Black and Blue (Chubby Chasers, Inc. Series Book 3) Read online

  I find that majestic sky again, but now there’s something there. I try to see what that offending invader is in my calming blue sky, where no cloud should be. I can just make it out.

  Wait…and there it is. A row of clouds.

  No, not clouds, it’s skywriting. What does it say? I try harder to read it. Straining my mind’s eye to see it.

  IF.

  My controlled breathing goes out the window.

  There’s more. It marches across my sky of peace on a ticker tape.

  As I see it, I hear it.

  IF, IF, IF, IF!

  “Go away, IF!”

  I bury it, way in the back, along with all the other Negative Nellys, hoping I’ve squashed it before it really gets going. Maybe it will have a snack, a huge drink, and then go to sleep with the others. I don’t even care if it pees the bed, as long as it stays asleep.

  It keeps trying to wriggle its way back. Doesn’t like my subconscious, wants front row seats. I realize IF HE COMES BACK has been throbbing to the beat of my pulse this whole time.

  I sniff. “He’ll be back for me. His wife.” It sounds like a filthy lie.

  “He’s just punishing me. Maybe it was the panties. He told me to get undressed, and I just had to be stubborn, just had to leave them on. Maybe that was it.”

  Yeah, that was it. Forgotten panties = forgotten bride. Happens all the time.

  What was all that, anyway? My stretches are forgotten as I remember my husband from the night before. It was like being naked in front of a stranger. Stumbling in off of the street, like he was the Yeti Man, intent on overdosing me with food. A masher intent on my destruction. Death by dinner. Hard eyes that glinted with malice. My body shakes as I remember the wickedness that lived within his eyes. I’d never seen that side of him. Full of anger…was that…hate?

  And the things he said. That this was how it was supposed to be from the beginning? I was supposed to be his, to do with as he wished.

  Said who? Were Gretchen and Sasha in on it the whole time? And did they know that I was the ultimate sacrifice? Trussed up like a deer, ready to be gutted?

  No. I shake my head, feeling a little anger of my own. Anger’s good, doesn’t require tears. So I welcome it, and the shaking stops.

  There is no way in all of Narnia that those two bitches are that good of actresses. Sasha mayyyybe, but even that’s a stretch. Then I think of straight-laced, keep-your-negativity-to-yourself Gretchen? Really?

  There’s no way either one of them could’ve pulled this off.

  Which leads me to believe it was only the plan in his head. Never fully alive outside of his imagination. Well, thank God for roofies or I’d be dead already.

  My inner Blue balks at the idea, and I try to reason with her. “He didn’t know me back then, didn’t love me. Now that he does, I know it, I’ve seen it shining in his eyes. He’ll be back.” My tone is pert, petulant. I don’t like it, this bickering with myself.

  Something was shining in his eyes. Madness!

  No, it was love, and now that he knows me, he’ll be back. There’s no way he’d miss out on seconds.

  And if he did? Come back?

  I’m a sitting duck. Not a damn thing I could do but swallow.

  Just a baby bird, gullet wide open, waiting for the big bad bird to come and cram more in.

  Even if the Wonder Twins are intent on helping with his feeder fantasies, going as far as keeping his rotund mother in the basement, they’d stop short at murder, right?

  Neither would look good in a blazing orange jumpsuit. Too top-heavy.

  The joke attempt depresses me even further. This is what happens when you leap before you look. I knew it. I had a feeling, but I chose to ignore it. Go with the flow like usual. Not wanting to rock the boat, I jumped in and got married to the bastard.

  When Javi comes back and lets me up, I’m going to need Ted’s services. If he does divorces, he’s my guy.

  Please come back!

  Maybe I’ll find my own lawyer. It might not even be a divorce. We never consummated the marriage. Just an annulment.

  That’s settled. Unless he comes back and rapes me, annulment it is.

  Even this threat doesn’t stop me from hoping that he’ll be back. My jailer has become my savior.

  My body’s shaking again. It needs sugar.

  Ravage away, as long as you release my shackles.

  “You bitchbastardflanfucker!” It feels good to yell, let it go. So I do it again.

