Depression is one thing. The cops aren’t helping. They aren’t able to tie anything back to him. I can’t even get a restraining order because it seems like this guy keeps changing his identity every so often. Betrayal is another. There is something in the middle though. Something that hurts you no matter what you’ve been through. I don’t know how I end up at Vick’s home but I do end up there. Tears are in my eyes. It’s raining outside. I’m all wet because I didn’t have an umbrella. It’s something out of some horror movie or something.
I look pathetic. Vick, on the other hand, looks well. Like Vick. He has that perfect body. Right now he doesn’t have a shirt on. Vick rarely does. Guys with these broad chests, hard abs and slim waists normally don’t. He was a bodybuilder after all. He gives me a look from the threshold and doesn’t completely open the door.
“Jean?” he questions.
He looks at me as though he doesn’t even recognize me. He probably doesn’t.
I didn’t feel like Jean. Not anymore. I’ve been stripped of all that. I’d never really experienced heartbroken. I never experienced anything like it actually. I’ve never felt so humbled in my life. For the first time in my life, I feel as though this entire façade I’ve been trying to create doesn’t mean anything at all. I feel completely useless.
“I know I shouldn’t be here,” I state dripping wet, “I know that I’m the last person you want to see. I know that we promised to stay away from each other. Right now though. Right at this very moment, I had nowhere to go. I don’t have anyone to turn to.”
“Henny on the rocks—like usual?”
I nod too weak and pathetic to even answer his question.
We get to the dining room table. I’m sitting there next to him and I have to admit that I’m turned on.
I don’t finish the sentence but I think he knows what I mean.
“I’ll go get a shirt.”
The last thing I needed at this moment was to complicate things. And god it was hard not to complicate things. I wanted to desperately. The look in his eyes when he returns with a shirt on lets me know that maybe I’m not alone in my thoughts on this. We were both alone. We were both in pain.
He sits at the dining room table, pours a drink and we sit in silence almost sulking in our reality.
“I was actually expecting you.”
I raise an eyebrow, “Serious?”
He grunts, “Yeah. Skylar just left. Seems that Martin left him.”
“Skylar broke down told him how he lied about Indigo. Martin blamed him for everything. After that, it was just the end of things.”
I was only partially surprised by all of this. Martin was always somewhat weak.
“He released nude pics of me to all my clients,” he states, “Everyone thinks I’m some kind of porn star or something. Losing business.”
At this point, I don’t even have to ask who it is.
We all know.
“How’d he get them?”
Vick leans back takes a deep drink of his hard alcohol and just shrugs, “The cloud, I guess. It doesn’t matter now. He’s taking us down one at a time and I’m not even upset about any of this. He thinks he’s getting us back but he couldn’t make me feel any worse about Indigo. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”
There was a time I would have thought what Vick was doing was pathetic. I would have told Vick to hurry up and get over it. I would have told him to grow some fuckin balls or something. It would have made sense to go that route.
Instead of doing that though I just stare out blankly.
Then I look at him deeply in the eyes and I state, “We deserved this.”
I think it’s been a long time coming. The regret. The pain. The dismay but at this time it seems as though we finally came to that conclusion.
He nods, “Well there has to be an end game.”
“You mean he wants something.”
“I’m sure he does,” he states, “Or else he wouldn’t be here. You heard the private investigator. The guy is a predator. He had his eyes set on my husband—“
Even the mere mention of Indigo seems to bring tears to his eyes. He would take it back I think. If he could. He wouldn’t have had sex with Indigo. He would have turned against them.
“So what do we do?”
He writes something on a napkin and slides it to me.
It’s an address.
“What is this?” he asks.
“He reached out to me.”
He nods, “Yeah. He wants you.”
My heart is racing at the thought.
“To do what?”
“To go to that address. Alone. No phone. No car. No keys. He wants me to drop you off there and that’s it.”
My heart is racing. What kind of bullshit was this? I think that Vick is joking but Vick isn’t in the mood to joke. He just keeps looking down at that moment as though he’s lost in it. I wonder how long he’s been sitting on this information without letting me know he had a conversation the fucking guy who was tormenting us.
“Well thank you for that information,” I state, “I’ll just file this under ‘shit, I’m not going to do’.”
I get up at that moment leaving the paper there. I start walking out downing my drink at that moment. This wasn’t very fucking useful at all. I could have stayed home if I knew that Vick was going to hit me with this bullshit.
Me meeting HIM?
That was never going to happen.
“He’s not going to stop,” Vick states, “People like him are all about this. He breaks people…for a living. And he deals with broken people. Louvell. Khyree. Indigo. He breaks people so that he can dominate them. And now that Indigo is gone it seems like he’s set his eyes on you. And I think he gets what he wants.”
He didn’t give a shit about me. Vick was talking right now and it was going in one ear and out the other. The only person he cared about was Indigo and Indigo was gone.
He’d be willing to sacrifice me to get back to his comfortable normal.
And the fucked up part is…
I wasn’t sure if I could take this either.
“Fine. We go tonight…”
“Dead serious…” I respond taking a deep gulp at that moment, “In this case, I might literally be dead serious.”
The rain sharpened the smells of smoke and earth. I’m in the car with not only Vick but Skylar as well. We pull up to a building. It’s a strange building looking like it reeks of whiskey and resentment. It looks like some place Indigo would have frequented on one of his dark, disturbing nights. It was really all some bullshit if you ask me.
There’s this guy standing out there. The feminine looking guy with a ripped up shirt, big bubble lips and a dazed look like he was high on something. When we pull up to him Vick just lowers the window.
“Don’t stop,” Skylar states.
