Taboo Unchained(10)

Five stops later and Mark is tromping down the aisle, sliding past me with wide eyes and a wary look. When I don't make any move to follow after him, he relaxes, walking down the street at a rapid trot. I wait just long enough that I get a dirty look from the driver when I stand up, taking off after Mark, not surprised to catch him standing in front of Audra's house, smoking yet another cigarette.

A scowl ripples across my lips as I shake out my hands. What a dirty habit. I absolutely despise cigarettes. The smell, the wrinkles around the mouth, the yellow teeth. It all just makes me think of my father. A pathetic, miserable man if the world had ever seen one. Much like Mark, each breath of air that man took was wasted on walking, talking human garbage. If I were a better man, I'd dedicate my life to weeding the scum from the garden of the world. Instead, I indulge only myself. Perhaps I am doing a bit of good, but I assure you it's all circumstantial. My motives are purely selfish.

Mark knocks at the door with a hard fist, adjusting his dirty white sweatshirt and swiping his arm across his face. The fact that he's standing here today only further confirms what an excellent target he's going to make. After all, I warned him yesterday and he chose not to listen. Doing so has sealed his fate. Mark and I are going to go all the way – and I don't mean romantically. By the time the sun sets this evening, he'll no longer be wasting the earth's limited resources.

I'm not surprised when Audra answers the door, her red hair hanging around her face in crimson slashes. Her full mouth is slathered with a brown lipstick and her eyes are drenched in too much shadow. But she's still beautiful, one of the most aesthetically pleasing women I've ever had the pleasure to gaze upon. I toss my suit jacket into the bushes, removing my wallet and cuff links from my pocket and tucking them inside. If they're still here when I get back, fantastic. If not, they can be replaced. I have more important things to worry about.

I can't hear what Audra says from down here, but I see that she willingly invites Mark in, her kelp green eyes pausing on the street with a longing cast, like she's throwing fishing line out into the world and hoping for a bite. Lucky for her, she's got one. And free of charge, too.

As soon as the white front door closes behind Audra, I move to the opposite side of the front yard, taking a quick look over my shoulder for nosey neighbors. At this moment, in this neighborhood, most everyone is at work. My lip twitches. I doubt their work involves whips, spankings, or sex swings like mine does. Without bothering to conceal myself, I move down the sidewalk and up the grass on the far end of Audra's yard. At this point, it would be far, far easier to call one of my clients and give them what they're so desperately begging for, but even the thought riles my psyche up into a frenzy. It might also end as badly for them as it's going to for Mark. No need to risk it, especially not when my prey is in sight.

I climb up the grassy hill towards Audra's house, crouching low under the windows, until I get to the backyard. There's a white picket fence with an unlocked gate that I let myself into. No sooner do I round the corner of the house when I come face to face with Audra Holiday herself.



“I'm not often caught,” I tell her with a slight twitch of my lips. I tilt my head to the side and examine the unkempt red of her hair, the overdone makeup, the skintight dress. The words are truth, but my smile is not. I feel infuriated. Irate. I want to smash my fist into the yellow wood siding of Audra's house. But I don't. That just wouldn't be me. Lucas Carter doesn't have fits of rages. He controls his anger, channels it into the sheets, thrusts it away with each perfectly coordinated movement of his hips. Occasionally, he takes it out on human garbage, like 'Mark'.

But I also hate being interrupted. My fingers curl tightly at my sides.

“Caught doing what?” she asks, seemingly oblivious in her apathy. I see right through it, deep down to the places where sun never shines, where her heart weeps with each breath she takes. I see it. “Aren't you a prostitute or something?” Audra glances over her shoulder and then turns back to me. I imagine she's eager to keep Mark from finding us out here. Why, I don't know. Maybe he's more to her than I previously thought? Not just a date or a random fuck. A boyfriend perhaps? The thought amalgamates my insides until the only organ present is the pulsing beat of my disgust. A massive lump of irritation and anger taking over my innards.

“Prostitute?” I cock my head to the side and keep smiling. There's a lovely garden back here, cedar boxes lined with perfect rows of green, mulched beds of flowers, cheery and in full bloom. It's almost as carefully planned a front as my yard. Or Pamela's four children. Or Mrs. Braxton's happy marriage. Falsities groomed for the sole purpose of hiding all of that pain, that darkness, that ridiculously tumultuous bit of self that the world simply refuses to see. “I believe you've been misinformed.”