by T. L Smith
I shake my head then remember he was also there that night.
Why, I don’t really know.
My eyes glance down next to me, and I spot a needle, more than likely one of hers. Picking it up carefully so as not to touch the end of it, I point toward him. “Why don’t you go insert this in her, much the same as she did to you?”
His eyes go wide, and he stands from where he’s sitting on his seat. Stepping forward he snatches the syringe from my hand, throwing it into his garbage bin then he leans in real close to me, so all I can breathe is him.
“You remember, Mouse, don’t you? You know I had nothing to do with it. Do you remember?”
My eyes roll at his words. He may not have stuck me with the needle, he may not have stripped me bare, but he was the reason I was there. He was the one who I woke up to, lost and afraid. He should have protected me, but instead, he did exactly what she wanted. Like always.
“I remember.”
He gets on his hands and knees in front of me. Syler’s hand touches my face, and he appears hopeful. I don’t feel hopeful, I feel broken and in need of escape. This time I need to leave and not look back. I need to go forward with my life and get as far away as possible. Pushing back, I climb off the bed, standing while he’s down on his knees looking up at me. What a funny position we’re in. He’s always had the control. Maybe I gave it to him too often, too freely. But now, now it’s mine.
“I never want to see either of you again. Do you understand the words leaving my mouth, Syler? Never.”
He looks at me like I have lost my mind. His eyes are crazy, and his eyebrow is raised. Stepping around him, I go for the door, but his hand clutches my midsection, and he pulls me back to him. At first, I thought he wasn’t to blame, that he was just as much a victim as I was. Then I remember him with her when I woke up. How he looked at me as if I was no longer his, just a possession he could easily rid himself of. How wrong he was.
Then I hear her voice, she calls for him. His grip tightens, but I pull it away, going to the room next to his and opening the door. Toska is lying on the bed, she’s bruised, battered and even missing a finger by the looks of the bandage covering her hand which is covered in blood. She looks up through dark bloodshot green eyes and stares at me. Toska actually smirks, and I know she thinks she’s won. Right now, though, I don’t care.
She can win.
This never-ending story that we’re stuck in.
It’s over.
I never want to start back at the prologue. I want it to be at the end. But like the Wolf he is, he keeps on trapping the Mouse, bringing it back to her each damn time.
“I hope you fall in love, Toska, I really do.” Toska’s smirk drops from her lips. “Then I hope he breaks and cracks your heart into a million pieces, you filthy fucking bitch. You don’t deserve love. You deserve whatever hell you crawled out of. And the only reason I don’t have your own knife to your throat right now like you did to me that night, is because unlike you, I’m a woman, not a girl playing in a grown-up’s world.”
Stepping back, I step into him then turn, pushing him back and walking around him.
“Jaya,” my name is uttered from his lips. It makes my steps falter, but I’m already bruised and battered. His sister has seen to that when she hit me with his car. It may not have fucked me up, but it hurt, and it still hurts a fucking lot.
That’s all the hurt they get from me, it’s all I have left to give. Putting one foot in front of the other, I walk out of his house and hers. Hopefully, never having to see them again. Ever.
MY BAGS ARE PACKED, it’s the right decision to make. I need to leave, and it has to be now, or it will never happen. My father’s going to drive me to the airport and actually smiled at me when I told him my plans. He left to go and withdraw the money for my car that he sold.
Betty is sitting across from me on my porch, rocking in my father’s chair while drinking lemonade as she hums some song I can’t make out.
“Nope. Nope, not today. Today is not the day.” She stands, leaving the rocking chair to rock as she makes her way to her house. I don’t question her at all. Let’s face it, she does weird shit all the time, so I just stay where I am.
The sound of a car pulling up gains my attention. Taj steps out. He straightens his sunglasses and pockets his keys. He begins toward me. My chair stops moving, my hands glued to my lap not flinching, as he comes closer. He lowers his sunglasses as he looks at me.
