D for Dylan - 15. Chapter Fifteen

“He will rape you.” Elle said. “Here. I said it! If you’re dumb enough to go there, be my guest!”

“Yo, can you please dial it down?” I asked, lowering my voice. “We’re in public.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Last time I checked it was me who caught that creep forcing himself on your drunk ass.” she reminded, referring to the night of Jason Wu’s party. “Do you even know what a red flag is?”

“Elle, I need to find out! He said he’ll show me something, what if there’s a video?”

“What video? Are you crazy? If he had such dirt on your boyfriend, he would’ve leaked it right away!”

“Yeah, and then Shanice would’ve ended him and his family.”

“Oh…” she moaned. “Well, maybe, but… He could’ve showed it to you!”

“Yes, then I would’ve confronted Jake and he would’ve outed Liam’s dad.” I pointed out.

“Oh…”

“They’re in this shit together, Elle. They can’t rat each other out, they have to be careful.” I theorized. “That’s why Jake didn’t press charges after their fight, why they both didn’t want to get cops involved.”

“Alright-alright, but he could’ve just told you, okay? Why the fuck do you have to go to his house?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll go.”

“Can you at least take my pepper spray?” Elle begged, frantically sweeping through the trash in her purse. “And grab something sharp too! A screwdriver!”

“A screwdriver?!”

“Yes!” she confirmed with a creepy smile. “Or an ice pick! And if he makes a wrong move just stab that fucker like the blonde bitch from Basic Instinct.”

“I hate that movie.” I said. “Also, you’re crazy.”

“You’re the one falling for your enemy’s trap.” she said, handing me the pepper spray. “Here. 3 million Scoville Heat Units.”

At times like these, Elle scared me much more than Liam ever did. I did take her pepper spray though. One could never be too careful, especially when dealing with Liam Henderson.

On my way home I was ruminating about what Liam could possibly show me. Could it be some compromising video? Was it possible that Jake actually harmed someone?

The sun was setting, early evening sky was pestering with purple, orange and red colors, warm light washed over suburban trees, but even such beautiful entourage of my walk did little to help me relax. Each passing thought was more terrifying than preceding one and I failed to calm myself. I took a hot shower, put on a dark blue shirt with a pair of shorts and went downstairs. Mom was picking up Sarah from preschool, I was too anxious to face her and decided to head outside.

“Did you just leave? I saw your backpack on the couch.” Helen called twenty minutes later, as they made it home.

“Yeah, I’m gonna hang out with Peter and Elle for a few hours…”

I hated lying to my mom, but the prospect of having her murder me in cold blood for crossing the premises of Henderson residence was a dicey alternative.

“I’m cooking chicken noodle soup, I’ll leave some in the fridge for you, okay?” she said.

“Sure.”

“Let me know if you’d want me to pick you up?”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“Alright, sounds good. That stupid Christensen kid spilled watercolors all over your sister’s clothes, so we’re having lots of fun scrubbing it off tonight.” she moaned with raging annoyance.

“Mo-o-om! I told you we were trying to draw a butterfly!” I heard Sarah protesting in the background.

“You know what, young lady? You stick that butterfly up his ass next time you see that little shi-”

“Alright mom, I’m gonna go!” I cut in, saving myself from participating in their fight.

“See ya later baby! Say hi to both of them for me!”

The last rays of light passed through the canopy of sycamore trees in our neighborhood, and as the street descended into twilight, the fog enveloped most of the visible distance. I glanced at the clock - it was ten past seven, time for me to head over to him, if I wanted to be ‘on time’, like Liam ordered.

It was weird how my mind worked sometimes. I hated the bastard, clearly. He was assertive, stubborn and cruel. The sweet puppy-dog love I once had for him was long dead, rotting in the outskirts of my conscience like Voldemort’s final horcrux. But the other side of that infatuation turned out to be much more resilient than I anticipated. How the fuck else could I explain a boner I popped sitting on that bench?

