23. Evelyn
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
EVELYN
The quiet of the room was punctuated only by the rhythmic tick-tock of the antique clock, its brass face gleaming faintly in the dim light, sitting between rows of self-help books on the bookshelves that lined the pale beige walls. A green potted plant sat lonely in the corner, its leaves a vibrant splash of green against the beige.
A familiar place, a dream I remembered.
Alone in the hushed quiet, I relaxed into the butter-soft leather sofa, when a shift in the dark corner of the room, a flicker of movement caught my attention.
From the shadows, Ian materialized opposite me, sitting in his armchair, reclining casually with his legs crossed at the ankles. Dark hair fell across his brow, partially shadowing his pale, androgynous features. Dressed in dark ripped jeans and a black t-shirt that clung to his muscular chest, his studded belt buckle glinting, he was temptation personified.
A jolt of recognition shot through me. “You,” I stated sharply, “I know you.”
Ian gestured toward the couch I was sitting on. “Good. It’s nice to be remembered.”
I folded my arms, glaring at him, the temper seething in my chest as I spat out, “How could I forget? You’re one of the reasons my life is falling apart.”
Clasping his hands in front of him, he leaned forward. “Falling apart? Or waking up?”
My body tensed, every muscle screaming as I leaned forward, “You’re not even real,” I hissed, the accusation sharp as glass. “You’re just some figment of my imagination, right? Or a nightmare?”
Ian’s face became still, his brown eyes burning with a strange light, bore into mine with a disquieting intensity. “Oh, I’m very real, Evelyn. More real than you’d like to admit.”
I stared back, my reflection in his steadfast gaze, a silent challenge that sent my heart racing. “ What are you?”
Casually, without a care, he leaned back. “I’m a demon, duh. But you already know that. What you don’t know is that I’ve been locked up, physically confined to Hell. Your charming friends Aziz and Levi saw to that.”
“Then how are you here now?”
Ian tapped his temple. “Dreamwalking. My body might be locked away, but my mind and spirit are free to reach you.”
A strange, unfamiliar warmth bloomed in my chest, a sudden, intense heat that faded as quickly as it appeared. “You... came to see me?”
He tilted his head, studying my reaction closely. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I? You’re important to me, Evelyn.”
My heart leaped at his admission, a nervous flutter that made me hastily look away. Why did I care? He was a demon .
Ian’s gaze sharpened. “But you’re keeping something from me.”
“What are you talking about? I’m not keeping anything from you.”
His lips curved, but with a dangerous edge. “Don’t lie to me, Evelyn. There’s something buried in that pretty head of yours, and it’s been nagging at me since we first met.”
I shook my head vehemently, strands of my hair escaping the neat bun at the nape of my neck. “I’m not lying. Honestly, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
What could this demon possibly think I was hiding? I had nothing to hide... did I?
The unearthly light in Ian’s brown eyes blazed. His corded neck muscles strained, the veins bulging like angry snakes beneath his skin. Ian’s patience appeared to reach its breaking point.
His chest heaved with a guttural growl. “Enough!” he roared, raw with barely contained fury. “Let’s find out for ourselves, shall we?”
Before I could protest, his hand shot out, icy tendrils of dark energy snaking into my mind, the impact a searing physical blow that left my head ringing. Clutching my head, my fingernails digging into my skin, fragmented memories, long-forgotten and deeply buried, flooded back in a jumbled, confusing torrent.
Recollections of my Uncle James Neff. His leering face as he’d corner me in empty rooms or darkened areas where nobody could hear my cries. His ragged breath, thick with the cloying stench of liquor, caressed my tear-streaked cheek then clenched my hair as his callused fingers shoved into my underwear, into me. My younger self, paralyzed with betrayal and terror, could only gasp out pleas for him to stop.
The onslaught left me gasping for air, my face burning like fire, hot tears streaming down, blurring my vision and choking me with grief.
