Ahead of the Darkness (22 page)

“Oh, aye.”

Drew walked around me and paused, looking a little sheepish.

“The other wasn't big enough.”

“Big enough for ... oh.”
Aw ...

I looked at the couch, picturing the last time I was here and how we struggled to fit, ending up on the floor for round two, and three. A small smile played at my lips when Drew gently lifted my chin up towards him and planted a soft, delicate kiss on my lips. He was being uncharacteristically sweet.

“No, don’t distract me.” I pushed at his laughing chest.

“Aye, aye, I’m getting. Find us a movie.” He pointed to the TV unit and headed off to his bedroom.

I sat down in front of the TV, rummaging through the drawers full of DVDs and video games, laughing quietly to myself at the occasional mutterings coming from the bedroom. I smiled when I came across
Braveheart
, and had pulled it out when Drew cleared his throat. I spun around on my bum to possibly the sexiest sight I had ever seen. Drew stood in front of me in nothing but a navy-blue and green kilt. I bit my lip as my eyes hungrily took all of him in. I finally lifted my eyes to Drew’s face. He seemed slightly amused by my reaction.

“Ye like?”

I nodded, short and sharply. I very much liked, and his smile said he knew as much. He reached out his hand to me, pulling me up from my spot on the floor. As soon as I was steady on my feet, he spun me around and out, making me laugh.

“How do you know how to dance so well?”

“Aye, another one of my grandfather’s daft notions.”

He spun me back in, letting go of my hand to rest his around my waist. Mine went to the hard planes of his chest. I got lost in the feeling of Drew’s soft skin beneath my fingertips and began to run my fingers along his body, tracing circles around his nipples. I followed along the curves of his pecks and slowly down along his ribs. I smiled as Drew visibly shivered under my touch.

My fingertips continued, lingering over each ridge of his six-pack and along the deep cut lines of the sexy V that disappeared under the kilt. I bit my lip in contemplation.

“Have ye ever wondered what a true Scotsman wears under his kilt?” Drew sounded breathy as he asked my unspoken question.

I gradually lifted my eyes from his snail trail where my fingertips were teasing up to Drew’s smouldering gaze, and slowly shook my head.

“Not before now.”

I slowly slid my hand down. Drew closed his eyes with a sharp intake of breath as I answered the question.
Nothing.
My pulse quickened at the feeling of Drew going from semi- to fully-erect in my hand, almost instantly. I loved that I affected him so easily; from just running my fingers over his chest I’d turned him on.

Drew didn’t even have to touch me, he just had to give me a look, even from across a room, and I could be putty in his hands if I let him. It was the same look he gave me when he opened his eyes. The desire burned into me, setting my body alight. He gripped my arse tight, almost lifting me off the ground.

“D ... dessert?”

He struggled to get the word out as I stroked him hard one last time, and brought my finger up to my mouth to suck the pre cum. I nodded in agreement, Drew’s grip on my arse became almost painfully tight as he lifted me off my feet, my legs and arms wrapping around him.

“That ...”

He shook his head slightly before he kissed me senseless, somehow managing to walk us to his bedroom and collapse in the middle of his bed.

He took his time undressing me for once and I couldn’t help my internal smile at the thought of having gotten him a little too worked up. He slid off the bed, leaving me in the middle and stood back, looking at me appreciatively. For once, the need to hide didn’t seem to exist.

“You like?”

He scoffed and smiled at me, his hands going to the buckles on the kilt.

“You could ... leave it on.”

I bit my lip to stifle my laugh at Drew’s perplexed expression, and couldn’t help but tease him just a little more. It was too irresistible. I slowly ran a hand over one of my breasts and down my abdomen, my inhibitions completely gone. Drew’s eyes snapped from my face to follow my hands movement further down my body. I watched Drew as I slowly teased myself, parting my thighs a little wider and stroked my clit, Drew almost coming apart, his hands gripping the buckles of his kilt tighter.