What was wrong with me? How could a guy that made my life a living hell still sexually arouse me, after all this time? How could I justify thinking about his body, regardless of how fucking stunning it looked?

Was I that shallow?

Or was it growing up in a house with a workaholic, cheating-ass abusive father?

Getting out of the bus near Liam’s place, I chuckled at how cliché it was, to fall a victim of textbook daddy issues. It felt like I was poisoned, really. A shameful, disgusting response of my body to his. A reflex I wasn’t able to control, like a dog in heat.

On one hand, I had Jake - a guy who fell for me when everybody else, including Liam, saw an ugly nerd and a bunching bag morphed into one. Still, could my fairytale boyfriend turn out to be a murderous, manipulative psychopath? Sure.

But Liam actually was one, that much I knew for a fact. So why was I feeling so warm in my belly, smelling his fucking sweat?

‘I’m standing outside.’ I texted him, sharp at 8.

‘Come up to my room. Door’s unlocked.’ he texted back.

I rolled my eyes at the nerve he had. What an asshole. Emma was obviously away and I wondered if his dad was at home. Standing at the bronze colored copper gates of

Henderson mansion felt like a blast from the past. I brushed my hand across the dent in one of the crossbars - Liam bent it on a dare with his bare hands, when he was 15. It’s been years since I’ve been here. I always loved their house much more than mine - not because of how fancy and expensive it was, but because of how safe it felt compared to my own.

I looked around the front yard as I’ve made my way past the gates. I must’ve looked like a dork, gawking at the renovated fountain and a few new cars parked by the entrance to the garage. Otherwise, not much has really changed. White marble exterior of their house was glowing with bright warm beam lights set covertly on the ground by the flowerbeds. I glanced at Emma’s blooming lilies and smiled at how beautiful they still looked.

As I pushed the heavy front door and walked past the entrance, an overwhelming sense of nostalgia washed over me in a much harder way that I prepared myself for. It must’ve been because Liam didn’t meet me downstairs to spoil it for me. So many happy memories were connected to this house, walking towards the stairs I recalled a few of them, glancing in different corners of the hallway, peeking into their kitchen and dining room.

I could immediately tell that uncle Hank wasn’t home. The presence of Henderson-senior was always very loud, for the lack of a better word. In my mind, he always resembled a market trader in a tux. He had infectious laughter, magnetic personality and a strong presence, people gravitated towards him and there would typically be a small gathering around him anywhere he went. Liam doted on his father, always followed him around and copied whatever he did. Hank Henderson left one of the most positive imprints on me, especially as a rare example of a strong father-figure.

Considering what he’s done to Emma, Hank’s good-natured appearances were as much a ruse as the friendship between his son and me. The apple didn’t fall too far from the tree, turns out.

I noted that it was rather dark downstairs. Occasional dim lights illuminated odd corners of deserted rooms, but it was clear that the house once bubbling with joy was now sitting empty.

“Liam?” I spoke out, softly.

A faint echo returned my own call, and then I heard some commotion happening upstairs. The door to his room was on the second floor, next to the opening of the arched staircase. It was ajar, there was bright light coming out, illuminating the red carpet trailing across the hallway.

I felt a little lightheaded on my way up. Every house had its own unique odor and Henderson’s house wasn’t an exception. Somehow, despite Emma’s absence, I still picked up on fresh chocolate chip cookies. The smell made me remember those days vividly, triggering both happiness and anger. If only Liam stayed the way he was, it all could’ve gone differently...

As I reached the top of the staircase, something changed in the air. It became charged and heavy, all of a sudden. Gone was the scent of cookies, overpowered by Liam’s cologne with a touch of… lavender?

I took a few more heavy steps towards his room, not knowing if I was actually ready to enter it after 3 long years. Has he changed things around? I sure hoped he finally took down the hideous poster with half-naked Pamela Anderson next to his bed.

“Look, Lia-” I uttered, but froze mid-sentence, as I approached his room.