  Then get back to wishing. For ice water, lemonade, Slurpee’s, Starbucks. Trying to block my feelings out.

  I don’t want to admit it, but there’s a slight possibility I’m more like my mother than I thought. Jumping in, assuming the persona that Javi wanted me to have. Chameleon blood flows in my veins.

  I feel the tears threatening again, but I won’t let them fall. Not for Javi, my situation, nothing in this fucked up mess deserves a single one of my tears. I will leak no more fluid for that bastard. I just have to wait.

  Conserve my energy. Try not to burn off the massive calories from the feeding, and certainly not waste any of my body’s precious water shedding tears for my situation. No matter how fucked up it is.

  But they come, the tears. Quiet yet knowing, they roll down my cheeks. My only company in a world where I lie forgotten, dying of thirst and loneliness.

  I’m the guest of honor at this Poor Me show. Fuck it, I think, and I’m off to the races, going for the gold.

  It’s only when I realize I’m dry-crying do I turn and try to catch one of the last tears. With my cheek on the mattress, I try, moving my other cheek, stretching my tongue out.

  It consumes me. This tear.

  A salty morsel that will dampen my bloated tongue. I play a macabre game of catch the tear, and lose. My ear canal wins.

  That’s it. I’m wrung out, bottomed out.

  Good grief!

  When I turned, I saw it. My ball gag, stuck between my armpit and side-boob. The roll!

  And just like that I’m back on top.

  I breathe deep. A sob of happiness tries to escape, but I keep it in check. No sudden movements!

  I push my chin towards it, reaching with my mouth…and kiss it.

  “Thank you, Jesus, thank you!”

  Using my tongue and teeth takes work, but it’s so worth it.

  I earn a tiny piece, which I tuck into my dry cheek. Wish I had a few tears to dip it in.

  Using whatever spit reserves I have left to moisten it with.

  Before it goes down, scratching the raw sides of my throat, but it’s in.

  Triumphant, I yell. “I’ve got the bread…now where’s my fucking water!”

  I turn to the glass on the table next to the bed. It might as well still be in the tap.

  And my victory is forgotten.

  Even the bird gave up on me. Off TCFB while I’m lazing the day away in here.

  I stare vacantly out the window, ignoring my body’s screeching demands.

  The sunset is glorious, but I can’t enjoy it.

  It’s part of the outside world. The one I’m excluded from.

  I’m forgotten, a discarded trinket.

  I’m going to die soon.

  For the first time in my life, that thought doesn’t scare me into action, but instead wraps me in a warm blanket of calm. It’s there and gone, but I felt it. Tranquility.

  As the first star twinkles in the charcoal sky, I marvel at finding an ounce of peace in this situation.

  Even the vice grip on my neck, the occasional white-hot shooting embers down my back, feel like they belong to some other girl. Not me, I’m too tranquil.

  A poor sucker who let her new husband/stranger tie her to a bed, left alone to die. Wasn’t me, I’m too centered.

  It wasn’t enough to stop me in my tracks when he roofied me, fucked flan in front of me, was locked away in a mental hospital, no not enough for me. I needed more proof. I’m stubborn like that.

  I needed tangible ev
idence that he was certifiable, is certifiable. Only tied to a mattress in a remote location, left to die a solitary painful death, the facts shoved down my throat, literally! That’s when I say, hmmm, maybe a tad too crazy for me.

  Yep, I’m my mother’s daughter. Compliant and constantly changing to suit the man of the hour. Too bad this last suit is my death shroud.

  Not me. This can’t be happening to me. But I believe it less and less as the painful reality settles in.

  I’m never gonna get up off of this bed, am I?

  Gretchen

  When my phone pings, I expect Sasha, maybe checking in for another update.

  Or Tony, with his nightly sleep tight.

  I look down and freeze.

  Javi.

  I blow out a shaky breath. I was right. Blue wasn’t special, no different.

  “Game on, Javier.”

  I text Sasha, feeling like a traitor.

