Chapter 16

Finn

My muscles burn. They ache when I try to move. Sex this week with Macey has been amazing, but last night was explosive. Earth shattering. The sting from her nails digging into my skin is a stark reminder of what we’ve been doing these past twelve hours. I can still hear her call out my name, begging me for more. I thought I was going to lose it completely when I laid her gently on the bed and made love to her, an action and feeling I never thought I was capable of until a few hours ago. My body took over as I moved into her, creating a slow and deep rhythm. Our eyes stayed locked and our mouths were inches from each other as her hands gripped everything from the sheets to my sides and finally my face. Her lips beckoned me. Her tongue teased me, telling me I want a taste. And I do. I’ve never felt this deep urge to kiss someone until now. Yet, I can’t bring myself to kiss her.

I reach for her, only to find her side of the bed empty and cold. Turning on the bedside lamp, my eyes adjust to the muted light. There’s a soft glow coming from the closet. Slipping into my boxers, I pad across the room and open the door to find her on the floor in front of her suitcase.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing,” she says, without making eye contact.

“I can see that, but it’s five in the morning.” I look over my shoulder to verify that I’m close on the time. “This could wait until tonight, after dinner.”

Macey remains on the floor, rolling and twisting the clothes I’ve bought her into her small suitcase. I glance quickly at her portion of the closet and find the gowns she’s worn this week still hanging.

It’s only when I hear her sniffle that I realize something’s wrong.

“Have I hurt you?”

“No,” she mumbles. I go to her and sit on the floor, moving the suitcase out of my way so I can see her. When she looks at me, her eyes are wet and red-rimmed.

“Macey?”

She shakes her head. “I have to go home.”

“We have one more day,” I remind her, but she continues moving her head back and forth. It dawns on me that something may be wrong at home and I’ve selfishly reminded her that her time with me isn’t up yet.

She stands without answering and disappears into the bathroom, leaving me wondering why she has the sudden urge to leave. When the shower starts, I follow and join her.

Her body shivers either as a result of the still-cool temp of the water or from my touch. I want it to be from me, but I’d never admit that to her. Wrapping my arms around her shoulders, her head falls back as the water begins to soak us.

“Why do you need to leave?”

She sighs and I feel her start to cry. It starts in her belly, working its way up. Macey tries to hold back, but to no avail.

“It’s better this way,” she says, but I don’t understand. Our agreement is solid. And if she leaves early I could negate the entire thing. Does she not realize that?

I bring us to the other side of the shower, away from the water, leaving it on so it provides us with a little warmth. With my hand cradling her face, I pull her chin up to look at me.

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

She clutches my wrist and shakes her head. Macey forgets that I can read her like a book, that I know when she’s upset. It doesn’t matter if she’s trying to fight back the tears or not.

“I’m not going to ask again, Macey. If you leave now, there is no money. You’ll be breaking our contract.” The words tumble out of my mouth before I can realize the impact they’ll have on her and me. I don’t want to take the money away from her, but without any indication of why she’s leaving, I have no choice. Everything was fine; at least I thought it was, until now.

“I’m in too deep,” she says over the rush of the water. “I feel things that I shouldn’t.” Her words cause me to take a step back. My hands drop and as she reaches for me, I exit the shower, leaving her there to come to terms with what she said. Her words throw me, cause my heart to race. I can’t be in the same room as her, knowing that she feels things that I don’t. That I never will. Some call me emotionally stunted and I’ve been fine with that title. I like the way I am.

I dry off and dress quickly before rushing upstairs to my office. Macey moves around downstairs and every few seconds I hear her sob and know that I should go to her, but I don’t. Instead, I get the money I owe her, all in cash, and take it downstairs.

“Do you need me to book your flight?” I ask, standing behind her. She stiffens, but shakes her head. I nod, but she can’t see me. “Your money is on the table. It was great seeing you again, Macey.”

I turn on my heel and exit the room, my apartment and her life. It’s the only way I know how to be. I don’t want a prolonged goodbye or one last roll between the sheets. It’s best to break things off with her this way, before she gets any deeper.

“It’s early,” Lamar says, answering my call.

“Macey is leaving today. Make sure she gets to the airport.”

“Okay,” he says, pausing. “Anything else?”

“Should there be?”

“I don’t know, boss. You tell me.”

The silence between us is filled with static. There is so much more, but none of which I’m willing to admit. I don’t want her to go, not today and definitely not tomorrow. I don’t know if it’s the jealousy that is burning deep over this Morgan person or what, or maybe it’s the fact that I want her to stay of her own accord, to be a thorn in my side knowing that I’m watching her each time she enters my casino. I want her to fill the void, to fill the emptiness that I have felt for years.

“She needs a cellphone. There is one in my desk drawer that I had Hannah get for her. Make sure she knows that I’m going to take care of the bill and pre-program my number in there.”

“Are you going to call her?”

Yes, every night so I can jack off to her voice.

