a few moments of affection?

  I glanced down at the keys on my dresser. Apparently I was.

  “I’m going to teach her. She will be fine.” I waved her away and pocketed the keys.

  “Yes, but you didn’t even discuss it with me. And it’s a brand new car.”

  Ah, so that was the problem. I considered sitting down and explaining to her that I trusted Faye, that I would be careful. I wouldn’t just send her out into the world in a brand new car and leave us to be monetarily responsible. She knew Faye as well as I did now, and knew that she wouldn’t just ditch us. Those thoughts were long gone now, with the real reasoning of her running away coming to light. Just thinking of that was like a knife to the gut.

  “It’s fine.” I turned away from her.

  “Fine? That’s all you’re going to say?” She didn’t raise her voice. Sarah wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a woman who got angry or vicious. Instead it was the exact opposite. Her voice lowering until it was almost a whisper. Her tears would come next. The thought of them made my skin crawl. I didn’t want to see them. I couldn’t stand them. Tears for what? Tears because I’m going to spend my own fucking money on a car for the one person on this planet who actually deserved something nice? No, I wasn’t going to let her guilt me with her tears.

  I moved toward the door just as a whimper came from between her lips. The sound made me freeze and I spun around, the urge to provoke her festered under my skin. I needed to yell at someone. And I needed them to yell back at me. That’s what I wanted. Anger. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, Sarah.”

  She blinked hard and nodded her head. Tears leaking down her cheeks. “Okay,” she mouthed, but I couldn’t hear her. Her voice was all choked up with tears, her flat red hair falling around her face as her shoulders began to shake.

  “I can spend my money how I fucking please.” My voice was louder now. Angrier. I was the man who walked away. I was the man who didn’t kick people when they were down. Especially Sarah. But I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t see past this moment and her tears. Tears that were always the same. They didn’t make me feel anything anymore. Nothing except loathing. It shouldn’t have been that way. Sarah was the love of my life. Her tears shouldn’t abhors me. But they did.

  I wanted her to yell at me, to tell me what a piece of shit I really was. That would have worked better, didn’t she know that?

  But she didn’t know. Because if she did she probably would have used that tactic a long time ago. Then again she probably didn’t have the balls.

  “I’m s-sorry, you’re right,” she squeaked out, rubbing her hands up and down her face.

  And I hated that more. The apology. For what? Why would she apologize? I was the asshole. I was the one dictating everything in this conversation. The only thing she had brought to it was her fucking tears. She was sorry. She was fucking sorry. And I would bet a million dollars that she didn’t know why. That all she wanted was for me to wrap my arms around her and tell her it would all be okay. But that would be a lie too. Things wouldn’t be okay. My father had raped my sister every day since she was nine years old. Until he got her pregnant. Until her ripped the baby from her. Until she was nothing but a shell of her former self willing to fuck anyone or anything for a bump of coke to make all the pain go away. Nothing could ever change that.

  I could never change that.

  “I’m leaving.” I turned away. I couldn’t look at her anymore. Couldn’t acknowledge the fact that I had been living this pretty life with Sarah in a quaint apartment. She was a reminder. A reminder of how I had failed Faye.

  “Morning,” Faye said pleasantly as she stepped out of her bedroom a few minutes later.

  “Morn—” But the word died in my throat as it often did when I saw Faye in the morning. I had thought she was beautiful the day I picked her up off the street, when her body was too skinny, destroyed by drugs and malnourishment. But now she was something else. Something spectacular and bright. Each day she seemed to become more beautiful. Her body was so curvy, and accentuated under the tight black pencil skirt she wore. A half-sleeve white top was tucked into the skirt and black heels were on her feet. Her long black hair was down. Sarah had taken her to get it cut a few weeks ago and it fell in wavy disarray around her shoulders.

  Her face had a little more color in it now. She’d helped us move Cayden and Katie into their new house a few weeks back and had spent the entire day outside in shorts and a t-shirt, a sight that captivated me more than it should have.

  She moved around me and into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out a bottle of water. I watched as she bent over, her pert as pressing against the tight skirt. I could make out the outline of her ass. Of the thong she wore underneath. I hadn’t seen these clothes before. Was it sad that I knew her wardrobe?

  I almost asked her where she got them, before I remembered what day it was.

  “Happy birthday.”

  She turned around, a small crook in the corner of her lips that made me want to kiss her.

  “You remembered.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t forget. Come on.” I motioned for her to follow me out the door. “I want to give you your present.”