“No,” I said brokenly. “No, no, no...”`
My knees buckled, and I collapsed to the floor, a shudder wracking my body as the horrific memories played out in vivid detail, each one a fresh, searing wound on my soul. The pain was a visceral all-consuming agony, as if it were unfolding right now, not a vision from my childhood.
A burning fury, hot and sharp like shards of glass, erupted at my uncle’s violation of my innocence, while a deeper, bitter resentment, cold and heavy like a stone in my gut, festered toward my parents for their inaction, their failure to protect me.
“They were always wonderful parents, before this,” I sobbed, my whole body shaking with the injustice of it all. “I begged them to listen, but they were so focused on appearances they refused to believe me. They didn’t stop him, he came to the house again and again. He got away with it because they protected him , not me !”
Ian’s handsome face darkened with rage, his fists clenching at his sides until his knuckles whitened. “Where is he now?” he asked in a guttural rumble.
I looked up at him through the blur of tears, my gut twisting with suspicion even through the maelstrom of emotions. “Why? What are you going to do? Kill him?”
The demon didn’t hesitate. “Of course. What else would you expect me to do? Hug him?”
My own anger flared white-hot, meeting his on even ground. “You basically raped me, so how is it any different?”
Ian growled, a deep, resonant snarl. “The difference is that you belong to me. And he touched what’s mine.”
Something inside me snapped at his arrogant claim of ownership, the same as Levi’s. I rose unsteadily to my feet, my hands curling into trembling fists at my sides.
“You arrogant, self-righteous bastard,” I screamed, my voice raw and hoarse.
Forgetting that this was all just a horrific dream, I lunged at Ian. With a wild, frantic energy, I hammered my fists against his unyielding chest, the raw power of my fury unleashed in a brutal, desperate assault, each punch a tremor of rage.
The only sounds were the dull thud of my fists against his flesh and my ragged breathing as he stood impassively, his body unmoving, absorbing my blows like a solid wall.
My wild gaze landed on a massive wooden cross adorning the office wall, a sick mockery of sanctuary. Without thinking, I ripped it down and swung it at Ian with every ounce of my strength.
With a sickening crack, the heavy, ornate cross smashed into his flawless body, showering him with splinters. I couldn’t stop, driven on by rage. I snatched the biggest piece, its rough surface scraping my palm, and let out a bloodcurdling scream, burying the jagged end in Ian’s chest.
He staggered back, his brown eyes wide with shock as the crimson blood blossomed across his shirt, a sticky, wet stain spreading from the grisly wound. For a shocked second, he simply stared at me in stunned disbelief.
Then slowly, incredibly, a proud smile crept across his striking features. “You’ve got fire, Evelyn. I knew you did,” he said, almost reverently.
I stood over him, panting, my chest heaving with exertion and spent fury. I watched in morbid fascination as Ian’s fingers tightened around the splintered wood protruding from his chest.
“This wound... It barely missed my heart,” he breathed, his voice a pained rasp, laced with a chilling admiration. He held my gaze as his form shimmered and faded at the edges, like mist under the morning sun. “I need to heal. But remember this, Evelyn. Wrath is one of ours, love. A sin worthy of Hell, and you’ve got it in spades.”
With one last infuriating cocky smirk, Ian disappeared, his form dissolving into nothingness. And I was left alone, surrounded by the shards of the shattered cross and only the ugly truth for company in this waking nightmare.
The broken splinters slipped from my numb fingers and clattered to the floor. The adrenaline faded, leaving me weak. I sank to my knees, the bitter taste of betrayal and the searing heat of anger threatening to crush my already fractured psyche.
I curled into a ball, my body wracked with sobs so violent they shook my very core, anguished cries escaping my lips like a broken dam.
“Why?” I asked brokenly to the empty room, my plaintive plea bouncing off the cold, unyielding walls. “Why me? What did I do to deserve this?”
The remaining innocence and belief I had just moments ago was now ripped away and torn to shreds, leaving me raw, defiled, exposed. A battered husk of the faithful, devoted woman I used to be.
