Sick Fux - Page 100

He was the one who had banished Ellis.

He was the one who had torn us apart.

He was the one who had financed my years in the Water Tower. I had found that out from the Warden’s records when I escaped.

This prick at my feet, the cunt spluttering for breath, gritting his teeth in pain, was the reason I had lost my girl for all those empty years.

I jumped to my feet. Unable to resist any longer, I drove my foot into the Jabberwock’s stomach. He curled up, coughing on my leather shoes. I snarled in disgust, and then flipped him onto his back with the toe of my shoe. I paced back and forth as he lay on his back, his whiskey-induced gut rolling up and down like the swell on the ocean. I shook my head, talking myself down from slitting him navel to nose.

I turned again to Dolly, staring at the mascara that had tracked down her face.

He’d made her cry.

This pathetic motherfucker had made her cry.

He was her kill. His last heartbeat had to be delivered by Dolly’s hand. Flipping my blade in one hand, the steel so comfortable in my grip, and Dolly’s in the other, I spun and slid both blades into his shoulders. The Jabberwock screamed. I smiled as I peered down at him. The steel blades had sunk into the wood beneath his shoulders.

He was stuck fast.

He was now the prey, waiting for Dolly to rouse from her slumber. He flailed, trying to move, but he wasn’t going anywhere. His eyes met mine. I saw in that moment his realization that he had lost.

Then his eyes looked to Dolly . . . and he smiled a small smile of victory. Because he had reduced Dolly to this, lying there, on the bed. To the girl I found all those weeks ago sitting in the chair, staring, unseeing, out of a dirty window.

The lost girl dressed in black.

But no more. She was lost temporarily, because she was without me. The Jabberwock was no fucking match for her Rabbit.

And I’d show him.

I climbed onto the bed. My hand settled gently on Dolly’s face. She felt stone cold. Her eyes looked past me to the ceiling. They didn’t acknowledge my presence.

“Dolly,” I whispered into her ear. There wasn’t a sound. Not even a flicker of movement. I pushed her dress down over her pussy, then moved back to look at her face.

“Wonderland,” I whispered, thinking of Henry’s advice from our discussion months ago. I had to bring her back.

I had to take her through a rabbit hole.

I looked up at the hole in the ceiling. There was no way I was using it. Scooping her in my arms, I raced from the bed to one of the locked doors. I kicked and kicked at the door until the lock gave way. A closet. I rushed to the next door and kicked at the wood. This one was stronger. Eventually, the wood splintered. When the door flew open, a bathroom lay beyond. It was vast, all fine finishes, with a shower and bath.

I ran to the bath and laid Dolly on the floor. I turned on the faucet and put in the plug. Water rose, filling the tub. I sat down and dragged the lifeless Dolly in my arms. I rocked her back and forth in my lap. I stroked back her hair and kissed her face. “Come back to me, darlin’,” I implored and rocked faster. “Come back to me, little Dolly.” My voice was husky and cracked.

I checked the water, willing it to fill faster. Dolly’s eyes were fixed on the towel rail behind us. No life. No spark.

No Dolly in their blue depths.

“Stay with me!” I pulled her higher, biting gently at her neck. “Come back,” I commanded and slit my thimble across my throat. My blood fell onto my shirt, and I placed Dolly’s mouth at my neck. “Drink,” I ordered. “Feel me. Feel our bond.” Setting her down, I sliced my thimble across my hand. I did the same to hers and clasped our palms together. I squeezed them tight, but Dolly’s hands were limp.

Repression. I heard Henry’s warning in my mind. Sometimes the repressed are lost forever. Forever imprisoned in the deepest, most inaccessible reaches of their minds.

“I brought you back once,” I said as I dropped our parted hands. The tub was full. I picked up her light body and plunged her into the water. Dolly’s makeup ran as the water washed over her face. Lightly gripping her throat, I moved her head so she was looking at me. Forcing her eyes to meet mine, I rasped, throat tight and heart shattered, “I’m the White Rabbit . . . I have come to lead you to Wonderland. There was a mission. You got lost.” I swallowed and squeezed my eyes shut. “But now we need you back.” I coughed and fought for breath. “I need you back.” Taking the pocket watch from my vest pocket, I brought it to my ear, directly in her line of sight, and whispered, “Tick tock.”

Tags: Tillie Cole Erotic
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