The Decimation of Mae (The Blue Butterfly) (21 page)

Coming this summer
from

D h Sidebottom & R M
James

Silent Truths

Book 2

In the Shadows of Sin Series

Nola

He
is the wolf. I am the lamb.

Arrogant
isn’t the right word for how I would describe Jude, conceited isn’t even close
enough. But hatred is how I would describe my feelings towards him. I loathe
him. Abhor and despise him. He makes me burn with rage.

I
despise the way his teeth chew on that plump bottom lip of his. I hate the way
his perfectly chaotic hair beckons for my fingers. I loathe the way he looks at
me with those piercing blue eyes which I would gladly drown in, but not now,
not today, not ever.

The
path I have chosen will be not be changed, there will be no diversion, no fork
in the road. I am promised to another and I keep my promises.

He’s
too self-centred to focus with those striking blue eyes. He’s too overconfident
to see what is under his nose. What threatens his very existence.

Me.

His
shadow.

Jude

She
is an angel. I am the devil.

Prickly,
aloof are just some of the words I would use to describe ‘Irish’. Irritable
doesn’t even touch the grouchy woman. But exasperated is how she makes me feel.
She grinds. Aggravates and angers.

It
infuriates me the way she slips her little pink tongue in and out of her tiny
rose bud lips, like she taunting me with her knowing smirk. I am entranced,
almost hypnotized, but it only fuels my rage. Her eyes sparkle like emeralds,
jewels so precious and polished, just like her.

She
is the only woman who I have ever thought could bring me to my knees. But it
won’t happen, it can’t, because she is too pure and moralistic, everything I am
not and never will be.

She’s
far too superior to see the real me through those beautiful deep green eyes.
She’s too cold to realise what lies silent within her.

But
deep down I see her, the real her. The person she doesn’t want anyone else to
see. What her darkness desires.

Me.

Her
sin.

Cassandra

She
is his dream. I am her worst nightmare.

He
doesn’t see what’s under his nose. He disregards me, pushes me away. For her.
For the whore with the deep green eyes.

She
doesn’t deserve him. Doesn’t warrant his attention.

I
hate her. She fills me with repugnance and rage. Creates a fury in me that
physically burns. Morphs me into the devils slave.

He
always said I would be his and no one else, so I waited. But no more. He’s
mine, he promised. I am the only one who will accept him for what and who he
is. He’s imperfect, broken, damaged, faulty, all the things I am. Which makes
us perfect together.  Two broken pieces which can be glued together to make a
perfect whole.

He
will always be mine. I will destroy her no matter what it takes.

And
I see her. I know her. I know her secrets.

The
secrets that will bury her.

Her
past.

FaCade

You meet someone.

You date.

You fall in love.

You marry.

The four simple rules of love….

Wrong!

I’m getting married but I’d never met him before now,
never dated him, never fell in love. I have no access to the memories of the
most magical time of anyone’s life.
My mind won’t allow me to evoke the past. I can’t remember those simple stages
to lead me to the fourth. 

I can’t comprehend why I would have ever wanted to marry
someone like Dante. I should never have passed the first stage, although, I may
have seen him through the eyes of the woman I once was, this me that lives,
breathes here now, can’t understand how we made it to the next stage.

I’m not sure, without memories, how I know that this
voice inside me, telling me I would never have chosen him, speaks some truth, I
just know. He’s controlling, arrogant, callous and violent, and utterly hell
bent on humiliating and degrading me – Like watching me falter, watching me
struggle to comply and be the woman he asked to marry, powers him- as though he
wants to break me piece by piece. Fibre by fibre. Until all that’s here is the
shell he created from a soul that I once owned. 

Now my memories are slowly returning. And they show me a
completely different side to meeting him. Our dates, falling in love. The Dante
haunting me in the shadows of my mind is loving, gentle and utterly enamoured
with me, nothing like the man with me now.

And this is what taunts me. My tender lover turned into a
debauched, cruel sadist who is determined to consume my life, destroy my mind
and murder my spirit.
I am, Star, and just like with some stars in the sky, the light you see is an
echo, a façade.

