by A. E. D
With trembling hands from the rising panic attack, I point to a long scar that went from my left hip to the small of my back. A horrid looking scar that was the only one I ever stitched myself.
“My father gave me this just before I killed him.” I pulled my top up, which then turned into a boob tube covering my breasts. Pushing through the flashing trauma in my mind and the ghostly feelings of pain each scar caused, I turned around to face them, eyes focused on the button and zipper of my jeans as my hands continued their trembling. Pulling them halfway down my legs, I run my finger across a scar on the outside of my right thigh, one I usually traced when I was lost in thought.
“The men that brought me to America gave me this.” I pointed to the scar on my thigh. I got stabbed in the thigh when I tried to escape. It was a bad move on their part because I then used that same knife to slit their throats. Turning my leg outward so that they can see the inside of my thigh, I point to a gunshot wound.
“This one nearly killed me. It nicked the femoral artery. The men that brought me from Russia to America were sex traffickers. They were planning on selling me but I fought my way out. When the last guy stabbed me in the leg, I used that knife to kill him but he pulled out a gun and shot me first. Some nurse found me on the street and bandaged my leg up. I had emergency surgery that night to fix the artery.” They were the major scars I had. I didn’t bother telling them about the smaller ones or the multiple broken bones I had over the years because they were all the same. They all had the same type of story.
Pulling my jeans back up, I popped the button through the hole before looking up. What I saw had my heart thumping wildly. Both Mason and Keenan had paled, the blood had long since left their face. Their eyes and mouths were open with tears were streaming down their faces. I’d never seen Keenan cry before but seeing him like this had my chest constricting so hard I had to hold it, feeling as if the beating from my chest was going to beat right through the skin. I never wanted to hurt Keenan ever. He was too sweet of a boy to hurt.
“Keenan-” I went to take a step forward but he stepped away from me, running into the kitchen before throwing up in the sink, not having enough time to reach the bathroom. My heart continued to beat so hard and fast. I had never seen a sight so heartbreaking before.
I didn’t realize I was crying until the first tear slid down my cheek.
What have I done?
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The boy I’d come to care for had tears streaming down his face as he continued to throw up. Heave after heave, my chest strained more from guilt. Guilt that I’m the one that did this to him. I can feel my emotions and walls starting to fade in and build back up again as I take a step forward with the intention of going to him but Mason stops me. With the colour still gone from his face, he looked at me with the saddest eyes.
“Just..Give him time. What you said, that..” He takes a deep breath before continuing.
“It’s not an easy thing to hear. I can see how much the kid loves you and I know how protective he is of you. Hearing that, you just wouldn’t expect that to come from such a strong woman like you.” I could see him trying to lighten the mood but his eyes say differently. He’s tormented by my past. Anyone would be if they went through what I did but it’s just that, the past. I don’t stay there, I moved on. Occasionally I find myself thrown back into a memory and I can’t help but be on high alert afterwards. The past few years I’ve lived in absolute freedom but also hell. I’ve gotten PTSD from my childhood and even though I am free from that monster I grew up with, I’m still thrown back into hell from my attacks. But besides the occasional panic attack, I haven’t had to be careful about what I say, what I do, I haven’t had to watch my back or watch the people around me. Trying to analyze whether they are going to hurt me or not. I’d briefly revert back to my old ways after my PTSD would strike, but I eventually set my mind straight again, with the help from Keenan.
Those were the moments Keenan was talking about. Coming out of my memories are sometimes a traumatic experience.
I went to speak again but my breath was taken from me by a strong force hitting me. Catching my breath, I realize that Keenan is hugging me like his life depended on it. I felt my eyes tear up at the amount of love that was pouring out of him.
So, I hugged him back.
We stayed there for so long but we didn’t even care. It was a moment we both needed.
After a while we broke apart, both of us wiping our eyes clear of tears. I stared at Keenan to make sure that he was okay, especially after his reaction to my past. I needed to make sure he was. But it didn’t take long for that mischievous glint to shine in his eyes once more.
