The Alphabet Game the Complete Alpha Series a to X, Y, Z (15 page)

I’m so desperate to finish that the minute he undoes me I stick my hand between my legs and stick two fingers inside myself. I push myself onto them, furious. My tits rubs against the bars, the coldness of the bars feels exquisite.

‘Oh, oh, oh, oh, ooohhh my Godddd.’ I shout as a knee collapsing orgasm rushes through me. I rest against the cage panting.

‘You are so fucking sexy.’ Gabe comes towards me, his manhood in his hand. ‘Stroke me.’

He sticks his dick through the square nearest to my hand. I have the power to pull so hard I could almost castrate him if I wanted. But I don’t, I want to fuck him. I massage his shaft, right down to his balls. I push my face against the bars. ‘Kiss me.’

He sticks his tongue in my mouth and bites on my lip hard. I kiss him back harder and bite him on his. I suck on his top lip. He sucks on my bottom lip. When we part, I almost beg him. ‘Let me go, I want to suck you.’

He undoes my other cuff and I sink to the bottom of the cage, balancing carefully. I put him in my mouth and suck on him slowly. I let my teeth slightly graze him.

‘Fuck, Stella, it’s got to be now.’

I let him go and raise myself back up and press myself forward again into the bars. He puts a condom on and then enters me forcefully. We can’t move much because of the bar placement. I have to do more of the work, curling my feet around the bars at the bottom and using my hands on the bars in front to help me lift myself up, down and around on his cock.

‘Are you near because I’m about to come Stella.’

‘Yes, carry on, carry on, ooooohhhhhh.’

I climax onto him, feeling my body pulse around him, triggering his own release. He grabs my hands and holds them against the bars, while he finishes coming, bucking into me hard.

He opens the cage and I climb out.

I tilt my head to the side,‘Can I go home now?’

‘That depends. Are you still leaving me?’

‘I’m leaving Gregory and Sons, that’s a definite. You, well I figure you still have some potential.’

‘Thought my Alphabet Game was silly?’

I huff. ‘You pissed me off. It’s not silly. It’s too fucking good, that’s what it is,’ I grumble. ‘Could do without it, it complicates things.’

‘So we’re okay then?’

‘I don’t know what we are Gabe but whatever it is, it’s still carrying on, it would appear. Now I need to go home, but before I do, why were you in such a damn bad mood anyway?’

‘My father’s sending me away on a business trip for a few days.’

‘Lorraine says you were in a stinker before that.’

‘I may have followed you yesterday. Who’s the man you met up with?’

I pinch my lips together. ‘Gabe, that is not your business. You followed me? What gives you the right to do anything like that?’ I start to get dressed.

‘You haven’t answered my question. Who is he?’

‘He’s a bloody Private Investigator okay? I’ve employed him to do some digging on Mitch. I tell you what, I’ll give him your bloody phone number and you can hire him to follow me around so that you know who I’m meeting and what I’m doing. Now if you don’t mind,’ I push past him. ‘I’m going to see my mother this evening so I really better get going.’

‘Don’t leave me out of this Stella. We’re supposed to be on the same team.’

I smack my fists into his chest, ‘You’re so bloody confusing. You want in? Stop behaving like a spoilt child and TRUST ME for God’s sake. You know my background, you paid for it,’ I spit. ‘I don’t rely on anybody Gabe, I’ve told you that, but you show me I can trust you and maybe, just maybe,I’ll share some of myself with you.’

He holds my wrists again, which flares up the tension between us. I want to fuck him again.

‘I accept your resignation. Like I say, I’m away for a few days. Will you meet me when I get back?’

I nod, ‘Now I really must go.’

I catch the Tube to my mum’s house. They live in a mews house in Belgravia. The keys jangle in my hand. I had to search several drawers for this earlier, it’s so long since I used it, but I figured Mitch may not let me in without prior knowledge. I want him to know he can’t keep me away from my own mother.

