Page 43

Dallas

“Que vamos hacer manana después del desayuno?” Alex asks, gazing down at me while the ceiling fan spins above his head.

I think for a few seconds. “Vamos a la playa…a nadar, primo…”

There’s pause, and all I can hear is the crash of the waves drifting in from the dark veranda.

Alex knits his brow. “Did you just call me your cousin?”

Oh, shit…

I shake my head. “A nadar…uh…”

The skeptical look in his eye makes my heart beat faster. I lick my lips and rack my brain, trying to remember the right word, but it’s too late.

Alex gives a slight turn of his wrist and I let out a gasp, followed by a series of high-pitched whimpers as the liquid wax hits my nipple, sending a searing pain radiating across my chest. I squeeze my eyes shut, digging my nails into his back as my fingers curl and I clench his waist between my thighs.

He lets out a groan, rolling his hips and thrusting his cock deeper inside me. I try to slow my breathing, but the mixture of pain and pleasure is overwhelming.

“You like that pain, Mama? I love the way that pussy strangles me.” Alex smiles down at me. “Try again.”

But I can’t concentrate and the threat of more pain is turning my brain into a jumbled mess. Why can’t I remember this word? It’s so easy.

“Vamos a la playa. A nadar…”

I think if I say it again, the right word will roll out, but nothing comes. Alex studies my face, waiting to see whether I’ll finally remember. But I hesitate too long. He tilts the white candle and wax streams out onto my other nipple.

Arching my back, I let out another shriek as the wax hits my skin and runs over my chest like translucent veins. My body goes rigid, prompting him to thrust again, slow and deep. I swallow hard, dragging my nails down his shoulder blades. My eyes roll and I barely hear him set the candle down on the side table.

Alex leans down. “Primero,” he whispers in my ear.

I let out an exasperated breath, frustrated with my memory lapse.

He slings my leg over his shoulder. “Say it again.”

“Vamos…” I creak out as he thrusts faster, “a…a la playa…” he hits my g-spot, making my jaw drop, “a la playa primero!”

I clench the sheets in my fists as the wave crests, and at the last second, he reaches down and starts vibrating his index and middle finger over my clit. With a desperate cry, I convulse beneath him, bursting from the inside out as every nerve in my body fires at once.

Sounds mute as the blood rushes to my head and it feels like I’m moving in slow motion. Alex lets my leg fall from his shoulder and grabs my waist. My heart pounds and each pulse he delivers feels like a jolt of electricity. Gradually, his movements slow and his body settles onto me like a warm blanket.

He lifts my chin to meet his eyes. “Now, I promise you’ll never forget it.”

He’s right. I’ll never forget that word— primero —ever again.

Alex es mí primero.

Alex is my first.

Alex va ser mí ultímo.

And Alex will be my last.

●●●

“You hunt, right?” I ask as I execute the perfect head shot.

“Yeah,” Bowen replies, “about the only thing you can hunt right now is coyotes, though.”

That didn’t stop you before…

“Where do you go?”

“My property’s pretty big, and it’s also attached to my parents’ and sister’s.”

“Anywhere else?” I press, just to see where it’ll go.

“I used to hunt on my best friend, Jay’s, property. His parents have 20 acres, all wooded. We had a lot of fun out there.”

It feels like there’s much more behind his words than he’s letting on. Or maybe he’s just alluding to torturing small animals, I’m not quite sure. But, in any event, I’m not going to let it affect me.

I can’t.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to ask the questions I need answers to without being completely obvious, but it takes time—time I don’t want to fucking waste. And Bowen’s not stupid. Narcissistic, maybe, but there’s a reason he only throws me enough bones to stay hungry. He likes the attention, especially from a guy who’s a better gamer than he is.

I finally log off, disconnecting from my imaginary world where I can play video games with Bowen Garrison like he didn’t murder my sister six years ago. I have to disassociate for these small spans of time because the bigger game is more important. The day he either gets life without parole or dies is the most important. But I have to leave it in the ether for the time being, because I have a commitment tonight.

The Fandora’s Box logo fills the browser window with the clock in the corner counting down to 10:00 PM EST. I start making the rounds, turning on the neon purple lights strategically placed throughout the room that transform the charcoal grey walls into an ultraviolet cave. I hear Alex’s footsteps in the hallway as I move to the cameras affixed to the head of the bed, in each corner, and at different heights throughout the room to catch every angle imaginable.

Scroll down to find your favorite feed.

Alex shuts the door and extends his hand, offering a square of exercise tape to me. I finish adjusting the camera on top of the monitor and take it from him.

