by Amy Cross
Looking down under the covers, I see that my penis has become flaccid once again. I was so distracted by my thoughts, I quite forgot that Elizabeth was performing a service with her mouth.
"Perhaps tonight should draw to a close," I say, feeling as if I need to do something in order to scratch this feeling of helplessness. Getting out of bed, I walk to my dresser. "I must go out," I say, glancing at the clock and seeing that it is close to midnight. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth, but something has come up that requires my immediate attention".
"Did I do something wrong?" she asks.
"Of course not," I say. "We will resume our time together tomorrow, but for now I really must insist that you get dressed and go home".
I start to get dressed, and Elizabeth climbs out of bed and walks over to where he own clothes are scattered on the floor. She is a truly beautiful woman, and in any other circumstances I would have ravished her all night. However, it is clear that I cannot take my mind off my other problems, and I must come up with some kind of plan. I have spent many days just sitting and waiting to see what other people will do; now, finally, I must come up with some kind of idea of my own, so that I can be sure I will not go down easily. Filled with a new sense of purpose and resolve, I decide that I will not let Lady Red dispose of me so easily. I must gather up all the evidence I can find of the game, so that I can show the authorities the awful truth of everything that has been happening. First, though, I believe I must make a full and frank confession to the Marchant family. I must tell them everything, including the location of Sophia's body.
"When will I see you again?" Elizabeth asks, standing half-dressed by the mirror. I turn to her, and for a moment I feel compelled to drag her back to the bed and make love to her one final time. Fortunately, I am able to overcome that base urge.
"Tomorrow," I say, even though I doubt that I will be free, or even alive, by the time the sun comes up again. "We shall reconvene here," I tell her, walking over and looking at her marvelous, firm breasts. I run my hands over her nipples, and I cannot help but wonder whether these will be the last breasts I shall ever touch. "The things I shall do to you," I say quietly, looking into Elizabeth's eyes. "In that bed, we shall experience true pleasure".
"Do you promise?" she asks, unable to stop smiling.
"I promise," I say, before turning and walking to the door. "Martin will show you out," I say as I leave the room and walk along the cold, dark corridor that leads to the top of the stairs. Once I have put on my coat and hat, I step out into the night and hurry through the shadows. I do not really know where I am going, except that I feel I must do something in order to destroy my tormentors. Somewhere in this city, Lady Red is probably relaxing with a glass of wine and laughing as she contemplates my downfall, but I am determined to ensure that she is crushed. If I am to hang for my role in the game, and for the deaths of all those girls, then she will hang next to me.
When I reach the street corner, I hail a carriage and instruct the man to take me to Worthington Square. I still do not quite have a full plan, but I know that Sir Robert Marchant is a powerful man and my first step must be to speak to him and perhaps gain his support. It might not yet be too late to turn the situation in my favor, especially if I can get him on my side; if I can just make him see that it is Lady Red who is responsible for his daughter's death, I can perhaps arrange a deal with him. After all, it was the former Mr. White who put the blade into Sophia's neck and killed her. My heart is racing as the carriage bumps along the dark streets, but finally I am starting to think that there might be a way out of this situation. Of course, I shall have to leave London and start a new life elsewhere, perhaps under a new name, but at least I will be free of the game and, most importantly, I shall not be hanged.
After a moment, I realize that the carriage has stopped, and I lean out the window to see a police officer speaking to the driver. For a brief moment, I wonder if the game is over, but then I realize that up ahead, there is a terrible commotion, and the sky is tinged with the orange light of a bright fire.
"What is the matter?" I call out, desperate to get moving again.
"Traffic's closed, Sir," the police officer says. "There's a fire".
"I need to get to Worthington Square," I say. "It's a matter of great urgency".
"The fire's in Worthington Square," he replies. "The home of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Marchant".
I stare at him for a moment. "The industrialist?"
The police officer nods. "The road won't be open until the morning. It's an inferno down there".
"What happened?" I ask.
