#corner store

You stare at a Gregslist posting that you had stumbled upon, trying to find something quick and easy enough that could help with the rent that was already past due. It screamed Gregslist killer, but if it was real maybe you could get out of this shit hole, maybe you could start over with your life.

The only reason you were even in this situation was because you chose to trust the wrong person; you had both moved from your hometown over a thousand miles away to seek your fortune in the cities. You were supposed to look out for one another but they had ditched you, gotten married to someone of some means and peaced out. And without even paying their share of the rent, forcing you to scramble for ends. You were able to scrounge up the money for the first couple years after their departure, by using your saving and the kindness of your family, but you just couldn’t do it anymore.

This wasn’t living, this was surviving; all your dreams had been thrown out the window when they pulled their bullshit stunt. “I just don’t want to struggle anymore,” this is what they said as they packed, neither of you had been truly struggling, not like you are now. Both of your goals had been close enough to touch, and in a year or so they could have accomplished all that they wanted; they just didn’t want to work anymore. Which you could understand, but how could they leave so easily without even asking if you’d be okay? Everyday that you woke up, would be more heartrendingly painful than the next.

Looking over at the empty pantry that you never seem to keep full, to the empty pet bowl to a picture of a pet that you had to surrender to the state just so they wouldn’t go hungry, to the barren décor; what did you even have to lose? At a certain point who even cared if they were a killer? You weren’t living anyway.Hello,

I saw your listing on Gregslist, and would like to audition for the role as your Wife. Attached are a few pictures of me, if I look like your ideal wife give me a call at (XXX-555-2564) hope to hear from you soon.

A day goes by without any answer so you decide to take a peek at the listing again to see when the last time he was on, and your heart sinks immediately.

Either he chose someone else, or (and the most likely reason) it was a fake ad that got taken down. You’re seconds from crying when your phone rings.

“Hello.”

“Yes…”

“Right now…Shades…”

“Yeah I’ll be there in…”

He wanted to meet you at the 24hour diner down the street from your apartment. The fact that he chose to meet you at a place with witnesses, was a positive sign that he wasn’t a serial killer right? It’s so late at night though, it must be hard to navigate life with an allergy to the sun.

You wasted no time getting dressed and walking to the diner where a man stood off to the side with shades, ‘That must be him’ you walk up to greet him.

“Well, hello there Sweetheart.” You can't place where he’s from, he must travel often enough to develop an ambiguous accent. ‘Was that even possible?’ You had been a little taken back by his easy use of endearments, but maybe that was just something he had picked up like the accent.

You don’t know what you were expecting him to look like but this wasn’t quite it. He did look clean and put together, but he dressed like someone over half a decade older than him, it felt like he was trying to prove… maybe even trying to hide something. The only thing that seemed to be out of place on him, were the pair of tinted shades he had on. You wanted to ask about his clothing, but decided against it, the last thing you wanted to do was shame him for his choice in fashion. Not when you were in stuck in such a deep hole, practically begging for help.

Though he must have already realized you were on your last match, you're guessing that's the only reason he placed an ad on gregslist, only a desperate person would reply. It wasn't like he was hideous, it was actually quite the opposite; since he wasn't completely irredeemable in the looks area, this could only mean that he was so morally bankrupt that no one in his circle wanted anything to do with him.

He cleared his throat snapping you of the mental gymnastics your mind was doing, trying to find out what was wrong with this man. “Would you mind inviting me in?” He smiles “One of my many eccentricities that I’m hoping you’ll have the patience for.”

Was this a kink thing? You wave him forward as inconspicuously as you can, not wanting anyone to witness whatever kink play he was having you perform, no matter how small.

He smiles walking past you, he chooses a seat in the back of the dinner where you both sit in silence, until the waitstaff comes around asking to get you refreshments. You could afford enough for a water, so that's what you order, while he orders ¾ a cup of black coffee. As the waitstaff nods and walks away he can't keep his eyes off you.

“The photos don’t do you justice you are quite beautiful.” You nod thanking him for his complement, but couldn’t see what he was seeing. You hadn’t worn anything special to impress him, just what was clean and made sense. You complemented him back, and wondered if it would be too forward to let him know that he made your pussy clench when you first met, or would that be outta pocket?