I am already gone

I am a no one.

Especially to him. To him I am the dark in his desires,
the corrupt in his depravity.
The sin in his immorality.

Ker Dukey

Best
Selling Amazon Author

Empathy

Blake:
I am a brother
I am a police detective
I am a contract killer
I don’t want to love
I don’t want to feel
I don’t want … EMPATHY.
 
They say some people are born with decreased
activity in the front central lobe causing them a deficiency in empathy. Maybe
that’s true about me but whether I was born this way or created in a moment of
evil, empathy was something I didn’t possess until her green eyes met mine in
the mirror and I couldn’t take her life.
 
I didn’t want to feel, didn’t want this woman in
my life complicating how I lived but she was there at every turn. Sent to haunt
me for my sins. Her light so bright she provoked a shadow from everyone she
touched. When a job turns bad quickly altering my life forever I’m forced to
feel. When nothing is making sense I’m forced to face truths I never would
recover from. When life drowns you in its cruelty you don’t know which way the
current will drag you or who you’ll become once you re-surface.
 
Melody:
 
I was a daughter
 
I was a student
I was a victim
Did I have his love?
 
Did I make him feel?
Did I have his empathy?
When the actions of a soulless killer forces
sorrow into my veins I never dreamed the man healing my wounds would be the one
to leave the worst scar. His love would scar my soul. Scars are permanent; I
will never feel the relief from them. Will I learn to live with them, remember
why I have them and learn never to let him close enough to inflict more? Will I
eventually cover them… like tattoos coating them with new memories, new love
and new starts? I didn’t know these answers because the pain was too
suffocating, the only thing I knew was they will always be under the surface
lingering. He had scars too, from his sins. There is nothing that can cover
them, they were too deep, too ugly, too dark and they marked us both forever.

Teaser from Empathy

I burst through the doors, the rain immediately beating
against my skin, the cold droplets soaking me through but not cleansing the
pain away.

Loneliness is suffocating me. I miss them so much I can
barely breathe. There was no leads but they were releasing the bodies to us so
they could be buried. My heart hurts so much. How can people survive loss like
this?

The laughter of a couple running to find shelter is so
deafening, I want to scream at them to notice they have each other, they’re
happy and completely oblivious to the person dying right in front of them. I’m
here, can you see me…? On the inside I’m screaming save me from the depths of
this empty void but on the out my pain is clearly transparent because no way
people could ignore the death of a soul happening right in front of them.
Right?

A shiver rocks through my body making my whole body
vibrate. I stand there drenched, my clothes sticking to my skin, but I can’t
move. The beat from the downpour tap dancing over the ground is keeping me from
picturing them, it’s grounding me to this moment, the drops hitting the
surface, bouncing off, expanding, swallowing, drowning everything beneath it.

“Puya?” Blake, barely visible through the torrent, calls
to me.

What is he doing standing there in the rain? I can feel
his intensity shift the air around us. My heart begins to beat hard, reminding
me it could feel more than just the pain. He affected me in a way that confused
and excited me all in the same moment.

His strides eat up the ground between us. “Why do you
call me that?” I murmur, not sure if I’m dreaming him the way my mind has been
in a constant fog lately. I wouldn’t be shocked if I suddenly awoke in my dorm
alone.

Droplets formed, pebbling over the smooth planes of his
face and in his heavy soaked hair before running a path down his beautiful
features, trickles clung from his dark, long eyelashes. He reached out to me,
capturing my wrist, the pad of his thumb stroking over my small tattoo there.
“Do you want to die?”

The laugh rippled through me. What a question. I thought
I had died. I was living between the two realms. His eyes bore into mine, my
laugh turned quickly into a sob, my hands trying to cover my face from his
probing stare. My legs were weak, I was going to fall in a heap right in front
of him, all my scars on display for him to recoil from.

Who could deal with someone grieving, losing themselves,
drowning in the current of sorrow right in front of them, getting them caught
in the wake of my despair? Strong arms came around me, lifting me into a bridal
hold. I couldn’t look up at him. I reached my arms around his neck and burrowed
my face into the crook there. I needed someone to catch my tears, wipe them
away and just hold me, let me know I was still here.

