7. Vincent
“That’s it. Open your mouth wider. Leave your tongue out just like that,” I said to the nameless cocktail waitress as I watched my hard dick rest on her tongue. There was a poker game happening in the front for the last two hours, and I should be out there concentrating and making sure no player skimped me on any bet. But, what mattered most to me at this second was fucking this girl’s mouth raw and to teach her a lesson that was meant for me.
For the last three years, I did everything in my power to fuck Wendy out of my system, yet nothing worked. The void only grew bigger. The hurt only grew stronger. And I was lonely as fuck. Except, I deserved all the anguish I lived with every morning I awoke. I did this. Three years ago, I made a choice to push her away while destroying her in the process, and now I was suffering in the aftermath. A life without Wendy wasn’t a life at all. But what other choice did I have? Was I going to kill myself? No. That wasn’t a choice.
So here I was, watching my hands grip and disappear in this girl’s raven hair. She was probably no older than twenty-five. No different than the one from last night or the night before. Every inch of skin on me grew more numb from the day prior. I was turning into stone. No sensation. No passion. Nothing to get excited about. I woke up, ate, fucked, collected debts from morons who bet their lives across a green felt table, fucked some more, and went to sleep.
The cocktail waitress pulled her mouth away, gripping my cock with her nimble hands, a single tattoo on her index finger. “Is this what you want, Daddy?” She stared up at me with those ice-blue eyes that would set any man’s skin on fire and make his dick explode, but it wasn’t happening with me.
“No.” My dead tone closed her mouth, and she pressed my erection between her fat tits, readying my cock for a ride between those globes.
“Why’s Daddy in such a bad mood tonight?” She pouted, those red dick-sucking lips teased, but I didn’t want them. I didn’t want any of this.
“Don’t call me that.” Without a word, I eased back, slipping out of her grip. Her surprise mirrored in those orbs, but I didn’t care. “Get dressed,” I instructed, my voice as cold. She hesitated for a moment as if contemplating whether to argue or not. She must have seen something in my eyes because she chose not to. Instead, she moved around the room collecting her clothes, pulling on her scanty black lace dress that barely covered her round ass, and fixed her hair silently, in no rush.
As I watched her, I realized how absurd all this was. I was surrounded by everything a man could want: money, power, women ready to bed at a single command. Yet it was all meaningless. Every woman seemed like a pale imitation of Wendy. Every act was hollow without the spark of connection that only she provided.
“Get out,” I said once her clothes were back on. She looked at me momentarily before hurrying out of the room, leaving me alone with my life's infinite void. Days turned into weeks, then months, and still, every night was the same. Empty sex and rounds of poker with idiots who didn’t know when to quit. The monotony was broken occasionally by a brawl or two, and getting my hands dirty reminded me that I was barely alive.
The reason I abandoned Wendy three years ago came to a crashing halt about six months ago.
But what was I supposed to do? Just show up in New York at Wendy’s apartment, if she still lived there, and ask her to forgive me? There was no fucking way she ever would, and that wasn’t the plan when I fled three years ago. But my mind and heart kept begging me to try. Especially once the threat died.
As I lay in the revolving carousel of perfumed bodies every night, my thoughts would drift to Wendy. I’d remember the feel of her skin against mine, the taste of her lips, and the softness of her hair as it fell across my pillow. But most vividly, I’d remember her laughter, the sound that could make even the darkest days feel lighter. The sound was now just a painful whisper in my mind.
I still spoke to Zachary when he chose to answer my calls. I knew I was an outcast to Blair and, by defacto, my best friend. He chose to stay loyal to Blair, which meant ignoring my existence. I got it. He was willing to sacrifice for the woman he loved. Similar to what I did, except he didn’t rip Blair to pieces in the process. I often wondered how Wendy felt that night when she finally removed the blindfold, sticky in my cum and limbs trembling from how hard I had fucked her, only to be met with silence and an empty apartment.
Up until that night, I had never spoken to her that way, grabbed at her flesh the way I had, squeezed her neck until her face turned a harsh shade of red, but she never told me to stop. She kept going because that was how deep her trust ran in me. She should have never trusted me at all. And yet, my head wouldn’t stop the intrusive thoughts of finding a way to see her because I knew just how and who to ask.
My fingers dialed a familiar number I pinned to memory, and I waited for him to pick up. And on the fourth ring, he did.
“What the fuck do you want?” Zachary growled.
“Woah. Hello to you, too.” I backed my ear an inch from the phone, ensuring I still had hearing.
“I told you, if you call, it has to be during lunch.” Zachary’s teeth were definitely gritted if I still knew him well enough.
