Obsessed

by R. J. Lewis

  “I didn’t know he did that too,” she muttered, not meeting my eye.

  What could be said without cursing? I exhaled slowly and took her by the hand. Her cold fingers entwined tightly around mine. I led her to her bed and left her standing there as I rummaged through her dresser drawers. I pulled out a shirt of mine (not surprised because she always stole my clothes). It was a big black band shirt, and I tossed it her way, knowing she’d want to be in something baggy. Then I grabbed some shorts and threw them on her bed too.

  She turned her back to me. “Can you unzip me?” she asked, her voice small. “I can’t reach it.”

  I moved to her slowly, my eyes already drinking in her figure, and the wet drops falling from the ends of her hair, leaving wet lines down her legs. I fucking hated this. Hated checking her out when she was so distressed. Seedy fuck, Aston.

  I took her long blonde hair in my hands and shuffled it gently over one shoulder. She grabbed it, her fingers brushing against mine. I lingered at the touch and hesitated, not realizing how much I was holding my breath until my chest ached.

  Then my fingers grabbed the zipper at the top of her dress and slowly pulled it down. It ended just below her bra strap. There were more droplets down her back, and I wondered what she’d taste like if I swiped at it with my tongue.

  On a short breath, I stepped back and turned away, hearing her shuffle out of her dress and the material hitting the floor. I breathed in and out, trying to ignore the strange feelings battling inside of me. Anger and…desire. I shut my eyes and saw fat droplets on skin. Saw them falling down her legs, between her breasts, down her spine…

  Stripped from control, I looked over my shoulder. She had just unclasped her bra and thrown it down. Her slender arms reached out to the shirt. I saw the curve of her small breast as she hastily put it over her head. My eyes drank in her soft back and the damp pink underwear that made her ass look…fucking incredible. The second she began pulling those down, I looked away and shook my head.

  Off-limits. She’s off-limits.

  “I’m done,” she whispered to me.

  I turned to her, clenching my jaw as I nodded. “Good. Get in bed.”

  She wavered, staring at me. “Can…Can you stay for a little while longer? I don’t want to be alone right now.”

  It was a bad idea. I needed a cage surrounded by four feet concrete all around, but…I nodded anyway. I couldn’t say no. Not to Elise.

  She slipped into her bed and under the light covers. I sat down on the edge of her bed and kept my eyes on the window. The images of her ass and smooth back plagued me. I gripped the back of my neck and squeezed at the taut muscles. I couldn’t stop the images, and it was starting to fuck with me physically.

  “Please don’t tell Dad,” she told me sometime later. “Please, Aston. It’ll just make everything worse.”

  “I didn’t plan on it,” I told her, unable to keep the edge hidden from my voice.

  “You’re not…you’re not going to do anything, are you?”

  I slowly turned my face to her. She was watching me intently, biting her lips like she did when she was worried. If she only knew what that did to me. I resisted with everything inside of me not to lean over the bed right that second and take that lip into my mouth and suck…Fuck, I’d suck that lip so hard.

  Breathe in, breathe out.

  “Get some sleep,” I told her, intentionally avoiding her question.

  She closed her eyes and I waited for her to sleep. It didn’t come easy. She still shook from disgust at the way that fucking dickhead touched her. God, I was going to tear him a new one.

  “Can you lay down next to me?” she asked me in a whisper, keeping her eyes closed.

  I stared at her for some time, breathing in and out as I debated her question. Then I dropped down on the bed and rested my head on the same pillow as hers. Her hand sought me out a second later. They wrapped around my palm, fingers linked, her cool skin against my warmth. I felt the tremors in her as she clutched it tightly. I clutched back because it was Elise and I couldn’t fight this if I tried.

  “Thank you for being understanding,” she told me, sniffing again. “I was so scared you’d be disappointed in me.”