  Just got a text from Javi. Everything’s fine. They’re having so much fun! False alarm. Service is super spotty where they are. Blue says hi! Have a great time. Give Riley my love.

  But I don’t forward his text. I never do. I’d like to keep her in the dark as much as possible. Plausible deniability. Besides, if Sasha saw this, she’d be uncontrollable. She thinks it’s all a game, that there’s no real danger. She’s never had to clean up after him. I read the text again.

  I’m tired of playing with this one. Clean up for me, would you?

  I don’t want Sasha’s night to be ruined, too.

  I forward it to Tony and get myself a drink. I add ice to a tumbler, and before I even get the top off of the whiskey bottle, he texts back. Always one step behind.

  Got him. Outside of Vegas.

  I don’t want to believe it. When Javi brought her, dress bag in hand, and announced the engagement, I couldn’t.

  I’d asked him, dammit, and he swore that this time would be different. That she was different. He said, “I know this one loves me.”

  I’d cried with happiness. Finally, he found the right one. It was over.

  So, why did he do it? If he found someone who would put up with him, why? I thought that was what he’d been looking for this whole time.

  How did it go from there to the beginning of the end?

  His endings…our cue to say goodbye.

  Usually a tearful sendoff with hugs, kisses. All genuine. They have to be.

  It’s the last time they see us as their friends.

  The next time his victim sees me, it’s under a very different set of circumstances.

  It will be with a nondisclosure agreement and a suitcase of money. Pay for services rendered. Twelve damn times in ten years. Not one got all the way to the altar. Not a one of them.

  Hope blossoms in my chest. Outside of Vegas? Maybe Blue did.

  I text Tony, asking him to search Clark County records for a marriage certificate. Please, let there be one.

  No weddings yet. The feeding alone enough to have them running for the hills. Except the last. The one before Blue.

  She couldn’t run. Couldn’t even crawl. Cringing, I remember ‘12.’

  Everyone knew she was leaving to get married. She practically rubbed it in our faces. My face. Especially when Hari brought her white dress and jacket. Nothing special, it’s the same one they all get. Yep, she shoved that shit down my throat like it was an original, like she was an original.

  I didn’t have the heart to say goodbye.

  Not with that attitude. In fact, when the spur of the moment engagement announcement was sprung on us, I was glad. I barely waved. Never said a word.

  That one, instead of playing girlfriend and fiancée, was trying to wear the pants. Always whispering in his ear, telling him to watch me? Sasha? That we were backstabbers? Liars? Gold-diggers?

  Yeah, she was having a regular old love affair with the idea of being me. Taking my job. She’d been around the block wayyyy too many times. Thought she’d slide in and take over as lady of the manor. Conniving, too forward with him, I wasn’t the least bit surprised to find out she was missing. With Javi.

  I took my time with that one. Didn’t even need to involve Tony to find her. Javi waited the appropriate amount of time, i.e., when he was done “playing,” and texted me the address.

  I just didn’t divulge that information for a while. A little deserved punishment for thinking she was already his wife and not the hired help.

  Let her get a true taste of Javier. See crazy in action. Then see if she really wanted my place. Let her see all the shit I do that’s not listed in the job description. The seat at the head of this table comes with a seatbelt and a tetanus shot.

  I took the night to sleep on it. Not my finest hour, but she only had herself to blame.

  We almost lost her.

  Then paid her a lot of money to get lost. The highest-paid marionette.

  A hundred thousand dollars, but that wasn’t the worst of it. When she wouldn’t shut up about the whole thing, Tony had to step in.

  I got out of there fast. Tony and I should never be in the same room, so I waited outside.

  And not a peep from her since. No more threatening phone calls with talk about police, lawyers, for goodness sakes, suing us.

  Whatever he said, it worked. Nothing too bad, I’m sure. Just the usual speech.

  Stay away and don’t ever come back. If we hear that you’ve talked—especially to the media—we’ll return you to Javi.

  Enough of a threat to get them to hightail it out of our lives.

  That wasn’t even six months ago! The space between ‘12’ and Blue too short. Yet the ruse he came up with for Blue? More elaborate than any of the others. When does he sleep?

