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She laughed again and the shard in my chest dug deeper.
“Through all the tears he never said a word. When he had eaten the last spoonful, he got up and walked out, but that day I followed him. He went down the road, searching. I wondered what he was looking for. It was an especially freezing cold night and I was almost giving up with following him aimlessly looking at shop windows and sitting around on park benches, when I saw him finally stop at one of those Biffa recycle dumpsters. I watched as he got into it and made his bed for the night.”
My eyes widen. He was sleeping inside a dumpster.
“I couldn’t take it anymore. I didn’t have much, but I did have a floor in my own home that we could both share. I banged on the dumpster and told him I was there to help him and take him home with me. Of course, he rejected me. I’ll never forget his eyes though. They were full of mistrust. There was no hope in them at all. All his belief in humankind was gone.”
She smiles at me and the shard goes even deeper till it feels like I am starting to bleed on the inside. I know that I was indirectly responsible for this. I clear my throat and sit up. “How did you get him to go with you?”
“I told him that one of the soup kitchen regulars a while back used to sleep in dumpsters the same way he was doing. The disposal truck came however one early morning when he was deeply asleep, lifted the dumpster into the air, and crushed him to death.” She grins. “I exaggerated the situation horribly, of course. I told him his intestines came out of his mouth and his brain came out of his ears.”
I smile weakly at her.
“Dragging him along with me was hard work. A few times he tried to give me the slip, but I never let go. Since then, though, he’s been the one to drag me along with him.” She laughs then and rises to her feet. “Eat a bit more, dear,” she says. “And get as much rest as you can.”
The look she gives me is so apologetic that I can see she is telling me all this to atone in some way for his behavior. There is no doubt he didn’t tell her about the reason for my presence in the house, and perhaps the walls he set up just beyond their care for each other prevents her from asking.
Just as she reaches the door, I lift my head. “Can I ask you another question?”
“Yes, ask away.”
“Why were you at the shelter?”
I have never seen someone’s face fall so suddenly. She manages a smile and responds with tears in her eyes. “I used to be a nurse at St Mary’s hospital down in Lambeth. After many years of being childless I became pregnant. My world lit up. Nothing could go wrong. My dream had come true until I went for a pre-natal care appointment and tested positive for HIV. I had only been with my husband who was negative.
She smiled bitterly. “It meant I contracted it from a patient without my knowledge, but everyone abandoned me, even my father. I was an only child so had no other siblings to depend on. On my own, I pushed out my baby.”
The tears filled her eyes. “Thank God, my baby was born HIV negative, but once that news reached my mother-in-law, she came and took my baby away and I was left on the streets. With the little savings I had I found lodgings in a rundown block, but finding a job I could stomach was much harder, and soon I couldn’t even be bothered. That was how I ended up at the soup kitchen for meals.
I get to my feet. “I have one last question. Do you know how his father died?”
“I do,” she says, “but it took years for him to finally trust me enough to tell me about it. I’m sorry, darling, but it’s not my prerogative to tell his story to anyone else. You’ll have to ask him yourself.”
I nod and collapse back into the chair.
Chapter Fifteen
Brand
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0u5joA0strw
(Try me)
-oh, take me for a little while-
It is late when I arrive back home from a day full of business meetings. I resolved what others might consider revolting situations, but since I don’t suffer from the pangs of conscience other men are burdened with, I had no problems. Once you have torn the liver out of a screaming man, there is not much more that you will not do. Tonight though, I am far from a peaceful mind because far beyond my financial empire and its pesky troubles, is the dark haired, blue eyed, feisty witch under my roof.
I recall our fight last night, the way she slashed out with the knife, and I am suddenly itching for another. Last night I drank myself to sleep, but there is no possibility of going to bed tonight without exorcising this demon. Half out of my mind with exhaustion and lust, I make my way up the stairs. The key is on me. I insert it into the keyhole, and twist the handle open.
She is on her bed and asleep, or perhaps more likely, she is not. I head over to the bottom of the bed and stop to look down on her. The light from the doorway falls on her. She turns then, her hair falling in a dream-like cascade over her eyes and my breath catches in my throat.
It jumpstarts my frustration. How dare she sleep so peacefully? Even the thought of her at calm state strings all the veins in my body tightly with resentment. I kick the frame of the bed before I can stop myself. The sound startles her awake. Her eyes open wide and for a split second there is confusion in them, but the moment they land on me she instantly jerks up. I circle the bed, watching as she inches back towards the headrest her legs raised to her chin.
I want her terrified, quivering, but her eyes are calm and watchful. It unsettles me to no end. “You offered yourself to me last night …” I say, allowing a nasty smile to flower on my lips. “I’ve come to collect.”
I wait with bated breath to see what she will do. I watch her glance at the open door and I relish the thought of her jumping off the bed and attempting her escape from the room. Instead she rises to her knees and takes off the tank top she has on.
For the longest time my eyes cannot leave hers. It is like being caught in the most beautiful storm. It is dangerous and yet it is so breathtakingly awesome you cannot run. When I can finally tear my gaze away it slithers down to her full breasts. In the light from the doorway, I can see her nipples are already swollen and nearly as red as her lips, as if someone has been sucking them all night.
My mouth waters.
How is it possible that this sinfully delicious babe has never been fucked by anyone?
Somewhere, there is a stirring of discomfort. A strange sensation. I thought everything in me was dead but the desire for revenge and more material wealth. Suddenly the memories … oh! the terrible memories come back. Crystal clear, taunting, laughing at me for my weakness. I brought her here to make her suffer not worship her beauty. I rear back. As if she felt the pull back inside me, she lifts her hands and sweeps all of her hair up into a messy mass on top of her head … and there is no going back for me.
I am so hard for her it hurts.
My trousers come off in an instant and are flung across the room, next is my briefs. Her eyes expand at the size of my exposed cock. It juts towards her, thick and greedy. And the goddess waits in her unbearably provocative pose of capitulation and offering.
Never breaking eye contact I put a knee on the mattress. She draws in a sharp breath. Without warning I pull on her legs so she lands on her back with a gasp of surprise. Stationing her beneath me, I align the length of my body with hers. Her eyes are boring into mine, searching … but for what I do not know. My heart races feverishly and my mouth suddenly feels parched. She reaches for my shirt. Her fingers tremble as she fumbles with the buttons.
There is too much of a delay so I slap her hands away and crush my mouth to hers. I almost don’t want to kiss her, because I can already feel myself losing control, years of discipline slipping and falling in nothing, but I cannot not kiss her. It is like an instinct. The way a baby turns its mouth to its mother’s breasts and starts sucking. No one teaches it. It just knows it must do that to survive this harsh world.
The moment I thrust my tongue into her mouth I knew it was a mistake. I’d only intended it to be quick and brutal, just
a little taste, but that hard strong thing inside me immediately starts melting, weakening. Even my arms propping me up on either side of her feel as if they are made of warm wax. I have not latched my lips around a life-giving force, I’ve let my enemy into my heart.
I bruise her lips with the fervent kiss, and I tell myself, I will hurt her as much as she hurts me. The moment her hands come around my neck, I lose all my strength and my body slams on top of her.
