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She didn’t respond. The room was still dark since my room didn’t get much sunlight. Turning on the lamp on my nightstand I crunched next to her to see better. She was pale, her face was next to her own vomit, and a needle was still stuck to her arm. For a second, I didn’t do anything but close my eyes and breath, giving myself just a second of peace before forcing my mind to work.
I stood up, pulling out my phone out of my jeans pocket and called 911. I sat on the floor, closed my eyes, and waited as my tears silently fell to my cheeks. They say when your heart is exhausted the sweat runs from your eyes and that was right. I was exhausted from this life, from everything. I sighed, forcing my thoughts into another direction since the destination of them wasn’t to a bright place. Thankfully, the paramedics came so much faster than I thought, and we headed toward the hospital. I didn’t understand what they were saying except that my mom was alive. For a second, I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed, but I shook myself. She was my mother.
The doctors surrounded my mother the moment we stepped into the ER. I was pushed aside to wait, there was nothing else I could do. I sat on the chair in the waiting room, looking at the familiar rectangular pattern wallpaper covered walls. I came in this hospital way more than I wanted to remember for the same reason and I counted the rectangles on the wallpaper so many times I know there were 793 blue rectangles on the walls. I didn’t know if I should’ve laughed or cried with the familiarity of this pathetic state I found myself.
I remembered the first time I came here. I was only twelve. A little girl who was scared for her mother, but at least I wasn’t alone then.
It was the same kind of day. The kids at school were still rude and still ridiculous. I didn’t understand half of the silliness they did during class or in the hallways. I didn’t know why, but I was always different fr
om them. I didn’t find the things they found hilarious funny, I didn’t understand the reason behind their stupid banter or fights. They were always being dramatic for the things that weren’t important, like their clothes or the magazines they wanted or like the new game they wanted their parents to buy so they can play it this weekend. The kids my age didn’t make any sense to me as they seemed like they worried for nothing, at least nothing I called important, while my mind was always busy with the things I should’ve done in the house and how I could’ve helped Zeke better.
My teachers told me a few times I was mature for my age. I’m not even sure what that meant. Mature… the word almost sounded like an insult, proving that I was a freak like my supposed to be friends called me. But the thing was I didn’t know how to be a kid. I had responsibilities on my shoulder I didn’t ask to have. I had parents that didn’t act like parents, and I had Zeke who worked so hard for me to have everything I need. He didn’t even go to college so he could take care of me, so he didn’t have to leave me alone. Zeke could have gotten away from this place, but he didn't. He sacrificed his chance of freedom for me, and the least I could have done was help him.
With the same thoughts busied my mind, I walked the same road from school to home. I passed the same bookstore that was too small only one customer could come. If you wanted to buy something, you had to wait for the previous customer to leave before going in. I quickened my pace at the same dark alley Zeke warned me about. He would’ve never let me walk in that alley alone if he knew I was using that shortcut, but my shoes were taking water in from the puddles on the road. I didn’t have the choice of taking the longer path. I sighed when I passed the alleyway and took a deep breath when I caught the scent of coffee from the only coffee shop I knew. Zeke said the coffee in there was too bad, but I still loved when I had enough money to buy a cup of coffee from this shop. I had never tasted another coffee, so I didn’t have a chance to compare.
Finally, I walked by the colorful art on the industrial building’s wall and walked faster to get away from the smell in the air.
When I reached my house, everything looked the same there, too. Same dead blackberry bushes, same peeled off paint on the walls, and same muddy path until I reach the patio. But the things changed when I stepped inside the house. It was quiet, eerily so.
“Mom?” I called out, hoping she’d answer me even though she barely acknowledged me anymore. I didn’t know why, but I knew she hadn’t liked me, I forgot how it felt to be loved by a mother.
“Dad?” I tried this time, but I didn’t even think he would be home at this time of the day. Dad hardly came home, when he did he smelled like vomit, and he couldn’t even walk straight.
“Zeke?” I asked to the empty space, but I knew he must be still at work. He generally came around the same time with me only to leave again after dinner, but since I used the shortcut, I beat him this time.
