I reach over him, pressing the button to move his seat back and then I’m straddling his waist, guiding him to my entrance.
“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” He breathes.
I cover his mouth with my hand, “don’t speak.”
I slowly lower myself onto him and moan at the intrusion. It feels good to fuck something I can feel when I’m wet. I pick up my pace, alternating between thrusts and grinding, chasing the orgasm that’s been teasing me for a good hour. I reach my hand between our bodies and he watches as I rub my clit.
“Do not cum,” I snarl as I watch his eyes begin to roll back. “I will fucking gut you, cut your dick off, and shove it down your throat.”
His eyes widen like he realizes I could actually mean what I say-I do-and that maybe he should’ve thought this through more-he should have.
“Okay.” His whisper is hoarse and suddenly sounding a lot like his, the man with the greying hair.
I squeeze my eyes shut but when I feel hands under my skirt and fingers digging into my ass, I lose it. I open my eyes to my hand around this guy’s throat and come almost instantly at the potent fear in them.
As I continue to come, squeezing him, I squeeze his throat, and then watch as he cums, his face turning a deep red. I close my eyes blissfully as that figure in my mind disappears with my release, receding back into the darkest folds of my subconscious, and peace washes over me, even though I know it’ll be short lived.
I release him and watch as he sucks in some air. I plop back in my seat, drop down the visor, and check my makeup in the mirror. He pulls off his condom, ties it up, and opens the door to chuck it out.
Before he can close it, I lean over, “no, you can get out now, too.”
“What?” He looks at me bewildered as he pulls his pants back up.
“Get. Out.” I shove his shoulder hard.
“You’re a crazy bitch!” He exclaims as he jumps out of the seat.
“So I’ve been told.” I nod as he slams my car door.
I circle around him once, my tires burning on the bends, and laugh when he tosses me the finger. I didn’t miss the slight smile on his face though as I sped out of the garage.
I drive aimlessly for a while, my emotions running all over the place, and my mind serene despite the chaos. I rely on certain highs to replace my life’s lows and sex is one of those highs. It drives out the shadows that always seem to creep their way back to the front of my mind and I have no one to help me. Nobody knows what happened to me two years ago after my parents shipped me off to a prestigious reform school for the unruly kids of the wealthy elite.
Why was I shipped off to a reformatory school?
Because I killed my best friend-Neil’s younger sister-Charlotte Jones and no matter how many times I’m told it was an accident, I know the difference. My parents even know the difference since they tossed me away to some boarding school in New York and left me in the hands of the devil himself.
The cemetery comes into view and I sigh with relief. It’s like my brain is on autopilot and knows exactly what I need at this moment. I pull in and drive to our family mausoleum. It stands tall and proud, made of white brick, and lined with angel statues. Our family is in there and one in particular that means the world to me, even in death.
I enter and go straight to her plaque, immediately resting my hand against the cool metal. I try to remember her voice, her scent, but it’s been so long and so many tragic things happened after she left.
Laurann Jennifer Talia (Craven), beloved grandmother and great grandmother.
She was the one person that saw what was really inside of me, my struggle with connections, and my need to be alone. She saw my inner turmoil and made sure to show me how much she loved me despite it.
I was an angry child and I can’t really explain why, but she knew it. She told me I had evil that ran in my veins but unlike my ancestors, I could use it for good. She died before she could show me how and two nights later, that evil poured out of my body, stealing my best friend in its grasp.
“Hi Jenna.” She hated being called Grandma. “I miss you. I’m back home now and I’m sorry I didn’t come see you right away.”
I rest my forehead against the plaque, hoping to feel her, and wishing she would show me a sign of hearing me.
“I’m happy to be home but it doesn’t feel like a home.” I can feel the pressure building behind my eyes. “You took away my home when you left and now I can’t seem to find it.”
I feel the tears slip down my cheeks and I try to gather my emotions.
“We all miss you and not one of us has been the same since you left. How do I do what you told me? How do I take a hold of the evil inside of me and make it good?”
I stay for a while longer, waiting for answers, and when I get none I leave with a heavier heart.
"Ember!"
I groan and turn into my pillow.
It's always the same when my dad walks through the door, he screams out for my mother, and she answers with a laugh. Even after all these years, those two love each other like crazy, and