  “My present? But you and Sarah, already gave me this.” She motioned to her outfit. “She took me shopping yesterday when you were in afternoon court.”

  So that explained the new outfit.

  “That was her gift. I want to give you mine.”

  Her dark eyes widened. The little tiny ring of gold around the pupil seeming to expand. It was captivating. I forced myself to look away. She couldn’t see it. I didn’t want her to see how much I wanted her. How much I fucking craved every little scrap of interaction she would willingly give me.

  She followed me ou
t to the car, the click of her heels on the pavement was enough to have me rock-fucking-hard in my pants. I was glad I walked ahead of her, so I could adjust myself without her seeing.

  “My present is outside?” she asked curiously.

  “Yes, just back here.” She followed me around the back of our building. My eyes locked onto the new black Honda Civic. It was shiny, freshly waxed. The only thing it didn’t have was a big fucking bow on top. I stopped just in front of it.

  She glanced around, the wind blowing her hair back from her face. “Is Sarah going to bring it out?”

  “No.” My lips curved into a smile while I watched her eyes dart around with curious excitement. I’d seen her look like this a few times. When she first started at the firm she had been nervous, but there had been a sparkle in her eyes that did something to me. It woke me up inside and made my heart pound erratically in my chest.

  “Oh?”

  “Your present is right here.”

  “Here? Where?”

  I motioned to the car before us.

  She stared at it for a moment. Her eyes taking in the curvy physique. “Wait, what is it?”

  “The car.”

  “This car?” She motioned toward the civic.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  She sucked in a breath. “What—you—” She covered her mouth, her black purse slipping down her arm.

  “Yes.”

  “Oh my God!” I expected her to run to the car to open it, to shriek over the new leather seats inside, to run her fingers over the wheel. I wanted to see her do it. I could pretend like it was my skin her fingers touched later when I got off in the shower. But she didn’t.

  Instead she turned and threw her arms around me. It was so unexpected that I stumbled back a step as my arms came around her, pulling her into an embrace. We didn’t touch, not intentionally at least. If anything, I had done everything I could to avoid her. To keep from touching her. The more it happened, the more I wanted it to happen.

  We hadn’t embraced. Not like this. I hadn’t held her hand in more than a month. Even in those moments when I went to her when she had bad dreams. I didn’t touch her. I just stood at the door now and she would tell me what happened. Tell me what my fucked up father was still doing to her in her dreams.

  Her body started to shake after a few moments. I pulled back, shocked to see tears on her cheeks. In a weird way, these had the opposite effect on me than Sarah’s did. All I wanted to do was make them go away.

  “Why are you crying?”

  She shook her head and took a step back, which made me only want to pull her closer.

  I didn’t.

  “Sorry, I just. I’ve never gotten a gift like this before. Are you sure you want to give me this?” She stepped up and brushed her hand against the shiny black paint.

  “Of course I’m sure. You deserve it.”

  “But I don’t know how to drive.”

  “I’m going to teach you.”

  Her eyes lit up when she looked back at me. “Really?”

  There was so much hope in her voice it made my heart threaten to beat out of my chest.

  “Of course. You can’t have a pretty new car like this and not know how to drive.”

  “But, you paid for this? I can’t even imagine how expensive something like this is.” She stepped off the curve and moved around the car, dragging her fingers along the paint.

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Are you sure?”

  I rolled my eyes and smiled. “You better not ask me that again. Come on, get in and see how it feels.” I pulled the keys out of my pocket and handed them to her.

  She fumbled with the fab before getting it unlocked and climbing in. I moved around to the passenger side and got in.

  She laid the keys on the console and rubbed her fingers up and down the leather on the wheel—and there was the image I had been looking for. Her simple, trimmed nails brushing lightly against the leather.

  “I can’t believe you did this.” Her gaze was all over the place, taking everything in.

  “Oh, and I meant to give you this in the house.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a cell phone. I’d been meaning to get her one, especially now that she worked.

  She stared down at the illuminated screen. “Are you serious?” She gingerly took the phone from me and cradled it in her hand.

  “Of course.” I wanted to say more. But I didn’t. Instead I just watched her.

  After a moment she sighed and handed the phone back to me.

  “What’s the matter?” I frowned.

  “I can’t accept all these gifts, Rhett. You and Sarah have done so much for me already, this is—”

  “No.” I cut her off. I hadn’t imagined that she would try to turn my gifts down. “I wanted to do this for you. You deserve to have nice things. You’ve turned your life around, and yeah. You deserve it.”

