The Goodbye Man (18 page)

Keep your enemies close, your lovers closer and never let your family out of sight.

“Come in here, boy,”
I direct Mateo as I roll onto my side, pulling my sweet girl with me. He looks hesitant but does as I say. “Take off your shoes and lie here, just feel what it’s like when they can feel too.” The boy is playing a dangerous game with me. I want to teach him a lesson, but I need him to want her more than that.

He toes off his shoes and sits on the edge of the bed. He is hesitant but something resembling lust glints in his eyes. He wanted to be just then as he watched me loving her. He isn’t sure of this, it is far from his order and neat lines. There is no glass jar, she has a pulse, and a fucking voice.
That voice the devil gave her to whisper to you, Caesar. You should just throw yourself in the fires for loving her.
She is awake now, her body is relaxed and is so warm against mine. My hand still cups her breast and I can see Mateo’s eyes on it, the glitter of lust turning green with envy. “I said lie down, Mateo. Are you really that deaf?” I look at him to draw his eyes away from my hand. “Lie down and learn something from an old man.”

He sighs and I can smell his stupid menthol cigarettes on his breath as he lies down facing us. His dark brown eyes are confused, as he looks into mine. I am the only person this boy has ever listened to in his life and I think I have the power literally in my hands to fix his sick mind. She is just like Ophelia, her dark hair and perfect lips, the way she looks up through her lashes. There is only one thing my sweet little girl isn’t, and that is dead. Her body moves and takes its pleasure from being touched the way she feels when she arches into me and comes undone - she is very much alive. Her eyes are closed but she is here awake and with us. “Have you ever made a woman come, Mateo?” I push at his weakness. “Dead girls can’t squeeze your dick with their pussies.” His eyes widen as my hand strokes her exposed nipple and her mouth falls open. A soft gasp of air escapes her lips. I can see him wrestling with his demons, trying to decide if he should run away or stay. I lick her neck right near her ear and her skin bursts with goosebumps. “You ever kiss a living girl? Feel her tongue roll against yours, taste her sweetness as she sucks against you?” His breaths become shallower than they were and I see he is getting uncomfortably hard in his jeans.

“Take your clothes off, boy.” It’s a command, not an option and he obeys. When he lies down again, I take her hand and place it on his bare chest. He stiffens and tries to pull away but he would fall off the small bed. He has nowhere to go, which is exactly where I need him. “She wants to be loved, Mateo. It’s not hard boy, you do it with corpses and coma patients every day.” He lifts his hand to her chin and she opens her eyes to look into his; she is so calm and is in a place of quiet contentment as they look at each other.

“If I love her, she will leave me.” He lets his words whisper out, which does stupid things to my body that enrage me but I cannot ruin this.

“No, niño. If you love her, she will stay forever,” I answer, my fingers tugging at her hardening nipples. “Won’t you, mi amor? Wouldn’t you stay forever if someone loved you?” Her eyes train on him when I speak, they have a silent connection already. She nods her head, answering him without words. “Kiss her, boy.” That’s the way to break her - and you. He hesitates, just staring at her with his hand cupping he face.

“Kiss me, please,” she whispers. My body roars with the words and jealousy as he moves himself closer and kisses her; his hand is on her delicate neck and he holds her still as they kiss. She responds to him with vigor and life and he drinks it in as if he will never get more. I let her go and move away a little as my nephew’s hands roam all over the body of the young girl who I love so much. My blood is racing through my veins and my body sweats with heat as my heart is ripped into little shreds of self-loathing and my thoughts splinter into fragments of madness. Her whispers flow but they are no longer for me as Mateo’s hands make her feel. She arches and bucks against his fingers as he touches her pussy.
It’s mine. I don’t want to let her go.
Stopping is no longer an option as I pull her towards me; the two bodies move closer and her back is flush against my front as Mateo kisses every inch of her body. Another kind of anger washes through me watching him touch her, a kind I don’t quite understand.