I jolted awake with a strangled gasp, my face wet with tears. Early morning light filtered through the curtains of my familiar bedroom. But the vivid dream lingered, Ian’s taunting words ringing in my ears.
Curling into a tight ball, I buried my face in the pillow to muffle the fresh sobs that poured out of me. Grief for the innocent, trusting little girl I once was before my uncle shattered my world and stole what I could never get back. Mourning the unblemished faith I’d cherished before a demon unmasked the ugly truths I’d buried deep.
As I wept, I clung to my rumpled bedsheets, doubled over from the pain lancing through my heart and soul. How could I ever be whole again, knowing what I knew now? How could I possibly heal these jagged wounds that evil had carved into my very being?
Eventually, my body gave out, exhaustion and grief taking their toll. I slept, if I could even call it that, fitful with nightmares and flashes of memories I desperately tried to outrun.
The incessant pounding in my head and a gripping cramp low in my stomach jolted me back to consciousness. Rubbing at my eyes, I blinked blearily, trying to shake off the remnants of the unrestful slumber. As I sat up, I groaned, my body stiff from sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.
“Ugh,” I said, running a hand through my tangled hair, wincing as I shifted on the bed. The cramping low in my stomach intensified, and I immediately knew what it was.
I swung my legs over the side of the bed, my head pounding mercilessly as I stood up. My period had started, of course. As if the morning couldn’t get any worse. I plodded to the bathroom, my steps heavy, as if wading through quicksand.
I scrubbed myself raw in the shower, but the images of the night remained burned into my mind, no amount of soap or water able to wash them away. My skin still damp, I put a pad in my underwear and pulled on a soft terrycloth robe, a comfort against my skin as I trudged back to my room. When I stepped inside, I froze, my heart leaping into my throat.
Aziz lounged casually on my bed, his deep brown eyes raking over me, his lips curving, a sensual and hungry expression on his face. “Good morning, sunshine,” he purred, as if he belonged there.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded, hands planted firmly on my hips, though a tremor of anxiety betrayed my attempt at a confident front.
He sat up, slowly, sensually, and I cursed myself for noticing the way his muscles rippled under his shirt. “I missed you,” he whispered, husky and intimate.
“I didn’t miss you,” I declared, a surge of triumphant energy coursing through me.
“No?” he said, lifting an eyebrow, a cocky grin on his face as he reached out, running a finger along my shoulder.
My heart boomed in my chest as he slid his finger across my collar bone and down to unfasten the top button of my pajamas. Was he undressing me?
“I think I should show you how much I missed you, Evelyn,” Aziz said, and the hungry gleam in his eyes had a strange effect on me, both terror and deep seated excitement.
That feeling alone sent waves of shame through me, and I cried out mentally. I wanted, needed the strength to resist, even if God wasn’t willing to help me.
Aziz moved his finger lower, undoing the next button. “You don’t really want to say no,” he whispered. A third button popped free.
In a flash, I remembered something important, something that would save me from whatever Aziz had planned. Finding fresh resolve, I raised my chin and pushed his hand away.
“Sorry, I’m on my period,” I said, but when I saw the look in his eyes, my heart sank. If anything, rather than looking disappointed or disgusted as I’d assumed and hoped, he looked even more excited.
“Really?” he said, his voice low and hungry. “Nature’s lube. Even better.”
He reached up and undid the last button, my plain linen top opened revealing my breasts beneath. I let out a gasp as the cool air touched my skin.
“I don’t want this,” I said, shaking my head and backing away.
Aziz grabbed my hips and yanked me close. His erection, hard and thick, ground against my belly. “Look me in the eyes and say no,” he commanded. “Look me dead in the eyes and tell me you don’t want it.”
He looked pointedly at the bed. “Fuck what God thinks. Say it, otherwise, you get to enjoy the consequences.”
I opened my mouth, terrified of what he would do to me but also excited to see what it would be like. Nothing came out, however, and all I could do was look at him.