“Shut up,” Vick replies quickly.
The guy standing outside stares over at the car. He waits until we make a long stop and then searches the car as though looking for something. After not finding what he looked for he just nods.
“Don’t keep him waiting. He doesn’t like to wait.”
He smelled of cigarettes and stale sweat but he still managed to have a strange scent that was sweet, fruity, reminding him of the aroma of a freshly sliced peach rotting on the side of the road. I get out of the car and realize that he is staring at them.
“You want me to walk you in?” Vick asks.
“That isn’t necessary,” the guy bringing me in says, “He’s with us now.”
“I didn’t ask you if it was necessary,” Vick states, “Maybe this isn’t a good idea after all…maybe…”
He wants to keep going but I stop him. I don’t know if he really means any of this or if he just wants to make it seem as though he cares. The truth is it’s all too late by this point. He and Skylar had one reason to be here. They wanted to make sure I went into this fucking hellhole to meet the devil himself so that he can stop bugging them and inferring in his life.
We walk past a pizza shop. From the entrance came the enticing smells of pizza and fried fish. Walking more and more. I don’t get it. Why tell us to meet him at this location if he wasn’t supposed to fuck me at this location. We walk past the darkness until the only thing I can see are lights. Headlights, streetlights—– neon advertising signs and finally we get to the lights of a lit building at the end of a shady looking block.
It’s gritty. Dirty.
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“You don’t want to keep him waiting—-“ he states.
“What are you supposed to be, his voice piece?”
“I’m his submissive.”
“I’m not even sure what that means.”
“I don’t submit to anyone.”
“You’ll learn,” he repeats.
It’s eerie how he says it. Freaks me clean the fuck out.
“Louvell in there?” I ask.
“Come on,” he states.
He ignores my question almost completely and leads me into the darkness. The only thing I see to know where to go is the glowing tip of his cigarette. There are no stars in the sky. It’s cloudy in that area even though I think it’s more smog than clouds.
We get to the door.
There is an odd knock that he does. It’s a code. And then all of a sudden a long opening.
“This is where he keeps his boys.”
“How long do I have to stay here so that he stops fucking with me?”
As we walk in the first thing I smell is sex. I mean it hits you like a wave. It hits you like a typhoon. Then comes the sound.
I look to the room to the right as I’m passing. The boy walking me down the hallway keeps straight not stopping but something gets to my mind that makes me stop.
“Bondage,” the boy with me states, “They restrain him and restrict the subject. It includes rope bondage, suspension bondage, leather bondage, furniture and device bondage, predicament bondage.”
Louvell is still there. He looks out at me and at first, I think he recognizes me but I realize he’s just lazily staring out. He is being restrained. He’s completely naked. A leather leash around his neck. Restraints are around his arms and legs. His body suspended in a strange position so that his ass is perked out somewhere.
His butthole looking as though it’s ready to be inserted by something but there was no one else in the room. The only thing was this blinking red light.
“Your friend is lucky today. The dominant is going to take him today. Might even be some CBT action.”
The boy literally looks excited.
“CBT. Cock and ball torture.”
I squirm at that moment. This was all this was about. Shade torturing us. Shade breaking us down. He was doing this to break us like a dominant would break someone he was trying to dominate. Vick had a complete point. This was all about some sick perversion and here I was clearly giving in to this dominant person and showing up in this place giving into him.
Just like he wanted.
“How long has he been there?”
“Who knows. Minutes. Hours. He waits for Shade. That’s what we all do. We all wait for Shade.”
“What’s your name?”
“I don’t have a name. You can call me Boy Number 8.”
There were 7 others. Holy shit. What if there were even more? Who the fuck could say?
Boy #8 starts leading me down the hallway until we pass a few other rooms. One room has a heavy set man. Boy #8 explains this man has been mummified. It’s exactly what it looks like.. He’s been wrapped with all parts of his body in a room that is slightly open. I’m not sure what kind of technique is used. I think it is some sort of saran wrap or even some sort of vaccubed. Just like Louvell, this guy is just there waiting…patiently.
I’m getting more and more nervous.
We get to an empty room.
“Take your clothes off.”
My heart is racing. I do what he says taking my clothes off.
“I leave when I want.”
“Take your clothes off,” he repeats.
He says it as though he didn’t even hear me the first time. I do what he says and take my clothes off. I put them in this really neat pile as though it would make any of this any better. I know it was a mistake. I know it was all a mistake.
“Give me a second.”
I can hear myself breathing from how nervous I am. I’m sitting in this dark room butt naked and the out of nowhere I hear this piercing scream that completely throws me the fuck off guard. What the fuck was that? Who the fuck was that?
Then I hear something else.
The sound of a slow wheeling down the hallway. It’s eerie. It’s slow. It’s deliberately trying to freak me out. As it gets closer I get more and more nervous.
That’s when I see it.
I don’t really know how to describe it at first. It looks like it is some sort of lift that wraps around your legs and neck. Strange ankle and wrist cuffs come off this thing. There are strange spikes that seem to not have a specific place. The machine is overwhelming so big that when he pulls it into the room on its wheels it takes over half the room.
I freak the fuck out.
I start running.
I’m running butt naked. My mind going at that moment. I’m trying to get out of there. I make it to the door. I am running out.
“HEY!” Boy #8 is screaming.
He’s chasing me! He’s getting closer.
I see these people down the street. They are having a conversation.
“GET HELP! Tell them my name is Jean!”
I run up to the guys hoping they’d do something. Give me their phone. Help me get away. I hope they’d do anything but they turn around and look at me.
And I notice who it is.
“Your name isn’t Jean. Not anymore. It’s Boy #9.”