Chapter Nine: Getting Even
Jack left work early the next day.
He couldn't focus. Couldn't think. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Leena beneath Rider, heard her gasping his name, felt the betrayal cutting through him like a knife.
He'd texted Leena that morning—a single message: Going out after work. Don't wait up.
She'd responded immediately: Jack, please. Can we talk?
He'd turned off his phone.
Now he sat at the bar of a hotel downtown, nursing his third whiskey. The place was upscale but not pretentious—dark wood, leather seats, soft jazz playing in the background. The kind of place where people came to forget their problems.
Jack was trying very hard to forget.
"Well, well. Jack Morrison."
He looked up to find Hela sliding onto the barstool next to him. She was dressed in a tight black dress that left little to the imagination, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. Her smile was predatory.
"Hela." Jack's voice was flat. "What are you doing here?"
"Same thing you are, I imagine." She signaled the bartender. "Vodka martini, dirty." Her eyes moved back to Jack. "Drowning our sorrows."
"I'm not in the mood for company."
"Oh, I think you are." Hela leaned closer, her perfume enveloping him. "You look like a man who needs to talk. Or drink. Or fuck. Maybe all three."
Jack's jaw clenched. "Go away, Hela."
"Why? Because I'm reminding you of what happened?" Her smile widened. "Because I know exactly where your wife was last night? And who she was with?"
"Fuck you."
"That's the spirit." Hela's martini arrived, and she took a long sip. "You know, Rider told me all about it. Said Leena was... enthusiastic."
Jack's hands tightened around his glass. "Stop."
"He took pictures, you know." Hela pulled out her phone, scrolling through it casually. "Want to see?"
"No."
"Are you sure? Because they're quite... revealing." She turned the phone toward him.
Jack's eyes moved to the screen before he could stop himself.
And there she was. Leena. Lying on a hotel bed, her hair spread across the pillow, her body naked and flushed. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, and there were marks on her neck—hickeys, bite marks. She looked thoroughly fucked.
And satisfied.
Something inside Jack shattered.
"Get that away from me," he said, his voice shaking.
"Why? It's just a picture." Hela put the phone away, her expression almost sympathetic. "But it hurts, doesn't it? Seeing her like that. Knowing another man made her look that way."
Jack drained his whiskey in one gulp and signaled for another.
"You know what the worst part is?" Hela continued, her voice soft. "She enjoyed it. Rider said she came three times. Three. When was the last time you made her come three times, Jack?"
"Shut up."
"I'm just being honest." Hela's hand landed on his thigh, her fingers tracing small circles. "You're a good man, Jack. You don't deserve this. You don't deserve to be humiliated while your wife fucks around behind your back."
"She said it was a mistake."
"Did she?" Hela's laugh was bitter. "And you believe her? Jack, sweetheart, if it was a mistake, she wouldn't have looked so happy in those pictures."
Jack's new drink arrived, and he took a long swallow. The alcohol was starting to blur the edges of his pain, but not enough. Not nearly enough.
"You want to know what I think?" Hela leaned in, her lips near his ear. "I think you need to get even."
"What?"
"Get even." Her hand moved higher on his thigh. "She got to fuck Rider. So you should get to fuck me. That's only fair, right?"
Jack turned to look at her, his vision slightly unfocused. "You're insane."
"Am I? Or am I the only one making sense right now?" Hela's eyes were dark, intense. "You're sitting here, drinking yourself into oblivion, while she's probably at home feeling sorry for herself. But you know what? She doesn't get to be the victim here. She cheated. She broke the rules. And you... you deserve to feel good too."
"This isn't about feeling good."
"No. It's about revenge." Hela's smile was sharp. "It's about showing her that two can play this game. It's about taking back some of your power."
Jack shook his head, but the movement made him dizzy. "I can't."
"Why not? Because you're a good husband?" Hela laughed. "Jack, she stopped being a good wife the moment she spread her legs for Rider. You don't owe her loyalty anymore."
"I'm not like her."
"No, you're better than her. Which is exactly why you should do this." Hela's hand moved to his face, turning him to look at her. "I booked a room upstairs. Room 412. The only way to get over this pain is to get even. To show her—and yourself—that you're not going to be her doormat."
Jack's mind was spinning. The alcohol, the anger, the hurt—it was all mixing together into something toxic and overwhelming.
"She fucked him," Hela whispered. "Without your permission. Without your knowledge. She betrayed you in the worst possible way. Don't you want to hurt her back? Just a little?"
"I..." Jack's voice cracked. "I don't know."
"Yes, you do." Hela stood up, her hand extended. "Come with me, Jack. Let me help you forget. Let me help you get even."
Jack stared at her hand for a long moment.
He should say no. Should go home. Should try to fix his marriage, not destroy it further.
But the image of Leena in that photo—satisfied, marked, thoroughly fucked by another man—burned in his mind.
And suddenly, he wanted to hurt her the way she'd hurt him.
Jack took Hela's hand.
----------------------------------------------------
The hotel room was identical to a thousand others—king bed, generic art on the walls, city lights visible through the window. Hela closed the door behind them and turned to face Jack.
"Last chance to back out," she said, but her smile suggested she knew he wouldn't.
Jack didn't respond. He just grabbed her, his hands rough on her waist, and kissed her hard.
