Ruin: The El Diablo Chronicles

by Autumn Sand

  His coal-black eyes stare deep into my green ones, and I break open the last part of me—the part I never show...my honesty.

  The tears begin to fall down my cheeks as if a dam was broken.

  He halts for a moment and his eyes flicker with…something, but then he pushes even deeper inside of me, touching places that have never been touched before.

  I want this so bad—him, this, him and this some more, and my tears show it.

  This is not the casual fuck I’ve become accustomed to in order to drown out my pain, this is the fuck I needed to allow myself to heal because he sees me. The first man to do so. He sees who I am, even when I couldn’t see it myself.

  Something ignites inside of me, like a slow-burning ember that is becoming a larger flame. It rips through me so quick, setting my entire world on fire, and my mind has yet to catch up to what is happening. I orgasm so loud, I drown out all thoughts of my past and my present because I’m so molded into the moment…this moment with him.

  His release follows soon after mine, something I suspect he was holding back, waiting for me.

  We both lay on the bed, panting. My limbs are weak and my body is spent. He reaches over and pulls me against him, giving me a lingering kiss.

  “That one was the apology. Now, let’s get down to business,” he says in my ear, barely giving my brain enough time to catch up when he flips me over and slams back inside of me again.

  I sit in the chair in the corner of her bedroom and watch her sleep. She tosses and turns and sometimes whimpers. It makes me want to take her back into my arms and…I don’t know what, but I want to somehow make it disappear. Whatever she runs from in other men’s beds.

  A large jar of quarters sits on her nightstand and I wonder what they’re there for. There is no opening to slide in more change, they are all quarters, and the jar is sealed. I know because I tried to open it.

  “Please, Daddy, don’t!” she cries out and suddenly sits up in her bed, her hair disheveled from the things of pleasure I did to her. Her skin is glistening from sweat and her eyes are wild with terror.

  I stand and take a step towards the bed, only to stop when she yelps out into the dark room.

  “It’s me,” I say, my hands up in the air as I wait for her to shake off the reality of her nightmare.

  “El?” She sounds scared and timid.

  “Yeah, I’m going to approach the bed…okay?” I wait for her approval, still unsure of her state.

  She exhales loudly and wipes her hands over her face. “Oh my God. This is so embarrassing.”

  “Can I approach?” The question for permission is foreign to me but I still give her the respect of waiting.

  Her hair falls around her shoulders as she nods. Slowly, I approach the bed and sit next to her.

  We sit in silence for a moment before she says, “I would’ve thought you would be long gone by now.” She reaches over and flips on the light. We both blink at the sudden brightness in the room.

  I ignore her statement, not because it’s not true, but because I don’t know how to answer it. At least for now. “What was the dream about?” I realize for the first time, I actually asked a woman I fucked a question about herself instead of, “Shall I call you a cab?”

  She looks away, refusing to gift me the look of her jade eyes.

  “You tossed in your sleep most of the night,” I say, and wait.

  “Did I?” She shifts uneasily in the bed, looking down and, realizing she is still very much naked, she lifts the sheet to cover the breasts I had my mouth on mere hours ago.

  I reach out and lower her hand, which lowers the sheet, exposing her to me once again. “You did.”

  She stands and gives me a wide berth as she walks towards her bathroom connected to her room. “I’m going to take a shower. I got a ton of things to do.” She closes the bathroom door behind her and I hear the lock that shuts me out.

  If I was the man for her, I would plead for her to let me in. I would hold her in my arms and promise her everything will be all right. Perhaps one of those other assholes she’s slept with would be better equipped for that. But instead, she has me in her bed and I’m not the one who knows how to handle this situation. So, when she closed that door and shut me out…I have to admit, I was thankful for the out she gave me.

  This would be less painful for her in the long run since once our business has concluded, I will never see her again. Chicken was right, I shouldn’t have mixed business and pleasure together.