“Do you think it's weird,” I ask, “that I like when you fuck me in front of strangers?”

“No.” He grins as I peel the tape off its backing and position it over his tattoo. “Do you think it's weird that I like fucking you in front of strangers?”

“No.” I return the smile. “There’s something exciting about it, but only because no one knows who we are. Why do you do it?”

“Because I’m arrogant and self-absorbed.”

I let out a snort. “ You are neither arrogant nor self-absorbed.”

“You only say that because you’re the only person on this earth I’ll do anything for, without question.”

I lock onto his eyes as I smooth the tape over his pec. “Even before my brother?”

I shouldn’t ask him that. It’s not a fair question.

“Yes,” he answers without skipping a beat.

A wave of adrenaline rushes through my belly, just like every other time he says something like this. Maybe it’s a product of living in Colson’s daunting shadow, but I’m still not used to sitting on anyone’s pedestal above him.

“It doesn’t matter how good something looks,” Alex continues, “because in the end, watching only gets you so far. They don’t get to feel what I feel. They can only imagine it. They only wish they could experience it.” He gives a sharp nod to the bed. “Now lay down.”

Heat blooms across my cheeks as I pull my shirt and bra up over my head and toss it into the corner. Viewers on six continents have seen a full spread of my pussy and Alex Barrera is still the only one who can make me blush.

I crawl up the bed to the pile of pillows against the tufted headboard. It’s funny how Alex is the one with tape over his chest now instead of me. Now, I only wear a mask. Alex tosses a controller at my feet along with my white balaclava. I slide it over my face, pulling my black ponytail through the hole at the top, and settle back as he signs in.

The usual banners begin to scroll; our names, the rules, the terms, and the most important part—the starting bids.

GhostW@ke: $1200 USD

SilentStorm: $2700 USD

I wait for the screen to change to see who the lucky victim is tonight. There are already 3,200 users logged in to view the match. There’s a base fee to enter the lobby and the more you pay, the more camera feeds you unlock. But if you want a chance at the big money, you bet on the players— us.

It’s always Call of Duty. And it’s always three matches. Each time, Alex or I play a spectator who qualifies with a consistent bidding record. But, as Alex says, alliances are fluid. You can switch sides at any time by placing a bet for the other player. The higher the bids, the more money the spectators win, unless you’re caught on the wrong side by the end when the featured player either wins or loses.

But winning is nuanced, it’s not just about ending up with the highest score at the end of three matches. If Alex is playing, he has to beat the spectator opponent…before I make him come. And vice versa. It’s not enough to just be good at the game; it’s mind over matter.

I don’t know shit about online betting, but what I do know is that Alex trusts Thatcher and we always end the night with a staggering amount of cash. The opponent can pay extra to speak over the mic, which usually results in them cussing one of us out before taking a shot to the head for their rudeness. And if we choose, spectators can also pay to stay logged in and submit requests…for a price. So far, we’ve never turned anyone down.

As soon as I start casting to the 82-inch TV screen mounted above the computer monitors, a new handle pops up next to mine.

“I’ve seen this guy before,” I say. “He’s pretty good.”

Some people think their money translates to skill, and they usually get destroyed, but I think this one will be more of a challenge. Alex peers at the screen as he pulls his black balaclava over his head.

EomersXspear.

Clever name.

“In that case, I guess you’re making me dinner tomorrow,” he smiles devilishly, “and you’re doing it naked.”

Since our winnings basically go into the same bank account, we have our own bets on the side. I hate cooking, and Alex knows it, so making him dinner is more for entertainment purposes than culinary enjoyment.

I shift my focus back to the screen as the countdown ends and the match kicks off. The column of camera frames come to life and the numbers beneath each of our names glow green. I concentrate on the game, quickly finding my groove, but my heartbeat spikes when I feel the mattress sink down at my legs.

Alex moves slowly, careful not to obstruct my view, and hooks his fingers in my underwear. He gently pulls them free and slides them down my legs, spreading my knees before he dips down between my thighs. He glances back at the camera feeds, adjusting his position and spreading one of my legs wider for a clear view.

As soon as his tongue touches my clit, I take a deep breath and try to maintain focus. I run through the map; stop, go, dodge, hide, shoot, rinse and repeat. But he’s taking his time, slowly tracing my pussy with his tongue, sucking my clit, and doing it all over again. And with each fidget of my body, the number beneath his name climbs. But I keep it together and make it to the end.

