Love Is Strange (I Know... #2) (8 page)

Chapter Six

I
moved through the dark hallways quietly, dipping into a random empty room every few minutes and waiting for the coast to clear. There were only a few night nurses on duty, and in the mood I was in, I didn't want to run into any busybodies and have words. My whole body was wired, every muscle jumpy and electrified. The violence made me like this. I didn't know what else I was capable of. I didn't want to know. I didn't want to back myself into a corner and have to fight my way out. I was itching for a fight, though. That's why it was fucking stupid to be there, but I couldn't help it.

I had to see her one more time.

She was smarter than I would ever be, but she was stupid when it came to me. I was her blindspot, her weakness. She was in denial, but I'd known for a long time that it was going to come to an end. The countdown had started ticking the second I got to Seattle. It was only a matter of time and now my time was definitely up. I'd slipped and fucked up and now there was no other option. I didn't want to hurt anyone else, but it was impossible. She would be hurt. She would curse me and fight me and try to dig in and hold on to me, that's why it had to be the way it was.

She couldn't know what I was planning. She couldn't know what I had done. Not only because it would protect her, but because it would prove to her all along that I was a monster. She thought I could be fixed but she was wrong. She thought we could play pretend and life would go along like gangbusters. Unfortunately, there was no fixing me. I had to go where all the other wild things were, where all the bad men like me went to try to escape the pitfalls , rules, and dangers of society.

But there was no way in hell I was going back to prison.

A single fluorescent light was on in her room, above the bed. Even though she barely looked like herself, she was still my beautiful Joanie. Her dark hair was spread around her pale face on the white pillow. The white bandage was thick around her neck. It was all white in there, clean and stark but still sickly, and I had the urge to grab her up and carry her out of there. I'd done bad things to her and made her hurt, but I was still a selfish motherfucker. I wanted her smiles and her smell and her love all to myself. I wanted to wrap myself up in her and never let go.

I still want that.

Unfortunately, I fucked up too many times, so I had to pay the piper. I had to give up the one thing that made any sense to me in this whole shitty world, but it was the price I had to pay. I made the only choice I could at the time, but I do regret it. Joanie made sure I would regret it.

I regret a lot of fucking things.

I shut the door to her room softly behind me, trapping her inside with me. There was a thin white curtain hanging from the ceiling for privacy, and I pulled it closed around her bed, creating a cocoon around us. She rolled her head to the side and opened her eyes as I stepped close to her bed. For a long moment, I stared down at her and she stared back. I wondered if she was pissed, because quite honestly, she had every right to be. She jerked her arms, trying to lift them, and I realized that her wrists were tied to the bed with thick white leather straps. She stretched out her fingers like she wanted to touch me and I couldn't help but smile at her predicament. She was still my Joanie, tough as hell even when she was down and out.

“You tried to run?” I asked, keeping my voice low. “So they tied you down?” She scowled at me and mouthed something I couldn't quite catch. “Where the hell were you trying to go? You need to be here.” She opened her mouth again and let out a little frustrated puff of air. I ran my hand over the smooth leather that bound her right wrist to the bed, feeling grateful. Grateful that she was still in the hospital where she belonged. Grateful that she was away from me, even though I hated it. She reached for me again, so I had mercy on her. I entwined my fingers with hers, touching her lightly. A single touch was enough to get my dick hard, but that wasn't the point. The point was that I was the one who hurt her, over and over again. The point was that it was my fault that all of the shit had rained down on both of us.

Because I couldn't control myself.

Because I would hurt her again and keep hurting her.

Don't forget
, I reminded myself.
Never forget
.

