by Lucian Bane
They needed a counselor to help reason this shit out. She wasn’t qualified to be doing any of this. She closed her eyes and prayed for direction before returning.
His gaze was still hot and maybe fearful, or excited as he followed her every move toward him. The heave in his body said whatever he was feeling was gradually building. To what?
She sat next to him and reached out to stroke his face. Every inch of it. His eyes remained locked on hers, seeming to wait for something. For her to give some kind of answer or verdict? What was she supposed to say? What did he need to hear, and why? Everything about his mannerisms said he was hiding things and up to something.
She pushed through the fear of him and leaned in, pressing her lips to his. The gasp on her mouth and the careful way he touched her face made her draw back. Her breath froze with the sudden uncanny sensation that she was face to face with the psychopath in his head.
“Don’t…” he suddenly whispered, seeming to fight to speak. “Don’t…listen…”
Her pulse hammered at watching him tremble and strain to speak. “Ben? What’s wrong?” She pulled back and he grabbed her face, smashing her lips to his.
She fought sudden terror at the ferocity in his grip. Stroking his face and hair, she kissed him back, her half whimpers mixed with his seething growls. At the first give in his hold she shoved away from him and ordered, “Stop it!” She stumbled back a few feet, catching her breath. “Don’t you do that to me!” she ordered, jabbing a finger at him.
He eyed her for many seconds. “Do what? Kiss you?”
The smile on his face said he was back in his wrong mind. “Ben, listen to me. You screw up, and you’ll be in a hospital, remember?” She closed her robe and tied it tight.
He gradually sat up, his gaze lazily lowering to her chest before rolling back to her face. “Or I could kill you and everybody else here, bury you, and leave before anybody found out. I already have all the hiding places up here.” He tapped his temple.
Sickness churned her stomach.
He rolled his eyes and flopped onto his back. “God, Cheryl, I’m fucking joking, geeze. Didn’t I have a smidgen of humor before this?”
She stared, dumbfounded as she pressed her fist into her burning chest, staring at her husband, her Ben. The man she desperately wanted to love and adore, now, a stranger. A psychopath.
She raced to the drawer and opened it, a sob gushing out of her as she pulled clothes out.
“What are you doing?”
The instant worry and suspicion in his voice mixed fear into her sadness. Then anger. “I don’t know what I’m doing! What am I doing?” she asked the universe, confused. “Why am I here? What do you want from me? What am I supposed to do?”
She faced him as he sat against the headboard with one leg drawn up and his arm draped over it, angling his stupid handsome face at her. She looked down, needing to hold her anger. “What do you mean…” he said with that shy, light laugh. “You’re my wife.” That was anything and everything anybody needed to know. That was the answer, the only fact that mattered.
“Yes, I am,” she said, dropping the clothes on the floor and picking up the black panties. “And right now, your wife is going downstairs to cook her family breakfast.” She stepped into her underwear then snatched up the black pajama pants next. “And as my husband, you should get dressed and come help me.” She turned to disrobe and quickly put on the pajama top.
“Don’t you think bedtime attire is a little inappropriate given we have a Chinaman living with us?”
She turned, shaking her head at him. “These pajamas are five inches thick,” she said to him. “You’re being paranoid.” He needed reminding of the symptoms that clearly crippled his judgement.
He stared out the window like an obstinate teen and she made her way over to him, stopping next to the bed. When he refused to look at her, she moved into his line of sight, earning that lazy roll of his eyes up to hers. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I love you. Are you hungry for eggs? Bacon? Pancakes?” She kissed his cheeks then nose with each food item, desperate to have her sweet husband back.
“Let me eat your pussy first,” he said, catching her arm and pulling her onto the bed.
“No!” She pushed back, fighting out of his hold.
He let her go but she was well aware he could’ve made her and even wanted to. And though she could fight him, she didn’t want to do that.
“I’ll shower and call Uncle Leroy. I want to get busy learning everything about Mr. Friend.”
He was back to gazing at the window. The Nebraska effect, she realized. Was it because he was closer to the place he was from, where he’d committed those…crimes? Making his habits and urges worse? “I’ll get breakfast done and change. I’d like to go into town with Charlie and Alice and do some grocery shopping. Cook a family meal.”
“Fine,” he said, sounding anything but. “Maybe I’ll take Charlie with me and Uncle Leroy for some bonding.”
Sudden terror spiked through her as he eyed her. “Yes, right,” she nodded, forcing the normal words while holding his studious stare. Charlie was big enough to handle himself. She’d talk to him…remind him of his dad’s instability. Somehow let him know he was worse than before without implying what he was doing with her.
Frank’s Home
Charlie sat up in bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes at seeing the serious look on his mom’s face as she closed and locked his bedroom door. “What’s up?” he wondered when she sat on the bed next to him.
“Your dad wants you to go with him and Uncle Leroy today.”
“Okay… where?”
“To see what they can find out about Mr. Friend.”
He eyed her, waiting to hear what she thought was wrong with that.
She looked down at her hands then gave him a weak smile. “Your dad is…is different since we got here.”
