[CONTENT NOTE: There is no sex. There’s very little violence. But something wicked this way comes.]
I rang the bell and knocked at the door.
She opened it and smiled reflexively. I returned her smile, but with intent.
Recognition dawned; first in her eyes, and then upon her lip, which began to twitch.
“I warned you,” I said, stepping past her and into her foyer. She made no move to stop me; in fact, she made no move at all. She stared blankly out her front door as I took off my coat and strode into the house.
She listened —mute and paralyzed— as I moved from room to room, taking in the decor and drawing the drapes. She hadn’t budged an inch when I returned.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered, standing behind her and leaning in close.
Her mouth automatically formed the words “I’ve missed you, too,” but she made no sound. She was an echo now, of a girl eight years younger. A tear rushed down her cheek to commemorate something she’d lost long ago.
“This is nice. But I always knew it would be,” I said. I placed my hands on her little shoulders and began to massage them. “Roomy. Nice carpet. Shame about the parking.”
“Why?” she croaked, finding some fragment of her voice deep in her throat.
“There’s only space for a dozen cars, and—“ I explained, but she cut me off.
“Why— why have you come?” she asked.
I took her hand, so small it disappeared in mine.
“You know why I’ve come,” I said, and raised her hand to my lips. I kissed her fingers softly.
Her face was red and her eyes were closed. She was shaking. I liked that.
“A deal is a deal,” she whispered.
“Indeed it is,” I answered, leading her from the foyer, past the kitchen, and into the hall. She followed me quietly.
We reached the master bedroom, and I abruptly shoved her inside before me.
“Is this it? Is this where it happened?” I demanded, shoving her in the back to emphasize each question. “Was it on the bed?” Shove. “On the floor, like a fucking animal?” Shove.
With my help, she toppled forward on to the bed. Her arms flew to cover her head, her back began to heave, and I could hear her sobbing consume her.
“Did you even think about me?” I asked. “Even once, while he was on top of you… did I even cross your mind? No. No, of course not. Of course.”
She made a sound akin to “I’m sorry”, but it was more a soft, plaintive howl.
“I know. You’ll be moreso before I’m through.” I let her sob and began going through her drawers.
“Why— why now?” she choked out between sobs. I threw her vibrator on to the bed next to her, then followed it with an envelope full of cash I found inside a box of childhood trinkets. After a moment’s thought, I put the envelope back, and took the box entire.
I sat down on the bed next to her and slapped her butt. It had been a long time, but I knew she was already wet.
“Because I’m getting old, love,” I said with a sigh. “I’m getting old, and I’m about a young man’s business. If I didn’t come now, I’d never come.”
She turned her face toward me slightly, and peered at me through her hair. It was the first time she’d looked at me since greeting me at the door.
I smiled at the sight of her eye. “And we have a deal. So ‘never’ was never an option.”
“I would have picked a better place for you,” I said, my gaze roaming about the room. “Not this tasteful, tedious shit. Something more appropriate for a disgusting girl like you.”
My hand came down on her ass again, startling her. I stood, grabbed a fistful of her mane, and dragged her from the bed and on to the floor. She let out a squeal that was almost a scream; she knew she had to be quiet. I liked quiet. And so did the little one.
Which was my next stop. She cried —but did not struggle— as I dragged her down the hall and into another bedroom. Her body came to rest on the floor next to the crib.
“So this is her?” I whispered, peering down into a soft, sleeping face. “She’s beautiful. How’d you manage that?”
She didn’t thank me the way a polite new mother should. So I backhanded her, squatted down next to her, and peered intently into her eyes.
“I hope she never finds out what you are,” I hissed. My fingers softly tapped at one of the crib’s legs as I spoke, and she watched their movements as if my hand were something venomous, ready to strike at any moment. Which was silly of her, because she knew as much as anyone that my species spits its poison. “You don’t deserve her. And she damned well deserves better than you.”
She began crying even harder. She always did when she knew I was right.
I stood and moved back into the hall, waving for her to follow. She gathered her feet under her, but my glare convinced her to change her posture. She crawled instead, sparing only the quickest glance behind her as she hurried to keep up. When I dropped heavily on to her couch, she promptly positioned herself on the floor next to me.
She didn’t look up, but she found it within herself to speak. “Are you— is this about fucking me? I won’t— I can’t stop you.”
I laughed. “What? You’ve got to be kidding! You’re used now. Ruined. Spoiled. Wasted. Fucking lost.” I lightly swatted her head with my hand. “You can be damned sure I’m leaving here with a lot more than the feel of your cunt, cunt.”
She curled into a ball, but leaned against my leg all the same.
“This— I never— we didn’t—” she cried. It was entertaining, watching her back shudder as she sputtered and sobbed and inwardly calculated the sum of all the wrongs she’d done and debts she owed to me. “Please, you said I could…”
“Of course I did,” I assured her. “Your only right was to flight… I said I’d let you walk away, and I did. But promises were made, and bills have come due.”
She unwound slightly, and tentatively reached out to touch my knee. “I— please, you can fuck me. Rape me. Take what I owe and go.”
My fingers tangled themselves in her hair and jerked her head back until it looked as though her neck might snap, leaving her no choice but to meet my gaze.
