7. Chapter Seven

Eternal Disorder - BertieBanz

With Indie safely escorted off the property, I head back to my trailer eager to get something in my system to numb the intense feelings coursing through me. I fucked up tonight. I never should've taken her, and I definitely shouldn't have tasted her.

Branded her.

Something in me couldn't help it. Even knowing I can never have her, in some twisted fucking fantasy I've created in my head. She'll always be mine.

But at least in my fantasy, she's safe from my demons, and all the demons that crawl through the halls of Cirque Du Désir.

I open the door and step up inside my trailer. It shakes under my weight as I slam the door closed behind me. My boots crush the styrofoam containers still scattered around the floor from earlier, as I grab the bottle of Crown Royal I left on the table and slide the mask up my face enough that I can bring the bottle to my lips. I welcome the burn of the liquor as it glides down my throat and rids any taste of Indie still coating my tongue.

My cock is still hard. Even with the remnants of her sweetness gone from my mouth, the vision of her coming undone over me still remains in my head. Her sweet sounds replay like echoing whispers. Nothing will free me from the haunting memories of the show I witnessed tonight.

Of Indie.

Two loud bangs on the door signal Dolly's arrival just as I sit down on the couch. I was expecting her. Figured she would have something to whine about after I ripped Indie from those freaks. I bring the bottle to my lips again, and guzzle down more of the amber liquid before pulling my mask down over my face.

This conversation isn't going to go well.

"Well that was just fucking perfect. What the hell were you thinking?" She snaps as she lets herself inside. Her blonde hair is a mess and it's clear she took a dick or two tonight. She reeks of dirty pussy and cigars. At first, I don't respond, instead I just glare at her. I don't owe her or anyone else an explanation. I run this shit.

"Hello? You just gonna sit there and ignore me?" She adds, kicking my leg with the toe of her boot. "The cirkies are rioting over what you did tonight."

"Let them," I growl. Slowly turning my gaze to her.

"Right, cause that will solve the issue. What were you thinking, taking a customer from them? You know the fucking rules, Lux. You made them!"

"Damn fucking right I did!" I snap, pushing myself to my feet. "You know, I don't understand how many times in one night we need to have this fucking conversation, Dolly. How many times have you watched me take out anyone who challenges me? Anyone who refuses to do what they're told?" She rolls her eyes with annoyance. "I made the fucking rules, which means if I want to break them, I will, and I don't give a rats ass who has a problem with it." I grip the neck of the bottle tightly in my hand as I bring myself to stand before her.

"So let me get this straight. You hound their ass to make money, bitch about being broke and not making enough, and then go and take a fucking customer from Johnny?"

"I'll take whatever I want, from you or any of the cirkies. Last I checked you all had nothing before I came into your pathetic lives. Every single one of you is alive today, because I found you and I gave you a better way of living. A fucking roof over your head. Don't get shit twisted."

"That may be true, but you coudn't run this fucking place with out us! Besides, you've never gotten involved before. Not once have you fucked around with any of the customers. So why her?"

The question annoys me. I don't know who this bitch thinks she is, but she's clearly due for a reality check. A reminder of who is in charge. I don't have to answer to her, to any of them. Cirque Du Désir is my fucking show. Mine. They work for me, not the other way around.

"Careful, Dolly. You almost sound jealous." I chuckle, as I brush past her toward the kitchen area. Opening the fridge I pull out left overs from the chinese place in town.

"So what if I am?" She shouts, slamming the fridge door shut. "I've been helping you run this place since the day you found me. No one knows you or your bullshit better than me. Do you really mean to tell me that you'd prefer the first girl, who you let touch you in years, to be some farmer's daughter, when it could be someone who knows and accepts you? Someone who knows what it takes to please a guy like you." she explains. Her tone changes from anger to seduction as she steps closer to me.

"Dolly…" I hiss as I back away. "You don't know a damn thing about my past. So, unless you want things to get very ugly tonight, I suggest you learn your fucking place and get the fuck back to work."

She sighs. "Don't be like that, okay? I'm just trying to understand what the hell is going on." Dolly places her hand on my forearm calmly and lifts her eyes to mine. Her touch nauseates me. My mind and body are suddenly repulsed by any touch that isn't Indie's. Slowly, her hand lifts to my mask, and she brushes her fingers across the cracked surface of the plastic. "Take this off" she whispers softly.

"No!" I snap as I push her hand away. She fights me, and as fast as I push her arm away, the other replaces it, bumping the mask from my face.

"What the fuck!" she shrieks as she recoils with disgust. "Lux, what the hell happened to you?"

I don't answer. Not with words anyways. Swinging my arm back, I bring the bottle of whiskey down on her face, instantly silencing her. Bones crack with the impact and her body drops to the floor. My blood boils as I follow her body to the floor, continuing my assault.

Why. Did. She. Have. To. Touch. Me.

I told her not to.

She didn't listen, just like The Man.

He never listened when I said no either.

I smash the bottle into her head over and over. Splatters of blood and brain matter paint my vinyl kitchen floor and cupboards, but I don't stop.

All it took was one wrong move for her to break the dam holding back years of pent up anger and frustration. Tonight was not the night to fuck with me. Not after what's happened.

