by C. Hallman
"We could go see her." The impulsive words shock me as much as they do Monroe.
"Me and you?" She laughs softly. "I don't think so, Alaric."
I shrug, turning the car back on. "Suit yourself. But the only way you'll see her is with me in tow. If you don't want to, though, it's fine. Just thought I'd offer."
Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her trying to decide what to do. She chews her bottom lip, nervously glancing at me as I continue to drive.
"Visiting hours are over by now, anyway," she mutters. "It's too late to go there."
I smirk, turning the car around, already knowing I've got exactly what I wanted. And I guess I'm about to meet my fiancée's grandmother. I can only hope she accepts me and doesn't cause a scene. But something tells me Monroe's grandmother is somewhat like her granddaughter, and I'm going to like her.
Monroe stares at me as I wink and start driving to the nursing home, the address for which I looked up a few days ago.
"You know I like to break all the rules, sugar."
18
Alaric
Monroe is quiet for the rest of the drive to her grandmother's nursing home. I can tell she's nervous about me meeting her only relative, and I understand why. She's seen me do some fucked-up shit, and now she has to introduce me to the person who means most to her in the world. It might be a shit show... so I need to be on my best behavior.
We pull up in the posh driveway of the home. It's on a large piece of land with a large stone mansion covered in ivy. The grounds are well-maintained, and the seniors walking around are wearing big, pleased smiles. As Monroe and I get out of the car, one of their smiles grows bigger and bigger.
"Monroe!" An old lady waves us over enthusiastically. She's sitting by a pond with a friend who's already wheeling away. "Over here, honey!"
Monroe flies forward while I inspect her grandmother. The woman has a calm, quiet confidence to her I like. She seems like the quintessential grandmother I never had. The kind that may be vulnerable in body, but is a force to be reckoned with in any other way. I decide I like her on the spot.
Watching as Monroe hugs her tightly, I grin at the woman. "Hello, Mrs. Smythe. My name is Alaric."
"Alaric?" She nods, kissing her granddaughter's cheek and clinging to her hand as Monroe pulls away. "What an unusual name, and such an unusual man, too. You know, you're the first one she's brought over to see me."
"Gram!" Monroe flushes deeply, and I smirk, reveling in the fact that she didn't bring me over. I forced myself into Monroe's life, after all. And she fucking loves it.
"I expect nothing less of her. She's very picky," I smirk. "It took me quite a while to convince her I was a stand-up guy. Well... sometimes I wonder if I still haven't quite convinced her."
Mrs. Smythe laughs. "I know just how stubborn she can be. I did look after her until she was three years old."
I nod, ignoring Monroe's death glare in my direction. She wants me to stop asking all these prying questions and playing a game, but we have to, for her grandma's sake. I don't want to know how she'd react if she knew the truth...
"Gram, is everything going well here? They taking good care of you?" Monroe interrupts.
"For the most part." Her grandmother smiles. "There is one lady who I think is stealing my socks."
"Oh." I can tell Monroe is holding back a giggle. "Which one is it? I'll talk to her."
"The one with the pretty purple hair." Mrs. Smythe nods toward the entrance of the building where two nurses are watching the seniors. "Her name is Faye."
Monroe rushes in the direction of the nurse while her grandma turns to face me with a smug smile.
"Stealing socks, huh?" I tease her.
She winks and pulls up the leg of her trousers to reveal a pair of striped pink and white socks. "Count all my pairs every night. Not one missing so far."
"Sneaky." I chuckle. "You wanted to talk to me alone."
"Of course." She smiles back. "I need to find out if you're worthy of my granddaughter."
"Well, fire away," I respond. "Ask me anything you want."
"Well, all right. Say," she goes on, eyes glittering with mischief. "I couldn't help but notice... is that a red bracelet around your wrist?"
Sharply, my eyes find hers. "Indeed it is."
I can't say more than that. Can't risk her asking more questions—but this one alone has me sweating. How could she know the significance of the red ribbon tied around my wrist? Unless... unless she's part of it, too.
"Well, first of all, I think you should call me Ida." She grins before shakily pulling back her sleeve to reveal a green ribbon tied around it. "They make me wear it, even now."
I pale. "You work... for the Lombardis?"
"I did once upon a time." She nods gravely. "I helped with their accounting. I had to serve a sentence when Monroe was a toddler. That's why she was stuck with that awful stepfather of hers."
"I have heard some horrible stuff," I mutter. "I couldn't imagine why she wasn't living with you."
Ida nods. "I only got back a few years ago, and now I live here. And I know how much Monroe is paying for me to stay here, and I feel truly guilty."
I reach for her hand, trembling on the blanket covering her legs. "Don't, Ida. She loves you. And I'm helping her out now. She won't want for anything."
"No, she won't," she says somewhat sharply, sighing before she pulls her hand away from mine with surprising strength. "I tried my whole life to protect Monroe from that family. And now you've walked in, and you work for them, too. How am I supposed to believe Monroe won't be in danger because of you? She's been through so much."
"I would never let her get tangled up with them." I pull back but keep my eyes on Ida's. "Believe me. I'm doing all this to keep her safe."
