Wren rubbed her hand over the girl’s back and didn’t say anything. We just let her weep.
The door clicked open a few minutes later and Haden stepped in. She jerked her head at Paige. “Go on, go. Don’t give out any more information on this girl. Or any of the fosters without talking to the adults first. Got it?”
I saw her nod and slip out the door.
Haden leaned against the wall. “Doctor Warner, you have a temper.”
I couldn’t stop my laugh, and Haden grinned. Wren looked up, blinked a few times and offered both of us her middle finger.
Haden tossed a chin at Ellie, and raised an eyebrow.
“Ellie? Doll, you okay?”
She shook her head no. “I’ve been trying to be strong, but it’s too much. I can’t keep pretending I am.”
“You don’t have to pretend you’re strong all the time, Ellie,” Wren said quietly. “You either are or you aren’t. And you don’t have to hide when you aren’t. That’s why we’re here. It’s why we have custody of you. We’re here to help you, to make sure you have the chance to recover, and recovery has a lot of ups and downs.”
She looked up from my shirt and directly at Wren. “Did they really write…that on the carpet?”
Wren hesitated, but nodded. “Do you want to see it?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Ellie’s voice.
Her phone was on the table, and Wren swiped the lock screen off. The image was right there since she hadn’t shut down the gallery app.
The beautiful blue and cream rug was stained with the horrible words that someone had slathered in blood. Ellie’s breath hitched, and she choked back a few sobs. But she didn’t move, and she didn’t freak out.
“According to the ME,” Haden said, unfolding her arms and walking over, “it’s bovine blood. Someone went to a slaughterhouse and got it. Everything that had it on it tested for only bovine.”
“So no one was hurt? No one hurt someone’s pets?” Ellie’s big eyes were still luminous with tears.
“No one was hurt,” Haden said.
That seemed to relax her a lot. “What now though?”
The room stayed silent for a moment and Ellie looked at the three of us. She let out a defeated huff.
”We can’t touch these people?” she asked.
Haden shook her head.
A little sob escaped and she looked down at her shoes. “And now we can’t go back to that house. I was going to start school on Monday…”
Lifting her chin with my finger, I smiled at her. “You and Wren are coming to stay with me in Chestnut Hill. I have my house there, and there’s plenty of room. Paige won’t be told where you are so she won’t be able to tell anyone. We’re going to put you in a private school, and we’re going to replace everything you lost today.”
“But we just bought it all yesterday. It was thousands of dollars…” She hiccupped.
I leaned down and stage whispered in her ear, “I’m rich. I don’t care how much it takes to replace everything.”
Ellie’s one eyebrow raised, and she glanced at Wren. “You’re rich?”
“Yes.” I laughed.
She laughed and turned to Wren. “You got yourself a sugar daddy!”
My house was not understated. Not at all.
Being one of the best surgeons had its benefits, and money was one of those. I’d bought the 1908 Tutor manor two years before and restored the whole thing to as much original interior as I could while still keeping my modern necessities.
We pulled in all the bags from Wren’s car and let Ellie pick out her bedroom of the seven empty ones I had in the house. She picked one far from the stairs and opposite our master suite.
Wren had pulled the clip out of her gun and looked like she was ready to put it back in the car. I shook my head and after hesitating only a moment, she put the clip back in and put the gun back in her waistband.
I wanted that gun nearby. I only had a rifle in the house, and that wasn’t helpful for keeping her and Ellie feeling safe.
One of the nicest things about my house was the security system. Walking in the front door with Wren and Ellie, I knew they needed that alarm there. It was better than the gun, but they needed both right now.
I showed them both how it worked, and then Ellie had seen the house.
“Holy shit, you are rich…” She walked through the foyer with her mouth open.
Wren laughed. “You know, I don’t need a sugar daddy, but this…this isn’t bad at all.”
Ellie turned and looked at her. “You don’t?”
“Doll, she’s just a wealthy as I am.” I grinned.
The young woman sauntered over and wrapped us both in a hug. “Mom, Dad, I’m home.”
Ellie started laughing again. “Oh, my God, you guys. It’s been so damn long since I was able to laugh like this. It feels amazing.”
Wren took the girl into her arms and gave her a tight hug. “I’m glad to hear that from you, Ellie. I really am. Nothing about these past few weeks has been easy for you and I’ve been worried.”
Wrapping her arms around Wren, she returned the hug and they clung to each other. I grabbed the menu out of the cabinet where I kept all the menus, and spread it out on the island there.
“You were…uh…you were pretty bad ass with that gun this afternoon,” Ellie said. “And with Mrs. Domingues. I thought she was going to end up in about eight pieces.”
“Truth? I was ready to tear her into about eight pieces, starting with offering a new asshole.”
We all collapsed in a fit of laughter, and I dragged the two of them into the kitchen. It had been way too long of a day and we needed food and beverage.
“What do you want to eat?” Wren asked, opening the fridge. She’d been here a few times, and I was glad she had—she felt comfortable here and I didn’t need the two of them wound tighter than a drum. One was enough.
