If you are reading this, I assume you know Mac so you know it's different from what you are used to from me. No magic or mysticism or true love in this one! It's Rated Very M for extreme language, violence, torture, and sexual content.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings , etc., are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way affiliated with the owners, creators or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
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It's warmer in hell so down we go...
-Brody Dalle
She checked herself out early. Another rehab Serena didn't think she needed, but her record label did. They were a small, indie punk label, but she had signed a contract and made money for them in the underground music scene. If she was fucking up too badly they had the right to make her check in. This time it was some place out in the middle of God knows where Utah. They figured the farther away from a major city she was, the better chance of her staying and not getting in even more trouble. She tried this time, really did. She stayed twenty days out of the thirty they wanted her to do. Part of her was sick of doing stupid things, messing up her life. Sick and tired of being sick and tired. Ha ha. But, suicidal ideation, self-harm, anxiety, depression, and unhealthy risk taking was her diagnosis. She'd actually listened in the group and individual therapy sessions this time. All those fancy terms telling her what she already knew: she loved her alcohol, her benzos, and bad boys. Her three weaknesses. Not a good combination. She'd go back to Seattle, cut back on the drinking and drugs, focus on her music. Low profile. No, men. No men. No men.
She tossed her duffel bag into the trunk of the cab that would take he to the car rental office but kept her black studded purse with her. She touched the leopard pillbox at the bottom, feeling secure. They were there if she needed them. The funny thing about rehab was that it was really easy to get drugs there. Almost easier inside than outside. She scored the Valium at the front door. But right now she was sober. She'd been sober for twenty days. Her manager was supposed to pick her up next week, but she wanted this time on her own, away from everybody. She'd be home before anyone knew she was missing.
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
She pushed her bangs off of her eyes as she scanned her iPod for driving music. She hadn't cut them for a month; she'd had no access to scissors in 'the joint' so they almost covered her dark brown eyes now. Her black hair had intense burgundy highlights and was stick straight falling past her shoulders. Her skin was pale, living in Seattle made it easy to avoid the sun. Right now, the heat of the desert made her tight black stretch jeans stick to her skin as she perspired. Her t-shirt was tied up in a halter exposing her flat but not muscular abdomen. She never exercised, just drank more than she ate. Not a health nut far from it. She thought her push up bra created a better curve into her hips. She kicked the front tire with her black engineer boot in a superstitious way then got in the driver's seat. She put on some Distillers and turned out of the parking lot of the low-budget rental place. 'Drain the Blood' came bursting of the speakers.
She didn't mind being alone for such a long drive. She liked it, was used that solitary feeling, even when she was with people; she was essentially alone because deep down inside people scared her. That's why she loved to drink. It was weird because her fear of people didn't stop her from being somewhat of an exhibitionist. She loved the stage- she was born to be a rock singer. It was the anonymous attention she craved. One on one freaked her out and sent her reeling -running away or running to drinking and drugs and really intense sex with no emotion attached. The only things that made her feel or maybe not feel...
I never met a pearl quite like you
who could shimmer and rot at the same time through
All my friends are murder...
She sang along with Brody's raspy howl.
She 'd driven a ways into the late afternoon when she noticed a grinding noise every time she accelerated and the car had hard time getting over forty miles an hour. Then it started handling poorly. She pulled over, grabbed her cell phone and called the rental place. They told her they couldn't get anyone there for some time; apparently she really was out in the middle of nowhere. If she got he car towed and fixed, the company would reimburse her. That's what you get for going to the cheap place. After spending so much on the drugs, she only had a little cash left for gas and the car. How the fuck would she pay for repairs? She'd find a way, she always did. She drove with the noise for a few more miles hoping to find a gas station or garage. No wonder this was called a desert it's deserted ha ha she said to herself. She started to worry when there was still nothing after another half mile. Finally a sign for Caineville. Has to be something there.
She noticed the restaurant bar first, of course. Looked touristy, but it was a bar god she could use a drink. Her stomach got all fluttery at the thought. It had been nearly a month. Then she saw the garage. Maybe her life was changing for the better. At least she had some fucking luck today. She pulled into the shop's lot and turned off the noisy grinding engine. When she stepped from the car and bent over, leaning in reaching for her purse, a low raspy voice from behind her said "It's your exhaust system."
Startled she stood up and slammed right back into the guy's chest. That's how close he'd been standing behind her.
"Hey." she said turning around. He didn't move and her breasts rubbed against the front of his dirty blue mechanic's coveralls as she moved to face him.
"Heard you coming a half mile away." He said, not moving back.