“Love me and I will stay forever. It’s only real if I can feel it.”
She is whispering again, torturing me with her devil voice and my hands join the dance with his. Mateo’s eyes are alive with need as she reaches out to touch him; this will be the time it either falls apart and goes to hell, or he will give in and let go of his fear. “What are you doing?” he hisses at her, grabbing her hands. My sweet little love fights back, pulling her hand free and grabbing his cock. Her fist tightens and so does his expression. He gives up. The boy finally gives in, letting her pleasure him, and my hands stay on her as I talk into her ear the way she does to me, fueling the need inside of her. Their bodies being to move together and she is finding what she needs from him and setting his demons free. When I look down, I see them joined together as he slides his cock inside her.
She is mine, but I shouldn’t love her. I shouldn’t watch him love her either.
I roll away and face the wall as too many truths are whispering to me, her voice is like a dagger to my heart every as fucking whisper stabs me with the truth of what I have done.

Please love her, Mateo. Don’t hurt her. I cannot say goodbye to her. No one can be saved from that goodbye.

“Lettie, if I love you, you can never go,” Mateo croons in her ear as he slowly grinds himself deeper into her. I can only feel them moving behind me, I can no longer look. The sounds alone are pure torture. My body reacts with arousal and rage and I am confused and every cell in my body hurts.
The truth hurts.
My truth will fucking kill us all if I let it.

“I won’t go, you already love me,” she whispers back to him. “I felt it, so it’s real.” More insanity spills out of her mouth and I cover my ears to try to block it out. I block it out.
The truth is ugly, Caesar. You are not a good man. She is just a girl. Say goodbye, say fucking goodbye. Stop this now. Say goodbye to them all. Caesar, you are a murderer, just kill them now.

The whispers are murdering me and I slide down so I can escape from the bottom of the bed and I run away, naked and stripped bare of all my lies. But the whispers follow as my hands cover my ears, desperate to silence the demons.

Delicious misery unfolded before the jealous beast.

Beating hearts thrashed faster as he prayed for a wicked release.

One thing I always
wanted to know about those that I loved; their secrets, fears, and dreams. I would never get them because their flaccid lips sealed them away. Their lifeless bodies and blank minds would never provide them to me. I was always okay with that because I had them where I wanted them. Unable to run away from me. Unwilling to break me. Caesar heard them though as they pleaded for death to escape an unworthy, disgusting and brutal life. An existence made up of misery and pain. I think I see what dreams are as I stare at Lettie’s naked, curled up body on the cold floor.

She screamed for it. She cried out for her desire to be granted.
Death. Love.
They are a world parallel to one another. You can’t feel one without the other. It isn’t possible. I haven’t heard truths from lips before. It’s something I always feared, but Lettie is in the middle of the storm. The beautiful eye of the most dysfunctional fucking storm. I want to split her skull open, watching the red escape from her brain as she melts away to nothing. I’d admire her olive skin fading away to grey as the grace she once had depletes to nothing. Her warm skin would be cold, enveloping me in my fiery madness. I want to climb inside of her head and sleep with her dreams. I want to put her fears to rest. I want to be the man that does that. I can’t have life and death this time. My mind and heart won’t allow it. It isn’t the kind of man that I am. I am shaped for merciless love. The kind that doesn’t hurt me. I murder, fuck, love for a short time, and retreat, keeping a small token of the moments that they played with me like the dollies I used to adore so much. Their soft strands cry out to me every night from a shelf like a thousand heartbreaks, a million ones that I never suffered from because I ran and they didn’t. I let go of the love before they could, before I could be abandoned and hurt.

My past and present circle around, making my heart constrict. Anxiety creeps up my spine as I feel the impending sensation of disorder. I don’t like not having control. I need it in my life in straight symmetrical lines. Unmoving. Pretty, little, stationary lines and order is what keeps me happy. I am my own freedom. I keep it, but something about Lettie tugs at my heart at this moment as I carry her from the floor, showing her a side that even I am unfamiliar with. I play the only way that makes sense. To make them come undone. I have cards. I always have. It’s my turn to play them.

