An Error in Judgment Ch. 06

"Do I own you, Courtney?" His voice was dark as he asked her quietly. "Are you mine?"

"Yes, Michael." Courtney replied softly. "You own me."

"Good girl." He responded. "So now," he continued, "we're going to get a few things straightened out."

"Okay?" Courtney said, questioning his statement.

"First thing, you're going to withdraw the restraining order. You're going to tell them that you don't feel you need it since I haven't been a threat." He watched Courtney shudder nervously as the thought of the restraining order and the reason behind it entered her mind. As the thoughts played across her face, he saw the fear flash through her eyes as she looked up at him. "You've given in, Courtney. You don't need to fear me." His voice was hushed as he spoke.

Courtney nodded, swallowing hard before agreeing. "Okay." She said, her voice tense. "What else?"

"When I call for you, you will come to me. Without delay." He looked at her ominously. "I'm not forgiving if you test my patience." He watched her eyes widen as fear began to return to her. She opened her mouth to speak, but she fumbled for words. "Speak, girl." He snapped. "Tell me what you are thinking."

Courtney closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "What about Dylan? What if I'm out of town or something? What if I can't do what you expect of me?" The panic was evident in her voice as she tossed her questions at him rapidly.

Michael chuckled at her. "Oh sweetheart, you and your innocence." He said, reaching out to touch her face. "As far as Dylan, this arrangement would be the same as any other secret lover would be. He won't find out. This will be discreet. You'll make up an excuse." He studied her as she weighed the words. "In short, you're having an affair with me." He noticed the way that she winced when he said 'affair.' He eyed her questioningly. "You don't like that word." He stated.

"No." Courtney replied, her voice dropping.

"He's cheated on you, hasn't he?" Michael asked, his eyes narrowing at her. He could see the answer, but he wanted her to admit it.

Courtney was kicking herself for letting it slip. He now had something else to hold over her. "Yes." She admitted, painfully.

"And you've been faithful," he pressed, watching the tears building in her eyes as he pressed her, "it absolutely kills you, doesn't it?"

"Yes." Courtney replied, looking down. Her voice had taken on the tone of defeat.

Michael laughed. He reached out, grasping her chin and tilting it toward him, leaning close to her face. "It's more fun in hell, Courtney," he growled. "You can't always be perfect." The look in his eyes as he stared into her made her nervous, but also reached to that intimate place again, and she gasped quietly in response.

"You will get used to it. You will become skilled at hiding it." He continued, quietly. "Eventually, you'll have two lives. Your everyday life, and mine." He watched the way his words hit her, the way they played in her eyes as he spoke. His influence over her drove him crazy. "It will become easy." Courtney contemplated what he had said as she looked at him. He was waiting for her to reply. He stared at her intensely, his dark eyes burning into her. "Well?" He asked, impatiently.

"What if I can't do it?" Courtney asked nervously.

Michael's hand moved from her chin to her throat. "You will do this, Courtney." Her eyes widened in fear as his fingers curled around her throat tightly. "You are mine. You've agreed. What is there to dispute?" His voice was a snarl as his anger flashed in his eyes. "Do I need to demonstrate how easily I can control you?" She looked up at him pleadingly, her green eyes wide with fear as he moved and stood before her, looking down at her darkly.

"No, Michael, that's not what I meant!" Courtney stammered anxiously as he tightened his grip on her throat. She looked at him in a panic as she struggled to explain. "I mean, what if I can't do what you want me to...what if I don't know how?" Her voice cracked as her breath ran short.

He broke into a wicked grin as he loosened his grip on her throat, watching her gasp for breath. "Then I will tell you what to do. I can be patient if I need to be, Courtney." He replied as he stroked the side of her face. "You and your innocence," he sighed, "you'll find that I'm not always cruel."

Courtney winced at his touch. "Are you really that inexperienced, or are you just toying with me?" He asked, looking at her expectantly.

"I'm not overly experienced, Michael." She admitted, embarrassingly. She looked down nervously as she avoided his stare.

"That's not a bad thing." He replied quietly. "It means you won't have as many bad habits to break." He smiled as he studied her. "Maybe you're not as broken as you think."

"Michael," she started, her voice defensive, "the hell I've been through surpasses even what you've done." Her eyes darkened as she stared at him. "But yet, I still can't tell you to go to hell."

Michael looked at her darkly. "You aren't a pushover, Courtney." He pulled her to stand in front of her. "You have no idea how alluring that feistiness is."

He stared into her eyes as she looked at him anxiously. "You still fear me." His voice was low as he watched her reaction.

"Yes." Courtney replied. "It's not just going to vanish, Michael." She looked at him innocently. The way her eyes desperately tried to read him, how she tried to hide her fear was driving him crazy. "Not after everything."

"I told you, you don't need to fear me unless you act out." His voice was quiet as he touched her face. "Now," he whispered as he smiled darkly at her. "Come here."