Before you can think any harder on the subject, the waitstaff comes back around; they place down your drinks and ask you what you’d like to order. You clam up, you couldn't even afford a proper drink, there is no way you'd be able to afford anything on the menu, maybe if you ask for half a piece of toast.

Noticing your inner struggle, he tells the waitstaff that you'd like more time. Lightly brushing his hand over yours he leans in, “Have whatever you want don’t worry about the bill.” Embarrassed but grateful for his discretion, you nod, thanking him for his generosity. And when the waitstaff comes back around you order something that you know that you'll like, not wanting to waste his money.

You watch as he orders something similar. “So… Remmick what do you do for work?” ‘That was a safe enough question right?’ “Restoration and Preservation” he gives you a smile but says nothing else, your not sure how to follow up with that. He seems content to just sit there in silence enjoying the heat coming from his coffee, though he never seems to take a sip.

Neither of you say another word, not even when your food arrives. You wait a second for him to begin eating, but when he just sits there not moving you decide to start without him, not commenting on the lack of bites he takes from his own plate. This seems to have been the correct thing to do, because when you’re finished eating he smiles at you; ‘Was he a feeder? It wasn’t exactly serial killer behavior but you’d think he’d be upfront with something like that.’

When the waitstaff comes back around to take payment, they notice the food still sitting on his plate, they ask if everything was alright, and if they could make him something different. He just waves them off, asking for a to-go container instead, when they come back with his receipt and containers, he thanks and tips them before they walk away.

When you're finally alone again, he slides his untouched plate over to you, handing you the containers. “Here pack this up for me, Darlin’,” you do as your told, packing everything neatly away, even putting the container in the paper bag that was left on the table for it. He nods and smiles, but you're truly confused to what you've done to put him in such an agreeable mood.

“Yea’ I think this” he says pointing between him and you “Is gon’ work out just fine” He flags down a random worker and asks for a pen and paper, he then writes down an address with a date and time. “I’ll have a moving truck pick you up, just be ready.” He pulls out a few hundred dollars, you eye the money with far more hunger than you mean to. Embarrassed you look away, just so he doesn’t see the desperation in your eyes.

He taps his finger on the diner table to get your attention, your head snaps in his direction and behind his shades, you see he has a hunger too just a different kind. “Here’s fir yer time, and don’t you go on tryin’ to pay the movers, they’ve already been compensated, kay?” He hands you the money with the slip of paper on top of it.

You start to get up to leave, but he gently grabs your hand before you can fully get going. “I don't think we ever gave each other our names,” His hands are freezing making you shiver, no wondered he ordered that coffee. You tell him your name and he nods picking up the bag of left overs, with a couple of fingers he hands them to you. “Name’s Remmick, Remmick O’Connell and I think we’ll be gettin’ on just fine.”

You make your way safely home placing your leftovers in the fridge; you weren’t quite sure what to think about Remmick, he was most certainly a weirdo, but you couldn't figure out what kind. A knock comes from your apartment door, and your heart droops; did he follow you home? Great now he was going to kill you and take his money back, you were going to be broke even in the afterlife.

You quickly walk over to your door to look through the peep hole, you let out a deep sigh not from being relived but from frustration. Standing front of your door was the owner of the property, they never missed a day to harass you, you open your door but before you have a chance to ask them what they want they begin yelling.

“So you have enough money to eat out but not enough to pay me my money?” You begin to message your temples, “Please I just got home, can’t we talk about this later?” Folding their hands over their chest “Fuck no we can’t talk about this later, small town fucks like you always movin’ to the cities to make it ‘big’, causin’ problems for the locals, cus’ all of a sudden you can’t pay rent, this ain’t in the middle of bum fuck, and rent ain’t two cents and bag of corn!”

Not being able to take it anymore, you slam the door in their face and scream. “Just leave me the fuck alone for the night, I’ll have your money soon, then my small town ass will be outta your hair!” You can hear them sputtering behind the door “Ya! you better have my fuckin’ money, don’t forget I know people!” You scoff, that’s what everyone here said, “I know people” ‘Who the fuck cares!’ You hoped more than anything that everything with Remmick worked out, you don’t think you can do this anymore.