“Probably not, but I want her to have my number in case she needs something from me.” I hang up before he can talk me out of my madness, before he can point out how stupid I am being. Lamar shouldn’t be the one to take her to the airport, that should be me, but I can’t. Not today. I need her to leave on my terms, not hers.

In the parking garage, I get into the Ferrari. I had plans to take Macey out in this car, but we rarely left the apartment unless it was to be chauffeured to an event. I didn’t wine and dine her like I had planned to. I fucked the shit out of her until she couldn’t walk and then went back for more.

Nothing I had planned seemed to pan out except the trip to the Hoover Dam, which, after a rocky start, turned out to be a nice day and even more exceptional night. Having Macey dance for me gave me the biggest hard-on I have ever had. My cock was screaming to be buried deep inside her pussy from the moment I took him out of my pants. Pre-cum was seeping over the rim before I could get my hand wrapped around my base. That is how bad I wanted her.

Pressing down on the accelerator, I hit the Strip and head toward the gym, where I know I’ll find Seth with a gaggle of women surrounding him. His title of professional trainer is loose. He’s more like a professional fucker, banging women that come into his gym for help. Each one wants his dick and he happily gives it to them.

I’m not dressed for the gym, but that doesn’t matter. He keeps a stash of clothes in his locker, swapping them out weekly so there’s always something fresh to wear. As soon as I walk out of the locker room, he sees me and nods. I make my way over, smiling at the four or five women that he’s working with.

“Looking lovely, ladies,” I say, much to their delight. I’m a bastard pig, but I know how to give a compliment.

“What are you doing here so early?”

I move my head back and forth, letting him know that now isn’t the time to talk. Usually I’d go to Brady, but because he has a hard-on for Macey, he doesn’t need to know jack shit about her leaving me today.

Seth gives the group of women some instructions and meets me on the bench press. He helps me stack my weights and prepares to spot me. After ten reps, I ask him to add more and he does.

“You seem frustrated. Do you need to get laid? One of the women over there will gladly give it up, hell, one has been begging for a threesome. She wants two guys.”

My hands slip and Seth is there to make sure the bar doesn’t land on my chest, killing me. My conversation with Macey last night is vividly clear; I was describing her with three men and what we’d do to her. The thought of being with any of the women in the gym makes my stomach roll.

“Have you fucked them all?” I ask, staring up at him. He turns his head and smiles.

“Yep.”

“I saw rings on a few of their fingers.”

Seth runs his hand over his perfectly coifed hair. “Yeah, they’re lonely. Husbands don’t pay attention to them or whatever. The one in the blue, though, she’s a freak. You’d like her.”

“No thanks,” I tell him. I can’t judge him for his lifestyle, even though I want to. This is Vegas and the rules don’t apply here. There are more marriages and divorces in one day in Nevada than in any other state. Most people show up to get hitched and are annulling it by the end of the week because something stupid happened. It’s why I’ll never do it. I’ll never cross that line with someone because I can’t trust myself to love enough.

“Where’s your girl?”

“Dunno.” I came here with the intent of telling Seth about Macey, but can’t bring myself to say anything. I suppose some things are better left between the people who know what’s going on.

I finish my reps and excuse myself to hit the punching bag. Usually I’d bring Lamar, but today I’m on my own, which means unfortunately I have to chase the bag around.

Once my hands are taped and put into gloves I start my assault, imagining what Morgan looks like. I punch his ugly mug, repeatedly, decimating his face in the process. In my mind, the fat nose, busted lip and black eyes aren’t enough and I have to pummel his body. He stands there, taking it like the piece of shit he is for whoring out his woman. Does he know what she’s been doing all week? I can’t imagine being such a lowlife that I’d make my woman strip. A man should take care of his woman or let her go.

I let her go, back to that asshole and I’ll never see her again. What does that say about me? Not much, except I paid her. I paid for her to give herself to me willingly, to submit to all my desires and she did, even creating her own. Maybe that makes me as bad as him.

As soon as I finish beating the shit out of the bag I hit the locker room. My shower is quick and I soon find myself sitting back in my car wondering where I’m going now. I can’t go home because my place smells like Macey. It needs to be cleaned thoroughly, and whatever clothes she didn’t take completely disposed of. I want no trace of her whatsoever in my house. It’ll be as if she doesn’t exist.

Hours go by as I drive aimlessly around town. Lamar texted around lunch, informing me that she had left, and I told him I wanted all trace of her gone from my apartment. The call came minutes ago letting me know the coast is clear.

Except when I step into the elevator, I can smell her. Even though I’ve showered, her scent lingers on my fingers. As soon as I open the door to my place, the quiet overcomes me and I find my mouth opening to call her name. I don’t understand my reaction. This was a business agreement and now it’s over. She was paid pussy and nothing more.

I flop onto my bed, my phone falling out onto the floor. Rolling over to get it, I spot a piece of paper under the bed, on her…the other side. I scramble over there to get it, hoping it’s her number to that old phone she carries around. But it’s not. It’s a photo of a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, a smaller version of Macey. I flip it over and my heart drops.

Morgan, age 9