Chapter 5: White-Hot Rage

Back when I was with Stephanie, I bent over backward to please her, yet she sneaked off and got into Sullivan's car behind my back.  Now I had caught them in the act. She was a goddess to me, but a plaything to him. Thinking of Leila and then looking at Stephanie, I finally understood what that saying meant. When I touched Stephanie, her whole body went soft. Feeling how sensitive she was, I clamped my hand around her ankle and pinned her under me. "Andy, don't," Stephanie said, still struggling. I did not want to hear a word from her. I hadn't unleashed it on Leila, and with Stephanie under me, I didn't hold back. I unbuckled my belt, my face contorted. I hated to admit it, but the way she looked right then stoked the beast in me. In no time, I had stripped her bare. I did not hesitate. After that mortifying incident with Leila last time, I watched closely and only pushed in once I was lined up. Stephanie let out a pained whimper. I felt heat close around me, and a moment's resistance that made my gut drop. She winced, her brow furrowing, saying nothing, simply bearing what I did to her in silence. It ended too quickly. I had not lasted; she still wore that expression of pain, and before her features could soften into anything else, I had already finished. Afterward, I did not pull away at once. Stephanie had gone very quiet. She lay there with tears glistening in her eyes. Maybe it was my imagination, but in that instant, I felt the weight of her hurt sit like a stone in my chest. Seeing her like that, I could not stay inside her another second. I lifted myself off her. As I stood, my gaze flicked across the sheet and caught the crimson bloom there.  Stephanie yanked the covers up on reflex and covered herself, then looked at me with a chill in her voice. "Are you satisfied?" She was a virgin? I froze. I had thought Sullivan had already slept with her more than once. Otherwise, why would he be so rough with her, pinning her to the bed and spanking her? But the scarlet mark on the sheet was no illusion. Looking at Stephanie, so quiet and somehow heartbreaking, I felt a wrench of guilt and said, "Steph, I'm sorry." "You do not owe me anything. I owed you," she said, eyes cold. "But now we are even. From here on out, you go your way, and I go mine." She finished, got dressed under the covers, and left. I was alone, staring at that stark white sheet with its crimson bloom for a very long time. Damn it. She was still a virgin. Who knew I could do something so stupid? Guilt chewed at me. I kept telling myself that I'd doted on her for three years; even if I hadn't taken her virginity today, Sullivan would have. Even if that was true, the knot in my chest did not loosen. I had forced myself on her. "Fuck." I swore under my breath, grabbed a pair of scissors, and cut the bloodstained section out of the sheet. I cut out a section about the size of a dinner plate, folded the piece of sheet with the bloodstain, slipped it into my pocket, and left in a rush. Whatever else, that stain marked Stephanie's first time. I'd better take it with me. If Sullivan found out, he would probably kill me. Imagine it: spending a fortune trying to win her over, only for some nobody to be the one to take her virginity at the finish line.  Anyone would blow a gasket. The rest of the day, I drifted, jumpy and hollow, even half ready to run. Stephanie had lost her virginity. Sullivan would demand to know what happened. If she ratted me out, even with Leila in the picture, Sullivan would have me killed. The thought rattled me. I asked my manager for the rest of the day off, saying I wasn't feeling well. He was cool about it and approved it right away. I left the club and decided to find Leila. There were things at home that needed sorting.  After my dad's leg injury, he could only work as a security guard at a factory, making about $1200 a month. My mom had to tend our small plot, and my little sister was in high school in the city. We were in the red and sinking. "No matter what, I got a video of Sullivan and Stephanie," I told myself, "Leila will pay me for it." I was truly at a dead end. Otherwise, I would never have thought of handing that video to Leila, especially after I had just taken Stephanie's first time. The guilt sat like lead. "Forget it. Once I get the money, I will leave this city. To hell with Sullivan Showyer, to hell with Stephanie Zimmerman. None of it will have anything to do with me," I thought. At Leila's place, I rapped lightly on the door a few times. No answer. I figured she was out, so I took a key from my pocket. She had given it to me before I started at the club, telling me to stop by often for meals. Meeting Leila in this strange city had warmed me more than I liked to admit. Apart from that embarrassing scene in the kitchen, I had treated her like an aunt. I unlocked the door and set a bag of fruit on the table. I was pulling out my phone to ask when she would be back when a sound drifted from the bedroom, low and unmistakable. I did not think. I walked straight over and pushed the door open. We both froze.  Leila held a pink wand in her hand, and it was buzzing between her thighs. Her legs went rigid with pleasure. Judging by the timing, I'd walked in just as she climaxed. She was naked from the waist down. She wore an oversized, lightweight shirt on top, which, if anything, made the scene more tantalizing, half hidden, half revealed like a beauty behind a veil.  I'd never seen a woman use an electric toy in front of me. I couldn't look away. The rush of pleasure seemed to wipe her mind clean. She didn't even look at me. Her body arched, taut as she trembled.