Deviant (14 page)

Chapter 21

Tyler

Buckinghamshire, 1996

“Do you like flowers, Tyler?” I nodded with a smile.

“When we get married, I’m going to buy you a flower every day until the day we die.”

My heart exploded with love for this boy. He was so tall and getting bulkier now, but always had the cheekiest, lopsided grin you ever saw. His hair was still dark, almost black, but he had the most striking blue eyes I had ever encountered. He was simply beautiful.

“You don’t want to be thinking about marriage when you’re only thirteen, Dean. Don’t be silly,” I giggled.

Dean looked serious as he took my hand. “I’m not being silly,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m just stating a fact.”

*****

The moment I heard the door shut, I knew he wasn’t coming back. I didn’t know what I had done to cause him to get so upset with me, but I couldn’t think about that. I had to get my hands free. They were starting to ache now that the fun was obviously over.

Moving my hands around a bit, I was able to break free of the ribbon and sit up. My wrists and my neck felt a little sore, but not as sore as my heart felt. For some reason, the feeling of rejection was rising through me and it almost caused a little sob to escape.

I couldn’t understand it. What did I do wrong? What could I possibly have done that changed his attitude so drastically?

I shook my head, wondering what on earth was wrong with me. He was a deviant who snuck into my room, did the most erotic things to me, stalked me, and knew everything there was to know about me. So, why was it that I was the one obsessing over him, left wondering whether he would ever come back? It was almost like I was lost to him now. I was once his obsession. Now it looks as though I was just as sick with it as him.

Sighing, I got out of bed and made sure he definitely wasn’t in the apartment anymore. I walked into my bathroom and found that he turned the toilet paper the other way. “Mother fuc—”
Don’t do it, Tyler. Don’t let him win. Deep breaths, just take deep breaths.

I stood there for a moment, eyes closed and breathing out my frustration. It still bugged the hell out of me. That would never change. Bending down, I switched the toilet paper back around before flicking on the overhead light by my mirror. When the light came on, it blinded me a little, but not so much that I didn’t notice the bite on the other side of my neck. What was it with him and marking me?

Sighing, I trailed a finger over the bruised area, gazing at my reflection. My hair looked like it had been dragged through a hedge backwards, but I
was
tied up and abused in the most glorious way.

Shaking my head, I realised I had let him near the one place no one had ever explored before. I thought it would hurt, but he just seemed so gentle, and it just felt so right, that I found myself wanting more. I never thought I would enjoy something like that, but he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. And it both frightened and excited me.

I cleaned myself up and got back into bed, but I didn’t think sleep would come easy. I was exhausted, but I was also wound up tightly. He seemed to suddenly blow hot and cold on me. I didn’t know whether I was coming or going.

I know I was mostly coming, but there was something about him that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I didn’t know whether to feel frightened, excited, anxious, or all of the above. All I knew was there was something familiar about him. There was something so tender and so right that it topped all of the rest of it. Treating me this way didn’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of things. Not when he was the only one since Dean that had made me feel this alive.

On instinct, I touched the angel wings, remembering the day he first gave them to me. He made me make a promise and I kept that promise, but Dean hadn’t kept his. He never returned and I never heard from him again. It took a year to stop looking over my shoulder, hoping he would come back. It was a year of crying into my pillow, jumping every time the phone rang or someone knocked on our door. In a sense, I still had never truly gotten over him. He was my first love, and that’s hard to beat. My stranger was doing a good job of it, though. He was the first man who has ever come close to Dean. He was the first man to ever make me feel things I’d never felt before. He was the first man to ever open my eyes and make me see the true Tyler breaking free. I knew I was a little dark in that respect.

I had a boyfriend named Alan once. The sex was okay, but I never felt it was enough. One evening, I asked him to fuck me hard from behind and spank me. He looked at me as though I had asked him to jump off a cliff.