Finally, she slid out from between the car and his body. He smirked and smiled at the same time revealing some pretty bad teeth. She knew meth mouth when she saw it though it wasn't nearly as bad as some she'd seen. Still early? He picked at scabs on his neck. She knew all the signs well so it surprised her that he was actually kind of good-looking. She shook that thought from her mind. No men, Serena reminded herself. She focused on how obnoxious it was of him to pin her like that.
"Pretty friendly town, huh?" she said referring to his full body contact of the moment before. She wanted to hit him, belt him hard across the face, take her brass knuckles out of her pocket and threaten him, but she knew she needed to get the damn car fixed. He might be a creep but he was a mechanic and he seemed to know what was wrong with the car.
"So can you fix it?"
"Yup."
She noticed him staring hard at her navel flashing rhinestone and the tattoos on her ribs not even trying to pretend he wasn't. His eyes traveled down to her belt line then up to the knot in her t-shirt just under her breasts. They lingered on her body, not really looking at her face while he spoke.
"How soon will it be done?"
"Depends. I'm probably gonna have to order a part and seeing as we're closin' up, could take a day or two."
"Shit."
"There's a motel you can stay at."
"Have no choice, I guess."
He smirked again when she said that. She wanted to slap it off of his face. The thought excited her. She realized he was really attractive despite his teeth. She'd kissed worse mouths on cute guys. His voice had a dirty, sexy low tone she usually couldn't resist. Fuck he's my type.
"You can get a room from the guy at the bar. Check back here tomorrow." He said it as an order.
"Do I have to fill anything out paperwork or anything?"
He grunted and snorted, looking at her like she was stupid, indicating no. God she really wanted to hit him.
"Just need a name."
"Serena."
"How much is it going to cost?"
"Don't you wanna know my name?"
"Does it matter?" she didn't know why she said it.
"Mac. Damn right, it matters if you want your damn car fixed to get out of here." He said it gruffly almost angrily and leaned into her again. As his body practically touched hers, she felt that heated energy and a physical pull toward him. The twisting low in her gut confirmed it was that feeling, the one that always got her in trouble. She quickly moved away. Not this time. I'm in a good place, starting over.
"Okay, Mac. See you tomorrow."
She put the keys in his hand and turned away heading straight to the Luna Mesa for that drink.
As she started to cross the road, she saw them point and heard their snickers from a distance. She knew they were having a good time ragging on her. Fucking rich bitch princesses. Look at the BMW they were driving. Daddy's car no doubt.
"Fuck you looking at?" She shouted back. She could never just walk away. " You know how rude it is to point don't you girls?" She started to walk back in the direction of BMW at the gas pump. She stalked forward menacingly. "You wanna say something say it to my face!"
They stared open-mouthed not expecting her to confront them.
"No," One of the young blondes managed to get out. They started to ignore her.
"No, I heard something. Say it now, I wanna hear it. Hey, look at me."
"The bitch is crazy." Another of the girls said insultingly.
"Get away from our car you crazy bitch!"
"Thought you wanted to tell me something. What I look like a freak to you? That it?" They all looked away willing Serena to leave.
She wanted to pull their hair, key the car, kick the door and create a dent they'd have to explain to daddy. Instead, she took a deep breath and controlled herself. She clenched her fists channeling her anger. "Its a big world out there sweethearts many different types of people in it. You should really watch yourselves; you mess with the wrong person you might regret it. I'm a pussy cat compared to some out there."
They didn't say anything as she turned to leave.
Mac leaned back against the rental car observing the confrontation. Catfights excited him and that girl was piquing his interest. He knew her type. She thought she was real tough shit. Thought she could handle herself. Look at how she went at those sluts in the car. He hadn't had much fun lately; nobody new in town. She would be a real challenge. He knew it. Felt it would be different. But he was up for a challenge. He watched her cross the road, walking with attitude. He wanted to fuck that attitude right out of her and he knew he could do it. Leave her broken and begging him. She won't be so tough then.
It was almost dusk when she entered the bar. She felt at home immediately. All the years of touring gave her a comfort with small local bars and truck stops and tourist dumps like this.
She approached the counter already salivating for a shot of tequila. A few patrons sat in booths and few at the bar as the evening began. The guy behind the bar in the apron kind of looked like an old biker with his slicked back receding hair in a ponytail, white beard, tan rugged face.
"What can I get you?" she heard a thick Mexican accent.
"Shot of tequila and a room."
He raised his eyebrow then.
"My car its being fixed over at the garage and the guy said it might take a day or two."
He nodded and she saw something flash in his eye. Concern? Worry? He put her drink in front of her. She slammed it not even asking for salt and lime.