“What am I, some secret lover?” I laughed.
“First. I don’t fucking cheat and never on Blair, so don’t even start. Secondly, you’re worse than a side piece.”
“Oh yeah? How so?” I jammed my free hand under my arm.
“Because you’re you.” Zachary’s words cut like hot ice across my flesh. He was right. I was a piece of shit.
“Oh, well. Ouch.” I bit my cheek rather seriously.
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Vincent.” Zachary’s venom seeped through the phone and coated my eardrum.
“Okay, relax. I’m just calling to say hi.” I was a bad liar, squeezing my temple while preparing for the next onslaught of verbal fiery arrows.
“What do you want?” Zachary’s dead tone answered.
“Are we still friends?” I leaned against the window, pressing my forehead against the coolish glass. Ever since fleeing to Miami, I learned nothing felt chilled to the touch. Everything here was so fucking hot.
“You called to ask me if we’re still friends?” Zachary’s tone raised an octave.
“Well, no. I don’t know. You just seem very hostile right now.” I gestured to the empty space before me for no one to see.
“If Blair finds out we still talk, she’ll chop my dick off.”
“Is that really so bad?” I smirked before the growing lump in my throat threatened to cut off my air supply. “I have a favor to ask.”
“Ha! I can’t wait to hear this.” Zachary cleared his throat. “Try me.”
“I need to see Wendy,” I confessed quietly. There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Zachary let out a bitter laugh.
“You have got to be kidding me. Jesus Christ, Vincent!” He sounded more frustrated than angry now. “And how do you plan on doing that? I’m not telling you where she lives.”
“You know where she lives?” The thought hadn’t occurred to me, and I wanted to vomit all over the wood floor for not thinking to ask sooner. I knew once I had gotten rid of the threats, it would only be a matter of time until I couldn’t stay away. Why did I never think to ask Zachary about Wendy’s new home? He had told me she moved out of New York years ago, but he didn’t offer any more details, and I didn’t pry. Quite frankly, I didn’t deserve to know.
“Vincent, you’re being a real fucking asshole now. You can’t do this.” I expected Zachary’s anger to grow, but his voice suggested otherwise. He almost…softened?
“You know why I did what I needed to do. Only you get it.”
“No, I don’t understand what you did and never will. What we did back then was all about business. You made it personal, and look how it came back to haunt you. It ruined your fucking life.”
I had confided in Zachary why I left, and at first, he was beyond pissed at me. I was positive he would have cracked my jaw if I were standing before him when I confessed to my blundering. But, ultimately he agreed that I made the right move to leave Wendy. He just didn’t know how I left her, and knowing Wendy, I was almost positive she didn’t tell a soul.
“I remember you telling me how Sadie’s first birthday is coming up,” I started.
“Absolutely not!” Zachary shouted.
“I don’t want to go to the birthday. I mean, if you invited me, I’d be there. But I wanted to know if Wendy is going?” Beads of sweat erupted across my forehead, and tingles shot through my fingers.
“Vincent, I swear, I’ll fucking punch you.”
“I had a feeling.” I ran my finger along the smooth steel window frame as the sun’s rays spilled into the room, slashing my face. “Just tell me if she’s going to be in New York. I won’t go to the party, I promise. I just need to know if she’ll be there. And I won’t step foot in the party or in the building. I know you said you’re having it at your home.”
“Vincent. I am about to get on a plane to Florida and beat you the fuck up.”
“You’re just wasting your energy. I don’t feel anything anymore.”
Silence settled between us as our breaths penetrated through the other line.
“You're lying,” Zachary finally snapped. “I've known you for years, Vincent. If there's one thing I know for sure, you feel everything. You just hide it better than most.”
“I just need to know if she'll be there,” I reiterated.
Zachary sighed heavily over the phone. “If Blair sees you near our home, she’ll lose it.”
“I already told you I’m not coming to the party. I wouldn’t do anything to ruin your day or Sadie’s birthday.” I swallowed. “If I know Wendy will be in New York, that’s all I need to know. November thirteenth is the birthday, right?”
“Vincent…” Zachary trailed off, but his warning was my question’s answer. “I swear if you do anything to ruin that day, I’ll kill you.”
“You won’t need to kill me. I promise not to see you in a few days.” My finger hovered over the red end button.
“This is wrong, Vincent.”
“I’ll not see you soon.” And then I hung up. How could this be wrong? After years of punishment for Wendy and me, I felt like I was finally doing something right for the first time in a long time. Even if she did see me in less than a week and hatred filled her vision, I knew we wouldn’t end there.
Because, in the back of my mind, we weren’t finished. I just needed to make Wendy see there was still hope…for us.