They have a cook, Sylvia, who prepares an evening meal and then leaves it for them to heat. My mother was so capable when she had me, she always cooked. She’s become a puppet for that man. He’s the one who has made her meek and vulnerable. I’m going to fight to get my mother back in my life.

I open the door and walk through the hallway. ‘Mum?’

There’s no answer. It doesn’t appear anyone is home. I use this to my advantage and go upstairs, hoping my shoes are clean because they have beige carpet throughout. I tiptoe past my old bedroom, having a quick peek at the room where I never belonged. I was never allowed to personalise it. They insisted that the house had to look the same throughout, as the Interior Designer envisaged it, with its minimal angular furniture and light tones. I head into Mitch’s study. He has an old style desk made of heavy oak with lion feet. It doesn’t fit with the modernity of the rest of the house, but he insisted on it, said it was a family heirloom. I rummage through the drawers, I don’t know what I hope to find, but just something, anything, that I could turn over to the Private Investigator. I slam the drawer shut, there’s nothing. Just receipts, invoices, bills, pictures of my mother. I’m so frustrated and stand looking at the desk as if begging for it to give me it’s secrets. Oh Stella, I chide myself, you’re not in a bloody spy movie. Then I wonder, is there a false bottom in these drawers? Just like in films? It would be so cliche but that’s Mitch all over.

I put my hands to the very bottom of the drawer, achieving nothing except for scraping the skin off my knuckles. The only item at the bottom of the drawer is a stupid old photo album. I pull it out to have a nosey. I see photos of a young Mitch with whom I presume are his own parents; he looks exactly the same but younger. The guy just never alters, just adds a few creases. I flick through, laughing at the old fashioned hairstyles until a photo on a page brings me up in shock. A school photograph, where Mitch is side by side with Arnold Gregory. The eyes stare out from the page like they’re mocking me. The bastards, they knew each other at school, years ago. They didn’t meet after what happened with Isabel. I pull the photo from the album and stuff it in my bag. This shit gets more fucked up by the minute.

I carefully put the book back in the drawer. I need to call Peter first thing in the morning with this new information.

My feet creep back downstairs and I’m just about to leave when I hear a loud crack and my mother shouts out in pain. ‘Mitch please.’

I run towards the source of the noise. That rat bastard is hitting my mother again. I dash for the kitchen and grab a kitchen knife, I will fucking stab him to death if I have to. The door to the integral garage is open and it’s there I come to an abrupt halt as I see my mother bent over a wooden vault whilst Mitch strikes her backside with a cane. I drop the knife, though they are oblivious to its clatter and I grip my stomach as I feel I’m about to wretch.

I turn and run away from the house, as fast as my legs will take me, desperately hoping the image will stop burning my retinas.

My mother’s a submissive.

Chapter 6

Seated at Henry’s bar on the Quay, I’m considering throwing myself in.

Did I really just see that?

I order a vodka, swig it down and order another. A young guy walks up to the bar at the side of me. He has short stubby hair and is wearing a vest top which displays a heart shaped tattoo on his arm with Ange written across it. He takes too long admiring my legs.

‘Hey can I buy you a drink?’

‘No thanks, my name’s not Ange.’

‘No need to be rude.’

‘Sorry, I just need to drink alone.’

‘Well be careful, pretty girl like you. Could be taken advantage of.’

I laugh, ‘Not a fucking prayer mate. Been there, done that.’

He looks at me weirdly and walks off. I see him and his friends looking over at me, obviously chatting about the weird girl.

No, this is just one more knock in Stella’s hard life and I can’t be bothered with it anymore. I don’t have to work tomorrow. In fact I have absolutely no reason to wake up at all. Who’d miss me? My one and only friend is in rehab. I’m just an unwanted daughter come sex toy.

I get off my bar stool and go to the chemists.