“Did he scream like a little bitch when he saw Congo?” He grinned, motioning to Mason with a flick of his head. I started laughing, thinking back to the night before when Mason woke me up from his still manly but high-pitched scream. As if Congo knew we were talking about him, he slithered out from his hidey hole, wherever that was this time of day and started to climb up me like a tree. Masons eyes instantly darted to Congo and watched him like he was a threat. Once Congo was settled on my shoulders like a faux fur scarf, I answered Keenan's question.
“He screamed so loud he woke me up. I came outside and Congo was wrapped around him in his death grip. It was actually quite funny. I’m sure the cameras recorded it.” I said rubbing Congo’s head like he’s a puppy starving for affection.
“I thought he was going to eat me! And where are the cameras?! I even looked for them.” At this I smirked. My cameras are specifically made to my standards and undetected to the unsuspecting eye. You’ll only find them if you know what they look like.
“Dude, Congo wouldn’t hurt a fly. He’s like a big puppy.” Keenan said stepping closer to pat Congo’s body.
“Like fuck he’s a puppy! Look at him!” Mason exclaimed. Keenan laughed before he placed a kiss on top of Congo’s head. Congo replied with a head rub against his cheek.
“If you’re afraid of Congo, you should see The Pitt.” He says, grinning like there’s no tomorrow. I let out a breathy laugh before stepping towards Mason. He stepped back once before stopping, looking unsure at me and Congo. I grab his hand and pull him towards my special room. He slowly trails behind me, making sure to keep distance between him and the large snake around my shoulders. I roll my eyes and begin entering the code to my snake pit. Opening the door to the dark room, deep ember lights shine in each glass tank. I flick the light switch on to illuminate the room fully and then I step aside, letting Mason enter.
His eyes bulge out of his head as his mouth drops open. I can see the wonder in his eyes as they scan each tank, going from left to right before starting at the next row of tanks. He slowly steps forward, getting a better look at each glass tank. He looks at each one, studying the snake if they’re in view. He gets to one tank and I prepare myself for what’s about to happen. I look at Keenan to see he’s got the same smirk on his face. Mason steps forward gaining a closer look at the snake I know is hiding in the shadows of his tank, lying in wait. When Mason can’t see the snake, he leans forward, frowning as he gets closer until his face is a mere centimeter from the glass. That’s when he strikes. The snake snaps out of his burrow and smashes against the glass in a move too fast for Mason to see until it’s too late. Mason yells out, flinging himself backwards from the tanks, tripping over his feet before landing on his ass. Keenan and I break out in a fit of laughter with tears streaming down our faces. I have to hold my stomach because it hurt so much. Mason stood up looking pissed. He looked back at the glass tank with snake venom sprayed across the glass. The snake is still there, watching Mason intently in a defensive position before slithering away.
“Alright, what the fuck was that about?” Mason said crossing his arms against his chest, looking real angry now and maybe slightly embarrassed.
I look at Keenan again to see him holding in a laugh and that just breaks me down. I start laughing again, I couldn’t help it. My si
des hurt from laughing so hard and my face is wet from all the tears. I’ve never laughed this much, ever and I mean ever. I never had fun like this growing up. Yeah Keenan has made me laugh once or twice before but never this much. I like it. I like the feeling I get when I laugh. I like how I feel around these two. It’s like they’re unlocking a different side to me that I never knew I had. A playful side.
Finally taking a breath and composing myself, I answer him.
“I wouldn't stand too close to him. He’s one of the most aggressive snakes in here. I haven’t fed him yet so he’s extra pissy.” I walk to the right side of the room where a 700 litre deep freezer is. Lifting the lid, I scan through the little bags of frozen rats and mice. Choosing one of the big ones, I close the lid, walking back over to the feisty snakes' tank.