I bit my lip, not liking the silence in the house. Swallowing the strange fear inside me, I walked toward my parent’s bedroom, even though they had never slept together there anymore. Pushing on the door, I smiled softly. Mom was sleeping on the bed.
I went toward her, hoping to sneak a kiss while she was sleeping, but all I could do was scream when I saw her face. She looked like a ghost. There were white bubbles coming out of her mouth, her lips were almost purple against her white skin.
I didn’t know how long I screamed or when I threw myself at her to shake her, but the next thing I knew was the strong arms around me.
“Shh, I’m here, baby girl. I’m here. Don’t be scared. She’ll be okay,” he whispered again and again until we arrived at the hospital.
As doctors took care of my mom, Zeke held me close, giving me strength without even doing anything but being with me. When Zeke was with me, I didn’t feel fear. When he held me, I knew everything would be alright, because he made my life, my day better. He made everything better.
I needed him to make my day better again.
My finger hovered on the dial button of the only person I wanted to call, but I didn’t even know if his number was still the same. I hadn’t heard from him for two years since that day I ridiculously embarrassed myself and probably disgusted him too much he didn’t even want to see me once.
I was tired.
I was scared.
I was alone.
CHAPTER 2
ZEKE
I woke up panting, covered in sweat and supporting a hard-on. It’d been two whole years of distance, but she was still haunting my every moment –our memories in the daylight, my fantasies in the night. I wondered what she was doing, if she had a boyfriend, if she moved out from that rabbit hole or if she was still dealing with things she shouldn’t have been worried about. I felt the weight of guilt on my chest like I was under a train, it was suffocating me, making me breathless, but she was strong, I knew she was doing well. There was no other choice for me but to leave her alone. I knew if I stayed there I would damage her badly, I would have caused only shame to her. There was no possibility that I could stay with her and not touch her, not fuck her until I made her fully mine without caring about the consequences. Not after that night. We were like a match and gasoline together, destined to explode bringing everything down to ashes, but fuck me if I still didn’t want her like crazy. I remembered the taste of her lips, the smoothness of her skin under my fingertips. How she moaned into my mouth when I dug my fingers into her skin, and how her darkness welcomed the beast inside me when I wrapped my hand around her slender throat. My dick twitched under the sheet, wanting, craving the only person it couldn’t have. Feeling sick to my stomach I got out of bed, headed to the bathroom to get ready for the club –the only place I could be myself and be as fucked up as I desired.
I prepared my juice from different fruits, it was my usual breakfast, even though I knew the disgusting pervert inside me deserved to die, I was still taking care of him. Shaking my head, I left my loft in Westlake and drove toward the Montlake. As I passed the billion-dollar worth mansions, my mind moved back to the place I called home for a long while in South Park. It was the worst place I’d lived, no way to compare the buildings I stayed in after I left that rabbit hole, but I was also the happiest at that place, the most alive… all because of her. My sweet little Maya, a gift, and a curse from God.
With a horn I heard from behind, I focused back on the road and tried to not think about her even though it was one of the hardest tasks I’d ever given to myself.
I turned left to the road that was almost hidden between tall trees, and soon I was pushing the button that opened the big gate of my property, my own kind of madhouse. The place looked so different in the daylight, it was silent, alone, like a beast that was sleeping and at night the beast was waking up with renewed energy, adrenaline pumped through the walls of the mansion. The only thing that didn’t change in this place was me, I was always the same freak with the same need to corrupt an innocent girl no matter how wrong it was. I always fed my obsession, day and night, with willing women who didn’t mind my kind of twisted kink as all I thought about was another woman, a woman I should never have, Maya, while I was thrusting inside faceless women. I was reminiscing the memories of her pale skin behind my closed eyelids even though I touched other bodies to tame the beast inside me.
“Master Wyatt, good morning,” I heard Nikki, my personal assistant, say. She was a great help for me as I managed this club, but her assistance wasn’t limited with the business; she was also my most willing submissive, she was taking whatever I wanted to give her with grace. Her submission was satisfying, and she was wild enough not to blink an eye at whatever I wanted from her.