Suffice it to say, we didn’t do it because he wasn’t comfortable about possibly hurting me. It was only a week or so after that we ended things between us. It was just as well. I was even shocked at myself for suggesting it, and to carry on as normal after that was not going to happen.

Sighing, I turned over in bed and stared at a shadow on the wall. I knew it was just the light from outside illuminating a section on the top of the wall, but it still looked kind of creepy nonetheless. It looked like a black crow with its beak open, its wings spread like it was ready to pounce on its prey. Maybe it was trying to tell me something. Maybe I was the prey. I knew I was my stranger’s prey. But I loved every second of it.

I stared up for what must have been several minutes. I watched as this creepy shadow seemed to morph into what looked like a vampire bat.
Quite an apt shadow
, I thought, in my sleepy haze, considering my stranger liked to bite me so much.

It was soon after that I found myself suddenly in the corner of my room. I was scared and frightened, hiding from something, but I didn’t know what.

From the shadows, a figure appeared. I thought he was a monster out to get me, but when he came closer, I realised it was Dean. My Dean was here!

My thumping heart slowed as the boy I loved when I was younger came and kneeled down beside me, smiling. I smiled back, feeling absolutely euphoric at the thought that he was here to save me. My Dean had come back, just as promised, and he’d come to rescue me from the monsters.

“Tyler, what are you doing?” he asked, a lopsided grin on his face.

It was then I remembered exactly why I was there, cowering in the shadows. “I’m hiding in the shadows so the monster can’t find me.”

Dean laughed, but came closer. Leaning against my ear, I could feel his hot breath. “Tyler,” he whispered, making me shiver with the feel of his mouth so close to my ear, “you can’t hide in the shadows.”

“Why not?” I asked, wanting so much for him to take me away from here.

“Because it’s the shadows which are chasing you.”

I bolted up in my bed, sweat dripping. It was dark, I was scared. I couldn’t quite catch my breath. I flicked the light on in my room. Everything was still dark and quiet. So, so quiet.

Getting out of bed, I checked my bathroom and turned on my shower. Everything was still in place, the toilet roll as I left it.

As I jumped into the shower and let the warmth envelope me, I started wondering about what my dream meant. Why was Dean in it all of a sudden? Why was he so scary? Closing my eyes, I remembered what my last thought was before I went to sleep. I was thinking of Dean and looking up at the sinister shadows on my wall. It all made sense now. My fuzzy head cleared and I felt calm in the knowledge it was just my subconscious playing tricks on me. Dean would never hurt me. He always said I was his girl, and I always believed him. I still believe him to this day. I just wished I knew where he was and what he was doing right now. Just to know that he was alive and happy would be enough. It was the not knowing that frustrated and worried the hell out of me.

After calming down a little, I shut off the shower, dried myself, and headed back to bed. No shadows were haunting me now. Everything seemed normal—as normal as things could be, at least. I lay there waiting and hoping sleep would find me. It seemed I was more exhausted than I had thought, and I didn’t have too long to wait.

Chapter 22

Dean

Revenge is the naked idol of the worship of a semi-barbarous age.

Percy Bysshe Shelley

No amount of driving could help me. Normally, speed would help alleviate the pressures of the day, but I was wound up far too tightly tonight. What the fuck was she doing wearing that necklace? Why the fuck did she care enough about it to still wear it? It didn’t make any sense.

Smacking the steering wheel, I gripped it tightly. Of course! The witch was using her tricks again. I had been sucked into her voodoo spell.
Well done, Tyler, but it won’t happen again
.

I appreciate that she didn’t know who I was and had no clue what she was doing but, nevertheless, she was poison. And she used to be my cure. She always knew the right things to say and do. I cherished and loved her in a way that no one could ever come close.

It didn’t matter because Tyler had done a number on me now. I’d be a psychiatrist’s dream…if I ever had one. I was sick and twisted, but she was a little sick and twisted, too. I mean, who in their right mind lets a stranger roam their home and does nothing about it? Who in their right mind would let someone they didn’t know come into their home and do things to them that had never been done? In a sense, it frustrated me that she let me. I could be anyone, but she just opened her door and let me in. And I knew it wouldn’t be long before she let me into her heart. I just had to make sure she never thought she could enter mine because I didn’t have one, plain and simple.

