Stephanie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I just make them darker.
Again, this chapter contains strong language, scenes of violence and lemons. Please stop now if you are offended by this, or don't want your child reading this.
Which, come to think of it, why are you letting them read this anyway? It's rated "M" for a reason.
###
"You whore. You stupid, fucking whore. Don't ever talk like that to me again, ever."
The hand slaps my face again. Again.
No way out. Have to get out.
Mama, help me. Come find me. Please mama….
###
I could hear Nessie sobbing, against the sounds of glass breaking and Bella's screech. Could imagine the damage she was doing to the cottage, her fury undone, out of control.
She better not do anything to the Matisse. That goes back next month, and I sure as hell don't want to have to explain to the Russians why it's got a huge chunk ripped out of it. Otherwise there goes a couple million out of their budget. Lets see her buy herself a couple dozen pairs of Ernest Sewn jeans then. Spoiled brat, what a disaster this girl turned out to be. What a bloody mess. What were we thinking…
They're all there at the edge of the glade; anxious, concern rolling off them. Poor Jaz, he's literally quivering with the effort to calm down everyone. Alice's face is contorted in concentration, trying to see what the outcome of this will be, how it will play out. Carlisle and Esme are nearly frantic, Esme ringing her hands like Lady Macbeth, trying to clean the stain that only she can see; his thoughts are all over the place – worry about the baby, Edward, our family.
Rose and Emmett just want to be done with this.
Please Sofia, can we just get it over with? Please? This is fucking ridiculous. We stand to lose everything we've worked for.
"Its alright Rosalie. I can handle this."
She snorts. "Sure Sofia. That's why you look like someone walked over your grave." Looks in the direction of the cottage; at least the sound of destruction has abated somewhat. Edward must have her on the floor by now, trying to control the situation. Can't tell. Can't read his thoughts. Too clouded with anger, concern for the baby.
"She said something that really hurt you, didn't she? You're so transparent right now. I bet I know what she called you…" She knows me all too well. Nobody calls me that and gets away with it. Not now. Not then.
"This won't end like L.A. did Rosalie. That was an anomaly."
Look up at her, at them. The love here is overwhelming. He's the only one missing. I know where I stand with them. With him.
Poor Edward, dealing with that harpy. I really should go back and…
"No Sofia. He's a man. He'll handle it. He has to. Let's go back to the house." Carlisle interrupts my thoughts. Looks at me, his expectations are so high, he knows what I can do. What I have to do. Reaches his hand out to me.
Let it go Sofia. You have a job to do. I know you'll take care of it. Go and enjoy yourself today. Emmett has the Jeep ready and waiting.
Today.
Inwardly I smile. Today.
Today is Thanksgiving and Christmas, wrapped into one.
Yeah….
###
We're on my bed, us girls.
I'm packed, just waiting to see if the iPod makes it up to the house before we leave. If not, well, that won't really have any affect on our plans. We'll just have to keep the volume lower. It's been done before.
Alice rubs my feet, distractedly pages through a copy of Vogue Nippon I brought back for her last month. Rosalie brushes my hair, slowly, like a mother would. Lingers at the scalp, runs her fingers through after each stroke of the brush.
And Esme.
Esme holds me in her arms, protecting me. Mothering me. Knowing what I need.
"Bella's coming over. She'll be here with Edward in about 10 minutes to apologize" Alice glances out the window, back towards the cottage. Furrows her brow.
Whatever. I just want to go. Get this over with.
"I'll play nice. For Nessie and Edwards sake. But not hers."
Such disrespect. Really. No manners with that one.
##
We're in the Jeep now, Emmett and I, driving up to Seattle.
He stares straight ahead. I can't tell if he's more anxious about what happened today, or what's to come. A bit of both, probably. He thrives on drama, even though he'd deny it up and down. He's a bit like a girl sometimes.
"Well, was that an apology, or was that an apology?" he finally spits out.
I laughed; feeling more relaxed, now that I'm away from the house. "More like a non-apology. She didn't mean it. She only said it because she was upset she got caught. I know she's had it in for me since the wedding." Which is true.
"Yeah, well, I feel bad for Eddie and the baby. That wasn't right."
"Don't sweat it Em, it's over. Can't dwell on it."
He glances over at me. Says nothing. Yeah, well, maybe somebody should stop dwelling on a part of her past, let it finally go….
"Shut up Emmett."
And up he shuts.
###
Baby smells nearly new. The guys at the dealership worked overtime on her. And I reward them for their efforts. Shoot them the baby blues; murmur my thanks as I shake their hands, leaving behind five Benny Fs in my wake as I do.
