The Filthy Series: The Complete Dark Erotic Serial Novel (10 page)

“I want it,” I said immediately, cutting to the chase. My body throbbed, ached desperately needing the high to feel better.

“It’s all yours.”

My mouth fell open in shock and jubilation and I reached forward, anxious to snatch it from his hand, but he jerked it away before I could touch it.

“Ah, ah, ah.” He shook his head. “I want something from you, Faye baby.”

And I was back there again in that pink little bed. But this time I wasn’t full of love for the man who loomed over me. I was full of hate, of broken memories and shattered dreams. I was a whore who needed her fix. I had left this house to get away from him. I had turned to faceless men and drugs to try and wash his memory from my mind and body and yet here I was again. Every memory still intact, just as lost, maybe even more so than the day I left.

“Okay.” I heard the word come from my lips as if someone else had said it. Somewhere in my head I screamed at myself. I begged myself not to do this. Not again. Not him. Never. Never.
Never.
But the me on the outside didn’t listen. Instead I took Taylor’s hand with anticipation, ready try the pure cocaine, ready for his dick to be inside me.

“That’s my girl.” He pulled me toward the mirror making me face it so I could watch as he unzipped my skirt and slid it down my waist until gravity took over and it slithered to the floor.

He sucked in a breath at the sight of my bare ass. “No panties, baby?” He smacked a big hand against one cheek. “God I’ve missed you.”

I heard his own zipper. The sound deafening in the small space. I expected him to plunge in, to shove into me, but he didn’t. Instead he stepped to my right and shook some of the powder on the counter in a straight line. My mouth watered, my nose itched and I reached up and rubbed it, smearing more blood. Only my left nostril was bleeding. I could still snort with my right.

“You don’t get it until I say so. Understand?” His voice was authoritative. A sound that should have haunted me, but it didn’t. I pushed everything away and focused on the moment. On the bliss I would soon feel. He moved behind me and I heard him rip something open, a package. A glance in the mirror showed it to be a condom he was rolling over his thick cock.

I have an STD.

I smirked. If there was anyone who deserved one, it was him. But he wasn’t going to get it.

Taylor reached forward and brushed a hand against my cunt. His fingers slipped easily through the slippery folds. “Fuck, Faye baby. You’re so wet. So wet for me.”

I wanted to deny it, but I couldn’t. I
was
wet for him. My cunt was fucking throbbing for him alone. It was sick, fucking disgusting, but I wanted it. I wanted it almost as much as I wanted the line of coke tempting me on the counter.

“Tell me how bad you want me.” He smacked my ass again, fisting his cock.

“Bad,” I bit out. “Fuck me. Please.”

He didn’t hesitate, slamming his dick into my pussy. The force pressed me against the counter. I looked down watching the blood drip from my nose into the sink. He pulled out and slammed into me again, wrenching a moan from my lips.

“Oh, Faye baby. I missed that sound. That sweet fucking sound.” He pistoned his hips again triggering the same noise.

He pumped faster. And that’s when I felt it. The pressure building deep inside me.

What am I doing? I can’t do this.

But the sick part of me pushed those thoughts away at the same time I pressed my ass back against Taylor, meeting his thrusts with my own. He took a step back and continued pounding into me, our skin slapping together. I bent at the waist pressing my face closer to the line of heaven.

“Not yet,” he growled and I obeyed. I moved my face to the left to keep the blood from splattering on it. “I want to hear you say it.”

His words reverberated in my head, bouncing around. I knew what he wanted, what he was asking for. I didn’t want to give it. The stubborn part of me didn’t want to give him that too. I was already giving him my body, my cunt, something I swore he would never have again. And yet here I was pressed against my bathroom sink, him fucking me ruthlessly from behind.

A moan escaped my lips, but the word didn’t.

“Say it, Faye.” His grip tightened on my waist, his nails biting into my skin. “Say it and it’s yours.”

