Depraved, p.12
Depraved, page 12
How dare he.
Before I could say anything else, Daddy continued, “I like keeping tabs on my daughter and the men she whores herself out to. This one is a piece of work. If he weren’t a rich kid, he would be sucking cock in a prison.”
I ignored his insulting comment about Crispin. It was a low blow that I couldn’t allow to hurt me.
“Why won’t you admit what you did to me?” I hissed, “Why do you insist on torturing me?”
Daddy smiled and his expression softened, nearly making me feel sorry for him.
“Listen, kid. I’m sorry, okay?”
“That’s not enough.”
“Neither is $12,000 apparently,” he said, grinning as he scanned the luxurious plantation kitchen, “I guess I gave you a taste for guys with money.”
I wanted to throw up, but before I could say anything or worse, do something totally stupid, Crispin re-entered the room, scowling.
“Mr. Hewett,” he said stiffly, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the room. Crispin didn’t stop storming off — and forcing me to chase after his long-legged ass — until we got to the Jeep. He swore and swung his leg at the door. I yelped as he dented his car and climbed into the driver’s seat. I mirrored his movements, climbing in on the passenger’s side and reaching for his hand.
“He didn’t do anything to me,” I said, “We’re fine. It’s fine. It’s one Christmas dinner.”
“It is not one Christmas dinner,” he breathed fiercely, “it’s repulsive for them to expect you to sit in the same room as that man.”
“You didn’t tell your grandparents, did you?” I said.
They already low-key hated me, the last thing I wanted was for them to know what Daddy did to me. I was still ashamed. Still hurt. Crispin gripped the steering wheel without starting the car. But he shook his head. He hadn’t told them. His knuckles whitened and I realized he was struggling to calm himself.
I put my hand on his thigh and whispered, “Breathe... just breathe...”
A loud, shrill voice came from the pink plantation door and the loud click of high heels on the pavement sounded like nails on a chalkboard.
“Yoo-hoo! Where are you two off to?”
Chapter 15
Ella Novak in all her freshly-blonde glory rapped on Crispin’s window. He shoved his door open, knocking her over. Ella shrieked.
“Crispin!”
I couldn’t stop him. He was already out of the car. Ella landed in some bushes with a scream.
“You shoved me! That’s assault,” she shrieked.
Crispin loomed over her and snarled, “What are you doing here?”
“I work for the Governor of Texas.”
“As what? His personal hooker?”
“JOHN!” She called, “JOHN!”
The wrong John heard her. John Braithwaite poked his head out from the gardens behind the fountain and wrinkled his nose. Crispin didn’t notice him, but I did. If Crispin wanted to beat Ella’s ass, I wouldn’t stop him this time. After the field hockey stick incident where she attacked me for coming into Crispin’s room in the middle of the night, homegirl was on her own.
John approached us, but he was still a ways off, and was stripping off his work clothes. He probably thought I was the one calling him since her didn’t know Ella and she lay on the ground, too scared to get up as Crispin glared.
“ANSWER ME,” he snarled.
“This is really inappropriate! JOHN!” Ella yelled. I flinched as she called my father’s name again. My heart was pounding and a lump formed in my throat. I didn’t want to stop Crispin, but I didn’t want him to do something that might get him sent to jail.
Crispin snarled, “All the way to Barbados? Didn’t I warn you, Novak?”
“Crispin, please,” she said, “I’m only doing my job. I wanted to say hello to Amina.”
“Everyone at school knows what he did to Amina,” Crispin said, completely ignoring the words coming out of her mouth, “Everyone. And if you insist on going through with this charade, I will be patient, but I will punish you.”
He meant it. I could feel it. A chill ran down my spine.
“Look at you,” Ella said, her mood shifting when she realized she wasn’t going to get her way, “Going so far out of your way for her.”
My stomach dropped. John Braithwaite’s footsteps were louder as he got closer to us. When he finally noticed Ella lying in the bushes, he stepped between her and Crispin, lifting her up and giving Crispin a weird look.
