Ashley sat on a stool at the kitchen island, her big eyes following me around the room as I prepared lunch, or breakfast, really. We’d spent the night in her bed, then made love in the morning. Not the way we’d both been desperate for. I still wasn’t quite ready to pop that cherry of hers. I wasn’t sure when it was going to happen, but I figured I’d know when the time was perfect.

I explored her pussy and asshole with my fingers while she lay on her stomach, wanting so badly to feel those tight muscles clench around my throbbing cock. When she reached her hands back and spread her ass cheeks apart for me I just about lost it. She actually wanted me to stick my cock in her asshole. She had no idea what she was asking.

“Not yet, sweet pea. We need to work up to that.”

“But I’ve had all kinds of things in there. My fingers, dildos …”

I flipped her over and straddled her, sticking my massive cock in her face. “You really think you’re ready for this?” I asked, smiling down at her widening eyes.

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” she said with a meek smile.

“I’ll tell you what. I’m going to fuck your mouth again—see if we can get it in a little further this time—and you can show me how much you want to come for me. I liked having you come right when I did last night. While my cock was buried in your mouth.”

“So did I.” Her eyes sparkled as I lowered my cock to her lips. I watched the head disappear in between her pink lips, then further inside her mouth. She was already taking more of my cock in this morning. I balanced myself with my hands on either side of her head while I thrust my hips toward her face, working my cock deeper and deeper down her throat.

Somehow, I’d never fucked a woman’s face in this position before, as if I were fucking a pussy missionary style, and it was intoxicating. The angle was better and the view was very nice. I could feel Ashley tense up underneath me and at first I worried that I was choking her, but when I saw her eyes I knew that she was close to coming. My cock hadn’t completely disappeared inside her mouth, but it was in further than the last time, so I let myself spill over the edge while I watched her shake and writhe underneath me.

I was already getting used to having her with me. I truly hated the thought of Ashley having to leave, but I didn’t know if I would be able to make it work.

As she watched me cook, I had a feeling she wanted to ask me something, but I wasn’t prepared for the question that came out of her mouth.

“Isn’t she here?”

“Who?” I knew exactly who Ashley was talking about.

“Jessica’s mom,” she said in a meek voice.

“Her name is Samantha, and no, she’s not here.”

Ashley was silent for a few more minutes, maybe waiting for the explanation that I wasn’t ready to give her yet. When she finally spoke again she thankfully didn’t stay on the subject.

“This isn’t the house I remember from when I was a kid. It’s similar—the furniture is the same, but when I looked out the window—“

“This is a house that belongs to Samantha’s father—or to the college, specifically. He is the president of Westshire and this house is one that is kept for upper administration. I think he lets us live here because of his daughter, though.”

“But you are part of the administration.”

“Yes, but I’m a department dean, not exactly that high on the totem pole. Not in his eyes, anyway.”

“I doubt that,” she said with a smile. “You seem like the kind of man who gets what you want.”

I looked up at her from the vegetables I was chopping. “Sometimes yes, sometimes no. You can be the most powerful man in the world and still not get everything you want. Unfortunately, the fate of the world—and the people in it that I care about—does not rest in my hands.”

“What do you mean? What don’t you have that you want?”

I thought about it for a moment. It seemed obvious to me, but maybe to someone so young—someone with so little life experience—it wasn’t. “Well, for one thing I can’t very well have one of the students in my department be seen coming and going from my own house. I have to worry about how things look.”

“Is that why you brought me here the way you did?”

“Partly,” I said. I didn’t particularly want to have this conversation, but I also knew it wasn’t fair to Ashley to keep her in the dark. I wasn’t a monster. Not a total monster, anyway. “It was also partly because I didn’t want you to know my identity.”

“Why?”

“Because of who I am, who we are to each other. I’m old enough to be your father. You practically grew up in front of my eyes. Considering that, it wouldn’t be possible for us to have any kind of proper relationship—not to mention with my job and Samantha—so I guess I felt more comfortable keeping my identity to myself.”

“I wouldn’t have minded.”

“What?”

“Any of it. You being who you are … a proper relationship—or an improper relationship, for that matter. I just never imagined that you would want to be with me.” She sat there looking up at me with such a hopeful look in her eyes that it made me smile. Everything she did made me smile. “There must be all kinds of women practically throwing themselves at you.”