As expected the movers had come in the middle of the night; you told them to move silently as not to wake the neighbors, but in truth you had your own selfish reasons for telling them to be quiet.

What you hadn’t expected was for Remmick to show up in tow.

“Can I come in?” He looks almost giddy.

“Yes, of course please come in, what made you stop by?”

Smiling he steps past the entrance taking a look around, “It occurred to me that you might not have a way to get to me on your own, and having a driver pick you up for me felt too… formal, for our kinda relationship.”

“Thank you, I had planned to hitch a ride with the movers, but now looking at the lack of room in their truck, I don’t think I would have fit.” Giving the apartment another once over you begin to grow anxious, Remmick notices and asks if anything is wrong. “Nothing” you give him a tight smile “It would just be best if we left soon.”

From the time that you met Remmick to the arrival of the moving trucks you had been silently packing everything you could, you really do plan to pay the property owner but with a lack of funds all you can do is leave quietly then pay latter, unfortunately nothing got past your property owner, not even in the middle of the night.

Dramatically entering your apartment without even asking, the property owner stomps their way over to where you and Remmick are talking. “Hmph, just like a field mouse, trying to scurry away. listen I don’t know who the fuck ya are, but she ain’t goin’ nowhere without paying whats already due!”

You want to sink into the floor, shame encasing you like amber.

Without even looking your way or pausing Remmick smiles at the scowling asshole in front of you, that’s purposely trying to make you look bad. “Well, how much does my girl owe ya’?”

You wince at the amount.

He just smiles looking over to one of the movers that had been waiting by the door. “Grab my checkbook” as he waits he looks over at the property owner “You do take checks right?”

The owner folds their arms and give Remmick a sharp nod.

“Remmick, you don’t have to-” He places a hand on your shoulder placing a finger in front of his lips “Shh, don’t worry about it Darlin’, this is nothing if it means I can get you home quicker.” He winks at you making your face heat up.

With a flick of his wrist he cuts the check, handing it over to the owner, not even blinking as he erases the debt that had consumed your life, and been the reason for all of your stress.

“If this bounces…” They sneer at Remmick

He rolls his eyes but tries to keep a smile on his face “It won’t” his irritation slowly growing as the property owner just stands there.

You look at the property owner with exhaustion “Can we get a little privacy?”

“Don’t come back” they spit.

“She won’t” “I won’t” You look at each other and he smiles at you but you lower your head in embarrassment.

You hear the door slam, as the property owner makes one last grand exit in your life. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s fine.”

“No it’s not but thank you for saying so.”

He looks around at your small barren apartment, a place that always brought you pain until you felt you were suffocating from its existence. “Are ya ready to go Baby girl?” you nod following him and silently prayed you’d never have be in a situation like this again, no matter what. You jump in the passenger side, you wait for Remmick to start driving but he just looks over at you. “Put on your seat belt sweetheart, safety first”

“Of course” you fasten yourself in still in awe of what occurred.

When you finally arrive at his home you take a good look around; he lives in a gated community with cookie cutter homes planted in rows.

Without being told to, the movers park and begin to move your things inside of the house. Remmick came to the passenger side of the car and lets you out, placing his hand on your lower back, he guides you into his home. He looks excited to show you around; from the kitchen and pantry, to the bed rooms and study, and finally the living room passing by the basement.

Your eyes only lingered for a second, but long enough for Remmick to notice, redirecting you to where you are now. “This is one of my favorite pieces in this house.” He says waving towards the coffee table beside your legs “It’s sturdy and reliable, had it for years; refused to get rid of it no matter how far I’ve come”

He seems nervous about something, and you soon find out what, as he gets on one knee in front of you your confused at first until he pulls out a ring box, “You’ll need this to make it, um… Official.” You slowly hold out your hand, he takes the ring and band out of its box placing both on your finger. If you’re shocked that they fit, you don’t show it. Instead you thank him and complement the style of the rings he beams at this. It all seems a little too sentimental to you but you allow it.

It doesn’t take long before your bedroom is ready; you hadn’t asked them to but the movers had to the best of their abilities put all of your things away. You didn’t have much but the things you did have were important enough to have brought them with you. You lay down for the night looking at the ceiling of your room. It’s always hard to fall asleep somewhere new for the first time. But as you let the day wash over you, you let yourself become comfortable, lulling yourself off into a dreamland; you don’t notice your door opening.

