Lost Highway(23)

“Claim me,” I say, staring into his dark eyes. “Make me forget everyone before you. Demand I only see you. You’re a man, and you need to make me belong to only you.”

Quill responds immediately. His hips drive harder into me, and the head of his cock beats steadily against my cervix. If he could f*ck me harder or deeper, he would, but my body can’t take more of his flesh.

A voice in my head says I don’t deserve this pleasure with Quill. I’ve committed a sin too dark to enjoy even a moment of happiness. They tell me to deny Quill and pay my debt. As long as I’m happy, I’ve done wrong by Athena.

“No,” I tell the voice. “I’ve paid for my sin, and I won’t give him up.”

Quill doesn’t react to my words. His head rests against the wall. His eyes are closed. His hips pump mercilessly. He’s close to an orgasm. I see the way his gut muscles tense and feel his cock thicken.

“Claim me, Quill. I want to be blind to every man before you. Make me worship you. Make me yours.”

When he lets loose, the room shakes with the power of his rage and passion. He howls my name, both exalting and cursing me with one word. I can’t handle the pressure of his desire and cry out his name in relief.

Wrapping my arms around him, I hold onto his thrashing body. He’s in a state of violent awakening. Much like how his seed fills me with his ferocious arousal, a warm and welcoming freedom washes over my heart.

To make myself worthy of caring for Quill, I must forgive myself for wronging Athena. All of these years, I’ve denied the urge to soothe my guilt. Never wanting freedom from the pain until suffering was all I understood.

Now, for Quill, I let go of the shame and grief to make room in my heart for him.





Chapter Twenty-Four


Odessa




Quill sleeps for what might be the first time since he arrived in the Lost Highway. I peek into the back room to find him collapsed on the bed where I left him. He doesn’t stir when I open the door.

I wish I could join him. My fingers ache to touch his hot skin. My lips want to brush against his temple the way I did the night before when I told him everything would be all right.

Rather than disturb him, I walk down to the basement to find cleaning supplies. The voices greet me with promises of death and misery. I ignore them and return upstairs. Outside the cabin, a thick fog blocks my view of the woods.

Quill once told me how I shouldn’t stare into the fog unless I wanted to see what haunted me. Based on his wording, he was quoting Tom. I wondered if Quill ever chanced the warning and looked into the fog. I sensed nothing haunted him before last night. Now I’m unsure what remains of the man I first met.

Feeling brazen, I tempt fate and stare into the fog. Nothing looks back at me at first. Then I notice movement in the gray mass. Athena’s face appears, missing flesh and revealing bone.

“Odessa,” she whispers, calling out to me. “Why, Odessa?”

“Because I was young and stupid,” I tell her. “I would take it back, but I can’t. There’s no way to return to that moment and save you.”

“You killed me.”

“I have to let you go.”

“You let me go then too. You let me die.”

“I’m sorry, Athena. The real you would know how sorry I feel, and she would forgive me. I know you’re not her. You’re the evil in the Lost Highway, but I don’t hate you for showing her to me. I don’t hate me for what happened anymore. You’ll have to torment me with something else next time.”

Wiping away my tears, I close the curtains and walk to the CD player where I turn on Charlie Daniels. Once I fill a bucket with water and carry it to my old room, I open the door and adjust to the stench.

I decide to start cleaning in the bathroom where I wash away the blood and goo. When the bucket’s water turns foul, I replace it and continue working. The CD finishes twice before I feel Quill behind me.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a voice rough from sleep.

“I’m cleaning.”

“Why?”

“So it’ll be clean.”

“Does that mean you plan to sleep in here again?”

“No. I like the couch better.”

“Then why clean?” he asks, now angry.

I look at him and find his expression stuck somewhere between enraged and exhausted.

“This isn’t Tom’s cabin anymore. I want to wash away what reminds me of him.”

Quill says nothing for a long time before grabbing my arm and yanking me to my feet. “If you want to clean up after old Tom, you better get started in his trophy room.”

Dragging me out of the room and down the hall, he unlatches the door to where Tom kept his trophies. I think I know what to expect, but the sight of such horror still shocks me. I reach for Quill, but he shoves me inside and locks the door.

“These poor people,” I whisper, looking over the shelves of body parts floating in jars.

I don’t beg Quill to open the door. I refuse to listen to the voices asking me to join them. They show me a nearby blade and ask me to open my throat. They promise me everything, but I give them nothing in return.

Quill opens the door and stares at me. Although his face is concealed in the shadows, his mood is evident. He wants me to break. If I’m insane, he can save me and be the one in control. Otherwise, he’s only a man lost in a lifetime’s worth of strange emotions.