When she looks at me through blinking lively eyes, my emotions fuck with me. I hate it, but I’m compelled to crave more. I need to know what she dreams of. What her visions of tomorrow hold as her lungs continue to provide oxygen to a body that she begs to be freed from. I want to be the tourniquet that squeezes her tiny little neck, breaking her from the barriers of love and pain. They are the fucking same. I know what it is like. I can give it to her. I would give it to her if she asks me. She wants to be saved and for the first time, I want to be saved too. But men like me can’t be pulled from such wreckage. Bent, charred, dysfunctional beasts can’t be molded into something else. I am who I am. I thought I had accepted it, but when a second chance stares at me in the face, my demons and fears are brought to the surface with destructive force.

“Do you have dreams, Lettie?”
I whisper, secretly imagining what her cold pussy would feel like while I fuck her dead and limp body.

I zero in on her neck, watching as the pulse of life increases from my words. It is taking everything in my power not to wrap my hands around her neck while whispering to her that I would give her what she wants, what she needs. A glorious goodbye from this fucked up world. I feel like a ton of dynamite is about to explode in my gut. Bad things are sure to happen if she doesn’t speak soon. I want her to give my toxic heart what it craves as I provide her lonely, distorted and broken heart what it wants. Death is divine. I can make her feel that.

“I want a kiss from death.”
Her voice radiates in my fucked up brain, swirling about in the most glorious dance. I want to pin her to the mattress to feel her warm lips just one more time before I suck her vibrancy away, but something screams no. Second chances are meant for trying. No matter what, someone will end up dead, burning in the fires of the hell that we created, all because this beautiful little darling held onto something she should have never believed in.

Love.

I feel my insides shaking and I need a release before I murder her. I kiss her goodnight and walk out with my cock hard. I twitch, needing the whispers of the heartbreaks of the hurtful goodbyes I took. But I can’t take again. Not tonight. Instead, anger washes over me like a mile high waterfall.

I pop my tattooed fingers, ready to inflict damage on my little bitch. I walk up to Juan’s sleeping area. He’s lying on top of his bed like a little boy who is praying to find dreams that do not exist.
Stupid fucking boy.
I clench my jaw with sweet anticipation of damage coming closer to me with each step that I take. My feet plant themselves hard on the concrete floor and Juan stirs, but doesn’t wake as he remains in a peaceful sleep.

I don’t know why his life is important; rather, I don’t know why I want to kill him. I kill those that I love. I don’t love him. I don’t fear him leaving me. Instead, he pisses me the fuck off. Killing for hatred is something I am not used to, as the thought of jealousy courses through my icy veins. My plan will work. It has to work. Whispers make the man go crazy. She will get him and he will fall apart in my arms. I will love her. But will loving her make her dead, too? Does that leave me alone?

I make them leave before they can leave me.

I repeat it over and over again in my head as rage consumes me. Juan continues to enjoy his peaceful sleep.

“Puta! Get up!” I yell, kicking the bed.

A devious grin splays on my face. I will be everything but gentle as thoughts of blowing his body to bits washes over me. Juan shoots up out of bed, naked and already hard.
Silly boy was probably dreaming about his master. Bet he wished he chose death with the Goodbye Man over life now.

“Yes-“ I interrupt him with a slap to the face. Little cunt should have learned from the last time. No speaking unless spoken to.

“Thought you would have learned the last time you little cunt. Don’t talk to me.”

He’s crying, actually fucking crying as my spiteful words leave my mouth and plant themselves inside of him. How incredible it is to watch as I strip every bit of humanity from this boy before me. Disruption is thick in the air, only fueling my unease as Ophelia’s face haunts me while I think about the only second chance that I have. It doesn’t make sense. Nothing makes sense. Life was planned out and I never had to think past what I was doing before Lettie.

Now, everything has changed.

Juan continues to cry as he brings his skinny little knees up to his heaving chest. His face is wet from his cries and snot is coming from his nose. He’s rightfully scared. The actions that I never thought I was capable of are being birthed this very night. It isn’t entirely my fault. The boy was given a choice between life and death. He chose life. This is what he was delivered to. This is what he is to endure. He sails the fucking ship of being my bitch. He may sob, but he likes it as I peek between his legs to see his hard cock. Pride swells in my chest as I clench my fists at both sides, ready to strike him down and strip him down further to nothingness.

