Empathy (15 page)

Gripping Ryan by the back of the neck, I pull him away from the rest of the gathered crowd. “What the fuck was that?”

“He forced my hand by being a prick, and what do you care anyway?”

His pride, that’s why he humiliated her.

“I’m an asshole, Ry, but even I can see that was shitty. You don’t keep people around, but this girl, you have don’t push her away over some asshole taking a pot shot.”

His onyx eyes glare back at me. “You’re right. I’m going to fuck his wife’s face and then apologise to Melody.”

He pulls from my grip, leaving me gaping.

I answer the call from inside myself and go in search of Melody. I find her in the en-suite bathroom of the main bedroom. She’s a sin to someone like me but the rush from just a taste is worth God’s wrath, and let’s face it, I’m not going to be in the queue at the pearly gates; I’ll have a ticket straight down.

“Oh God, you! Stop doing that shit, you’re like a ninja!” She gasps, trying to catch her breath. I growl at her in response. I’m sick of seeing that face in my dreams, those pouty fucking lips, those green orbs burrowing to unlock shit inside me that had no business being unlocked.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Her little gasp makes my cock even harder; it’s pushing against the seam in my jeans, putting pressure there and craving release.

“I’m with your brother, he invited me.”

Shit, hearing that, even though I already know makes my temper boil. I hate that I want her and I hated that my brother has been getting her in some way or another. Her time spent with him makes me… holy shit… jealous. I’m acting like a teenage girl with a crush. I need her to hand my balls back. She’s playing a game, she has to be. How she got Ryan to keep her around intrigues me but not as much as the fact she let me touch her and then spent all her time with him. That pisses me off. It’s unusual for him to keep people around. I’ve never seen him care about anyone, not even me.

Damn, I need to get out of this small space. I’m too close to her. Her body is giving off signals and she doesn’t even know it. Her nipples are hard, pushing against the flimsy fabric of her dress. Her eyes glaze with lust, she wants me, and I could take her, just a taste, right now.

“Did you want something else or are you just stopping by to show me you’re still an asshole?”

I can’t contain the laugh that tears from my chest. “You’re brave, I give you that.” I observe her, stepping closer.

She battles with herself. She doesn’t want to show her wariness but the tiny step back and her pupils expanding tell me she knows better than to not be. Fuck, her little frame shakes, beads of water soaking into her skin. Her damp hair clings to the side of her face; her bottom lip edible as it trembles, enticing me to take her.

“Is your appearance all part of your trap, Puya? You must be a wild lay to keep Ryan coming back for more. He’s a little twisted, even for my tastes. Your pussy must grab like a vice.”

I’m just provoking her. I know it isn’t like that between them. Lust turns to hate in a flash, all telling in those expressive eyes of hers. Her hand twitches before she raises it and connects with my cheek, but I don’t want to stop her. I want to feel a little something, anything to stop me doing something worse.

“You’re so fucking vile. Who broke you? Who made you so hateful? Because that’s where you should target your bitterness, not at everyone else.”

I would have laughed if I didn’t feel the truth of what she said so deeply. “You can talk.”

Her body straightens and her eyes explore mine. “My world became disjointed but I keep the hate for the target inside until I know where to aim it. I don’t shower it on you, so stop drenching me in yours.”

Her tiny shoulder nudges mine for me to move and let her leave. I push her back, her balance giving way from the force, her butt hitting the side of the bath. She looks up at me as I tower over her. “What are you doing?”

Her breathing is heavy and totally betrays her need for what I’m about to do. I jolt her legs apart with my knee. Her thighs quiver against mine. I drop to my knees and her eyes wildly explore my face. I push my upper body between her now spread legs, scraping my hands up her damp, slick thighs, leaving red trails from my fingertips, forcing her dress to rise. Her chest rises in rhythm with my own erratic heartbeat. The desire emanating from us is almost palpable. Every further inch I uncover makes me harder. Her white cotton panties come into view, her pussy almost visible against the soaked fabric. Ryan is a dick for what he did but, God, I want to thank him in this moment. She leans back, showing she wants me to continue, her arm braced on the tiled wall behind her, the other grasping the sink. I slowly dip my fingers into the lip of her panties and drag them down a couple of inches, just until her bare mound is exposed. Saliva floods my mouth, and leaning forward I grip her hips and tug her to my lips, sucking her mound into my mouth, biting her there.

“Oh my God.”

I jolt when the moan doesn’t belong to her; her body has stiffened. My eyes collide with her urgent green swirls. The noises are coming from outside the on suite bathroom we are in. Someone’s come into the adjoining bedroom.

“Get on your fucking knees.” Shit, it’s Ryan. I lift my finger to my lips, miming for her to keep silent. With a nod, her bottom lip disappears into her mouth. God, she’s making me not think rationally.

“You wanted it, take it all the way, you filthy fucking whore.”

My eyes close as Melody’s eyes nearly pop from their sockets. A slapping sound then gurgling follows. I slowly rise to my knees, backing away from her exposed treats with remorse. She furiously straightens her clothing, trying to be quiet, and flinching when her dress, heavy from being wet, slaps against her skin.

“Choke on my cock, bitch, then go kiss that cunt of a husband.”

“Shit, don’t say things like that. It’s not sexy.”

My jaw tightens and my fists open and close. Mills’ wife. He wasn’t kidding. This little shit is going to bring real trouble down on him with this crap and I’ll have to bail him out and still work with these fuckers.

I risk a quick glimpse, and sure enough Mills’ wife is bowed beneath Ryan, looking up, worshipful. Fucking cradle-robbing whore. This woman doesn’t give a shit that Ryan is a nineteen-year-old kid dealing with crap that happened to him as a child the only way he knows.