“Are you going easy tonight?” I taunt Alex. “Have you lost your nerve?” Then I look straight at the camera mounted on the monitor. “ Hey, Eomer! Is that all you got? ” I giggle with unbridled arrogance.

“Keep it up, Mama.” Alex looks at the camera and then back at me. “I’ll fuck the brat right out of you.”

I start the second match but do a double-take as Alex reaches into his pocket and lifts a small plastic square to his mouth. He takes the condom wrapper between his teeth and rips off the top.

“Why do you have that?” I ask.

“None of your concern,” he replies, reaching down the front of his shorts.

Probably so he can fuck my pussy after he fucks my ass. He’s considerate like that, after all.

“On your knees, pretty girl,” Alex instructs.

Slowly, I comply, keeping my eyes on the screen. When I’m still again, he kneels behind me and I catch something drop onto the bed. When glance down, I realize it’s a big pink cock. And it’s vibrating.

Shit.

A loud zip startles me. Alex picks up the vibrator and reaches down, holding it between my legs. My breath catches when it touches my clit and he starts wrapping strips of exercise tape around me. I don’t know how he does it; clearly some McGyver-esque Marine Corps shit. But whatever it is, by the end, he’s affixed the pink vibrator to my clit and the number under his name is rising steadily. Tonight is going to be much harder than I thought.

Alex grabs one of the pillows and throws it down in front of me. “On your stomach.”

As soon as I hit the pillow, dread washes over me. On reflex, my hips begin to roll back and forth. This would be a perfect position to play the game if the vibrations didn’t feel so good.

“You want something in your ass, too, baby?” Alex coos behind me.

“ Mmm… ” I moan, trying to stay focused.

Suddenly, I catch movement on the screen and take a shot, reducing Eomer to a bloody pile. I clench my teeth in a satisfied grimace. He’ll re-spawn, but it’s always about knocking them down a rung or two.

“Just uninstall,” I growl, “ pussy ass bitch. ”

The number beneath my name begins to climb again as the second match ends, but I don’t feel Alex’s hands yet. Instead, a cold, wet sensation hits the top of my ass and the numbers below his name jump while mine slow. Moments later, I feel the firm rubber tip of a silicone plug slide down, teasing my ass as he lubes me up. His number jumps even higher when he palms one of my cheeks and spreads me so the camera on the headboard shows him sliding it in.

“Some brat,” Alex sneers. “You’re going to be Daddy’s good girl now, aren’t you?“ he adds with a firm smack across my ass.

I grit my teeth, biting back so many things I’d say if it didn’t mean I’d blow our cover. I can barely concentrate as the third and final match begins. The vibration on my clit is torturous, amplified by the toy in my ass.

“You ready to come all over my dick now, sweetheart?” Alex booms so there’s no mistake everyone can hear. Then he looks straight at the camera ahead. “Y’all ready to get paid?”

They know what that means. It’s like a battle cry for them.

“Ask me to finish her.”

My stomach drops as the number under his name starts climbing rapidly. But then it immediately turns to excitement as he spreads my thighs and props my ass up. I feel him against me as he positions himself against me, throbbing and needing to be filled.

But he hesitates, and I let out a whimper, trying in vain to roll my hips against him.

“ You, ” he barks in the same unmistakable voice, sending me spiraling, “beg me for it.”

I let out a moan and tense my thighs, trying to stay focused. I try to block out everything in my periphery and concentrate. I’m almost to the end. I can do it.

Suddenly, I feel the pressure as the plug shifts slightly. Alex nudges the top with his thumb, angling it against my wall just as he thrusts his cock into my pussy. Then again, and again. My entire body goes rigid and I let out a groan as the sensation threatens to push me over the edge.

“Ask for it, baby,” he repeats, watching the number under his name rise again.

I’m almost to the end, but I can’t see straight and I can barely take it anymore. I’m going to get obliterated.

“Please,” I grit my teeth and let out a defeated growl, “please, finish me!” I grind out, taking the hit to my pride.

Alex’s number skyrockets as he starts pumping faster, keeping his thumb on the plug and drawing a long, loud moan out of me.

I always try to make up some fake reason to hate him. I try to disassociate just for the duration of the match so I can win, but it never works because he fucks like Poseidon unleashing a cyclone across the Bering Sea. Besides, you can never really pretend to hate someone you love more than anything else in existence.

“ Oh…fuck…faster! ” I shriek as I try to keep my eyes from going crossed.