In the morning as you’re getting ready, you notice a few pairs of underwear missing, maybe they got lost in the move, but you doubt it. ‘Was this the kind of people Remmick employed?’

You make your way downstairs noticing all the blinds to the house are closed tightly. The only thing keeping the house lit were strategically placed floor lamps, and sconce lights on the walls. Giving off the feeling of it being daytime, but without the danger it could pose to Remmick. Speak of the devil you find Remmick sitting in the living room waiting for you, sitting opposite of him are a couple of people that seem to somehow be related, ‘Maybe cousins?’

They introduced themselves as your personnel seamstress and tailor; they quickly begin to take your measurements as Remmick looks on, amused at how green you are at everything happening. “You’re my wife and you’ll need to look the part” he lists your responsibilities, minding the garden and directing the gardener, talking with neighbors to keep up a friendly appearance, and showing up to meetings he can’t personally attend. This gig was starting to sound more like the job of a personal assistant. You ask him about that but he just laughs, “Aye, I could do that, but I like to think I’m cutting out the middle man this way. Too many people get involved with that kind of arrangement; this just feels more private.”

He looks at you “When you have to live like I do, privacy is something you begin to cherish.” You don’t ask any more questions, and when your new wardrobe arrives you fall into your new assigned role, tending to Remmick’s life during the day time, and in the afternoon relaxing around the house.

After a while he slowly begins to join you, at first he was too shy and assumed he was intruding on your private time. “How can you be intruding, we’re husband and wife.” you joke playfully but after that begins to play his role on his sleeve, giving you flowers out of the blue, and jewelry that he thinks might suit you. You think of stopping him, but decide to just go with it, it wasn’t hurting anyone and it seemed to make him happy.

He finds you in the kitchen one day, prepping a bouquet of flowers he had gifted you, you planned to put them in a vase and place them on the kitchen table. He stands at the entrance just watching you, he liked to do that. His habit of watching you probably stems from a lack of human interactions due to his sun allergy, at least that’s what you believe, but you never see him staring at clients when they stop by, like he stares at you.

Sometimes you feel like a rabbit caught in the jaws of a fox, and wonder if you should run away. But then you look back at him and see that he’s just a puppy, you shake away any feeling of uneasiness that tries to plant itself inside your heart, and instead try to convince yourself that everything is normal.

He smiles at you as you wave him over.

“Thank you again for the flowers they’re beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as you,” He’s obvious trying to be suave but he comes off more like a boy with a crush, you chuckle, thanking him for the complement.

“Darlin’ I came seeking you out to ask you to attend as my date for a party.” He looks nervous asking you, as if you’d say no. You don’t think you could even if you wanted to, it was in your agreed upon requirements; you noticed he needed your approval for things that had already been agreed upon. Maybe what he really needed was for someone to pretend for him, perform for him. “No where I’d rather be, Honey” You smile throwing his overt use of endearments back at him, you watch him vibrate with excitement.

“Party’s just a short in and out, just business; just invite me in like the first time we met and smile, you can mingle but we won’t be there too long.” After he informs you of what his expectations are, he stands and watches you as you finish doing what you had been doing when he walked in.

Is it bad that you sometimes want to kiss him, feel his lips against yours, like a real couple? You wave the thought away, you’re forgetting why you’re here, ‘Don’t get attached, don’t get attached, don’t get attached.’ You try to snap out of your grand delusions, but it gets harder and harder when he’s like this.

You sigh, trying to dig your heart deeper into your chest, you spend the rest of your day like this with him by your side, just taking up each others time, until nighttime falls and you bid each other goodnight.

That night, you can’t help as yourself as you move your fingertips down your body, pretending that they were his. At first you’d been too self-conscious to do this in his house, but it’s been a while, and any hangups you had quickly melted in your panties the longer you were around him. It’s been so long that it doesn’t take much to find your release, you choke out his name while playing with your body. Even though his room is down the hall you try to be quiet, you didn’t know how thick the walls were.

