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“Okay, anyway…” I scooted off the bed, wincing at the residual soreness. Fort took my arm, stopping me before I could leave the room.
“Let me look at you.” He turned me, brushing a hand over my bottom with a low whistle. “Someone did a number on you last night, Sparkles. Your ass is a mess.”
“I’m pretty sure that someone was you.” I smiled in answer to his undisguised delight. “Are you proud of yourself?”
“Yes, very. Don’t pass out when you look in the mirror.”
“I’ll try not to.”
Just like that, I really wanted to go to The Gallery again. I went into the bathroom—which I was starting to think of as “my” bathroom—and turned my ass to the mirror. God, it was something to behold. Lines and bruises, none of them overly garish, no broken skin, but still, it looked awful. I understood his satisfied expression now. There was something about the pleasure he took in his sadistic conquests, and of course, I found pleasure in them too.
I took a long shower, cleaned up, and put on the clothes he’d lent me. They looked silly on my shorter frame, but they were soft, which was a boon to my sore and sensitive skin. When I returned to his bedroom, he was dressed also. Jeans? Sigh, it would be days before I could tolerate jeans. He was putting my coat on a hanger, with my uniform pieces in a bag underneath.
“Hey, you should probably look at your phone,” he said over his shoulder. “A buttload of messages came through as soon as your phone powered on. I didn’t read them. Okay, I glanced at the last few. Your boss is a loon.”
“Goodluck texted me?” He didn’t do that very often. He preferred showing up at my apartment at all hours and banging on my door. But if he hadn’t been able to find me…
I scrolled through to the beginning of the text storm, noting the liberal use of emojis and capital letters.
“Crap, he’s been looking for me since last night.” I’d set my phone to silent, and neglected to check my messages before I fell into Fort’s bed. “Sometimes he just really wants to talk about things.”
“He seemed to want to talk about candlelight,” Fort said, looking over my shoulder.
I lit a candle. Please come see.
STARCOMET
COME SEE
After that he texted three flame emojis, and a dozen or so exclamation marks.
Pls answer SC. You have never seen anything like these dancing shadows.
The texts went on, two dozen or more about five minutes apart, talking about candles and scents, and how flames could be magic. He asked me repeatedly how he’d never noticed this magic before. Someone who didn’t know him would assume Goodluck was high, but he never used drugs.
I scrolled down to the most recent ones.
Why aren’t you answering me? I need to talk to you.
I’m going to do a show w/candles. Theme of candles, light on people’s faces. OK?
OK??????
He followed that with alternating skull and fire emojis, three solid lines.
PLS ANSWER ME
YOU KNOW I AM YOUR BOSS
I just lit another candle. The flame is like a new spirit, calming me.
Sorry I was angry.
I AM STILL ANGRY WHERE ARE YOU
?????????????????
DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND ABOUT THESE SHADOWS??? What is in the shadows, Starcomet? WHAT?!