Nothing could’ve prepared me for what I saw. It felt like someone punched me in the gut and knocked my breath out.

What. The. FUCK.

My skin flustered, as if splashed with a bucket of boiling hot water.

Shortly after dad left us back when I was 13, mom and I got addicted to all kinds of movies. Immersing yourself in a world, where everything always worked out one way or another was comforting, especially for someone trying a fix a broken heart. The moment Richard Gere climbed that fire escape and spread out his arms for Julia Roberts at the end of Pretty Woman had always given me chills. It was romantic, it was pure and fucking beautiful, but most of all - it made perfect sense. It was exactly what he was supposed to do. How could he not? How could he live if he’d lost her, if he’d never heard her crazy laughter again or never seen her and her fiery read hair waking up next to him in the morning? It was true love, and it was powerful enough to transform both of them. I fucking cried, each time.

Unfortunately for the good of humanity, 1990’s spawned another genre of movies that I fucking hated. Basic Instinct, Cruel Intentions, Wild Things, the list went on and on. Those ‘masterpieces’ were all about money, power and sex, stripping human nature down to its most basic, primal instincts.

I always wondered what was closer to reality - Pretty Woman or Cruel Intentions? Which one was closer to the heart of an average human being - was it something beautiful that made your chest flutter with excitement, or something sinister that glorified betrayal and made your cock rock hard?

In the universe I shared with Liam Henderson, Cruel Intentions clearly won.

My shuddering breath came to a complete halt, as I stood there, shocked beyond belief, watching him fuck the shit out of his girlfriend.

It wasn’t an accident. He was expecting me.

He set this up, he wanted me to walk in on them.

The lights from the ceiling and three lamps surrounding the bed were bright enough to burn the surface of my retinas, making gruesome, shocking scene unfolding in front of my eyes that much more 4k.

Liam’s king sized bed was in the perfect plane of my sight, crumbled gray comforters never uncovered, as their naked bodies rocked up and down on top of it. His black button shirt and boxers, her jersey, panties and bra scattered everywhere across the room. His iphone was right next to him, bouncing on the mattress, somersaulting and backflipping in-sync with criss-crossed bodies, fucking harder than in any porn I’ve ever seen.

19-year-old athlete was on top of his unsuspecting girlfriend, pushed up on his fists, muscular body looming over her significantly smaller frame, as he opened and closed the gap between their lower bodies, throwing her into a fit of mind-boggling orgasm.

“Aaahh! Ooohh god baby, yesss! Aaaahh!.. Aaaahhhh!!!” Jessica moaned.

He planned it very well, every nook and cranny was set up purposefully. They were giving me the best possible view. He had her blindfolded, his hand slapping her across the face, choking her neck, as his eyes were razor focused on the person this performance was intended for.

Me.

‘And when I’ll show you… you’ll find out what you were missing.’ his words reverberated in my hollowed out skull.

How could I be so fucking stupid?

My face turned red, I knew it. I felt the heat radiating off my cheeks as he watched me. My teeth were clenched tight enough to crack my jaw, the decimating rage burned hotter in the furnace somewhere deep inside my chest, and I struggled to hide that fire from him. For a moment, I contemplated pulling out Elle’s pepper spray and getting Liam’s smug face intimately acquainted with 3 million Scoville Heat Units.

Instead, I swallowed. Hard.

In the shadow of the hallway where I stood, my eyes moved down from his face to the place that I, to my dismay, struggled to ignore. I wanted to feel sorry for Jessica, but our prior interactions left me with little empathy for her, even in a situation like this. She was strikingly beautiful though. As ridiculously gay as I was, I could certainly appreciate Liam’s taste in gorgeous women. Watching her felt wrong, but to be fair, it wasn’t her that my eyes really followed.

