Page 34 of Tempting Bad

Each thrust, each push…

Fuck her.

Harder, faster…

“Just like the perfect little whore that she is. Her greedy pussy would come for anyone.”

Everything echoed off the walls, her screams, her tears, my pounding into her mercilessly.

“The only thoughts he had were… I hate you.”

She was crumbling, she was breaking; exactly how I wanted her to. She was fucking pathetic.

Now finish her…

“Send me the bill.”

She collapsed down the wall, blood trailed behind her, leaving a stain of hurt and betrayal. I frantically shook my head. “No… no… no… what the fuck?” I shuddered, stepping back, but my eyes caught something shining in my hand.

“Oh my God!” I screamed, the knife falling from my hand onto the floor.

“No… no… no… I didn’t want this, I didn’t do this!” I bawled, getting down to the ground, and pulling her body to me.

“I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… please… please… you have to forgive me. You have to forgive me, Bambi… please… God, forgive me…”

I kissed her all over, wanting to make it go away, but nothing worked.

“Somebody help me! Please somebody help me!” I bawled.

“I have to go… I’ll be back with help…” I softly placed her on the ground, and watched her beautiful body mold to the floor.

Her Bambi eyes staring back at me.

So dilated.

So big.

No more light.

No longer bright.

No longer shining.

Lifeless…

I killed her.

I looked down at my hands; they’re shaking and covered in her blood. I immediately turned to the sink, placing my hands under the water, but nothing helped. It didn’t wash away my sins. It only made it worse.

My father and Brooke, my father and Brooke, my father and Brooke.

I’m a bad person, I have both their blood on my hands.

“What the fuck did I do?” I trembled, my voice breaking as tears poured out of my eyes. I slowly picked my head up, and stared into the mirror.

It wasn’t my reflection.

It was him…

It was my father.

I’m my father.

“Nooooooo!” I screamed out, sitting straight up in my bed with sweat pouring off every inch of me. I instantly jumped out of bed, getting to my feet, and furiously wiping off the wetness. It was her blood; her blood was all over me, just like my dad’s.

I’m not a good person.

His blood runs through my veins.

He made me.

It is who I am.

I couldn’t run away from it any longer.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I repeated, pacing into my bathroom, needing to look in the mirror. I was gasping for air by the time I made it in there; it took me three tries to get the light to turn on; I was shaking that badly. I gazed into the mirror, and I saw myself. I saw the man I am, the man I’ve become.

“Calm down… it was just a dream… calm down, Devon,” I said to myself, trying to govern my breathing. I splashed water all over my face, and it trailed down my neck. “Jesus Christ.” I shook my head again, desperately trying to remove the torrid images from my mind, and then used a towel to dry all over.

I eyed myself one more time, and made sure it was still my reflection staring back at me. At first I thought it was my mind playing tricks on me, but then I heard it a few more times, my doorbell ringing.

What happened next was one giant blur. Ysabelle was standing at my front door, and she looked like Brooke. Her straight hair all over her face, the tight clothes that hugged each curve of petite body; even the goddamn smell of her.

But it wasn’t that… it was the look in her eyes.

A deer in headlights.

Bambi.

She jumped into my arms, and I held her closely to my body, her heart placed securely on top of mine. She felt like silk.

So warm.

So soft.

So beautiful.

This was real.

The feel of her.

The smell of her.

It was all real.

I wanted to take away the pain. I wanted to pretend I didn’t feel like I was dying anymore. I wanted it all to go away, and be swept away with waves on the shoreline. It’s as if the world stopped moving, and everything proceeded in slow, precise, motion.

She pulled away from me and looked profoundly into my eyes. I saw the little girl that came to me when she was sixteen years old. The one I always promised I would protect, no matter what. The woman she grew up to be…

The one I did save.

The one I did help.

The one I did rescue.

Everything I couldn’t do for Brooke was staring me in the fucking face, looking deep into my eyes, and thanking me. She didn’t have to express any words, the gratitude translated through her penetrating stare. The confusion and hurt that I felt for someone that I ended up destroying, and for a moment, I was at peace. The voices, the regret, the pain, the hurt, the images, my regret, it was all gone.

Muted.

Placed on hold.

I pulled her hair away from her face to admire her Bambi eyes, and she leaned in and kissed me. I’m not going to lie; it shocked me. It started off innocently enough, until her tongue made its way into my mouth, and the taste of her reminded me of Brooke. She moaned into my mouth, and the rest was history.

I didn’t know why she came to me, all I knew was that I wanted to forget, and I had a feeling that she did too.

So we used one another.

We took each other’s clothes off, barely making it into my bedroom. We explored each other’s bodies in a way I never imagined would happen.

She panted, “Please… please… please… make it go away… make it all go away… please…”

It was so desperate.

So dark.

Exactly like my dream.

I could help her.

I could take away her pain.

I could rescue her.

I could save her.

