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‘We need a plan to ramp it up. Make him so on edge that he’ll spill everything he knows.’
‘I’m going to shower,’ I said, struggling to hide my feelings. I’d thrust them below the surface for years, why now? I just needed some space. To let it blow over.
‘Of course. Sorry, I should have thanked you for dealing with the mess. Go, shower. We can conspire together later.’
I forced a smile onto my face with a nod. It wasn’t her fault I felt the way I did. She’d made it clear enough over the years that she saw me as a friend, a co-conspirator and fellow vengeance seeker. Our past bonded us, but she didn’t have the same depth of feelings as I did for her.
It was fine.
Torturous, but I’d deal with it as I always did.
Shutting my bedroom door behind me, I clicked the lock into place, and without even moving into the space, I opened my pants and fisted my dick. Her pretty face flashed in my head, her scent still lingering within my nose. With a grunt, I imagined her spread over my bed, my mouth bringing her the pleasure she needed. I’d spend all day there, showing her with every stroke of my tongue how much she meant to me. How worthy she was of my desire and love.
I’d seen her used by countless men over the years. Had to stand by while they systematically destroyed the person she was and created the shell of the woman she had become. I’d tried to protect her, but I was expendable; there to be used in a different way. I wanted to have the chance to heal those wounds, the ones I couldn’t stop from happening at the time. To pay my penance with her soft sighs.
My cock throbbed between my fingers as I stroked it roughly, chasing the release that would let me wear my mask for another few hours. To temper the beast who wanted to kill anyone who dared to look at Harriet.
But my imaginary world distorted as Alfie’s face came into view, his mouth beside mine, vying for her pleasure. Opening my eyes, I shook my head, trying to dislodge that fucker from my mind. But he persisted. Even my own imagination tortured me. The orgasm was so close, and I needed it to function without exploding with fury. In my mind, Alfie smirked at me before sliding down to the floor while I continued to taste my girl. I imagined spreading her wide over my fingers, feeling her contract around them at the sensation of my tongue. I imagined a hot, wet mouth covering my dick as I did so.
‘Shit, no,’ I whispered, not wanting to go there. But the thought was a dirty, sordid little nugget that I couldn’t shake. I could fuck his throat raw with all the anger I’d never be able to give to Harriet. I could bring her sweet pleasure while hurting him for daring to enjoy her. The muscles in my forearm tensed as I thrust my fist down over my cock, my breath coming in rapid pants. I gave in to the filthy thoughts, letting myself imagine how satisfying it would be to slide my dick deep down his throat while Harriet came screaming my name. Tasting her juices as I deposited my own without a care.
Sweat pricked along my spine, my other hand scraping against the door behind me. Hips jerking, I came hard, white ropes of cum spurting out and blanketing the floor at my feet.
With the conclusion came clarity. Disgust at letting my dirty thoughts include the fucker who had hurt Harriet. Cum dripped from my fingers as I leaned my head back against the door and caught my breath.
Outside my room, I could hear Harriet singing to herself in the kitchen area, another reminder of being so close to her, but her never seeing me in the same way I saw her.
Looking down at the mess, I sighed.
The relief sent calm through my veins, compressing the heat that had filled them upon seeing Alfie’s face wet with her orgasm.
I’d be able to exist in her orbit for another day.
FOURTEEN
HARRIET
Alfie lay on his mattress watching me. His gaze boring into me made me itch to look at him, but I curled up on the couch and doom-scrolled on my phone instead. Focusing on the anonymous forums where people vented or celebrated their lives was one of my few pointless hobbies. Mostly pointless, anyway. Sometimes, I saw people in dire domestic situations, and on occasion would see to it that a tragic accident befell their perpetrators.
Mostly, I looked at videos of animals being silly and people fretting over the most mundane things. I’d never been able to use social media—I’d have had no one to add anyway—due to my underground status.
‘Do you know he hated me?’ Alfie said. I fought the urge to look at him. ‘My dad. He and my mum couldn’t have kids, and he so desperately wanted a son. So, they acquired me. I don’t even know where from. There are no official papers. I just seem to have appeared one day. I found that out when I was eleven.’
Although I continued to ignore him, it would be a lie to say that my interest wasn’t piqued.
‘Over the years, he grew harsher with me. I was geeky, I liked computers and comics and hated hunting and sports. I hung out with girls rather than boys. I think he worried I was gay. I guess he was only partially wrong. One day, he told me he should have picked better. Mum was already gone by then, and it was just him and me rattling around the castle when he was there. Which wasn’t often. My dad’s butler and housekeeper, Grieves, basically raised me. Didn’t judge me.’
I swallowed as I pictured Alfie as a boy, living a life of rejection. My childhood had been the opposite. Filled with love and support.
‘As I progressed through my teens, he wanted me to take over Rosenhall, to become a real man. Everything I did became a personal affront to him. That night, he told me I had two choices; become a man in public, so he could be proud of me, or leave. You don’t know how many times I wish I’d had the balls to leave. To tell him to fuck off. But it meant losing everything; my home, Grieves, everyone I knew. I chose the coward’s choice and buckled.’
Letting my eyes meet his felt like a weakness, but I couldn’t help it.
‘The night I hurt you, I’d taken a bunch of pills and drank myself silly. I’d barely had more than a single glass of wine before then. It was the only way I could force myself into losing my virginity in front of the crowd. I didn’t even consider who I was fucking, I was barely present enough to perform, never mind thinking outside my own head. Afterwards, I blacked out and awoke to Grieves forcing his fingers down my throat to make me puke up what I’d taken. For the first time, my dad told me he was proud of me. That I did good. The praise felt like a feast after being starved my entire life.’
I held my tongue, my stomach lurched as I was thrown back to that night. Into his hands grabbing me while his father sneered at me. Into his lacklustre thrusts that lasted all too long for a virgin. I’d long presumed it was disinterest on his part, like I wasn’t even enough to enjoy. He’d been in a haze. I hated to admit it, but his words made sense.
‘I stumbled down a road of seeking his approval. A sick, twisted road of sexual depravity, always seeking something more extreme so he’d thump me on the back and tell me I did well. It’s fucked-up. I know that. But pleasing people became a drug in its own way. Bringing pleasure made me feel needed, even if only for a night. I crave that validation every day. It chases away the loneliness for a little while.’ Alfie cleared his throat.
