Insidious (12 page)
Not hiding my cruel tone, I asked. “Did you beat off while you watched yesterday?” I knew the answer. He couldn’t get off with a Hoover vacuum. The disease and medicine had taken away more than his ability to stand.
“Come here.”
Resigned, I moved forward. My new concern was getting to the bathroom in search of lubricant. Without it, there was no way that cock would get inside of me. Momentarily I remembered my arousal from the night before. If only I could relish the idea of Brody’s come being there with Stewart’s dick. Maybe, just maybe, I could find a way to enjoy the irony. Seductively, I leaned down and kissed his lips. Summoning my most appeasing voice, I said, “Let me go get ready for you. I’ll be right back.”
He reached for my hand and placed it on his dick. “No. You can get ready right here.” His hand tugged at the cord around my waist, opening my robe and exposing my nightgown. “Mrs. Harrington, you are overdressed for this show. I believe you know my rules.”
Allowing the robe to fall from my shoulders, I pulled the nightgown from my head.
“Panties. Tsk tsk. Those were never needed when you slept where you’re supposed to be sleeping.”
“I can’t sleep with the nurses checking on you all night long. You know that.”
“Panties. Off.”
The lace fell to my ankles.
“Now, I want to feel those marvelous lips. The ones I watched suck our friend’s come yesterday afternoon. Let me feel that beautiful mouth on my cock.”
I fell to my knees as the overwhelming scent of sickness infiltrated my senses. Fighting back the bile that threatened my throat, I reached for his limp cock. It flapped in my grasp. As I tried to direct it toward my lips, revolt spurred in my empty stomach.
“That’s my girl. So good at following directions.” The hairs on the back of my neck stood to attention. It was a phrase he used in the warehouse: his idea of praise. In reality, each time he said it, I felt more like a well-trained dog.
Up and down my head bobbed, my lips chapping as time passed with no result.
Unabashed, Stewart reached for my hair and pulled my eyes upward. “You’re losing your touch, darling. I think you might need more practice.”
I reached for his sagging balls in desperation.
“Oh, yes, I feel it.”
I was glad he did. I didn’t. Maybe I could convince him of an ejaculation he didn’t really have. I quickened my pace, willing saliva where only dust remained. Dramatically, I changed my pace, gagging with the sound of forced swallowing.
“That’s it!” he exclaimed as his head wobbled backward and he exhaled an ethereal breath. Pushing me away, he demanded, “Now show me that sexy pussy. It used to be so tight, so wet.”
I leaned back on my ass, spreading my legs and fingering my lips.
“You used to be tight.” His eyes gleamed. “I know what’s still tight. We can have some fun with that.”
My heart raced as I leaned farther back, exposing myself completely.
“Move my chair to the edge of the bed, and lean over that mattress. I want to fill that tight hole.”
My feet moved, but just like at the warehouse, my mind went away. When his fingers went inside of me, a hiss left his lips. “What’s wrong with you? Where’s my dripping-wet little whore?”
I wonder? Maybe you don’t turn me on at all?!
When I didn’t respond, he continued, “Go get some lubricant. Damn, you’re dryer than the fucking Sahara.”
No shit, asshole. I would’ve done that earlier if you weren’t such a dick!
Of course, I didn’t say that. However, the idea of saying it brought a private smile to my thoughts.
Once he situated me on the bed, he spread the lube, first fingering my slit and then thrusting into the destination he’d sought. “Oh, yes, darling… that’s what I like. No wonder so many of our friends enjoy pushing their dicks inside your ass. You’ve still got it there.”
He thrust his finger in and out. As I was getting used to that, he told me to find him the glass plug. Though it was much thicker and longer than his fingers, the smooth surface combined with the lubricant gave little resistance.
I obeyed, moving appropriately and making the sounds he required. However, the entire time with my eyes closed, I longed for the blindfold of the warehouse, and without the headphones, I had to imagine the
Dark Lullaby
melody in my head.
Thankfully, his energy was quickly spent. Slapping my ass, he declared, “We’re done with this. Wheel me into the bathroom. You can continue the show in there: a little shower dancing. I can watch as you suds up that pussy.”
Like the good wife, I complied, loathing bubbling beneath the surface and a serene smile on my face. After all that he’d done, having him watch as I showered was truly nothing. As the bathroom filled with humid air, I took my time and embraced the warm, cleansing spray. At least I didn’t have the scent of his come to wash away, only the stench of his impending death.
When I opened the glass door, I found Stewart with his eyes closed, chin on his chest, and slumped in his wheelchair. Though his brow glistened with perspiration, I held out hope as I touched his wrist and prayed.
Fuck!
He still had a pulse.
DESPITE WHAT HAD happened upstairs, the lower level of our apartment appeared as it always did: perfect. Being only a little after one, the afternoon haze had not yet settled, allowing the Florida sun to glisten as sparkling waves and crystal-clear sky filled our living room with light.
“Mrs. Harrington?” Travis questioned from behind me as I stood momentarily watching the view.
Without turning, I replied, “Mr. Harrington is asleep. He’s in his suite. The nurses are attending to him.”
“And… you are going?” he asked. As I turned I saw him eying me from head to toe, no doubt trying to assess my plans by my attire.
“Travis, stay here and do what you do. Watch over Stewart. We wouldn’t want him to wake to both of us gone.”
Travis stood taller, appearing the intimidating bodyguard he truly was. “Ma’am, after we were unable to reach you last night, Mr. Harrington asked that from now on I drive you. He would prefer you not to be out alone.”