“She gave you enough that night to kill you.”
He’s addressing the question now, is he?
I don’t say anything to his words. Instead, I just watch him.
“You should have been dead.”
My eyes leave him. I should have died.
“Why?” I ask. I remember him being there, but why. I don’t really know.
“Sometimes I like to taste crazy.”
I shake my head at him.
“Why did you taste me then?”
He smirks at me. “You, my sweet, are just the right amount of crazy.”
He makes me blush even though I don’t want to.
“You gave her the ammunition she needed to kill me.” My cheeks are still red, but I won’t back down, not to anyone anymore. He steps up closer. His foot crosses over the other as he leans back on the post, glancing down at me.
“Did you ask the correct question? Did you really remember it all?” he asks me as if I’m forgetting something.
I could be. But am I?
“What am I missing, Taj?”
“I didn’t know the drugs were for you. If I had...” he shakes his head, “... let’s say she’s lucky her brother saved her. Yet again. Try to think of the night before, the reason you went to their house in the first place.”
“How do you know any of this?”
Taj smirks, shaking his head. “Toska has a big mouth. She thinks sharing her conquest is good for her rep. It isn’t.” He leans down, kisses my cheek. “If we met at a different time, things would have been different, Jaya. So for now... I want you to know, despite his sister, I think he loves you in his own fucked up way.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me sitting there staring off after him wondering what the fuck he just meant.
Chapter 23
Love Me...Not
He always came at the wrong moment, always showing up at inopportune times. Sometimes I need him to listen to my words and stay away when I ask him to. Of course, he doesn’t, because to him he’s in charge of this situation we find ourselves in. I wouldn’t be calling it a relationship, so a situation is the best I can come up with.
After Taj left, I stayed where I was sitting on the porch, watching the sun go down. My father was going to be home late, and then he was taking me to the airport. But I expected to be gone by the time he crawled through my bedroom window to woo me with his ways as he usually does. This time is different, though, this time I can see him coming, and he sees me.
My hand goes up to my necklace, to the key that he stole from me, and my fingers twirl it as I watch him walk up the same way Taj did a few hours ago. Syler, though, he holds a completely different presence about him. One that’s forceful, that captures everything there is about me, and he tries to steal it.
“Why are you here, Syler? I told you I never wanted to see you again.” I manage to get the words out, but could he hear the shake in my voice? I hope not.
“Just because you say it, doesn’t make it true or meaningful.”
I shake my head at his words. Is he here to fuck with my head? His sister has done that quite successfully enough to last me a lifetime.
“This part was meant to be easy. Don’t make it any more difficult than it already is.” He shakes his head then steps closer to me. I stand from the seat I’m still in then step back, so I’m against the wall of the house, putting distance between us. He doesn’t care for distance. He steps even closer. His hand flings out and he wraps it around my throat, holding me tight to the spot.
/> “You can’t leave me.” His voice almost sounds broken, and it scares me. More than a broken person has ever scared me before. I’m left gasping for air as he holds me still against the wall, unmoving.
“Syler.” I manage to say his name, but he shakes his head at my words. “Let. Me. Go.”
“Kiss me, Jaya.”
My hands, which lift to touch his hands that are wrapped around my throat drop, as he asks me to kiss him. He uses my name. Not Mouse.
“No,” I squeak.
“Kiss me, Jaya,” he asks again, his grip tightening, almost to the point of no air.
“No.” The noise wheezes out of me.
He stares into my eyes. His usually almost see-through eyes now appear darker and more menacing. Then he drops his hands. My hand automatically goes up to cover my throat, and he stays where he is, almost on me, just like his eyes are.
He leans in, his hand now going to my waist.
“This is mine, Jaya.”
I shake my head.
“I slept with Taj.” I regret the words the moment I say them.
He knows, I think a part of him knew at least.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I just made him madder.
