No Justice for the Damned (Tales from the Tarot)

13. Chapter 13

Chapter thirteen

A be’s eyes rove Hollow’s apartment, taking in the extravagance and garishness, the dark wallpaper and velvet and lace. Like a vampire’s domain, or a Victorian mansion. I’m not sure if it’s Hollow’s style or Sebastian’s but now that I know him, it suits him and this space. Abe, however, seems perturbed. We had to take an Uber here, Delilah still being parked at the Church, and the entire ride over, Abe’s body seemed tense, poised on a knife’s edge. Being in this unfamiliar space definitely hasn’t helped his nerves.

“This is a lot .”

“Yeah.” I shrug, taking his bags and leading him through the living room and down the hallway. He follows me until we reach an unoccupied bedroom, God knows there’s plenty, and I set his bags down on the bed. This room is one of the more muted in the apartment, the bed covered in a simple black velvet duvet, the walls a soft cream color. Black-out curtains make everything dark and Abe crosses to the window to open them and allow the light to stream in.

He takes another long look around before his eyes fall on me. “What did you say this guy does for a living?”

I sniff. “I didn’t.”

“So. What does he do?” Abe crosses his arms over his chest and leans back against the wall, watching me.

“Does it matter?” Since when did this become an interrogation?

“Yeah, it does.” He’s cold, distant. I feel the space between us so starkly it almost hurts.

“He took over this place from Sebastian. He’s running Club Orpheus now.”

“How does Father feel about that?”

“It’s a target on Hollow’s back. Father sent me to kill him.”

Abe raises a brow, unable to mask his curiosity. “Did he?”

I nod. “And I failed.”

“Clearly.”

“Hollow’s the one who showed me what happened to us.”

“Showed you?”

“Told me,” I correct myself. I’m not ready to try and explain the details to him, details I don’t even fully understand. “And I started to remember things. His words and my memories matched up. And then he showed me one of Father’s warehouses. I saw the cages where he keeps the kids.”

Abe’s head falls back against the wall as he pinches his eyes shut tight. “This is a nightmare. It’s the worst thing I could ever imagine. How can you stay so calm about this?”

I realize he can’t see the internal turmoil I’ve dealt with. The crisis of identity. All he sees is my outward stoicism. Something I’ve worked my entire life to craft and perfect. But inside, I’m crumbling, held together by whatever glue Hollow seems to have used to fill in my cracks. Held together by Hollow. “I’m not calm. I’m losing my shit just as much as you are.”

“Doubt it,” he snorts.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” I say again. “And I trust Hollow to help us figure this out. To get you out of here.”

“Hollow.” He shrugs, still not looking at me. “What is this guy to you? You’re staying at his place. You trust him when you never trust anyone. I see the way he looks at you.”

“We’re not…he’s not…I suppose we’re…friends.”

“Friends?”

“Acquaintances who were both kidnapped and forced into sex trafficking by the same man. So, shared trauma and all that. Isn’t that what they say? Trauma makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Absence.” Abe rolls his eyes. “So what does he want? Why is he doing all this? To save the children? To right the wrongs of Father’s dark doings?” His tone is flippant and pandering.

“He wants revenge. He wants to hurt Father.”

That stops Abe in his tracks. “And you’re okay with that?”

I blink. “I don’t serve Father anymore. That’s why I left. That’s why I came to find you.”

“Feelings don’t just change overnight. You loved Father.”

“I loved a man who doesn’t exist. I loved a figment of my imagination. And I did horrible things in his service. I may never be able to make up for what I’ve done. To forgive myself. If this all comes crashing down, I’ll go with it. You know that, don’t you?”

Finally, he looks at me in earnest, like the little brother who needs his big brother to fix up his wounds. “No, Kill, you’re just as much a victim as any of them. You were coerced, tricked.”

“I killed people. Aided in kidnapping. Your kidnapping. Who knows how much else I’ve done that I don’t even remember.”

“I won’t let anyone implicate you.”

“I don’t care about me,” I shrug, feeling close to laughter. To hysterics. “You were wrong when you said I’d never been in love.”