“I don’t know? What do rich people eat?”
We glanced at each other and chorused, “Chinese.”
Fischer
…three weeks later…
Opening the door to the bathroom, I saw the tableau of her naked back, shoulders to toes in the shower stall. The water from the rainfall shower head cascaded down her soft skin and I was instantly and impossibly hard.
Quickly removing my socks and watch, I walked straight into the falling water and trailed my hands over her waist, up her sides to caress her breasts.
Wren leaned her head back into the crook of my shoulder.
“You’re still dressed.”
“Don’t care. You need me.”
She started sobbing, and I just held her against me.
I didn’t know how I knew she needed me, but halfway through a check up with a patient, her sadness and fear ripped through me. I had finished with the patient, and had Laxmi cover the rest of the day.
“What’s wrong, little bird?”
She sobbed, her body shaking. “He’s dead.”
A rip of shock went through me—but it wasn’t what she thought at all. “When?”
“They found him two days ago. The coroner has ruled it heart failure. Just plain old heart failure.”
I had no idea if she could feel the tension in my body release. “That’s good, right?”
She nodded. “I was just so overwhelmed to hear he was dead. Just dead. After all the fear and vigilance and uncertainty, I was just overwhelmed by Haden’s call. She knew yesterday morning but couldn’t say anything until the FBI confirmed everything.”
I kissed the base of her throat, and I could feel her calming down. It was still amazing to me how much we were in tune with each other. I just ran my hands over her body, time and again until I could really feel her starting to calm down.
I knew she was doing better when Wren reached for the buckle on my pants. She was very deft at getting them unfastened from her angle, and she had my dick in her hands in a moment.
“Just fuck me, Fischer,” she breathed.
&n
bsp; When my hand trailed up her body this time, I grabbed her hands and pressed them against the wall of the shower. At the same time, my feet nudged her legs apart and I brought my hands down to her ass and slapped her hard.
“Shit!” she gasped and trembled, this time in delight.
Trailing my hand down her crease, I dusted over the dark entrance there, and whispered, “Someday.”
She turned and looked at me over her shoulder. “Someday,” she agreed.
My hand hadn’t stopped, and I found her entrance. Dipping a finger into her, she was wet, but I needed her even wetter. I dropped to my knees, and buried my face deep in her pussy, licking and sucking and pleasuring her. I didn’t use anything but my lips and tongue, but I still had her squirming back against me, quietly begging for relief.
“Get inside me, Fischer. Please, please. I need to feel you in there.”
I didn’t move until I was satisfied by how wet and ready she was, which wasn’t very long. Trailing my fingers up her ass, and her back, I stood and merely pushed my pants out of my way, down my ass a bit.
“Ready?”
“Please, please,” she hissed.
I moved into her slowly savoring every inch and every moan I captured from her. She was panting and I had to grab her hips so she wouldn’t spike herself back onto me. I was in control, and she needed that.
I was in more control than I ever had been in my life. This woman gave me purpose and direction and it was everything I had ever needed. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Pressing forward, I finally filled her as far as I could, and popped my hips. She pulled in a sharp breath and let out a whisper of my name. I could listen to that all my life.
I moved out of her, and then carefully possessed her again. I kept the pace unhurried, enjoying each and every tug and pull of my shaft in her channel. Her back moved, a soft undulation in time with the press and pull of my cock inside her.
God, she was beautiful. Every part of her was so beautiful, I wanted to keep her in this house always, never let her out. But that was wrong.
And I had a terrible stain on my soul now.
I sped my thrusts up a little bit, and reached around to dust over her clit. I wanted to hear her coming soon. I leaned forward and put my hand on the shower wall next to her, inhaling her pure scent.
Because I was about to ruin that purity.
“Wren...” I breathed.
“Fischer...”
“I have to show you something...”
“Mmm...”
My hand left the wall, and I wrapped it around her throat, touching each of her pulse points softly, and I opened my mind.
...The room was dark the first time. There had been no one around, and it had been insanely easy to get into the penthouse.
The view from here of the Cira Center was perfect. There was nothing not perfect about this place, except I could see the black stain of evil on everything in the room, in the whole penthouse. The stench of cruelty and foul sex, the pain of disrespect for the human condition.
All of this was new, but for some reason it was right. It seemed the natural progression of my visions into something far more than just the glimpse of things that had been or things that could be.
I crept through the darkness, to where the machine rested on the nightstand in the bedroom. The cruelty in here seemed to glow on the surfaces. The sins this man had committed were made of different colors, and they coated the surfaces. The floors. The windows, the bed, the sheets.
The machine was quiet right now, since the intended patient was here. It was going to be easy to find a way to make the machine stop working, and once that was found and the machine malfunctioned, I quickly and quietly left the room and the apartment...
...The room was lit by soft white lights the next time. It was still dark out, but this time, there were people in the penthouse. Servants, cooks, others whose purpose was now clear to me, but not to the others who merely kept the house for the bastard in the bedroom.