“Asshole,” she mouthed, exaggerating her lips around the word so I could understand. I leaned on the side of her hospital bed, draping my arms on the rail like I didn't have a care in the world. Meanwhile, every part of me was pulled tight with self-control. All I really wanted was to crawl in the narrow bed with her and spread her legs and fuck her like the animal I was. I looked down at our hands, noticing the nicks and cuts on my fingers and the bruises on my arms. I pulled my fingers from hers and she lifted her head off the pillow like she was trying to get closer to me. Not able to resist, I reached out for her, running my raw knuckles across her cool forehead. She moved into my touch with her whole body, wincing like she was in pain. I felt it too, deep inside me. She didn't know, but somehow it still hurt both of us the same.

She dropped her head back down on the pillow heavily, her eyes trained on mine. I let my scarred fingers roam through her hair, wondering how to keep the time from passing so I could stay. “I know, baby,” I whispered. “I'm an asshole.” She nodded slowly, fisting her hands in the light blue blanket that covered her lower half. “How do you feel?” She shrugged her shoulders slightly, her pink lips parting like she wanted to talk. I zeroed in on her lower lip, imagining the way it would feel against my tongue – soft and supple. I wanted to bite it. I wanted to suck on it until... but I was a piece of shit. She was in a hospital bed because of me. She might never speak again because of me. I had too much to atone for. I owed her too much. I didn't deserve her.

But I kissed her anyway.

I tightened my hand in her hair and dropped my mouth to hers, sucking her plump lip between my teeth without another thought. Then I plunged my tongue into her mouth, memorizing the way she tasted. Crisp and earthy, like a flower that had yet to bloom. She was as raw as I was, as filthy, as needy, and yet, still untouched by my evil, somehow. I hadn't poisoned her yet. I'd fucked her and claimed her and degraded her, but I hadn't ruined her. Not yet. I knew that the longer I stayed, the worse off she'd be.

There was still hope for her.

If I could let her go.

If.

At that moment, I honestly didn't know if I would be able to. I didn't know how I was going to force myself to leave the hospital and leave her all alone in the room. So I stayed longer than I should have. I ran my fingers through her hair as I kissed her. Her hair was long and thick, just like I liked it. I told myself to remember how it felt. I told myself that the memories would be enough, when I got wherever the hell I was going. She was pulling on the leather straps, trying to get free, trying to touch me, but I ignored her. I broke the kiss and shoved the thin blanket off of her legs. She didn't fight me as I shoved my hand under the faded hospital gown they'd put her in. I forced my middle finger inside of her and she arched her back and furrowed her brow. I could see her nipples were hard underneath the light fabric and I couldn't resist pressing my face against her chest and taking a deep breath. The gown didn't smell like her though – it wasn't good enough. So I closed my mouth over her hard left nipple and teased her with my tongue as a I pumped my finger in and out of her. My dick was hard, but I didn't pay it any attention.

This was my punishment, after all.

I'd fucked everything up and now I had to pay. I wanted to apologize to her and that was the only way I knew how. Sex was easy. Sex was automatic with my Joanie. Our bodies were attuned that way. Years ago, I'd forced it on her and she'd adapted. That's what she'd told me once. She'd adapted to the person she was now, she'd said. I knew I would have to adapt, too. I was still the same piece of shit I'd always been, but I could still feel a little bit of change in me. She'd changed me like I'd changed her. Unfortunately, shit shined up like a new penny was still shit. Sooner rather than later, I was going to have to learn to live without her.

I shoved open her legs and lifted her right knee, opening her up to me. She was already wet and my finger slid in and out of her easily. Her fingernails were gripping the leather straps so hard her knuckles were turning white, but she was no longer struggling. She'd realized it was futile. When I raised my eyes to look at her face, she was staring at me, her eyes as deep as the motherfucking ocean. She wanted to know what I was going to do, or maybe she knew. Maybe she could read my mind. She was so beautiful that for a brief second, I was selfish. For a brief second, I thought about closing my hands around her neck and finishing the job I started the night before. I thought about squeezing the life out of her, I admit it. Then I could go walk in front of a bus or shoot my brains out and we could be together forever. But she bit down hard on her lip and stared at me like she loved me and the bad thoughts fled my brain. My eyes never leaving hers, I lowered myself until my face was inches from her pussy. She blinked a few times quickly and I wondered if she was trying to tell me something. But her pussy was calling me and I couldn't resist it.