He was wearing a condom. It was snapped tightly across the middle of his shaft, strangling a few large veins and rolling up and down his slippery skin. The wrist-wide girth of his member stretched the walls of her pussy paper thin. Pale, bloodless lips of catastrophically distended vagina everted and dragged outwards each time he withdrew, forcing her body to follow the curve of his strokes, as he rubbed hysterical orgasms out of her squirting cunt. It was such a tight fit, that a flush of blood turned his cock back into its pinkish hue each time he forced their genitals to disjoin.

He was good at it. Scratch that, he was fucking spectacular at it. My hands formed into fists as I watched him rock his athletic body up and down, maintaining perfect rhythm and pace, spraying sweat all over the sheets, radiating confidence, power and stamina in every fucking movement he made. She was moaning and whimpering, her arms wrapped around his muscular back, freshly-manicured nails leaving bloody scratches on his slippery skin, as he showed her God.

This is what he wanted me to see.

Large, blood-curdling shivers ran across my spine as I realized that I was losing this fight. Elle was right. I fell into his fucking trap. He brought me here to show me what I missed, to remind me that he still had power over me.

I looked away, I needed to leave, even if it meant that he will get what he wanted, that he came out on top - this whole situation was quickly approaching foul play.

“Aaahhh fuck, fuck Liam! Liaaaaam!!!” Jess wailed, thrashing on the bed and breaking into tears.

An arrogant, twisted grin contorted his face as he watched me, huffing and puffing. He was showering her in his sweat, pounding her pussy a few inches short of full-length, bottoming out of her cervix around ten inches deep, unable to penetrate her all the way in.

What the fuck was going on? Why the fuck was I watching, why was I letting him get away with this shit?!

I needed to focus.

He wanted me to watch. Okay. I was watching. He was getting off, tears glistening in his eyes as his toes curled in pleasure, knowing that he had me wrapped around his finger.

Not so fast.

As I recently discovered, two could play this game. He wanted me to watch? Wanted to show me what I was missing? Fine. I’ll show him too. I’ll remind him what he’ll never get.

The influx of confidence felt nice. I needed to show him his place, he had to know which one of us was in control. I took a deep breath, unclenched my fists and stepped inside the room, forcing him to break out of rhythm. He slowed down, following me with his eyes, as I approached the bed and sat on the chair right next to them. Jessica’s black, lacy bra was thrown over the armrest, I tossed it on the floor and sprawled out languidly on the cushions, spreading my arms on the sides.

“Bring it on.” I mouthed silently, looking him straight in the eye.

He was confused and dumbfounded, but refused to yield and drop his little act.

‘Fine,’ - I thought, - ‘Let’s play this game. This time, on my terms.’

The heavy smell of sex hit my nostrils, as the sounds of their coition intensified. Liam raged on, gritted teeth clenched shut as he watched me, doing his best to illicit response. Jessica was having a time of her life, sweaty boobs bouncing in circles, skin flustered red, arms and legs flailing in the air as he mounted her like a grisly and fucked her with his huge cock.

The joy of observing the crippling anxiety on his handsome face was priceless. I smiled at him, shifting around in the chair, demonstrating how utterly unbothered I was by what I saw. The bulging artery in his temple pulsated heavily, as tension and distress contorted his face and forced him to break that smug expression.

I smiled wider, showing my teeth. Lifting one foot up on the seat, I hugged myself and bit my lip.

“Oooohh…. Aahhh!” he groaned.

His face turned red, large veins in his neck rolled like worms underneath the skin. I could only imagine how sore his muscles must’ve felt, but he wasn’t getting any of my empathy for it. Instead, I was going to make things even more uncomfortable. Reaching under the edge of my shirt, I lifted it up, exposing my bare abdomen and chest for him to see.

He started breathing heavier, gaze shifted from my face to my body, as I sucked on my index finger and used the moisture to rub my nipple in circles. If my body was truly what he was after, I wanted him to know exactly what he lost.

Poor, blindfolded Jessica had no idea that her boyfriend was using her as a human-fleshlight. I still didn’t feel sorry for her. I tried to warn her, but she wasn’t interested in a ‘fucking cautionary tale’. What could I say? You fuck around and find out.

