Sated

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Sated Page 11

by Charity Parkerson


  Lyric slammed the back of his head against the wall with a loud thump, dragging their attention his way. His nostrils flared and Trey couldn’t look away. It was rare for Lyric to snap. Tugging the band from his hair, Lyric tossed it aside before running both hands through it, barely containing his aggravation. When his hair was a mess, framing his face, Lyric swiped his hand over his eyes. He was practically bouncing in place. Glancing in Trey’s direction, Lyric opened his mouth, obviously intent on having his say. He snapped his teeth together, biting it back. Lyric brushed his fingertip back and forth over his top lip, as if attempting to wipe away his words or thinking them through. Trey was enthralled. Lyric was the one with the words. Seeing him at a loss was mesmerizing. When the question finally fell from Lyric’s lips, it burst out, as if he couldn’t contain it a second longer.

  “Was she scared?”

  For Trey, it was the same as getting punched in the face. Dropping his gaze to the floor, Trey stared at the toes of his shoes, incapable of holding Lyric’s stare as he answered.

  “Yeah, man, she was scared.”

  The complete absence of all sound in the wake of his response was almost tangible. It was choking him.

  * * * * *

  Trey’s hair stood on end. His frustration filled the air, choking her. The anger and hurt weighed heavily on Arbor’s chest. Why did she have to be like this?

  “They’re gone, Arbor. Lyric and Killian aren’t ever coming back.” She wanted to hurt him for saying it out loud. Did he think she didn’t know? “Fuck. Please don’t look at me like that,” Trey begged.

  Turning her back to him, Arbor headed for the window, seeking solace. She stopped short before reaching it. That was their spot. She couldn’t look at Trey. Everything she felt was in her eyes; she knew it. Hurting Trey was killing the tiny slice of her that had managed to cling to life. Even the peaceful view of the river didn’t bring her comfort any longer. There was nothing inside her except a boiling rage. She glanced down, staring at her clenched fists. It wasn’t Trey. Life was the one responsible for her anger and she was truly fucking furious.

  Arbor forced her fingers to relax. Today was the last day. She wouldn’t, couldn’t do this any longer. Blood welled in her hands, making Arbor realize she’d been digging her fingernails into her palms. Spinning back in Trey’s direction, Arbor kept her head down, incapable of looking into his eyes as she moved back to his side. Her feet didn’t stop until they were toe to toe with his. His body felt stiff as she wrapped her arms around his waist. With her gaze locked on Trey’s chest, Arbor worked at loosening her jaw—determined. He made no attempt to return her hold. It hurt. She deserved his punishment. Only when she’d managed to force her face to relax did she meet his stare. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

  “I love you.”

  At her declaration, Trey’s eyes fell closed. “Arbor, I…”

  She cut him off. “That’s why I want you to leave.” His body jerked as if she’d punched him, but he didn’t pull away. That was good, since she wasn’t finished. “If there’s an ounce of love for me in your heart, you will walk away and forget I exist.”

  In an instant, her feet left the floor. Her back hit the wall a split second before her skull slammed against the hard surface. A cry of pain left her lips before Trey’s mouth covered hers, cutting off the sound. Between the bruising kiss and his large body pressing her into the wall, Arbor couldn’t breathe. She didn’t fight it. The pounding of her pulse in her ears drowned out the screaming in her mind.

  “You’ll always belong to me.”

  Arbor’s eyes flew open as the harsh whisper cut through the air. Even with her eyes open, she couldn’t see and her lungs still weren’t working. Panic sent her scrambling from the bed. The second her feet hit the floor, light and sound rushed back to her, filling the void with such vehemence, Arbor’s stomach churned. The sudden assault on her system was too much. Even as her mind accepted the shift, the walls of her apartment refused to obey. They shook with such violence, several pictures came crashing to the floor. Her ragged breaths filled the air, seeming overly loud in the absence of all other sounds. She covered her ears against them and everything stilled.

  A cold breeze skittered over her skin, leaving her chilled. She watched in horror as the green sprigs covering her white wallpaper grew in size, stretching outward as the wall bulged. They appeared rubberized rather than solid. The shape of a large man formed for a moment before the wall snapped back into place and he disappeared. Her feet moved in its direction. She was powerless to stop it from happening. There was something just out sight—waiting.