I was directed, without words, to that bedroom. The wretched smell of misery and sin nearly choked me, and while the man sitting on the end of the bed looked to be normal, it was as if I had suddenly developed the ability to see him as though he were the Picture of Dorian Gray: pock-marked, scared, covered in boils and puss, cuts and scabs, holes in his skin. Covered in the colors of his unbalanced sins, he flickered in and out of his hideous visage.
“You’re the tech?”
No hello, no polite welcome.
“Yes.”
“Good. Make it work or replace it.”
I nodded and walked to the nightstand. The little machine was blinking an orange light. I pulled on a pair of latex gloves and got to work making a show of a repair for a problem I had caused and knew exactly how to fix.
“I have to take this in to the bathroom. I need just a little more light.”
He held up a hand, and motioned to someone in the corner of the room. The man hurried into the bathroom and pulled a younger girl in a night gown out of the room. She couldn’t have been twelve.
“My daughter. She takes too long in the bathroom.”
Such a fucking liar. I saw the fear and pleas in her eyes.
She’d be free soon enough.
I put the machine on the counter and lifted up the top. I rinsed out the water tank. I tinkered a bit, reconnecting the wire to the machine to make sure it worked. I reached into the toolbox I had there pulled the two vials of succinylcholine I had gotten out of the cold pack. Shaking them well, I dumped the two of them completely into the water tank and slid it back in.
I closed everything up and put the two vials back in the toolbox. I locked everything down, and flipped the switch to make sure that it worked.
It did.
Shutting it down, I brought everything back out and placed it back on the nightstand. “That should do it, sir. I’m terribly sorry you had that happen.”
“You should fix the model,” he snapped.
“Well, everything is good to go now. I also cleaned and replaced your water with some fresh distilled, so you’ll be good for tonight.”
“Damn straight.” He looked over my shoulder. “Jake, show the man out.”
Jake didn’t say a thing except to point to the door. I nodded at Scott Woodall and to Jake as he showed me out. I rode the elevator down...
...The room was dark again. It was insanely easy to get in and out of this place. How someone so evil, who ran a sex trafficking ring, could not put real security on the door was beyond me.
I headed straight for the bedroom, where I could hear the whimpers of the little girl that I had seen earlier. She was chained by her ankle to the chair. I remember Elutheria said he always used her in the early morning hours, which meant this girl had not been brutalized yet.
Tonight.
I walked to her and put a finger to my lips.
My skin was almost luminously blue as I uncuffed her and untied her.
“Are you an angel?” she whispered fiercely.
“No, I’m...sin.”
She cocked her head, and seemed to accept my answer.
I turned her around to see the man in the bed. “He’s going to die soon. I will not make you stay.”
“I want to see him die. Will it be painful?”
“If he wakes, yes.”
“Do you think he will?”
I put my hands on her shoulders, and stood watching his chest rise and fall. “I can only hope.”
She took a deep breath. “I can, too.”
The room was quiet save the whirr of his CPAP, and I watched the colors of his evil washing over and over him. I didn’t know how long the girl and I stood there—an hour? Maybe, or maybe fifteen minutes. It was impossible to know.
His eyes flew open and his body jacked knifed up off the bed.
Clawing at the sheet, he realized he couldn’t breathe. His lungs weren’t working, his diaphragm woul
dn’t contract to pull the air in or out. And slowly, his heart slowed in his chest.
Perfect.
It would take him exactly seven minutes to die from lack of air. He went gurgling and gargling and knowing there was no way to call for help or escape this fate.
At six minutes, he thrashed like a dying fish, I walked the two of us to the side of his bed and his eye lit on us standing there. He couldn’t even grab at his throat, his eyes were desperately trying to close.
I leaned in close. “Goodnight, you piece of shit. The minions of Hell will welcome you with open arms.”
He died a minute later.
Using a tissue from the nightstand, I turned the machine off, and took the water tank to the bathroom and rinsed out the drug. I filled it back up with the distilled water I had in my pocket, and put it all back in the machine, and flipped it back on.
“He’s dead?” the girl asked.
“He’s dead.”
“He’ll never hurt another girl.”
“No, sweetie, he won’t.”
“Can I spit on him?”
I told her the rest of my plan, and she was keen to go along with it...
“Fuck!” Wren flew apart in my arms, her orgasm cascading through her. Her channel grabbed me tight and I flooded her walls with my hot cum.
Wren
I lay face down on the bed, recovering the incredible sex Fischer and I had been having for nearly three hours.
He’d purposefully given me his memories while he’d fucked me against the wall.
The memory that he had killed Scott Woodall.
It was a memory I was glad to have.
“You really did that.”
“I had to, little bird. You understand?”
“Of course, I understand, Fischer. What...changed?”
He kissed down the back of my neck. “Not caring, something not being my problem is just another word for sloth. It’s not as simple as being lazy...it’s being completely disengaged from life. Which is what I was until you, little bird. The balance is learning how to care, and how to make something your problem without getting overwhelmed by everything that’s wrong with the world.”
Sleeper Page 17
