Page 23 of Punished

“No. That’s not what happened. You walked in at a bad time. I need to explain everything.” Thalia does not do well with civilized conversation. She has always been quick to anger and quick to assume.

“Adrian is trying to get his life back on track. Don’t fuck that up for him with whatever secrets you’re keeping.”

The words shoot straight to my heart as I watch her walk past me and to the elevator.Don’t fuck that up for him. All the toxic thoughts start to take over in my head. Those feelings that I’m not good enough. Not good enough for my mother, not good enough for Bryan, for Adrian, and now, I am not good enough for Thalia. A five-year friendship that she would throw away to defend her long-lost brother. I am torn between being happy someone would stick up for him, and sad that she would see me as a threat to his happiness.

I work through the rest of my shift in silence. I’m grateful there’s not a lot of people checking in tonight. I want to go home and crawl into my bed and forget this entire day existed. My anxiety is already working on convincing me, once again, to quit this job and change my identity.

Seeing Bryan again has me shaken up, too. He doesn’tscare me physically, but he always has something up his sleeve.

Sophomore Year Saint Ritas

Bryan picks me up from my house, and we drive to an abandoned alley by the train tracks.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“I need you to pay off a debt for me.” I’m not sure what he means until another car arrives and an older man gets out.

“Do you love me?” I nod my head and he gets out of the car. I watch as he approaches the stranger, then motions back to me. The man is much older than us and smiles at me as Bryan returns.

The memory is a traumatic experience that I had shoved so far down I never thought it would resurface. That was the first of many times Bryan would offer blowjob services to old horny men in exchange for extra cash to pay off his debt. The first time broke me, but over time, I became numb to it. Addicted to the toxic cycle when he would praise me afterward and buy me gifts. He knew exactly how to control and manipulate me.

It was crazy how a memory like that could unravel years of healing. I had been sure the emotional wounds he leftin my soul were gone, but I could still see the scars. I want to cry, but I can’t. Even as the tears build up and my throat aches, I hold it in.You look ugly when you cry.

My mother’s voice comes back to me. I was never allowed to cry as a child. My mother would say it was distasteful and made me look ugly. Even after my father died, I had waited until after his funeral to lock myself in my room. I look at the clock and realize my shift was over twenty minutes ago. I had been so wrapped up in this sadness pulling me down. I planned on getting myself a drink before I call an Uber home. Something to take the edge off while I wait. I make my way to the bar, but then, as if I want another form of escape, I turn to the elevator instead, and make my way up to the thirteenth floor.

I knock lightly, hoping he doesn’t hear or isn’t home. This is a very bad idea. All bravery has vanished, and a bit of anxiety has creeped in since I knocked on his door. I debate what I’m going to say, but he opens the door. He is shirtless, which catches me off guard. It’s illegal for a man to look this good. But then I notice the icepack he holds to his cheek and the fresh blood on his lip.

“Oh my god, Adrian! What happened?” I move in to take the icepack from him and access the bruise before my eyes move to the open wound around his lip. I take off my jacket and reach for my backpack, where I carry some of my medical supplies.

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guy,” he says with a smirk. Arrogant asshole. I pull him into the bathroom and push him to sit on the toilet whileI search through his cabinets for some cotton balls and peroxide. I had placed some in here when I was helping Soledad. I move quickly when I find them to soak the cotton in the peroxide. I touch it lightly to the wound around his lip. He grabs my wrist and yanks me on to him so that my legs are straddling him as he looks up at me.

“Thank you,” he says, and our eyes stay locked on each other for a moment as he pulls my wrist to his lips and gently kisses the sensitive spot above my bracelet. The one he noticed me wearing the night he took Thalia home. The kiss is small, but it sparks that familiar flame inside me. The part of me that burns for him.

“What did you come here for?” he asks, his fingers gently playing with a loose strand of my hair. Suddenly the room feels hot. I don’t want to talk about Bryan or Thalia. I don’t want to ugly cry or confess whatever emotions I am feeling. I just want to stay here like this, in this moment with him.

His arms wrap around me, securing me to him, where I feel protected. I bend down and kiss him. Softly, I let my tongue search for his. He kisses me back. It’s gentler than he’s ever kissed me before. Slowly, we take each other in. The kiss is a heavenly offering to the universe that led us back to each other. Our tongues collide into each other as we pay homage to the stars that aligned to give this one lasttry.

He stands and lifts me, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He walks with me to the living room and drops me on the couch. We both tear at our clothes. Neither of us able to work them off quickly enough to appease the hunger. Our eyes never leaving the others.

“I need you inside me, Adrian.” I unclasp my bra and let it drop to the floor. He growls as he removes his boxers as he stalks toward me. His dick is so hard, and a little bead of precum is leaking out. I moisten my lips. I want to taste him. I want to take him in and savor every taste. He can see the desire in my eyes and inches closer. I pull him into me. Wrapping my lips around his crown.

“Fuck,” he growls and pushes in deeper as he grabs my hair. I slowly lick him and find a rhythm he likes. I look up and remove my lips and spit on his head. He hisses and pushes into me deeper as he places a foot on the couch. Tears pool in my eyes when he reaches the back of my throat. I hollow my cheeks and breath through my nose. He thrusts in harder and pain ripples through me the tighter he pulls my hair. I try not to gag as I keep my hands around his base, moving in synchronicity. I want him to cum in my mouth, to cum on my face and all over my breasts. Just when I anticipate his cum, he pulls out. I frown and he lets out a small laugh.

“Is my little slut sad I didn’t cum down her throat?”

He sits on the couch and pulls me onto his lap. I slide down onto him as he stretches me. He grabs my waist and moves me upward. I follow his lead as he guides my waist up and down. I slide on and off his cock. He moans in approval, so I begin to circle my hips, trying to push him into me deeper. Something about the position, the control, I have never felt so aroused. He pulls his mouth to one of my breasts, and I arch my back as he thrusts from underneath. It’s a sensory overload, his mouth sucking my tender nipples as he fucks me. I close my eyes as I feel that familiar bliss make its way up to my core. He grabs my hair, and my eyes shoot open.

“Eyes on me, diosa.” I look into his as my drawn out moans become screams, and he grips my hips tighter. With one last thrust, our orgasms meet, and I feel his cum shooting up through me as he fills me with every last drop. We cling to each other as we ride out the high together. I collapse into him, my head resting on his shoulder as his arms wrap around my back. We stay there silent for a few moments when I hear my stomach growl.

“Did your stomach just growl?” Heat rushes to my cheeks. I can’t remember the last time I ate.

He lifts me off him as he reaches for his sweatpants. I find my bra and panties and dress myself before he takesmy hand and moves me into the kitchen. I sit at the table and watch as he removes a pot and some other ingredients from the pantry. The kitchen is cold, and my nipples are hard as goosebumps run down my arms. “Go in my room, and in the top drawer, I have some white t-shirts.”

I walk toward his room, and I am surprised to see how organized he keeps his clothes. I didn’t pay attention too much the last time I was in his room, but who can blame me when he was fucking my soul out of my body? My fingers skim over the top of his dresser. I look in the mirror to see the marks he’s left on my chest and neck. My hair is a mess, but I feel good.

Gone are the memories that haunt me. Sex with Adrian is like drinking from the eternal well of life. I feel rejuvenated, alive, and back in control of myself. I grab a white t-shirt and slip it on. When I return to the kitchen, I can already smell the food he’s cooking. My stomach growls again, which earns another laugh from Adrian.

He brings a plate of grilled cheese sandwiches to the table.