Aziz pushed me back onto the bed. I fell, bouncing once, and watched him slip his belt free of his pants.
“Good girl. You’ll take what I give you, do you understand?” he asked, unzipping his pants.
I shook my head but still couldn’t talk. I wanted to scream out that I didn’t want him to, but some deep and mutinous part of my mind refused.
Aziz breathed out a sigh of longing and lust as he gazed down at my breasts. “Delicious. Every square inch of you is delicious.”
With a growl of desire, he bent one arm low on each side of me, pushing his face toward my chest. Taking my left nipple in his mouth, he flicked his tongue across it then sucked. Blood surged to the area, swelling inside the suction of his mouth, and despite myself, I let out a groan of pleasure.
I released a pained whimper as he tightened his teeth around it, biting gently.
“That’s right,” he said, pulling his mouth away and looking up at my shocked face. “You like it, don’t you?”
Yes. “No. I don’t.”
His features morphed into a predatory expression. “I’m a demon, my girl. I know liars, and you are not very good. Tell me, do you want to suck my cock?”
Yes. “Huh, uh. No, not happening,” I muttered, silencing the insubordinate voice deep in my subconscious.
He stood and finished undoing his pants before sliding them half way down his thighs. I gaped in shock and the… the… well, it was a penis, but I just couldn’t think of it that way. The thing that sprang out of his underwear was massive, crisscrossed with thick veins, the head of it dark pink, and the tip glistening with some kind of fluid. Instinctually, I knew what that liquid was but refused to acknowledge it.
“You’re going to be a good girl, and you’re gonna take this,” he said, grasping the thick shaft in one hand. “You’ll suck me off, and if you do a very good job, I’ll fuck that sweet tight pussy too. How does that sound?”
“No,” I whispered.
“If you want me to stop, then say ‘stop,’ otherwise, I’m ready to play,” he said, eyeing me with hunger, the appendage in his hand twitching faintly in time to his heartbeat.
“No,” I repeated.
“You know the rules. Today, no doesn’t mean no. No means fuck me.”
With that, he grabbed the back of my head, and thrust his hips forward. His member pressed against my lips for an instant—warm and surprisingly soft given how rigid it was—then my lips parted, and it slid in. My conscience screamed at me to stop, to bite it off, to yank my head back, everything about this made me want to rebel, and fight. Yet, I didn’t. Even as I whimpered in terror, revulsion, and violation, I opened my mouth, and lifted my tongue to run it along the bottom of the shaft.
Aziz groaned, throwing his head back. “Fuck, I knew how good you’d do. Come here, I need to take this.” He hissed, putting a hand on either side of my skull and holding my head still, then he began to thrust into my mouth.
The massive fleshy rod in my mouth made my jaw ache with its size, I could barely fit it in, yet that didn’t stop him from slamming himself into me. The head of it gliding all the way to the back of my throat, pressing on the soft palate and making me gag. He’d then pull back, only to slide in again.
I pressed on his thighs, unable to breathe, trying to push him off even as he shoved it further down my throat. Tears leaked from my eyes, and again I almost gagged on it. Aziz yanked himself free, his member glistening in spit while strings of saliva hung from my mouth.
He lifted my chin and looked into my eyes. “Don’t push on me, Evelyn. Do you want me to stop? Say it if you do.”
Whimpering, I tried to say it, begged myself to say the word that would end this. I even cried out to God again for the strength to say it, yet when I opened my mouth only one word came out, shocking and terrifying.
“More.”
“ Yes ,” he said, looking more pleased than I’d ever seen anyone look. “Now we’re getting somewhere,” he added, before thrusting back into my mouth.
I had no idea how long he used my mouth, it could have been minutes or hours. While he worked on me, the deepest parts of my body thrilled at the sensation, even as I retched and choked on him, it rejoiced in the sin. The other part, the section of my mind and soul that I’d always thought was me , sobbed in horror at how he degraded me. The awful things we were doing. How much penance would remove the stain of this? Could it be removed?