  I looked at her and it burned me to see more tears falling down her cheeks. I moved closer and with my other hand I swiped my thumb across her wet skin. That made her eyes open, and she stared at me, her eyes cloudy and tired.

  “You’re not a disappointment,” I told her. “You’re a good person, El.”

  “You’re the best person,” she replied. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I don’t know how clueless I’d have been without you. You make things so much better, Aston. The world turns when you’re around.”

  I smiled softly. “I stole your thunder six years ago.”

  She smiled back. “You didn’t. You brought lightning.”

  “You’re thunder and I’m lightning?”

  That smiled broadened and my chest stretched at the sight of it. “We make the perfect storm, don’t you think?”

  I nodded once. I was still touching her face. My hand cupped her cheek and my thumb rubbed beneath her eye at the tears that had fallen. My breathing went shallow as I wondered what I’d have done in this situation if we weren’t Aston and Elise.

  I’d have kissed her. Ravaged her. I’d have touched her if she allowed it and undressed her with my teeth.

  I removed my hand on a defeated sigh and looked away from her. I was twisted inside, afraid of the way my skin ignited with the need to touch her. It took an awful long time for the moment to pass, for her breaths to even out. When sleep came and she was out, it was a victory for me. I survived and kept our family intact.

  I returned to my room, and then I sat at my desk, turned the lamp on and opened a textbook. Elise’s body had turned me on, and I didn’t want to give in. I needed a distraction – I needed numbers.

  “What is the wave speed for the transverse traveling wave on this string?” I mumbled aloud, reading the question over and over again before I started a diagram.

  Pink, wet underwear.

  Her teeth biting into her lip.

  That fucking back.

  Drops between her breasts.

  Somewhere in the middle of it all, my pencil snapped in two and I threw it across the room, panting out loud. I ran my hand through my hair and then pressed my fingers into my eyes, rubbing at them.

  “He touched her,” I whispered, my body trembling. “He fucking touched her.”

  She said no, and he touched her.

  He touched what was mine.

  That dirty little fuck with his dirty fucking hands.

  I growled deep in my throat as another wave of rage ran through me.

  I was going to fuck him up.

  6

  Aston

  Revenge required patience.

  Impulsive actions led to discovery and consequences. If I’d followed through with my rage, Deck would have eaten the pavement Monday morning when I saw him step out of his Volvo. I’d have made him swallow his teeth as I smashed his face into the sidewalk.

  But I didn’t.

  Revenge required careful planning.

  I learned how easy it was to study a person, and what surprised me the most was how much you could learn from them when you watched them live their lives. All their habits, routines, and behaviour among all their friends were brought to light, and it was very informative.

  Deck was a fucking pansy. A wanna-be jock who’d tried for two years to land a spot on the basketball team and didn’t make the cut time and time again. He was a sore loser that hid behind his expensive car and big house, all owned by fake-titty soccer mommy and bling-bling entrepreneur daddy. Deck was probably born with a silver spoon halfway up his ass.

  I hated spoiled little shits like him, because they took what they wanted with this fucked up self-entitlement. I deserve this car I didn’t buy. I deserve that bitch’s mouth around my millionaire dick. I�
�m a fucking king in my daddy’s mansion, so give it to me because I’m owed it. I deserve it, so gimme, gimme, fucking gimme.

  I watched Deck-chair during school. Watched the way his eyes followed asses and breasts and blonde girls, all with a sick smirk on his pasty white face. That attitude of self-entitlement was so thick, I was surprised nobody around him choked on it. But those raping little eyes always ended back on Elise, the hunger evident behind his eyes, along with a bitterness that had him clenching his man-girl hands into fists. He was obsessed with her in his own sick way.

  Rejection to a spoiled little bitch like him was a tough pill to swallow. It was foreign, and I was sure that rejection made him question everything around him. He needed validation, to feel superior because superiority gave him purpose. It channelled that god-complex in him. I deserve that little bitch. Who does she think she is to reject me? I’m the best thing to ever happen to her.

