Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Tori doesn’t answer the phone when I leave The Scrape. It’s been nearly three hours since I spoke to her.
There’s a beating in my chest, like a horse galloping all over it.
I pull up to the house and find Tori’s Bronco parked half in and half out of the open garage, next to my bike.
It’s very unlike her. She usually parks all the way in and closes the garage door when I’m not home. However, Maribel’s car is gone.
I park my truck under the car port and make my way inside. The house is quiet when I get inside, but the smell of steak quickly wafts around me. The living room is clean which isn’t exactly odd, but usually there’s toys scattered about.
The office door is cracked open, which Tori insists on leaving closed so the kids don’t go inside and mess with her equipment.
I push it open and look inside. Tori’s chair is on the ground and the only thing visibly out of place.
For someone obsessed with keeping things organized, her desk is very not organized…
so I wouldn’t know if something is misplaced.
“Tori?”
“Yeah!” I hear from across the house.
Moving swiftly through the living room, I yell out to her again. “Everythin’ go alright with Maribel?”
“Yeah.” It comes from the bedroom.
“Does your mom still have the kids?” The door to the bedroom is wide open but I don’t see her.
“Yeah,” her voice is now coming from the bathroom. I round the corner and find her walking into the closet.
“So, we have the night to ourselves.” I smirk, but my heart contradicts the gesture.
I lean against the closet’s door frame, watching her bending over in her underwear as she changes out of her clothes.
Something doesn’t seem right as I admire her ass.
It’s partially covered by the large shirt she’s wearing.
“Tori?” I say her name like a plea. She straightens her spine and, immediately, I know for sure it’s not her. Her hair is down and curly, versus up in a bun. Her waist is slightly smaller and hips are narrower.
“Hi, my love,” she turns around with a smile on her face. “I made us dinner. Steak, your favorite.” She saunters towards me. I back away.
“Maribel?” My hand drops to the gun on my hip, on instinct.
Suddenly grateful for my resolve to never leave the house without it.
And even more grateful for the chair being on the ground inside our office where I keep my safe and usually put the gun away as soon as I get home.
Had the chair not been on the floor I would’ve done just that.
“She’s at her house. Why do you ask?” Her brows scrunch together in their center.
“And who are you supposed to be?” I continue to back away, mentally mapping out my exit.
“It’s me Tori. Oh, are we role playing?” She points her finger in jest. “I love it. Then I’ll be Onyx.”
“Onyx,” I nod. Eyeing her up and down, she’s wearing Tori’s t-shirt although it fits a little loose.
Her hair is curly, although it’s not natural and completely different from her usually straight hair.
In this light I can see it darker too… so it almost matches Tori’s.
In our conversation earlier, we thought she had a thing for me.
Now, I think it has nothing to do with me and everything to do with Tori.
“So, Onyx is it. What brings you to my home? We agreed that it was a one-night thing. Your husband was out of town and my wife wasn’t expecting me until the next day. ”
“Did we? I think one night wasn’t enough. Don’t you?” She inches closer to me.
“I… I do think that.” I calculate the distance between her and I; between the door and me, and whether I can find a way to lock her in… but first I need to know where Tori is. “I’m only committed to my wife. One-night is all I can offer.”
“Aaron, come on now. You have to play along right.” She stretches out her arm. Two fingers crawl up my chest sending chills down my spine. I step back again and Maribel still wears that smile on her face like she thinks I’m falling for this act.
“I- uh- Where’s your husband tonight, Onyx?” I question, hoping she’ll think I’m willing to play.
She lets out a little giggle as she steps away from me. She turns to face herself in the mirror and examines her reflection. Her hand traces her neck as she treads her fingers through her curls. “I killed him.” She shrills loudly that it drifts into a giggling fit.
“Oh.” My mind reels into a raging red tornado. His death is not a joke. Yet, she’s making a mockery of Cal’s death. “How’d you do it?” I manage to question between my gritted teeth.
“With a gun. Shot him right through the heart,” she pouts and tilts her head in her reflection.