"All this?" She narrows her eyes at me. "So you don't love her."
"I..."
"Are you marrying her?" she demands.
"Y-Yes, that's what we came to tell you," I manage to get out.
"Then you should love her. And I will not speak to you until you admit it to me." She raises her head high in the air and wheels away from me. I'm left stunned, but I still rush after her, getting in front of her wheelchair and stopping her.
"Ida—"
"Mrs. Smythe," she interrupts.
"No, no, you can't go back on that." I grin, and a reluctant smile pulls on the corner of her lips. "Ida it is. And look. Your granddaughter... she means a lot to me. Which is not an easy thing for me to say. You've seen the ribbon, and you know what it means, don't you?"
"Yes." She nods gravely. "The green one is for people who don't spill blood. The red one is for the ones who do."
"Then you know why mine is red, and what I've done to earn it. And I understand why you're afraid. But Ida, I won't let your granddaughter get caught up in it."
"Seems to me like you already have," she mutters, still not entirely happy with what I'm saying. "It's inevitable. And in this town, it was going to happen sooner rather than later."
"I will keep her safe," I insist. "And... with the way my feelings are developing, I may not be too far off from what you want."
Now, her eyes finally start to sparkle, just as Monroe returns.
"She said she wouldn't steal any more socks," she tells her grandmother with a triumphant smile. "And she said she's very, very sorry."
"Good. Now, when is the happy day?"
"You told her?" Monroe balks at me. "You were... you weren't supposed to do that!"
"I may be too old to be at your wedding, but I'm glad I know about it." The older lady smiles. "I hope you have a beautiful life together, Monroe. I just hope I get to see you still."
Tentatively, they both glance at me as if they know it's my decision and not my fiancée's.
"Of course you will see her," I say firmly. "I'll make sure of it, Ida."
The older woman nods gratefully and kisses Monroe's cheek. "I'll see you again soon then, honey."
"See you soon, Gram."
Monroe tightly embraces Ida, and we wave her off as we walk back to the car. She doesn't say a word as we get in and start driving back to my place. I let her process everything that's happened without interrupting. Once she has something to say, I'm sure she'll tell me.
And finally, Monroe turns to me as she says, "Thank you for letting me have that. Even if you didn't mean it when you said I could see her again... it meant a lot."
"Of course you'll see her again." I keep my eyes trained on the road. "I know you think I'm a monster, Monroe, but I will give you what you want sometimes."
"Only sometimes?"
I glance at her to see a smile playing on her lips. "Maybe more often if you're a good girl for me."
"How can I be a good girl for you?"
I stop the car on the side of the highway. Several vehicles blow their horns at me, but I ignore it, walking over to her side of the car and pulling Monroe off the passenger seat by her hair. She shrieks but doesn't fight me as I throw her over the hood of my car.
Monroe's eyes are wild as they follow me. I round the hood, watching her, knowing her heart is racing as she waits for what's about to happen. The moment I'm next to her again, I tear her blouse off. She shrieks again, trying to cover up her chest as her panicked eyes watch the passing cars.
"Are you crazy?" she demands, panicking.
"Yes." I nod. "And you fucking love it."
I flatten her back against the hood of the car and spread her legs. I make quick work of getting rid of her panties as horns blare at us from passing cars. But there's no way for someone else to stop here. No one's going to bother us.
By now, Monroe's moaning. I part her legs and bury my mouth between them, sucking and drinking from her dripping pussy like it's a tap.
"Alaric, stop it!" she hisses through gritted teeth.
"Your pussy doesn't want me to stop," I hiss against her wet lips. "Your pussy wants to come."
She groans, but at the next moment, her body twists in pure pleasure as my mouth returns to her center. I suck on her sensitive clit until she's banging her little fists against the hood of the car. She wants this. She's desperate for it. She's not even denying it anymore.
"Come on my tongue," I demand. "I want to feel you letting go in front of all these cars, all the people watching. Fucking give in, Monroe."
"No!" She twists and turns beneath me, but I don't let her get away. And then my tongue hits a spot that's like a switch. Her body stops flailing, and she arches her hips into my mouth. I smirk against her skin, licking at her center until she's whimpering for help that isn't going to come.
"You love it," I grunt. "You love everyone watching us. You loved it with the Lombardis too, didn't you?"
"N-No."
Her telltale stutter is a tell, and she knows it, flushing deeply as I continue licking orgasm after orgasm out of her body. She's crying, whimpering, and mewling like a kitten as I tire her body out. At first, she still twists and turns after each one, but I can tell she's wrung out when she just lies back and moans my name over and over again.
The cacophony of the horns blaring melts into nothing as I pick Monroe up and place her back in the car. I put her seat belt on and cover her with my jacket while I drive us home. She's so far gone she keeps falling asleep on me. I should feel guilty about what I did to her, but I fucking don't. I loved every second of it.
And I know my sugar did, too, even though it will take her a while to admit it.
Once we get home, I carry her to bed and get in beside her, telling myself it's just so I can make sure she's not going to try to run or do something equally stupid.
But as I lie in bed next to Monroe, I find my thoughts circling back to what Ida said.
That I shouldn't marry her unless I love her.