  A noise, reminding Arbor of hundreds of people whispering simultaneously, came from inside the wall. There were too many of them at the same time. She couldn’t understand what they were saying. When she was close enough to inspect the surface, it still looked solid enough. She poked it. Nothing. It didn’t give at all. She tapped her knuckles against it. The final picture shot from the wall, shattering with such force, slivers of glass bounced off the floor and bit into her skin. One piece lodged in her wrist.

  Arbor didn’t have time to react. The solid surface bulged once more, and the whisper returned. The pitch increased until coming together as one clear voice and sounding demonic. “You belong to me. You will always be mine.”

  The room spun. Darkness hovered at the edges of her vision. The world tilted. Thankfully, the floor was there to catch her as everything went black.

  Chapter Nine

  “I met a man named Dheath.

  He said everything has a price.

  I met a woman named Destiny.

  She promised me Arbor.

  I met a dude named Vice.

  He swore I’d lose, so I paid Dheath to bind our life.”— Believed to be the final song written by music legend, Lyric Wynters. The handwritten lyrics were discovered inside a notebook among his belongings after his long-time girlfriend, Arbor Sinclair, was found brutally murdered inside their home. The pages are now on display at the Grunge Rock Museum in downtown London.

  This time, when Trey arrived, Arbor didn’t hesitate to allow him inside. At this point, she didn’t have anything to fear. Her worst nightmares were already living with her. She was never alone. A line from one of her favorite novels popped into her mind as Trey closed the door behind him. I’m scared. It’s very crowded inside my head. A hysterical burble of laughter rose inside her.

  Trey’s brows drew together. “Are you okay?” His question didn’t sound anywhere near as concerned as he should be. After all, who knew what was going on when time disappeared from her. She could be going on a murderous rampage for all she knew. Holy fuck! What if she was going on a murderous rampage? Now that the thought was there, Arbor couldn’t shake it.

  “Arbor?” Trey said, sounding a bit worried now, and reminding her that she hadn’t responded. She began pacing. Her fingers ached from wringing her hands, and all the cleaning. Seriously. There wasn’t a single spot left untouched in her apartment. It would most likely smell like Pine-sol for the rest of her life…which might not be long. She really needed to keep that saying in check. Another bubble of laughter rose in her throat. Swallowing, Arbor did her best to keep it inside.

  Trey interceded on her third pass, inserting himself into her path and bringing her up short. He cupped her face, leaving her no other choice except to meet his stare. His eyes; they were wrecked. Goddamn it. It was her fault. Why couldn’t she get her shit together? It just fucking figured that she would meet this breathtaking man, only to lose her goddamn mind. Life loved kicking her. Really. She should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re scaring me, baby.”

  That made two of them, but the pain in his voice jarred her tongue loose. “Yeah, so, I think I’m losing my mind and you don’t want a crazy lady dragging you down.” Proving he was the master of self-control, Trey’s expression went completely blank, blocking his emotions from her. At the opposite end of the spectrum, Arbor’s panic continued rising. With t
he initial confession out of the way, the flood gates opened. Her hands shook. She balled them into fists to hide her reaction and to keep from reaching for him. She really wanted to do that. He deserved better than her.

  “Would you like to talk about it?”

  No. She wouldn’t, but it was too late now. Another hysterical cackle burst from her lips before she could clench her teeth against it. Arbor didn’t respond until she was certain she had it under control.

  “Where to start,” she mused aloud. “I know. How about the club where we met? Not there. Nope. It’s gone.” For some reason, one Arbor couldn’t explain, she spread her arms wide as if it would expound on exactly how gone the place had been when she’d gone back. She took a step away from Trey, hoping to gain her footing. “Actually, I’m not sure it was there to begin with, except you’re standing here, right?” She didn’t wait for his answer. After all, if she was hallucinating, her mind would choose his answer. At least, Arbor assumed that was how it worked. Damn. Going crazy was exhausting. That thought reminded her of one of the many reasons she was so damn tired.

  “Oh, and how about my walls shaking? Yep. They do that. Not all of them, mind you; just that one,” she said, motioning toward the offending structure. “Otherwise, it might be an earthquake, and heaven forbid it be something that makes some fucking sense.”