"Hard to say, Sir," he replies, turning to walk away.
"But what about the family?" I call after him. "Are they accounted for?"
He glances back at me. "All dead," he says, before continuing on his way. I stare out the window and watch as smoke rises in the distance. Is it possible? Have the Marchants, who seemed poised to bring my entire existence crashing down, suddenly been wiped from the face of the planet? Utterly speechless, I sit for several minutes, my mind racing as I try to understand why Lady Red would orchestrate such a macabre situation.
"Sir?" asks the carriage driver. "Where to now, Sir?"
I give him my home address and sit back as the carriage turns around. My heart is still racing, but I am overcome by a feeling of absolute relief. It is quite clear that Lady Red intended this incident to serve as a warning to me, and that she wants me to know that there is no limit to the measures she will take if she believes the game is under threat. She quite clearly gave Robert Marchant enough information so that he could put pressure on me, and now it seems that she has disposed of the Marchants once they are no longer useful to her. My secret is safe, even if I have been shown in no uncertain terms that Lady Red sees me as little more than a pawn.
Arriving back at my home, I pay the carriage driver and walk to my door. I am surprised, however, to find Mr. White once again loitering in the shadows.
"You seem to make a habit of this," I tell him, reaching for my key.
"I was merely sent to ensure your safe return," he says, "and to deliver a message from Lady Red".
I open the door and turn to him. "What is the message?"
"She wants you to know that she approves of Elizabeth Cavendish, and that she believes you should be careful to develop your relationship with the young lady. She says she has a good feeling about Ms. Cavendish, and that she thinks she has far more potential than Sophia Marchant. She looks forward to hearing your next update. She also wants you to be more careful in future".
I stare at him for a moment. While I had a very good relationship with the previous Mr. White, and believed him to be a fair man, this new incumbent is a different matter altogether. There is a venomous edge to him, and I cannot help but feel he is merely one of Lady Red's pawns. The balance of power has shifted, and I am left more isolated than ever before. If I am not careful, I fear I shall soon find myself permanently pushed out.
"Would you like to come in?" I ask. "Perhaps I can offer you a drink?"
"Another time," he replies with a smile. "I must go home and wash the smell of gasoline from my hands". With that, he turns and walks away. I stand and watch as he reaches the end of the street and disappears into the darkness. I fear that Lady Red has ensured that this latest version of Mr. White is something of a psychopath. While Robert Marchant was a thorn in my side, I am not certain that he deserved to be burned to death simply because he happened to care about his missing daughter. The game has claimed yet more victims, and I am supposed to merely shrug and continue with my usual activities. But as the fire from the Marchant household continues to cast an orange glow against the dark horizon, I find myself wondering whether I can stay in the game for much longer, or whether I must find a permanent way out.
Ten
Today
It's almost 3am by the time I get back to my mother's house. Trying to be quiet, I slip inside and go through to the kitchen for a glass of water, but I'm shocked to rea
lize that the television is still on in the front room. With a sinking feeling, I realize that my mother must have stayed up waiting for me. My first instinct is just to go upstairs and delay the argument until the morning, but finally I decide to just get it over with. My mother always treats me like I'm a child, and I doubt tonight will be any different.
"Hey," I say, walking through to the front room.
"Hello, dear," my mother replies, glancing up from the screen. "Did you have a good night?"
I stare at her for a moment. "I guess. Did you?"
"Oh, so-so," she says, before yawning. "I didn't mean to stay up so late, but I haven't been sleeping very well lately". She switches the television off and gets to her feet. "Turn the lights off when you come up," she adds, before heading to the door.
"Are you okay?" I ask, stunned by how reasonable she's being.
"Me?" She frowns. "Yes, dear. Just a little tired. Why do you ask?"
I pause for a moment. "You're not giving me the silent treatment, are you?"
"What are you talking about?"
I shrug. "I just thought you might be annoyed that I was out so late".