The walls are thick enough that you never hear the body on the other side of your door, desperately joining you in your release, begging to be let in. You slowly drift to sleep without a clue to the body you’ve wrecked, like soft tides on a sand castle unaware of their destruction, but no lest devastating. He cleans his mess up leaving you to sleep and keeping you unaware.

For the party he calls the seamstress and tailor duo for you again; he let them adorn you with soft silk fabrics until you stand there in all your beauty. Remmick’s eyes never leaving your body, you begin to feel light headed as your pulse quickens and you begin to feel hot all over just from his gaze. The seamstress looks at you then to Remmick with concern “Mr. O’Connell, are you doing alright you have something-” they both motion to the side of his face where you can see a wet shimmer dripping from his chin ‘Was he drooling?’

He touches the side of his chin looking away, “Forgive me y’all’, I have some business to attend to in the study.” He looks back at the seamstress and tailor “Make sure to give my Wife whatever she wants.” After he leaves it doesn’t take long to finish, but you still want his opinion on some of the styles you may want to wear in the future. He had said he’d be in his study; you can hear the muffled sound of his voice. You don’t think to knock, you just quietly enter, not wanting to interrupt him if he was on an important call.

That’s how you come into view of him leaning slightly back in his chair one hand gripping the chair’s arm rest and the other wrapped around his dick. You swear you meant to look away but noticed something in his hands; it was your panties that had gone missing your first night here. You watch as his eyes screw up moaning your name, as his pace picks up. You know it’s wrong, but you can’t look away, and when he finally does notice you standing there, he’s too far gone to stop himself from cumming into the underwear fisted around his cock. “Jesus, fuck” he cries out panting out your name he tries to cover himself.

You turn around a tad to late “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt your private time.” you listen as he makes himself decent but you choose not to turn back around.

“I-I” he tries to stammer out an excuse but there’s nothing that he could say that wouldn’t make this situation worse.

“Please don’t say anything, we don’t have to talk about it, it doesn’t have to mean anything” there is a heavy silence between you.

“Alright.” he sounds so defeated, you wait for him to say anything else but when he stays quiet you decide to leave, pausing you turn back towards him, doing your best not to make eye contact. “I’m not sure if I, uh need to say this but, you can keep them, the panties.” looking at your underwear in his hands, he quickly places them behind his back. You leave quickly just in case he tries to explain himself again.

You spend most of your time in your room after that, only going out to preform your agreed upon duties, and talking with the seamstress and tailor about the attire you’ll be wearing for the gathering. Ever so often you find yourself checking to see if any more panties come up missing; they don’t, and the day for the party slowly approaches. The day before, you take extra care with your hair regimen, so that you can focus on your body.

The night before, after you come out of your bathroom glowing, you find multiple bra and pantie sets laid on your bed; they were definitely more expensive than the cheap pairs that he had stolen, was this an apology?

Should you apologize too? What he did was fucked up, but you didn’t need to continue watching, but you wanted to, you enjoyed watching him come undone with just a pair of cheap panties that you had gotten in a pack on sale.

You wonder if he still uses them; the thought begins to excite you but you can’t waste time fantasizing at the moment. You try not to waste anymore time; you pick out a set of undergarments and put on the final design of the dress, letting the Seamstress and Tailor in to make sure it’s laying right.

He smiles as you make your way towards him. ‘Fuck, he looks amazing’ maybe it hadn’t been a good idea to avoid him all this time, you had forgotten what he did to your body. He says nothing about the gifts he left on your bed, he doesn’t even ask if you were wearing them, you were but it’s nice that he’s gentleman enough not to ask about it. ‘Though not gentleman enough not to steal my panties.’ You wrap yourself around the arm he offers while he walks you to the car, he opens the door for you making sure your settled he places the seat belt on you, closing your door then jumping in the car and doing the same for himself, before hitting the highway.

Handing his keys over to a valet he smiles at you. “Before we go in I want to say something.” ‘Oh god, please don’t let him bring up what happened in the study, oh god please.’ “You look absolutely breathtaking.” You smile at him, giving your thanks; you let him lead you to the house where the social gathering was. Unlike when you first met you don’t wait for him to ask, immediately you invite him in.

