Page 32 of Choke

“I let you play your game, Mona. I'll let you have your fun. But it’s time for me to put you in your place. When I tell you tosit on my face, you’re going to be a good little slut, and give me what I want. Now shut the fuck up and ride me until you come all over my face.”

“Oh, God,” Mona moans.

“No, Mona. I’m a servant because you’re God. You’re my fuckin’ lord and savior,” Callum mumbles into her pussy. “Grind this sweet cunt on my face. Allow me to feel worthy of your love.”

Callum growls as he tugs Mona down, forcing her to sit directly on his face.

Seeing the way Mona comes undone for us has me on the edge. Watching the people I love in the throes of passion is the most intoxicating drug I could take. It’s potent and addictive, and I’m a slave to it. These two control me, body, mind, and soul. They are my reason for waking up in the morning and my peace when I close my eyes. I want more of it. I want to be consumed by it, wrapped in rapture, and taken to paradise to hold onto this feeling for all of eternity.

My hand moves to Callum’s dick, and I pump until all three of us explode in unison in a release that has me understanding the meaning of life.

But as the high wears off, the fear sets in.

What if she doesn’t stay?

24

ATLAS

The quiet hours before dawn or the stillness after midnight are the times I cherish most. The world is asleep, and I’m alone with nature and my thoughts.

The sight of Callum and Mona’s naked bodies entwined in an embrace soothes my mind and heart.

Oddly, this is the only moment in my twenty-nine years of life that I’ve ever felt true peace and utter calm. Right now, my mind perceives life to be perfect.

I believed Mona wouldn’t want us. I thought she’d run screaming the moment she saw us again. But last night proved something entirely different. Last night, Mona saw us—the monsters, the demons from her past—and instead of rejecting us, she opened her arms. Maybe hope isn’t a foolish man’s game. Perhaps hope is eternal, even for sinners like me.

Leaving them was a slow, torturous pain, but I had to take out the trash. Trash in which Callum discards the problems that pop up. But he was sleeping so soundly that I didn’t want to wake him. The quiet serenity on his face was a contrast to the turmoil that surrounded him his entire life. I wanted him to linger in the peace for as long as possible.

I dress and head to the garage—a closed-off space used as a butchery. The man is hanging like a cow draining of blood.

I turn on the hose and direct it at his face. “Wakey, wakey, eggs and bakey.”

“What the fuck?” he gargles.

His distress over hanging upside down while being blasted with water is rather humorous. Funny how differently people react when the Grim Reaper comes calling. Some scream, cry, and beg for their lives. Some, like this man, hold on to the delusion that they’ll survive.

I laugh as he shakes water from his hair. “Thought it was time to have a little fun.”

“Hey, man. I’m not looking for trouble.”

I drop the hose and sift through his wallet. William Watson. “How long have you been robbing innocent women, Billy?”

“I-I I wouldn’t h-have hurt her,” he stutters.

“Ah, but you did, Billy.” I pick up the knife he used to slash Mona’s side and wave it in his face. “I believe you used this very blade.”

“I-I’m sorry. Let me go, and I’ll never do it again. I p-promise.”

I weigh Billy’s plea. A part of me thinks everyone deserves a second chance, but this man dared to hurt the woman I love. That’s unforgivable. I lift my shirt to display the cracked heart tattoo with two names written in cursive on my abdomen. “You messed with two people who mean more to me than my life.”

Billie screams as I plunge the knife into his side, the same area where he slashed Mona. “Gaaaahhhh, fuck, that hurts!”

“Oh, Billy, you’re lucky I’ve got better places to be, or I’d make this far more painful.”

I stab him repeatedly. Blood gushes from arteries, spraying my face and the floor.

“P-please!” He begs for endless minutes until he finally stops thrashing.

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