My eyes fixated on the bump I wanted so badly. The sweet drug that would pull me under. It would save me from reality for a few blissful moments. And that’s what I wanted. Needed.

Don’t say the word.

“Daddy,” I moaned.

“Fuck, yeah. That’s my girl. Take it.” His voice was somewhere between a groan and gravel, rumbling against my skin. The sweetest words I had ever heard.

I leaned in shoving two fingers roughly against my bleeding nostril and pressing my nose down to the line. I didn’t hesitate. Didn’t bask in that blissful moment of desperation before sucking the blow into my body. I just breathed in taking it all, the sweet bitter heaven I’d been looking for. And then my body erupted—like some fucking volcano I exploded, the orgasm wracking through me while the drug burned away at my nose, my body, hell, my very soul. I seemed to collapse in on myself with the power of it all thrumming through me.

And then I heard him groan a sound so familiar I wanted to cling to it and shove it away all at once. I pushed myself up on weak arms and gazed into the mirror, meeting eyes with the woman looking back. I didn’t know who she was, this bloody, junkie who had just orgasmed on her step-father’s cock for a line of blow.

She was a stranger. And I wished I could leave her there in that bathroom with the blood and the drugs, with the cock that was sliding out of her. But I knew I couldn’t.

She was my stranger. My demon.
Me.

FIVE

I stared out the window at the darkening sky, watching the Dallas skyline grow closer with each passing second. I was empty and full all at once, ever since I left the bathroom and joined the real world again. The world where my mother was dead and my family was just down the hall mourning her. The people who would never know the things I had done in the bathroom just up the stairs.

I’d cleaned myself up to some sort of semblance of decency, though I didn’t really succeed. I knew I looked like hell. I was in hell, so there was no avoiding it. The conversations that took place after that all blurred together. Maybe it was the coke, the sweet drug that carried me through the rest of the afternoon making everything surreal. It seemed impossible everyone didn’t know. That the house didn’t crumple from the weight of my sins, from the filth that clung to my skin.

“You okay?”

I glanced over at Rhett. He sat in the driver’s seat next to me. Sarah had gone home early, catching a ride with someone else, leaving me to ride home with Rhett alone.

“Yeah, right.”

He nodded. “Yeah…rough day.” The fire and hate that had been in his eyes earlier were gone.

I snorted. “You’re telling me.”

We were both quiet for several minutes. I let the silence permeate my skin. I soaked it in, letting the soft rumble of the car and the hum of the radio dance around in my mind. But then the song changed to
that
song. The one my mom had been singing the last time I saw her. The last time I stared at her in her pink workout clothes, mixing a smoothie in her kitchen. “Lights” by Journey.

I reached over and turned it up. The smooth melody washed over me. When Steve Perry started singing I turned it up louder and started singing along, letting the words fill me up. The words she loved. It had been her favorite song and I could remember being strapped in my car seat as a kid, with the song blaring from the speakers and her and I singing along at the top of our lungs.

I glanced over at Rhett and the perplexed look on his face as he stared back.

“She loved this song,” I said loudly.

Something flickered across his face before he turned back to the road. A sad smile, but I wasn’t sure. I hadn’t seen him smile in such a long time I couldn’t be certain he was capable.

But then he started singing too. His voice carrying right along with Steve Perry’s. I rolled my window down and cranked the radio up as loud as it could go and started belting the lyrics to the world, shouting them to the sky, to the heavens if my mom had found some way to get in there. It didn’t sound pretty. But I didn’t care, and I knew she wouldn’t care either. My mom had never been able to carry a note. Neither of us had. But we would sing this song and not give a care in the world. It was moments like that. Those little moments that made my whole shitty life as her daughter worth it. They made me remember that she was just a flawed human being, a selfish person who didn’t know how to love anyone but herself. But it didn’t change the fact that she was my mom. Like the demon inside myself I couldn’t change it, no matter how much I wanted to.