They can't believe this. No one has every tipped like this before. Hell, they worked hard getting Jake's stench out of there. They earned it. They look up and down Pike Street in disbelief.
"Well, uh, thanks Mrs. M. We're, uh, we're…"
"Speechless?" I ask, smiling. "Okay if I leave Baby here until later? I have some appointments to run, and it'd be easier if we just have one vehicle."
They grin in return. "Sure. Come back when you're ready ma'am. You know he code for the lot gate. Have a nice day."
You bet I will.
###
"Sure I can't come in?"
"Yup. I'm a big girl. I can do this myself daddy."
He pouts. Emmett is so damn cute when he does that. He folds his arms, sighs and looks out the driver's side window.
"Okay Sof, but next time? Rose comes along too. Deal?"
"Tag team? Yeah, that worked out so well last time, didn't it?"
"Ah Jesus, Polski, you know that had nothing to do with you. If that old bitch hadn't come nosing over to see what was going on, we wouldn't have had that problem. Besides, you know how I like to watch sometimes."
Oh. My. God. Please. Emmett. I'm nervous enough.
"Okay Em. Deal. If nothing more than to get you outta here."
Shoots me that huge grin, punches my left shoulder.
"Go get 'em cowgirl."
###
"Michael".
Surprised, he whips his head around, tearing it away from the lurid images on the flat screen. Empty beer cans and used tissues litter the floor around the stained lounger he lays on. His right hand stops in mid-stroke. His breathing is ragged, staggered. On the screen, the forced moans continue.
WTF?
His mouth opens and closes like a beached fish, gasping for air on the deck.
Who, wha, her?
"Shhh, Michael. Don't say a word". I press my right index finger to my lips. His confusion is simply delicious. No clue at all. Nice.
"Surprised?"
"Hell yeah." Remembers his dick in his hand, fumbles, trying hastily to shove it back in his boxers. "How'd you get in here?"
You'd think if someone came into your home unannounced, you do more than wonder how they got in.
"Why, by the front door, of course Michael, with the key". No dummy, I magically transformed myself into mist and wafted through the keyhole. What a fool.
I shift slightly; let him get a good look at the girls barely contained in the tight, sheer tee shirt. 'Dress to impress', that's my motto. Wander over to the shelving unit containing his porn DVDs. Umm, let's see what he's got here. Maybe something for the boys; a little souvenir. They'd like that. Especially Carlisle. Just a little 'thank you' for his hospitality.
"Ha, uh, what key?" he finally sputters out. He's so confused this one, busted in mid-stroke. Ha!
"The one to the front door." Genius. "We own this house."
Now he's really getting confused. "We?"
Here, let me make it easy for you. I'll even try to use words of one syllable.
"Yes, we. Remember that house you dropped me off at in Forks? Well, we own this house. And we're not very pleased with the way you been caring for it. Do you not take out your trash Michael? How do you live like this?" Face him, hands on my hips, legs slightly apart. Bend over a bit; let the girls do the talking. I step back, nearly spike a pizza box with my heel. Jesus, what a moron.
He stands up, wipes a smear of pizza sauce off his mouth with his right hand.
Oh yuck!
Smirking, moves around me from the chair. Looks me up and down, like a side of beef. On the screen the action has shifted; now one of the women is pathetically oohing and awing over the size of the actor's equipment. The film looks like it was shot in a trailer park; which is probably was, considering the title of this gem is "Trailer Trash Threesome."
"Heh, better break her in before her uncle does". Lovely, just lovely. What. filth. His thoughts aren't too far removed from the dialogue coming from the screen.
"So baby, whaddya say. Now that you're here, how 'bout we get to know each other better?"
Someone comes into your home, someone you don't know, and you don't even think of calling 911. I smile at him, mentally roll my eyes. Too easy to read, this one.
"Oooh, that sounds like a wonderful idea Michael" I purr, glancing at the titles on the shelf again. There'll be something for all the guys. Girl on girl, Emmett likes like that. Bondage stuff, that's got Jaz written all over it. 'Naughty Schoolgirls Spanking', that's for Carlisle. Brits like that for some reason.
Huh, Dom/Sub stuff. I know someone who loves that stuff. Too bad there's no gardening titles here for Edward. Odd man out again.
"Stay here until I call you upstairs."
Damn, should have changed the sheets. Been a few weeks, What the hell…
As you might expect, his bedroom is worse than the den. The bed? Worse. I was so glad I wasn't human anymore'; who knows what was living between those threads.
