Stuck | 18+

Chapter 44

It seemed impossible.

Had his issues with Donavan been so deep that he considered doing something so unforgivable?

"Killing him was wise" Donavan stated, gently interwining his hands through her hair as they dangled off the handles of chair.

It indeed was. It proved to Auclairs that no matter who the snitch would be, Frantinos kept no room for forgiveness. For them, disloyalty was a liability that was never endured inertly. If anything at all, it strengthened Frantino's relationships with Auclairs. There was no space for misunderstandings now. The baseless snitch was caught and killed.

But this part of truth was only for the underworld that thought of Dominic as a disloyal bastard. Their unawareness of his potential to be a brutal rapist was legendary.

The confidential piece of information only revolved inside the family, like toxic gas in holocaust. Everyone found it difficult to come upon acceptance that Dominic had died for his attempt of rape. As much as embarrassing to gulp the fact was, they had pushed it down their throats, finding miniscule comfort in knowing that the secret remained only in family.

Tara eventually rested her head back on his chest, feeling tired. She couldn't believe the dead man had went to the ends of atrocity to get things his way.

"How are his parents?" She whispered.
"In denial"

Ofcourse they were.

They would be the last ones to believe his evil doings. If anything, they were busy blaming Tara for the loss of their only son. He had died of shame, snatching every piece of dignity he could have left behind.

She exhaled, nor sure how to feel anymore but she knew in the corner of her mind that she was relieved. It was alleviating to know that she wasn't the sole reason for his demise. His side fishy businesses were catching up on him too. She had merely hastened  what was already coming for him.

Out of nowhere she felt the need to say something, something she wanted to say way earlier. Looking up at him she found his eyes already on her, studying the dips and hollows of her face curiously. He watched the curve of her lips moving as her soft voice came, hesitant of its intention.

"Thankyou"

His eyebrows furrowed, of anything he had expected a thankyou. Protecting his wife was his job, possessiveness and insecurities was his nature, his secretly growing obsession was a grave problem and he owned all of it. He couldn't help but feel insulted. Before he could retaliate with a lecturing speech he felt her hand reaching to the back of his neck, softly pulling him closer.

When there lips touched, he forgot anything and everything, his anger, his rage, his stress, his restlessness, his thoughts, his very existence. He realised what he had lacked all along, he realised how everything could be  blurred in the background with a simple interwine of lips.

Pulling her closer he deepened the kiss, feeling the fraction between their clothes, the soft clicking of their lips, her gentle hold on his neck that slowly traveled in his hair, pulling them unconsciously.
It was wonderfully disasterous how the woman had changed his life, turning it like a car over and over until he had fell down the cliff of nothingness, fulfillment and everything in between.

He pushed his tongue in her mouth, eager to taste her essence. Their ragged breaths accompanied the sound of exuberant lips, lifting the temperature up. His hold tightened on her waist, pulling her closer than she already was,  his hand snicking inside her dress, tracing her inner thighs.

She sensed as his movements became harsher, needing more than what she was willing to give. She meekly pushed on his shoulder, pulling him out of the momentary euphoria.
And just like that, everything came back, lining tasks, ticking clock, files, family, death, business, rain. As if someone had dragged him out of his ephemeral heaven into the graveyard of ghosts, he came back to reality.
"I...I...dont know...I feel sleepy...I should go" she said, looking anywhere but his eyes.
He hummed, watching as her face flushed with embarrassment, as if she had never kissed him before, as if she had never screamed her god's name when he pounded in her before.
Gently pushing the lose strand behind her ear, he loosened his grip on her waist, letting her go when he wanted anything but to.

He realised she'd either bring his everything to an end or end up being his everything and he never wished to know what prior felt like.

As he watched her quietly leaving the room, strings pulled in his heart, hurting where it never hurt, as if he had allowed a part of him to distance itself, creating a hole once where she had been. He already missed the warmth of her body, the taste of her tongue, the smell of her hair, the touch of her skin.

He smiled as his thumb caressed his lower lip, remembering the magic of her lips on it moments ago. In the vulnerable raw  moment he realised simple things. Simple as acknowledging that She mattered. She mattered more than he had originally planned to, more than anyone had ever mattered in his worn out mechanical life, but lastly she mattered, sometimes, more than he, himself, did.

Despite the hellhole he felt himself stuck in, replaying terrible events day after another, worsening each second, his smile deepened at the thought of her, just her. Her eyes, her determination, her innocence, her ways. And it all came like a giant meteor colliding on the surface of still water, splashing everything, everywhere in a painfully slow motion, sending waves after waves of realization that just how deeply, hopelessly he had fallen in love with her.
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Author's note: oh god...