  “I don’t want you to give me these things because you feel sorry for me,” she said the words quickly, as if she was afraid to say them.

  Before she could say anything more I grabbed her hand in mine. It felt right. I had missed it, slipping her fingers in between mine like I had at the hospital. Their touch made me feel grounded. “Look at me, Faye.” Her dark gaze met mine and I could see the tears welling there. The little scar just above her eyebrow. It was healed now. Pink in color. In time it would fade more until it was nothing but a simple white sliver against her skin. No one would know it was there. Same for the one along the crook of her lips. “I bought these things for you because you’re an amazing, beautiful woman.”

  Her eyes widened.

  I hadn’t planned to say these things but they just started pouring out.

  “And you deserve to have nice things—”

  “But—”

  “Let me finish.” I stopped her. “Not because of the things that piece of shit did to you. But because you’re smart.” I rubbed her hand between mine. “And wonderful, and…” I could feel the words just there on the tip of my tongue. The words I wanted to say. The way I felt. It was ridiculous and fucking taboo as hell.

  A single teardrop fell down her cheek and I was reminded of Sarah inside the apartment. She was probably still crying, bawling her eyes out because of me. I was with Sarah. Not Faye. I had to remember that. “And you deserve it,” I finished, placing the cell phone back in her hand and pulling mine away, even though it was one of the hardest things I had ever done.

  A smile tweaked at the corners of her lips, revealing her teeth. She was so beautiful it hurt, with her eyes glassy and her lips parted just so. An awkward half-laugh left her lips. “But I don’t know many people. No one’s gonna call me.” She bit down on her lip.

  “I’ll call you.”

  A bubble of laughter escaped my lips when she looked up at me, that nervous excitement back in her eyes. “Thank you, Rhett. I…” And for a moment I thought that maybe she struggled the way I did. With the way she felt. With her feelings for me. There were times when I was certain she did, but then they would go away, misplaced feelings for the man who’s father abused her for ten years. “Just thank you. For everything.”

  I wanted to pull her into my arms again, and feel her pressed against me, even if it would be awkward across the front seat, but I didn’t. Instead I sat there, staring at the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on and nodded. “You’re welcome.”

  EIGHT

  Faye.

  Four months later.

  “It’s just not realistic, Cayden, and I’ve told him that. He just doesn’t listen.”

  I tried not hear the things Jim was saying to Cayden. I had only approached his office door to bring in his new cup of coffee, which he liked to have precisely at ten o’clock. I knew Jim had come in. He was the prosecutor on Taylor’s case. He came by the office multiple times a week working with the guys and Rhett specifically. I just didn’t know he had gone into Cayden’s office.

  “Of course it’s realistic, Jim. We’v
e found a lot of evidence pointing to foul play in Mr. Hale’s personal as well as professional life.”

  “Sure, you’re right. The guy is a fucking skeeze ball. I’m not arguing with that. But we don’t have charges on any of those things. He’s up for aggravated sexual assault. Not any of the other shit Rhett is determined to pin on him. Doesn’t he get that? No one has come forward.”

  “That doesn’t mean that someone isn’t out there. People know things about him. We just have to find the right person.”

  “Really, Cayden? I thought you of all people would understand a fruitless endeavor when you saw one. This has got to stop. The trial is coming up. It’s less than a month away. There’s nothing else we can do. All we have is the rape from that night. And I know,” he paused, and I pressed closer to the crack in the door, “I know, this is about Faye. She’s a great girl and I know a jury will find him guilty—but she’s also a known prostitute and drug abuser. There’s no question. His DNA is on the swabs, on everything. It will all check out. The proof is there. But otherwise he has a clean record. He’s never gone to jail for anything. The man is a fucking saint on paper. Every year he makes a sizable donation to multiple local charities. He is loved by everyone who knows him. This small blip isn’t going to buy him a lot of time, especially here in Dallas. The place where the man grew up and made his path. It’s fucked up, I know it is, but it’s reality. He’s gonna be found guilty, but he could get two years at the least. And he would get credit for time served, since Rhett was able to call in those favors to keep him from making bail. That means he could be out in less than a year with good behavior and everything I’ve heard about him on the inside is crystal clean.”

  Sickness swept through me. It ripped through my body, ravaging me from head to toe. I knew the reality of things. I had known them since the day I woke up in the hospital, my face a bruised, swollen mess.