  Some of it’s my fault. Letting him pick the girl. Not the way this is supposed to work. He knows that. I know that.

  That’s where we blundered. See, he spotted her first. Sara, with no H.

  We didn’t get a chance to prepare her. Move her in and clue her in.

  Roofiegate and away he went.

  Locked up nice and tight.

  The mom in the basement? Surprisingly, Blue was more curious than horrified. Wanted details, information, but still stayed with the crazy fucker. Made me think her outer shell was tougher than it first appeared.

  Then the whole you can’t have him, so you want him more possessed her, and Blue actually worked against us and got him released. What was that fuckery?

  Oh, he’s mental. There’s no doubt about that.

  That’s when Blue started to vex me.

  Throwing wrenches left and right, ruining a good plan.

  She’d gotten everything. The apartment, the money, the wardrobe, therapy? Take it and run.

  Walk away already. But she had to have her cake and eat it too.

  Instead she went and passed his damn test. With flying gingham colors.

  Blue was the only one to come back after everything and spring him. Which had to have counted for something. He must have married her.

  In his eyes, that made her deserving of the piece of paper, the title. But not the man, as his text shows. Poor Blue.

  Dammit! I even thought she was the one. His real girl.

  At this very moment, she could be married to him.

  If I can keep the damage to a minimum, maybe she’ll be willing to talk. Or at least be willing to listen.

  She was the first nice girl. Was supposed to take the hint when I got him to check himself in.

  Never mind all that now. I’m not blaming her. I’m just saying, if it were me, the psych hospital would have been the starter pistol, but then I’ve cruised my share of blocks, too.

  This is Blue’s first stroll.

  Anxiety starts to creep in. She’s a tough nut to crack. Maybe she needs a tour around Javi-ville. Her and her bad case of can’t have hims. Just a few days.

  Tony texts back.

  Yep, it’s there. He married her.

  When I lay my head on the pillow, all I see are blue, distrustful ey
es glaring back at me.

  Sasha

  “Riley, are we gonna go through this, every single time you get naked? If that’s the case, mister, you’ve got some serious body issues to work out.” Frustrated, I shake my head and puff at an errant curl. It keeps tickling my damn nose. I huff out a breath and use my upper lip to scratch the itch. No dice. Every time I take in a breath, I taste Head & Shoulders.

  Whatever, I’m flake-free.

  Feeling like a cheater, I use my hand to brush the stray hair off of my face, but I’m super careful not to disturb the blindfold.

  It’s hard to hear him. The patio doors are open, and all I can hear is the waterfall. If I focus all of my energy on my ears, I can hear the pitter pat of Riley’s feet! Hustling around the room, prepping for our best night ever. His words, not mine. He’s got big plans, best night ever and all. A time to relax via awesome sex. It’s Sasha-time. Wish I had a beer to toast with, it’s that great.

  I feel bad for Blue.

  Gretchen’s got her posse on the hunt for the newlyweds.

  I’m sure they’ll be found, covered in sticky stuff with a cherry on top, in some dessert cup of a bed. I know Gretchen wants control at all times and would’ve sat by the bedside coaching him, Faster! Harder! For Pete’s sake. That’s why I didn’t let her know about the phone call the very second it happened. Exerting my independence. Stretching my wings. She needs to know that my duties at the CC house are going to be drastically cut.

  Javi and Blue are fine, but Javi’s going to be pissed when he gets home.

  And I don’t want to play the game anymore. It gives me the creeps.

  I shiver at the whole thought of it.

  I mean, is he working up to serial killer? What’s the whole doll thing, and why does he seem to be playing it more and more?

  Gretchen’s going to have to work all that shit out. I’m thinking of branching out, anyway. Figured I’ve repaid her back with interest.

  She pissed me off. When I went in to tell her that Javi and Blue were there, why was she watching my Riley sessions? Right up on the screen, I saw it. Research? I doubt it. Something’s up with that one, and if she’s overreacting because her little Javi chick is flying the coop and starting a Gretchen-free life, maybe my pull away is giving her fits as well.