“I hate when you fucking make noises. And your face looks like shit. Wipe that disgusting snot away,” I seethe, clicking my belt loose.

I whisk the leather strap away and he jumps away. I provide him with another warning glare and he brings his shaking arm up to his nose, wiping it. Surprise is a beautiful thing. The element of not knowing what will happen next as an emotion can change in an instant is something that makes my heart thud deeper and deeper into a psychotic tailspin. Control makes me content. Knowing I can make someone terrified, having them willing and able beneath me makes me ravenous.

Fuck, maybe I am the one that will not make it out alive.

“Lay down on your back, bitch!” I bring my free hand above my head so he knows how serious I am.

He lays down on his back, humiliated as his enjoyment from before is exposed to nothing in front of me. His cock is hard as I degrade him. He craves it. I bring the leather belt over my head, seeing his cock twitch in anticipation.
Stupid cunt. I will bare you down to fucking nothing. You will be nothing.
I strike his dick with the leather belt and he screams out in beautiful agony. The meeting of pain and pleasure collides in undeniable synchrony as another beast is born.

I hit him again in hard, quick successions, watching as his cock bounces back to life with each thrust of the belt. Juan is holding onto the bed sheets like his life depends on it. A life so meaningless and dependent. He still enjoys it. He isn’t quite there yet, reaching the pits of rock bottom blackness. Maybe I am doing this out of anger, but something tells me I am also doing this for other reasons. For him to beg me to die. Fuck it. I try to quit deciding all the shit in my head and I spot a shiny, stainless steel flashlight on his nightstand. Little fucker goes around snooping around at nighttime when he isn’t supposed to. Maybe this is a lesson that he deserves.

I clench my teeth together, wishing it was his cock as I bite his flesh away from his body.

“Hands and knees, you piece of shit. Now.”

He assembles himself on his hands and knees, his ass pushing towards me, begging to be punished. I walk over to the nightstand and grab the flashlight with a devious grin full of hatred, years of fucking hatred. I clench the cool metal in my hands and walk behind Juan, inching his knees further apart.

“Have you gotten there yet, stupid cunt? To the bottom?”

He doesn’t answer me. Instead, he shakes. I take the shiny flashlight to the entrance of his asshole and push. I am met with resistance, but that doesn’t stop me. He screams out. This is the part where I want him to fight me. Resist the pain then plead to be sucked away from this life and thrown into the darkness. Yet, he remains in the position, only verbalizing cries. He is willing. My anger is peaked and I prod the metal flashlight into his asshole; his excruciating yells splinter my ears and send rage to my gut.

Give up you little cunt! Your screams won’t stop me.

My eyes are met with the most beautiful color; red. Red liquid covers the once silver plating of the flashlight as my movements grow faster. His cries calm, which confuses me greatly. I need a release as my cock throbs uncontrollably while I am met with the tornado of emotions and disorder that I hate so much.

After several more minutes of stroking the metal into his ass without his pleas of giving up, I release it and he falls onto his stomach atop the mattress. A crazed laugh is freed from my mouth.

“You think I am done with you? Get on your knees and suck my fucking dick, perra!”

Juan moans, turning over to crawl out of the bed and onto the cold floor. The tears of a retreat that I have begged for aren’t there. His eyes are void of anything. I am confused, but if I don’t get off soon, someone will end up dead. Not from my fear of them running, but out of hatred. I don’t like that. That means disruption. Disruption and chaos are unwelcome in my life, but I can’t stop it.

I jack my hard cock as Juan makes his way over to me. My boy, my little bitch. He opens his mouth and his inability to move faster is pissing me off. I grab onto the back of his head, forcing him to take me to the back of his throat. He gags, but I don’t care. I need this more than I need to breathe. I continue to hold onto his head, controlling my rough and quick thrusts into his mouth, fucking his mouth like a frenzied, famished beast.

I close my eyes to seek peace and pray for an answer through this madness. The face of my second chance appears; so fucking beautiful… so fucking
alive
. I fly high, letting go as I scream out for her mercy, knowing that my heart won’t be able to say no to her.