  Revenge required perfect opportunity.

  I’d been searching for an opportunity to get him alone for two whole weeks after the incident. And then it happened. On a warm night, I followed Deck-the-halls out of a movie theatre. He said goodbye to his friends before making his way through the parking lot and to his car. It was parked near the fence that backed on to an empty lot of an industrial building. No witnesses. No cameras. Out of plain sight. It was fucking glorious.

  His car was under the shade of a pine tree, the perfect place for me to hide. I knew the heavens, if they existed, had shined their light on me and said, “Aston, this is your fucking opportunity for revenge. God is looking the other way. You fuck this fucking fuck up and no consequences will follow.”

  I slid the balaclava over my head as he neared, tightly gripped the steel bat in my hand and came at him from behind. He was unlocking the driver’s door when I grabbed the collar of his shirt and threw him down to the ground. He yelped in surprise and looked up at me. It was dark. I was the big bad wolf, six feet tall and grizzly with my steel bat banging against the ground. Cling-cling.

  His eyes widened in fear, and he put his hand out as if to stop me. “Hey, don’t hurt me, man! I’ll give you my wallet,” he begged. “Or my car. Anything!”

  Fucking pussy.

  “What-what do you want?”

  “I want to watch you bleed,” I growled, swinging the bat ‘til it hit flesh and bone.

  I wanted the blood. I wanted the pain. I wanted him to cry. This was my revenge; I waited for it, I was patient for it, I took the opportunity presented and gave it my all. I didn’t care about right or wrong. Standing there, masked and anonymous, it wasn’t Aston beating Deck-chair. It was Deck-of-cards getting what he deserved for taking advantage of girls who said no.

  Call it wrong. Call me bad. I didn’t give a fuck. Strip the law away, strip morals and etiquette, and you had animals. Animals fighting for what was theirs; it was a justice system that was encoded in our DNA, and I wasn’t going to fight against what was natural to me.

  My genius sat mute while my brain chanted the numbers of cracks I felt beneath my bat.

  One concussion, one broken leg, and ten stitches on the head later, I called it even.

  *

  Deck didn’t know it was me, and I found it fucking comical he said he’d tried stopping a mugging before he was violently beaten by a group of enormous men. Wrestlers he’d called them at some point.

  The pussy had driven himself to the hospital (admirable for a man with one working leg) and filed a false police report because he was that obsessed with keeping his image. Dad responded to that call and he came home with his partner Adrian for dinner the next night, talking about how crazy some people were, shaking his head at the “poor guy” who had tried to do the right thing.

  I wondered what he’d think of the “poor guy” if he knew he tried to rape his own daughter.

  “I don’t know what this town is becoming,” Dad grumbled, “but I’m not liking it.”

  I didn’t say a word in response, but Elise stared at me from the across the table. Her blue eyes misted, and I wanted to hold her to me and wipe away the tears threatening to spill. I did it for you, I wanted to say. I did it because you said no and he didn’t listen. And that’s what bitch boys get when they don’t listen.

  “He goes to your school,” he continued, looking directly at Elise. “Your grade.”

  She looked away from me and shrugged. “He’s in one of my classes.”

  “You should make sure he gets some help making his way around.”

  “He has a lot of friends,” she replied in a hard voice. “I’m sure he’ll be fine, Dad. He’s a rich boy and he acts like it.”

  “Rich doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Mom cut in, frowning at Elise.

  Adrian, who was the same age as Dad but meatier, nodded in agreement. “Your mom is right, El. If anything, money makes you more of a target.”

  “I think she means Deck’s always seemed entitled,” I quickly explained.

  Dad looked at me disapprovingly. “I don’t care how entitled a person is, they don’t deserve to be beaten to a pulp, Aston. He tried to do the right thing.”

  “I disagree,” I replied calmly. “I think if a person has a shit attitude and selfishly try and take what they don’t deserve, they need to be taught a lesson. He’s a bad person, and I wouldn’t take what he says seriously. Personally, I don’t feel one bit upset that he’s in the hospital.”