He turned her around, bending her over the bed. Before she could react, he drove himself into her again. She whimpered as he grabbed her hips, thrusting deeper into her. Her knees buckled at the intensity of the feeling as he pounded her. She dug her nails into the bed, grabbing at the comforter trying to hold herself up as her body began to shake. She cried out as he continued fucking her roughly.

His hands grasped her by the shoulders, pulling her up as she tried to stretch forward onto the bed. "Stay up." He growled. The intensity was starting to become too much for her. Her legs began shaking as she began panting with each thrust. She moaned loudly as he dug his fingers into her hips, thrusting faster. She cried out as her climax hit, causing her knees to buckle in response as she collapsed forward onto the bed. She moaned as he grabbed her ass, digging his fingers in as he slammed himself into her repeatedly until his own orgasm hit.

He groaned as he emptied his load into her, feeling her body shaking and throbbing around him. When he finished, he withdrew from her, pulling her to her feet. He turned her around to face him, and pushed her down to her knees.

Without hesitation, she took him into her mouth, sucking and cleaning their mixture off of him. He groaned at the feeling of her tongue working him over. "Good girl," he cooed as she finished, "You do that well."

She looked up at him expectantly, waiting for him to speak next. "You can get up. You don't have to stay down there." He said quietly. He watched her as she stood.

"Go shower." He said. "I'll be downstairs waiting." She nodded as he zipped his jeans up and walked away.

As she stood in the shower, the hot water cascading over her, her mind began racing. She shook her head angrily. "This has to end. It's going to end." She said to herself as she turned the water off.

While she dressed, she saw the black case of Dylan's pistol sitting on the top shelf of the closet. Trembling, she reached for it. As she opened the case, fear crept into her mind. "I have to do this." She told herself as she clicked the magazine in place.

Dylan had left the pistol and loaded magazines in their closet just in case there was trouble. Had he not been so worried about Michael's threat of slitting Courtney's throat the night he demonstrated his control over her, he would have used it himself.

"You know it's here. You know how to use it." Dylan's voice echoed in her head as she closed her eyes. She stuck the pistol in the back of her jeans as she pulled the back of her long sleeved shirt down to cover it.

"Lock your arms. Line it up. Don't flinch when you fire." Courtney heard Dylan in her mind again as she stepped out of their closet into the bathroom. She tousled her hair nervously before taking a deep breath.

As she walked down the stairs, the anxiety she felt was boiling inside of her. As she saw Michael sitting on the couch, she almost ran back up the stairs. She was having a difficult time controlling her fear.

He heard her coming down the stairs and turned to look at her. He held her phone as he smiled darkly. "Give it back, now." She snapped. "It's locked anyway."

"It was easy enough to unlock." He replied. "You deleted my number. I added it again." He smiled again, his dark eyes burning as he looked at her. "I have to say, it looks like you had a good few months, judging by your pictures." He stood, stepping toward her. "But, that's over now, isn't it? Now that you've come to your senses about me."

They stared at each other in silence for a moment. She felt the burn of his gaze as he studied her. He was waiting for an answer. He was not going to like what she was about to say. "Well?" He demanded.

"No." Courtney replied. "This is done, Michael. It's over." She tried to conceal her fear as the wicked smile faded from his face. His eyes darkened and she could see his anger building at her defiance.

"I told you this isn't over until I say, Courtney." His voice was little more than a snarl as he stepped closer. "Do I need to remind you of that?"

Courtney pulled the pistol from her jeans and leveled it at him. "No." She replied icily. "It's over now."

"Oh, look." Michael said sarcastically. "The kitten has teeth. But can you actually pull the trigger?" He broke into a sinister smile as he stepped closer to her. "You felt guilty about the knife. How do you think the guilt of shooting me would feel, Courtney?"

"That's not going to work, Michael." Courtney replied as she fought the urge to run away. "This has to end." She clenched her jaw, willing herself to keep it together.

He stared into her eyes. He could read her fear. "You're terrified, Courtney. Admit it." He snapped. "Be a good girl and go put it away. We can pretend this little fiasco didn't happen."

Courtney began to shake as her self-control started to fade. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared back at him. "No...." She whispered.

"I can see you shaking. You don't want to do this." He said quietly as he pushed her arms down, lowering the pistol. "Just give up, Courtney. You know you can't do it. You're not capable of murder. You can't kill me." He paused, leaning close to her. "Because I'll kill you first." His voice was cold as he whispered into her ear. "Give in. Don't make this worse." He warned, as he stared at her darkly.

Courtney closed her eyes. Michael touched the side of her face, "My broken girl. Scared of admitting the truth. Afraid to lie. Terrified to let someone down." He seethed at her as her shaking grew worse. "Now look at yourself. Trying to be brave. Doing what's expected of you. But deep down in that dark, filthy little mind, you know what you want."

Courtney whimpered as he continued. "I don't want you. Or this." She whispered. "I want my life back." She opened her eyes and stared at him, her green eyes reflective.