He hurried, struggling with having to take his eyes from me to see what he was doing, flicking them back and forth, finally getting the buckles undone and unceremoniously, let the heavy fabric fall to the floor. He stepped out of the kilt and ran his hands along my legs, parted them further. He moved between them, and a small moan escaped me as my finger jolted over my sensitive clit and slid over my entrance. His hands reached the tops of my thighs; one went to my wrist and removed my hand as his other gripped himself to replace my finger with only the tip of him.

My eyes fluttered closed. Already my body shook with the need for release. My eyes flew open to Drew’s when he lifted my hand. Slowly taking my still wet finger in his mouth, he sucked hard and enters me, at the exact same moment. Slowly filling me, Drew grazed the palm of my finger along his teeth and he sucked it dry. My eyes rolled back in my head at the sensory over load.

My body bowed, tethering on the edge as Drew released my finger with a nip, one hand going to the middle of my back and the other taking his weight as he rocked into me. Drew brought his mouth to my breast, biting hard, obliterated me instantly. I screamed out in ecstasy as my orgasm tore through me.

Drew followed only moments behind. I collapsed back on the bed, and Drew pulled the blankets out from underneath me, curling up behind me, tucking us in. I drifted off into a blissful sleep ... for a little while, at least.

––––––––

I
finally reached the top step, turning right. I wiped my sweaty palms on my jeans and slowly opened the door to my room. A shattering scream tore from my throat as I crumbled to the floor. I couldn’t breathe; all I could do was look at the scene before me in utter shock as I cried hysterically.

“Oscar ...”

I wailed, on the floor, my body racked with sobs as reality crushed home. I used the door to pull myself up, and fought to regain control of my legs as they began to crumble beneath me. I desperately tried to hold onto my lunch.

I snapped my eyes closed, trying to shut out the image of Oscar bleeding out all over my bed, but it was burned into my retina. I took a shuddering breath in and opened my eyes. I took the few shaking steps towards the bed.

I was physically unable to reach out and check to see if Oscar might have still been alive. It couldn’t have been possible with the amount of blood there was, and on closer inspection I could see his empty eyes staring back at me. I covered my mouth to stop the gut-wrenching cry that was coming out as I reached for the blood-spattered note lying on my pillow.

It has been a long, long time since I’ve seen your little face, chérie. Not once did you visit. That really hurt; after all, it was thanks to you I was convicted. That’s not something you forget or forgive.

I thought it was time a visit was due. Seeing as you wouldn’t come to me, I thought it only right I come to you. Sadly, you weren’t home, but your furry feline was more than accommodating.

I’ll be seeing you soon, mon chérie.

I’ll always find you.

Oh God. He’s back? The letter slipped out of my fingers and flitted to the floor, landing in the pool of blood by the bed. I watched with a sick sort of fascination as the blood soaked into the paper, swallowing the words from the page, but not from memory. I had a feeling those words would forever be imprinted on my soul, haunting me for years to come.

I snapped to and did what my mother had always done: I ran. I hurriedly threw some clothes and some personal things into a duffel bag, and ran downstairs. I paused on the bottom step, dropping my bag and ran back up. All the photos on my mirror had been ripped in two, and I cried all over again.

I ran around the bed to the side table and pulled out the diary I had, remembering I’d fallen asleep a few nights ago with a picture of my mother tucked in there. Sure enough, the old photograph was still there. I crushed it to my heart briefly and hurried back downstairs, to the kitchen. I started emptying the half dozen cookie jars we had, scattering them all over the counter, trying to find the secret stash of money Lisa kept at the bottom of one. I didn’t have time to feel guilty, If she ... if she was still ... She’d forgive me, I hoped.

Grabbing some food out of the fridge, I rushed to the front door, cramming the food and money in the bottom of my duffel as the door locked behind me.

I couldn’t look back as I jumped on my pushbike and headed to the train station. Hoping beyond all hope that I wasn’t being followed, I took all the long back ways to make it harder if I was. I made it to the station unscathed, and bought a ticket, asking for the end of the line.