“Just because women throw themselves that doesn’t make them worth catching. After … well, after everything that has happened over the last couple of years I’d pretty much given up on any kind of relationship. I haven’t noticed any women in a long time.”

“Because of Jessica?”

“Yes, definitely. Losing her was incredibly hard … on both of us—her mother and me. There’s more, though.” I pulled a tray of grilled potato wedges out of the oven and spooned them onto two plates. “But nothing worth ruining breakfast over.”

“Drake, tell me. I want to know more about you. You know so much about me and I feel like I know so little about you. You’ve always been a mystery to me.”

“I’m no mystery. Just a man.”

I looked at her for a long moment. The conversation was starting to tread on thin ice for me. I felt like too much was coming up too fast and I was getting uncomfortable. But deep down I knew she was right.

It didn’t matter that I wanted to control her in the bedroom or that she actually wanted to stay here with me as my plaything. While we were outside of the bedroom, she deserved answers to her questions. She deserved to know the truth about me. I mounded scrambled eggs onto each plate, placing one in front of Ashley and one in front of an empty seat, then grabbed some coffee cups.

“I suppose there are some things that have happened in my past that have … colored … the way I see the world, and the way I view the people around me. One of the reasons I brought you here is because I wanted to keep you safe.”

“Safe from what? From those guys online?”

“No, I’m quite sure you can take care of yourself when it comes to those old bastards.”

“Then from my boyfriend?”

I cringed when she said that word. All I could think about was that little asshole’s face when he challenged me in Ashley’s room. “I can’t say that it thrilled me to see you with a guy like that—“

“You saw us together?” she asked, a perplexed look on her face. I had to think quick, I knew she rarely went out, but I also knew she left her room with him on occasion. I’d watched them leave together.

“Well, I didn’t exactly see you. I’m pretty sure I heard some students talking about the two of you,” I lied.

“What students?”

“It doesn’t matter, Ashley. What I’m trying to say is that I thought you could do much better than that little twerp.” I filled up the coffee cups and sat down in front of my plate of food, none of it looking particularly appetizing anymore. I hated lying to Ashley, but there was no way I could ever tell her that I’d had hidden cameras installed in her room, no matter how good my original intentions were.

“Yeah, I agree,” she laughed, then looked down at a her fingers as one of them scratched at the edge of the counter. “Then what else is there to keep me safe from?”

“From yourself.”

She stopped scratching the counter but didn’t look up. “You know about that?” I could see her face turning pink even though she made an effort to hide it from me.

“Of course I do. I’m the reason you got out of that hospital and received a full scholarship to Westshire. I didn’t know if you had any other relatives who would take care of you and I couldn’t bear the thought of you rotting away in that place.”

She finally looked up and I could see the glaze of tears in her eyes. “Really? You did that for me?”

“Yes,” I said, putting my hand on Ashley’s. “I did that for you. The idea of you trapped in that horrible institution for the rest of your life, it just …” The irony of what I was saying wasn’t lost on me, since my wife was still in a place very much like that, but she was an entirely different story. Samantha seemed to want to stay exactly where she was. “I wanted you to have a life again. But once you got out and started college and you were isolating yourself so much, I was afraid that you—“

“That I would try to kill myself again.”

“Have you?” I was pretty sure I knew the answer to that, I just wanted to hear it from her mouth.

“No.”

“Have you wanted to?”

She didn’t answer right away and that immediately made me anxious. “Not really. I mean, I guess I’ve thought about it, but I don’t know if I could go through with it again. Although, they do say the people who are the highest risk are the one’s who’ve already attempted suicide.”

“I know.” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to continue on, but the words came out before I could stop them. I hadn’t talked about my brother with anyone since Samantha went into the hospital and I was pretty sure that I’d been needing to for a long time. “My brother was one of those high risk people. He attempted suicide when he was in his twenties. Then years later, after everyone had basically forgotten—or couldn’t imagine that he was even the same person anymore—he shot himself, and he was … successful.”

“Oh God, Drake. I’m so sorry. Were you close?”

“Yes, we were, but not as close as I thought, I guess.”

“Why? Because he didn’t tell you—didn’t try to get you to stop him?”