Sighing, I signalled left to head towards the Barnes area. I had far more important things to deal with right now. I had to meet Jimmy in a half-hour so we could deal with a little…annoying matter. One of my men betrayed me and I couldn’t have that. No one betrays Dean Scozzari.

No one should ever dare.

Chapter 23

Tyler

Buckinghamshire, 1997

“What movie do you want to go see, Tyler? Our treat.” Dean smiled and Ian ran his fingers through his hair, waiting for me to answer.

“I’m not sure,” I said, biting my lip. “I would like to see
Dumb and Dumber
, but it’s rated twelve.”

Both Dean and Ian laughed. Ian placed his hand on my shoulder and gave me a gentle squeeze. “You’ve already forgotten that you’re twelve today?”

My eyes widened and we all laughed. “Oh, shoot. I guess I’m being a little blonde.”

Dean winked at me, making me blush. “Or a little beautiful.”

We stared at each other for a little while, then Ian cleared his throat. “Let’s go and line up for the tickets then.”

Nodding, we got the tickets and made our way to the theatre. We sat down with about ten minutes to spare before the film.

Ian turned to us. “I’m going to get some popcorn. Do you want some?”

Dean and I shook our heads, as Dean held up a packet of salt and vinegar Hula Hoops crisps. “I’m set, but thanks, Ian.” Ian nodded and went up the aisle to get his popcorn. Moments after, the room fell dark and everyone stopped talking and rustling with their packets of food.

Out of nowhere, Dean grabbed my left hand and held it gently. I looked up at him with a smile as he gently played with my fingers. “You have such delicate hands, Tyler. They’re so perfect. Why do you have to be so perfect?” he asked, the light from the movie screen bouncing off his eyes.

My breath caught. It always did when Dean was around. I loved him just as much as the very first day I met him. I knew I was only six back then, but I knew. It never changed. It just grew stronger the older I got.

“I wouldn’t say I’m perfect,” I whispered, his gentle touch making me shiver a little. He always knew how to make the goosebumps rise throughout me.

Dean ignored my comment and took a Hula Hoop out of his packet. He inspected the size for a moment, then turned to me with a smile. “One day, this will be a real one,” he said, placing it on my finger.

He never said a word after that. He smiled, giving me a little wink before turning his attention back to the film. I was left completely shocked and mesmerised by this one and only boy I would ever love.

The rest of that day and into the next, I never took that Hula Hoop off my finger.

*****

The next few days went by in a haze. I worked my ass off, visited Jeremy after work, and planned a little surprise I had up my sleeve. I had been working hard to get it off the ground and make sure everything was ready. I contacted the hospital and squared it with them and, out of courtesy, I contacted Social Services. I knew once Sunday came, though, I wouldn’t need to seek their permission. I just needed to make sure Jeremy was strong enough to leave the hospital.

In the past few days, my stranger didn’t visit. I was sad and angry, and I was also mad at myself for feeling sexually frustrated. I was mad that, on a couple occasions, I woke up screaming his name, my fingers playing with my wet pussy. I was unashamedly wanton for him. I craved him like my next meal. I wanted to devour him and, most of all, I wanted him to devour me. I wanted him to take me. I wanted him to fuck me until I was raw, until I was used up and spat out. I wanted anything from him he could give. He was becoming an addiction and I hated myself because of it. I hated that made me weak with need. I hated that the longing for him was becoming my obsession. And I hated him for making me feel things I haven’t felt in a long time. Call it stupid, but I was quickly falling in love with this man without a face. He was all I ever wanted, all I ever thought about, and it was, quite frankly, killing me.