Sitting in the bathtub, rivulets of red come washing down the bath at the side of me, whilst the shower pours over. I’m numb. I’m hypnotised by the swirling scarlet, looking like those ribbons that gymnasts twirl around. I hear my apartment door open and weird sounds emerge as I hear movement. I could be being burgled. I could be about to be attacked. I still sit there, deathly still, not caring.

The door bursts open and Gabe is standing there.

‘Oh fuck, oh fuck, Stella, what have you done?’

Then he must notice the discarded hair dye because he drops to his knees, ‘Oh thank fuck for that.’

He washes my hair, wraps me in towels and lifts me out of the tub. I just let him. I’m incapable of thinking of my next moves.

As he carries me through to my bedroom and we pass the lounge, I manage a word.

‘Stop.’

He pauses facing the room. There are jars everywhere, all filled with different colours of M&Ms.

I tilt my head up at him.

‘You don’t like flowers,’ is all he says.

In my room he dries my hair, helps me into pyjamas and puts me in bed. I offer no struggle. I just get down under the covers and I sleep.

When I do wake he is laid on top of the covers at the side of me, facing me. He’s stayed all night.

‘Gabe,’ I whisper and then I cry until I can barely catch my breath.

He folds his arm around me and lets me soak his shoulder.

Later he brings me a washcloth, wipes my face with it and then rests it over my eyelids. The sides of my eyes feel sore from rubbing the wet away. The cloth soothes. I leave it there.

He strokes my arm gently,‘What happened Stella? You were going to your parents, what did they do?’

I remove the washcloth and resting against his shoulder, I tell him. I feel him tense in response.

‘Oh Stella.’

A sob escapes my throat. ‘I lost my mother today. That’s why I’m so sad. I lost my mother. She died Gabe. I don’t know when, whether it was after she lost my father, after she met Mitch or whether she was never who I thought she was, but today, I realised. My mother, the one who I’ve been looking for, she’s not there any more.’

He tightens his arms around me. ‘She’s still your mother. It’s a lifestyle Stella. Maybe you need to talk to her about it?’ I stiffen. ‘I mean in the future, when you’re stronger.’

My voice comes out and I don’t recognise it, it’s like a little girls, ‘I don’t know if I’ll ever be strong enough again.’

‘Hey, hey, where’s my girl gone? You will.’

I feel myself tremble.‘I’ve been beaten down so many times with a mental stick. I’m broken.’

‘So we’ll use glue.’

He moves to the kitchen to get me a drink. I stay in the bed not moving. My vision blurs as I stare at the wall.

He brings me soup.

He leaves me when I fall back to sleep.

The day carries on, I see him looking at me worriedly, but I don’t feel anything and have no urge to move.

‘Gabe?’

‘Yes?’

‘What day is it?’

‘It’s Friday morning. Are you feeling a bit better.’

I yawn and stretch. Somethings bothering me, what is it? Oh yes, ‘Aren’t you supposed to be on a trip?’

‘I told my father it would have to wait.’

I feel my stomach clench.

‘What did he say to that?’

‘Not a lot. I left him a message on his phone, then I switched mine off.’

I laugh, ‘chicken.’

He strokes my face tenderly, ‘It’s good to see you again Stella Mulroney, you had me worried yesterday.’

I try and get out of bed, but feel drained, like I have a virus.

‘Come on, I’ll help, you’ve not eaten properly. Let’s get you up and into the lounge and I’ll fix you a sandwich.’

Can you fix the rest of me whilst you’re at it?

I sit on the green sofa, which acts as a prism to the giant rainbow of M&Ms around the place, all in glass cylindrical vases. I turn and look at Gabe and laugh.

‘It was worth every penny for that smile on your face right now.’

‘You’re a complete nutter. How am I ever going to eat all these?’

‘Oh they have a long best before date, you’ll be able to give it a good go.’

Then my brow furrows, ‘How’d you get in my apartment?’

‘I may have asked Ronnie for her spare key. She may have threatened me with castration if I did anything to upset you.’