His stomach tensed at the oddity of how she said it. “How?”
She returned to looking at her hands. “He’s… he seems more… not himself.”
That she struggled to explain was concerning him more. “Like what exactly?” he asked as she looked around the room.
“Just…more paranoid. Fidgety. Very fidgety.” Back to staring at her hands now. “He has nightmares and…he’s…”
Charlie noticed the tremble in them. “Are you okay?”
Her tears gushed without warning, bringing Charlie to sit up straighter as terror gnawed at his guts. “I’m fine,” she said, wiping her tears. “It’s just…he’s…his behavior is so different. Kinda scary,” she added, not looking at him. “And I just want you aware, so you’re not freaked out when you go with him. I mean maybe he won’t be so different with you, I don’t know. I just want you prepared. And…to be careful. He’s more…unpredictable.”
Charlie stared at her, finally figuring out what he was sensing. “You’re scared of him.”
Her gaze flew to his and held it before she gave a hesitant nod.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, his pulse racing in worry.
“No,” she said, lowering her head. Something said she wasn’t being entirely honest. He’d clearly hurt her, but how, was the question.
“Mom,” Charlie whispered. “You know what dad told me. I have a duty to protect you.”
She nodded, slow at first, then picked up speed. “I know that. But we have to also be careful.”
“What do you mean?”
She looked at him for many seconds. “What happens if they find out he’s here? What will they do? He’s supposed to be dead.”
He’d thought of it too. “That’s why he wears a cap and scarf and glasses.”
“I’m just saying…if they somehow found out…” She eyed him, fear darkening her eyes. “We need to think of the worst-case scenario. If they learn about the operation, they may wonder… ‘does he remember’? And…maybe he’s a liability now, and that makes us…all a liability,” she barely whispered, nodding. “You see what I mean
?”
“Yes, I do,” he said, the sudden need to check on Alice, moving him out of the bed. He’d been having his own set of paranoid ideas about everything and most of them included his dad flipping out and becoming the psychopath and hurting her too. “I realize how serious this is,” he said, walking to his dresser. “I know dad is dangerous.” She needed to understand his own worst-case scenarios playing in his head.
A look of horror seemed to freeze her face before it crumpled with sobs. He hurried over and gave her the hug she needed, and maybe he needed to give. “Charlie,” she gasped, hugging him back. “I’m so scared for him. For us. I feel like…since we got here, he’s…he’s more in touch with…the wrong things?”
Charlie released her, looking at her lowered head as she wiped her face. “He’s remembering more.”
She bobbed her head in agreement, sliding her hands along her legs. “He’s…becoming more too. I think Alice should stay with me today?” She eyed him and he agreed.
“Definitely.”
“Does…what does she know?”
He turned and raked both hands through his hair. “Just that dad is doing great.”
“Oh Charlie,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry you have to lie, I know you hate doing that.”
“I’m not sorry,” Charlie said, emphatic. “We’re doing what it takes to protect us from harm. Our family. You remember what dad said,” he reminded, getting her nod. “I plan to stick to that directive. I’ve already talked to Uncle Leroy about the gun, too. Like dad told me to. Right when we got here? Remember?”
She nodded a lot. “Good. Does your dad know?”
“No. And now that you’ve said this, I don’t think I’ll volunteer it. If I have to lie to him, if I feel like I need to, I will. You have to agree to do the same. Okay?”
She agreed with a deep breath, letting it out. She stood, appearing tired and confused. He walked over to her and kissed her forehead. “Get ready,” she said, hugging him once more. “I’m getting breakfast started.”
“I’ll let Alice know.”
“Tell her I’d like to go into town and get groceries. I was thinking to cook a normal family meal, what do you think?”
He forced a smile with, “I’d like that,” while wishing it was normal. “I’ll have my phone in case I need to tell you anything. But be ready to hide things from him. Safety first, okay?”
She nodded.
“You sure you can do that?”
More nods.
“Good. See you in a bit, then.”
Two minutes after his mom left, he opened his drawer and got jeans and t-shirt. A soft knock drew his gaze as the door opened. Alice. The sight of her sent his body into a mild shock of some kind. Like it couldn’t believe she was his and needed to verify with much touching with every part of himself.
She hurried in and closed the door then turned to face him, her gaze lowering. At seeing her lips part as she eyed his groin, he covered his arousal with his bundle of clothes. She burned him with her eyes that dragged up to his naked chest.
She walked towards him, and arousal pushed and pulsed through his blood.
“Morning Charlie,” she said, suddenly detouring to his bed and sitting on it with a tiny smile and bounce.
He went to the door to lock it, smiling at her as he did. “Morning Alice,” he said back. Locking them in the room felt foolish, but he didn’t want anybody just barging in, either.
When he turned, she stared at his naked chest openly. “You sleep with no shirt on?” She raised her gaze to his.
“Yes,” he said, answering honestly.
She patted the bed next to her, inviting him to sit. When he did, she turned and faced him with that beautiful smile he loved more every day.
“How did you sleep?” he asked, setting his clothes on the bed next to him.