He inhales slightly, eyes huge as they take me in, as he registers my admission. “Kill…”

I do laugh then, a laugh that starts as a hoarse, grating thing and then amplifies itself. I laugh and wheeze and laugh until tears run down my face and before I know it, I’m sobbing. And shaking and sinking slowly to the bed so I can bury my face in my hands and hide my shame from his view.

But gently, slowly, he sits down beside me. Strong, thin arms wrap around my shoulders, tugging me closer and eventually, I allow myself to sink into him. Into Abe. I lay my head on his shoulder as he holds me and I feel a soft kiss press against my scalp. His fingers strum through my hair, a comforting gesture I used to perform on him when we were both children and he’d woken up from a nightmare.

I realize now that they were nightmares of my making. My fault. I was the cause. How could he have ever loved me? How could I have ever hoped those feelings would possibly be reciprocated?

He coos softly in my ear, gentle words I can barely make out, but just to be held in his arms feels almost like forgiveness. I don’t need anything else.

Eventually, we lay back on the bed, his head on the pillows, my head on his chest. He continues to stroke my hair until we both fall asleep.

I come awake eventually, unsure how long I’ve slept. Abe still sleeps soundly beside me, his chest rising and falling, his eyelids fluttering in slumber. He looks so boyish and peaceful. I wonder if he’s been able to rest since all of this started. I hope he can truly rest now.

As I stare down at my brother, a startling realization washes over me. As we lie side by side, curled around one another, I wish it was someone else beside me instead. I love my brother. I will fight tooth and nail and with everything in my power to protect him. But I’m not in love with him. Not anymore.

My mind drifts to Hollow then, to all the things he’s done for us when he didn’t have to. He had no obligation to me, nothing to prove or gain. He’s risen to the occasion, giving us both shelter, protecting us from Father, even offering to save Abe’s priest lover. We owe so much to him now. More than I like hanging over my head.

And then there’s the matter of whatever is happening between us. How my body and mind react to him. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, so intrigued, so enamored. More than that, I like him. I enjoy being around him. I trust him. That’s very much not like me. Has knowing him changed me so much?

Abe mumbles something in his sleep, something close to a whimper, so I lean in and brush a stray piece of hair away from his face. I study him, so handsome and young, and wonder who he might have been in another life. The life he’d been meant for. If I hadn’t come into it and fucked everything up.

Whatever it takes, I’m determined to make it right. He won’t suffer any more on my account. Father will know justice even if it’s at my expense.

The sound of a key in a lock, the front door creaking open, sets me on high alert. Immediately, I sit up from the bed, rising to stand and withdrawing my knife from my pants pocket. Likely it’s Hollow, but I can’t be too careful. Not with Abe still asleep, unarmed and unguarded, in bed. Flicking my knife open, I approach the threshold and peer into the hallway.

Hollow stands near the front door, kicking off his boots, removing his jacket before moving to hang it in the closet.

I breathe a sigh of relief as I move to join him, silently shutting the door to Abe’s room so as not to disturb him. Hollow looks up with a sly smile as I approach, taking in, I’m sure, my mussed hair and rumpled clothing. “Is he settled?” he asks and I nod.

“And you?” he asks.

“I’m fine.” We’re close now, close enough to touch and I want to. So badly. I want to show him how grateful I am.

So I do. I insert myself into his space, pressing his body against the door so we’re chest to chest, groin to groin. I push my leg in between his, feeling his growing hardness straining against me and then I kiss him, deeply, longingly, boldly, desperately. I kiss him like he’s my air and I’m a man drowning, tossed about at sea. And he lets me take, take and take until he’s consumed by me and I’m consumed by him.

He grips my chin, controlling the kiss, splaying his fingers over my jaw and neck in a possessive, gluttonous way. He tastes so good, like sunshine and lemon juice, tart and bright and full of life, like a whirlwind of color blossoming in my mouth. I want more.

He groans into my mouth, biting my lower lip as my hands move to slip under his t-shirt and over his chest. I grip his skin, allowing my thumb to brush over a nipple. He bucks against my leg, seeking friction as I grind against him. I’m determined to give him everything he wants, anything.

His hands move to wind in the back of my hair, twisting the strands around his fingers and tugging. Not enough to hurt but enough to claim, to take. And then, with one hand securely locked against my scalp, he grips my ass with the other and presses our cocks together, thrusting and kneading at the same time. It’s like we can’t get close enough, deep enough.