“What’s happening, man? Hello, white girl. John Braithwaite.”
Ella shook him off and snapped, “I didn’t ask for your help.”
“Easy, girl. Easy,” John said, “You called my name.”
He seemed concerned and like he might intervene, but he also knew Crispin even better than I did, so I assume he must have noticed that Crispin was furious.
“Wrong John,” Crispin answered, tersely “We’ll chat later. Okay?”
John knew Crispin well enough to get the message and he flashed me a sympathetic look as if to wish me luck with Crispin. I knew I’d need it.
“Are you sure you don’t need me?”
“I’m sure,” Crispin snapped. John decided to let it go, like he wasn’t worried the situation would escalate. I wasn’t so sure.
“Yes, boss man.”
John shrugged and returned to the gardens, casting a glance over his shoulder at Ella Novak. He probably thought she was pretty. She had blue eyes and with her blond hair, she nearly looked like my mom. John Hewett had a type. At least for his arm candy. I shuddered to think of the things he’d done or said to Ella.
“The fact that you haven’t run off from your current situation and continue to test me tells me you’re either mental or very stupid and I know you’re not stupid,” Crispin said in a low, dangerous voice.
Ella folded her arms and scowled at both of us.
“Stop lying about John,” she said, “That’s all I have to say to both of you. John explained everything that happened and I’ve reached out to the school and to everyone in our year who was there that night. Your attempts to smear his name won’t work thanks to me and Crispin, I’d worry more about having a gold digger for a girlfriend.”
I want to say that I tried to stop Crispin, but I noticed a piece of glitter underneath my fingernails and couldn’t stop staring at it as Crispin lunged for her hair. I ignored Ella’s pleading look, fascinated by the glitter. Where did the glitter come from?
Ella screamed and scrambled back. Crispin allowed her to take her distance, not wanting to work too hard for revenge. At least not yet.
“Watch it,” Crispin warned, “I’m not trying to make your parents’ holiday as shitty as mine has been.”
“Threatening me. How clever,” she sneered.
“Darling, it’s worse than a threat.”
“A murderer and a slut,” Ella responded haughtily. “You know what, maybe you two make a perfect couple.”
Ella stormed off. Crispin turned to me, the anger on his face melting once he caught me in his gaze. He was all soft and gentle again, my warm protector. His hands rushed to my hips and he said slowly, “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Crispin, trust me.”
“John can help me handle this,” he said, “I don’t want you to worry.”
“She said she talked to people at school about this? Is that what he’s having her do? Run PR?”
Crispin shook his head and murmured, “This wasn’t what I wanted from our holiday. We should escape. We could go anywhere together.”
A part of me wanted to say yes. We had a boat. A private jet. I still had money. But I couldn’t let Crispin do that for one important reason. It was the reason he’d come here and although Crispin didn’t like talking about it, I knew him.
“We can’t,” I said, straining my voice because it hurt so badly to admit that I’d have to sleep at least another night in a house with John Hewett.
“Why the bloody hell not?”
“You don’t know why your grandparents had your parents’ bodies exhumed.”
His sullenness returned predictably. His voice scrunched and he tried not to let me notice that his eyes were turning red and capillaries bulged with awareness of the fire pulsing beneath his skin. Rage and grief at once were an awful mix for Crispin.
“I can’t make you stay here for that,” he said, “I’ll find out from them eventually.”
“They won’t tell you over the phone. They hardly want you to talk about your family. Crispin, you’ve saved me so many times. Let me handle myself in there. We can do this together. One more night.”
“Christmas Eve in hell.”
“Exactly. And we’ll fist-fight the devil.”
I pumped my fists and jokingly punched Crispin and he laughed, pulling me close to him and kissing me. He pushed me up against the Jeep and my heart raced as he kissed me. Anyone could see us now. Not just John and Theo or Crispin’s grandparents. But Ella Novak and my parents. Crispin didn’t think about them when he kissed. That was just me. He was entirely focused on my lips, parting them and then pressing his body into mine.
