The Sordid Promise (27 page)

He furrowed a brow and shook his head with a mischievous smile. He dropped me on the floor with a hard thud. Yanking my legs down and around, he positioned me to lay to my side. From behind me, he laid beside me and entered me. His forearm weaved underneath me and pulled my thighs up until my knees met my chest. With his other hand, he clasped my neck. My legs and body were locked in position, completely trapped in his hold.

The harsh methodic nature of his thrusts, erected volatile shivers from my form. The look in his eyes as he forced me to gaze at him was nothing short of sheer carnal desire.

His hand loosened the hold on my neck, sliding around my body, it palmed my behind. He rode me hard, flogging my bottom after every other thrust.

“You like getting fucked like this?”

The burning sensation ripped up my spine, leaving me barely able to breathe. “Yes, Eric,” I soughed.

“Make me think you need, Nik.” He slapped my behind again, hard.

I jerked, just barely, as he confined my legs with a tighter grip and pounded inside me at a drug-inducing pace. “I need you to fuck me,” I whimpered.

He hit me again in the same area several times. I was tied to his touch, unable to escape the pounding.

“I need you to fuck me, Eric, please…” I cried as the fire burned me hot. My legs trembled against his hold. “I need you come inside me,” I moaned, almost choking on the words as the burn took control of my body. “P-please c-come inside me. I need you, Eric.” He stroked harder, deeper, hitting against the extent of my canal, tearing through me, making me weep. “Yes…oh god…fuck me!”

He reached around and began to strum my clit. I cursed, closing my eyes as my body shook. “Open your fucking eyes, Nik. I want to watch you come.” He leaned forward and bit my lips. I obeyed, opening my eyes. His stare was burning…sensational. I could see how badly he wanted me in his eyes. I could see how much being inside me served as a drug for him. His smoldering stare served as an additive to the feeling creeping inside me.

He flogged my behind, ushering in a flood that consumed me.

“I’m gonna…c-come.” My eyes shut so tightly, I felt light-headed. My body tensed and shuddered. He continued to stroke inside me harshly, deeply, while circling his fingers around my pulsating nub. My nerve endings were inundated with a sensory overload. Nothing I said made sense as I screamed out declarations of my pleasure.

“Fuck, Nik, you’re so sexy,” he groaned in my ear through a palpable strain. “If I could spend all day doing nothing other than making you come, I would.”

Opening my watering eyes, I weakly whispered, “Come inside me.”

“Is that what you want?”

I nodded. “Please,” I quavered.

“You fucking got it, baby.” He suddenly grimaced and collapsed against my body with rigid thrusts. He withdrew, allowing what he left to flow from my sore, throbbing canal.

I took a longer shower than normal. Extra care was tantamount in the shower when I cleaned myself. He made sure to make me so sore, I remembered what he did to me every time my thigh muscle flexed, I laughed, or sat down. It made me slightly giddy to be struck with a lasting pain.

I dried off and threw on a cut neck T-shirt and stepped inside the bedroom.

Eric was nude while laying half under the sheets with his arm behind his head while staring at the ceiling. I crawled on the bed and straddled his lap. Running my fingers against his defined pectorals and down to his abdomen, tracing the outlines. I fingered his tattoo and the name as I wondered if it was his uncle’s name. I contemplated the significance of the angel wings in the midst of torture.

He broodingly fixed his eyes on me. “Where did you go today?”

“Huh?”

“Your hair…doesn’t smell like it usually does.”

“I…changed shampoos?” I offered an explanation that didn’t make sense. I didn’t wash my hair every day, so that couldn’t be the reason. I didn’t, however, get what the big deal was.

He sat up quickly, scaring me with the look he cast my way. “Don’t. Fuck. With. Me.”

I wracked my brain, trying to remember why I would smell like anything other than the perfume I wore. Trent. I’d forgotten about our short visit yesterday. “I ran into Trent at the coffee shop.”

“And?”

I shrugged. “And…nothing. We talked for less than half a second and he was on his way.”

He grabbed both of my wrists in his hands, crushing them with his painful grip.

“Eric, you’re hurting me,” I whispered.

“Isn’t that what you like?” He grabbed me and tossed me back. He pinned my arms above my head with one hand while his other hand clasped my neck. He hovered over me, regarding me with darkening eyes. “You’re not to see him again. And since you have so much fucking time on your hands, you’re no longer allowed to be on your schedule. Consider yourself under new employ. You’re now on my time clock.” His nails dug into the flesh of my wrists. The grip he had on my neck strengthened. “Do you get me, Nikki?”

“Y-your schedule?” I croaked.

“You’ll find out exactly what that means in the morning.” His bottom lip disappeared between his teeth. Clasping my neck, he crushed my larynx. “Do. You. Get. Me?”

“Yes,” I gasped.

He loosened his hold. “Spread your legs.”

“I—“

He turned my lower half to the side and slapped my sore behind with a hard, firm thwack. “Spread your fucking legs.”

My bottom lip quivered from the lingering pain he left on my behind. Stuck in his piercing gaze, I tossed my top leg up and gaped my legs.

With an insidious grin, he slipped down my body. His mouth disappeared beyond my pubic hair.