It was so comforting for me, and in that moment it’s what I needed. It may have been wrong, it may have been right. I didn’t think about the consequences. I let myself live in that second, where we each took what the other had to give; to offer. Consoling each other the best way we knew how. I did with each caress, push and pull, kiss, movement, breath, sigh, groan and moan. Every last bit of it was replaced with tender love and care.

I made her safe.

I made her feel loved.

I made her feel wanted.

For an instant, I was so utterly caught up in the moment that I thought I might have loved her.

Was it Ysabelle all along?

She came with her release, and I quickly followed. We locked eyes… it was gone.

I saw Brooke, and I knew she saw Sebastian.

She broke down crying, almost taking me right there with her.

“Shhh… shhh… shhh… it’s okay,” I whispered as she was cradled in my arms. “That’s it… take deep breaths… in and out… yes. Just like that. Breathe in and breathe out. Shhh… you’re okay. I’m here… everything is going to be okay, Kid.”

She moved away from me, taking the sheet with her to cover herself. “Oh my God, what the fuck did I just do?”

“It’s okay.”

“It is NOT okay, Devon; it is so far from okay, it’s like on the other side of the planet,” she irrationally laughed.

“Kid, I think you’re having a panic attack or maybe a nervous breakdown. You just need to relax,” I coaxed.

“So I decide fucking you was the answer. Jesus Christ… I’m such a whore.”

“Stop. Stop talking about yourself like that. I read it wrong, I thought… I don’t know what I thought,” I explained, shaking my head. “But it’s my fault, too. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you. It takes two to tango.”   “It doesn’t matter! We just had sex. I’m so fucked. Sebastian is never going to forgive me.”

“Kid, you and him aren’t together. You didn’t cheat on him,” I reasoned.

“It doesn’t fucking matter. It’s you. And me. Why would I do this? Why would I fuck up the only good thing in my life? I’m not a good person. I don’t know who I am, Devon.”

“You need to calm down, you’re talking in circles. I can’t understand you.”

“I need to go.”

She jumped off the bed to find her clothes, and swiftly put everything on, running for the door. I flew out in front of her, blocking her exit with my jeans barely on.

“You’re not going anywhere, you can barely talk, let alone drive,” I rationalized.

“Stop trying to save me!”

“Ysabelle, this isn’t about saving you. I’m not prince charming; I just fucked my best friend, and didn’t even realize that she wasn’t in the mental capacity to do so. Do you have any idea how awful I feel? I’m sorry.”

“This isn’t your fault. It’s mine. I came on to you.”

“And I accepted it.” I paused. “Just relax, we both fucked up. Equally. It’s not a big deal. Now calm down, take a seat, and tell me what the hell is going on. Please,” I added.

She nodded.

I pointed toward my living room, and she went and sat on the couch. I came in a few minutes later with tea and water.

“It’s chamomile,” I said.

She drank the whole thing in one gulp like it was a shot of whiskey.

“What happened?”

She sighed. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning usually works well.”

She proceeded to tell me one fucked up situation that I could barely comprehend. It was like one thing after another, and I thought I was in some warped version of The Twilight Zone. Madam wanted her to have VIP; she had wanted her to have it since day one. I tried my best to listen, knowing that was what she needed from me. Even though in the back of my mind… I wondered if she would take it. The eeriness of my nightmare was gone, but I knew it would come back.

They always came back.

“What are you going to do now?” I sincerely questioned.

“Obviously, I fuck my best friend. I mean, why not…let’s just add icing on the cake.” She placed her head in her lap. “I’m so fucked up.”

“No… I am. In a weird, fucked up sort of way, I’m glad it happened. I love you, Kid. I always will. I think somewhere along the way, I confused that love into something that it’s not. It got twisted.”

She frowned.

“I slept with Brooke. Let me rephrase that… I’ve been sleeping with Brooke since that night at the club.”

Her mouth dropped open. “Oh my God! She hasn’t said a word.”

“Well… at least that answers that.”

“Brooke is—”

“I know what Brooke is. I’m so in love with her, and sleeping with you just made me realize that. I’ve never met anyone like her. There’s something beautifully broken about her. I can’t stay away.”

“I don’t know what to tell you. How often do you see her?”

“Often enough.”

“Are you going to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Are you?”

“Devon, please… I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I can take care of myself, Kid.”

She nodded.

“Think of it this way, I got to fuck two VIPs, and I didn’t have to pay,” I chuckled.

Her head jerked back, wide-eyed. “Oh my God! You’re not paying for Brooke?”

“That’s your response?” I grinned. “Of course not.”

“Ever?”

“No, not once.”

“And she knows that?”

“Yeah. She wanted it that way.”

“Brooke? She wanted you to not pay?”

I nodded and she laughed. I could tell she was caught off guard with everything I had disclosed. I didn’t blame her; I would have been too. I missed Brooke. I missed everything about her. A huge part of me was missing, gone. A part I never knew existed, until she came into my life. She brought life back into me, or maybe I never had one until her.

“What time is it?” she asked, taking me away from my thoughts.

