Squeak

Hide and Seek

Papa King

I cleaned up the last bit of evidence from the living room—glass, blood, every trace of Jezebel—when Erik finally came to.

"Fuck...my head...it's killing me. What happened to me?" Erik groaned as he slowly pulled himself into sitting position.

"What do you remember?"

"Taking a shower."

"You don't remember the altercation between you and Jezebel?"

"N-no, I don't. Fuck," he complained, reaching for the back of his head.

"Be careful; you received stitches."

"Where's Squeak?"

"Squeak is—"

"Jezebel," Erik swiftly corrected. "She's Jezebel to you."

"I apologize."

Erik narrowed his eyes at me suspiciously. It was rare for me to apologize.

I need to act normal, but that's a little difficult when your son's girlfriend is bleeding out in the pool house.

"Where is she?"

"I'm afraid I didn't make the best first impression. You had hit her with your cane because you felt that she was admiring me. She retaliated, hence your injury. Some words were exchanged, and she took a walk to cool off."

"That bitch tried to fucking kill me," Erik growled.

"Jezebel is a fiery one, isn't she?"

"Yeah, you don't want to fuck with her."

"Help me understand why you chose her. Dare I say you can't handle her?"

"She didn't start out that way. Jesus, do you have aspirin or something?" I flipped open the medical kit, found a bottle of pain relievers, and tossed it to him.

"As you were saying?"

Erik took his time unscrewing the lid of the bottle and tapped two white pills into his opened palm.

"How's Mom?"

"She's resting peacefully."

"I have a hard time believing that. The last time I checked on her, I thought her head was about to start spinning. You haven't seen her yet."

"What gives you that impression?"

He shot me a sly grin—the one his mother would give me when she knew I was lying.

"Because you're down here grilling me about my girlfriend instead of being with your dick-deprived wife. If I find out that you hurt my girlfriend, then what Mom did to Charles would all be in vain."

"Is that a threat?"

"If that's how you took it. I will fuck you up over Jezebel. It doesn't matter that I can barely walk or that my fucking head feels like it's about to explode. Stay away from her," he warned as he stood to his feet. He grabbed his cane and tapped the empty space where the coffee table once resided. "What happened to the table?"

A piercing scream from upstairs ricocheted through the house.

"Your mother calls. We'll catch up later, my beautiful son."

"We will," he ominously agreed.

***

I stormed up the staircase to confront my biggest mistake.

I can't say that. Helen gave me Erik, but damn that woman knows how to blow a well-laid plan.

I kept Helen around for several reasons: she was carrying my child, obedient, proved useful, and was the right kind of crazy, but she was steadily becoming a burden.

I threw open the bedroom door and found Helen handcuffed to the bed, looking like a crazed madwoman. She gasped upon seeing me.

"J-Jacob...you're here."

"I'm here, my love," I cooed as I approached her.

"I can't believe you're—"

I slapped my hand over her mouth and gripped her cheeks so hard that there was a chance they'd shatter beneath my fingertips.

"Shut the fuck up," I growled in her face. "I only asked one thing from you. One fucking thing—didn't I?" She nodded. "And you couldn't fucking do that. Tell me, Helen...why should I keep you around?" She mumbled behind my hand, and I lifted it away.

"I-I love you. I just wanted us to be together again."

I snorted.

Love...she knows that four-letter word means nothing to me. It doesn't make my heart melt or make the butterflies flutter in my stomach. As I've taught Erik, I rather be hated. It takes more energy to hate me than love me. Plus, the love you feel for someone can wither away over time.

"What do I tell you about that word, Helen?"

"I love you," she said defiantly. I'd entertain her proclamation of love.

"How much do you love me?" I taunted.

"I'd kill for you."

"Would you kill anyone for me?"

"Yes...anyone," she rushed out.

I chuckled, "You tell such beautiful lies."

"I'm not lying," she argued. I wanted to propose a hypothetical but didn't want to alarm her.

"I believe you," I lied as I released her from the handcuffs. She flew into my arms, and her lips and hands were everywhere. "Helen?"

"Yes, baby?" she mumbled as she ripped open my dress shirt, scattering the buttons on the hardwood floor.

"Not only did you fuck up my plans, but you put our family in jeopardy. You better make sure this is the best fuck of my life," I warned.

"What happens if I don't?" she challenged.

"What do I always tell you?"

She tried to keep her face neutral to hide her emotions, but her watery blue eyes gave her away. She held her tears back, knowing they wouldn't move me in the slightest. Her greatest fear was that—

"I'm replaceable," she cracked out as she buried her face into the crook of my neck.

"That's right, baby. You're always replaceable," I whispered.

***

I shut off the shower with a satisfied sigh and slicked my hair back from my face. Helen had certainly earned her keep by draining every ounce of cum out of me.

I opened the steam-covered glass door and froze when I found Jezebel bleeding from her injuries and holding my towel on a hooked finger.

"You can't help yourself, can you?"

"What did I tell you about a pretty face?" I said, accepting the towel. "I'm surprised you got past Helen. She's a light sleeper."

"And I'm lighter."

"Where's Erik? Has he seen you?"

"You're still living, so no, he hasn't seen me yet. I texted him and asked to meet at Starbucks. Get dressed. We need to talk."

"About?"

I wrapped the towel around my waist and watched Jezebel pull a shard of glass out of her shoulder without a flinch and drop it into the sink.

"About how I own you."