“Well, yes, that … but also because … I just wasn’t listening to him anymore. In some ways he seemed so much better than the person he was in his twenties, but he still had these crazy ideas in his head. Paranoid ideas. After hearing him talk about them for years, I stopped paying attention. I even told him not to talk about it anymore. I told him that I couldn’t be his therapist and that I didn’t want to hear any more of his paranoid ideas and fantasies. I’d just had enough. So, the fact that he wasn’t telling me about the people who were after him anymore … I guess I chose to view that as him getting better, when in reality he just didn’t have anyone to tell. I was one of his only friends.”

“But it’s not your fault. It wasn’t your job to take care of him. It sounds like he really needed a therapist. You can’t blame yourself, Drake. You couldn’t have known.”

“Yeah, but I did. I knew how much pain he was in. I just didn’t want to hear it anymore. He refused to go to therapy, saying that going to see one would tip them off—these guys who were after him.”

“What guys?”

“There was no one! I don’t even know what he was talking about. I never did. He would move from one place to the next—he would just abandon all of his possessions and basically go into hiding. Then, within days of getting settled in his new place he’d tell me about some shop owner who looked at him funny or some restaurant he was in where he heard people say his name then look over at him. He was convinced that there was an underground circuit of people who were out to get him.”

Ashley didn’t say anything. She just looked horrified. I wasn’t sure if I should continue, but she squeezed my hand and I kept going.

“For the most part he seemed normal. He would make jokes with me and laugh and date women. The relationships never lasted longer than a few months, though, and I’m pretty sure it was because he’d start talking about the men. It would just pop up out of nowhere, too. He would corner me when the family was together and he’d tell me what he heard at a laundromat or a bar. Or he’d show me things online that he was convinced were about him.

“The first time he tried to kill himself, he told me he was alone in his house and when he finally got the nerve up to squeeze the trigger something didn’t work. The gun didn’t fire. He took that as some sort of sign and didn’t try it again, but when our mother told me she hadn’t heard from him in three weeks, I knew. It had been years since that first time, but I knew. It was almost as if someone whispered it in my ear—James shot himself.”

“No one had heard from him? He didn’t have any friends or anything?”

“No.” I stared at the food that was getting cold on the plate in front of me. “Three weeks. That’s how long he was dead before anyone even thought to check on him. I didn’t want to believe it. After our mom told me that she hadn’t talked to him in so long, I kept calling him and texting him and I even emailed a couple times. I told him that Mom was really worried and that he needed to call her, but the whole time I was typing the emails I knew I would never get a reply. I knew he was dead.

“When I spoke to our mother and she still hadn’t done anything, I told her to go over to his house and break in—break a window or anything—or get the cops and bust the door down, but she was afraid to because she was scared he’d be mad at her. She had no idea that he’d tried to kill himself once already and I honestly don’t think it crossed her mind.”

“Couldn’t you go there yourself?”

“They both live in the town that I grew up in, it’s in upstate New York. I couldn’t get away from school until the weekend, otherwise I would have. But later that day, it didn’t matter anymore whether I went or not. My mother called and told me that she found him. She had to break a window to get into his house and she and a friend of hers found him in the shower. I guess he tried to make himself easier to clean up,” I laughed. But it wasn’t a lighthearted laugh at all.

“They called the police and were told that, by the looks of things, his body had been there for three weeks. Apparently it was so bloated and decomposed he wasn’t even recognizable. Not to mention that he had blown his head off.”

“Oh God, Drake!”

“I’m sorry, Ashley, this is a horrible thing to talk about. I don’t even know why I started.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one that’s sorry. You’ve lost so much, Drake. I had no idea.” Ashley looked down for a moment then back up into my eyes, hers filled with tears. “Whatever you need from me, please just take it, Drake. I can’t bear to hear you apologize to me.”

“Don’t say that, Ashley.”

“Just go on. Finish telling me about your brother.”

I held her hand in both of mine and continued. “I’m not sure how much more there is to tell, other than how shitty I feel about it. At first, I pictured the police picking up his body and putting it on a stretcher, almost as if he were asleep. I pictured him how he’d always looked, only finally at peace. I guess my brain wasn’t able to handle the horrible truth because I knew perfectly well what happens to a body within days of death, and it’s not pretty.”