My lips pressed together as my neck straightened in rebellion. “I can assure you that I’m capable of driving myself. Your services are neither needed nor welcomed.” When Travis started to reply, I leaned closer and lowered my voice. “Back the fuck off and remember who’ll be in charge when Stewart’s no longer here.”
Lisa’s voice severed the mounting tension. “Mrs. Harrington?”
Travis and I both turned.
“Yes, Lisa? I’m on my way out.”
“Yes, I wanted to catch you before you left. Your mother called, again. She said that she can’t seem to reach you on your cell, and she desperately needs to speak with you.”
I closed my eyes. I had enough shit to deal with, without adding the great Mrs. Sound to my platter. “Lisa, please inform Mrs. Sound that I’m terribly busy and preoccupied with my husband. I don’t know when I’ll have the opportunity to return her call.”
Travis’ obvious huff at my
preoccupation
with Stewart received another narrowing gray-eyed glare from me.
“I’ll let her know.” Lisa tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips knowingly. “She doesn’t take rejection well.”
“That’s too bad; she dishes it out like a pro.” Securing my purse, I hit the button on the elevator. “I plan to be back before Mr. Harrington wakes. If I’m not, well, Travis, I know you have my number.”
“And where am I to tell Mr. Harrington that you went?” Travis asked.
“Check my car’s GPS,” I said as the doors closed.
I knew it drove Travis crazy that he couldn’t access my whereabouts with my phone. He’d tried multiple times. Thankfully, money worked both directions. Stewart could afford the means to track me, and I could afford the means to stop it. Continual scans of my number and account by the privacy firm I’d hired stopped any and all GPS apps that mysteriously found their way onto my personal device.
Stewart had told me before we married that he wouldn’t monitor my movements. Whenever he questioned my phone’s GPS, I innocently reminded him of that promise. One time when he pursued the topic, I gave him two options: A—leave my phone alone and I’ll answer it, or B—monitor it and I’ll leave it at home. Grudgingly, he chose A.
Starting my car, I thought about its GPS. The privacy firm offered to disable it, and I’d considered it for a while. Then I decided that I liked the false sense of empowerment it gave to both Travis and Stewart. While leaving my car and taking taxis wasn’t my favorite activity, thus far it had worked well.
I glanced at the text message I refused to allow myself to read earlier in my suite. It was from Brody, received at 6:54 AM. I grimaced.
Like I’d ever be awake that early?
“DID EVERYTHING GO ALL RIGHT?”
There was a second one, sent later.
“I’M WORRIED YOU HAVEN’T RESPONDED. BTW – I THINK I FOUND SOMETHING THAT IS IMPORTANT. LET ME DO SOME MORE RESEARCH AND I’LL GET BACK TO YOU.”
The third was from Val. I’d already accessed it and replied.
“SORRY ABOUT THE EMERGENCY? HOPE YOU MADE IT HOME ALL RIGHT. WE NEED TO CATCH UP.”
My response:
“I’LL BE OVER THIS AFTERNOON. TEXT ME IF YOU’RE BUSY.”
Since I hadn’t heard from her, she was my first stop.
MY KNUCKLES RAPPED on the door of the small apartment not far from Memorial’s medical center. Within mere seconds, the door opened and I was greeted by the same gray eyes I saw every day in the mirror.
“Hi, sis, come on in,” Val said with a welcoming grin.
Our gray eyes were our familiar personal trait. Other than that, we looked much different than one another. Many people didn’t realize we were sisters. Val’s light brown, short, spiky hair was about as different from my long, dark hair as possible. Hers was thick and took on a life of its own: the absolutely perfect style for the busy life of a doctor, while mine was sleek and shiny. I often wore mine pulled back, but if I left it down, it easily reached the middle of my back. We also varied in size. Val was shorter and more petite than I. Her body shape was more like our mother’s. Though we were both fit, my five-feet-six-inches held more curves than her five-foot-two. When I wore my usual three- to four-inch heels, I towered above her.
“Hi,” I greeted, eying her suspiciously. “Have you even slept? What time did you get home from the hospital?”
“Yeah,” she waved me off. “I’m fine. I didn’t want to pass up a chance to see you. Besides, I felt bad for turning you down yesterday, and I wanted to hear more about that cryptic text.” Her brows rose in question. “Umm, so, we hung out last night?”
“We did,” I confirmed. “Has anyone called to question it?”
“Like your husband, or that creep, Travis? No, but if they do, I’m good. I think I’ve got the story straight. We were talking about the U.S. cancer clinics and due to the pile-up on 95, which, by the way, really slammed us hard last night, I was called away.”
“Yes.” I nodded. “And I fell asleep in the doctor’s lounge waiting for you. You found me, woke me, and I finally left after midnight.”
Val’s head shook from side to side. “I know Stewart’s been an ass, but, damn, his days are limited. Keep your ducks in a row for a little while longer. You don’t want to screw everything up now.”
I fell into her overstuffed sofa. “It’s complicated. I didn’t mean to be out so late. I was mad, met up with a friend, and believe it or not, fell asleep.”
Her eyes widened. “Jeez, I know I’m exciting company, and falling asleep in the doctor’s lounge is totally feasible, but your friend must be a riot if you really did fall asleep. Unless…” Her eyes widened. “…it’s a friend who you happened to be seeing in a horizontal position. Which makes sleeping much easier,” she added with a grin.
I shrugged and reached for the tall glass of iced tea Val offered. “Thanks. When are you leaving for Uganda?”
“Two weeks. So, see, I would’ve been awake anyway. I have a ton to get done. Right now…” She pointed to the table near the side of the room covered in papers, folders, and her laptop. “…I’m getting all the forms completed. I’ll be meeting with the representative from Doctors Without Borders next week.”