  I sit on the floor of my tub with the pellets of water hitting my back like a whip. The past I’ve tried to drown becomes my nightmares at night when I lay my head down. I’ve run for so long, I don’t think I know how not to run, but yet I’m too tired to keep going.

  The sex with El last night was incredible. Mind-blowing, but it didn’t take the demons that lurk in my dreams—it only gave them more strength to break through.

  Slowly I lift my head. My hair clings to my back and I feel trapped. By my past, by the present I’ve made for myself, just trapped by everything and I want to scream. But, I don’t have the energy to do it.

  As I rise, I turn off the shower and climb out of the tub. Not bothering to dry myself off, I grab my robe and pull it around my naked body. For a moment, it offers me a sense of false security.

  With one look in the mirror, I see someone who is spent and sleep-deprived, a person who isn’t in the proper mindset to go to work. I debate if I should call out. Problem is, if I do, I will be left with nothing but myself and she is a person I’d rather not be around today.

  Quickly, I grab some clothes from my closet and begin to dress hurriedly even though I don’t have to be at the club for another six hours.

  I just have to get out of this house. Maybe I can walk around outside or just go to the club and do some inventory. Anything to keep me busy, I’m not picky.

  I don’t bother with looking in the mirror, as I usually do to make sure I’m flawless. Today, the world will see me sans makeup for the first time and in my ballet flats instead of heels. I throw my hair in a ponytail and grab my wristlet and cell phone.

  Turning to head towards my door, I stop in front of the jar that holds my self-worth. Anger bubbles from deep down inside of me. I have a sudden urge to knock the blasted jar to the floor, shattering it and the years I spent with his and her abuse. I want to yell out at the world that I was a child, damn it, and who was there to protect me? Why did these things happen to me? Would my life be different in some way had I not been the one he chose? If my father and baby brother did not die that night, would my life be like Cyma’s? Would Tick want me?

  Would I know how to love myself?

  If you can’t learn to love yourself, how can you show someone how to love you?

  The anger morphs into pain, deep in my soul. Pain for all the lost years.

  But instead of knocking the jar to the ground, I pick it up and cradle it in my arms like a newborn baby. I hold my self-worth in my arms protectively before placing it back in its resting place.

  I yank the bedroom door open and walk out into the hallway, towards the living room, where I stop, too frozen to walk any further. My heart lurches in my chest and everything spins around me. There he sits, looking out of place in my small living room with the cheap furniture. But there he sits, waiting.

  “W-what are you doing here?” I stammer.

  He stands and exhales, looking uneasy, as if this is new territory for him. He takes a step towards me with trepidation in his eyes.

  “I asked myself the same thing.” He looks down for a moment before returning his gaze to mine. “I don’t do this…” He twirls his finger in the air, as if the word he’s searching for would magically appear.

  Shame overwhelms me as my cheeks flush. I look away for a moment as I try to gather my thoughts. “El, you don’t have to—”

  “I know I don’t.” He grinds his teeth, like he’s trying to force out the most difficult response in the world. This man—who
is most likely a killer—looks lost and confused in a foreign emotion. “I’ve walked through life for so many years, not feeling, not caring.”

  He turns his back to me, unable to say what he has to say unless he is looking at an inanimate object. “I even cut out my own family. I told myself it was for their safety. But it was also because I chose not to see myself and what could’ve been in my family’s eyes.” He turns back to me. “Yeah, I can walk away. Actually, that’s the thing I’m most comfortable with. But I have the feeling you and I are more alike than we care to admit.”

  I listen to his words carefully. “So, you’re trying to be my knight in shining armor?”

  He shakes his head. “No, that bullshit is for fairy tales.” He pauses for a long, thoughtful moment, but then something comes over his face, a shadow of who he is. A tremor travels up my spine before eventually turning into hope. He takes a step closer to me, his hand reaching up and stroking my cheek tenderly. “I’m the motherfucker who kills the man that turned your dreams into nightmares.”

  I wait in the living room as she packs a few things to stay with me for the night, both of us agreeing she should call out of work. I can’t make any promises to her about relationships and things like that, but I can make—and keep—the promise of killing the person who did this to her.