I’ve got to be quick in opening the lid because this particular snake is quick. If he’s pissed then he’s sure to strike the second I open the lid. But that is why I made a secret hatch, only recently though. Should have done it a long time ago. Would have saved me a lot less pain and hassle. Sliding a small circular hatch at the top of the tank open, I push the frozen rodent through the slit I made in the rubber barrier. I took my inspiration from a McDonalds plastic drink lid. When you push the straw through the middle, I thought about making a rubber one similar to it, so I could feed my snakes safely. That way if the snake decides to strike, they’ll be biting into rubber instead of my hand. On cue, he strikes out in a speed too quick for our eyes and attacks his food. Closing the hatch, I step back and let him be. He’ll be occupied for a while now anyways.
“What is this room?” Mason asks, inspecting every inch of the room but makes no move to step closer to the tanks.
“This is my snake pit. This is where I keep twenty of the world’s deadliest snakes. The ones I use for work.” I quietly say. I don’t want Keenan to know what I do for work. As I’ve said before, he’s too innocent to be in this world. I don’t know what I would do if something ever happened to him.
“This is so-” Before he could finish speaking my phone rang, and with Keenan already in the room with me, it could only mean one thing. Work.
I signal to Keenan to close the room up before I walk out to the kitchen where my phone lays on the bench. With Mason following behind me, I ignore his heated presence as I take the call.
“Yes?” I recognize the voice on the other side. A man I’ve worked with twice before.
“Number?” Jimmy ‘Big Jim’ Jones, almost always orders a five. He’s known to be very compassionate as opposed to Joe, who's a regular number one orderer. Jimmy will always try to keep them alive if they haven’t pissed him off or crossed him in a big way.
But this time he makes a request. No snakes. He wants the traditional torture technique, which I don’t mind. I just try not to get bloody every time because the cleanup is such a hassle but he’s willing to pay extra. Not that I need the money, I have so much, almost too much for this lifetime. But that’s what happens when you’re a very rare commodity.
“When?” Tonight, same place he replies. I don’t have any other jobs this week so I accept. Although it's probably been the best thing that could happen to my life, I’ve started feeling antsy from everything that’s happened with Mason. I need a good kill to calm my demons in me.
Hanging up, I walk to the couch and turn the TV on. Sitting down on the plush couch with Mason right beside me watching intently, I relax before I need to prepare everything I need for the night.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
MASON
Shortly after Lakes phone call I could see a change in her. Like she was recharging or winding up. She hung up and went to sit on her lounge. Once she turned the TV on, that’s when she completely shut off. Like she was in her own world. As I sat beside her, trying to gain her attention, Keenan called me over to him in the kitchen.
“She’s okay. Just let her be.” He looked so calm like this was an everyday thing. He seems more like her handler. He knows everything about her from her mood swings to her daydreaming.
“What is she doing?” I ask looking back at her. She’s facing the TV but her eyes seem unfocused and her brows slightly furrowed.
“She’s preparing. She does this after every phone call when she needs to work. I don’t fully know what it is that she does but what I do know is that she needs to be prepared or she likes to be.” So, she goes over her techniques? Is that why she asked Joe each time what number he wanted?
He explained the rules to me the first time he called her when he allowed me to be present. I’d never seen Joe so stern before. Like his life depended on me knowing these rules by heart. He explained the number system to me. One, meaning they die, two, basically dealer's choice. If she wants to kill them or not it’s up to her and three, alive. She’s very precise in her work, especially now that I can see just how prepared she is. I feel a bit embarrassed seeing how organized she is. It makes me feel messy.
✧✧✧
We spent the afternoon sitting by Lake on the couch. We ordered lunch which seemed to break her out of her spell for a little bit. She ate, spoke a little before going back into her own mind. It was around dinner time that she snapped out of it, fully this time. She simply looked at Keenan and he nodded before standing up.
“Time to go.” He said to me. I stood, unsure of what was happening. It seems like a routine move these two have down pat.
“But, Lake. I wanted to-” I ask when she stood. She looked at me like she’d never seen me before. She looked curious, tilting her head like a puppy would. After a minute she finally spoke, straightening back up.
