“Please,” she begged.
Memories of how hard she came when I choked her until she almost passed out made my dick painfully hard. My fingers quickened inside her.
I dragged my nose along her jawline to her ear. “I’m not gonna fuck you yet. When I take you I promise I’m gonna rip you apart and destroy this little pussy until you can think of nothing else but me inside you. You asked why I killed that man? I killed him because I will take out every fuckin’ person who threatens to tarnish what’s meant for only me to ruin.”
“Ah, uh,” she cried out and trembled.
I grinned as her juices flooded my hand. Her body slumped against mine. When I glanced up, tears were falling from her eyes. Leaning in, I stuck my tongue out and caught them.
“Your tears only fuel my desire.” Her lashes fluttered.
I pulled my hand out of her shorts and dragged it against her lips. “Don’t go against me again or next time that man’s blood won’t be the only one on your hands,” I threatened. I licked her lips, swallowing the taste of her essence, then released her. Again her knees buckled but she caught herself on the wall behind her.
Turning around, I walked out of the room. How I felt right now made my skin tight and I felt like ants were crawling underit. I balled my hands into fists, my dad’s voice played in my head. I brushed my hand over my scarred face. When I was out of her room, I rushed to the one place I knew would drown it out.
“Dad took my violin. Can you talk to him to get it back?” I begged my mom, holding onto the bottom of her shirt.
Dad told me I was ungrateful and spoiled. That I needed to be punished because I had become too comfortable. I didn’t even know what he was talking about, but when he rushed into my room and snatched my violin case from my bed I knew whatever was going on wasn’t good. I didn’t care about the bruises currently scattered on my back and abdomen. I just wanted my instrument back.
When his beatings stopped affecting me, he started taking things he knew were important to me. My dad was mad I wasn’t as cruel and heartless as he wanted me to be, but he was determined to change that. He wanted an heir worthy enough to carry his last name and legacy.
Mom stared at me with vacant and empty eyes, almost as if she was looking through me. “Mom!” I called out, attempting to bring her back. Sometimes she was so drugged up she didn’t know her own name. Other times she was so out of her mind, she didn’t know anyone else.
Lowering her eyes to me, her face stayed blank. Something played over her face. Her eyes widened and suddenly filled with fright.
“Demon!” she shouted.
Her hands went to my neck and she squeezed. “Get out of my son!” she bellowed. I struggled to breathe. Whiteness flashed behind my lids.
“Mom, it’s me,” I struggled to get out. “Please,” I begged.
I became lightheaded and my head throbbed.
Suddenly my mom’s hands were gone and she was flying across the room. “I told you to leave her be!” my dad scolded, glaring at me.
I grabbed my neck, gasping for air. Tears clouded my eyes.
“He’s a demon! We need to free my son!” my mom shouted as my dad dragged her out of the living room.
I was yanked up by my shirt and my dad stared at me with a snarl on his face. “Next time you’ll listen to me! Now get your ass together, we got business to handle.”
Dad was determined to groom me to take over the business. He thought tough love was the key to doing that.
“Then I can get my violin back?” I coughed.
He narrowed his eyes, giving me a sadistic smile. “If you want to jump in the furnace to get its ashes then you can have it whenever you want.”
My fingers moved over the keys of my piano quicker and I closed my eyes, envisioning the notes as I played the song. The music moved throughout my body as the tension released. I flared my nostrils and tapped the keys harder. Music was always the thing that soothed me most. When I needed to get away from the loudness, my instruments reeled me in and quieted the noise.
My dad knew how much my instruments meant to me. He would take them as punishment and began destroying them when I rebelled against him. Dad got off on fear. He didn’t care who he caused it too, but it excited him. He was a true psychopath that caused terror wherever he went with noremorse. It was the reason he was so successful because no one wanted to get on his bad side.
The moment my dad saw how good I was with numbers, he sped up the grooming process when it came to getting me ready for the business. He used me to expand his profit. I used to think it was because he wanted to finally be the dad I wanted, but it was all for personal gain. If he saw me now he would tell me I was growing soft and punish me for it.
Slamming my fingers into the keys, I stopped playing and gritted my teeth. Turning around I stared at the rest of the instruments I’d collected over the years. Standing, I went to my violin leaning on the wall. I opened the case, pulled it out, and rubbed my hand over the fresh wood.
“No one touches what’s mine again,” I gritted, grabbing the bow, lifting it, and putting the violin under my chin, resting it on my shoulder and preparing myself to once again get lost in the quiet sounds.
“Lillian, can I ask you something?” I stopped sweeping the floor.