  The front door unlocks and opens. In walks her roommate and her boyfriend, an older man. From the intel Chicken was able to gather for me, I’m at the advantage of knowing her roommate’s name and her boyfriend as well. Chicken couldn’t gather much information on the boyfriend’s past but what we do know is that he’s a church fanatic. One of those true believer types.

  “Oh hi, you must be a friend of Tals?” Maggie walks in and shakes my hand. “Blessed be, brother, my home is your home.” She smiles as her boyfriend walks over to her and places an arm protectively around her waist. “This is my boyfriend, Clay. Clay, this is…” She looks at me in confusion.

  “El,” I say.

  She smiles heartily. “El, this is Clay.”

  We both shake hands, not the pissing contest most men do when they shake. Both of us feeling cocky enough to know we can best the other. My eyes go to the tattoo on his hand—a cross on rosary beads looped around his wrist.

  “Interesting tat,” I say as I lower my hand with the ring of the devil on it.

  He lifts his hand and smiles. “It’s there to remind me how far I’ve come and what a long way I have to go. Now I spread the word of His love to everyone.”

  I hold back a yawn and look down the hall in hopes of Tallie coming out and getting me away from the Bible thumpers in the house.

  “Will you stay for breakfast?” Maggie holds up a bag of food.

  “I, uh—”

  “Hey, Mags.” Tals comes out just in time and hugs her roommate. Then her eyes settle on the tall giant next to her friend and she offers her hand to shake. “I take it you’re Clay.”

  He takes her hand and kisses the back of it instead. “Yes, and you must be Tallie. Maggie told me so much about you.”

  “Maggie?” Tals frowns.

  “Oh yes, Clay said that Mags is my former life. Now that I’ve given myself to Jesus, I need to use the name I haven’t sinned under.” She kisses his cheek.

  “Oh wow. Uh…” Tallie is lost for words.

  “But you can still call me Mags.” The silence is thick and awkward between them. She holds up the bag of food again. “We were about to cook breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”

  I open my mouth to say we have plans but Tallie answers for both of us.

  “We would love to.” Her smile is tight as she watches her friend and Clay go in the kitchen.

  “Not exactly what I had planned for the morning,” I mumble under my breath.

  She turns around to face me. “Sorry. It’s just that this is the first time she has brought him home. I want to get a feel for him. He has changed so much about her, I’m afraid she’s jumping into something that she shouldn’t.”

  I exhale and nod my understanding. “Want me to have some men follow him?”

  She bites her bottom lip as she debates my question. “No, I don’t think I should go that far. But thanks for the offer.”

  Clay walks out of the kitchen with his shirt unbuttoned and goes to Maggie’s bedroom. Tallie and I both look at each other in curiosity. He comes out moments later without his shirt and has changed into a wife beater. The thin white material doesn’t hide the massive tattoo of Jesus nailed to the cross on his back. The details are intricate on the art and I can tell it must’ve taken weeks to complete.

  “What the…?” Tal’s says under her breath.

  I shrug. “He loves Jesus.”

  An hour later, Maggie and Clay set the table for all of us to sit and eat. After they say the blessing, we all eat in silence. The sounds of us chewing is the entertainment for the most part.

  “This is delicious,” Tallie says in between bites.

  “Clay did most of the cooking. You know I’m horrible in the kitchen.” She reaches out and squeezes his hand.

  “I’ll teach you.” He offers her a piece of his toast and they look disgustingly…normal.

  I look over at Tallie to see how she feels about this and by the way she is rolling her eyes, she’s thinking the same exact thing.

  “So, what are your plans for the evening?” Tallie asks.

  I pause, my fork midway to my mouth as I hope this isn’t going in the direction I think it is.

  “Oh nothing. We’ll watch some TV, I guess. What about the two of you?” Maggie asks.

  Tals looks at me for a moment and turns back to them. “We were considering going to Edge tonight.”