Louisa invited me to a Halloween party in Soho this Saturday. I’m going to go, of course, because it beats sitting around, hoping and praying he would come for me. If only there was something I could do to exact some sort of revenge for leaving me in the lurch, for making me wait, for making me hope, for making me want him here with me.

*****

On Saturday, I was getting myself ready for lunch with my mother. I hadn’t seen her for a while and was looking forward to it. My mother was something familiar and soothing right now. I needed her distraction and I needed her motherly comfort. No matter how old you get, a son or daughter will always need his or her mother.

Grabbing my keys, I left the apartment to check on my car. For some reason, I felt a pang of sorrow when I saw that it was where I left it yesterday. I was so used to coming down and seeing it parked the other way. In a sense, it kind of felt as though my stranger was abandoning me, or punishing me for something. I wished I knew what it was. I didn’t know what I would do about it, but it’s the not knowing that was driving me crazy.

Walking the twenty minutes or so, I approached the Italian bistro on High Street. I had always loved Italian food. Dean probably had a lot to do with that. His family, of Italian descent, introduced me to all sorts of Italian dishes. He told me his parents named him after the famous singer/actor, Dean Martin. It was a traditional thing to do, considering his uncle was named after a famous actor. I think it was Humphrey Bogart, but I wasn’t too sure. I had never met Dean’s uncle.

“Darling,” my mother chimed, rising out of her seat to give me a kiss. My mother, as always, looked pristine. She always kept her blonde hair immaculately tied up in a bun, her long eyelashes were always accentuated with the perfect amount of mascara. Never a hair out of place, never an imperfection to show us that she was normal. She only ever dressed in the finest designer clothes, only ever mixed with the highest of society. And who could blame her? She had worked really hard to get to where she was now. She earned fantastic money and commanded only the finest of clients…because she could. Everyone wanted her to be their lawyer. She was once nicknamed the “Rottweiler” simply because she was a vicious beast once she got in the courtroom. Her reputation was such that every other defence lawyer secretly hoped and prayed they weren’t up against her in court. She simply never loses, and I thought that was what made people cower away from her.

“Hi, Mum. How are you?” I asked, sitting down in the seat opposite her.

“I’m happy now I get to see my other favourite daughter.” She smiled. It was a lovely smile. No matter her reputation, she always had the most tender smile for me.

“So, how is life, Tyler? Met a man yet?”

Yes, I have met a man. I haven’t a clue of his real name. I don’t know what he looks like or who he really is, but he fucks like no other man out there and no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about him.

“No. No man for me as yet,” I replied with a smile.

My mother frowned a little. “What about Ian? I thought you two had this little pact going. You’ll be turning thirty soon.”

I shook my head. “Please don’t remind me.” I had another ten months to go yet, but it was the one birthday I was dreading.

“Ian’s a nice boy.”

I laughed. “He’s not a boy anymore,” I replied, thinking about the very un-boyish things he liked to do, especially once he’s had a few to drink. He was like an unstoppable force, grabbing my ass or copping a feel of my breasts.

“I always thought you two would get together, especially after Dean disappeared.”

The pain hit me as fresh as it was on the last day I ever saw Dean. On instinct, I grabbed a hold of my angel wings and stroked them, hating myself for wanting something back I never truly had.

“Why did you hate Dean so much?” I had to know. My mother and father were always pushing me towards Ian. The more they pushed, the more I rebelled. It was Dean. It was always Dean.

My mum crossed her legs. “I never hated Dean. I just thought he was a bad influence on you. Ian was always the one who had your best interests at heart. He cares for you and always has.”

I shook my head, and was about to retort when a waitress came over with two glasses and a bottle of Prosecco. “I took the liberty of ordering the Prosecco. I hope you don’t mind.” I shook my head, but I was itching to get back to our conversation.

“What would you like to order?” the waitress asked, looking from me to my mother.

“I’ll have the Spaghetti di Mare,” my mum replied.

“Molto bene,” the waitress replied with a giggle, then turned to me.

“Can I please have the Carbonara?”

