29. Wes

Chapter twenty-nine

Wes

L ayne lays sleeping next to me after opening up to me last night. Finally, I feel like we are making progress, and I will do whatever she needs to keep moving forward. I just don’t want to lose her to herself. I want so desperately to take her pain within myself just so her soul won’t hurt anymore. All the memories that torment her, that bend her mind and break her heart. If only for a moment, I could provide her with slight relief. I would.

Layne, I want to mend our broken pieces together. Maybe the only way to be whole is if we’re together. The pieces of her broken soul fitting into the empty spaces of mine, making each other complete.

After giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead, I carefully slide out of bed and walk towards my desk. Once there, I quickly grab my laptop before leisurely making my way over to the couch. I fire it up and log into my email to download all the files from work. Corbin Bannister. I sit on the couch and feel the anger coursing through my veins as I open the files one by one, containing all the information I have gathered about him so far. His dark past, his manipulation, and the pain he has inflicted on others. It’s sickening.

I meticulously plan my next moves. Placing a tracker on him is crucial to gather evidence and expose his true nature. I know it won’t be easy, but for the safety of other children, I’m willing to do whatever it takes. With a deadline of three weeks, my aim is to uncover Bannister’s secrets and ensure he meets his fate at the edge of my knife.

The deeper I dig, I uncover even more disturbing information about his past. The extent of his cruelty is unimaginable. He has always lacked decency as a person. From engaging in the exploitation of women, taking children exclusively for the purpose of sexually abusing them, including his own daughters. It only fuels my need to kill him.

I stay awake, sifting through the information, unable to sleep with all the depravity I have now uncovered. Leaving my laptop open on the coffee table; I make my way to the fridge and pull out an energy drink. Trying to be as quiet as possible, I crack it open. Making my way across the room, I grab my cigarettes before stepping out onto the balcony. Caffeine and nicotine, the breakfast of champions. I gaze at the water while the sun rises behind clouds.

Another cold and dreary day. Typical San Francisco weather.

My gaze drifts back inside. Layne’s still asleep in bed. I stub out my cigarette in the little glass ashtray Layne bought in a Berkeley shop for me. The door closes quietly behind me. I quickly grab a sweatshirt and trainers from the closet to squeeze in a workout before getting ready for work.

Exercising in the refreshing chill bay breeze adds an invigorating element to the workout experience. As I lace up my trainers, I can feel the anticipation building. The energy drink courses through my veins, awakening my senses and sharpening my focus. Each breath of bay air reminds me of the world beyond my troubled mind .

I begin my workout routine, pushing myself to the limits. The rhythmic pounding of my feet on the pavement echoes in harmony with the crashing waves. Sweat drips down my brow, mingling with the salty mist that hangs in the air. With each rep, I feel the weight of the depravity I discovered earlier slowly dissipating.

As the sun continues its ascent into the sky, casting a faint glow over the gray clouds, I find solace in the water’s chaos. It mirrors the turmoil within me, a constant reminder of the battles fought and the demons confronted. The sound of seagulls overhead breaks the silence, their cries piercing through the early morning haze.

With my workout complete, I take a moment to catch my breath. The combination of caffeine, nicotine, and physical exertion has left me feeling alive, revitalized. I take one last look at the water, silently thanking it for not taking my Layne from me all those years ago.

Quietly slipping back into the apartment, I find Layne still lost in dreams and I can’t help but envy the peacefulness that envelops her. I head into the bathroom, starting up the shower, letting it heat I strip out of my workout clothes. Stepping inside, I stand under the spray of the hot water. It cascades over my tired body, washing away the remnants of the earlier morning’s revelations.

As I get ready for work, the weight of the day ahead settles upon my shoulders. But the invigorating effects of the morning workout linger, providing a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness. I dress, ready to face the world, armed with resilience gained from confronting depravity directly. Layne greets me in the kitchen, handing me a container with my breakfast and lunch inside.

Look at us. All domestic and shit. My wife packing me my lunch for work. Something I never saw happening until I saw her.

I kiss her goodbye, stepping out, determined to make a difference, even in my small world. The chilly breeze brushes against my face, a reminder of the challenges that lie ahead. In time, Corbin Banister will pay for his crimes, and I will be his judge, jury, and executioner.

Fuck this day. Fuck my job, I can’t deal with the idiocy that is the American justice system today. How the fuck does a judge throw out an entire case on a whim? Luckily, this has nothing poor to reflect on me or my job performance. Davis is shitting bricks because this all falls on him. It’s baffling how he failed so terribly on the first day of court, and all the other investigators are equally puzzled. Now we have to deal with this motherfucker throwing a whiny bitch kiddie tantrum around the office. I pull out my phone and text the one person I know who can keep my head on straight.

Wes: Baby, I need motivation to not kill people today.

Layne: I can’t fuck you if you’re in prison, Wes.

My phone pings again and it’s a picture of Layne in a cropped t-shirt with no bra and a black thong.

Wes: Fuck…that’s pretty good motivation.

Layne: Hurry home! I have a surprise for you.

It’s one-thirty now. How the fuck am I supposed to last until four o’clock with that image sitting on my phone? I pull out the bag that Layne packed my lunch in, taking out the contents and putting them on my desk. I’ll eat in my office, hoping to avoid Davis’s whiny ass. The food that sits in front of me has me smiling like a little kid, god I love my woman .