I didn’t know where exactly I was going or what I was going to do when I got there, but the relief of sitting on the train watching it start up was worth the hardship to come. I was smart, and surely resourceful enough to come up with some plan. I had four plus hours to do so.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure standing at the edge of the platform, one I had only seen in my nightmares for the last ten years. My heart stopped. But when I turned to look back, the train had moved too far, and I couldn’t see. I made note to get off a few stops before my ticket said, just in case, the last words in the letter echoing in my head ...

I’ll be seeing you soon, mon chérie.

I’ll always find you ...

––––––––

I
bolted upright, gasping for breath, and quickly got out of bed before Drew could roll over to reach for me.

“Mia?”

I was already closing the bathroom door when Drew’s sleep-filled voice reached me. I turned the shower on to steaming, stepping into the spray. I put my hands up against the wall, trying to hold my shaking body up as the water ran over my head and down my spine, spiralling down the plughole. I knew it had been a bad idea to stay.

I’d thought about leaving Lisa a note that day, a million times over, but what would I have said?
I’m sorry about the bed, I hope you’re alive
... I couldn’t even send her a letter, for fear the postage stamp would give my location away.

Those first few years had been the hardest, trying to get a job with no references. I had to get creative, making up fake references, and getting extra SIM cards. I got pretty good at changing voices.

The little bit of money I took from Lisa allowed me to stay in some hostels until I saved up enough to rent rooms, but I was always paranoid, constantly looking over my shoulder, and meticulously looking in the paper at the missing persons.

Every time I saw my photograph turn up I’d move, change my hair, my name, and my story. It worked for a while, but I’d been too close to home, and a few times my employers had told me some man saying he was my father was looking for me. It was always the same:
my poor runaway daughter, we just want her home, my wife is worried sick.

You don’t have a wife! You sick, twisted bastard. You ...

I slammed my fists against the wall. The son-of-a-bitch was resourceful and relentless, but always one-step behind me.

It was the first time since that day I’d cried and I let the tears roll down my face. The water’s spray stung as it washed them away.

I’d stayed like that for what felt like hours when warm hands tentatively went around my middle, and this time, I didn’t jump. Somehow, I knew he was there. Drew stepped further in behind me and turned the scorching heat down a little. He didn’t say anything for a long while, just stood there with his arms wrapped securely around my waist, holding me and occasionally kissing my shoulder as I silently cried.

The tears eventually stopped at about the same time as the water turned lukewarm, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Drew’s hands moved slowly up to cup my breasts, his thumbs lazily rubbing circles around my nipples. I took a deep breath and leaned into Drew, savouring his touch.

“These,” he voice a soft as he whispered in my ear. “I like these.”

I scoffed as Drew continued to massage my breasts. His hands slowly moved down my ribs along my waist, and settled on my hips with a little squeeze.

“I’m liking these, too.”

My breath started to quicken as his hands went around to palm my arse.

“These. I’m also very partial to these.”

I laughed lightly again. He slid two fingers between the seam and down.

“This ...”

He ran the two fingers along my arse and up to slip inside me, and my breath caught as he began to work me slowly.

“... I like even more.” His other hand came around my hip and down to stroke my clit.

“Drew ...”

“Shhh.” He kissed along my shoulder and up my neck, gently nibbling on my ear, and increased his rhythm. I wrapped my hands behind me, weaving them in his hair as he worked me faster, and it wasn’t long before I was coming.

Drew wrapped his arms around me, one hand resting on my racing heart.

“But this, here, I love.”

I turned around in his arms and buried my head in his chest, finally noticing the water’s cold spray. He dipped down, lifted my legs up and carried me back to bed, curling us up under the blankets with me securely in his arms, still wet.

––––––––

“M
ia, are we going to talk about it?”

“No. There's nothing to talk about.”

It had been weeks since that first night I’d stayed, weeks since I'd let Drew comfort me after a dream. I tried not to stay so much, but Drew could be rather persuasive. It was the bacon. I told him as much; I only stay for the bacon. He’d laughed, and soon his fridge was full of it. So I tried harder not to let him see. He’d fall asleep with me in his arms, and I'd slip out and take one of the over-the-counter sleeping pills, but they didn't help either. They just made it harder to pull myself out of the nightmare.