"One more thing, since I'm staying could I start like a tab with you for the room and drinks and stuff here? I like to pay for everything on one bill. I'm a musician and my label reimburses me for stuff like this." She lied, hoping he'd agree giving her time to figure out her money situation.
"Mac told you to come here you say? Mac said to get the room?"
She nodded."Til he fixes my car."
"If Mac sent you then sure. I can do that for you. I'm Walter by the way." He wondered if she'd even be alive to take care of a tab. He could wave off a small amount of money if it kept Mac entertained for a while. He was starting to worry about his son going off the rails with pent up frustration. He needed him to focus on work keeping his drug supply coming. Having an indiscretion as Walter called it, once in a while helped with that, so Walter let it go. As long, a the girl wouldn't be missed. This one didn't look like anyone important. Another straggler who wouldn't make it out of the canyons alive. It had been a while and Mac's attitude showed it.
That was easy.
"Thanks a lot. In that case I'll take another." Serena said holding her shot glass out to him.
"If you need anything ask me." He put a room key down next to her shot feeling better about her being here.
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
How am I going to pay for a hotel room. Shit. Or food or drinks or anything. She'd spent the last of her cash on gas and expected to be well on her way home by now. And she'd have to pay for whatever part Mac was ordering for the car.
As the night wore on she paced herself. She sipped on her beer trying to make it last, trying not to get wasted. She had to think. She assessed the patrons of the bar. Looking for easy marks. Drunk enough and careless enough to let her easily slip a wallet or two out from a purse or back pocket. It was easy in crowded bars. People were usually drunk and didn't question close contact.
She was so busy studying her marks she didn't notice Mac staring at her. He'd been watching her all night since he'd come in with his usual group of buddies. He'd been sitting at a table that had perfect view of the entire room so he could keep an eye on the girl. He kept waiting for her to notice him but she didn't, It was getting him frustrated. She was too concerned with her own problems to notice him literally eye fucking her. He wanted her to notice.
Serena stood and sidled up to the bar next to a guy whose wallet was visible rising out of his back pocket. He was clean-cut, short sandy hair, new dark jeans and a striped button-down shirt; he looked like a tourist passing through. She ordered another shot and simultaneously bumped the guy's hip and touched his shoulder with her left hand. Meanwhile, her right hand lightly grasped the wallet inside his back pocket and fluidly slipped it into the waistband of her jeans. She looked at the guy and said "Sorry man" with a smile and took her drink. He gave her a look and she waited for the longest minute of her life, as her adrenaline rushed. The experience was always scary as hell and riveting. When he shrugged and turned away, she scooted into the ladies room to see what she scored. Nice. She had taken a packed wallet full of cash and credit cards. She put the cash almost three hundred bucks into her purse and left the credit cards. She sauntered back out and bent down as if to adjust her boot, casually leaving the wallet underneath the bar near its owner's feet. She decided not to push her luck, so she grabbed her flannel downed the rest of her beer and headed outside.
Mac saw her rip off the guy at the bar. He smirked and poured himself another shot of whiskey from the bottle in front of him. Yeah she thought she was something, tough shit. He tossed back the Jack. Still it took guts. Or desperation. Or just stupidity. He liked that. Any attitude played okay with him. Maybe a bit of all three- perfect. He'd show her what he could do to her. Build her up, then tear her down to nothing but a broken, weakened, bloody, bruised, begging doll. He was getting excited thinking of his knife on her. Carving and cutting into that lily-white skin. He stood and shifted his hardening dick.
Once outside, Serena breathed in the fresh air. She was proud of herself for not getting completely wasted and for scoring that cash. She looked at the moon. It was closer here in the desert . Suddenly she felt a strong arm around her waist jerk her back and a hand covered her mouth. She was pulled to the rear of the building. She started to panic as she heard the low raspy voice and felt breath hot against her ear. "I seen what ya did." She knew it was him. She smelled the same gasoline, sweat, whisky and cigarettes from earlier at the garage. The mechanic.
"Got yourself in a mess of trouble."
Was he gonna call the cops?
"What you a cop or something?" she mumbled under his hand knowing he wasn't. "Or a rat?"
He grunted and removed his hand from her mouth then put it around her throat. "So you're a tough bitch huh?"
"I do what I have to do." She gasped out as his hand tightened.
"Anything?"
She shrugged and felt his arm tighten around her waist, pulling her back against what she knew was his major hard on. The way he ground into her ass trying to relieve the pressure started her to moisten and automatically she pushed back against him rocking her hips causing him to stiffen even more and groan into her ear. She couldn't believe how wet he was making her. Neither could he when he suddenly took his hand from her neck and worked open the button and zipper of her jeans, breathing "Shhhh" against her ear. She should want to stop him.