Layne made me a steak salad from last night’s leftovers. Plus, homemade oatmeal raisin cookies. Oatmeal raisin is my favorite cookie, and somehow she has hidden them, expertly, in my home without me finding them. I know when I get home I’m going to be tearing that kitchen apart to find the rest of them. I unwrap them and take a bite.

Good fucking Christ. I think I just came. I lean back in my chair, fist pumping in the air. Not even caring if I look like a dork. These are magical.

I pick my phone back up and send her a text.

Wes: Did you make these cookies?

She reads the message, and the three little dots appear. Then they disappear. A minute goes by, then two.

Wes: Don’t play with my emotions, Layne. Did you make the cookies?

As the screen changes, yet another picture comes into view, revealing Layne in the same outfit. However, this time she’s sitting on the counter right next to a delectable plate of cookies — my cookies . Another picture comes through, and this one she’s eating a cookie, with milk running down her chin.

Layne: Good, aren’t they?

Layne: I don’t know if there will be any left, so enjoy what you have.

Wes: I swear to whatever deity it is you believe in, if I don’t have some of those cookies waiting for me when I get home, I’m going to spank that ass so hard you won’t be able to sit comfortably for a week.

Layne: …

A picture of an empty plate and her bent over showing me her ass lights up my screen.

This woman is going to be the death of me. I have such a raging hard on right now, and even though I want to get up, get in my car and drive home to spank the shit out of her. I can’t because I’m sporting some serious wood right now. Talk about awkward walking through the halls of the building.

I pack up all the containers and sit and wait impatiently for my dick to calm down so I can leave. After a few minutes, it’s calmed down enough to where I can walk out. Bag in hand, I make my way to the front of the building. I’m almost there. I can see the doors leading to my freedom.

“Wes, you leaving early?”

FUCK.

“Davis, yeah, I finished up those reports and uploaded them into the system.” I say, eyeing the doors. I just want to fucking leave.

“Well, alright. Have a good night and weekend, Wes.” He turns, looking every bit of disappointed and pathetic as he sounds.

I haul ass out the door and get to the car faster than ever. It’s amazing what some sexual motivation will do to a man. I pull out of my spot and peel out of the parking lot, heading home. What a surprise it will be for Ma Petite Mort , having her husband home so early from work. I don’t bother texting her to let her know. I enjoy having the element of surprise on my side.

Pulling onto the property, I know she can hear the car pull up. I grab the bag from the passenger seat and exit the car. Inside, I climb the stairs to the loft, making as much noise as I can.

“Fuck. Shit…fuck,” I hear her muttering under her breath. The sound of her scrambling around in the kitchen brings a smile to my face.

Layne’s standing next to the counter, still half naked, and all I do is smirk .

“You know you’re in trouble, don’t you, baby?” I croon, making my way over to the kitchen. “I hope you had your fun bratting because, baby…” I grab her hand and pull her into my arms, a fistful of her hair in hand tipping her head back. “Your ass is gonna be so red when I’m done with you. Then I’m gonna fuck you until you’re begging me for rest.”

I scoop Layne up in my arms, walking over to the couch. “You even wore underwear that makes this easy.” I say, dropping into the seat, positioning Layne over my lap. “Look at you thinking ahead, gold star for effort baby.” She arches her back, sticking her ass up in the air, as if she wants this. I glide my hand over her pert, round ass, loving the feel of her satiny skin. “Ten, and I want to hear you count them Layne.”

“Wes,” she begins, “I was joking around. There are more cookies.”

I smirk, chuckling at her backtracking. “Always bratting, but never wanting the punishment that comes along with it. Tsk, Tsk, baby.”

My hand comes down on her ass cheek, turning it the most beautiful shade of pink. I wait to hear her count.

“Ow,” she whines.

“What was that? Look at me, Layne.” I growl, pulling her head to the side by her hair.

Her eyes meet mine, “I said count.”

“One,” she whimpers.

My hand comes down, the satisfying crack of flesh making my cock thicken in my slacks.

“Two,” Layne says through a low moan.

My bratty girl loves this. We might have to implement more punishment in our daily routine. I’m all for some maintenance spankings.

Again and again, my palm reddens her ass cheek. Layne counts just like I told her to.

“Nine, oh Wes…” She moans. Her thong is a soaking mess, glistening on her thighs .

I slip the fabric to the side and my finger glides inside her with ease. A few strokes have her on the brink of coming, so I pull it out to suck her gathered arousal off. “Fuck, you’re delicious, baby.” I groan, savoring the taste of her on my tongue.

“Fuck it.” I move her over, keeping her up on her knees. I undo my belt and drop my pants. Pushing her thong to the side again, I enter her, groaning at the feel of her tight, wet pussy surrounding me.

My hands grip her hips, and I fuck her. I take all the stress, the frustration and Layne’s teasing out on her pussy. “You need to learn to behave, baby. Or I’m going to have to punish you like this again. Are you going to be my good fucking girl , Layne?”

“Probably not,” she moans as my cock hits her cervix, causing her to jolt forward.

Brat. God, I hope she isn’t a good girl. I fucking love this.

My hand comes down on her ass check one last time as I come inside her. Layne’s pussy spasms, holding my cock in a vice grip so tight I can’t pull out.

Layne falls forward into the pillows. “Ten,” she whispers.

I lean down and kiss her exposed back. “That’s my girl.”