When the song ended, I looked over at Rhett again. His window was down too, and I had the distinct feeling that he too, had been belting the lyrics to heaven and hell alike.

He reached down and turned the radio off. “Tell me the story about the song.”

I considered telling him no, but then I realized I wanted to tell him. I needed to tell someone. “She loved it. Ever since I was a kid. She would turn it up and we would sing it like it was our last time.”

A smile crooked his lips. A real one, one so handsome it nearly made me forget how angry I was at him.

“She had it on a cassette tape and would rewind it over and over so we could listen to it.” Tears pricked at my eyelids. “And you know how finicky those tapes were. You had to rewind it just right to get it right at the beginning of the song.”

He nodded. “Or you’d have to listen to half a song you didn’t want to because you didn’t want to deal with fast-forwarding it again.”

A laugh escaped my lips the same time a tear dripped onto my cheek. “When we lived at home and it was just me and her, she would play this on our stereo while we cleaned house. We would dance around singing into our brooms like we were real rock stars.”

“She had me bring it to her.”

I frowned and glanced over at him, pulling my knees up under my chin. “What?”

“The old cassette tape. She still had it.”

“What? No. She couldn’t have.”

He nodded. “It was in a box of old things she had in the attic. She had me find it for her at the end.” He laughed sadly. “She never told me why.” He glanced over at me. “I went to about a hundred thrift stores trying to find an old portable tape player she could plug headphones into.”

“So she could listen to the song we just heard?” My voice trembled.

“Yes. I had to fast-forward it for her.” He paused. “Her hands were too weak to press the buttons.”

The tears came faster raining down on my cheeks. “Why didn’t she want a CD of it? I know she had one.”

“The tape was special to her.” He looked over at me, his green eyes shiny from unshed tears. “Maybe she wanted to go back there. Back to dancing around with her daughter in the living room. Back to before that little girl ran away.”

A horrible ache slammed into my chest as I sucked in a labored breath. “She’s not the only one who wished things could be different.” I shook my head hard. “But we’ll never know if they could have been. I’ll never know because she died and you kept me from that last goodbye.”

He was quiet for a minute. The only noise between us, my sobs, even more pathetic than Sarah’s earlier in the day.

“You ran away.” He said the words like they hurt him, like they ripped a hole in chest just thinking about it.

“Really?” I snarled. “Did I? Did I run away Rhett? Gee, I didn’t know!”

“Yes, you did. You would have just hurt her if you had seen her. She didn’t need that. Didn’t need your spiteful words and your hate. She was barely alive.”

“Well that wasn’t your fucking call to make!” I shouted.

“It was. And I made it and I’m still glad I did it.”

“I hate you so much. You’re a monster.” I ran my hand over my face smearing the tears.

“Huh. I’m the monster? You’re the one who yelled at your mother’s dead body this morning.”

A horrid cry wrenched from my chest and I turned away from him, unable to look at him anymore. I don’t know why it hurt so much that he was the one who kept me from seeing her, that he was the one sitting here saying these things to me, but it did. Maybe it was because he was the one who had been good to me. The one who had never hurt me. I expected it from Taylor, from my mom. But not Rhett. He had been different. But not anymore.

“Let me out of the car.” I jerked at the handle. “Let me out right now.” The truth of his words slammed into me.

I yelled at my mom at her funeral. I punched Rhett after I fondled his cock in the middle of a cemetery. And finally I fucked the man who took my virginity at nine years old, the man who raped me. I orgasmed around his cock for some fucking blow that has already worn off.

“I need out now!”

“Fuck, Faye.” Rhett pulled the car over on the shoulder, cars zoomed past us as I threw the door open. “Wait.” He grabbed my arm before I could lunge out. “Look I’m sorry.”

I glanced up and met his gaze. He looked so hurt, so vulnerable. “I should have told you. I should have picked you up last week and brought you to see her. I
fucking
know that. But I didn’t. And you know why? Do you want to know the real reason?”