I pull away to yank his shirt off his shoulders, pleased to see his swollen lips, his straining erection. The sheer desperation in his eyes. He wants me so badly he could burst. I feel powerful, beautiful, worthy.

And then I toy with the button of his pants, undoing his zipper as his mouth falls open. Spitting on my palm, I shove my hand inside, under the hem of his boxers and he groans as my fingers make contact. Skin on skin, thumb rubbing against the leaking head. He bites his lip and I take his mouth again, wanting to taste every one of those breathy little moans.

“Well if this isn’t a nice welcome home,” he purrs into my ear. “I’d like to be greeted like this every time I walk through the door.”

My hand slides over his length and his smug words are stolen by a gasp. He trembles, kissing me deeper, holding me tighter, his entire body rigid and stiff with need. I don’t want him to come like this.

As I pull away again, he mewls in protest but when I fall to my knees, he lets out a huffy chuckle. “Fuck.”

I tug at his waistband, rucking his pants down the jut of his ass and over each of his feet to pool on the floor so his cock springs free, achingly hard, pink at the tip, dripping with pre-spend. He’s naked standing before me then, unashamed, panting and beautiful. And before he can utter a word, I take him in my mouth, all the way to the hilt.

I alternate sucking and swallowing, licking his tip before diving forward again and I glance up to see his eyes rolling back as his head hits the door behind him. He sinks against it, breathing heavily, body trembling with the desperate need for more.

I know he wants to grasp hold of me, put his hands on my head and guide my efforts but instead, his fists are clenched tight against the door, gripping the wood for dear life as though he’s afraid to infringe on my generosity, overstep my boundaries.

So I reach out as I suck on his head, taking those hands and placing them in my hair. Encouraging him to guide me. To show me how hard and fast he wants it. Set the pace , I will him. Set the pace and I’ll follow.

Gingerly, carefully, he begins to thrust into my mouth, not enough to hurt me or to gag me, but just enough to use me to satisfy. His nails dig into my scalp, guiding my movements. He doesn’t go too fast, doesn’t rush the pleasure along, allowing me to take my time, to suck and fondle and lick along his shaft.

I can feel him tensing, feel him getting closer and closer to the edge. “Kill—” he gasps. “I’m coming. I’m coming.” As though he’s trying to warn me. But I don’t move away. Instead, I shove him fully in my mouth, tasting him as he jerks onto my tongue, filling me with his sticky, salty spend. I drink him down, sucking on the tip so he whimpers, a glorious, high-pitched sound.

And then, when my mouth is still filled with him, he yanks me to my feet and shoves his tongue between my lips, tasting himself, drinking it down as our mouths again open to each other. “Fuck,” he whispers against my lips, his forehead coming to rest against mine. “What are you doing to me?”

“Nothing you didn’t seem to like.”

He grins, pulling back to examine me, to run the pad of his thumb over my lower lip. “I’ve loved every minute, darling.”

I bite him, though not hard enough to wound, and he smiles. “Naughty.” He presses his leg between mine to find my cock still rock solid. I huff out a breath as he rubs it against me. “You’re still hard.”

“So observant,” I grit through a stifled moan.

He grins, his hands scaling my body to fondle me through my pants. He watches as I begin to pant and my mouth falls open. “There’s still more I want from you.”

My eyes roll back and I swallow. “Haven’t you already been satisfied?”

“Not hardly. I’ll never get enough of you.” He leans in to whisper in my ear. “I’m ever so curious. Have you ever topped?”

My blood goes hot and I blink as my heart rate quickens. My cheeks are flushed as he studies me, golden eyes shimmering and mischievous. He begins to tug at the buttons of my jeans, undoing them slowly, so slowly, I feel I could explode from the tension. Swallowing, I shake my head.

“Didn’t think so,” he says, his hand slipping inside to fondle me over my underwear. “I’d be so honored to be your first.”

“Mmm,” I bite my lip, waves of lust rushing through me at the thought of bending Hollow over, slipping inside him, feeling the full warmth of him all around me.

“That’s what I want,” he says against my neck, biting and licking at the sensitive skin there. I can feel goosebumps shooting up every place his lips touch. “Would you like that?”

