RECRUITED: A Mike Humber Novella (Demon Series Book One) (8 page)

I smile with the pleasure only a drunk mind can feel from a sudden forming idea, leaning forward I whisper close, ‘make it a good one.’

‘Good one what?’ she snaps.

‘Memorable.’ I shrug.

‘Huh?’

‘Huh?’ I mimic her with a sneer. ‘Hit me again.’

‘What?’

‘Hit me again,’ I slur with a leering grin.

‘Mike, stop this.’

‘What’s up? You like the suffering of others so hit me again.’

‘No, stop it.’

I glare at her. ‘Hit me again you fucking idiot.’ She flinches as though to hit me but holds it back and just glares, ‘don’t,’ she whispers angrily.

‘Pah!’ I wave a desultory hand at her, ‘you,’ I announce loudly, ‘are just like every other fucking twat in my life.’

‘Stop this.’ She drops her head in embarrassment.

‘Always fucking going on and on.’ My speech is slurred and bordering on aggressive, ‘oi mate,’ I call down the bar to the barman, ‘is she a hooker?’

‘Mike!’

‘What?’ He looks at me without expression.

‘Hooker mate, is she a hooker?’

‘Maybe,’ he shrugs. The woman turns to stare at us both, a hard eyed girl in her early twenties plastered in garish makeup.

‘Can we get a hooker?’ I turn to Elizabeth.

‘Are you serious?’ she blurts in shock.

‘What?’ I shrug casually, ‘what’s the issue, we’ll both fuck her…’ the slap is harder, the sting deeper and I can’t help but almost smile. ‘Is that a no then?’ I slur and sway on the stool.

‘You’re disgusting,’ she snaps, ‘completely disgusting.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I paw at her arm, ‘don’t be cross, I just wanted a hooker.’

‘We’re going. Right now,’ she stands up quickly, ‘I mean right now,’ she glares at me.

‘Uh ho,’ I chuckle at the barman, one man to another, ‘I’m in the shit now.’ He doesn't say anything but just watches carefully. ‘Are you here for a bit?’ I ask the girl, ‘I’ll try and talk her…’ I hiccup and sway again, ‘talk her round,’ I add with a nod at them both then feel a firm grasp on my arm as I get dragged from the bar. ‘Wait!’ I break free and grab the bottle of Vodka which I clutch to my breast like an infant child, ‘s’mine,’ I stare accusingly at the barman, ‘paid for it,’ I add matter of fact. I get led away again but motion towards the hooker as I go. Waving my hand between us to signal we’ll hook up again later then I make a hole between my thumb and forefinger on one hand while poking another finger through it and grinning like an idiot.

Nails dig into my arm with vicious strength and we leave the bar, stripping and staggering through the double doors and into the lobby. ‘There’s a fit hooker in there,’ I call out to the woman. ‘My wife and I are gonna play with her later.’

‘Stop it!’

The woman shows no reaction and like the barman, she just watches us carefully. There’s a fine line in running a place like this which appeals to the lower dregs of society. There will be violence, threats, damage and worse. They don’t want the police here so they tolerate what they can and show no reaction, hoping to hell the violence happens to someone else.

I get dragged up the stairs and try for another swig of the vodka before it’s pulled roughly from my hands. ‘You’ve had enough,’ she snaps, ‘never in my life have I been so…so…’

‘Worked though,’ I muse quietly and earn a very sharp look in the process. ‘They’ll remember us.’

Realisation dawns on her face but mixed with a big dollop of suspicion. ‘Are you drunk or not?’

‘Pissed off my fucking face,’ I grin, ‘but not fucking so stupid that I can’t do my fucking job when I have to fucking…er…do it?’

We get to the room and she works the key, pushes the door open and stands to one side as I crash through and aim a leap at the bed, but somebody moves it and I miss, landing with a heavy crash on the floor instead. ‘The bed moved,’ I wail, ‘someone in here.’

‘There’s no one in here,’ she shoes the door shut and presses the latch down on the lock. ‘Get up, Mike,’ she sighs heavily.

‘Can’t,’ I slur, ‘think I’m stuck.’

‘I’m going for a wee. Please don’t listen.’