“I have work, Mason. I need you to leave.” Like the gentleman I am, there was no way I was leaving my queen without a kiss and a future date.
“Okay, but first..” I say stalking towards her. I grab her by the waist and pull her against me roughly before slamming my lips down against hers. I don’t care if I’m being too rough right now. She needs to get one thing straight.
She’s mine.
I feel her pulling back but I’m not done yet. I grab the back of her head and hold her in place. I push forward, making her stumble backwards until she’s against the nearest wall. The rougher I am, the more turned on she gets. Her hands are desperately reaching for the bottom of my shirt. I pull back just enough to grab her hands in one of mine, swiftly pulling them above her head to pin them against the wall. Thanking the gods that she dropped her lunch on her jeans and changed into a short dress, my hand travels between her soft legs. Feeling her evident arousal only pushes on me more. To take what I want and from the sounds of her moans, she’s more than willing. Grabbing the thin thong she’s wearing, I tug hard, ripping the flimsy material in two before putting them in my jeans pocket, a little token of my hunt. She gasps, watching me man handle her underwear before putting them away in my pocket, her mouth gapes as I wink at her.
Seeing her swollen puffy lips, I dive back in. Attacking her mouth with mine. Tongues both battling for dominance, even though she won't win, it's cute that she still tries. I suck her bottom lip into my mouth as she rubs her chest against mine. My free hand reaches down between us, quickly unbuckling my belt before pulling my zipper down. Already hard as a rock, I pull my hardened length out, releasing a breath from the tight restriction it was in. Grabbing the back of her thigh, I pull her leg up hooking it around my waist. The other leg follows and soon I’m pushing into her hard and fast. Her moans turn into screams as I fuck her hard against the wall like this is the last time it will ever happen. My grip on her wrists are bruisingly tight but I couldn’t give a fuck right now. Just thinking about her leaving without my mark on her has me rutting harder, faster. Attacking her neck, I suck everywhere, leaving deep pink marks until I find that spot that has her pussy spasm.
“You’re. Mine.” I emphasize each word with a hard, deep thrust as I pull back from her neck. This pushes her over the edge. Her screams become ear shattering as her walls grip me so hard from her orgasm that min
e soon follows. Grunting out loud, I join her in a chorus of our cries.
Both panting I pull out and lower her down slowly, releasing her wrists as well. She looks up at me with her strikingly beautiful eyes and I can’t help but fall for them. Who wouldn’t? As if she’s having the same thoughts, she leans up on her toes kissing me softly. I lean down to deepen the kiss. I love how tiny she is. She may be small, but she holds the power to make grown men cry. Pulling back I rest my forehead against hers, about to ask a question I’ve never asked a girl before.
“Date me? Ugh! I mean go on a date with me?” I stutter. Fuck, why the hell am I so nervous?! She giggles before pulling back.
“Ty milyy. Okay.” She says smiling. I make a mental note to translate that. Fuck it, maybe I’ll just learn Russian.
With one last kiss goodbye, I leave my queen for the night. I hope she calls me soon. The whole drive home I thought about everything that's happened. I can’t believe I got the girl. Not in the Hollywood movie type of way but still. Maybe I should say I caught the girl? Ha, I wonder how Monty will react. I promised him that I’d get her and I did.
✧✧✧
Making it back to my apartment I open the door and see Monty in his usually spot on the couch with his new laptop propped up on his lap. Hearing the front door close, his head turns in my direction.
“Do you know how to answer your phone?” If he was standing, there would be a hundred percent chance his hand would be on his hip. Chuckling, I start to take my shirt off. I never wear shirts at home and I’m not stopping now.
“I was busy.” Yeah, busy fucking the girl of my dreams.
“What the fuck! Did you fight a cat or something?” I completely forgot Lake did in fact use me as a scratching post. I start laughing again, thinking about it and the look on Monty's face. He jumps up off the couch, quickly heading over to me and turns me around by the shoulder, inspecting my back. I know it’s bad, maybe even worse.
