A Little Taste of Naughty (A Shattered Lives Short) (6 page)

“’Bye, Li—Henry,” she choked out as she let go of him. She held her hands over her mouth. He got into the cab and put his head into his hands. He knew she was in trouble. The guilt had already crept into his tainted mind. It would haunt him forever.

“Where you off to?” the cabbie asked.

“Airport.”

“Leaving your lady friend?” Henry looked up at him.

“You could say that,” he mumbled. The cabbie turned around and pulled away. Henry rested his head back and shut his eyes for a moment, trying to hold back his emotions.

Roger was correct. He did have a bleeding heart.

-October 2012-

That fateful day was like every other day for Henry. He found a place to hang out and observe the people around him. Some days it was the coffee shop; others, the bar. Sometimes he would watch people at the gym; at other times, he would peruse the aisles of stores, pretending to be interested in what they were selling.

He was still looking for more physically and mentally strong individuals to recruit for the task that he had been given. His instructions were to form alliances. That way, he would have people to fight alongside him when everything unfolded. He still had so much more planning to do.

He felt that he had befriended quite a few people who would fit the role. There were several men from the gym that qualified, a couple from his place of employment at the blood bank, and a few more at the bar he frequented more than he would care to admit. But he needed more people if he wanted a fair shot. Plus, he wanted some females in his little army, as well.

Henry walked into a locally owned bookshop in his neighborhood that he had seen during his usual stalking sessions. The shop was quite popular in the area so he felt he may find someone worthy in there. He usually hit up the big chain further into the city to buy his reading material, but he thought he would try the smaller shop for a change.

How ironic,
he thought. He was hanging out in a bookshop when he didn’t have much more than an eighth grade education. He was street smart, and could rock a businessman persona with ease and believability.

In his off time, when he wasn’t working out, stalking innocent people, or at the firing range keeping himself fresh, he would read educational material until the words blurred together. He felt like he was doing a halfway decent job of educating himself. There was no purpose behind it except that it was something he wanted to do for himself. Everything else that he did was for the program; educating himself was just for him.

He walked up and down the compact, book-laden aisles, not really seeing what was on the shelves. A woman, who he pegged to be in her late forties, came around the end cap and approached him. “Good morning!” Her tone had an air of insincerity. Plus, she was ridiculously cheerful for nine a.m., considering the night he had. The whiskey had flowed more free than usual the night before. He wasn’t sure if he had it in him to throw out a bogus jovial impression.

“Morning.” Henry returned the smile, but it was much less sincere than hers. He had on a black Nike ball cap, pulled down tight over his eyes. He didn’t want to be remembered for his chemical-laden emerald green eyes.

He always wore nondescript clothing, as well. They were all designer, but only ever in a palette of navy, white, gray, or black. He looked fit in any clothing he wore. His charcoal gray hoodie was near taut over his broad shoulders and chest. He worked hard to stay in shape, and worked daily to add on more muscle at the gym. So far, he was rather successful and quite proud of everything below his neck. Above it? That was an entirely different story.

Henry’s dark brown beard had grown into more than a five o’clock shadow. Between the hat and the beard, he felt he was hidden enough.

“Is there anything I can help you find?” Her fake chipper voice was chapping his ass. Normally, he would have said that he was all set, but her insincerity made him want to fuck with her just a tiny bit.

“Hmmm…” He tapped his forefinger on his lips. “You know, I am looking for something for my girlfriend’s birthday today. She is thinking about jumping on the bandwagon of vampire and zombie romances, and post-apocalyptical dystopian-style reads. I thought I would pick her up a couple so she could decide what she would like.” He hoped that sounded convincing.

Henry hadn’t had a real girlfriend in a while, not since he left England. For the most part, he would partake in one-night stands, or a quickie in the back room of the bar he frequented. Although he did date one clingy psycho for about a month, he got out of that as soon as she started asking too many questions.

“Right,” she said. The great toothy grin and irritated tone in her voice spoke volumes. “Well, there are several selections that I can show you. Follow me.” She turned around, and he smirked about the zombie romance. It was a nice private joke.

The sales associate, or possibly the owner, showed him a selection of books. He claimed that he couldn’t decide so he would purchase all of them. What did he care, considering that it wasn’t his dime? She pointed out the cash register, and he headed in that direction at a slow pace. He paused at the art history section and thumbed through a few books. He was truly interested because it was one subject that he hadn’t dove into yet. He decided to grab one of those, as well.

Two female voices caught his attention. He looked down the aisle toward the register. There were two younger women standing there, chatting. One was a sleek, black-haired woman, who Henry pegged at maybe twenty-one. The other was a ginger-haired, pale, innocent-looking woman. He figured they were approximately the same age since they seemed tight.

The black-haired beauty was leaning over the counter, which gave him the perfect view of her profile. She had the meaty ass that Henry loved so much. He pictured himself grabbing onto it while fucking her against the wall. He shook his head.
Back to work,
he thought.

Henry continued his slow progression down the aisle, pretending to look at more books, while he tuned into their conversation.

“I left the bar because this douchebag was hitting on me. I get twenty feet away and I realized he was following me down the street!”

“You went out alone?! Are you insane?!” The ginger-haired woman screeched.

“Well, that wasn’t my original intention. I was supposed to meet my brother to have a couple beers and discuss my parent’s party, but you know how he is. The next notch on his bedpost called and he ditched his sweet sister.” Henry smirked, while flipping through a book. He liked her tone…sarcastic and quite funny.

“So what happened?” The ginger sounded annoyed.

