Home is part two of a story all about Clive. A complicated young man. You can catch up on the first episode here.
Content Notice ~ Contains graphic imagery.
Part Two ~ Home
Sergeant Cotton and Constable Wilkins dropped me back at my flat. They were the first surveillance shift and would be parked nearby until the next guys took over sometime in the middle of the night. It felt weird to know I was being protected. Me. Who’d of thought it?
I felt a surge of relief to be back home. Finally alone with my own thoughts. To try and make sense of the last ten days. But as I let myself in my sister came to the door.
“Ah, Sis… What the hell are you doing here?” I said. Marie’s my only sibling. Ten years younger – an afterthought. Looking at her it suddenly hit me she was now the same age as I had been when I first met Clive. Seventeen.
“Give over Rose. It was me or Mum. I volunteered. Being as you two can’t stop arguing for five minutes.”
“You know I have round the clock surveillance? Just look outside.”
We both glanced out the living room window. There they were – Cotton and Wilkins, stuffing their faces with burgers and swigging litre bottles of coke. Who could blame them? They must be bored stiff. After all my road is a cul-de-sac. Hardly any action day or night. Unless you count Carl at number 4a. He was forever rolling in at 5a.m. Singing and dropping his key before he managed to find the lock.
“I’ll just stay a couple of nights Rosie. Come on. They are concerned about you. Fuck’s sake, you could have been killed! They never liked that weirdo. Anyhow, I got exams on Tuesday – I’ll keep out of your way and revise. OK?”
I nodded my reply. Marie curtsied and smiled before disappearing into the spare room.
Collapsing on the sofa I picked up a newspaper little Sis must have brought with her; The Daily Herald. The rag was folded on page seven where there was a piece about Clive. Thank goodness the police had kept my name and identity private for the time being.
Picking up my reading glasses I skimmed over the article. My pulse accelerating slightly.
The Diamond Cut Lingerie Killer
Following months of speculation and rumour, it appears the identity of the DCLK can now be revealed as Clive Burke, a 27 year old man from Edgeware. It is alleged that during the last two years he has murdered at least four young women in the Greater London area. All the victims were abducted close to a railway station where they were starting or finishing a journey.
Evidence suggests Mr Burke attacked each of his victims with a chloroform-soaked cloth, smothering the mouth and nose with the fumes. It appears he carried them to a nearby vehicle and drove out of town to secluded spots where the bodies were later discovered, fully clothed except for traces of underwear. The remnants of underwear were discarded at the crime scenes. One specific detail from the killings distinguishes these murders. On every occasion, a diamond-shaped piece of material had been cut from the gusset of the lingerie and taken -as a trophy, police sources have implied.
Walking into the kitchen I deposited the Herald in the bin and poured myself a triple shot of JD, adding a handful of ice. I perched at the breakfast bar and sipped my drink. It was then I realised I was shaking. The ice in the glass rattled against the side of the tumbler. I felt cold and lost. Clive. Why? Wrapping both hands around my drink I raised it and gulped down the bourbon. The spirit immediately made my head and gut spin. I hadn’t eaten all day. I didn’t feel hungry, just nauseous. Still shivering, I changed into fleece pyjamas and went to bed.
My mind awash with thoughts and feelings. Clive. A killer. Suddenly my memories took over and spiralled back to the evening I moved in with him.
I was only eighteen.I had finished my A Levels and Mum wanted me to go to university. But I’d already got myself a job. Straight in as assistant manager at the local Weatherspoons. The pay was good and I was on the fast track to become an regional manager. I wanted to be in hospitality. This would be a great start.
“Rosie Redmond, you are expecting three A grades. Weatherspoons! Whatever possessed you to even apply?” My Mum grumbled. “ You’ve offers from Edinburgh and Durham already.”
“Mum it’s my life. Why don’t you concentrate on Marie? Perhaps she won’t be such a disappointment to you.”
It seemed I couldn’t do anything right in her eyes.
“Well. If it’s your life perhaps you should think about leaving home and finding your own place to live.” With that she stormed out of the room.
I knew mum wasn’t serious but I wanted to get back at her so I grabbed a few bits and literally ran over to Clive’s place.
He opened the door, saw my bag and grinned.
By this point we had been seeing each other about 6 months. So much had happened. His parents had both died meaning he’d been able to afford a nice place on the outskirts of town; quiet and respectable. When he’d given me his mum’s pendant we’d become closer. Mentally and physically. I mean, I was his only friend and seemed to understand how difficult it was for him, due to his background. I suppose I made allowances. And there was something about the way he used to look at me that sent tingles down my spine. When we kissed I wanted more. I needed his hands on my body but… he hardly ever touched me. I put it down to respect.
That night we both knew I was moving in. After we shared a hug he pulled me to bed. We stripped and under the covers our limbs became entangled as he gently, yet firmly, caressed my skin.
I pushed my boobs against his chest and my lips to his and it was as if the moment overtook him. Under the glow of a candle burning in the corner of the room, Clive slid on top of me, sinking his fingers into my cunt followed by the tip of his cock. I wasn’t a virgin. Billy Steins had fucked me behind the youth club hall when I was sixteen. I’d agreed. Wanting to get the first time over and done with. I suppose when I met Clive a little bit of me wished I’d waited. I felt so at home with him. Safe. There’s irony for you.
Slowly Clive’s cock sunk in deeper. His elbows acting as support, he began to thrust, bending to kiss me as he built up momentum. His cock was a good size. Filling me. Creating friction that I knew would tip me over the edge. I could smell him. The scent of clean, fresh sweat. Inhaling, I bounced my hips up and wrapped my legs around him. I wanted this; wanted Clive; it felt right.
Would you believe we both climaxed together? Then he slumped down on top of me and I swear he was crying. It was difficult to tell because his face was buried in my neck and he was whispering words of love, holding my body as if his life depended on it. I think it was his first time. I knew it was his first time. It seemed like he gave a piece of himself to me that night.
We fell into a deep sleep, our bodies entwined, satisfied.
Header image use for Home Part Two is from Unsplash