I climb off the bed, still naked and walk over to the closet, eyeing the box that haunts me. I take a deep breath and grab it, sliding it from its place on the shelf. I walk over to the bed and sit smack dab in the middle, crossing my legs as I contemplate opening it. I run my hands over the lid, my heart picking up as I look at it. I haven’t opened this in over two years. Biting my lip, I pull the lid off, the box filled with pictures, a collar, and my wedding rings stare back at me. My finger runs over the white leathered collar, the one Travis would put around my neck when he wanted me to obey him. I push it aside and grab the first photo I see. A picture of Travis’s family, along with Addie in Travis’s hands. I smile. Addie was so small; it’s crazy how she has grown.
My finger runs over Travis’s face, his chiseled jaw, and piercing eyes. He was handsome, but held a severe presence to him. Being on top with Bobby today was scary on so many levels. I wasn’t allowed on top with my husband much; it gave a sense of control which I wasn’t allowed. When Travis did allow me on top, he made sure I knew who was in control, and it wasn’t pleasurable. The acts with Bobby today caused memories from being with Travis to form behind my eyelids. Travis’s voice would sound in my ear, his hands gripping me painfully, causing me to have a panic attack. I never let go, never felt anything other than fear. Not ‘til today. After I tied Bobby up, and had the warmth of combusting from the depths Bobby was hitting, I forgot all about Travis, until afterwards. What was so different?
I slide my finger over a picture of Travis’s brother, Grant, who looks identical to him. I never saw much of Grant; he was always away, hardly ever at family gatherings. What Travis said about Grant led me to believe he was the problem child of the family. From what I gathered, it was because Grant didn’t want to follow the family’s footsteps into medicine, but I had no idea what the truth was. I look the box over, images of being dragged into that basement and screaming for remorse fire in my mind like a collage. My heart races, making me inhale sharply. I grab the lid and slam it back on the box, walk back over to the closet, and push it in its spot.
“Shit, what time is it?” I mutter, looking at the clock on my phone. I notice I have been sitting in the same spot for hours. It’s already three in the afternoon and is time to pick up Addie.
7
Bobby
I’m sitting at the club, watching the news and drinking a beer, thoughts of Jessica reeling through my mind. The way she opened up and took charge was beyond my expectations. The display of her riding me is an image I swear I’ll never forget. The look of her flushed face, the stray hairs hanging over her face, and her parted mouth as she rode my dick, makes my cock ripple with eagerness just thinking about it. I close my eyes, and shake my head to clear the image, taking a sip of my beer.
Hearing giggles, I glance over my shoulder, seeing Juliet, a tattooed redhead pull Tom Cat down the hall. Looks like someone is getting lucky tonight. I pull my phone out and lay it on the table, contemplating calling Jessica. I want to call her, but after the boundaries we crossed today? I’m not so sure if that’s a good idea. She might want space and shit.
“What’s up with you?” Lip asks dryly, sliding onto a stool next to me.
“Nothing.” I bring the tip of the beer bottle to my lips. “Where’s Cherry?” I question, keeping my eyes on the TV.
“Dunno. She’s not at the house, and I can’t get a hold of her. Seems to be a trend with her since I got out of the joint,” he grumbles, running his hands through his hair. I bite my lip, wondering if I should bring up her wanting me to go to that shitty trailer park. I think better of it and decide not to. I don’t know if Cherry is cheating, or what is going on, but I know I don’t want to be in the middle of it.
My phone vibrates, catching my attention. Reading the name on the screen has my eyes widening.
Cora.
I haven’t heard from her in years. She only calls when she needs me to boost a car. My tongue darts and licks along my bottom lip at the thought of a little action, making me answer it.
“Cora,” I greet casually.
“Bobby, baby, how are you?” Cora answers, her voice holding a sense of authority and class. Which is exactly what she is; she’s just an educated, classy outlaw.
I met Cora when I was around sixteen. I saw a Corvette sitting in an empty parking lot, located right next to some docks, and decided to take it for a joy ride. Twenty minutes later, Cora, her father, and their men pulled me from the car violently. Apparently, they had just stolen the car and were in the process of loading it on a shipping container before I took it. She was impressed with how I hotwired the car, no damage to the ignition. She threw me a wad of cash and became my mentor for years.
“Good, what’s up?” I ask, getting to the point.
“I need you for a boost. You’re the only one I trust for the job,” she breathes into the phone.
“When do you need it by?”
“Tonight,” she clips quickly. I sigh. This is why she is calling me. She needs someone quick, and efficient. That would be me. I can boost a car and get it where it needs to be without a scratch and in a blink of an eye. Been practicing since I was a kid.
“Text me the details of the car’s location and all,” I request, taking a sip of my beer.
“The location is wherever you can find me a black Lamborghini,” she informs, her tone giving off a hint of sass.
“A motherfucking Lambo?” I shriek, wondering if I heard her right.