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“You are amazing,” he whispered. “How the fuck do you do that?”
“It’s you who does it to me,” she forced out, through trembling lips and chattering teeth. “You know that.”
“Oh, no, babe,” he said. “I think you can take credit for this all by yourself.” He gripped her hips, to hold her in place. “I need to finish.”
She braced herself as his deep thrusts met her most sensitive flesh. He went rigid when he finally came, hips pumping against her painfully hard, in absolute silence.
He rolled off her, got to his feet, and fastened his jeans. No lingering, no cuddling. Not that she was surprised. She rolled onto her side, feeling bruised and used in every way. She curled into a ball and covered her face, trying at least to keep the tears silent.
The sadness was huge. She’d felt it before. Something was slipping away from her, something beautiful and ineffable. No clinging or pleading could hold it. The way Mom had slipped away.
There was a hole that could not be patched, and all the joy was draining away into it. All wasted, all lost, all gone.
It broke her heart. Made her so goddamn furious. So desperate.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Nick demanded gruffly.
“Shut up,” she whispered. “You don’t want to know.”
He grunted expressively. “Probably not.”
She dragged herself up till she sat on the edge of the bed with her back to him. She felt heavy, exhausted. Stupid, too, for bringing this down on herself. She knew exactly how unpredictable he could be.
This was the last time she would ever try using sex to sweeten him up. It had blown up in her face like a grenade. She had no way to distance herself from him, and she could not bear his dark moods when they were channeled into the intense, driving intimacy of sex.
Her cell phone began to ring. She turned her head, tried to get up, but she felt too lethargic to move fast. Nick fished it out of the outer pocket of her purse, and wordlessly handed it to her.
She leaped to her feet, mood soaring skyward when she saw the display.Carrie.Oh, thank God, thank God. She hit talk.
“Carrie, am I ever glad you finally—”
“No, my dear. No, it is not Carrie.”
That oozing, faintly accented voice made her sink right back down onto the bed, suddenly boneless and cold. “Who is this?” she whispered.
“You know very well who this is.” The caller chuckled, pleased with himself.
“Zhoglo?” she whispered.
Nick went motionless, eyes wide.
“No names, for now, my dear. Are you alone?”
“What does that matter?” she asked, inanely.
“Because my message is for you alone. Not for your lover.”
“Why do you have Carrie’s phone?” she demanded.
“Why do you think?” His voice sounded almost pitying. “One moment. I will remove the gag just long enough for you to speak with your little sister. Excuse me…just a moment…” The phone was quiet for a second, and Becca heard a muffled, dry cough and a choking sound. A small voice said, “Becky?”
Cold faintness threatened her. The icy pit yawned inside her. Carrie had not called her older sister Becky since she was a tiny girl, four years old maybe. Tears sprang to her eyes, spilled out. She wasn’t big enough to contain this fear. It would shake her to pieces.
“Carrie? Baby? Are you OK?” she quavered.
“Becky?” the little voice croaked. “Becky? Please, I want to go home—”
The voice went away. Zhoglo returned. “That will do for now. Lovely creature, your sister. She’s been my guest for two days now. I confess, I’m getting fond of her. Your brother, too. Fine young man.”
