Chapter 36 #2
“I lied,” I say softly, staring at her, willing my cock to go soft.
Nothing about this is sexy, only the fact the girl I love is handcuffed to a bed…
but the reasons aren’t desirable. “It tasted like poison. I’m sure I lied before, but it’s not in my nature to lie.
I’m going to pay for it greatly, but the worst part is knowing you’ll never forgive me.
” I grab my backpack. “Don’t worry. You won’t be trapped for long.
Consider this the last few hours of being in a cage. Soon you’ll be free.”
“Ben. Don’t do this. Please,” she begs, pulling at the cuffs. “There has to be another way.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But not one I’m comfortable with.”
“I’ll never forgive you. Ever. You don’t get to trade your life for mine and then expect me to be grateful.”
“I don’t need your love, forgiveness, or your gratitude. Just knowing you’re safe will be enough for me.”
“I won’t be safe,” she snaps. “I’ll live dangerously and recklessly. I’ll drink and drive. Fuck everyone I meet. Shoot up heroin.”
I laugh, what a funny thought. “No, you won’t.”
“Yes. I will. Anything to make you pay.”
I shrug. “As long as you’re doing what you want for a change, I’ll be okay with it.
Have fun,” I say, walking over and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“I love you, Prue. You may never forgive me and that’s fine, but when I kill your ex, please take it as an act of love not abandonment. ” I straighten up.
“Ben. Please.” She cries now. “Don’t do this. I’m begging you.”
I walk to the door. Knowing I have very little time to get to the airport if I don’t want to miss my flight back to LA.
“Now this is goodbye.” I open the door.
“Stop. Ben. Please,” she continues to beg. “I love you,” she blurts out, right before I’m about to step out.
I smile back at her.
“You’re way better at goodbyes.”
When the door shuts behind me, I stand frozen outside the room. My feet refuse to move. My heart is begging me to go back in there and beg for forgiveness in the form of countless orgasms and more self-mutilation.
But while I’ve spent most of my adult life being selfish, I’ve seemed to have adopted a hero complex since meeting Prue. Saving her is looking like a full-time job. The time clock will be the jail cell I’m going to be sentence to, but a job done well, is a job well done.
The flight back to LA takes less than two hours. So when I land, I know it’s just a matter of time before I’m putting a bullet in the head of Charles Davenport. If all goes well, that is.
There is a good chance he kills me first. I made sure to leave a small trail of breadcrumbs to let him know where he can find me. Laying out a trap, but I’m not entirely sure if he is getting caught or me.
I might have been making it seem like my plan is to kill him, and it is. But I failed to mention the part where my plan could cost me my life too.
Best case is I get to kill him. Worse case, he kills me and gets to rot behind bars instead of me. Either way works for me, so long as Prue gets to live a long and hopefully healthy life.
I have to admit her little threat to do more harm to herself than good almost had me, but I know her. She isn’t stupid. It was just her last attempt to get me to change my mind. Just like saying she loves me as I was leaving.
It was nice to hear it, but I don’t buy it for a second. She needs me, yes. At this time in her life, she needs someone to take her lashings and show her what freedom feels like. I’m very grateful I got to be that person for her, but she was always going to out-grow me.
Lucky for us both, I’m sparing us that misery.
I know at this moment she is probably free of the shackles that trap her to the hotel bed and one step closer to whatever life she desires. She may pretend like that’s me, but it isn’t.
Wes meets me in the airport parking lot. He leans against his car, smoking a cigarette.
“I was half expecting Prue to be with you.”
“That wasn’t part of the plan.”
“Thought you might’ve changed your mind.”
“You know me better than that.” I flash him a grin.
“Wishful thinking, I guess.” He shrugs, climbing into the car.
“Thank you for picking me up,” I add after sliding into the seat beside him.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Not really sure I should take you home, though. Part of me thinks a mental hospital is more fitting.”
“Ha.” I smile. “Just drop me off at my condo, Wes. There is nothing for you to worry about.”
“You’re like my brother, Ben. Of course, I’m worried.” But he starts the car regardless.
“Can I tell you something?” I ask, looking at him through the corner of my eye as he drives.
“You can tell me anything.”
“You know my Aunt Martha, right?” Her name feels like acid on my tongue.
“Yeah.”
“Well, I should’ve never let you spend the night when she was there. I was selfish. Using you as a shield to keep her from… hurting me.” I pause for a moment. “But I put you at risk by having you there and I’m sorry.”
“Hurting you?” He glances at me.
“You don’t want the details and I don’t want to give them.”
“Fair enough.”
“But regardless. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. There isn’t a lot I wouldn’t do for you.”
“I know.” I nod. “And I love you too or whatever.”
Wes laughs. “Just do me a favor.”
“What?”
“Make it count.”
“That’s the plan.”
I’m only half surprised to find my front door unlocked. I’m a little more surprised to find all the lights on and the place a wreck, though.
However, when I see one guy lounging on my couch and the other sitting at my kitchen table, I’m not surprised in the slightest.
“Rookie mistake, leaving the door unlocked and lights on,” I say dropping my backpack on the ground.