Hela moaned into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his neck. "That's it," she breathed. "Let it out."
Jack's hands moved to her dress, yanking it up over her hips. He wasn't gentle. Wasn't careful. He was angry and hurt and desperate, and he channeled all of it into his touch.
"Fuck me like you hate me," Hela whispered against his lips. "Like I'm her."
Something in Jack snapped.
He spun Hela around, bending her over the desk near the window. She gasped as he yanked her panties down, not bothering to remove them completely.
"Is this what you want?" Jack's voice was harsh, unrecognizable. "You want me to use you?"
"Yes," Hela moaned. "God, yes."
Jack fumbled with his belt, his hands shaking with rage and alcohol and desperation. When he freed his cock, he was already hard—not from desire, but from anger. From the need to hurt something, someone, the way he'd been hurt.
He pushed into Hela without warning, and she cried out.
"Fuck! Jack—"
"Shut up." Jack's hands gripped her hips bruisingly as he began to thrust. "Just shut the fuck up."
He fucked her brutally, each thrust driven by rage. He thought of Leena beneath Rider. Thought of her moaning his name. Thought of those marks on her neck, the satisfied look on her face.
"Harder," Hela gasped, pushing back against him. "Fuck me harder."
Jack obliged, his hips slamming against her ass. The desk scraped against the floor with each thrust. Hela's hands scrabbled for purchase on the smooth surface.
"You like this?" Jack growled. "You like being fucked like a whore?"
"Yes! God, yes!"
Jack's hand came down on her ass, hard. Hela yelped, but the sound was more pleasure than pain. He spanked her again, leaving red handprints on her pale skin.
"This is what she wanted," Jack said, his voice breaking. "This is what she needed. Someone to fuck her like she doesn't matter."
"Then fuck me like I don't matter," Hela moaned. "Use me. Hurt me. I can take it."
Jack pulled out suddenly and flipped Hela onto her back on the desk. Her dress was bunched around her waist, her breasts spilling out of her bra. She looked debauched, desperate.
He pushed back inside her, his hands moving to her throat.
"Is this what Rider did to her?" Jack's fingers tightened slightly. "Did he choke her while he fucked her?"
"Yes," Hela gasped, her eyes rolling back. "He did. She loved it."
Jack's grip tightened more, and Hela's face flushed. Her hands came up to his wrists, but she didn't push him away. She just held on, her body arching beneath him.
"You're going to come for me," Jack commanded, his voice harsh. "You're going to come on my cock like she came on his."
"Yes," Hela choked out. "Yes, I'm close—"
Jack released her throat and moved his hand between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He rubbed it roughly, without finesse, and Hela's body convulsed.
"Fuck! Jack! I'm—"
She came with a scream, her pussy clenching around him. Jack kept thrusting through her orgasm, chasing his own release with single-minded determination.
When he came, it was with a roar of rage and pain. He buried himself deep inside Hela, his entire body shaking as he emptied himself into her.
For a moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breathing.
Then reality crashed back in.
Jack pulled out and stumbled backward, his legs weak. He looked down at Hela—sprawled on the desk, her dress torn, her body marked with his handprints and fingerprints.
"What the fuck did I just do?" he whispered.
Hela sat up slowly, wincing. She adjusted her dress and slid off the desk, her movements careful. When she looked at Jack, her expression was almost gentle.
"You got even," she said simply.
"I—" Jack couldn't finish. He felt sick. Disgusted with himself. "I shouldn't have—"
"But you did." Hela walked over to him, her hand touching his face. "And now you and Leena are even. She fucked Rider. You fucked me. The scales are balanced."
"That's not how this works."
"Isn't it?" Hela's smile was sad. "Jack, you needed this. You needed to feel like you had some control. Some power. And now you do."
Jack shook his head, but he couldn't deny the truth in her words. For the first time since discovering Leena's betrayal, he didn't feel completely powerless.
He felt... something. Not better. But different.
"What do I do now?" he asked quietly.
"Now?" Hela picked up her purse and pulled out her phone. "Now you go home. You tell Leena what you did. And you see if your marriage can survive both of you being cheaters."
"She'll never forgive me."
"Maybe not." Hela headed for the door, then paused. "But at least now you're on equal footing. At least now she can't hold her moral superiority over you."
She left without another word, the door clicking shut behind her.
Jack stood alone in the hotel room, his body still trembling, his mind reeling.
He'd crossed a line. Become exactly what he'd accused Leena of being.
A cheater. A liar. Someone who broke their vows.
But she did it first, a voice in his head whispered. She started this.
Jack grabbed his clothes and dressed mechanically. His hands were still shaking. His heart was still pounding.
When he looked at himself in the mirror, he barely recognized the man staring back.
Hollow eyes. Clenched jaw. The face of someone who'd lost everything and was desperately trying to hurt back.
What's happening to me? he thought. What am I becoming?
But he already knew the answer.
He was becoming someone capable of revenge.
Someone capable of cruelty.
Someone who would do whatever it took to make the pain stop.
Even if it meant destroying himself in the process.
Jack left the hotel room and walked out into the night, the weight of what he'd done settling over him like a shroud.
He'd gotten even.
But he'd also lost another piece of himself.
And he wasn't sure how many more pieces he could afford to lose before there was nothing left.