Signal Fire Burns (And Burns)
It was easy to lie to the unsuspecting widow and her crying infant. Tony never thought it would be any different, lies trickles from his tongue like rain from the clouds, it was a talent far too useful to ever question. He zipped up his jacket against the strong wind before he shut the front door, leaving his new family safely in the warm cosy house. Compartmentalising had become something else he was also very good at.
His car is parked down by the factory and Kevin, working in the garage, glares at him as he reverses away.
His mind is mostly carefully blank but the pull of excitement and adrenaline still makes his muscles twitch. He refuses to feel guilty about this. It is a short drive into a rather average part of town but then secrets were never hidden behind a grimy film noir film set.
The hotel reception is half full of businessmen types on phones or checking in and out. Tony headed to the lifts confident at his invisibility amongst the other men dressed almost identically. She always checked into the same room for their business arrangement so he knew where he was going.
Something heavy and lustful settles deep within, he needs this more than he can remember. It's always the third identical door on the fourth identical floor; he remembers those facts as if they are pieces of an important puzzle. Anticipation takes his breath away as he pushes the door open, she always leaves it unlocked.
It takes his eyes a second to adjust to the overly bright room after the relative dimness of the hall. He is proud that she knows him so well; he is not in the mood for atmospheric lighting, he wants to see into every dark corner.
She is in full view sprawled across the bed looking delectable. The way the dark velvet of her hair contrasted against the pale flawlessness of her skin makes his mouth go dry. The emerald green lacy underwear accentuated the firm swell of her breasts and the gently curve of her hips. It was the sight of her long stocking covered legs ending in the highest, shiniest high heels he had ever seen and the cool steel handcuffs around her delicate wrists that made his cock jump.
"Hi baby. I've been waiting for you." A wicked smile curls at her full lips. A devilish glint warms her green eyes. She reaches futilely towards him but the handcuffs hold her tight against the bed post.
Tony carries on observing her intently. Watches the way she dares him to action with only a look that quickly turns into a pout when he pretends to ignore her and removes his jacket.
"I've been such a bad girl running away from you. Don't you want to punish me?" She purrs at him, pushing herself up on her elbows as far as the restraints would allow making sure his attention was drawn to her perfect breasts.
He can not stop himself from touching her much longer. He's skin burns with desire. This is all he has ever wanted; she is all he has ever needed. Even after all the problems it was never more complicated than he just wanted her to come home.
Finally he sits by her side so close he could feel the warmth from her skin and her breath on his face. He lets his eyes lazily caress every inch of her before he places his large hand against her sculpted cheek.
"Not today sweetheart." Today he wants to cherish her and pretend that she can be his world again. He is feeling overwhelmed and tender and how could he possibly mar her beauty?
Any thoughts of Maria have fallen away completely. Of course she had no idea he was doing this. She would never understand and that was one of her virtues, her naivety and the way she believed in him. As far as Maria was concerned they had the perfect little family and sometimes he wishes that it could be true. He sits up all night holding baby Liam tightly to his chest while the child sleeps. But he needs this, this beautiful nymph like creature to take the edge of his obsession.
For a while he tried to block out all thoughts of her reeling from hurt and betrayal. But she had always managed to slip past his defences and he was sure he would die if he gave her up altogether. If he was just allowed those few hours then he would be able to be the best father possible for Maria's tiny child.
He leans over her and places a kiss along her collar bone just above her heart.
"I forgive you." He whispers the words into her ear, the weight of them more heavy and loaded than she could possibly realise. He could forgive her because he loved her so much and she had come home to him.
Their lips met eagerly for a slow and passionate kiss. He switches positions so that he is lying on top of her holding enough of his own weight so that he did not squash her too much. It delighted him, the way he could make her pant and bend to his direction.
The weight of a breast is heavy under his palm. He slips a leg between her thighs and he murmurs her name hot and wet against naked skin.
"Carla."
She hisses a word that could be a plea and twists beneath him. He is driven almost crazy enough by her to believe that this really is the woman who he had killed for.
This woman had never told him her real name and he was glad to not have that distracting knowledge. She had found him when he was at his most desperate, drunk with grief and self-destruction and ready to hurl himself off an flyover.
To this day he had no idea what she was doing there or how she understood his pain but he tried not to think too much about it. It was not till her saw her face in the passing headlights that he saw the striking similarity, the waves of dark hair and intelligent eyes. He was knocked off balance at their similar height and build that the way this woman's cheeks were less defined, her chin a little too rounded so all the other tiny little things that were off did not trouble him.
She had taken him patiently by the hand and led him to some posh wine bar. They had sex in a cramped toilet cubical and his release gave him enough strength for another day.
They had sat and talked after. He remembered shifting against the stickiness in his trousers and she had chosen the wine because he had not thought to take his wallet on a suicide dive.
Turns out she was a prostitute and unabashed about her occupation. The first thought to filter through his brain was that maybe Carla drove all her men to whores, the emasculating cruel bitch she was. The mysterious woman was impeccably dressed if possibly a little overstated for his taste but it was clear that she did not spend much time standing on street corners.
When she had reached across the table to hand him her card he had caught a glance of a thick silver ghost of a scar along the inside of her wrist. While he felt a strange sort of solidarity with someone who had once been as fraught as him he could not bare to hear an explanation. He was relieved when the fire burning in her eyes told him that there was no way in hell she would ever tell him.
The arrangement had been finalised without much discussion. He transferred a large amount of money into her account and in return she would let him do whatever he wanted with her body.
Two days later he has her bent over a coffee table as he takes her from behind. He was already a murder he might as well bathe in a little more sin.
Once after Maria had named her son he was sure that guilt would hollow out his insides and his whore had been unavailable for the weekend. She never said where she went and she never talked about other clients. Instead he had used a number he found in the back of a newspaper hating his neediness sure that he could hear his wife cackling at him in his ear.
When he requested a raven haired woman the sleaze ball on the other end had laughed about his goth fetish. He should have hang up then but it was like he could not breath and all he wanted was Carla to tell him it would all be okay again.
The girl they sent over had honey blond hair under her wig. He was very sure he was about to become a murderer all over again if she had not fled wrapped in nothing but a satin dressing gown and heels.
But he needed this.
It takes the edge of the nightmares. Sometimes he kills Liam with his bare hands and watches the hope drain from Carla's eyes. Other times he listens to Carla's screams as he buries her alive along with the corpse of her lover.
He just wants her to come home to him.