My brain short circuits and all I can do is nod dumbly as he continues to toy with my cock and kiss my neck. “So shy,” he murmurs. “That’s not like you, Kill. Are you embarrassed?”

“Quit talking,” I snap. “Take me to bed.”

His smile stretches across his face as he wastes no time in scooping me up in his arms and carrying me bridal style down the hallway and into his bedroom. He’s completely naked still and for a moment, I’m terrified Abe will wake up and emerge from his room to see us wrapped up in each other, but Hollow moves quickly and before I know it, we’re safe behind a closed door and I’m being carefully set down upon the mattress.

I watch that hard, muscular body walk around the bed and dig into the bedside drawer to withdraw a condom and the same bottle of lube from last night. He’s already half hard again and I can’t stop looking at him, taking him in, all his sharp lines and jutting curves. The scar over his heart that says my name.

Scooting up to situate myself at the against the headboard, I lean back with my pants still undone. Slowly, I take myself in hand, pumping as I watch him draw closer. He crawls between my spread legs then and leans over me. “You beautiful thing,” he murmurs. “I could watch you do that forever.”

I huff out a laugh. “I was promised other things .”

“And have them you shall. But first.” He helps me remove my jacket, discarding it on the floor, before sliding my shirt over my head so I’m bare-chested. He scales my newly exposed skin, pressing slow, languorous kisses to my abs, to each of my peaked nipples. I continue to jerk myself as he sucks one and then the other into his mouth and grazes them with his tongue.

When he pulls back, he’s smiling. He flicks my piercing with a finger, teasing and toying as I gasp, unable to look away.

“Hips up,” he says, and I do as he says to assist him in removing my pants entirely. Then, we’re both completely naked and desperately hard. I ache for him as I’ve never ached for another person. I could fall forever into those golden eyes and though the thought should terrify me, it actually brings me a sense of peace.

“Keep doing that,” Hollow says, gesturing to the hands that work hard on my shaft. “I want to see.”

I do as he says, even though I’m getting close, slowing down my strokes as I see him sit back on his heels. He pops the cap of the lube and drizzles it onto his palm, warming it and dipping his fingers in the liquid. Then, he brings his hands around and begins spreading himself open, his eyes on me the entire time.

He’s so gorgeous, looking absolutely debauched, lust drunk and desperate. His eyes dart from my hands to my face and back again, using my lust to fuel his own.

I have to swallow back a wave of pleasure, a desperate keening toward the edge of release, stalling my hand and squeezing my cock to suppress it. I bite my lip and a small whimper escapes me, one that causes Hollow’s eyes to darken, his pupils to widen as he leans in to take my lips hard and deep. “Beautiful, beautiful boy,” he purrs. “That’s it. That’s so good.”

He situates himself over my hips, grabbing the condom and ripping it open to slide it down my shaft. My head falls back to the pillows as he liberally coats to my oversensitive cock with lube. I’m so close, I have to breathe, to settle myself in preparation. Otherwise I might blow as soon as I get inside him.

“Are you ready, darling?” he whispers, and I have to stifle a moan by biting hard on my wrist. I shake my head, tears welling at my eyes.

“What’s the matter?” he leans in, kissing my neck, stroking my hair.

“I’m going to…” I manage, shaking my head. “If you do it now, I’ll come.”

He smiles. “Oh sweetheart. You won’t. You can hold it.”

“I can’t,” I whimper. I’m so sensitive, aching and swollen and red.

Gently, Hollow takes my hands and pins them to the sheets at my sides. “No more touching. Trust me. I think you can hold it for a little longer.” And then he sinks down onto me, gasping and moaning aloud as he does so.

I cry out, tears escaping now, my body reeling at the exquisite ecstasy, the warmth and tightness of being inside him, of feeling him all around me. I feel my pleasure cresting as he rises and falls, his hips meeting mine as he allows me all the way inside.

“Hold it back, Kill. I know you can do it. I want you to hold it in. Just a little longer. Just until I’ve had my fill.”

He begins to rock steadily, bouncing up and down, riding me hard while throwing his head back and groaning with abandon. “Fuck, fuck,” he chants, his hands roving my chest, pinching my nipples. Flicking my piercing. Over and over. He’s obsessed with it and he’s purposely working me to the edge, urging me not to fall.