Michael slid his hand down to her throat. "You're lying." He growled. "You do want this." He tightened his grip on her throat as he leaned closer to her. "Admit it."

"No." She replied as she struggled against his grip. He squeezed tighter as he stared darkly at her. "No."

"Last chance, Courtney." He snarled. "Give up. Tell me I own you, and we'll forget about this." He curled his fingers around her throat, watching her eyes widen in terror as the realization she couldn't breathe set in. "Or your defiance may have some severe consequences."

Courtney struggled to raise her arms as the dizziness began to take over. She moved the pistol to Michael's chest. "I'm done." She squeaked as he pushed her against the wall.

"Your mistake." Michael growled. He pulled her away from the wall, shoving her to the floor. He rushed toward her as she scrambled to her feet, pinning her to the floor.

"Why do we have to keep getting so violent, Courtney?" Michael asked as he stared down at her. He pinned her right hand, still gripping the pistol, to the floor roughly. "Why can't you just accept this?" His voice was tense as he struggled with the urge to choke her to death. He shook violently as he tightened his grip on her wrist. "Listen for once in your fucking life. I own you now. Accept that!"

"I don't want this!" Courtney yelled back at him angrily. Her temper was starting to flare. "I never did!" She kicked at Michael desperately as she struggled to get away. "You made this choice for me. I'm not doing this anymore."

"You don't have a choice!" Michael snarled as he reached for her shoulders to pull her up in front of him. As he did, she swung her arm forward, striking him under the eye with the pistol. She scrambled backwards until she found her back against the wall as she watched the last strands of his self-control snap.

"You want to play this way, then?" He seethed as his temper snapped. His eyes darkened to near black as he stared at her. "You're going to regret it." He started toward her again. Courtney raised the pistol again and pointed it at him. "You couldn't do it if you wanted to!" He snarled as his eyes flashed violently. "Better figure out what your dying wish is going to be, Courtney. I'm not toying with you anymore."

Without hesitating, Courtney flipped the safety off and fired, grazing him in the shoulder. He laughed and continued toward her. "You're a terrible shot. Didn't Dylan teach you to shoot better than that?" He sneered as he came closer.

She fired again, this time hitting him in the chest. His gaze pierced through her at the realization of what she had done. "Bitch." He snarled as shock set in. As he took his final step forward, Courtney fired a final time, hitting him in the chest again.

Michael's face went blank as he collapsed, landing face down on the carpet in front of her. She closed her eyes, shaking uncontrollably as she dropped the pistol on the floor at her side. She drew her knees to her chest, running her fingers through her hair as she balled her fists. There was no stopping the tears that came.

The scream that she heard didn't sound like it should have come from her. She couldn't control it as she broke down into hysterics.

She looked at Michael's lifeless body on the floor and cried out.

"Somebody please, help me!" She screamed, sobbing as she rocked back and forth, her back hitting the wall repeatedly. Tears blinded her eyes as she slipped into shock at what she had done.

For a split second, she felt guilt and remorse. She had taken a life. A life that would have taken hers eventually.

Courtney didn't hear the pounding on her door. She had checked out, lost in a trance as she shook and cried. "It's finally over. Really over." She mumbled to herself repeatedly as she stared up at the ceiling.

Moments later, the neighborhood was engulfed in sirens and lights as the police responded to the neighbors' 911 calls.

When the first officers broke through the door, they instantly saw Courtney. Two officers rushed to her as two more converged on the dead body on the floor before her.

"Courtney?" The officer asked. "Can you hear me?" She nodded blankly in response. "Did you shoot him?" She nodded again affirmatively. "Where's the gun?" He asked tensely. Courtney moved her leg, revealing Dylan's pistol to the officer.

"Can you stand up?" The second officer asked. "We need to get you out of here." He reached a hand out toward her gently. Courtney grabbed his extended hand, and as he pulled her up, she winced as she glanced at his body one last time.

The two officers ushered her out of her house as a pair of paramedics rushed by them.

Moments later, as she stood next to the squad car with an officer, Courtney heard a call for the coroner come over the radio. She began shaking nervously as the gravity of the situation began to hit her.

He was dead. There was no reviving him this time. She had pulled the trigger, and ended her own nightmare.

It was finally over this time. He'd never lay a hand on her again. He couldn't torment and manipulate her any longer. He would never prey on her mind again. He was gone.

The tears that fell from her eyes now were tears of relief. She would finally be safe.

Six weeks later, she stood alone in the cemetery. A cold November wind blew briskly, blowing her hair into her eyes as she stared at the stone. She had to see it for herself. She needed the proof that he was gone. It was now undeniable.

"I survived you, Michael." She sighed. "You were wrong. I don't feel guilty." She said quietly as she stared at his name carved into the cold granite. "It's over."

She blinked slowly, releasing her final thoughts as she turned the collar of her coat up against the wind. Her green eyes shimmered, reflecting the last rays of the late afternoon sun as she turned and walked away.