He pulled away from me and his voice trembled, “One night here. It’s so much. How can I ask that of you, Twiggy?”
“Because you saved my life and I know if John Hewett tries anything with me, you’ll kick his ass.”
“Yes,” he said, “But I can’t kick Ella’s arse. She’s a girl.”
“Didn’t you just try?”
Crispin shrugged. “I stopped myself, didn’t I?”
I didn’t understand Crispin’s view of ethics sometimes.
“I can handle Ella,” I said, at least agreeing with him that he shouldn’t hurt Ella more than he had already.
“And your mum?” he asked. “Can you handle her?”
Speak of the devil and he will appear. Ironically, that’s a phrase I got from her.
“Mini-me!” Frances Hewett called from the steps as she raced toward us, huffing in high heels that still couldn’t put her close to Ella’s height. Crispin stopped and his hand darted to mine. We intertwined our fingers and as I stared at Frances Hewett awkwardly ambling toward us, I told myself that together, both of us could do anything. She pressed her hand to her chest. She seemed filled with grief in a way I hadn’t noticed before.
I wanted to feel bad for her, but it wasn’t my job to save her anymore. It shouldn’t have ever been my job. Crispin pulled my body close to his.
“Mrs. Hewett,” Crispin said, sticking his hand out to shake hers politely. “I’m Amina’s boyfriend. Crispin Barclay.”
Chapter 16
“Crispin Barclay. What a lovely name,” mom said, staring at him.
Mom stared past Crispin at me as she put her limp hand in his. Crispin moved closer to me.
“Well,” my mom said, “All these months and that’s it? You’re running off with this boy?”
She didn’t sound impressed, but she didn’t sound angry either. Her eyes were paler than Crispin’s, but the circles around them were much darker. If Mom knew about my last encounter with Dad, she didn’t show it. As usual, she appeared preoccupied with her own issues, namely Dad’s “secretary” that he was obviously flirting with every chance he got.
“We’re not running off,” I said, “We’ll be back.”
“Ella’s a friend of yours from school isn’t she?” Mom asked. “Bless her heart, she’s been a pleasure to have around. She’s really helping your father. Has he told you his big news?”
Crispin moved closer to me, his arm slinking around my waist. My mom broke eye contact with me and stared at Crispin again. I didn’t care what big news my father had to share.
“Ella was just a girl in my dorm,” I said, “She came out to dinner when dad visited.”
“Oh... Right,” she said, like this was the first time she’d heard that he visited me. Maybe she’d forgotten. Either way, I wanted to get out of here, not have an awkward conversation with my mom who hadn’t taken her eyes off Crispin in an uncomfortably long time. Crispin didn’t seem to notice. He stared at my face, searching for the slightest discomfort he could discover in my expression.
“I need a break, Mom. I’ll be back for dinner.”
“Dinner. Bet you can’t wait,” she scoffed. It didn’t sound exactly like a scoff, but I knew her. Crispin didn’t. He offered a polite smile.
“I hope you enjoy the plantation, Mrs. Hewett.”
Crispin gestured towards the Jeep and I followed him into the car. My mother stared at us as he pulled the Jeep away. I threw my head back and groaned.
“This is awful. I’ve spoiled your Christmas,” I whispered, guilt rushing me. Crispin had enough to worry about and I knew he missed his family. A lot. He should be processing his grief, not worrying about my mess.
“Don’t,” Crispin said, his voice heavy with thinly veiled anger. “You haven’t spoiled anything. I just wanted to get you out of there.”
“Thanks.”
“Does she know?”
He probed me, revealing the truth about his current frustration. He didn’t have to be specific for me to understand exactly what he meant by that. Does your mother know that your father abused you? That’s what he was really asking.
“Only about the time he whipped me. I never told her about the other stuff.”
Crispin could tell I was uncomfortable, so he phrased his next question gently. “Do you want to?”
“It would break her,” I whispered.
“I don’t give a damn about her,” Crispin sneered, “What about you? What about Amina Hewett. Look at what he’s doing to you. And what Ella’s doing to you. As for Ella.” He scoffed before muttering, “I’ll handle Ella.”