‘Huh? How’s that then?’ I roll over onto my back. ‘How does someone not listen?’

‘Whistle or something,’ she says from the bathroom.

I purse my lips to form a whistle but don’t quite manage it properly and blow a raspberry instead. ‘S’hard you know.’

‘What is?’

‘Whistling!’ I say as though it should be obvious. ‘Are you going now?’

‘No, I can’t.’

‘How about now?’

‘Stop asking me!’

‘Turn the tap on.’

The tap turns on which causes a cacophony of sound from pipes banging and clanging but somewhere in the middle of the plumbing symphony I hear the unmistakable sound of wee hitting the water in the pan. I burst out laughing and descend into a fit of giggles. ‘I can hear you.’

‘Grow up.’

‘Haha, I can hear you doing a wee wee.’

‘Jesus wept. I’ve finished.’ Her voice is closer so I crane my head up to see her standing in the doorway of the bathroom with the light bright behind her. Long hair cascades down her shoulders and the top button of her jeans is undone revealing the top of a something white and mysterious. I blink heavily at her curves and drop my head with a big sigh.

‘Cat got your tongue?’ She asks icily.

‘Sommit like that.’

‘Come on,’ she steps closer and bends down, ‘get up. You need a shower.’

‘Do I?’

‘Yes, Mike.’

I sniff my armpits in turn, ‘nah, I’m alright.’

‘Take a shower.’

‘You take the shower,’ I giggle.

‘You first,’ she grabs my arm and starts pulling me up.

‘I know!’ I stare at her.

‘No.’

‘Eh? You don’t know what I’m gonna say yet.’

‘Yes I do, you’re going to say why don’t we shower together and save water.’

‘Wow,’ I stare mystified at her mind reading abilities, ‘it would have been a joke,’ I mutter quickly, ‘I didn’t mean it.’

‘Okay.’

‘Seriously,’ I get to my feet and shake my head, ‘you’re very gorgeous but like…’ I shrug, ‘I’m a mess. I won’t do anything.’ Something in my tone softens her.

‘Okay,’ she smiles gently, ‘come on,’ she motions to the shower.

‘I’m alright.’ I walk with a sway into the bathroom and plonk down on the toilet while she turns the nozzle to get the shower warmed up.

‘Need a hand?’ She looks down to see me struggling with my boots.

‘Nah,’ I clumsily untie my laces and tug the boots off. Then my socks and finally I grip the bottom of my t shirt and pull it up over my head.

‘Jesus,’ she whispers.

‘What?’ I glance up to see her eyes locked on my torso. Shame floods through me and I drop my head and swallow. I know what she’s looking at and I feel disgusted by it. Every muscle in my upper body is visible. Striations across my chest and shoulders, stomach muscles that poke out from the skin. I look like a freak. Not like a model or some Adonis ready to adorn the cover of a fitness magazine but a freak. It doesn't suit me, I know that. The bearded haggard look and my messy hair. It’s the disparity that shocks her. Hours in the gym pushing my body to the extent it hurts more than anything I can imagine but that pain doesn't ever match the loathing I have for myself. So I push harder. I run faster. I lift and sweat and curse my feeble body for not giving me enough energy to keep going.

I feel dirty and weird. A freak that shouldn’t be here. This dingy room. This dingy place. I’ve killed tonight and my thoughts quickly roll back a couple of hours to the face of De Smet as he first choked out then drowned from the bleach. Then my mind goes back further to the face of the girl as De Smet, Williams and the other one tortured her tiny body again and again. My mind keeps going back, to every bad deed I have ever done. To the deaths I gave out, to the suffering. I think back to when John Williams taunted me in that fucking place surrounded by cameras and I remember how I beat him senseless and stood over his battered body when the first marked police vehicle turned up. At the looks of shock on their faces. At the ambulance that came to give him aid. At being arrested, locked up and interviewed.

Tears drip from my ears to fall into my beard but I don’t sob and nor do I give voice to the sobs trying to tear me apart. I lock them down but the one thing I can’t control are the tears and they fall again and again.