Now he picks me up by my hips and kicks open the front door. It swings, hitting the wall with a loud bang as he carries me in. Syler knows the way to my bedroom, and he takes me all the way there then slams that door shut as well. He places me on my feet then pushes me down with his hand, so I have to go to my knees. My head is telling me to stop what’s about to happen, but my body is saying yes through it all. It always does to him, always fucking does.
“You don’t want to kiss me?” He removes his clothes fast, then he stands in front of me completely naked as I stay where I am on my knees, now eye level with his incredibly hard cock. One of my favorite things about him.
I shake my head. He can’t steal any more of my kisses, they aren’t his to take anymore. He palms my breast then threads his hand through my hair, bunching it in his fists, so he has control over me once again. He pulls it, yanking my head back.
“Kiss me, now, Jaya, with those fucking beautiful lips. Kiss me.”
I know what he wants, he wants my lips to wrap around his cock.
Can I say no?
No, I’m hopeless when it comes to him.
So I do it.
My mouth goes forward as his hand stays in my hair, guiding me, pulling me back and forth and using me as his own personal sex slave.
The fucked-up part? I like it.
And he knows it.
My mouth begins to get sore, he’s punishing. He pulls me in and out, and it turns me on. I’m wet. That’s the problem with Syler, I’m always wet when he’s near me. He knows it just as much as I know it, and he uses that to his advantage. Even if I’m trying to escape him. Can I ever really?
“I’m going to fuck you like you brought it on yourself.”
My legs quiver as he pulls my head back, his cock releasing from my mouth. He pulls harder, so I have to look up to him with my neck bent.
“And you’re not going to fuck anyone ever again, because no one will fuck you like I can, Jaya. Fucking no one.”
My eyes start to water from the grip he has on my hair. He pulls it up making me stand with it, then he spins me around so my back is to him. He still has hold of my hair, and he slaps my ass with my clothes on.
“Remove them, now.”
My dress falls to the floor, my underwear right along with it.
Should I be doing this?
Probably not, but it’s only one last time, right? Then I’m gone.
“That’s a good little Mouse.” He slaps my ass again, harder, then rubs it with his palm, softening the sting with the warmth of his hand. “Now bend over the seat, ass in the air.” I do as he asks because I like how he fucks me—he fucks me like no other. He makes me come like no other man has ever been able to.
Maybe it’s all in my head. Maybe it’s the connection I share with him. Maybe it’s my stupid heart trying to still give itself to him, but either way, he won’t be keeping it.
“That’s a good little Mouse,” he says again.
Syler’s words are soothing, but his hand is punishing as he hits me again and again, this time slapping between my legs making me squeal in delight.
There’s pain—his palm isn’t soft.
My nails dig into the seat, my hips leaning on the back of the chair, my ass in the air with my head down. His finger runs the line of my ass, sliding down between my cheeks then slipping between my legs until he reaches my already wet pussy. A moan leaves my mouth as he slides his fingers into me. My legs spread just a bit further as I stand on my tip toes pushing my ass up higher. He pushes my backbone down with his hand, so my hips slam back into the top of the chair.
“Mouse.” He then leaves me, making me feel empty, his hand coming back down hard on my ass, slapping me once more. The yelp that wants to leave my mouth I suppress. His breath touches my ear, and I can feel his naked body against mine. The warmth and the position of his cock is teasing me.
“Tell me, Mouse... tell me you love me.”
I shake my head. That isn’t going to happen. Those words aren’t a plaything. Not to me. He won’t get that out of me today. I won’t let them escape my mouth. Even if I do give him my body, those words he simply cannot have.
“No.”
Syler hisses in my ear. He didn’t like me saying that word, I never use it with him.
“No?”
He bites at my ear then his body is off of me. I hear a noise coming from outside of my room, and I know my father has arrived home. My body locks up tight, and I hear Syler chuckle next to my ear.