Not after her.

Indie. My Indie.

My thoughts find their way back to her. To the way she smelt, tasted. Those beautiful brown eyes and her perfect fucking skin. My cock begins to harden. I pause, and drop the blood coated bottle to the floor before using my teeth to pull off my leather glove. Sitting back on my knees, I run my gloveless hand through the crimson pooling on the floor around Dolly's beaten body, and spread it around my scarred fingers. Fuck it's so warm. Soft, like liquid silk against my skin.

Using my free hand, I unbuckle my belt, freeing my cock from the confinements of my jeans. I wrap my bloodied hand firmly around my shaft. Painting my cock in her blood as I slowly stroke it while looking down on her corpse. Her face is smashed in, yet her voidless eyes can still be made out through the carnage. They face away from me, looking directly under the small dining table next to her. One bloodied arm is up over her head, and the other across her chest. A chest that no longer rises and falls.

Because Dolly is dead, and I killed her.

I stroke faster. Though my eyes are fixated on the dead women before me, my head is filled with Indie. It"s not Dolly's blood coating my cock, it's Indie's juices. Those sweet goddamn juices, and it's not my hand, it's her tight cunt squeezing my cock. I pump myself faster as pre-cum leaks from the tiny slit on the end of my dick. Using my thumb I spread it up and down my shaft, mixing it with Dolly's blood.

Turning my attention to the hole smashed into the side of her head, I take in the pieces of her skull that lay shattered on the floor next to her. Blood drips from the fresh and fatal wound, dropping to the pool of blood beneath her.

Drip. Drip.

But I don't hear it. Instead, I hear Indie's sweet moans.

Her cries of pleasure as she begs me not to stop.

"I won"t stop, baby. I'll never fucking stop."

Fuck.

Drip. Drip.

Indie was dripping earlier tonight too. Dripping fucking wet for me.

She dripped all her sweet goodness right into my mouth and allowed me to saviour her. Just like I'm savouring the cooling of Dolly's blood on my cock.

"I told you not to push me, Dolly. I fucking warned you" I shout at her corpse. Faster, harder I pump myself. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and sweat beads down my face. "Why'd you have to touch me? I don't like to be touched. You fucking knew that."

At least I never used to. Now there"s only one touch I want to feel.

It's not mine. It's not The Man's either.

No. Tonight, it's Indie's touch that I envision. Her pretty little pussy squeezing my cock. It's the feel of her juices glistening down me as I thrust up inside her. Filling her with every inch of me.

With my free hand, I tear the thin fabric of Dolly's blouse open. She has no bra underneath which isn't surprising since despite her name, she was never one to get all dolled up before a show. Her deflated tits sag to the sides. Exposed in the dim yellow lights of the trailer. I slap them around with my free hand. Bringing my hand down hard on them while I continue to jerk my cock to the sight of her. Finally silenced.

"What's wrong, Dolly? Nothing to say now huh? Yeah…" Resting on my knees, I shuffle myself closer to her. Dragging my knees through the blood on the floor until I'm kneeling right above what"s left of her face. "Look at you. All that work to get clean and you still ended up right where you belong. Dead. Least your dumb ass provided me with the perfect fucking lube. Little ketchup packet. That's what I'll mark on your grave." I spit.

I pick up the pace, thrusting my hips as the iron rich scent of her blood fills the air around my small kitchen.

Staring at Dolly's ruined and tainted skin only reminds me of how fucking perfect Indie's is. My cock throbs with my fist wrapped around its hardened girth. I'm so fucking close.

My head fills with images of Indie's smooth, soft and dewy skin. Pure and clean. Nothing like mine. At least it wasn't, before tonight.

Now she's scarred like me.

A small imperfection. A branding.

"So fucking close."

That only her and I know about.

Our little secret.Indie's and mine.

I grab Dolly's chin with my free hand, and force her empty gaze to mine.

"That's it bitch. You wanted to see me. Well, here you fucking go, take it all in, Dolly. Ain't I fucking pretty?" My balls tighten and my body tenses.

"Fuck," I growl as my body convulses and my cock empties itself all over Dolly's mutilated face. Streams of hot cum shoot out, coating her thick fake eyelashes. The euphoric wave washes through me like it's cleansing me of my sins. Ironic, since I just killed someone and am getting off to the very sight of her.

But it's not her that blessed me with the release I needed so fucking badly. It was Indie. All the thoughts of her from the short time I spent with her tonight managed to bring me to the edge. I fuck my fist, ensuring every fucking drop finds it's way to the disgusting bag of skin I once called my manager.

Gently, I brush the blood soaked hair from her white face.

"Forgive me Dolly, for I have sinned. Lord knows that even the Devil himself won't."

Tucking my cock back in my jeans, I slowly stand up, and button them up.

This is why I have to keep Indie away. From me. From the cirkies. Indie is too good and too pure for this shit. Yet I saw the look in her eyes as they dragged her away, and I recognize it. She'll come back, and when she does, I don't know if I will be able to resist her.

For the first time in my life, I find myself hoping for one less customer at tomorrow night"s show.