Evil Of Love (21 page)

             
I fucking knew something was going on with her, I just couldn’t imagine that she would really do this to me. She knows who I am, she knows I can ruin her and yet she still fucking does it!

             
Images of that fucking guy with his hands on her won’t escape my thoughts and before I know it, I’m pulling into a hotel. After parking the car, I grab the photos stuffing them into my brief case. I pop the trunk to grab my bottle of whiskey that I keep in there with a few extra bottles just in case, and walk towards the building that has the vacancy sign on the front.

             
The automatic doors swing open as I walk into the lobby. The overwhelming scent of Pine-sol causes me to scrunch my nose as I enter. A young lady stands behind the large desk that faces the entrance. She smiles as she sees me enter, but I’m not in the mood to smile back. I walk straight up to the desk, placing the bottle of whiskey on it so that I can grab my wallet from my pocket.

             
“I need a room for a night,” I request. The woman looks from the bottle of liquor back to me and then smiles.

             
“Yes, Sir. Will any room work for you or do you have a preference?”

             
I grit my teeth, just wanting this bitch to give me a fucking room. “Any room is fine,” I spit.

             
“Great. May I see your driver’s license and I will get your information into our computer? Also, will you be paying by card today?”

             
“Cash,” I reply as I hand her my license.    

             
I wait, beginning to lose my patience and then within a moment she’s handing me my key and I’m paying for the night. I grab my alcohol and take the elevator to room 218 on the second floor. I pay no attention to the other people in the elevator with me, just wanting to get to the room and crack open this bottle. As soon as the elevator door opens I barge out first turning right down the hallway and it doesn’t take long before I come to my room. Swiping the card, the door clicks and I walk through.

             
A couch and flat screen TV occupy the living room, with a complete kitchen as well. I take down a small hallway where a door opens to a room with another flat screen TV and a king size bed. I toss my brief case that holds the incrementing photos of Stephanie onto the bed and slam the door, taking to the kitchen.

             
Wanting nothing more than to forget about all of this, about the photos, about the guy that was touching her in them, I grab a glass and some ice from the freezer, opening the whiskey and filling the tall glass full. I take a seat on the sofa in the living room, sipping my drink and enjoying the smooth burn as it goes down. I place the glass on the coffee table in front of me, running my hands through my hair, unsure of what to do now. For all I know she could be with him now and it’s killing me, I don’t know what I’m going to do. She can’t leave me, I won’t let her. I’m not going to be publicized that way, embarrassed by my own wife.

             
Not wanting to, but knowing it’s necessary, I grab my brief case from the room, bringing it back to the coffee table. Before opening it I drink down all the whiskey in my glass. As I pop the latches and pull out the photos, I feel as if I might lose my mind, but I breathe. I keep as calm as possible in a situation like this. I lay all the photos out in front of me on the table. There has to be at least twenty. I don’t look through all of them, but what I do see is enough. A photo of her standing next to me at the market, her dark shades covering most of her face, catches my eye. I hold it up in front of me, studying her. She looks so sad, hurt. It portrays a false perception of her. That is the innocence I married, the woman in the photo, but that is not Stephanie. I toss the photo aside, moving to one that appears to be from the same day, the same man appears in all the photos, holding her in his arms, kissing her forehead.

             
I have to see this. I have to see this for myself in order to believe it. These fucking photos are nothing! I need to confirm that she’s having an affair, myself. I grab my cell phone from my pocket dialing my office.

             
“Barnes and Associates, this is Vanessa, how may I help you today?”

             
“Vanessa, this is Travis.”

“Oh, Mr. Barnes, how can I help you?”

“Do me a favor and cancel any meetings I have this weekend. If anyone calls in, advise them I’m leaving out of town on business and will not return till Monday.”

“Yes, Sir.
Is everything alright?” she asks, but I don’t respond. I just hang up.

I know what I need to do to fix this. She has to learn a lesson. When I’m done with her she’s going to wish she never left the house. I punch another number into my phone.

“Mr. Steels!”

“Travis!”

“I’d like to apologize for leaving lunch so promptly.”

“Don’t be sorry, your reaction was expected. I’m just sorry I had to deliver such horrible news.”

“Yeah, well, I’m calling because I’m hoping you had some information on this man. You know, who he is, where he lives, that sort of stuff.”

“I don’t think going after him is such a good idea, Mr. Barnes.”

“I at least want to know who it is that is fucking my wife, Steels. I think I’m at least owed that.”

“His name is Eric Sutherland. He is an undefeated UFC fighter. I also did a little research on his past, and it seems he went to the same high school as your wife. They grew up not too far from each other. But, Travis, please sit on this. Think about it overnight. Talk to your wife. Find out what’s going on. Get counseling. Handle it the right way.”

“Handle it, huh? Well, that’s the plan,” I spit, hanging up the phone. No form of counseling is going to make this better; I have to fix it on my own. 

Chapter Twenty Seven

Stephanie

I tossed and turned all night, unable to get any rest. It’s not like Travis to not come home and not call. I should probably be happy that I don’t have to put on an act for him, but the reality is that I know something is wrong and it has me worried. I haven’t spoken with Eric since yesterday morning and right now all I wish is that I was with him, wrapped in his arms and this nightmare with Travis was over, but it’s not. I just hope that something has Travis held up, something other than anything to do with me.

             
I glance at the clock from my bed and it’s already six in the morning. I can barely keep my eyes open, but I have too much on my mind to fall asleep. One day, one more day untill the fight and I still don’t know how I’m going to make it there. How I’m going to pack my things and leave without facing Travis. I can’t think about it right now. I decide to stay in bed today. I roll over, covering my face with the comforter and close my eyes, hoping I’ll fall asleep.