“Best be as quiet as a Mouse, or Daddy may see me spanking your ass like the naughty little bitch you’ve been.” He then slams into me. My head drops to my arm, and my mouth bites down on my own skin to stop the scream that wants to rip free from my mouth.
“Jaya, you almost ready to go?” My father knocks on the door, and Syler laughs in my ear softly so only I can hear it.
“Almost,” I shout out.
His laugh stops, and he slams into me again. I bite back down on my arm, trying to suffocate my cries of pleasure. My toes are lifted, and my hips are being slammed hard into the chair with each movement he makes on me. His rhythm is fast and demanding. He bites my back when he’s almost there. I feel his teeth dig deep, just as claws would if he had them.
I hear my father’s footsteps retreating as I reach my orgasm. Syler isn’t far behind me, and picks my hanging body up off the chair and puts me into my bed. He climbs in behind me and pins himself to me, just as he always does. That’s when I hear the steady breathing from him a few minutes later telling me he’s passed out.
I lay there for longer than necessary, loving the way his hands wrap around me, and also to be sure he’s asleep and not just keeping me glued to him. Lifting his arm, I manage to move it off of me enough so that I can move off the bed. Tiptoeing around my bed, I grab my clothes and slide my dress on. My hips hurt, they’re bruised from that chair. Now, every time I see a black chair like that one I will only think of him. Was that his intention?
Picking up my bag and pulling the door open, I look back to a naked, and now very peaceful, Syler, lying in my bed, just like he has many times before, but now I’m about to walk out my door and not come back. Closing the door behind me and stepping away from it, I walk out to my father with a fake smile plastered on my face and my feet stuck to the floor. I’m leaving Syler where he is, and he holds my heart.
Chapter 24
Move On
My feet are firmly planted on the floor, not wanting to move. Every sound that vibrates through the speakers oscillates through me as well. It touches me without physically touching me. My eyes scan the room trying to find a familiar face, but none are here.
I’m in the position I’ve dreamt of a thousand times, but in this situation, I’m not afraid to step forward an
d take the next step. No, usually, I have a big old smile on my face and almost tripping to get to the front of it. Not today, though, my mind is foggy, my hands are shaky, as my ticket’s called over the speaker again, calling me to my gate. It’s time to get on the plane, yet, I somehow can’t move my feet to take that final step, to push myself to walk to that gate and step on that plane.
My mind runs through all the possibilities.
Was I suddenly afraid of flying now that I had the opportunity to do so?
Shaking my head, I know that’s a lie. I want to get on that plane, a part of me does anyway, but the other’s screaming at me to go back to my bed where I know he’ll still be sleeping until he realizes I’m not there and he leaves.
Is that it for us?
It very well couldn’t be and should be.
I feel like a yo-yo.
I am a yo-yo.
Being pulled back and forth, to him and away from him.
Thinking Taj could cure me of him was the biggest lie I ever told myself. Now I feel dirty. I did nothing wrong, I mean Syler was going to let me die by his sister’s hand. He didn’t love me the way I wanted his love. We weren’t a thing. He proved that every time he put her first , every time he chose her. And yet, here I am, wanting him to choose me, wanting him to want me the way I want him.
My heart bleeds for him.
And a part of me hates him for having that type of hold on me. I never wanted a man to gain control like that. My father had that with my mother, he loved her more than life itself, even more than me. She wanted me... he didn’t want kids. My father loves me, just not as strongly or fiercely as she did.
“Miss... are you Jaya Elmor?” A hand touches my arm, pulling me from my thoughts.
Turning around, I almost fall backward. She looks like Toska—the beautiful yet cracked Toska— except this lady’s eyes are brown, where Toska’s are like her brothers, green. They’re not as captivating as his.
“Miss,” she says again. I’m standing in front of the gate, the only person left, ticket in hand as I look up at her. She gazes down at my ticket, and I know she’s trying to see if it’s me. I snatch it and hold it close to my chest.
