23. Rain

H er own father is clapping.

Reminds me of mine.

Flashes of my cleansing invade my mind. They are clear, vivid images. How he cupped me. Had his friends watch as I lay in the copper tub. Then how I prepared for him later, where he had me on that table ready for the taking. He just stood back and watched. He was going to let it happen. Until Elijah Sinclair saved me. Freed me. Owned me.

Where did that get my father? Dead.

Francesca’s father is no better.

I watch as she dangles before us. Feet pointed to the ground, exposed and mutilated. She was going to ruin my family. She had to go.

Him.

He has betrayed his blood. He doesn’t deserve to live another minute.

I wonder if E feels the same.

He hated his mom. She betrayed him terribly. Never picking him first. My poor boy.

Thankfully, his dad isn’t like our past experiences. Nathaniel is like my mom. My eyes go bright while my lips curl, smiling. I wish she were here to experience this. They would have gotten along wonderfully.

But, instead, she's here in spirit. Always.

E jumps off the table and walks over to me. He raises his mask, exposing his face, then raises mine as he grips the back of my head and smashes his lips into mine. His teeth nip at me as he devours everything I give him. My hands grip his shirt, needing him closer to me. Our tongues battle for dominance as they become intertwined with one another. My nose is pressed tightly against his face, and I use his lungs for oxygen, breathing in through my mouth as we continue to kiss. E’s lashes tickle me, and a chill tingles up my spine as I rise to my tiptoes. Our breathing gets heavy, and his cock strains against his pants as he grinds his hips into me. Opening my eyes, they look up to his. They are already open looking at me.

I’ve never done this, kissed with open eyes like this. But it feels more intimate, seeing into each other's souls during our battle of passion.

His grip against my head weakens, and his mouth pulls back as I lean in. The tip of my nose rubs against his before settling back down on my feet. We still keep eye contact as he mouths silently, “Don’t worry.”

We both lower the black masks again over our exposed faces.

His hand gently touches mine, rubbing my palm in slow circles as he looks around the space, plotting. The movements abruptly stop. E knows exactly what he’s going to do. I smile under my mask in delight.

He leads the way as he begins walking toward the staircase. I scurry after him, not wanting to be left behind, completely forgetting I couldn’t as my leash is still in his hand.

Casually, he steps down each stair. I hold on to the cool railing against my hand, not wanting to trip, as the dim lighting makes it hard to see while stepping down each black step.

Reaching the main floor, we walk hand in hand toward his uncle Gregory, his dad, and a few others.

A bright light coming from beside me catches my attention. It’s quick. As the door opens and then closes, it’s gone. All that remains is that girl with the latex mask, but this time she is naked with only the mask left on. Something catches her eye. I follow where she is focused, and once I see where she is looking, I’m shocked.

Nathaniel Sinclair.

A glint of light catches his eye and I can see him looking back at her.

Shifting my eyes between the two, I watch to see who makes the first move.

The girl in the latex does. She steps away from where she is standing and walks away from the main room, disappearing down a dark hall. Nate catches me watching. His eyes widen through the holes in his mask. I bring my finger to my lips, zipping them closed and pretending to throw away the key. His shoulders relax. As we both focus back on E and his uncle, who are speaking.

It doesn’t seem as if anyone else noticed Nate and I, all attention is on the two men before us.

E shouts over the loud music, “I can barely fucking hear you, old man,” while motioning toward the outside.

Uncle Gregory steps forward and motions, after you.

We lead the way, with me and E still hand in hand, walking through the commotion of sweaty bodies, clouds of smoke and endless piles of drugs and booze. Those already initiated seem to be treating this as a party or rave of sorts. I feel claustrophobic. My chest races as my eyes squeeze shut. I need to get out of here. E can sense my distress. His casual walk has turned into brisk steps. He has reached back, nudging me to go ahead of him. As I do, he engulfs me in his arms, protecting me from outside factors.

Reaching the end of the room, we are standing in front of the beautiful, large windows. The moon is bright, reflecting off the river below. This property is stunning.

E reaches out, turning the glass door handle, and pushes it open. The fresh air washes over us, and I close my eyes briefly as I breathe it in. The smell of nature invades me. My body relaxes, feeling peaceful again.

I step into the wooden deck which branches off to the side of the house, then up the stairs to a larger deck space.

The space is empty. Just the three of us.

Lounge sets and outdoor living furniture decorate the area, along with space heaters. This must be one of many outdoor spaces, as there isn’t any sign of its use.

I presume we are going to take a seat and begin to walk toward the plush outdoor couch, but my body is pulled in the opposite direction, compliments of my leash. It nips at my fresh clit piercing which stings. A hiss sneaks out between my teeth.

Spinning around, I see we are headed to the ledge.

A breeze passes by, and the leaves in the trees rustle. The sound of moving water catches my attention. I find it soothing. My eyes are captivated by it, watching the current move it. The stars shine bright alongside the moon. I look toward E, curious if we can raise our masks. He still has his own on, so I leave mine as well.

“Nephew, you did well this evening,” his uncle states as he comes to stand next to me, looking out into the distance. His cologne is strong, I scrunch my face at the smell. I hate it. It is overwhelmingly musky, in the worst way.

We don’t acknowledge his statement.

E’s cheek presses against the side of my head, his lips whispering in my ear, so only I can hear, “Let’s see if he can fly, little bat.”

I want to smile with glee. Clap my hands at the excitement. As below us, the river is shallow with sharp mountain rock lining the edges.

Gregory turns to face E, who is standing behind me still. His back leans casually against the deck railing. His hands are in his trouser pockets as he crosses one foot over the other.

“Come on then. What did you want to discuss, nephew?”

In response, E’s foot rises, bending slightly at the knee, before shooting back out and connecting with his uncle's abdomen.

He is caught completely off guard. As his body tips backward, his hands reach out of his pockets and his arms circle, looking for balance, which they never find.

With raised feet, he falls back. Loud hollers echo around us.

Lifting my mask, I look back at E, who has his own in his hand. My brows rise as the largest smile adorns my face. “Thank you.”

He shakes his head at me in response. His dark, floppy hair hangs over his forehead as the skeleton face tattoo looks exquisite in the night light. The look on his face responds back to me, don’t be silly, I live for this shit.

My brow furrows as I realize, “E, shouldn’t there have been a splash?”

He tilts his head, his face concentrated. Nothing. No splash, no moans of pain. It’s too quiet.

We both hold on to the railing and lean over, looking for the dead body. Scanning the river, nothing is floating, nor are there traces of blood. Moving to the rocks, they are clean of any debris.

An evil laugh erupts from E’s mouth as he points down directly below us. Neither of us could have seen this happening with the darkness encompassing us.

His uncle didn’t make it to the river or the rocks.

A broken-off thick, sharp tree branch sticking up from the earth has impaled itself through Gregory’s chest. His body hangs limp in the air.

I join in laughing.

What a fucking night!

Then I realize, he sort of died similarly as my own evil father. The difference is that I stabbed the sharp dagger into his chest many times. Whereas nature stabbed Gregory for us.

I don’t think it's a coincidence.

This all happened how it was supposed to.

Leaning back down, we begin walking toward the house. E pulls his phone out, his fingers moving quickly. Not even thirty seconds later, it vibrates.

I peek over to see who he is texting, not because I don’t trust him, but because I am absolutely nosey.

Text Chain:

If you want to say goodbye, best do it before the cleanup crew arrives.

Dad

*eye roll emoji*

I laugh at his dad’s reply. I love their relationship.

Sliding his phone back into his pants pocket, E blows out a deep breath.

“Let’s go home, little bat.”