***

His large hands trace my backside, chills run up my spine as the sensation fills my body. Oh, I love how Eric feels. His hand gently rubs every curve and then squeezes between my thighs and I respond by parting my legs and turning to face him. My eyelids flutter open from what feels like a long sleep, but instead of being greeted by my green eyed dream, I’m facing fierce brown eyes that look like they have been watching me for hours.

             
“Travis!” I yelp, my voice hoarse from obvious lack of sleep. “Where have you been?”

             
His hands squeeze between my thighs and the only thing between my pussy and his fingers are my pajama shorts. “I had work,” he replies sternly, and I wait, hoping for more explanation, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead he moves his other hand up my shirt, gripping my bare breast, eyes still locked on me.

             
“You didn’t call me. I was worried,” I state.

             
“I was busy.”

             
I watch his eyes, looking for some sort of sign, but all I see is pain, anger and then this lust, a fire burning inside him. He looks as if he hasn’t slept. Instantly his lips crush against mine, his hand pressing against my pussy, and I moan unexpectedly. I can’t help my reaction to his touch, even after he hurts me, beats me, my body still responds to him. I don’t want this; I’m leaving in two days to be with Eric. I try to move away from him, but it’s useless. He grips me tighter, releasing my breast and wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer to him. I know I can’t fight this, I can’t risk him finding out I’m hiding something. Two more days and this will all be over.

             
I relax my body, giving into him. He quickly pulls my shirt up over my head, releasing my lips for only a moment and then colliding with them once more. With his hand between my legs he pulls my shorts down, and I wiggle out of them. His mouth takes mine and before I know it we’re both naked and wrapped up in each other. Even though my heart doesn’t want this, I still can’t deny my body’s needs.

             
His fingers rub my clit until they find their way inside of me. It’s been so long since he’s touched me this way. Touched me in a way that tells me he wants me, he wants to feel every piece of me and wants me to feel him. A moan escapes my lips and the soft, delicate pleasure is over as he rolls me over onto my stomach, lifting my hips as he rubs himself against my ass. That split moment when all seemed like it might be right quickly faded and Travis is back. His hand grips my hair, pulling it tight to the point that my nose is pointed up at the ceiling. I feel his body pressed against mine as he leans in and his breath is on my ear.

             
“You are mine,” he hisses and I shiver with fear. “You belong to me,” he growls as he presses himself inside of me with so much force my body jerks forward, but the grip he has on my hair keeps my head in place. Then he goes at it, losing control. My hair feels like it’s ripping from my skull and no longer do I feel loved, I feel violated. Used in a way that only he is capable of. All I can think about now is the moment this will all be over, the moment I’ll be riding next to Eric in his pickup truck to some place far away from here.

             
A sharp stinging sensation rolls off my ass as his hand meets my sensitive flesh, over and over again. I yelp in pain, but that only makes him pull my hair that much harder.

             
“Shut the fuck up, slut!” he hollers between his grunts of pleasure. Tears run down my cheeks and my stomach rumbles, and I take in a deep breath, containing the urge to vomit.

             
I’m not only disgusted with him, but with myself. I let my guard down and he took advantage, like usual. It doesn’t take long for him to finish, the whole while I’m praying for it to just be over. He pounds against my backside one last time, groaning loudly, but he doesn’t let me go. Instead he pulls out of me, grabbing my waist, still having tight grip on my hair and rolls me to my back. He straddles on top of me, finally releases my hair and I’m thankful, but before I know it, he’s got me by my throat; his nose right up to mine as he hovers over me.

             
“I love you, Stephanie,” he grits between his teeth as if he is struggling to say it. “Now, clean your juices off me,” he whispers, his evil smirk back on his face as he moves up my body until his penis is right in my face. I don’t argue with him, I don’t say a word in fear of being hit, and I place my mouth around him, doing my best to keep my composure and not show my weakness. I can’t cry. Not anymore. Not for him. He releases my neck, and I lick and suck him until he’s satisfied.

             
It only takes a few minutes and he’s hard in my mouth, but once he’s content, he climbs off me, not saying a word to me, only heading to the bathroom, I assume to shower. I roll over in my bed, feeling more alone, and torn than ever before. He doesn’t stop until he’s ripped me into a million pieces emotionally, to the point that I may never mend from his abuse.

             
I curl in on myself, blocking out the throbbing pain in my chest, and close my eyes, while I listen to the shower turn on and the water running in the bathroom. I’m scared more now than I have ever been. The sound of his voice as he told me I belong to him, repeats in my head, over and over again and it’s a nightmare I may never escape.

             
I’m unsure how much time passed while he was in the bathroom, but when he comes out, he stops at the end of the bed. Watching me and I look back, trying not to appear scared. Putting on my best smile, as if he satisfied me.

             
“I’ll be leaving tonight. I’ll be out of town on business until Monday,” he states, no emotion, no smile, and then turns, grabbing his jacket from the chair and walks out of the room.

             
I release the breath I’d been holding. The overwhelming feeling of relief taking over and pushing away all those negative feelings I was just having. I have a way out, an easy escape. I’ll be able to go to Eric’s fight and leave with him right after. I’ll be able to pack my stuff. Leave here without Travis finding out until he returns Monday. He won’t even know what happened until I’m already gone.

             
I jump out of bed, excitement now taking place of the fear I was feeling a moment earlier. God may just be on my side after all. Looks like my bad run is finally coming to an end. This is perfect!