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Royal honed in, lowering his thick arms. “I said, do you enjoy fucking?”
My flesh surged like bacon, unsure if he was asking me for informational purposes or proposing something. Either way, I wasn’t feeling it.
I gripped my bag, Hershey inside. I didn’t think he’d seen her. I’d already gotten her inside. I swallowed. “Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you’re here,” he said, eyes appraising the length of me. “In my space.”
“Your space?”
He nodded once. “So if you’re here, you either enjoy watching people fuck or enjoy fucking since that’s the only thing people do in here.”
Blanching, I hadn’t been explained all that yet. I guess that makes sense why he was in here the other day… and maybe now.
Feeling a little stupid that I hadn’t picked up on that, I tightened the hold on my bag, watching as Royal got closer.
“Which is it exactly for you, then?” he asked, rounding my side. “December, right?”
Not surprised he knew who I was considering his position in this place and his apparent connection to my sister, I stood tall.
“Neither.” I started to pass him, but a clip of his shoulder halted me, his smell cool and delicious as it danced over my tongue.
He followed my shoulder up to my eyes, and never having been this close, the flecks of green in his were a kaleidoscope of colors, an array of broken glass in a wide sea.
“Stay out of my space,” he threatened, an unmasked challenge in his whisper. He backed off. “I don’t want to see you in here again.”
My breath returned only after he left my breathing space and the whimpering puppy in my hands finally made me move my legs. I got Hershey and myself together, then left behind Royal, keeping my distance as much as I could, to head to the car I knew waited to take me home.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: WTF
So it’s your sister. Remember me? Well, let me reacquaint myself. My name is December Regina Lindquist. I’m eighteen years old this past August. I’m a senior at Windsor Preparatory Academy in Maywood Heights, population 150,000. I’m a vegan, and I miss my sister…
Now, tell me who exactly are you?
- December
P.S. Em is mad at you. :(
Four
Aunt Celeste called as I crossed the threshold of the house, a whimpering puppy on my back and speed in my feet. I had to convince Hubert to turn the music up in the car just so he wouldn’t hear her, no doubt scaring the shit out of my little puppy. I was sure she was already traumatized enough for the day.
I knew I was.
Letting my phone ring for a second, I pulled my bag off my back.
“You have to be quiet, little girl,” I soothed, unzipping her free. The moment she could she stood on her hind legs in the bag, her little tail wagging on overdrive as she sported her happy dog smile.
Jesus, you’re so cute.
Nudging her with a finger, I answered Aunt Celeste’s call in the safety of my bedroom. Traditionally, Dad didn’t tend to make an appearance until at least seven o’ clock, a traditional workaholic in its purest form.
I thanked the world for small favors.
Phone in hand, I stripped off my tights and heels during an Aunt Celeste check-in. She definitely wasn’t one to hover, but with me being here, she’d called a time or four since I arrived. She just wanted to know that I was okay and didn’t need anything. After all, she had pretty much raised me.