“Morning.” I was met with a neat smack on my behind as a wakeup call.

I jerked up, looking at the time. “It’s seven a.m., Eric,” I groaned. “I don’t do seven a.m. wake up calls.”

“Today you do. You’re getting up, taking Maisha for a walk, taking in the trades, and looking for new clients for your graphics business.”

I sank deeper into the bed and closed my eyes. He’d kept me up all night last night. I’d only had a total of one hour of sleep. My body was exquisitely sore; the last thing I wanted to do was get out of bed. “Eric,” I whined, “no.”

“Get up.” He smacked me harder on my sore behind, making the painful throb inside my sex worsen.

“Owe,” I yelped and slipped up. “Are you going to police me to make sure I do everything you put on my—“

He placed my tablet on my lap. “Your schedule.”

I looked over it. Every single thing was scheduled. My shower, walks, working hours, and free time were divvied up. “It’s…busy.”

“Exactly.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “No, I’m not going to stick around all day and police you. You have an honor code. As in mark off things as you finish them. If you lie to me or don’t complete them…well.” His eyes slanted at me. “Get up, Nikki. I’m not going to tell you again.”

I stood drowsily to my feet. “I’m up. I’m up.”

“Take the back trail when you walk Maisha.”

“Why?”

He flexed a brow and never answered my question.

I moved to the bathroom, to take a shower that I had thirty minutes to take.

I prepared Maisha ready for our walk before I headed out the front door. My mind was on autopilot and forgot about what I was warned not to do. A small crowd was gathered in front of Mrs. Hobbins’s house. They chatted with one another while wearing solemn looks on their faces. Another neighbor held Mrs. Hobbins’s snappy dog.

“What happened?” I asked as I approached the crowd.

A neighbor looked at me, scowled, and turned her head, leaving my question unanswered.

A pleasant-faced brunette came to my side. “I know you two were close. This is going to be hard to hear.”

“We…weren’t close.”

She nodded sullenly. “Mrs. Hobbins passed away. They think it was a heart attack, but they’re not sure. She passed away sometime last night. I’m so sorry to be the one to tell you.”

“W-what hospital did they take her to?”

“Strong, I think.”

No longer having the desire to take Maisha for a walk, I let her relieve herself in the backyard, and took the Land Rover to the hospital. I wanted to be in my own world, but bits and pieces of a world I didn’t want to involve myself in were crashing around me. Eric couldn’t be my drug if he was more unstable than me. Slightly dark and damaged was okay to a certain point. The fact that Eric was late last night wasn’t just my paranoia running away with wild ideas. If he’d done what I’d suspected, his damage would deem him as the equivalent of digesting a slow-acting poison.

I called Janet on the way to the hospital and bribed her into meeting with me, so I could get in to see Mrs. Hobbins’s body. I needed to see something—maybe a puncture wound. Something…incriminating.

The look Eric cast at Mrs. Hobbins the last time I saw her—wasn’t a look you’d give someone you were going to let go on with their unfounded hatred for you.

I went to the basement, expecting to be met with the conspicuously nervous Janet. Instead, in blue scrubs and a white jacket, waiting just outside the security door for me, stood Eric.

My chest and legs felt heavily weighted. I suddenly couldn’t move. My mouth moved without my brain telling it to.

“Don’t say a fucking word,” he stated with a quiet anger. “I was pulled out of trauma for this bullshit. I know what you’re doing here. I’m going to be the one to show you what you’re looking for.” He nodded to the woman behind the window who buzzed us both in. We walked down the linoleum hall. The tension was palpably thick. I lacked the ability to directly regard him, the feeling seemed mutual.

He used his security badge to open the heavy metal door; a badge with his name, picture, and the hospital insignia. It was a small thing that served to make me feel increasingly guilty about my doubts.

After opening the door for me, he nodded for me to go inside.

A few metal slabs were occupied. Metal drawers were along the walls, and drainage pipes were implanted inside the tile floor. Looking at it all, it called to mind what we’re reduced to when we died. The place reeked with a foul smell.

The woman who had been behind the window met us both with a strange smile. “How ya' doing this fine afternoon, Dr. Brenton?” she asked.

“Been better,” he shot shortly at her.

The more proof that flooded in, the more awkward I felt about discounting him. The more I felt that…maybe I
was
losing my mind to my paranoia; thinking things that weren’t true, from people who had nothing better to do but to stir my head about.

The attendant strode over to the slab at the far right. She peeled back a portion of the cover, revealing a sallow-faced Mrs. Hobbins. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” She squinted as she looked between Mrs. Hobbins’s corpse and me. “So…is she a close relative?”

“Sandy, can you give her some privacy?”

“Of course. Of course.” She patted Eric’s shoulder and retreated back down the hall.

He moved over to her feet and flipped up the cover to reveal her toes. “Look to your fucking heart’s desire, Nik.”

I slowly walked over, keeping my distance. I visually searched between her mildly rigor mortised toes, finding nothing of the ordinary. Roughly, he pulled me to look at her hands and arms. I found nothing there, either. “This…doesn’t prove anything. I’m not exactly a professional.”