“Where is she?” Charles says, standing up from the kitchen table.
“Right now? Probably desperately trying to get a plane ticket at the San Francisco airport.”
“And you’re here, because?”
“She got a little too clingy for me.” I shrug.
“You got bored of her?” Charles laughs. “He got bored of her,” he says to his friend who laughs with him. The guy looks terrified to be here, but he is going along because that’s what you do when your rich friend asks you to. Why Charles is doing his own dirty work is beyond me.
“The question is why are you two here?”
“To follow through on a promise.” Charles grins. “I said I was going to kill you so I’m here to kill you.”
“Oh, come on. She is surely going to come crawling back now that she knows she can’t have the best thing to ever happen to her. Can’t we just wrap this up in a rug and toss it into the ocean like they do to dead bodies in the movies?”
“No. But thanks for the tip.” Charles laughs. “I much rather watch your body go up in flames, though. Maybe I’ll slit her throat over your ashes.”
“Little violent don’t you think?”
“Violent? You held a fucking knife to my throat.”
“And you broke my rib. Let’s let bygones be bygones or whatever they say.”
“I rather piss on your corpse.”
“Jesus. Kiss your mother with that mouth?”
“You’re such a piece of shit.” He throws a chair in my direction. It misses, crashing into my TV, which shatters.
“I’m made of rubber, you’re made of glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.”
He answers that by hurling another chair at me. I have to duck so this one doesn’t hit me. A shiver runs down my spine as it crashes into the wall behind me. I’m starting to doubt my odds of surviving this, but hey, dead or alive, Prue will get her freedom.
“Charles,” his friend says, standing up. “You don’t want someone calling the cops before we’re done with him.”
“I wouldn’t mind if someone called the cops,” I chime in.
Charles marches over to me. Since I’m not a chicken shit, I keep my feet firmly in place. His fist connects with my jaw with enough force that I’m pretty sure another hit like that has me drinking out of a straw for the rest of my life.
I have enough sense to shove him back. He stumbles two steps backwards, stunned again by my strength.
“Grab his arms,” he barks at his friend. “I don’t want him to lay a finger on me.”
“All give and no take. No wonder Prue found you to be an inadequate lover.”
He punches me in the gut as his friend walks up. His friend grabs both of my hands, yanking them behind my back.
This could’ve gone better. I probably should’ve walked in with a gun in my hands and shot Charles in his stupid fucking head the moment I saw him.
Though that would’ve been harder to sell.
It would’ve looked like cold-blooded murder instead of man slaughter.
I really didn’t expect him to be this unhinged. I’m a fucking idiot apparently.
His elbow smashes into my stomach, so hard I almost vomit from the impact. Another hit lands against my side, followed by more to the ribs.
“Jesus,” I groan when he steps back. “How did you not kill Prue? I’m impressed she survived with her brain still intact.”
“Obviously she didn’t if she went and ran off with you.” He spits in my face as he shouts.
“Are you going to fuck me or kill me? Kind of sending mixed messages.”
He rewards my witty remark with an elbow to the head. I’m seeing stars made up of Prue’s face which makes the pain a bit more bearable.
As another blow lands against my rib, I gag, spitting up mucus or blood. Hard to tell what color it is as my vision is blurred and my body in pure agony. I’m glad I walked in here thinking my life was over already, or the fact I’m about to die might suck.
If life really does flash before your eyes when you go, I hope it slows down at the short time I got to have Prue’s attention.
“You know it’s sad, really. Your band isn’t half bad. Maybe they’ll be even better without you in it.”
I want to say something snarky back, but my air supply seems to be a little limited at the moment, so I focus on trying to breathe instead. Part of me is desperate to survive this, if only to make sure he gets locked away and isn’t able to hurt Prue again.
“That’s enough,” his friend says. “If your hands are bruised, they could pin this on you. So just finish him and let’s go.”
“Bruised hands are the least of his concerns,” I mutter, laughing as more spit, blood or vomit dribbles out of the corners of my mouth.
“Lucky for me I have an alibi.” Charles laughs, punching me in the side again. He takes a few steps backwards. I allow my eyes to shut for a moment. When I hear a gun cocking, I open them. His friend pulls at my arms tighter, lifting my chest up more. “Any last words, fuck face?”
Well, I can’t say I’m surprised he brought a gun of his own. It’s not like he didn’t know I may have a weapon. Only mine is stashed in a drawer in the kitchen. Not my smartest moment, but I was hoping for the element of surprise.
I’m not going to survive this, but Prue will. He doesn’t know it. Charles believes he can get away with this, but he won’t be able to for long.
“Yes,” I say, trying to get a good view of the gun that is about to kill me before my eyes dart to the corner of the room. “I love you, Prue.”
The words barely leave my mouth before the sound of the gun going off fills the room. A sharp, ripping feelings spreads through my chest and if it hurts, I can’t feel it. The only thing I can feel is my head hitting the floor.
Sparks light up behind my eyes. Sky blue sparks with pin prick pupils that dance with desire, fury and maybe a hint of love.
Hopefully, the cameras were able to pick up the last thing I said. I want Prue to know she was the last thought that went through my mind before I died.