“So, this douchebag was heavy footing it behind me. I turned around and waited until he was close enough for me to kick him in the tomatoes and knee him in the face.” He was impressed that she wasn’t the type to scream and run away. She faced shit head-on. Brilliant.

“Holy moly! You are so lucky that you didn’t get hurt, or worse! That was beyond foolish.” The ginger crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“When you have guns like these,” she kissed her biceps, “and when you have this kind of attitude…” She put her hands on her hips and smiled.

“Elaina, you have
got
to be more careful. There are all sorts of crazy people out there! You never know who or what you will run in to!”

Henry knew the ginger wouldn’t be right for his purposes. She was too worrisome and mother hen-like. He needed someone who was carefree and who did a little less thinking before they acted. Someone like that black-haired beauty.

God, he wanted to take her over that counter.

“It’s fine.” She swatted her hand toward the ginger.

“What happens if he sees you again?” Henry had a sudden urge to filet the cock-face with his favorite long-bladed hunting knife.

“Meh…” The ginger sighed at her reaction. “You worry far too much, Claire.” He smiled. Could she be any more perfect?

“Anyway.” The ginger looked at her watch. “I have to pick up Marc. He needs to drop his car off at the shop for something or other.”

“All right. Laters, hooker.”

The ginger turned around with a quirked brow. “Anyway…” She sighed, adding a heavy eye roll. “You be careful!” The ginger pointed at the black-haired beauty in an aggressive manner.

“Okay, Mom!” she shouted as the ginger scoffed and left the store.

Henry put the book he had pretended to be interested in back on the shelf and started to walk closer to the register. The closer he got to her, the more he was taken by her raw beauty. He scanned the rest of her body with a few quick glances when she turned and faced the other direction. She seemed fit, and he felt an ache deep within. He wanted to touch her face and feel how soft her skin was under his icy cold hands.

He approached the counter with caution, still scanning the store. She turned around and she took his breath away. “Jesus Christ…” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry?” He jumped a little when she spoke. Her voice was sexy, raw, and raspy.

“Nothing. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and set the stack of books on the counter.

“You ready to check out?” She gently smiled at him. Holy fuck, she had a beautiful smile. It made his heart race.

“Uh, yeah. Please.” She grabbed the stack of books and took a peek at what he had.

“Buying for your girlfriend?” She smirked with a raised brow.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, for her birthday.” Henry took a deep breath to try to calm himself down. “I don’t get her desire to read that stuff.” The black-haired beauty nodded.

“This one for you?” she asked as she scanned the art history book.

“Yeah. Always had an interest in it.”

Once again, she flashed him a gentle smile. “I love art history.”

“You’re not flirting with the customers again, are you?” They both jumped. A middle-aged woman scowled as she scooted behind the counter.

“What? No! Geez!” She was angered by the comment. Henry slyly smirked as he pulled the cash out of his wallet, instead of pulling out his fancy black credit card. He didn’t want her to see his name since he was trying to keep a low profile. She gave him his change, handed him the receipt, and he left the store without another glance.

She was on top of his list, for more reasons than one. All that was left to do was to watch her from afar to figure out the right time to introduce himself. Henry walked around the block, hopped in his company-issue blacked-out Chevrolet Tahoe, and headed off to work.

“Morning, bossman,” Jennifer said in her usual singsong voice as he walked in the doors.

“Jennifer.” Henry nodded at his receptionist as he walked by. “Any calls?”

“We need to set up a transfer to St. Francis. They are getting low on ‘O’ and ‘A’.”

“Alright. Thanks.” Henry marched into his office.

Once he stepped into his office, he closed the door and locked it. He hung his hat on one hook on the back of the door, then peeled off his hoodie, placing it on the other hook. Everything was is in its proper place.

Henry’s office was the typical bright white office. He found it obnoxious on those mornings when he knew he should have left the bar hours and several drinks before he had.

The furniture was all light gray, streamlined, and neat as a pin. For once in his life, he would love to be able to have a book or a piece of paper out of place. But, because of his training, it was nearly impossible to allow himself to do that.

He rolled his neck, realizing that he needed his fix.

Henry was the only one with the combination to the lock on his mini-fridge. His employees were clueless as to what it held. They just thought he was paranoid that someone would take his drinks or food.

He turned the dial with precision and opened the fridge. He shuddered, knowing what he was about to do. Then he unlocked his bottom desk drawer and pulled out the near empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label. His eyes glanced over at the cool piece of steel that laid beside it.

“Fuck me,” he grumbled. He had forgotten to grab another bottle before he left his place that morning. He popped the tops off the vials and tipped them back. In one swift move, he opened the bottle of alcohol and drained what was left. Nothing like a lifeline with a whiskey chaser.

Henry sat back in his chair for a moment, waiting for his muscles and joints to free up. He took a few deep breaths. Suddenly, erotic thoughts drove hard through his tainted brain, the black-haired beauty at the bookshop being the star. He closed his eyes, envisioning mounting her, grabbing her ass, and letting go. He wanted to make her come around him, over and over again. He wanted to hear her scream out his name. He felt a stirring in his body.

“Shit.” His jeans tightened, causing him discomfort. He got up and adjusted himself. “Fuck.” He knew his hard-on wasn’t going to go away so he went to his bathroom. He decided to relieve himself and just be done with it.

Henry closed and locked the bathroom door. Two locked doors were better than one. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, and he felt better with a little freedom. He began the annoying process. Stroking slow, but firm, grasping tight on the tip for an extra burst of pleasure. God, what he wouldn’t give to be fucking that girl right in that moment. He looked down at his veiny, rigid self.