Page 44 of Unmasking Mayhem
But my mind can’t silence the worry or the echo of the past. I zone in on the thought that shadows are only as powerful as we allow them to be. I put all the stuff back and adjust my position, lowering myself onto her, waiting for her to wake up.
But she doesn't.
So taking a chance, I pull out my dick and slide into her so fucking slowly I almost bust my load from the fucking torture. Once I'm buried between her tight, wet walls, I wrap my lips around her nipple and swirl my tongue slowly, thrusting long, deep, and torturous. I keep my eyes on her as I suck on her already hardened nipple and slide my cock in and out of her pussy, waiting for her eyes to open in surprise.
But they don't.
I keep fucking her, using deeper and more dominant strokes, forcing her legs open wider. The second she moves, I choke her and capture her lips, catching her gasps in my mouth. Once she realizes it's me, she seems to relax her body, but she's still confused as to what's happening, even though her pussy is clenching around my cock in a heartbeat rhythm, squeezing the fuck out of me.
"I was having fun fucking you while you were sleeping," I groan in her ear, leaving the taste of herself on her tongue for her to enjoy as much as I do.
"That's... creepy," she whispers coarsely. "But it's kinda hot too." She smiles, running her fingers through my hair, gently lifting her hips to meet my thrusts, her legs sneakily wrapping around me.
"When it comes to you, Whitney, I'll fuck you whenever, wherever, and however. As long as I have you, I don't care about the circumstances."
I kiss her forehead, suddenly feeling confused as I let go inside of her without warning, filling her pussy with every drop of my cum, secretly wishing I'd get her pregnant. Maybe it might turnthings around for us. Or maybe it won't. Maybe I just love the risk of getting her pregnant, playing Russian roulette with my cum.
"Fuck, Whit," I grunt as my body shakes, my legs locking as my heavy balls empty, leaving me feeling a lot less stressed than when I got here.
She lets me fill her, pulling me into her more instead of pushing me away. Her legs lock tighter and her back arches off the bed, her nails digging deeply into my back. I can tell she's coming, so I fuck her harder, hearing her moans float around me like my favorite melody.
I want this moment to last forever, so I close my eyes and burn it into my brain. How warm and vulnerable she is, how my heart feels so full, and how the voices aren't a thing that bothers me anymore. But I know they'll come back, and when they do, I don't know if I'll have the strength to fight them off. A part of me feels like the next time they come for me, it's going to be the last, because they're ready for me to do what they've been telling me, and I'm finally ready to do it.
We're both stuck on the smoke that swirls from her lips and up into the dark sky, lying on the roof of her apartment. Holding her hand, there's so much I want to say to her, but so much I'm afraid to hear the answers to.
Whitney was never a quiet girl when she was around us, only silent around the foster families, especially the ones who abusedher. The memory sparks a thought, and my mind begins to run wild with darker thoughts than I'd like to admit. I remember when she was raped, and the odd way she acted until she told me and Raze; it's how she's acting now.
"So why aren't you at work?" She asks, placing a Xanax on her tongue and looking down at it as it dissolves.
"King put a bunch of us on vacation after that last job. You know, laying low and shit." I smile, leaning over to brush the hair out of her face... and she fucking flinches. She has never flinched any of the times that I've touched her, and it gets the voices going again even louder.
"What happened, Whitney? I flat out ask her, knowing not to beat around the bush.
"I don’t want to talk about it, Hawk," she snaps, glaring at me. "Did Carter come to you or something?"
I scrunch my nose in confusion, not sure what she means. "Uh, no, but I've seen things, and I notice things, Whitney, and I can tell someone hurt you—recently—and I want to fucking know who."
She gets quiet for a minute, taking deep drags off her cigarette to try and stall for as long as she can. Her hands shake, and then her entire body shakes, so I sit up and pull her onto my lap to hold her tightly, the darkness protecting us from the evil in the shadows.
Rocking back and forth on my lap—a tell that her mental state is unraveling—she finishes her cigarette and lights another, her eyes wet and filling with tears she refuses to let spill. I just hold her firmly, waiting for her to be ready to open up and let me in. I can feel it coming; it just takes time.
"Something bad is going to happen, Hawk," she whispers so softly I can hardly hear her, but I still do.
"What's that?" Intrigued, I ask, keeping my voice a soft whisper so I don't trigger something inside her that'll make her snap.
"King, D, they're planning something—something for me because I lied." She looks at me, and the tears finally fall, making my fucking heart break for her.
"Shh, it's going to be alright. Just tell me what happened."
She catches her breath but poisons it with more nicotine, now staring up into the dark, starry sky. "The other night, King... drugged me and decided to record the entire encounter," she says, gagging on her words. "When I woke up, he told me he knew that 13 and Red were undercover cops and that he knew that I had kept the secret from him. He threatened to leak the video if I don't do what he wants, and what he wants..." She pauses, almost as if the rest is harder to talk about than the assault.
"Whitney, tell me, baby. I promise I'm going to fix whatever it is," I assure her, making a blind promise.
"He wants me to be the one to kill them, Hawk, or he'll leak the video of him using and degrading my body to the fucking world." She breaks down, crying hysterically for the first time since we were kids.
I immediately pull her closer, tightening my grip and burying my nose in her hair, letting her cry into my shoulder. I can't seem to come up with anything that will make her feel better. But to be fair, all I can think about is killing King because he drugged my fucking girl. I need to talk to Raze, but I don't want to leave Whitney. I can feel the tension in her body and hear the shaky breaths escaping her lips. I hold her tighter, trying to shield her from the memories clawing at her mind.
"Listen to me, Whitney," I say softly, my voice steady against the chaos in my own heart. "We’ll figure something out. I promise you that."