  Trey eyed the wall before turning in a slow circle, checking out the rest of the room. Without a word, he headed for the front door. Honestly, Arbor was shocked he’d lasted this long. She would’ve run for the hills long before now. To her surprise, he stepped out into the hallway, checking both directions, and came back inside. He pointed at the wooden surface that had betrayed her.

  “You have a neighbor on that side.”

  He sounded so reasonable. Arbor almost hated that she was going to disabuse his logic. She did her best to look sane. Nodding, she pretended to think it over. “I did think of that, except I forgot to add that it also talks to me and throws shit at me. I mean, look at this.” Arbor held her hand out to show him the cut from the broken picture frame. It was gone. Trey reached for her outstretched hand. She snatched it back, inspecting it closer.

  “Fuck my life. Where did it go?” She searched her mind. Had it happened today? It wasn’t the first time she’d considered the fact she couldn’t remember the exact day. Her gaze shot to Trey’s. His expression still hadn’t changed. “What day is it?”

  “Arbor,” he began, sounding calm. She cut him off with a slashing motion. The last thing she wanted was his reassurance. What Arbor needed was someone to freak the fuck out right alongside her. She was tired of being alone.

  “No. What day is it?”

  Snagging her arm, Trey hauled her against him. With one arm locked around her waist, preventing her escape, he cupped her chin and forced her to hold his stare.

  “Tell me about the wall,” he demanded. “What does it say?” At the bite in his tone, Arbor drew a calming breath. This was good. He wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended.

  “It’s a whisper more than anything. Sometimes, I can’t make out the actual words.”

  The muscle in Trey’s jaw ticked. Her heart rate slowed. Even though she could feel his anger growing, it soothed her. The way his fingers brushed the small of her back let her know his rage wasn’t directed toward her.

  “Does it say your name?”

  “What does it matter?”

  “Names have power. Does it say your name?” Arbor shook her head. He unclenched his teeth, working his jaw loose. “Damn right it doesn’t,” he said more to himself. Before she could ask what he meant, Trey dipped his head and touched his lips to the corner of her mouth. Breathing his air, her eyes fell closed. The panic slipped away, making Arbor realize she was clutching his shirt with both hands, desperate to hang onto reality. Even as she thought to apologize for ruining his work clothes, a different confession fell from her lips.

  “I’m scared, Trey.” Her voice broke at his name. His grip tightened on her waist. Turning his face away, he eyed the wall. The tick was back. When Trey met her gaze again, his features had hardened to the point where he was almost unrecognizable.

  “You said, ‘sometimes I can’t make out the words.’ What about the other times?”

  Arbor shrugged. “It’s always the same. ‘You’re mine’ or ‘You belong to me.’ Something along those lines.”

  “The hell you say,” Trey growled, releasing her so fast she almost fell. His long stride carried him across the room before she could regain her balance. Trey threw open the door. She was on his heels all the way down the hall.

  “What are you doing?” Damned if Arbor knew why she was whispering. Not that it mattered. Arbor got the feeling, even if she’d screamed the words at the top of her lungs, Trey would’ve ignored them. Without a single warning, he lifted his foot and kicked open her neighbor’s front door. Her feet froze to the floor. The shock of seeing the innocent slab of wood half off its hinges was too much. Mouth hanging open and incapable of saying a single word of protest, Arbor watched in horror as Trey stormed inside the apartment. When no shouts came, she managed a small step in the direction he’d disappeared. Nothing bad happened, so she took another and then one more until the living room came into view. A weight slammed into her, knocking her back against the wall before she could clear the doorway.

  “Don’t break the seal, Arbor.”

  It took her a moment to realize Trey had tackled her to prevent her from entering the apartment. She couldn’t focus on anything other than the scene behind him. He was a big guy, but there was no way he could block it out.

  “Is that blood?”

  Trey didn’t answer. Tearing her eyes away from the horrific sight, Arbor focused on his face. His mouth was pressed into a flat line, pinching at the corners.

  “She’s not in there. That can’t be good.” At the dryly spoken words, Trey whipped around, pulling his gun from its holster as he went. In spite of the situation, Arbor was still impressed. The woman standing by the ruined door apparently didn’t feel the same. She snorted. Like a woman who wasn’t staring down the barrel of a service weapon, she leaned closer to the door. “What is that god-awful noise?”