"Fuck off, don't..." she protested half-heartedly.
"Don't think you mean that" he chuckled. "So wet for me already huh? Tough girl not so tough now huh?" He'd show her what he could do to her body; get her hooked; make her want it... make her want him. The hypnosis of lust. Step one.
She whimpered.
He pressed his fingers hard against her pussy teasing her lips apart through the fabric of her panties. She felt him pressing on top of her clit, moving rhythmically, pushing inside the soaked panties and she knew he wanted to fuck her with his hand. By this time she wanted him to, too. She rotated her pelvis forward into to his touch. He knew she wanted him to continue. They always did, he smirked. He had a talent. Giving them pleasure first then taking what he wanted made the taking sweeter. They didn't know what hit them when he finally struck.
His other hand left her waist and she felt him pull something from his pocket. Mac slid the cold steel blade of his knife down against her hip slicing the fabric of her thong. He pulled the ruined garment from her body and shoved it into his pocket never once letting up his rhythmic circling of her clit.
Her body wanted this while her mind screamed at her to get out. She was done doing stupid things remember? She was trying to start over. Fuck it, he felt so good. She gave in completely to his ministrations and cooperated. She was so wet by this time that his fingers slid easily between her lips. As he scraped her clit with his fingertips, she jerked her hips to his rhythm. Then a finger forced its way into her hole, inside her pussy. Oh, god, this is real sex. A guy I don't know is finger fucking me in a parking lot. He penetrated her body pushing his finger into her cunt. She gasped and inhaled sharply when he added a second finger, in and out, harder and harder, so hard she was dizzy. She whimpered and closed her eyes feeling herself getting close. "Oh shit," she murmured almost whining at being felt and fingered and fucked out in the open, visible, for anyone to see. He cupped her breast with one hand while the other continued its sweet torture. Sliding his fingers slowly, teasing her, withdrawing then plunging them right back, taking her closer and closer to the edge. And as the sensations rocking her got too much, just as she was about to fall right off the cliff. He stopped. He felt her clenching and knew she was about to cum.
"What the fuck. don't fucking stop" she gasped "not now..."
"Well, well, well. What do we have here? Tough girl getting a little too impatient, are you?" He said forcing a finger back in.
That and his husky, deep controlling voice made her orgasm crash into her with such force that her entire body bucked and she swore as she came hard; she spasmed, her pussy sucked his fingers into her, wrapping them in her velvet heat and yet still aching. She panted and almost lost her footing as she rode out the aching pleasure. Mac couldn't believe how damn hard this girl came. She couldn't believe it either. Although it had been a well over a month since she'd had a guy. No illicit rehab romances this last time. He pulled his hand out and turned her finally to face him. He slowly licked her juices from his fingertips. "Damn you taste good tough girl. "
She was till panting when he stuck them in her mouth.
"Suck."
She complied, closing her lips around his index finger sucking it then ran her tongue over it pulling slowly backward. He let it slide from her mouth. He grunted approval. God he wanted her right now, but it wasn't time. He had plans for her. This one was different; she thought she was tough. "I do what I have to do' she'd said. We'll see. She was going to be fun to break. Hell, he wished she'd given him some fight, but he was going easy on her now. He could just imagine what it would be like when she did fight and that kept his dick raging.
Suddenly Serena knelt in front of him and put her slender fingers on his belt. As she started to unzip him, he realized what the bitch was up to. He backhanded her so hard across the face her body slammed to the ground. She lay on her side, confused, spitting out some bloody saliva. She looked up "Your turn, just paying you back, Jesus. I can feel how hard you are."
"You don't touch me 'less I say so. Fucking slut." He kicked her hip.
"Freak." She muttered. She felt a twinge of fear. What kind of guy would refuse a blow job?
She stood slowly zipping her jeans. She stepped out from behind the building just as the guy she'd robbed was leaving the bar.
"Hey, there you are! You're the bitch who robbed me!"
Fuck she was supposed to be back in her room out of site by now. She could deny it, she could run, but where to?
"Don't know what you're talking about."
"You're gonna give me the cash back and I'm calling the goddamn cops on you little whore thief."
Serena ran toward the rear of the bar where she'd just been with Mac. The guy followed and caught up grabbing her arm pulling her so she couldn't go any further.
"Get the fuck off me, I didn't take your damn wallet."
"Why are you running then, huh?" He shouted not noticing Mac in the shadow of the wall. He grabbed her shoulders. "C'mon" I 'm getting the cops down here."
Mac suddenly lunged forward like an attack dog right up in his face. "Said she didn't do it."