He gives me what I want, especially because it’s ruining my chances at success by the millisecond. And the closer I get to the end, the faster he tries to beat me there. My body goes rigid as the orgasm consumes me, but I keep my eyes on the screen, trying to see through the barrage of stars as my eyelids flutter.

Five…four…three…two…

I drop the controller and collapse onto the pillow, giving in to the rapture of Alex’s harsh thrusts. But as soon as the wave of pleasure dissipates, I’m overwhelmed by the vibrator still buzzing between my legs.

“ Al—A…J… ” I gasp, nearly forgetting myself.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alex mutters, incredulous.

He stares at the screen for a moment before grabbing his phone off the side table. I rotate my head so I can get a better look and then realize what’s made him so irritated. As soon as I see it, an airy giggle escapes my throat.

I won.

Somehow, amid my screams and convulsions, I managed to make it to the end of the third match without dying and beat Eomer with the high score.

“You’re going to pay for that, Ry,” Alex glowers down at me.

“Do your worst, Ghostie! ” I taunt him.

Alex finishes tapping away at his phone and tosses it behind him. Then he rips the tape loose from my leg and makes quick work of removing the vibrator. I think we’re done, but then he flips me back over and jerks me up to my knees, pressing my back against his chest.

The screen is still live, but now there are far fewer spectators still logged on. He must’ve been texting Thatcher to add more time.

“This part is for you and me,” Alex whispers menacingly.

My eyes dart between the red dot on the camera and my mirror image on the screen. My heart beats faster as the numbers in the sidebar start climbing as people start dropping money on him…on me.

They’re not betting anymore. Now, they’re tipping, wanting to see more.

Alex runs his hand up my stomach and over my chest, giving my nipple piercing a flick as he goes. Then he squeezes my throat and tips my head up to meet his eyes.

“Open for me.”

I do what he says and open wide, my eyes rounding when I see his fist and what’s clenched in it.

Hovering over my mouth, he squeezes the condom and empties it into my mouth, letting his cum trickle down to the back of my throat. He gives it a shake and then leans in close as I swallow every drop.

“What’s your name, Mariposita? ” he murmurs too low for the mics to pick up.

“Dallas…” I whisper, swallowing again, “ Dallas…Barrera… ”

I’ll always play Alex’s games, and I might reach the finish line first, but in the end…

The house always wins.

The cameras go dark an hour later, after Alex exacts more revenge that I don’t even pretend to argue with.

“How the fuck did you do that back there—beat the Rider of Rohan?” he asks, still salty about my win.

“Just lucky I guess,” I grin as I stretch my arms over my head. “Sounded like a successful night.”

“I don’t want it going to your head,” he smirks, “but it was good enough that I’m taking you tomorrow to get that cute little Mazda you wanted.”

My eyes light up. I hope it’s still there; a custom black body with bright purple detailing and a tint job. It’s perfect.

Alex leans over and opens the side table drawer, returning a moment later. He slides his black band onto his finger and then takes my hand, sliding the amethyst ring and its matching band down mine. He never wastes time. It doesn’t matter that I’m sleeping next to him tonight, and every night after; as soon as the cameras turn off, the rings go back on. SilentStorm and GhostW@ke are gone, and we’re Dallas and Alex again.

Our name is Barrera again.

●●●

“If it’s too much trouble to drop them off,” my mom says as she shuts my car door, “I can do it before I go to my showing tomorrow.”

I’m only on campus a couple times a week since I’m ahead on credits, but I still feel like I’m responsible for this.

“No, it’s alright.” I glance at the three totes of folded clothes lining the backseat.

Evie’s clothes.

I found out the student crisis center on campus takes gently used clothes. Homelessness, domestic violence, sexual assault, unforeseen events…

Maybe Evie’s clothes can help someone else during the worst moments of their life. It’s funny, I walked past their posters on campus every day, but it never occurred to me that I should use their services myself. Maybe one day I will…after I reduce Bowen Garrison to a bloody carcass somewhere on a nameless patch of earth. I might not personally end his life, but I plan on being the one who makes the call.

And I feel like I’m close.

“Scott talked to the FBI last week.” Mom’s tone doesn’t sound hopeful. “Evie’s case has been reassigned— again. Maybe this time it’ll end up with someone who’ll bring a fresh perspective.”

“We already know who did it, Mom.”

For as long as it’s been the elephant in the room, I’ve never said it out loud to my parents. My mom only lets out a sigh, gazing at the last items left from Evie’s room.

“But I think it’ll happen,” I continue, “I don’t think Bowen will get away with it.”