“In a muscle shirt and panties,” she informed cutely, making his dick harder than it already was. “Black,” she added with an innocent smile.
It was anything but innocent and Charlie’s gaze lowered to the red t-shirt she wore, unable to keep from imagining her with nothing at all.
“Do you want to see? I still have them on.”
God, she was too tempting. And she knew it. “I would prefer seeing you with nothing at all. On our wedding night.”
She gave a light sigh of frustration and turned herself away, falling onto her back on the bed.
“What?” he asked, angling his gaze over his shoulder at her.
“You are teasing!” she cried.
“Me!” he laughed.
“You have no shirt! You want me to only ever think of sex, and that’s what I do. I hope you are happy! Then you make me wait for a thousand years for anything at all.”
He turned and reclined on his elbow next to her. “Whose room is this?”
“Yours!” she said, staring at the ceiling.
He smiled, somehow more tempted by her sweet anger than anything. “I thought you said you’d do what I needed, Alice in Wonderland.”
She slapped his hand off when he slid it along her arm, making him laugh. “No touching?”
“You’re going to punish me?”
She turned on her side, pinning her glare on him.
He took in the sight of her, laying there on his bed. “Why are you so sexy?”
Her mouth dropped with wide eyes. “See?”
“See what?” he laughed.
“You tease me! Maybe I will have to find a boyfriend that wants me more than you do.”
He stared at her, his heart hammering before leaning in and giving her a kiss. Before he could pull back, she grabbed his face and kissed him back. He stroked along her cheek, loving the softness of her. “Where would you find such a person? There is nobody that wants you more than I do.”
She held on to his face with both hands and pulled him to her lips, sending his pulse racing. He braced his hand on the bed for when she tried to go further, knowing she would. She had no control whatsoever and that made it a lot harder.
The second he thought it, he somehow ended on top of her with her legs wrapping his waist. Before he could react, she latched her hands on his butt and pressed, forcing the very thing he fought not to engage. Like a reflex, he pushed back, helping her. She stole his protests right from his mind and mouth with her lips and tongue. There was suddenly no other communication he knew, and his every breath and taste destroyed the cause he fought to even remember.
“No!” he insisted, pushing off her, earning her sputtering gasps. He aimed his finger at her dropped jaw. “No!”
That was all he could manage as he grabbed his shirt from off the bed.
“I could make you, you know,” she warned, or informed, making him laugh.
His heart raced as he shook his head, realizing he’d have to be firmer with her. “Don’t mistake my submission to God lightly, Alice,” he warned, stressing her sweet name.
She sat up with more shocked sputtering. “Are you challenging me?”
“Ohhhh, no. I’m not.” He worked the shirt over his abs, smiling at her. “But you are challenging me as usual. Why do you do that? Are you testing me? You want to see just how weak or strong I am?” At seeing the look on her face, he nodded. He was right. “Go ahead. Test me. And I will show you what it means when I say I’m committed to loving you the way I feel you should be loved.”
The burst of shock she gave made him laugh as he bravely sat on the bed next to her, pulling on his jeans.
“I’m so…ugh!” she cried, flopping back onto the bed roughly. “Frustrated!”
“I am too, trust me,” he assured, standing and zipping up before sitting again.
“So, we can’t do anything? You said you would see if maybe we could, remember?”
He let out a sigh, putting his hands on his thighs. He would’ve wanted to ask his dad what to do, but now…. And his mom, she was pro-Alice in this according to her track record.
“Fine, Charlie,” she said, scooting to the edge
of the bed. She planted a kiss on his cheek and stood. “I don’t want you to do anything you would hate me for,” she said, angry that he might or would.
He snatched her arm, stopping her cute spin of angry departure. She turned those pissed eyes on him and jerked her arm. He held her tighter, shaking his head.
“You’re not going to punish me for loving you,” he assured, kind of pissed she would.
“Teasing again!” she cried.
“Me teasing you?” He couldn’t believe his ears.
Her adamant wide-eyed nod proved her delusion and again she jerked, and again he held tighter.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“I won’t beg for it!”
“With words?” he asked.
“With nothing,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“Are we fighting?” he wondered.
“If we were, you would be hurting and not smiling your stupid cute smile.”
His grin grew at seeing how serious she was. “I’ll make you a deal.”
“I won’t make a deal.”
“I’ll give you pleasure, but you can’t touch me.”
She dropped her jaw in anger. “Pleasure for torment? That is a stupid deal Charlie Brown.”
“I can’t take when you give me pleasure.”
“I can’t take not giving it!”
“And I can’t take you mad at me,” he said.
A knock sounded at the door and he loosened his hold on her hand, standing. He stole a kiss as he passed her and she pushed him, making him laugh as he opened the door.
Dad. His head was lowered, hand bracing on the door jamb. “Morning Dad,” he said, his stomach jerking at the direct eye contact he locked on him.
His face broke out in a genuine seeming smile until he saw Alice. “Oh, sorry. I was coming to see if you wanted to ride with me and Uncle Leroy.”