“There’s nothing wrong with that, though. You wanted to remember him how you knew him. And you can’t blame yourself for not having talked to him or thought about him for those three weeks.”

“That’s not true, though,” I couldn’t even look at Ashley anymore. I could feel my self loathing taking over. I hated myself for what I was about to say, but it all just came pouring out of me.”I did think about him during those three weeks. But do you know what I thought? I thought, I’m glad that I haven’t heard from James. I’m glad he hasn’t called me in a while to tell me about those people who he thinks are after him. What kind of brother thinks something like that? I loved him but I just …”

I couldn’t stop the tears from falling from my eyes. I’d never told anyone about that—those horrible thoughts I’d had while my brother was lying dead, rotting away with no one—not one single person—asking about him or worried because they hadn’t heard from him. “I was just so tired,” I said, my throat feeling like it was closing up. “Of hearing those same stories over and over. Of hearing his detailed descriptions of how the comments on some person’s video were somehow directed at him. Only in some sort of code that didn’t make any sense at all. He would tell me these things and I’d just stare at him and wonder how the hell he could not hear how crazy he sounded.”

“Oh, Drake. I’m so sorry.” Ashley slid off her stool and put her arms around me and I buried my face in her hair. When she spoke again, her voice was shaking. “He has to be in a better place now, though. Don’t you think?”

“Yes, of course. I just wish … “

“You wish you could have made his life better for him?” she said, pulling back and looking into my eyes.

I looked at Ashley, but I couldn’t speak. That’s what it was. That’s why she was here. I wanted to make it better for her. I wanted to take her out of her life and keep her in a place where she wouldn’t have any reason to kill herself. And where she wouldn’t have any way to access anything that would allow it to happen. I was trying to save her from the same fate as my brother. I wanted to feel like I could help at least one person in my life. My brother was dead and my wife was in an institution that she didn’t seem to want to leave and I couldn’t take losing anyone else. Especially not Ashley.

But my heart sank, because the reality of the situation was that I was not saving Ashley. I was hurting her and I was using her.

“I think I understand what your brother was going through.”

“What do you mean?”

“There were times when I was kind of like him. I mean, I didn’t think there were groups of people after me, but the times when I was the most depressed—right before I tried to kill myself—I actually thought everyone I passed on the streets knew. I didn’t want to go anywhere because I could feel it. I was convinced that they all knew what I had done.”

I knew what Ashley was talking about and hearing her say it just about tore my heart out. I’d prayed that she didn’t still think that it was all her fault, but as I looked into her sad eyes I knew that she did. “You mean, the accident?”

“Yes. I’ve thought about it so many times since then.” She stepped back a little and put her head down. I wanted to grab her and hold her, but I wasn’t sure if that was the right thing to do anymore. “I’ve played it out in my head over and over, Drake. If I just hadn’t been driving so fast … if I had slowed down just a little … then they would all still be alive.”

Ashley was the one crying now, but what she was saying brought tears to my eyes again too. “You can’t blame yourself, Ashley. It was an accident.” I held her head between my hands and looked into her eyes. “It was an accident.”

“But I should have been more careful! I should have been paying attention. My dad told me to slow down … that I was taking the turn too fast … but I was laughing with Jessica about something. I don’t even remember what it was now! If only I’d been paying attention—“

She cut herself off with a sob that shook her body. I had no idea she was still in such pain about what had happened. I’d wondered many times, and I’d wanted to talk to her about it, but I just couldn’t. I pulled her to me and held her in my arms. She cried for a long time before saying anything, but when she spoke it felt like she stuck a dagger right through my heart.

“I don’t blame you if you hate me. I don’t even understand why you’d want me here with you.”

I pulled Ashley’s head away from my chest. “Ashley, I could never hate you.”

“But I killed your only daughter! And my parents! It was my fault, Drake. I was the one that was driving! I ruined everything!”

“Ashley, you didn’t. Please, you can’t keep blaming yourself.”

“They’re all gone. I’ll never have my parents back and you’ll never have your daughter back. I’m so sorry, Drake.”

Ashley put her head to my chest again and wrapped her arms around my neck. My heart ached for her. I never blamed her for the accident that killed my daughter and her parents. I knew it was an accident. But I also knew that was a lot for a young girl like her to take on. And now that I knew how tortured she still was, I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to let her go.