Allowing him to place his hand on your lower back, you let him guide you over to a handsome older gentleman, with hair that was graying on his temples, who you can only assume is the Host for tonight. You had assumed that you wouldn’t know anyone here, and you wish that had been the case; but standing right behind him was the person that had got you into this whole mess. You didn’t know whether to punch them or thank them; instead you act like you don’t know them, letting introductions flow freely as if this was your first meeting.

“Where have you been hiding such a lovely wife?” the host remarks.

Remmick caresses your cheek. “Well you know I can be a very jealous man, and shes truly the apple of my eye,” He says looking at you with so much unadulterated love, that you almost look behind yourself to see who he’s talking about. “It’s hard to not want to keep ‘er locked up.” He says with a little to much honesty, that it even makes the host uncomfortable.

They chuckle and start to talk about business, at that you tune them out, every so often glancing around the party. Remmick’s hand never leaves your lower back; as he talks, a possessiveness that you never knew he had shines through, and everyone around could see it.

Remmick leans down and whispers in your ear making you shiver you don’t know if he noticed, but a smirk forms on his lips. “Be right back, remember what I said just an in and out.” You nod, watching Remmick and the host entering doors to the back rooms.

You had hopped your ex roommate would do the honorable thing and just ignore you like you had planned to ignore them, but you weren’t so lucky. They walked straight to you as the two men walked away. “Funny bumping into you here.” You continue to ignore them giving them the barest of acknowledgments.

“It’s good to see you again, looks like you finally followed my lead, and let go of your foolish dreams. Better to give up sooner than to die broke later, am I right?” That was your limit; why couldn’t they just leave you alone? “I never gave up on my dreams, and that is not why I’m here right now, it was you that couldn't cut it, not me.” You try to keep your voice down but they’re making it hard, before they can needle you again, someone that you assumed works for them tries to whisper in their ear, but you catch parts of the conversion. Band arrived but singer left separately, never showed. They look over at you, watching as you try to pretend like you’re not eavesdropping, smirking they point at you.

“We have a replacement right here. Tell the band to get ready, she’ll be on in a few.” The color leaves your face. “What are you doing” You hiss at them. “What, you said you never gave up on your dreams, or was that just a bunch of hypocritical bullshit you were spouting to make yourself feel better about snagging a sugar daddy like me, while still looking down at me from your high chair?” Brushing past them you make sure to bump into their shoulder. “Witness me Bitch” It comes out as playful, you would gladly raise to their challenge.

“Give me something worth witnessing” They smile knowing just what to say to rile you up, and for a second it’s as if you both were back in that apartment, two broke kids trying to make it big.

As you’re handed a mic you don’t have time to think if what your about to sing is business friendly, or if it will embarrass Remmick, you just feel the words flow out of you like a firework busting from its casing.

“Glory, glory, glory to the night That shows me what I am..”

You don’t know when Remmick comes back but he’s watching you intently, as you pour your soul out into a party full of strangers, and you hope this doesn’t break your agreement.

“As I go to the party on my knees Saying "Take it all, please"

You lock eyes with him as you sing, and just like that night in the dinner you see that hunger in his eyes, and it was meant for you.

“Glory, glory, glory to the night It shows me what I am”

He smiles as if he had finally found what he was looking for in life, and you realize right at that moment the hunger in his eyes was always meant for you, and that thought scares you, It could mean only one thing.

“I'm not happy or sad, just up or down And always bad”

Remmick had fallen in love with you.

As you finish the song you watch as your old friend walk away probably on their way to find their husband. Remmick walks towards you looking like he wants to kiss you, and you think would have let him if everyone including you weren’t suddenly shocked by a shrill scream that comes from the backrooms. The person that you used to know comes stumbling out of the doors. “He’s dead, please someone help, my husband he’s been murdered, get help!” You watch as people around you slowly begin to try and get help, but stop in their tracks as the host and supposedly dead husband, makes an appearance behind them with an oddly familiar smile.

“Sweetheart, I’m old not dead.” He places a hand on their lower back. “I can’t party like I used to, I need to re-energize somehow, and I’d like to do it without putting stuff in my nose.” He stage whispers making everyone breakout in a nervous laugh. “I apologize everyone, my young spouse here has mistaken my light nap for a visit from the grim reaper.”