She smiles. "Elly, you're twenty-one years old. You're not a child any more. As long as you're safe, I'm not worried". With that, she leaves the room and I hear her slowly walking upstairs.
"Huh," I say, kind of stunned. I guess my mother still has the capacity to surprise me now and then, which isn't something I'd expected at all. I've spent so long worrying that she sees me as a child, maybe I was actually the one who saw our relationship in those terms. Sitting on the sofa, I sip some water before realizing I'm not tired at all. With nothing else to do, I grab the remote control and turn the television back on. As the light and noise fills the dark room, I pull my phone out of my pocket and bring up Mark's number. I figure I might as well call and thank him for the lift to the station, but he doesn't answer and I'm sent to voice-mail. Putting the phone down, I decide I should probably just forget all about him. That kiss meant nothing.
Book 3
Fusion
One
Today
I wake up naked and a little cold in Rob's bed, with his hand slowly reaching around to cup my right breast. Staring straight ahead for a moment, I realize I'm totally not in the mood, but I can feel him pressing his hard cock against my ass and I guess it wouldn't hurt to give him what he wants. Rolling over, I look straight into his face and realize that anything is better than going home. At least this way, I don't have to talk much; all I have to do is let Rob fuck me as much as he wants. The best part is, it's pretty easy to forget about everything when he's inside me. The rest of the time, my head is filled with a million unwanted thoughts, but when Rob is fucking me, I can kind of forget about everything else. It's a good trade-off.
"You want to?" he asks, letting the tip of his cock brush against my thigh.
"Sure," I say. "Just don't try anything before you've got a condom on, okay?"
He sighs as he reaches over and grabs a condom. As I wait for him to get it on, I stare at the wall and try to work out why, exactly, I'm here. I mean, I don't really like Rob that much, and the sex isn't great at all. Still, it's better than anything else I might be doing right now.
"Is it me," I say, "or is it cold in here?"
"I'm not cold," he replies as he slips the ugly condom over his ugly penis. "There. Happy?"
"Very," I reply.
He leans close and kisses me, while pushing me onto my back and climbing on top of me. I put my arms around him while he arranges himself between my legs, and finally I feel him slip it inside. I know what my job is now: I just have to keep my legs open and let him thrust into me. I kind of wish he was more willing to experiment with different positions, but I guess we've only been doing this for a couple of days so he's not bored of me yet. As I put my hands on his ass, he starts pounding away at me and I try to focus on getting wet. It's not easy, and I don't really feel very turned on. With Rob, it's as if he's basically using my vagina to masturbate. I haven't had an orgasm with him once; instead, I occasionally force him to watch while I touch myself. It's not ideal, but it'll do for now.
The sex is rough and coarse, and I feel like it's not particularly intimate. After a couple of minutes, Rob cums and I wrap my legs tightly around him. It's kind of a compliment that he can always finish so quickly, though sometimes I wish we could make love in a way that lasts a bit longer. I've tried getting him to go down on me, but he's not interested; blow-jobs, on the other hand, are very much on his agenda, and I've given him head half a dozen times in the past twenty-four hours. It's weird, but I'd never had sex before I met Rob, and now I feel like I do nothing but have sex. The sad truth is that I know there's nothing more to our relationship. It's not like we're ever going to have any kind of emotional connection, so I'm left with the same question as earlier: why am I here?
"Was that good for you?" Rob asks.
"Yeah," I reply.
"Sure?" he says. "You seemed a bit quiet".
"I wasn't quiet," I tell him. "I just... wasn't loud. I guess I don't make much noise".
He smiles. "I used to be with this girl who screamed so much during sex, she could make the windows shake".
"Sounds kind of scary," I say. Suddenly my phone starts ringing, and I reach over to grab it from the bedside table. "Sorry," I add. "I thought I turned it off".
"You turned it on to check the time," he replies, sliding his cock out of me and rolling onto the other side of the bed. "Who is it?" he asks.