  I swallow my food and give her a glare.

  Maggie’s eyes brighten. “I’ve always wanted to go to Edge. Do you have a membership? It’s super exclusive.”

  I pat Tallie on the knee, warning her I’ll take over from here. “A friend of mine has a membership. He lets me go whenever I like.”

  Maggie dances in her seat and then she sees the look Clay has given her. “Oh, well. We really shouldn’t go to places like that.”

  She can barely mask her disappointment and a wicked gleam comes across Tallie’s face—her friend isn’t completely lost to her after all. “Are you sure? It would be so much fun if you could go. It’s not like you have to participate or anything.”

  Maggie looks over at Clay with hopeful eyes. To my surprise, he nods his approval and she wraps her arms around him in a giant hug.

  I try not to roll my eyes at the two of them, but then I see Tallie’s face and how happy my offer has made her.

  I arrange for a car to pick up Maggie and Clay and bring them to Edge to meet Tallie and I. Business was the reason why I needed to arrive earlier and, well, Tallie wanted to come along to familiarize herself with the club. Chicken arranged for a private show for us in one of the VIP rooms.

  “I just can’t believe that we’re here.” Maggie stares in excitement at the various performers, as well as the goings-on with some of the clients.

  “Anything goes here,” Tallie muses. She looks light and airy as if she doesn’t have the weight of the world on her shoulders.

  I look over at Clay, who is watching Tallie and the way her body moves in the dress that looks as if it were sewn on to her.

  I’ve never been the guy’s guy and really don’t know what to talk about in terms of conversation with him. “All right there, Clay?” I ask casually as I sip my drink.

  He sits back in his seat. “Yeah. There’s a lot of temptation in this place.”

  “Lucky for you, it doesn’t hurt to look.” I clap him on the back a little harder than necessary. He is staring at my date’s ass, after all.

  Chicken signals to me the performers are ready.

  “Well, time for our show. Shall we go to the room?” I stand and collect Tallie in my arm. Clay stares at my hand around her waist.

  “I can’t wait to see this private show.” Talli
e laughs as we walk towards the VIP section.

  When we arrive at the room, our personal hostess greets us in a dominatrix outfit of red-and-black leather bodice. Her skin tight miniskirt and thigh-high boots round out the entire look. A half mask covers her eyes, leaving just her painted ruby red lips open.

  “I’ll be your Mistress for the evening,” she says as she claps the leather whip against her hands. “Get comfortable and enjoy the show.” She steps aside to allow us to walk into the room.

  Inside, the room is decorated in hues of red and black. There are cushioned seats and loveseats surrounding a large stage with a bed in the center. This is where the show will be held. On either side of the room is a fully stocked bar and finger foods.

  “You really went all out,” Tallie mumbles under her breath.

  I smile and lightly kiss her lips. She leans in for a deeper kiss but I smile and pull away. “Save that for later,” I murmur.

  Clay and Maggie are both already seated with bottled water in their hands. I nod at one of the bartenders and he starts mixing up drinks for Tallie and myself as I guide her to our seat, which is the loveseat in the center of the room.

  Our drinks are placed on the table next to us just as the room dims. A woman’s soft voice comes over the speaker. “Welcome to La Fantasia. The one place where every fantasy is welcomed.”

  Clouds of smoke puff out around the stage and when the smoke begins to clear, the performers are in place on the stage and the bed. The soft scent of jasmine floats in the air, helping to further push everyone in the mood.

  Tallie crosses her legs and leans into my body. I place my arm over the back of the loveseat so she can edge her way closer to me.

  The show begins. Again, the woman’s voice comes over the speaker as she reads out an adult version fairy tale. The naked performers act out the scenes as she reads them. Picture this as a live porno with better acting.

  The performers garner a few gasps of excitement from Tallie and Maggie. Tallie’s excitement is shown through her massaging of my nether region, her expert fingers hinting at what’s to come for later. I bite my bottom lip as I try to withhold a climax, wanting to save that for when I’m inside her tight pussy.