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I lock up and head home. It’s both very late and very early when I slide my key into the porch lock and step inside.
My jeans are filthy on the knees, my cock is slick with everything she had to give me. I feel gloriously fucking filthy and that’s enough to bring a smile to my lips.
A big fucking smile.
Crazy girl. She really is a fucking crazy girl.
I’m heading upstairs for a shower and bed when I notice the bottle on the coffee table. It stops me in my tracks.
No glasses, just the bottle of vintage scotch from our drinks cabinet. My fucking finest.
Serena doesn’t drink scotch.
No sign of a glass, which means some asshole was necking it straight from the bottle. But that surprises me none.
I find an ashtray outside the back door. Five butts mashed inside.
Well, fuck.
My first fucking night away from this place since Mariana passed and that sonofabitch comes calling. Waltzing in like he’s still fucking welcome here.
I take a breath before I clear the cigarette butts into the trash and put the scotch back where it belongs. I take another as my pulse races and the anger spits in my gut.
I’m fierce in the shower, scrubbing away every trace of my beautiful stranger while I simmer at the thought of the motherfucker who used to be my brother being loose in my fucking house.
So close to my sleeping boy. My sleeping boy. Mine.
Because it was my fucking girlfriend who died in that fucking fire. My fucking life that burnt up with her.
There’s enough tension for a whole fucking lifetime in my wrist as I jerk my cock and force myself back to happier moments from this evening.
So many pleasures to sample and not nearly enough time. I didn’t taste her, didn’t pin her legs high and feast on that wet cunt of hers until she screamed. I didn’t get to see the whites of her eyes as I fucked her face to face. Didn’t feel her moans against my lips. Didn’t stretch that tight little asshole until she begged me to stop for real.
Fuck.
I’m out of the shower just as soon as I’ve shot my load.
It takes everything not to reactivate my profile and thank her for a good time. I’m tense in bed and thinking of her, of her sweet sad soul and the train wreck of baggage she carries on her shoulders as the whole damn world plays ignorant.
Just like they do with me.
She’s a fractured mirror reflecting my own fucking brokenness.
A beautiful demon in the darkness whispering my name.
Her tragedy could eat me up and hold me tight, but mine…
Mine could bury her alive.
Burn her alive.
Light is breaking on the horizon outside, but it’s fading on the glorious distraction I’ve been living these past few weeks.
I know how the story ends if two fucked up souls play at life together. I know how the story ends when two people’s demons hold hands.
Abigail Rachel Summers is everything I need, all at once.
And absolutely nothing I should ever do again.It’s bright when I open my eyes; so much for hearing the alarm.
It takes me a moment to register I’m not alone. The tiny body next to me is barely a lump under the covers. His hair is a dark little nest on the pillow.
He’s pretending to be asleep. He’d have fooled me if I hadn’t seen the twitch of his head.
“Morning, bud,” I greet, and scoop the lad under my forearm. He’s smiling as he presses to my chest, giggling silently as I tickle him under the arms and pretend to be a monster for the second time in recent hours.
I can’t remember the last time I stayed in bed long enough for him to join me. I’d forgotten how good it felt to have his tiny body so snug against mine.
Tiny fingers trace the ink on my chest then rise to beep my nose. I know this game.
“Want some breakfast?” I ask, but he shakes his head.
I wish he’d just find the words to tell me what he’s thinking. What he’s feeling. What he wants from me.
I take a chance on it, wrapping him in arms that could crush him to dust but would do anything to protect him. It’s the right call. Little arms wrap around my neck and squeeze right back. My fingers tickle his scalp and I breathe in the smell of his sea monster shampoo.
“I love you,” I tell him, and I’d give anything in the world to hear it back.
What I get instead is another beep on the nose.
That’ll have to do for now.
I know the twinkle in his eyes when I ruffle his hair. I know he’s ready to get up when he kicks the covers up in the air to make a fort out of them.
“Ready for breakfast now?” I ask, and he nods.