I ran my mouth down the inside of her thigh and then flicked my tongue across her clit. As soon as I got a taste of her, I couldn't stop myself. I sucked at her and lapped at her slit, telling myself it was the last time. I had to make it good. I had to make it up to her. I held my breath until my lungs burned and buried myself in her, sliding my tongue in and out of her. She drew her hips back and pressed her heel against my shoulder and tried to push me off of her, but I closed my fingers around her ankle and pushed her foot down to the mattress. I gave her one last, long lick and then pulled away. I took a deep breath and looked at her. Her eyelids were drooping and her cheeks finally had some color. She was close, I could tell.

“You like it when I tongue-fuck you,” I said, my voice low and hoarse. I could feel her wetness all over my chin and I loved it. I loved when she was so wet for me. I loved making her gush. “Don't you?” She weakly tried to kick her foot and free it from my grasp, but I held firm. I leaned against her other leg, keeping it pinned down as well. She opened her swollen lips like she wanted to answer, but didn't mouth any words. I wondered if she could sense what I was doing. I wondered if she knew. An urge for violence suddenly reared up in me and I pressed my mouth to her soft thigh. “Joanie,” I whispered, feeling like a junkie on a binge. Then I bit her because I couldn't stop myself.

She went stiff against me and I knew I was hurting her. I dropped my mouth to her pussy again and licked and sucked her until she went soft again, pulling in her stomach in anticipation of her orgasm. I sucked her clit and flicked my tongue against her and she bucked her hips and I knew she was a goner. I didn't stop as her toes curled and she jerked against the leather straps. I dragged my eyes up to her face and her head was thrown back, the bandage on her throat exposed. I let her foot go and grabbed her hip, forcing her into me as I dragged my tongue between her pussy lips, lapping up all the cream of her climax. Then I pinched the magic spot just below her ass and she shivered into me. She gushed even more and I kept licking her until my jaw was sore because I couldn't stop. She tasted so fucking good.

I wanted to remember and I do.

I can still taste her. If I close my eyes, I can smell her and taste her. When I'm alone at night, I can almost pretend that I'm buried in between her legs again and all is right in the world. When we were fucking, nothing was ever wrong. It was when we stopped fucking that we had problems. The goddamn world was against us.

I still remember. I didn't forget.

I'll never forget.

*****

When I'd woken up in the hospital bed, I'd wanted to kill him. I couldn't fucking speak and I couldn't fucking leave the bed. A bruised windpipe and damaged vocal chords were what he'd given me. He'd almost strangled me to death. I thought killing him was only fair.

But now he was here and I never wanted him to go.

Something was off, though.
He
was off. He was licking my pussy like he was addicted to it and I could barely think straight. I could only focus on his tongue and his lips and his hands. But that was what he wanted. I was strapped to a fucking hospital bed, there was no denying that. He wanted me to forget that he was the one who'd put me there. He was the one who was keeping me there. I wanted to yell at him to release the straps and take me home with him. I wanted to yell and scream and smack the shit out of him for everything. But I couldn't. I could only lay there and grit my teeth and lose my mind as he fucked me.

My whole body locked as the orgasm crashed into me. It wasn't surprising, really, but it was still a shock. I was pissed and scared and feeling loopy from fatigue and the pain medication, but he could still make me come. He knew my body better than I knew it myself sometimes. He knew what buttons to push and where to lick and kiss and bite. But I could see something on his face and behind his eyes. I could tell he was keeping something from me. I knew him, too, and he knew it. I wasn't fooled. That's why he was trying to distract me. But as the ecstasy took over, all I wanted was him on top of me. I wanted his mouth against mine and his dick inside me. I was still addicted to him. I wanted everything from him, but he didn't give it. He couldn't.