Writing it all down, the waitress nodded her head. “Si, perfecto.” She took the menus from us and walked towards the kitchen.

“Don’t you think that dish is a little fattening, Tyler?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’ve hardly eaten a thing these last few days. I think my body could cope with a little bit of something naughty for a change.” My mum was always one to make sure no one was even remotely overweight in our house. When my sister and I were growing up, she was constantly watching what we were eating, scolding us if we wanted to eat a piece of chocolate or order a cake after a meal in a restaurant. My mother cared, but that was because she was so high maintenance.

“Why have you hardly eaten?” She frowned with concern, picking up her glass for a sip.

I did the same. “I’ve just been swamped with work and stuff. It’s no big deal.” I placed my glass back down and waited for her normal response.

“I worry about you working yourself too hard. I thought you were doing this column for yourself. Wouldn’t that help ease things a little?”

It did, but I wasn’t about to divulge all my secrets regarding Jeremy, my stranger—all the things that were keeping me inherently occupied at the moment. “It does, but I still want everything to be perfect.”

Laughing, my mother crossed her legs and leaned in a little. “You were always so devoted to anything you were interested in. Even as a child.”

I cocked my eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And I wonder where I got that from.”

My mother smiled. “Touché, Tyler. I suppose you were always going to be the fighter. It is in your genes, after all.”

I laughed a little, but the annoyance from earlier was still running through me. “So, back to where we were. Why is it so important that Ian and I get together? We’ve known each other since we were practically babies, and apart from the odd playful banter, we both know that the banter is as far as it goes. I have no interest in Ian in that way. We were, and always will be, extremely close, but I have to tell you the truth. I miss Dean. I think about him every day. I wonder what on earth happened to him and why he never returned to me.”

My mother flinched at my words. “I’m sorry, Tyler. I never realised you felt that way.”

I sighed, feeling myself relax a little. “I didn’t think it was that hard to see, Mum. I pined for him. In a sense, I still do. I know it sounds crazy, but he was my first love. Surely you remember your first love?”

My mum smiled, a hint of nostalgia in her eyes. “His name was Blake and he was considered the bad boy at my school. I was infatuated, but your grandparents couldn’t stand the boy. I guess history truly does repeat itself. But the difference for me was I grew out of the bad boy that he was and, as I got older, I started focusing on more important issues in my life. By the time I was about thirteen, I knew I was going to be a lawyer. I wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of that.”

“Do you know what happened to Blake?” I asked. I never knew this side of my mother, so this was more than a little intriguing.

My mother smiled, a little mischievously. “Funny enough, Blake was my third case to trial. He was twenty-four by then, and had been in and out of prison for various things. His case was a triple burglary, and four counts of being in possession of an illegal substance. When I saw him, I thought I wouldn’t be able to get through the case. I considered dropping it, or fumbling my way through. But I was just starting out. I had won my last two cases and I wasn’t going to let anyone come between that. My career was my life.”

“So you sent him down?” I asked, eager to hear the rest.

“Yes. It didn’t help that one of the houses he robbed belonged to the mayor. I think he realised that was a huge mistake right there. He got sent to prison for fifteen years, but was out after seven.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “Wow! Didn’t you ever worry about—?”

“Revenge?” she asked, interrupting me. I nodded. “I did for a bit, but when he came out, it wasn’t long before he was back in again. It would seem that a life of crime and prison was all he was meant for. He did have his chance to seek retribution, but I kind of knew he wouldn’t do anything.”

I saw the glint in her eye, so had to ask, “Why?”

My mother took another sip of her drink. “Because he wrote to me while he was in jail. He said that being sentenced by me was the hottest and most unforgettable experience he had ever had. He said he knew he was going down, and if anybody had to do it, he was glad it was me. That he would gladly replay the case over and over in his head. That it would be the one pleasant memory he would cling onto in prison. He ended by saying he would love it if we got together again, but knew I was married with a baby on the way. He wished me only happiness.”