Now I walked the streets of the small California town, coffee in hand, pondering my shit-uation. Seven’s words drummed in my skull like a gypsy’s warning, his laugh like a funeral song. A day later, I still couldn’t make sense of them.
Was he going to help me with GEM?
If so, why?
Taking a sip of my coffee, I tried to unravel it but none of it made sense.
Glancing at my watch, I decided it was time to face Lenny. It was so beyond breakfast that we’d moved into dinner. Wasn’t that enough time? As I made my way to my car, my phone buzzed. A pi
cture popped up on the screen and the number belonged to me, well, one of my burner phones. I knew the skin of her leg immediately. Even if Lenny left me, I would never escape her. I had every inch of her mapped out in my mind, from the curve beneath her knee to the self-harm scars on her wrists and the macabre tattoo on her ribs.
So it took less than a second to recognize the body part and whom it belonged to. Where she was, however, was not so easily deduced.
I ground my teeth as I typed out the text: What the fuck are you doing?
Her behavior lately was beginning to surpass erratic and enter full-on dangerous. Lenny sent me another picture, this one of her stomach. I could almost make out the curve of her pussy. I bit my lip so hard I drew blood. I couldn’t tell where she was, but she definitely wasn’t at the safe house.
I had explicitly told her to stay at the cabin. It wasn’t safe outside. I had a group of angry assholes trying to kill me and anything I loved. Then again, Lenny never really took orders well.
Where the fuck are you, Lennox? I typed back. In lieu of responding, Lenny sent me another picture. It was of her cunt, with one finger deep inside. I pulled myself to the side and into an alley. My cock was rock hard and I didn’t want to become that creep on the sidewalk, nursing a hard-on for everyone to see.
Lennox sent me another picture, this time of her entire body. I studied the picture carefully, trying to ignore the ache in my balls. I looked for any sign that I knew where she was. She was teasing me.
My eyes zeroed in on the background details, the walls, the paint, the windows. Then it hit me.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I screamed, catching the attention of a passerby. A boy no older than twelve stopped and stared at me eyes agape. “Stay in school,” I mumbled, brushing past him. I knew exactly where Lenny was, and it wasn’t good.
“Do you think this is a fucking joke?” I yelled into the empty, dilapidated hotel, stepping over the remains of the door I’d kicked down just yesterday. My voice bounced off the walls as if returning the question back at me. “Get your ass out here Lennox.”
My phone pinged and I picked it up. I saw a picture of Lennox bent over, her cunt lips spread wide for a steel bar. I growled, not sure if I was pissed off or horny as fuck, and advanced, peering into the darkness. I’d been there only hours before, rescuing her. I’d made the dirty cement and peeling wallpaper weep blood just so I could pull her out of this shit hole. And she came back?
Why the fuck did she come back?
I screamed again, feeling completely helpless and pissed off. The responders had done a good job of cleaning the place up, but I could still see stains of blood. The thought that it could have been Lenny’s blood had me ready to punch a hole in the wall.
The thought that she had willingly returned…
I followed the steps I had shot my way through, feeling a sense of déjà vu, dread, and complete rage. I took the steps slowly, my legs weighed down by the memories of the day before, of the fear that I would find Lenny dead. Also there was the gravity that if I continued and didn’t find her dead, but a willing participant, that I would kill her myself; I would throw her against the wall so she would finally see some sense, see the blood I had put there in place of hers.
When I reached the top, I saw her.
She was on the ground in the middle of the hallway, thighs wide with a bar between her legs. She looked up at me, as if she expected me and no one else. As if she hadn’t been there only hours before in dire peril.
She didn’t move or make an attempt to flee when I advanced up the ratty carpet, peeling to show cement. I felt she should flee. Even though I’d saved her the day before, right then I felt like I could kill her. Naked from the waist up, her skirt bunched around her hips, she stared me down.
I grabbed her by the hair. “The fuck are you doing?”
“Getting off.” She pushed back at me but I kept my grip on her hair tight. With my other hand I unzipped my pants. If she wanted to get off, then fine. Fuck it, whatever, let’s do this—with one searing and blistering caveat, though, that would stop her from ever doing something like this again.
I pushed her back down into the dirty floor. “You like this?” I demanded as her red hair spread around her face like some kind of fucking halo, which just pissed me off more. I held her down at the neck, my other hand wrapped tightly around my now thick and turgid cock.
“Open,” I commanded. Her eyes caught mine, but only briefly, and then they closed as she opened her mouth. Good girl, I said in my head as I lowered my cock into her mouth. Today, I would only say it in my head.
I went slowly, as the size of it stretched her pink lips around my own pink flesh. I paused for a second so I could watch the sight. Then I punished her.
I made her take more than she could, and then I made her take even more. I didn’t know what the fuck she was thinking, coming back to this place, but I didn’t want to examine it. I forced my cock into her mouth, I took it out, and I forced it back in.
I felt her teeth graze the skin so I tightened my hold on her neck.