  Dad just shook his head. “You don’t mean that, Aston.”

  “I do.” With everything inside of me, I meant it.

  He sighed and swallowed down his urge to argue. Dad always tried to make his point across, but with me…he always let me have the final say. I was sure I knew what went on inside his head every time he felt frustrated by me. He thought of that dark room, of me on my knees, pleading for him not to hurt me. I saw that flash of pain in his eyes from time to time. I’d scarred him, while he had healed me and given me a chance at life.

  We let the matter drop and ate in silence. After dinner, Elise pulled me into the hallway and looked at me gravely. “Thank you,” she whispered, taking my hand softly.

  “For what?” I whispered back.

  She smiled. “Deck.”

  My face remained neutral. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Her other hand shot up, and she stroked my cheek. There was nothing sibling-like about her touch, and I knew what she was seeking, but there was no way in hell I could give in to that want and risk losing everything.

  Still. I let her touch me. I didn’t let her know it affected me, but…I let her touch me.

  “I know why you did it,” she continued, “and I will never speak a word of it to anyone.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I repeated slowly.

  Her eyes travelled to my lips, and her face warmed. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, and I’ll never forget what you did for me.”

  Leaning into her, I firmly said, “If anyone ever touches you like that again without your permission, I’ll kill them next time.”

  She smiled again. “You don’t need to worry.”

  “You think I’m joking, don’t you?”

  Her lips wavered. “I hope you are.”

  I laughed dryly. “I wish I was, but no. I’ll beat him until he’s not moving anymore, and that’s the fucking truth.”

  Just as I said that, Dad’s footsteps sounded out from behind us. She dropped her hand from mine and stepped back, regaining that safe distance between us as Dad squeezed his way past us, Adrian following closely behind. “Get out of the goddamn halls,” he barked, tugging on her ponytail. “There’s an entire house you can take up the next time you decide to block it.”

  She nodded at him, but her eyes remained on mine. “There won’t be a next time, Dad.”

  I knew who she was really talking to.

  7

  Aston

  Logic and numbers told me that if shit went down again, and there was m
ore than one man involved, I’d need to better my chances fighting them. So I went to the fitness gym at school.

  My real father was a piece of shit who deserved to be dead, but he was a massive guy¸ and I ended up with the same body type. I was already big by seventeen, had a body that was far beyond my years, but lifting weights gave me an edge that separated me from most of the other guys.

  I put my body through hell, and every time I wanted to give up halfway through, all I had to think about was Elise being taken advantage of. Because a girl that looked as irresistible as her was bound to attract unwanted attention, especially from the small-town teenage hicks in Montley.

  I spent that year bulking. I wanted my final year at high school to be by her side, warding off anyone that thought they could approach her. By eighteen, I was huge. I had muscles on top of muscles, and nobody wanted to be in my way. The guys at the gym always whistled in awe when I looked at myself in the floor to ceiling mirrors. They sought my advice, and I spent more time helping them lift than actually lifting myself.

  I liked the people at the gym. They didn’t ask personal questions. They were all about one thing when they were surrounded by weights and cardio machines: fitness. They were like me in ways. They sought structure and discipline, and there was something about that environment that calmed me. I didn’t have my back up like I did in other social situations. Here, I relaxed and made friendly acquaintances. It was my haven outside of Elise.

  One day, Javier, one of the friends I’d made there, approached me. “You’re a fucking machine, Aston.”

  I smirked. “That’s the plan.”

  “Well, chicks dig machines. I’ve been asked to introduce you to someone.”

  “Who?” I asked, barely hiding my disinterest.

  “Tanya over there by the cardio machines.”

  I glanced over my shoulder and at a petite brunette, pressing the buttons on a treadmill, pretending to be distracted. But she looked up at me every few moments, her face turning pink when our eyes met.