On some level, I agree with her. I always thought if a woman could force me into getting married, she'd have to mean a lot to me. Perhaps even enough for the l-word. So why am I not fighting this marriage with Monroe harder? It was my idea in the first place.
Maybe, deep down, I've already accepted my feelings for Monroe.
But I'll be damned before I admit them out loud.
19
Monroe
Yesterday, I felt like my life was a nightmare. Today, it’s still a dream but not a bad one anymore. Alaric showed me a new side of him today, one I didn’t think could possibly exist. He’s trying to take care of Grams and me. I’m still having a hard time trusting that he doesn't have ulterior motives, but I can’t think of any reason he would have to coerce me into doing anything.
He’s proven time and time again that he has the means and the lack of morals to take what he wants. He doesn't have to care, yet he does. He went out of his way to make sure my grams is comfortable and her housing is paid for. That’s all I ever wanted.
“Thank you for doing this. Paying for my grandma’s place.”
“That was the deal, wasn’t it? You do what I want. I give you money.”
“Yeah, but I feel like it’s more than that now. I mean, I hope so at least since you are adamant about marrying me tomorrow.”
“Yes, it’s more than that now, but I need you to understand that I still have needs. I still crave things you are not going to like.”
“I know, but as long as you take care of my grams, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. If you want to drug me again, I’m okay with it. I just… I don’t want someone else to touch me.”
“You know I would cut someone's hand off for touching you.”
The image of Alaris cutting off that man’s hand the other night pops into my head. For normal people, that would sound like an idle threat, but I know Alaric is dead serious.
“You let other people watch,” I whisper, regretting that I said it at all immediately.
“Watching and touching are two different things… Besides, it was that or you killing someone for the family.”
“I could never kill someone.”
“I know,” Alaric says, just as he pulls into his garage. I was so lost in the conversation I didn't even realize we were here. He cuts off the engine, and we both get out of the car.
“Do you want to do it tonight?” I ask when we are inside the house.
“Maybe I already put something in your tea earlier.” Alaric smirks.
“Did you?” A mixture of fear and excitement builds in my lower abdomen.
“No. But I have been thinking about it,” he admits. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about trying something new.”
“New? Like what?”
A sinister smile spreads across Alaric’s face, and like the predator he is, he stalks around me. I’m a deer caught in the headlights, frozen in place, while Alaric moves behind me to help me out of my jacket. The small hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and my entire body is on high alert, warning me of the imminent danger. Yet I’m still just standing here like an idiot.
Alaric steps closer until his chest is pressing up against my back, and I can feel his hard cock rubbing against my ass. He swipes my hair away from my shoulder, exposing my neck and letting me feel his minty breath on my cheek when he talks.
“You know I like the part when you don’t know when it’s coming. I love controlling that, controlling when and how… controlling you.”
I’m still trying to digest what he is saying when I feel it. The sharp prick of a needle entering my neck. I suck in a quick breath as the pain cuts through me, then quickly dissipates. Before I can even think about fighting or running away, my legs give out, and my body is held up by a thick arm around my middle.
“Www…” I start, but my tongue stops working halfway through the word. My whole body simply gives out, and I’m picked up off the ground and carried through the house.
I’m waiting for my mind to go as well, for the darkness to drag me under, but my mind stays awake and alert. What the hell? I start to panic, pushing my limbs to move, working my lungs up for a scream, but nothing happens. It’s almost like I’m… paralyzed.
Alaric carries me to the bedroom, gently puts me down on the bed, and props the pillow under my head so I’m comfortable and can see him. Sitting down next to me, he starts unbuttoning his shirt.
“I gave you a special kind of sedative. It paralyzes your body without making you go to sleep or numbing you up. You’ll be awake, and you’ll be able to feel. You just won’t be able to move or talk,” he explains while undressing himself slowly. “It will only last for about an hour.”
A tiny bit of panic recedes. At least I know the drug is working the way it’s supposed to, and I won’t be paralyzed forever.
“I want you to see and feel what I do to you when you’re asleep. I thought about taking a video, but that wouldn't be the same. I’ve used this drug before, so I know this would be perfect.”
He’s used this drug before? He’s done this to someone else? Unwanted jealousy weasels its way up my spine, and I hate that I feel this way at all. What a fucked-up thing to be jealous about.
“I haven't used this drug for sex before if that’s what you are thinking,” he says as if he was reading my mind. “I’ve used it to kill someone slowly and painfully. Someone who didn't deserve a quick death.”
Alaric stands to step out of his pants and underwear before he turns and undresses me. He touches me like I’m made of glass, gentle and careful. When I’m completely naked as well, he spreads my legs apart and moves between them on the bed.
“Do you see how hard you make me? Fuck, my balls hurt thinking about being inside you. This is what you do to me, Monroe. All I think about all day is being inside your tight cunt. I’ve never wanted anyone so bad, only you.”
He starts stroking his cock, and I’m both terrified and curious about what he will do to me. He reaches for something beside him, but I can’t turn my head to see what it is. I hear something being opened, like a bottle cap maybe. A moment later, I realize he is squirting something in his hands, then he rubs it over his dick.