I didn’t query the fact he knew my dorm room as he opened
it and walked us inside, going straight to my bathroom. I could hear the shower
start and his heavy breathing as he manoeuvred around. His heart was thumping
erratically against my chest.

The warmth from the water made me sigh as it poured over
us still clothed. He lowered us in the cubicle with me on his lap to a sitting
position. “I’m so lonely without them,” I murmur into his neck before lifting
my head to find an intensity so raw in his eyes it flayed me, stripping back
the final layers and exposing my soul completely bare to him. “I needed justice
for them but I’m not going to get it… so I want vengeance. But first I want to
forget for just a little while.” My breathing became pants. I needed to feel
something else, I needed to feel connected. I couldn’t keep dying alone, fading
into nothing, I needed an anchor.

My eyes drop to his lips I feel his already hard cock
beneath my ass. “Take me Blake, make me forget for just a little while, make me
feel something more than the hollowness.” This must have triggered something
inside him because his lips crash against mine hard and mercifulness, his teeth
nipping at my bottom lip. His hand slipped up into my hair, grasping fists
falls, tipping my head back with force. His mouth claims my vulnerable throat,
the build was already catching fire inside my core. He spins me so my back is
against his chest, my ass sitting snug on top of his hard erection. He tugs my
hair, wrenching my head to the side so he can re-claim my neck with his lips,
sucking, teasing me. My hips move on their own, grinding against him to try and
gain some friction to ease the ache throbbing between my legs. His hands grip
my wet tee, ripping it from my body, making me gasp and exposing the lace bra
covering my hard nipples.

Reaching for the buttons on my jeans, he tugs them open
before I feel the warm solid presence of his body leave mine for a few seconds.
He was fumbling above us. Before I could turn to see what he is doing, warm
water eased from above, shelling down on us. I’m about to query him until his
hand wraps around my front, pulling me hard against him once more, leaning me
back and slipping the shower head into my panties.

The warm water massages in waves of continuous ripples
over my sensitive lips, the intensity making me squirm. “Open yourself up for
me,” he groans into my ear.

I’m nervous but so turned on. I need the relief he is
offering. I push at my jeans and panties so they move further down my legs, the
cold air mixed with the heated temperature of the water makes me catch my
breath.

He hisses when I slip my fingers down my pussy, opening
myself for his eyes to devour. His growl and roughness as he tears the cup of
my bra away, make my hard nipple impossibly harder, sending shock waves of
adrenaline pulsing through me. I’m almost vibrating out of my skin.

Moving the shower head to my now exposed clit makes me
quiver, the pressure was perfect and he held it in a way that his thumb was
over the flow and his knuckle was stroking the delicate buddle of nerves. His
other thumb had my nipple trapped between it and his forefinger pinching. I
couldn’t take it the pleasure was incredible and I lost myself to lust so
powerful it took possession of my body and mind.

I writhe against him, his cock prodding against my ass
and lower back. He was thick and long. My needy moans were loud and shameless,
hitting and bouncing off the tiled walls creating an echo of chorused moans, my
hands exploring myself as his did.

The build intensifies the flutter in my lower stomach and
the pulsing inside as my inner walls grasped for relief. “Slip your fingers
inside, show me how much you want me.” His hungry growl rumbled into my ear.

I move my hand over his slowly then down to my opening,
sinking two fingers inside myself. My walls grabbed greedily at me, the
friction from everything all at once making my body cry out with an orgasm like
I had never experienced before, igniting inside me, lighting every nerve in its
path and leaving a tingling tremor in its wake.

The warmth of my cum coats my fingers as I ride every
shudder out. The shower moved away and Blake’s hand gripped my wrist, slipping
my fingers free and raising my hand to his mouth, turning my head to watch in
fascination as his tongue swipes out and then sucks my fingers into his mouth.
The groan thundered through his body reverberating against my back, his lids
fluttering closed. “You’re so fucking pure and sweet.” His lips collided
angrily with mine, my own scent mixed with his exploding on my tongue. It was
too much but not enough, all at once a contradiction in the perfect form.