Set up the scene. Pop the iPod into the speakers and straddle a decrepit wooden chair left in the corner. Not going to last long anyway. At least he has a king size bed. That's a help.
"Michael, come up here. Now".
He nearly trips over his feel running up the stairs, he's so excited. I've seen newborn kittens more coordinated than him. He stops in the doorway, adjusts his eyes to the dim light; they shoot open at the sight of me in the chair. The tee shirt has been replaced by a tight, cream and black bustier with ivory lace and ribbons running up and down the ribbing. Matching garters and black stockings with seams running up the back. Short black leather jacket over my shoulders. Black ankle boots with four-inch spike heels. I clutch a short riding crop.
Kitten with a whip, that's me.
My husband would approve of this getup. He should. He bought it for me.
I stretch my arms over the back of the chair. "Lit" by Buckcherry blasts from the speakers. Michael is stunned.
Oh man, this is not real. No fucking way. This is better than anything I've ever seen from Vivid.
"Like what you see Michael?" He's panting. Those stairs do Dough Boy in every time. I toss my hair back, look at him from half-closed eyes, and open my legs a bit. Purse and lick my lips. Pat the disgusting sheets on the bed. He's lost. Completely lost. I won't even tell you what he's thinking.
"Sit". He finally wakes up. Moves over to the bed and stands there. I push him down with the end of the crop. "That's a good boy". He trips again getting onto the mattress. Yeesh, what a klutz.
"So baby, ya gonna blow me now or what? How 'bout letting me get a look at those delicious tits of yours". Come on bitch, bend over already….
Yeah, he's smooth all right.
"What a great idea Michael. But first, let's take your clothes off so I can get a good look at Old Major."
You'll do more than look at him whore. Have him shoved down your throat for starters.
Uh oh. Somebody said the "W" word.
He tears off his boxers and wife beater with a look on his face like it's Christmas morning. Such expectation. So clueless.
I kick the chair over. "Shout it Out Loud" by Kiss roars through the room. Poke him with the crop, crawl onto those disgusting sheets, peel off the jacket; how do humans live like this? Disgusting.
His pulse is pounding, mouth opening in expectation. I won't tell you what Old Major is doing, except he should be busted down to Private.
"Ooo Michael, look at you! So, so…" Pathetically small
"Say it baby, come on say it. "
"So…huge. I hope I can handle it all". This is just too easy. This stuff writes itself.
You will, and more than you think, bitch.
He sits ups, tries to grab my right breast. Beast.
And then I shove him back; the force sends his head cracking against the wall, leaving a dent.
"What the FUCK?!" he roars in disbelief and fear. Now he's angry and scared. This wasn't what he expected.
"What's wrong Michael? I thought you liked it rough." Guns N' Roses is screaming now. 'Mr. Brownstone'. "At least, that's what you've been thinking."
"Ha, how do you know what I'm thinking?" He's trying to slither off of the bed, but I've got his arms gripped against the mattress. Nope. Don't even try to escape.
"Oh I know a lot about you. It's my job to know a lot about you." I straddle him now, let go of his arms, and push down on his chest. His arms shoot up, try to grab my arms, but he has no chance. I slap his face; raking his cheek with my nails, leave a deep welt. His head whips back, hits the wall again.
"And I don't like what I know."
He's struggling to push me off now. All thoughts of sex are gone now. Now he's trying to survive.
"Ah ah Michael, stop that. We're just getting started. Relax baby".
Struggles some more. "I'll, I'll scream. The neighbors will call the cops, they'll hear me."
"Why Michael, they'll do nothing of the sort. They all received tickets to the Mariners double-header today. They're down at Safeco now. It's just you and me! Won't that be fun?" I'm starting to enjoy this. Sick.
And then I slap him face again, just because it feels so good to do so.
"Dude, if you're gonna watch porn, at least get the quality stuff. What you've got running doesn't cut it. And you have some decent shit there."
Emmett.
"What the hell? Who are you? Where'd you come from"?
Emmett laughs. "Through the bathroom window dork, waddya think? Havin' fun Sof?"
Michael's head whips back and forth from me to the door. Trying to comprehend what's happening. How the dynamic changed so quickly.
I smile, turn around, keeping Michael pinned to the bed. "Emmett! How nice of you to join us. Have you meet our new friend Michael? Michael, say hello to Emmett."
"No, but I've met his porn collection. What a mix. Want some help sis?"
"Why Emmett thank you. Always the gentleman. Would you mind holding Michael's arms for me, from behind?"
Mike pales, takes a good look at Emmett's hulk. Struggles some more, breathing ragged from the exertion. He starts to yell. I slap him again.