‘Mike,’ a hand reaches out to gently touch me on the arm. She wants to comfort me, to give me peace but I am undeserving. Without looking at her I unbuckle my jeans and push them off. She stays where she is, unsure whether to leave me in peace or stay close. The tears stream faster and harder but I refuse to weep audibly. I clench my teeth and swallow the sobs as I turn round, push my boxers off and step into the shower. I don’t care if she sees me naked. I am nothing. Worthless and pitiful.

I hold my head under the flow and let the hot water scald my skin. It burns and I fight the urge to decrease the temperature.

‘Mike.’ She reaches past me to twist the shower valve. ‘You’ll scald.’ The sense of her body leaves but comes back within a few seconds. ‘Here,’ she holds a tube of shower gel out. I take it and start scrubbing, still with my back to her but the fucking tears won’t stop. They’ll never stop. The pressure inside builds to a point I think I’ll die. I want to die. I don’t want to be here anymore. I’m frightened. Terrified of what I can do.

‘Let me,’ she reaches past to take the shower gel from my hand. Her hands touch my back, soft at first as they rub the foamy bubbles into my skin. She goes slow and steady, gradually increasing the pressure with a massage to my shoulders and neck. She moves closer and only then do I realise she’s naked as I feel the press of her body against mine.

I know she’s getting off on the fact I killed someone. I saw that in her face in the bar. She wants the lure of being with a monster. A dangerous man that kills then weeps. A haggard man unkempt and abusive yet one who feels the sorrow of a life ruined.

Fuck it. I don’t deserve the comfort but right now I’ll take anything I can to ease this pain so I turn round and stare into her blue eyes. The motion startles her, like she was safe being behind me. I feel myself start to harden but I refuse to look away from her eyes. She steps closer and glides her wet body over mine. Physically perfect and mind numbingly attractive. She takes my hands and guides them to her breasts. Firm and yielding. The nipples stand on end to push into my palms. She groans and moves in to kiss me but I tilt my head away. She looks puzzled for a second but then a challenged, almost competitive look flushes over her face. Her hands drop to my cock. She starts stroking which makes me stiffen with an almost painful hardness. She watches me suggestively, leeringly, like I’m a pet to be toyed with. She strokes harder then grabbing my cock with a tight grip she pulls me from the shower and into the bedroom. She walks backwards, guiding me as she falls back and pulls me down on top. Her legs already open and ready. She shuffles up higher and still we stare into the other’s eyes. No kissing. No tenderness. She is warmth and beauty but colder than ice on the inside.

She guides me inside and gasps a tiny exhalation of air when I push deep. My face flushes with lust. She arches her back while reaching up to grab my backside and pull it in harder. Her breasts fall naturally to the sides and as she spots me looking, so her hands reach up and pull my head down to her nipples. I start to kiss them softly but she pulls my head harder. I suck but she pulls harder still. When I give little bites she groans instantly and lifts her groin into mine.

I go harder. She groans louder. I start thrusting deep and powerful and her hands snake over my arms, shoulders and down my stomach. I bite her nipples and she pushes into me.

Then I stop thrusting and move my head up from her breasts to the base of her neck. She goes still as though confused. I kiss gently and move slowly. She grips my backside, urging me start thrusting again but I’m a stubborn bastard and even though I know I’m kissing an empty vessel, I close my eyes and imagine it’s someone who loves me.

The change is instant and my hands now move gently over her body. I kiss and savour the taste and feel of her skin. The shape of her shoulders, defined and slim. The tops of her arms so soft and warm. The sides of her waist and up to the swell of her breasts. I imagine this woman loves and cares for me. I imagine none of the fucked up parts of my life ever happened. I imagine we’re in our home, a place full of light and laughter. I imagine everything that isn’t dark and twisted. My eyes stay closed and I imagine Tessa.

The fucking becomes tender. It becomes a thing of beauty instead of carnal pleasure. We kiss. Soft and teasing at first but deeper as time goes by. Tongues that flicker at each other, teeth that nibble gently at lips. We breathe into each other’s ears and stroke each other’s skin with the tips of our fingers. She comes. Soft but powerful. Her body pulses with pleasure as she wraps her arms round my neck and pulls me down for a long slow kiss. I can’t hold back and feel my own pulsing orgasm flood my body and the kiss just makes it that more tender.

The best thing. The most amazing thing is that we stay locked together. Still inside her, still kissing, still holding.