He slaps her across the face with his dick. “I’m not here to fucking woo you! Fucking shut your mouth unless you’re eating my cock.” He rams his dick down her throat, making her eyes water.

Light flashes. “Smile for the camera.”

She tries to pull away but his other hand holds her firmly against his dick, forcing her onto him. Her nose is almost touching his pubic bone, her head is shaking, her hands wildly slapping at his legs. He’s laughing, looking down at her and taking evidence on his phone.

Shit. I don’t want to make my presence known but she’s going to pass out if I don’t.

“Ryan!”

His hand releases her on reflex. She falls backwards on to her ass, gasping for air, tears streaming from her bloodshot eyes. “You….bastard!”

I point at her. “You’re a fucking slut. Get out before I tell your husband what a whore he married.” Her eyes drop to the floor. She gets to her feet and races from the room. “Ryan, what the actual fuck?”

He slips his dick away, buttoning his fly. “I told you what I was going to do. You seen Melody?”

“No, I haven’t seen her,” I grate out, and watch in astonishment as he leaves the room as if what he did is perfectly normal

“I think I’m just going to leave,” Melody whispers from behind me.

“I think that’s a good idea and it gives me an excuse to leave too. I’ll drive you. Being here is excruciating.”

She scoffs and flees the room.

Melody doesn’t even say goodbye to anyone. I find her walking up the street in her wet clothes. She looks ridiculous.

“Get in the fucking car now. You’re making a spectacle of yourself and it’s embarrassing.”

Fury pours from her. “Drop dead, Blake.”

Grabbing her hips from behind to halt her, I repeat, “Get in the fucking car!”

“Fine! But don’t touch me, asshole.”

Ha! She loves me touching her, the deluded little brat. “My brother just made my dick shrivel up and die so don’t worry your pretty, lying little head, princess.”

She slams the car door, yanking at her seat belt “Lying?”

“Yeah, lying. You fucking love me touching you, Puya, you can deny it with these lips,” I stroke a finger over her gaping mouth, “but those lips…” I wink down at the feverish junction between her luscious thighs, “divulge your lies.” I smirk at her. “Shit, it’s throbbing right now, isn’t it? Creaming from the anticipation.” Her gasp is audible. “Well, hold it in, Puya. I couldn’t get it up now if I tried.” That’s a lie and I hope she won’t look down and mock me for the same shit I just spun at her.

Complete silence descends and lasts the entire drive home. I pull up to her dorm.

“You’re welcome.” I grin at her hostile posture.

“I hate you.”

“No, you hate yourself because you don’t hate me.” I know because I hate me for the exact same thing. I don’t voice the last part though.

She darts from the car and I wait for her to disappear behind the closed door before driving home.

ANOTHER JOB HAS COME IN, but ever since her I’ve questioned my life choices. How many young girls like her are out there living with actions caused by my hate for what happened to us? Was I reckless with the jobs I accepted? The half-brother claimed the father was volatile towards women and the mother was a spectator in his perversions. With my own blind hate for my parents I conceded this warranted the death penalty. I should have investigated further, but the truth is, I knew how under the radar these crimes can be. No one knew how abusive our father and mother were so who was I to question this guy? There has to be a desperate reason to want to kill your father, right? Turns out greed can be a good motivator for murder. Their lawyer is home now and the Will will be read, giving him a nice surprise which has the detectives investigating the parents’ murder and looking more closely into Markus. I’m not worried, our communications were very secure and the only evidence of them is from me printing the details out to go over them with a fine tooth comb after that night.

My phone buzzes, breaking into my thoughts. It’s Ryan. “Hey, you still at the barbeque?” I ask.

“Nah, I left shortly after you. I just called Melody. She called me an asshole.”

“You are an asshole.”

“She’s being a moody bitch; it’s her go to attitude lately. Anyway I called because I can’t find my wallet. Did I leave it on the kitchen table?”

“Yeah. Where are you?”

“At her dorm.”

Swallowing the primal growl crawling up my throat I tell him I’ll bring it to him.

I pull up next to Ryan, stunned by the sudden turn in weather. Rain pelts down with such force it blurs the scenery through the windshield, moulding it all together into a distortion of colors. I lower my passenger window to see Ryan standing under a shelter, staring across the road. I try calling to him but he’s engrossed in whatever has his attention. I slam my hand down on the steering wheel and look over at the back seat to see if, by magic, a jacket has appeared there. No such luck. I grab his wallet and make a dash for it. The pellets hit me like thousands of tiny needles, the air is still thick despite the beckoning storm, and a flash of lightning ignites the sky shortly followed by an eruption of thunder.

“Ryan! What are looking at?”

I follow his line of vision, my breath catching when I see Melody standing in the downpour, no coat. She’s lost in the deadly grips of grief, her body shivering.

“She’s broken. Fuck, Ryan. She’s crying, what are you doing?”

His eyes reluctantly drag from her to me. “Watching.”

She’s breaking inside, the fragile pieces coming away with the water as it pours down on her. Her sorrow is so tangible it’s as if her pain summoned the storm.

I slap his wallet against his chest and run to her. I have to. I may be a sinner but I don’t want her to hurt. I want to wrap her in a sheath of my strength, give her something to hold onto. I want to share her pain so she doesn’t ever cry like this again. If I could crawl into her mind and erase the terror she witnessed, I would. I’m gone, this is it. Seeing her helpless, her soul on the verge of disappearing into the storm, shifts everything I’ve been hiding from into focus.