Instead of nervously laughing along with everyone else they push their husband, the host away; you hear audible gasps all around as they make their way over to you grabbing you by your arms. Their eyes full of the kind of panicking desperation you only see in horror movies, they try to get you to listen to them “I know what I saw, please, pleas-”

Not sure what to believe you let their husband usher them away, not noticing the light stain on his collar as their screams become more panicked. Remmick quickly guides you out of the party without saying goodbye to anyone. No matter what they did in the past you hoped they would be okay, but you had a feeling in your guts that you just witnessed the death of a memory.

Getting you in the car he hits the highway towards home.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” It was something you wanted to keep to yourself, didn’t want it to be a part of you that you sold, but you couldn’t say that. Instead you say “Didn’t want to bother you with my silly little hobbies.” “It didn’t sound like just a hobby to me, sounded like something special, beautiful, real goddamn beautiful.” You thank him but don’t say anything else on the matter, and for a second it’s quiet as he drives. “Will you do it again, just for me?”

“Is that a request or a demand?” ‘Did that sound bitter?’

He takes a quick glance over at you, making sure to keep his eyes on the road for the most part. He drives in silence for the rest of the trip. Parking the car in the driveway, he softly grabs your hand while looking you in the eyes. “I’m not requesting or demanding but beggin’ ya please sing for me.”

You were only teasing him, you hadn’t planned to sing for him, but his pleading made you smile. He brings is lips to the back of your hand kissing it softly, glancing over at you he must know by now what he did to you, he begins to lean towards you and you know what he wants.

You unbuckle your seat belt not waiting for him you get out of the car, you practically sprinting to the house, you had to get away from him before you did something stupid.

He sprints after you calling your name.

Closing the door behind himself he finds you in the living room, walking towards the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms, but he stops you turning your body towards him, till you’re facing his chest.

“We shouldn’t.” You place your hands on his chest, it felt like a sin to want him so badly.

“Why not?” He says eyelashes almost touching you as he goes in to kiss you again.

“I think I'll regret this.” You start off with slow kisses, but soon you both get desperate, trying to get a taste of each other with every touch of your lips.

He runs down your body with his lips leaving kisses in his wake, as he rips open the front of your dress. The sound of shock leaves your lips, but he covers them with his own moaning into your mouth, as you paw at his belt working it loose with your fingers. He runs his fingers over your exposed bra looking for your nipple, he rips the fabric of the bra kissing and sucking on your breast then to your nipple, when he finally gets your titty free.

You unbutton his slacks, pulling them down far enough to release his dick from his underwear, before you can wrap your hand around him he pulls back from you. You watch as his chest lifts up and down, slowly descending in front of you he looks almost animalistic as he gets on his knees, he lifts your dress up, pulling your panties down. You don’t expect it, so when he pulls you down, pushing your back flush against the coffee table, and dives between your thighs with his tongue, you make a choked noise.

You try to close your legs from the over stimulation but he keeps you open, your legs firmly placed on his shoulders; he wasn’t going to let you go until you gave him what he wanted. Your hips lifting off the coffee table your hand goes to his hair pulling him deeper into your snatch. As you moan his name, you cum on his tongue and feel as he laps the juices off your cunt.

“Oh Fuck sweetheart you taste like heaven.” As you run your hands through his hair you notice that he has natural waves, “Beautiful.” The word leaves your lips as he grabs your hand, kissing the palm of your hands as he pulls you on top of him. You sink slowly on his length, already weeping with pre-cum. You begin to ride him like you were starved for just the taste of him. “Fuck love, please slow down it’s been a while, I’m not gon’ta last!” You look down at him with a smirk on your lips, he gave you no mercy, so why should you give him any? You kick it into over drive, rolling your hips with purpose.

Remmick tries to grab your hips to slow you down, but you grab his hands placing one on the titty he had ripped your bra just to get a taste of and the other on your lips kissing his fingertips. “Fuck so good, I can’t!” He’s practically weeping under you, as you keep rolling your hips in a smooth but relentless motion. You’re closer to the edge than you thought, you cum all over his dick, as he finds release in you. Panting each others names, delirious with euphoria he holds you close as you feel drops of him start to drip out of you.