I looked at my phone. “It’s almost midnight.”

“I left Chance at Brooke’s house; I need to go let him out. She’s probably wondering where the hell I am.”

She walked toward the door and I followed.

“It’s not going to be weird now, right? You know… now that we’ve… you know…” she mumbled, facing me.

“Seen each other naked?” I casually replied.

“That and...”

“Fucked?”

“Yeah,” she answered, looking away.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you shy and nervous? Is it because my cock is so huge?”

She smiled. “No, that was a nice surprise.”

“You did come…twice.” I stretched my arms. “Just saying.”

She slapped me in the chest, and I fell backward with an oomph.

“Let’s pretend like it didn’t happen. Think we could do that?”

I bit my bottom lip. “Damn…I don’t know, Kid, that booty and that pussy…”

She gasped; surprised that I talked to her like that.

“I’m kidding. To be honest, it was like having sex with my sister.”

“Eww… now you’re being disgusting.”

I rolled my eyes. “Come here.” I pulled her into a tight embrace. “I love you. Nothing, and no one is going to change that. You and me, we’re together till the end. Got it?” I whispered into the side of her neck.

She took a deep breath, knowing I meant every word.

She left my house, and not even an hour later I was walking outside to Hurricane Sebastian. Which turned into one giant shit show, where we beat the shit out of each other, even though I tried to reason with him that it wasn’t what he thought. I couldn’t blame the man; I would have done the exact same thing. So I let him get a few good punches in, and gave him the satisfaction he needed.

It didn’t help with the heated exchange of words between Ysabelle and him. It wasn’t pretty, it was one of the hardest scenes I had ever seen break down before me, and I had seen some heavy disturbing shit. But nothing compared to when a woman was crying over a man, begging for forgiveness.

Nothing.

He left her crumbling and broken on my front lawn, exactly how I had done to Brooke six weeks ago. I picked her up and carried her into my bedroom, where she bawled her eyes out all night long in my arms.

The real fucked up part.

It gave me satisfaction to comfort her.

When I knew I didn’t do that…

For Brooke.

Ysabelle walked into my condo looking disheveled, her dog, Chance, was driving me insane. She didn’t say much, and I didn’t ask, but I could tell that something was wrong. I didn’t want to pry myself into her business, unless she wanted to tell me. I let her be, as she leashed her dog and told me she was taking him to the dog park near my place.

I nodded, and held in my tongue for the questions I wanted to ask. She left. Sebastian’s name lit up my phone, maybe ten, fifteen minutes later. He asked me where she was, and I told him…

I never imagined what would happen next.

Ysabelle came barreling through my condo with Chance.

“Oh my God, what’s going on?” I asked, watching her frantically try to take off Chance’s leash.

“Sebastian! He’s on his way to Devon’s! I have to get over there.”

“What? Why is he going over there?” I questioned, confused.

She shook her head while standing. “Because I’m a fucking idiot! Can you please watch Chance?”

I nodded. “Of course.”

“Fuck… Brooke,” she breathed out, placing her hand on my

kitchen counter for support, and finally looking at me. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I would never hurt you, I’m so fucking sorry. Please... I need you to know that I love you,” she urgently apologized.

“I know that, Bella,” I coaxed, trying to keep up with the chaos in front of me.

“Just remember that okay? I have to go.” She hugged me and ran out my door.

I spent the next hour pacing my condo with Chance at my heels. I was a nervous wreck, and I ended up passing out on my couch. The next morning I took Chance for a long walk, hoping that when I got back Ysabelle would be there. She wasn’t.

Before I knew it, I was standing at his front door.

Devon.

“Jesus Christ!” I yelled, when he opened the door, shocked by the black eye, busted lip, and bruises on his torso. “What the fuck happened?”

He took a deep breath, both of us caught off guard that I was there, but there was something else in his eyes that I couldn’t put my finger on. “Long night,” was all he said.

“Is Ysabelle here?” I nervously asked.

He shook his head no. “She just left.”

I lowered my eyebrows and pointed from his face to his body. “Is that Sebastian’s handy work?”

He nodded, remorseful.

Why wasn’t he talking?

And just like that… it clicked, all the blood drained from my face. I suddenly felt cold and detached like I was there, but I wasn’t. By the look on his face, he knew it too.

“I get it…” I whispered loud enough for him to hear. “Wow… that’s why she was apologizing to me, and that’s why you look like you’ve been in a boxing match. Wow…” I repeated, torn, confused, shocked, and hurt… really hurt.

“It’s not what you think,” he simply stated.

“It’s not?” I asked, cocking my head to the side.

He shook his head no, still not being able to find the words to say to me, but his composure and eyes did the talking for him.

He hated himself.

“Was this payback? Were you trying to get even with me? Leaving me wasn’t enough for you?”

He winced, and opened his mouth to say something, but I put my hand up, stopping him. I didn’t want to hear what he had to say.

It wouldn’t have changed anything.

It wouldn’t have made it better.

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