Her big, dark round eyes open. Her first thought in the morning, always the same…
The red silk sheets are soft beneath her bare bottom. She thrusts her hips up towards the chandelier on the ceiling.
She moves her fingers down her milky white pale skin, feeling the goose bumps across her smooth belly. Her hands keep moving further down to the throbbing between her thighs.
Her fingers touch the aching, the desperately dripping...
She rubs herself feeling the honey flow down her inner thigh. Faster and harder the more she thinks of him. The more she imagines the taste of his skin against her lips and the feeling of his hands grabbing at her hair. And then the burst, the outcry, the explosion, the waves vibrate across her entire body.
And then it’s over.
She pulls off the covers and saunters downstairs. The maid is already up and cleaning, she accidentally drops some glassware when she sees Bethany standing naked in the kitchen.
“Oh. Ah…um, good morning Ms Black.”
Bethany stares at her.
You’d think after all these months you’d become accustomed to seeing my vag.
She rolls her eyes and grabs a robe from the nearby closet.
Bethany makes herself a strong, black coffee and goes out onto the balcony.
She lights a small cigar as she looks out into the quiet street. So many expensive homes in a line with their white fences, pools and tennis courts. They disgust her.
She stares into her coffee, admiring the darkness of it, and wonders what life will be like when she takes husband number two.
I wonder how he likes his coffee, does he even like coffee? That’s a ridiculous question, who doesn’t like such sweet bitterness? Hmmm, will I make him his coffee? Will I wake up before him to make him his coffee? Mr. Nick never did care for my attempts at wifery, but maybe Mr.G will? Will we share a bed? Or have twin beds? Or separate rooms? Should we go for evening walks together? No, that doesn’t sound right. But isn’t that what real people do? I wonder if he’ll mind my morning daddy groans. Wait…what if he also has morning daddy groans?!! I mean he was married to that… bitch… who looks like daddy…it’s…possible isn’t it..? This is way too many thoughts for the morning.
I should go see Bella.
She walks back through the apartment, exposing her breasts to the maid (who looks horrified) with a wicked giggle as she makes her way upstairs. Almost robotically, Bethany puts on a simple black dress, heels, coat…she grabs her purse and a mini bottle of tequila.
Daddy might want a drink later.
As she makes her way back down the stairs she speed dials her father, but there’s no answer.
Hmmm, what’s he doing?
Her driver swings by to pick her up and she jumps into the backseat.
“Bella’s office please.”
“Yes, Ms Black.”
Taking a swig of the tequila, Bethany dials her father again, but again there’s no answer.
Seriously, what is he doing?
Absently, she flips open a bridal magazine left on the seat beside her and wonders about her gown.
Maybe a veil, long and black covered in red roses. Maybe some spiders too and they could crawl off as I walked down the aisle and attack the guests covering them in a glorious spider human orgy. Wait no remember what Daddy said, no harming the guests. Fuck’s sake.
All too soon, the car pulls up at the offices of Black Family Inc.
“Thank you. Tequila?” she offers the driver a swig.
“No thank you, Ms. Black.”
She strolls through the building and up the lift to Bella’s office, marching straight inside without knocking and slumping down on one of the chairs. Bella turns from her desk to see her sister draped over the chair like a child, tequila in one hand, bridal magazine in the other.
She gives Bethany that look.
“Do you think it’d be rude to cover my guests in spiders?”
“Yes, Bethany, I do.”
“Hmm figures. So whatcha doing?”
“Business. Busy day.”
Bethany walks up to Bella’s desk, running her hands through all of her sister’s things before jumping to perch on it unsteadily.
“You could just take the day off. We could get some coke and try on wedding dresses?”
Bella gives her that look, again.
“Bethany, I have so much to do and you know I’m flying out this afternoon to take care of some things interstate for your father...”
Bethany stares down at the floor, her eyes fixated by the red shades in the carpet. She slips off a shoe and caresses her toes between the fibres as if it were grass.
Red. The colour of love, the colour of lust, the colour of anger. Red…the colour of blood.
So much blood.
Her eyes close against the flashes in her mind. Flashes of blood on her skin, blood on their little hands, blood soaking their faces, the cries, the pounding of her heart…so loud she can’t shut it out.
She takes a deep breath and pictures the warmth of the water from the shower washing it all away.
“Bethany, are you ok?”
“Yeah, Bella, I’m great.”
She gets up and waves the bottle in front of Bella.
“Yes, now why don’t you go see what Aunty Lyra is up to? I’m sure she’d love to do some wedding planning with you.”
“Ok sister dearest, love you.”
“Love you too Bethany.”
She strolls out the office calling her father, but there’s <em>still</em> no answer.
Hmmm, what the fuck!?
On her way towards the door, she notices that Bella’s secretary has left her desk unattended. Giggling to herself, she sits down and goes through the paperwork, drawing pictures of herself in a wedding dress made of spiders all over the documents.