My eyes clench shut in my effort to hold back from orgasm. My entire body feels like it's on fire, like it’s a tightly coiled spring ready to snap. “Hollow,” I whimper. “Hollow. Hollow.”

“God, look at you,” he murmurs. “So desperate to come. You want it so bad, don’t you?”

I nod as tears run down my cheeks. It’s so overwhelming and so good. Too much. Not enough.

He’s grinding and bouncing in earnest now, so hard and heavy, every time he hits my hips, the bed shakes with the force of it. He grips his dick then, tugging it in time with his movements until he’s crying out, open-mouthed. “That’s it, baby. You can come. Come with me. Come with me.”

And I do, finally letting go as I watch him succumb to his own pleasure, using my body as a tool for his release. He spurts in his hand and all over my chest, covering me in a sheen of his cum. All the while, I’m shooting inside of him, into his warmth. He smiles the entire time like he’s won the most glorious victory. Maybe he has.

He goes to roll off me then, but I hold him steady, hands gripping his skin. “No,” I mumble and he laughs, eventually slumping down on top of me, my cock still buried in his ass.

“That was…one of the most gorgeous things I’ve ever seen,” he says, voice low and dripping with sex. “Seeing you lose yourself like that. Seeing you so vulnerable and desperate.”

I groan, an arm falling over my face to hide my fresh flush.

He takes my arm and moves it away so we’re staring into each other. His expression is dreamy, loving almost. “I know it doesn't come easily to you. Exposing yourself in such a way. But I’m honored to have been able to see it. It was truly a rare and beautiful thing.”

I roll my eyes, but inside I’m floating, absorbing those words and harboring them in my memory, along with the intensity, the intimacy of the moment we just shared. No matter what happens next, I’ll keep this moment forever. This small section of time in which only we exist, him and me, wrapped in each other, consumed by whatever this thing is between us.

As if he can sense my sentimentality, he leans in and kisses me, deep and loving, his hands coming to rest on my cheek. We lie like that for several minutes, consumed by that kiss, by the feeling of each other’s bodies, the warmth and comfort of existing together.

Eventually though, he rolls off me and my cock springs free, flagging slightly. He chuckles and pulls the condom off, tying it at the end before throwing it to the floor and yanking me back to him, allowing me to snuggle against his chest. He gazes at the ceiling silently, as if lost in thought and I watch him watching the patterns of the tiles above us.

“You were…unexpected, you know?” he says quietly. “In my quest for revenge, you were the one thing I didn’t plan for.”

“What do you mean?”

“I was so determined to hurt Father, to make him pay for what he did to me, I didn’t think it possible to feel this way. You’re a distraction.”

My brow furrows. “A distraction?”

He turns his head to look down at me. “A weakness, in a way. Because now I’m determined not to let anything hurt you. If Father used you against me somehow, my revenge might unravel in front of me.”

I take a moment to ponder that statement. Is he saying he’d abandon his revenge for my sake? Would I be okay with that? As my thoughts wander, I begin to toy absentmindedly with his nipple, watching it perk up beneath my touch.

“I don’t—”

“I would choose you,” he says and I meet his eyes. They look at me with intense sincerity, a strange contrast from his usual playful frivolity.

“I wouldn’t ask you to choose,” I finally say.

His lip curls in fondness. “I know.” There’s a weight in those two words, a weight I feel through his steady gaze, the way he slips a hand under my chin to raise my lips to his. When he pulls away, there’s a strange sadness in his eyes. “Whatever happens, Kill, I want you to know, I care about you. Deeply. More than I should.”

I study him, trying to make sense of that look. “What’s going to happen?”

He chuckles and shrugs. “Anything could happen. Magic is a strange thing. Unpredictable.”

“You’re planning something. I want to know what.”

“My curious little minx.” He kisses the top of my head.

“Again with the patronizing,” I snap. “I’m capable of handling myself.”

“I know,” he repeats. “When I have a plan, you’ll be the first to know.”

I glare at him, even as I feel myself melting into him once again. “If you’re lying to me, I’ll kill you.”

He laughs aloud at that before kissing me once more. “I know.”