"Shut up already. That mouth of yours annoys the hell outta me!".
Emmett grabs his arms, swings himself between the wall and Michael, pulls him and holds him up. Tendons and ligaments bend and moan. Michael screams.
"Shut up. You and your filthy mouth and mind; Just shut up!" Slap him again. Just like I was slapped. "I. Am. Not. A. Whore. Got it?" I can hear his cervical vertebrae creak with each slap.
"Sof, take it easy. You're killing him. Slow down."
I'm really tired of his mouth.
"I know what you were thinking of me in the limo, and what you wanted to do to me, did you know that? Nod if you do."
He's sobbing now, turns his head away. Emmett grabs his chin forces him to look at me. "Answer the lady, bitch." He forces his eyes open, nods. The snot is streaming down his mouth, onto his chin.
"You're a bad boy Michael. A very bad boy. And do you know what happens to bad boys Michael?" I hit his chest with the crop, he gasps and the skin welts up, leaving a bruise instantly. I throw the crop away; won't need it anymore. I feel the bile rise in my throat, my eyes are starting to glaze.
He's crying full bore now. Losing control. I move up a bit; let Emmett get a good look at the girls, he's earned it. Lean down to his right ear; Emmett has this dopey look on his face, he's so into this. I can almost imagine the size of his erection. Rosie should so be here; she'd love this. She'll be a happy woman later today.
"They get spanked Michael" I whisper. He whimpers, cringes away from my mouth. I take a nip of his ear. Feel the warm blood as it touches my tongue.
Ahhhhh…
"Well, well, well darlin', what mischief are you up to?"
I can't believe it. I look at Emmett. He's grinning like an idiot. Looks at me, shoots me a 'surprise' look; his pupils are completely black now. Like mine.
Leaning against the doorframe, arms and legs crossed, eyes lowered and a slight smile on his face, drinking in the scene, drinking in the sight of me hovering over Michael, Emmett's laughter.
My husband.
He's so stealthy, my man. I didn't hear him, didn't smell him.
I'm in his arms, pinning him to the doorframe; it cracks from the force. "Oh sweetheart, you're here! I had no idea, oh baby". He stops me with a hard kiss, slipping his tongue past my teeth, licking the blood from my tongue, then sweeping it across my teeth. Sighs. Exhales.
"Can't let you and Emmett have all the fun now, can I?" he drawls. Nods to Emmett relaxing against the wall, who responds with a hearty "Dude!" Michael tries again in vain to escape, pull away, only to have Emmett pull him back. He cries out in pain again.
"Is this the one you told me about? The one thinking those vile, filthy thoughts about you?" He runs his left hand through my hair, lets it linger on my cheek, across my mouth all the while staring into my shining eyes.
My man.
"Yes baby it is. We were just getting better acquainted." Rob Zombie now. "Dragula".
He chuckles, squeezes my ass with his right hand. He loves that. "Well then darlin', why don't you introduce me." Spins me around, pushes me up against the wall. I can fell his erection through his jeans. I'm gasping now. Too long, been so long…
Later kitten, afterwards. Now we need to feast.
Carries me over the bed. Mozart now. 'Requiem for the Dead'. Dies Irae.
"Who the fuck are you? Why are you doing this to me?" Michael tries again to get up. Got to give the boy points for perseverance.
My husband takes off his leather jacket, his shirt. Oooh, I've missed that.
Emmett laughs again. "Sis, you should see your face. Priceless. Dude, you cannot let her go this long between lovins. She's a fucking minx today."
My husband looks at us, smiles. "I know. I've been remiss. I have a lot of time to make up for." You bet you do buster.
"So Michael, I hear you called my wife some disrespectful names. Is this true?" Glaring at him now. Sucks to be you. "Answer me." He leans down, sniffs over his face and chest, looks for the most obvious pulse points, licks his throat.
He looks at my man; he's totally confused. His mind is whirling, thoughts completely muddled. Thoughts of giving up. Writhes against the sensation of moisture on his throat.
Bauhaus now. Bela Lugosi. Cheesy, but so appropriate.
"Who are you man? What are you people?" The blood from my bite is starting to bubble up now. Emmett inhales. Easy buddy. Almost there.
I feel dizzy: I'm dancing around the room now, my arms out, watching from hooded eyes as my husband and Emmett prepare Michael for me. For us.
Undead, undead, undead
He sees three pairs of black eyes staring at him.
And then we set upon him.
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A/N: More on Monday. The aftermath. Have a great weekend. Thanks again for all the support.
I'm beat. Time to knit.