AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m feeling that same sense of lightness, of clarity, but I’m also starting to freak out just a little bit. Why can’t I remember what just happened? What the fuck is wrong with me?
“You look scared,” he says.
“I am scared. Why don’t I remember what we just did?”
“Because you don’t want to.”
That sure as fuck doesn’t make me feel any better.
Dane watches me, shadows rippling around the room, candles burned low and guttering, sending up tendrils of smoke. His eyes glitter and his hair is wild as a windstorm.
I feel a deep sense of dread. Dane’s phone sits on the bookcase, red eye still recording. But I no longer want to look.
“Are you afraid?” he asks softly. “To see yourself?”
“Yes,” I admit. “Why? Why am I afraid?”
“Because you want to believe you’re in control. And you’re afraid to see what you look like when you aren’t.”
I stand, disturbed by the deep, flat black outside the windows. How much time has passed?
There’s more than one Remi…
My heart clenches, heat racing down each nerve. It’s panic, it’s terror, and it spikes each time I look in the direction of the phone.
“I don’t want to see!” I cry suddenly. “Get that away from me.”
“Remi—“
“No! I’m leaving. This is—I don’t know what this is. I don’t know what you want from me.”
I’m in a full-out panic, searching for my stuff, forgetting what I even brought inside.
“Don’t touch me!” I cry as Dane reaches for my arm.
He’s not trying to catch me. He stands there watching as I storm out of his house, all the doors left open behind me.
* * *
Blackleaf is dark and quiet,and Jude’s moped is absent from the yard.
Half of me worries why he’s out so late, but the other half feels relief. I’m so damned tired, I don’t have the energy to talk, not even to my brother.
My body’s throbbing, sore muscles, blisters on my hands and feet, but also tenderness in more delicate places…my nipples rub against my shirt, the cotton rough as sandpaper against sensitive skin.
I barely left Dane’s house and already I’m craving his hands on me again.
Half remembered touches flit through my head—his lips on my neck, my bare pussy grinding against his thigh…
Are they real or only delirium?
I can’t shake the mindfuck of all those blank, forgotten hours.
But neither can I shake the memories of his hands on my skin…
I take a short, cold shower, the pipes shuddering and groaning. Without a shower curtain, it’s easy to see myself reflected in the cracked mirror, writhing like a wraith beneath the cold spray.
The magnet flips a dozen times, back and forth, back and forth…