“Bethany Black, not again, please you’ll get me fired…”
Bethany glares up at the woman with contempt –how dare she talk to her - then empties her bottle of tequila all over the desk, running downstairs before Bella sees her and gives her a lecture.
Fuck now I’m out of alcohol.
Strolling the streets randomly she finally enters a smelly, dark, dive of a bar and orders a shot. An old man offers to pay for it and she obliges. They end up chatting for a while and drinking, he buys her some food but she doesn’t eat it. She’s starting to get drunk and misses her daddy.
Just as she’s reaching for her phone, the old man slides his hand up her dress. Without even thinking, Bethany grabs the fork from the untouched plate of steak and fries and jams it right into his hand.
Excuse me, I am an engaged woman! And also I have a daddy!
He cries out in pain.
She drops the fork and runs outside.
Again she calls her father, but no answer.
Goddammit. What now then? I guess a quick flight.
Bethany hails a taxi to the airport, taking the next flight out. Sliding into her first class seat, she orders a vodka and crackers and lets her head fall back against the headrest. She turns off her phone, closes her eyes and falls into a restless sleep.
Cabin prepare for landing.
Her eyes open.
She purposely forgets to turn her phone back on and gets up with a pounding headache.
Nothing a visit to an old friend can’t fix.
Hailing another taxi, Bethany takes out her little black book filled with names, places, numbers, and addresses in a number of different languages. She directs the taxi driver to a little yellow building, tips him, then knocks on the door.
A handsome dark haired man peers through the window and promptly opens the door to greet her.
“Ah my love! My dear Daniela, you are here!”
“Yes, Juan, I’m here.”
He kisses her forehead, then her cheeks, and then softly and sweetly on her lips.
“I can’t stay long this time, I’m just here to get some cigars and maybe a little pick me up?”
She walks through to the kitchen and helps herself to some coffee. Juan sits on the lounge and opens a small box filled with cocaine. Bethany joins him on the couch, sipping her coffee and running her fingers through his hair.
“You’ve been well?” Not that she particularly cares.
“Mmm very well, and you my love?”
Bethany half smiles and pauses for a long time.
“Yes, very well too. I’m very…happy.”
They enjoy line after line of cocaine, until she is floating on a cloud. Juan starts to unbutton her dress, kissing her breasts. He smells like stale cigars, just as she remembers.
She unzips his pants and pulls him deep inside her. They fuck on the couch for a while. She thinks of her father as she comes. Her headache has sufficiently gone.
She slides off the couch and pulls her dress back up. Taking one last sip of her coffee, she gently kisses the top of Juan’s head.
“I have to go, it’s getting late.”
And Daddy will be angry.
Juan walks her to the door, tells her he hopes to see her again soon, and kisses her cheek. She nods absently.
Strolling down the streets to find her favourite cigar shop, Bethany purchases 6 of them, then stops by a little bar and has some wine. She looks out to see children playing in the street…her heart becoming heavy as she feels a deep longing she could never share.
I miss my babies.
The more she thinks about her twins - the more she tries to imagine what their faces look like, what their skin smells like, what their voices could sound like - the more agitated she becomes until she throws her wine glass against the bar wall. The barman and a few people look up. A woman whispers to her partner. They all stare at her.
She runs out onto the street, shaking fingers moving to her phone.
Daddy. Shit. How did it get so late?
There are already 20 missed calls, over half are from her father. Biting her lip, she listens to the last of his voicemails.
'Bethany! Bethany Black, where the fuck are you? I know you bought a place ticket, I checked your fucking credit card record. I don’t answer your calls for one fucking hour and you leave the damn state...are you trying to upset me? You know I don’t like to be disappointed Bethany…get back here right now…'
Bethany is in a taxi and on her way to the airport moments later. She nervously downs her vodka and nibbles on her crackers, and then passes out with her hand on her stomach…dreaming of her babies still inside her.
Cabin prepare for landing.
Her eyes snap open.
When she arrives at her father’s house she quickly lets herself in and makes her way upstairs to his bedroom.
He’s sprawled on his bed, still fully clothed. His eyes are closed, but she knows he’s not asleep. He never sleeps.
Slipping off her shoes, she lays down on the pillow beside him, gazing at him as he opens his eyes.
“Daddy, I missed you.”
He perks a brow and turns his head to face her, the frown dancing across his lips and the dark glimmer in his eyes softening a little as she reaches out to take his hand.
“I missed you too, baby doll. Don’t do that again.”
His lips quirk in a half smile and she smiles back, nuzzling closer to him as their fingers entwine. As her eyes close she feels nothing but calm.
I love you.
Written by Pippy Scream.
All characters and story lines remain the property of N.Ristovski and the Underground. All character writings within the Underground are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2014. Natalie Ristovski.