After that day it feels like you are closer then ever, he lets his natural waves lay on his head, cause he knows you like to play with them and you sing to him in the after noon letting him lay his head on your lap. Everything feels like paradise, that is until you’re doing a little morning gardening and one of your neighbor sees you.

Waving you over they seem nervous at first, saying they weren’t going to bring it up, but you seemed like such a nice and normal couple. “Do you know about the people that your Husband brings home at night?” Blinking, that wasn’t what you had expected them to say. “What-, Mr. O’Connell… My Husband is in the business of restoration and with his sun allergy-” They don’t look convinced just like you don’t feel it. “It’s just that when they leave they look so disheveled, as if they had removed their clothing.” Your fists clench, you didn’t want to hear this. “What are you trying to imply?” “I didn’t mean to offend” “I don’t know what is going on in that mind of yours but I suggest you just forget what you saw.”

You try to breathe but it’s become harder. “Now I have roses to take care of, good day.” You hadn’t meant to sound so angry, but you hadn’t known of any people of the night visiting Remmick. Of course it would have been while you were asleep, and yes there had been times when you woke up to find his side of the bed empty, but he was probably in the basement working on restorations.

Beside it wasn’t your place to question what he did with his time; that’s right, you were just his fake wife, but you were his real lover and the thought of him in the arms of someone else made you so sick. You could barely breathe; you’re quiet for the rest of the week, and if Remmick noticed anything he doesn’t say a word. You can barely look at him without envisioning him making love to some random faceless person, to the point you begin to have nightmares about it.

It’s due to one of those nightmares that you awaken in the middle of the night; your neighbors words getting to you as you reach out for a body that you knew wasn’t there. You glance to the windows getting up when you hear the sound of his car driving into the driveway, you slowly pull back the curtains just enough to stay hidden, but also enough to peek outside.

You watch as he pops out of his car with someone that you’ve never seen before, at least you don’t remember seeing them; could they be someone from the parties he took you to? Your hand covers your mouth as he wraps his arm around their waist, and your heart drops into your stomach; your neighbor had been right, he was bringing people home.

You don’t know why but you can’t help yourself as you creep downstairs; you see the basement door ajar and you don’t know what compels you to, but you steadily make your way down the stairs. Every part of your mind is telling you to go back upstairs, ‘what will you even do when you catch him in the act with someone else?’ ‘Are you really willing to ruin everything just to, what, sate your curiosity?’ ‘Please, please, please, turn around!’ Your heart screams at you to stop.

When you make it to the base of the stairs what you expected to see wasn’t there, not completely. They were naked but instead of seeing two people fucking like their lives depended on it, you find Remmick moments away from biting some poor persons throat out, with a Tarp laid neatly on the concrete floor so as not to leave any stains. You try to go back upstairs but a shovel leaning against the wall falls as you bump into it, alerting them both that you saw what was happening. Shocked by your presence Remmick stops dead in his tracks; had his eyes always been that color so deeply red, so inhuman? He loosens his grip on his victims body. “Sweetheart I can explain.” As he scrambles to glue together some kind of half lie his victim gets away before Remmick can catch them, running towards the stairs their salvation just feet away.

You grab the shovel off the floor that had been leaning against the wall and in one swift motion you wack the victim across their face; as they fall back you watch as Remmick grabs them by their hair, pulling them back over to the tarp. Both of their eyes never leaving you, one filled with betrayal the other filled with curiosity, you watch as Remmick gets down on his knees, forcing the victim’s head to the side as he bites down on their neck.

His eyes stay locked on you as takes all he can from them. As their eyes roll back losing consciousness and body becomes limp, what you’ve done catches up to your brain. You slowly turn away from him, making your way back up stairs, sitting in the living room. You don’t know how long you wait, but it was long enough that Remmick is walking towards you.

With his Victim a few steps behind him, now fully dressed, they smile at you. They give you a wave as if to say no hard feelings on helping them get murdered; you look at Remmick’s face still covered in blood as he lays a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry baby, you weren’t meant to see that.” You notice that his fingers are still elongated; your eyes snap forward focusing to the object in front of you, it really is a nice coffee table.

If you like what you read check out my other stories from my 'Corner Store' Series where you the readers get to pick the prompt.

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