Page 14 of Quiet Rage
Like the way I need her.
Getting out of bed, I understand why the time with her was so special. It was the first time I had any kind of contact with a girl not provided to me by Dad. I mean, he did send her to me in a roundabout way, but normally he sends them straight to me with only one purpose.
As fucked up as it was back in the library, and as fucked up as it makes me to talk about choice when I didn’t give her one, it was the first time I made a decision about who was going to touch me. She wasn’t just some anonymous way to get off. This is a girl whose name I know. A girl whose life I’ve taken a good, long look at.
I guess it makes sense, fixating the way I am.
Just like it makes sense that I can’t help trying to figure out ways to mix pleasure with what I know Dad wants me to do. I have to break her. That’s my entire job, that is my purpose right now. Sure, the line has blurred, and I might have lost sight once or twice of what this is really about, but the ultimate goal of makingher dad suffer for breaking the agreement with my dad is still there. I can’t afford to forget it.
That doesn’t mean I can’t play by my own rules. Indulge my dark needs. Dad never said how I had to break her down, right? There are all sorts of ways, and he left it up to me to figure it out.
Making her jerk me off didn’t crush her, but it was the first step. The first of many. Do I tie her up? Fuck her face until she cries, and then paint it with jizz? Take pictures, send them around to everyone at school?
That idea is one of the front runners, one I keep coming back to whenever my thoughts turn to her. And they do that a lot. To the point where I can barely think about anything else. I zoned out at a red light yesterday, imagining her sucking my cock then and there. Imagining how I would keep her head pressed close to my base with one hand and steer with the other. It took two cars honking at me to pull me out of the fantasy. I was rock hard, dripping with anticipation.
And more pissed off than ever because it was all in my head. That’s not enough.
I need to taste her tears. To hear her choked sobs as I strip her bare of choice and dignity. My fists curl whenever I imagine forcing her to satisfy my every whim, because imagining isn’t enough.
It seems like I’m not the only one with her on the brain, either. I’m showered, dressed, rounding the top of the stairs when the door at the end of the hall opens.
The air around me changes. It gets warmer, thicker somehow. There’s a change that comes over me, too. Without thinking about it, my spine straightens and my shoulders roll back. I liftmy chin, waiting for whatever mood he’s in today. I like to get out of here before he’s up, trying to avoid running into him like this. Especially first thing in the morning.
He’s in his pajamas with the top buttoned halfway, a little rumpled. I barely catch a glimpse of a woman’s bare legs on the bed before he closes the door behind him on his way to the bathroom. “How is that project coming along?” he asks on his way past me. He reeks of the booze working its way out through his pores.
“Very well,” I reply, still gripped with the need to make fantasy a reality. “I’ve got her hanging on by a thread. She’s coming to her breaking point.” By now, six of Tiana’s memes have posted online, and all of them have been shared hundreds of times. The entire town, maybe even the whole state, knows my little dragonfly as a hopeless slut. Cock crazed, insatiable.
And from what I’ve seen while I follow her around campus, nobody is shy about making sure she knows.
His smile is slow, menacing. It has the power to make me wish, just for a heartbeat or two, that I didn’t have to do this. That he wasn’t a part of it. He has a way of taking something ugly and making it hideous. “Good work. I want her to drop out by the end of the month.”
That announcement shouldn’t make the skin on the back of my neck prickle like it does. Making her drop out of school—there goes my excuse for seeing her all the time. “Why? Why make her drop out?”
I should’ve known better. His head snaps back once he comes to a stop and turns part way to look at me. “Since when do you ask why? That’s not your job. Your job is to do what I tell you.”
As always. “I was just wondering,” I mutter with a shrug. “You’re trying to teach her dad a lesson. What does getting her to drop out of school do to him? I just want to understand your thought process.”
He’s too easy to predict. The darkness in his eyes brightens like I knew it would. He loves feeling like he’s teaching me something. Like a father passing wisdom down to his son. “That pathetic prick. You would think Wicked Falls is Ivy League, the way he brags about her going there. He’s so damn proud of her. Like it means he’s special.”
Now I get it. I don’t have to like it. “Fair enough. Gotta go.” I’m halfway down the stairs before he grunts something that could be a goodbye. Not that I want to hear it.
The end of the month. I have until the end of the month to shatter her.
I have until the end of the month to soak in as much of her as I can. Not like she would leave town when I’m finished with her, although she might wish she could. I’ll be able to see her again if I want to. She can’t hide from me. It’s like part of me will be imprinted on her somehow. She will never get rid of me.
It’s just a hell of a lot more convenient to have an excuse to see her, is all.
How far do I have to take it to make her drop out? Everyone in school is already having a blast, treating her like comic relief or some shit. They might even be disappointed if she stops showing up. Who are they supposed to make fun of if she quits?
Obviously, if we’re going for more than misery—if we want to make it bad enough that she has no choice but to drop out forgood and never show her face on campus again—we have to kick things up a level. And by we, I mean Tiana and her girls.
It’s risky, getting her involved again. Not that she’s anything I can’t handle, but already I’ve been catching her giving me these meaningful looks whenever we cross paths on campus. Like we have a secret. We do, but it’s not something I want to broadcast around. It doesn’t make us friends. She doesn’t seem to get that. I don’t need her thinking there will ever be anything more here.
As far as I know, she’s single and always has been. I mean, who would want to get tangled up with her? She’s not exactly stable. Not that I have a lot of stability in my life, but one fight and I could wake up with my dick lying next to me on the bed. I honestly wouldn’t put it past her.
For now, she’s useful, which is why I seek her out once I get to campus. I only have a few minutes to spare, but it won’t take long. If anything, it’s better to meet up with her this way. I have an excuse to cut things short.
She’s hanging out in her and her friends’ usual spot under a graceful beech tree, judging everybody who walks past. When she sees me, she gets up from the ground. I wish she wouldn’t. “How’s it going?” she asks, while her friends giggle. I’m pretty sure that’s all they’re capable of doing.
