A lot of things.
Waves of emotion crash down on me, strangling my chest, my throat. What we had was perfect. Beautiful. And she ruined it all. She fucking ruined it all.
It’s all I can do not to jump out of the car, throw her to the ground, sink my cock in her, remind her who owns her.
Because that fucking girl has clearly forgotten it.
And then, wrap her up in my arms, breathe in the sweet scent of her curly black hair, feel her lithe form tremble in my strong arms…
No. Never again. Nothing but pain for her from now on.
It’s all I can do to hold on to my anger. Sometimes, it’s all-consuming. Other times, a different kind of emotion springs up, and I have to crush it back down. I like to think of myself as a righteous man. I don’t let emotion get in the way. I dish out what is deserved.
And this girl deserves fucking hell.
It takes me a moment to calm down, for the anger and the pain and the new, overwhelming sense of lost that chokes me to ebb.
Yes, the loss. Because seeing her here, alive, living a life she’s created without me… it feels like I’ve lost her all over again.
Her heart may not belong to me anymore, but I sure as fuck will own the rest of her.
Taking in gulps of oxygen, I steady my hands and my thoughts, and look at her again.
Now that the thick veil of fury has dissolved somewhat, I manage to study her.
Her hair is pulled back behind her ears, but she’s made no attempt to subdue the kinks and curls. They look wilder than ever, especially on her stick-thin body.
I frown as I take in her appearance. She’s far too thin, and her eyes are sunken in, surrounded by deep purple shadows. She’s lost a lot of weight, and she hasn’t been sleeping much. Another little pang of worry bubbles up in my lower stomach, but I push it down again, willing anything that isn’t anger to disappear from my body forever. She may be suffering from the choices she’s made, but that won’t save her from suffering at my hands. There will be no forgiveness for her, not in this lifetime.
She walks slowly toward the gas station, her violet eyes clearlyfar away. I wonder what she’s dreaming of. Again, I have to restrain myself so I don’t jump out of the car right then and there, grab her and have my way with her.
My very forceful way. The more she struggles, the better it will be. I can just imagine her pleading on her knees, begging me to leave her alone.
I’ll ram my cock into her mouth, fuck it senseless, gag those pretty little words of hers.
Oh. I forgot. She’s mute now.
I’ll beat her speech out of her. I’ll take a belt to her until she talks, and then, I’ll show her just how pointless her fucking words are. Fear will light up those violet eyes of hers, but I own her fear.
I’m going to make her scared, all right. I’m going to make her fall to her knees in abject terror. She’ll look up and see the Devil, ready to smite her down.
But not yet. Everything in its time.
And the first thing to do is pay a little visit to Bill Henson.
__
I spend the morning in the car, watching the gas station. I can’t see her, of course, but knowing she’s in there, just out of reach, brings me more peace than I’ve known in months. I can almost smell her hair and touch her soft skin. I keep having to shake myself, remind myself of my anger. It’s getting harder and harder to access that overwhelming rage. But I made a promise, and the Devil always keeps his promises. She won’t get away with this.
At last, I see her leave and walk toward the diner. It must be her lunch break, but she can’t be eating a lot, given her weightloss. I’ll have to do something about that. My hands crisp around the wheel, anxiety and anger battling themselves out. Anxiety as I once again see her tiny frame, so skinny I wonder how she can possibly hold herself up. Anger at her, for not fucking eating. At myself, for caring.
How can I possibly punish her when doing so might snap her in two?
How can Inot?
Pushing the uncomfortable thought from my mind, I get out of the car.
Time to meet Bill Henson.