“What you owe is waiting in the car outside,” I said.
She blinked. Slowly. Twice.
“And you know what’s funny?” I glanced toward the front door and smiled. “She barely looked surprised when we pulled up outside.”
“No!” she gurgled.
“I thought she’d cry, but all she did was squeeze my hand and ask me not to frighten the baby.”
“NO!” It sounded as if the word had been torn from her throat.
“I’m quite proud of her. She’s twice the girl you ever were.”
“no nonononono…”
“You know, she told me you warned her. About men like me. Like you were imparting wisdom or something. As if you’re capable of learning anything when your hole is wet. As if you aren’t just a collection of habits and obligations and flights of fancy pretending to be a woman. Fucking ridiculous.”
I relaxed my grip, but she knew I expected her eyes to remain on me.
“Not that it mattered,” I continued. “All you did was make her a little scared. She’s a curious girl, and when you scare curious girls, they run toward the danger. I’m surprised you didn’t realize that.” I paused and regarded her thoughtfully. “Or maybe you did. You sick little whore. I wouldn’t put it past you.”
I loved the flicker of self-doubt in her eyes. “Please… I’m so sorry, please, don’t…”
“It’s done. Been done for a few years now.” I softened my expression as I felt her body sag under the weight of the inevitable. “I’ve been grooming her for today. To be strong for me the way you never would.”
She felt so many daggers dig in at once, she wasn’t sure where the pain from my disappointment ended and the pain from my disdain began.
“Can I— is there anything,” she began, her sobs undermining the urgency of her words. “Is there— is there anything I can give you? D-do for you?”
“We’re not negotiating, you pathetic little cumstain.” I laughed again, this time stripping It of any trace of sincerity. “You’re quite adept at denial, but you knew what was coming. You’ve had plenty of time to steer yourself into the eye of the storm, but you chose to take your chances and hope I would simply pass you by. Stupid bitch. It was always going to get you. The storm is for you.”
“For me!” she insisted, desperately imagining what a normal woman would do.
Her head rose slightly, in a way that sought to suggest resistance. It seemed for a moment that her eyes might harden, as if she felt a surge of something powerful and brave rushing through her. An echo of heroism, perhaps. But I smiled, and that was all it took; she sighed deeply, and remembered who was truly to blame.
“For me,” she whispered, plaintively.
I stood and walked toward her foyer. Before leaving the room, I paused and waited with my back to her. She hesitated, first out of confusion, then stubbornness, then fear. But after one very long minute, she was at my elbow.
She followed quietly as I walked on.
“You made a deal,” I off-handedly replied, reaching for my coat. “You even brought her up. Taunted me with her. You practically suggested it. And then you made a deal to ensure it wouldn’t happen.”
“I’m sor—“ she began.
“But you broke the deal,” I continued, as I surveyed the house a final time. I sniffed the air; all I could smell was a life rotting from the inside. “So I made her mine, like I said I would.”
I grasped the door knob lightly and turned to her.
“It took forever, of course.” I grinned, reminiscing like a craftsman about a rewarding project. “Finding her. Connecting with her. Seducing her. Using everything I knew against her. Breaking her down.”
She looked at me with tired, empty eyes… lost in the words.
I grunted, realizing that once again, I needed to explain her future to her.
“So here’s how this is going to go, cunt. I’m going to walk through this door to the car outside, where the other cunt is waiting. We are going to drive to a train, and from the train, we’ll make our way to the airport. And then it’s back home for me, where she will disappear. From there? I have many things to show her, and even more to teach.”
She didn’t nod, but a slow blink suggested something was getting through.
“I don’t owe you anything. I don’t owe you this visit. You let me down. And yet I’m standing here, inviting you to come out and say goodbye. If there is any trace of the girl you could have been still buried inside you, I hope it asserts itself. I hope it swallows your pride and eats your fear and lets you do what’s right.”
The light of a dull, sodden sky fell upon us as I opened the door.
“We’ll wait. Five minutes,” I assured her. “Then I’m telling the driver to leave.”
Her whole body trembled. I knew her stomach was in knots.
“If it matters!” I helpfully called out as I reached the end of her walk. I waved from the gate. “We love you! Both of us!”
We waited five minutes and eighteen seconds, because I know how she is, and I meant it when I said I loved her. The driver jumped out when he saw her dragging a hastily-packed suitcase, and deposited it in the trunk.
The car door opposite me opened, and without a word or hesitation, she wedged her way inside. She took a deep breath and settled in to the seat. I nodded to the driver.
“So what about—?” I began.
“He’s on his way home, five minutes from the house. He’ll find her.” Her voice fell to a whisper. “She’ll be okay. He’s a good man. Mom will help. He’ll always be proud of her.” Her excuses trailed off into the nothing from whence they came.
The silence returned. I admit, I could have waited a little more, but I couldn’t help it. I had to ask.
“Why?”
She finally turned and glared at me as best she could.
“You don’t get to teach her anything without me. And you,” she said firmly, turning to her little sister. “You don’t get to live my dream.”
As it turns out, the train was crowded. They both fell asleep on my shoulders.
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