"People in the bar saw her. It was her all right." He managed to get out over his shock.
"Don't say? Even if they did, you best let it go, pretty boy." His voice was low and menacing but had a taunting tone too. "If you were smart" he breathed hard and pushed the guy back with a shove of his shoulder went on "you'd make a run for it now while you got the chance."
But of course Mac didn't give him a chance. Never intended to give him a chance. No one touches what was his or messed up his plans. He slammed the guy into the wall and pummeled him with an angry force Serena knew to be that meth rage. He kept going and going. Overkill. She was getting wet again just watching him. She couldn't look away from his strong arms drawing back punching, all the blood on his knuckles. The fact that she was the cause of his raw animal violence turned her on.
"Hey throw him down!"
Mac looked back. "Fuck you say?"
"On the ground."
Mac shrugged and threw the limp weakened guy to the ground. She approached and started kicking his head hard with her boots. The rage surged and she took out all her frustrations; she thought of everything they'd told her in rehab about how truly messed up she was, she thought of the girls from earlier. Mac watched as her black silver buckled motorcycle boots repeatedly slammed down onto his head and neck, with such force she became spattered with blood. The sight of blood on her arms and midriff mesmerized him; red streaks and splatters on the white skin of her abdomen made him smile and lick his lips repeatedly.
"Son of a bitch!" she said, "call the cops huh? See what you get messing with me? Now you're sorry asshole!" she was muttering angrily. Finally, she started to calm down and backed away from the bloody mess on the ground. Her rage subsided, she felt like he got what he deserved for threatening her.
"Think you killed him." Mac observed coolly, leaning against the building.
"Think we did."
She leaned back against the wall next to him as Mac asked, "Now what you gonna do tough girl."
She felt panic rising when he asked that. How would she get rid of this body? She was going to prison for a long time. "Shit." She started to shake at the realization that she'd just killed someone and had let a stranger finger fuck her to an orgasm in a parking lot. "Shit." she said again. She dug into her purse and found the leopard print pill box. She opened it and popped two 10 mg Valium, swallowing one and letting the other dissolve under her tongue for a faster effect.
Why did she let herself get so angry? Yeah, this fresh start was going great. Tequila, valium, Mac: all three target behaviors fully engaged on her first day out of rehab. Oh and don't forget murder. I guess I have a new vice. She looked over at the body on the ground.
Soon she felt the hazy everything's fine feeling take over dulling her fight or flight instinct. She'd had some fucked up one-night stands before, but none that involved a dead body. That she knew of. Fuck...she wasn't drunk enough anymore. She watched Mac drag the body over to his truck and sling it up into the bed. He was taking care of it? He walked back toward her in a slow, predatory manner. She was feeling the vallum.
"I'm saving your ass." He said it close, leaning into her face. She smelled cigarette smoke and whiskey and the something vaguely rotten from his blackened teeth, no doubt, on his hot breath, "Y'know what that means don't ya? Means it belongs to me."
She stepped back, but he gripped the back of her neck and squeezed hard. "Got it?"
She nodded.
"Say it." he growled squeezing harder.
"My ass is yours." She said it compliant.
"That's right. Along with everything else on you." His hands groped roughly over her breasts down her exposed abdomen and then cupped her crotch and rubbed gently, causing her to whimper slightly. He smiled. "Everything, don't forget it." His voice dripped sex and she felt herself wanting him again despite the menace he displayed. As usual her body defied her mind.
She nodded, slowly, staring into his eyes. He didn't like that. Didn't want that bitch looking in his eyes. He smacked her face.
"I say you could look at me?"
What the fuck am I doing. Letting the guy talk to me like this? Hit me and I'm not hitting him back? She knew it was mostly the Valium, but part of her felt drawn to him, like at the garage when she felt that pull. And he was taking care of the body he was saving her ass. No one ever did anything for her. Still it was the alcohol and the benzos, they put her in these situations. That's it. She was quitting tonight. She'd be out of this freaky town tomorrow. Her mind raced despite its foggy haze.
Why wasn't she afraid before she took the pills when he was getting her off? He said and did things that made her belly twitch and tighten and yet, he was so cold and hard to read. This was wrong, she knew it. She'd been in bad situations before because of drugs and men, but something told her this wasn't just bad this was deadly. She didn't like how he said he owned her because it didn't sound like a game it sounded like a threat.
"Get to your room. Stay out of site. Come to the garage in the morning." She watched him drive off, not really caring what he was going to do with the body.
Once back in the motel room, she decided to sleep it all off and get out of there in the morning car or no car. Hitchhike? Break down and call Ed her manager? She'd figure something out.