“I hope not,” she says softly, acknowledging the suspicion that’s simmered for years.

I tug open the door of my new Mazda and I’m about to duck inside when my mom sets her hand on it, giving me pause.

“Dallas,” she says firmly, “I admit that I had no idea how to deal with something like this—Evie’s murder—and I still don’t, but it’s no excuse. You shouldn’t have had to find out the way you did,” she hesitates, almost painfully, “ alone. And I’m sorry. I am so sorry I wasn’t there when I should’ve been.”

“Yeah…” I look down at the concrete, knowing there’s not much left to say about it, “it really sucked. But I also realize that no one knew what to do. It’ll never be OK, but one day, it’ll be better.” I glance down at the canvas tote bag slung over my shoulder. “But you helped me with this, and that’s what’s important right now.”

“It wasn’t easy,” she smiles at my bag, “but that’s the point, isn’t it—taking something broken and making it whole again? It’s not the same, but it means something different now.”

We look at one another, contemplating the last six years of trying to piece broken parts back together. But, this time, I don’t mind the silence that lingers between us. She leans in, giving me a hug like she does every time I leave my childhood home.

“Oh!” I remember as I start the engine. “I found Sergei.”

“You found Sergei?” she echoes with amusement.

“Yes, so don’t worry about Colson.”

My mom knits her brow in confusion. “What does Sergei have to do with Colson?”

I shift into drive with a flash of my eyes. “He’s a polar bear bodyguard, too.”

I only catch my mom’s look of shock for an instant before I shoot down the driveway and onto the country road. I can’t stay, because I’m already late. I have somewhere else to be.

The glare from the sun hits my eyes as I take the on-ramp to the highway. I pass the exit I would normally take to go home and, instead, travel a few more miles to the south side of the city. I check my GPS, confirming that I’m at the right apartment complex before shutting off the engine and getting out of the car. I was nervous at first, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to be here. I’ve considered it dozens of times, but always decided against it, until now.

Heading up the stairs to the second floor, I come to a halt in front of #202. I take a deep breath and then give a sharp knock. While I’m waiting, I feel a buzz in my bag. It’s the burner phone.

BOWEN (6:27PM): The Wyandot has really good hunting, too.

A few seconds later, another comes through.

BOWEN (6:27PM): What happens in those woods stays in those woods. Except for the things that come home with me. But I’ve got my eye on something even better.

Oh, shit.

But I don’t have time to respond. The door opens and I come face to face with Luca.

“Wow, you made it,” he greets me with a once-over.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I ask, dropping the phone back in my bag.

“Just surprised,” he shrugs. “Alex keeps you on a tight leash. I didn’t think you’d ever come.”

“He only thinks he does,” I smirk.

Luca steps aside. “Lucky me.”

He’s not wrong. Initially, I blew him off in Tulum, convinced he was just messing with me because he’s Luca and that’s what he does. But he’s different now. He went to prison and somehow seems much less hardened than the first time I met him in Alex’s house six years ago. His buzzed hair has grown out into thick waves that cover his surgery scar and there’s a glimmer in his dark brown eyes that replaces the insidious shadow that hung over them before.

His place looks a lot like my old house on campus, except in a much nicer building. Only the necessities—a big flat screen, gaming consoles, speakers, and mismatched furniture. I think the chicest décor we had were our array of half-burned jar candles scattered all over the place.

Luca shuts the door behind me. “He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”

I glance over my shoulder with a shake of my head as I stroll over to the bookshelf, admiring a photo of Alex, Luca, and Adrian as children, sitting on the tailgate of a truck while their dad stands proudly next to them.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get to know you until now,” I lament.

“I wouldn’t have been very nice to you back then,” Luca chuckles.

“I guess it’s better late than never, huh?”

He stops just behind my shoulder. “Why’d you change your mind?”

“I thought about what you said in Tulum,” I sigh. “I think you were kind of drunk, but maybe that made you more honest. I like you, Luca, and maybe giving you a chance isn’t the worst idea in the world.”

Luca’s tone becomes more serious. “I admit that I used to be awful—a truly horrible human being—and it probably won’t be the last time. But since you decided to come here, maybe you can look past all that.”

I turn around, eyeing him with a coy smile. “You sound pretty confident.”

“I am,” Luca takes a few steps back, “now that I know I have something you want.”

He glances to the dark hallway and then gives a sharp nod.

Slowly, I pivot and step past him into the darkness. It occurs to me as I reach the back bedroom that maybe I shouldn’t have come here.

But I can always ask for forgiveness later.