  Until the red-haired woman pointed it out, Arbor hadn’t noticed the loudly clanging chimes. Trey slipped his gun back in its holster. “It’s a cleansing bell.”

  The woman nodded. “Ah. I smell the sage and rose oil now. Isn’t all that kind of pointless?”

  “Who are you?”

  She waved a hand toward a door further down the hall at Trey’s question. “I’m on the other side.”

  “Do you know who lives here?” Arbor asked, slipping beneath Trey’s arm and hugging his waist. Taking the hint, he tucked her closer to his side. That was all it took to make her feel safe. The woman snorted again.

  “Nobody knows anyone, do they?”

  Arbor barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Is she in there?” A second female voice, coming from behind them, had Arbor’s heart in her throat. Damn. The people in this place were sneaky as hell. Arbor was patting her chest to slow her heart while looking the new arrival over. The woman couldn’t have been more than five-foot-two, but she still tried peeking around them to see inside the apartment. Arbor was trying to figure out where the woman came from, since there wasn’t another apartment in that direction.

  “I’m not sure,” Arbor answered when no one else did. Turning back to the door, intent on checking for herself, Arbor found even more people had filled the hall. No one seemed inclined to go inside the apartment.

  Going up on her toes, Arbor tried to see further inside without getting closer. What looked like satanic symbols covered every inch of the walls she could see. The parts of each drawing that were still wet gleamed red, while the dried bits had turned a rusty brown. The overwhelming tang of copper hung in the air, leaving no doubt as to what had been used to draw the symbols. Even though Arbor didn’t think anyone could survive the loss
of that much blood, she hated the thought of some poor woman dying just out of sight while they all stood around gawking. In the face of such a horrible fate, an eerie calm filled her.

  “The place is empty,” Trey said, as if he read her thoughts. She wasn’t comforted.

  “Did you check the bathroom?” At his thoughtful expression, she knew the answer. “Go check. Damn. You’re the cop here.”

  “It’s detective,” he said, sounding exasperated even as he moved to do as she bade.

  “That’s even better. Go detect.”

  He stopped in the doorway. “Do not step across this,” he warned, pointing down at a line of something that almost appeared to be salt, but it was too thick, painted in a line across the threshold.

  The red-haired woman who’d been the first of the neighbors to arrive, released a heavy sigh. “Honey, ain’t nobody going in there. Go check the damn bathroom.”

  Trey didn’t as much as glance in the other woman’s direction. Instead, he held her stare, stubbornly refusing to budge until she gave in.

  “I promise. Now go,” she ordered with an impatient wave. The moment he dipped inside, they all shuffled closer, but no one disobeyed his order.

  “Years ago, I got invited to a séance party.” It was odd. Arbor didn’t think she’d ever seen a single one of her neighbors since she moved in. Now, here they all were, gathered in hopes of a bit of gossip. The woman who’d whispered the words next to Arbor had lovely emerald-colored eyes and the most beautiful blonde hair that Arbor had ever seen. At her conspiratorial tone, Arbor found herself hanging on every word. When the woman saw she had Arbor’s full attention, she winked and held out her hand for Arbor to shake. “I’m Harper Angelo.”

  “Arbor Sinclair,” Arbor said, accepting her handshake before turning back to watch for any signs of Trey. Harper continued her story.

  “At the time, it sounded like fun. Of course, I got there, and it was every bit as ridiculous as you’d expect. There was this old lady wearing a gauze costume who was supposedly a medium. She even had a crystal ball that lit up when she touched it. Very high-tech,” Harper added with a snort. “Anyhow, instead of joining in, I chose to watch from the sidelines. From my vantage point, I could see the woman kicking the legs of the table, making it shake.” The laughter in Harper’s voice made Arbor smile. She could picture this sham of a party happening in her mind. “Everyone was giggling and screaming as if it was the best show they’d ever seen. I was bored with it. In fact, I’m not sure I’ve ever rolled my eyes so many times in one night before or since. But then, I caught sight of this man sitting alone in the corner. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen him before that moment. He was wearing this ridiculously expensive dark business suit, at complete odds with everyone else in the room. He was watching me. His eyes…” Harper fell silent. Arbor pondered over what the hell her story had to do with anything.

 

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