"My mother," I say, looking at the flashing screen. "Again". I wait a moment, and the ringing stops. I know I should answer, but I also know that she wants to talk about my father's funeral, which is scheduled for tomorrow. At some point I'm going to have to get out of this bed and go home, but I want to put that dread moment off for as long as possible.
"Fuck," Rob says as he takes the sticky, messy condom off and throws it on the floor. "Next time, we're using something else," he continues. "Condoms are gross".
"Speak for yourself," I reply. One of the reasons I'm so keen to keep using condoms right now is that it adds a layer between us. Although he goes inside me, there's always that thin layer that prevents us from touching. I already regret the fact that I've slept with Rob, but at least I can tell myself that there's a chance - just a small chance - that one day I'll meet someone I actually care about. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and remember the moment when I kissed Mark Douglas. It felt so right, and yet he immediately pushed me away and acted like he wasn't interested. Is it possible that I completely misinterpreted the feeling between us? Is it possible that I was wrong when I felt that we had a connection?
"You okay?" Rob asks.
Opening my eyes, I turn to look at him. "No," I reply. "I mean, yes. I'm fine. Sorry, I guess I was just daydreaming about stuff".
He smiles. "That's one of the things I love about you, Paula. You're always daydreaming". He leans over and kisses me on the cheek; it's a moment of tenderness that takes me by surprise. "It's like you've always got your head in the clouds and you're thinking about other sit. Sometimes I really wanna just climb in through your ear and find out what it's like to be in your head".
"Thanks," I say. "I think". I pause for a moment. When he said that it's one of the things he 'loves' about me, was that a figure of speech, or did he just let slip something more serious? I sit in silence, my mind racing as I try to work out whether Rob just accidentally told me he loves me. The idea is ridiculous: we've been having sex for less than two days, and as far as I'm concerned it's just a bit of fun. If I thought for a moment that he was taking things more seriously, I'm pretty sure I'd run a mile. Rob's just a fling, and a distraction. Whatever else we do, love is definitely not on the menu.
"There you go again," he says, staring at me.
"What?"
"That look". He smiles. "I swear to God, Paula, sometimes you look like you're thinking about stuff that's a million miles way. It's like you've t
otally got your head in the clouds".
"I guess I'm just a bit distracted," I say. "Things have been moving pretty fast".
Getting out of bed, Rob wanders over to the wardrobe and starts sorting out a bunch of clothes. I sit in the bed, keeping the duvet up to cover my breasts, and I watch him. He's not exactly what you'd call good-looking, but he's not ugly either; he's just kind of average, with a skinny body and a kind of blank, uninteresting face. I can't imagine anyone ever really having any passionate feelings for him, but some day I guess some girl will settle for him and she'll probably be reasonably happy. As he turns and starts grabbing some stuff from the desk over by the window, I can't help but stare at his limp little cock and shudder as I realize that I let him put that thing inside me.
"Did I tell you I'm going to Exeter tonight?" he says casually, as if it's totally unimportant.
"No," I reply, shocked at the idea that I might have to go back to my mother's house. "Why?"
"My band got a gig," he replies, sorting through a bunch of t-shirts. "It was totally last-minute, 'cause some other band pulled out or something. We're playing at this little underground club. It's a pretty big thing. We leave tonight and we'll probably be back in a couple of days, 'cause Johnny's uncle owns a farm so we're gonna stay there for a few days after. It's pretty cool up there. We'll just sit around in the grass and meet a bunch of cows and stuff, maybe smoke if we can pick up anything decent".
I take a deep breath, realizing that Rob has this complete other life that's separate from the stuff we've been doing for the past twenty-four hours. I guess I've allowed myself to feel as if I'm in some kind of cocoon, separate from the rest of the world. For as long as we were in his bedroom, spending all our time fucking and sleeping, I didn't have to think about what's happening everywhere else. It was almost as if time wasn't going past. Now that Rob's going to Exeter, I'm going to have to go back to the 'real' world and deal with all the crap that's going on in my life, by which I mean my mother.