He was getting close. Heavy grunts and muffled moans made him open his mouth, as his eyebrows slid on his forehead. Liam’s eyes were dancing in between my eyes, my lips and nipples. He started shaking, his muscular pelvis drawing circles in the air, swinging his pendulous phallus in and out of her cunt under new fucked up angles, digging and rubbing the deepest corners of her drenching wet pussy.

“Aaaaaaahhh! God yeesss! Liaaaaam!!! Aaaaahh!”

The wet, slurping sounds of their intercourse were ringing in my ears, as I stood off the chair and walked dangerously close to the edge of the bed. His eyes were rolling behind sockets, snot running down his flaring nostrils as he followed my every move. I reached his warm face with a palm of my hand and cupped his cheek. He instinctively leaned into it, like a baby nursing for his mother’s tit, rubbing his face against the only strip of my skin I allowed him to touch.

It felt nice. Watching him act like this, felt nice. I never fucking imagined, that there will come a day I would wield this much power over Liam fucking Henderson.

“Suck it.” I mouthed, leaning over his face and sliding two of my fingers into his mouth.

His swollen red lips wrapped around my digits as I inserted them in the vacuuming wetness of his mouth. He groaned, closing his eyes, sliding his large, cool tongue in the webspace between my fingers. Tasting salt from off my skin, he hungrily lapped all over it, massaging my pads and licking nail beds, gagging slightly, as I pressed down the root of his tongue. I smiled, watching tears form in his eyes.

He was mine. All mine, to do whatever the fuck I wanted. The weight of this realization hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. A tsunami, no less.

No fucking way… I watched him suck on my fingers like it was the most delicious meal on earth, and I simply couldn’t help but feel that God was real. Only a divine being could’ve planned and concocted such a perfect twist of fate.

I pulled my fingers out of his mouth and playfully slapped his cheek.

“Have fun.” I mouthed silently.

The number of times I felt this good about myself was small enough to count with one hand. Turning around and leaving him hot and bothered, seconds away from his climax, felt exhilarating.

“Liam?.. Liam!..” Jess gasped, as he abruptly tore himself away from her, jumping on the carpet.

“Stay here! Don’t move!” I heard him shout at her.

I was halfway across the hall to the stairwell when he caught up with me. He grabbed my arm, shoved me into the wall and smashed our lips in a disturbingly deep, fucked up kiss. His arms were groping me, one hand choking my neck, other sliding underneath my shorts, grabbing my asscheek.

It wasn’t even a kiss. Our heads tilted, tongues wrestled, lips slid off on cheeks as we devoured each other. My fingers weaved into his wet hair, his sweat soaked through my clothes, naked body grinding me into the wall. My body wasn’t listening to me, I had no fucking control, but neither did he. My spare hand pressed against his chiseled abs, slipping down on his cock. The throbbing slab of his meat burned my palm and I pulled off his condom. It was hot, harder than stone and bigger than my fucking arm.

“Aahhh! Aahhh!!…” he groaned, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead into mine.

I jerked him. His dick didn’t fit into my hand, but it didn’t matter. It only took four strokes. I was almost laughing, as I watched thick ropes of his cum messing up my shirt. He was shaking and moaning, his face buried into the angle of my neck, lips grazing my sensitive skin as he exhaled in short spasms.

His sperm was dripping on the floor, as I released his penis and wiped the remnants of his orgasm on his belly. The dense, zombiefying fog started to fizzle off, and we finally noticed Jessica, standing a few feet away from us.

The mere spectrum of emotions sprinkled across her devastated face gave me yet another smile. What a fucking shit show.

“What the fuck…” she gasped in a breaking voice.

I slithered out of Liam’s moist embrace and let out the biggest sigh of my life.

“I told you…” I exhaled, wiping her boyfriend’s spit from my face. “You should’ve looked at his tattoo.”