Her finger draws a heart over her chest, the sight unsettling.
How I wish I had my phone ready to record her.
I reach into my pocket the moment she twirls to her side, still facing the mirror.
I quickly open the recorder application and place it back in my pocket with the mic hanging out.
“Where’s your wife?” She meets my gaze in the mirror.
“She’ll be home any minute.” I answer, praying to god that she will walk in any second.
“Aaron… that’s not how we play.” She marches over to me. A sharp quick pain smacks me on my cheek as she slaps me incredibly hard.
“Well, Onyx,” I rub my cheek and swallow the metallic tang of my blood from where my teeth bit into my cheek. My thumb smears blood off my fat lip. “The first rule is not to break character, and you have. Twice.” I raise two fingers, not bothering to put a smile on my face.
“I’m sorry. I forgot… We’ll start over.”
“Okay… from the beginnin’.” I plaster on a fake smirk, but inside I rather wring her neck. “Where’s your husband?”
“He’s dead. I killed him.” She repeats herself, her lip curling into a smile. Her arms wrap around my neck. I yank her arms away from my body and pin them to her side.
“Why?”
“Because he had his first wife killed for cheating. So, I killed him before he could do the same to me.” She bites her button lip, just like Tori does when she’s trying to seduce me.
“Did you cheat?”
“Of course. Don’t you remember.” She rises to her toes and whispers in my ear. “You fucked me in the bathroom at The Scrape.”
“How’d he find out?” I play along, but my stomach is churning with each answer to my questions.
“I told him.” She nods excitedly as she trails her hands up my torso. Her lips kiss my collar bone and my stomach plummets.
“Why?” I tilt my head up to keep her from reaching my lips.
“He would’ve found out sooner or later.” She breathes. Her fingers dig into the nape of my neck. I fight her grip, not letting her tug my mouth to hers. Vile rises up my throat.
“Oh,” I swallow and push out of her arms, but staying near her so my phone can pick up her confession. “How’d you get away with it?”
“I pinned it on a friend who also cheated on his pregnant wife.” Maribel huffs at the distance between us and fidgets with her hair. “I got him drunk and high, held the gun to his head until he wrote the letter then shot him when he was done. It was too easy.”
The air fills my lungs as it all connects. I take another deep breath as the ache in my chest simmers with hate. “Tori?”
“Baby! You broke the rule again,” she pouts, stomping her bare feet on the ground.
“I’m sorry. You’re right I did.” An idea pops into my head and I walk out of the bathroom leading her with me. “Onyx, my wife will be here any minute.”
“Well, we should hurry.” She laughs as I throw her on the bed.
“You’re right. We should. I don’t know where she went or how long she will be.” I try again, hoping she’ll give me a real answer. I drop down to my knees and pull the trunk with our couples toys out from under the bed.
“I do,” she says in a sing-song voice. Her eyes assess the contents I place on the bed. Handcuffs. A spreader bar. Her eyes widen with each item I place down on the bed. Rope. Paddle. And butt plug to scare her.
“You do. Where is she?” I grab her ankle and slide it into one of the spreader cuffs. The pit in my stomach growing with each frantic beat of my heart. Maribel’s free foot slides up my forearm as I work. It’s like acid to my skin as I swallow down more vile.
Tori. Where’s Tori? My soul is begging to know.
“Dead.”
My heart stops. I squeeze her other foot and push it into the spreader.
Her hazel eyes meet mine… nothing like Tori’s.
Nothing beautiful or kind within them. I’m on her, turning her onto her stomach.
She screams in pain when her legs struggle to keep up.
I handcuff her hands behind her back and grab the paddle.
“What do you mean dead?” I growl into her ear, pushing her back onto the bed.
“Aaron, you’re hurting me,” Maribel squeals.
“Cut the shit Maribel.” I pull the phone out of my pocket and throw it on the bed. My hand grasps the paddle hard and smacks it across her lower back, right above her ass. She screams in pain. “What do you mean dead?”