Goosebumps spread over my thighs. Crispin kept driving and scowling until we got to the boat again. The boat where we slept with each other for the first time rocked against the dock.
“I don’t want John Hewett getting off this island alive,” Crispin murmured. “Now’s our chance, isn’t it? He’s here. He doesn’t have security. No one could prove that I did it.”
I didn’t enjoy listening to Crispin talk about murder. I couldn’t deny the appeal of his idea, but I knew Crispin was a lot more sensitive than he let on. And that he wasn’t a killer. I didn’t want to make him one on my account. John Hewett wasn’t worth it.
“We can’t become murderers.”
“Oh, Twiggy. That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “Everyone already thinks I’m a murderer. But you’re right about your own reputation. That hasn’t been tarnished. So for you… I’ll do anything.”
He took my hand and for a moment, I forgot all about John and Frances Hewett.
“I should tell my mom, shouldn’t I?”
“If you want to, I’ll be here for you. I’ll even come with you, if you want. I understand how hard it is to handle everything alone.” He kissed my cheek. I wouldn’t have believed that statement if anyone else had said it.
“I love you,” I said, “I mean it.”
“I know,” he whispered, “I know you love me. That makes it easy to want to kill him for you. To kill him because he deserves it for hurting you.”
I lunged for Crispin, scrambling over his gearshift and struggling to fit into the driver’s seat along with his enormous body, which struggled to fit in most cars. Crispin grabbed my hips and eagerly pulled me on top of him. His hands were large enough that they nearly wrapped around my waist completely. I grabbed his face and pulled it to mine, running my fingers along his jawline as my hips ground into him. Crispin’s hands slid to my butt and he grabbed a firm handful of my cheeks and made a low growl in his throat as he pulled me close.
“Maybe this is what we need,” he whispered.
I nodded, practically bursting with desire. Screw everyone at that plantation. Crispin’s hands rushed to his belt urgently. He didn’t stop staring at me as the buckle pressed into my thighs and his shorts slid down a few inches. I braced myself against his chest and struggled to wriggle out of my shorts. Crispin helped me out of them and by then, his shorts were off a few more inches too. Neither of us cared that there might be someone around us.
Crispin grabbed the small of my back this time and murmured, “You’re so tiny, Twiggy. You’d have to be a monster to hurt a precious little thing like you.”
I reached between his legs for the monstrous trunk Crispin dragged around everywhere. I liked the feeling of his big dick. I knew people didn’t think small girls like me could enjoy a big dick but they were 100% wrong. I liked the shape of his dick. The thickness was perfect. The large veins that traveled up the sides and the way it turned pink when Crispin was really hard made his dick 100% perfect to me. I’ll say it!
Crispin groaned as I grabbed onto it.
“That’s hot,” he said, “Really hot.”
“I want you.”
“Condom. Glove compartment.”
Crispin held my hips so I could reach for it and I rolled the condom onto his dick while he groaned.
“That is... torture. Come.”
He pulled me against him and pressed the tip of his hardness against my entrance. I grabbed onto his biceps, thick and muscular enough to be handled for me as the tip eased its way inside me slowly. I could barely fit it inside me. I moaned and Crispin’s eyes snapped open really wide.
“You are so tight... Am I hurting you?” he whispered.
I shook my head. No, white boy. I want more of this big dick inside me.
Crispin slowly pressed another inch inside me. He threw his head back as he groaned and I pressed my lips to his neck, pushing his long blond hair out of the way as he held me against him.
“I love you,” he whispered, “I love how tight you are...”
He eased his hips up and I cried out as Crispin’s girth spread my legs lewdly around him, the only way his big dick could fit. He grabbed onto a handful of my hair and moved my head so he could kiss my neck. We pawed at and kissed each other until Crispin had his entire cock inside me. His thighs were wet and I was soaked, ready for him to move inside me. I knew if he moved an inch, the slightest rubbing from his cock inside me would make me cum really hard.