Aziz pulled himself free of me, and I heaved in a breath, spit coating my chin and dripping onto my breasts, tears blurring my eyes.
Before I could recover, he yanked my pajama bottoms down, tore my underwear off of me, sending the bloody menstrual pad tumbling to the ground. That was what I was staring at, the crimson smear on the cotton, when he dug his fingers into my hips and buried himself within me.
I stuffed a fist in my mouth, biting down and letting out a muffled scream. It was like being split in two. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was really happening. I refused to believe it, even as he grunted, thrusting into me. Again, despite the wishes of my soul, my body responded in the opposite way, hips moving forward to accept him, waves of pleasure rippling through me each time he sank his shaft into me.
“Good girl,” Aziz panted. Even as he worked, I could hear the wet splattery sounds as my menstrual blood seeped from my vagina with each of his thrusts.
Stop , I tried to scream. I even pressed my hands against his chest, shaking my head, but couldn’t force myself to shove him away. Not when it felt so good.
Lord, God, why have you forsaken me?
Surging ecstasy built up within me, a balloon swelling, ready to pop. Aziz, rammed into me again and again. My breathing grew ragged and forced, and coherent thought became impossible. The balloon finally burst, pleasure, white hot and overwhelming cracked through me like a lightning bolt. Aziz grunted in satisfaction as he climaxed as well.
Even as I jerked in spasms of climax, Aziz pulled his private free of me, and stood, grabbing my head again. I looked on in shock and horror as the massive shaft, coated in the red and opaque white of blood and semen, approached.
“Taste it,” he growled. “Taste the communion of Hell.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to stop, but that was the only opening he needed. With a quick shove, it slipped past my lips, the tangy coppery taste of blood hit my tongue, and the world vanished.
The man grunted, moaning in pleasure as I pushed him into my mouth again, my knees cushioned on the soft moss beneath us.
All around us, the sounds of nature echoed, birds, frogs, babbling creeks, and the hiss of wind through leaves. The temperature was perfect, even though we were both naked, we weren’t cold.
Hungry, I bobbed my head up and down on his shaft, faster and faster, using my right hand to stroke him while he used my mouth. Above, the noonday sun warmed our bodies.
The man sighed, running his fingers through my hair. “Why does this feel so good? What’s happening?”
I grinned even as I sucked him. I knew he’d love this little secret. As soon as I discovered it, I wanted to show him.
Letting out a combined cry of pleasure, surprise, and shock, he bucked, hips shoving forward, hot liquid spurting into my mouth, filling it, even as he continued crying out in ecstasy ? —
Sitting up with a gasp, I looked around my room. Alone. I was alone. Heaving in heavy gasps of air, I tried to remember the dream I’d just had. Something about a man in a forest? No, a meadow maybe? We’d been…what? Kissing? Making love?
Like sand sifting through my fingers, I lost the thread completely and looked down upon myself, my shirt open, my pants and panties strewn across the room, blood smeared all over my bed and droplets on the ground.
“Oh my god,” I whispered, putting a hand to my mouth as I took in the sights. It had been real.
When I pulled my hand from my mouth, I saw blood on my fingers. Licking my lips, I tasted the metallic taste of blood and the acrid astringent taste of something else, something that reminded me of my dream in some way.
“You were a good girl,” a voice whispered from the corner.
Snapping my head around, I locked my eyes on the shadows there but found no one. The room really was empty.
It was all a dream, I told myself, trying to forget the evidence to the contrary. Nothing but a dream. I had a nightmare, thrashed around, and my pad came off. I got blood everywhere, and that’s all.
Shoving all memory of what I’d experienced to the back of my mind, I knelt, trying to pick up and clean the mess. It kept my attention off the pleasant ache between my legs. An ache like something had been inside me not so long ago.
I grabbed a towel and wiped up the blood on the floor, whispering to myself, “Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.”