Taboo Unchained(6)

After I shower, I dress myself in a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and go for a jog. I like to run. Running clears my head for a brief moment in time, lets me think without the usual cobwebs shadowing my perception. I always jog by the houses of potential new clients. Nobody notices joggers, but it gives me the chance to take in any information I need. I can practically smell the darkness on others. I'll know right away if this girl, Audra Holiday, will work for me. I don't judge the women on their physical features, but on the way they present themselves. I look for signs that there's something in them besides a desperate need for kink. If there's even a pinprick of this same blackness I carry around on their soul, then I take them. Believe it or not, even Mrs. Braxton has it.

I haven't even broken a sweat by the time I hit Audra's block, slowing down a bit when I notice a car pulling up to the curb. It's a Mini Cooper which I don't like – don't ask, I just don't – but the woman climbing out immediately grabs my attention.

Pale white toes peek out the end of a pair of red heels, leading my eye up to shapely calves, toned thighs and a deliciously dangerous hem on a black dress. The woman that follows has a curvy body with perky breasts, a sad smile, and a serious problem: she's with a man. I frown as he follows after her, climbing out the passenger side and stumbling dangerously on the sidewalk.

“You're going to invite me in, right?” he asks as the woman slides her hand along the orange paint of her car, lingering on the driver's side a bit longer than necessary.

I pause, pretending to rest near the stop sign at the end of the block as I take a chug of my water bottle. My throat works in slow, controlled movements as I examine the girl's wavy red hair. It falls softly to her shoulders, floating just above them like clouds in a sunset. My frown eases up a bit. I said I didn't judge clients on their looks, but it doesn't hurt when I find them physically attractive.

“I don't know, Mark,” she says, sounding exactly the opposite. She does know, and she doesn't want Mark to come in. I watch surreptitiously, waiting to see how this whole thing will play out. The girl – who I simply assume is Audra Holiday – tucks her hair behind her ear and watches Mark with eyes the color of kelp, a deep dark green that draws my gaze in and works my body into a violent frenzy. Yes, I think. I will have this woman as a client. It's not often that I have such a visceral reaction to a woman. I turn away, deciding I have enough information to make my decision, when I hear an enraged growl from behind me.

I spin to find Mark coming around the back of the car, stumbling like the drunken fool that he is. His unkempt facial hair and watery brown eyes make me sick to my stomach. I dislike weak men. I pause and lift my chin, letting the wind work its cool fingers through my dark hair.

“You drove me all the way back here and now, what, am I supposed to call a fucking cab?” he snarls, slamming his palms into the rear windshield of the Mini.

“I changed my mind. I'm sorry. Go home, Mark,” Audra says, backing up onto the sidewalk and pausing with her purse in one hand, legs slightly splayed, pulse working furiously at her throat. This is when I see it, when it just strikes me so hard that I almost stumble. Darkness. I see it there in her face, in the stance of her body. Her voice is soft, almost deceptively weak, but I can feel the true rage in it. My tongue flickers over my lips as my balls tighten and my cock threatens to release in my pants. “You basically begged me to give you a ride over here. I never promised you anything, and even if I did, I have a right to change my mind.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” Mark slurs, moving back around the hood of the car and getting in Audra's face. I take a step forward – I dislike weak men, but men who hurt women needlessly infuriate me – and Audra's eyes flicker my way. When she sees me, she freezes and something passes between our gazes, a slice of dark energy that nearly staggers me. Mark takes advantage of this moment to slam his palms into her chest, knocking her backwards over the short cement wall and onto the upward slope of grass. When he grabs her by the hips and pulls her towards him, Audra reacts by letting her body go limp. I watch in mounting frustration as she lays there, eyes pointed up at the sky and does nothing.

The darkness affects us all in different ways. In Audra, it's convinced her to give up and give in to a terrible fate of meaninglessness and pain.

My feet are moving before I can stop myself. My hands grab Mark by the shoulders and toss him back against the Mini Cooper. I don't hold back when I hit him; why should I? My face never shifts expressions, and my body still stubbornly refuses to break a sweat. I crack Mark's jaw with a well-placed punch, bruise his belly with another hit, and toss him to the pavement like a bag of last week's trash. I kick him one more time for good measure, and turn back to find Audra lying still on the lawn, legs dangling over the cement wall. She makes no move to stand up or to look at me, so I reach down, grab Mark by the legs and drag him around the corner.