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The Forgotten Girl
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Текст книги "The Forgotten Girl"


Автор книги: Jessica Sorensen



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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

Chapter 22

Maddie

I’m moving out of the house. I haven’t told my mom yet, but I can’t do it anymore. Crazy or not, being cooped up in the house with her lies, locks, and alarms is making my situation worse. I’ll get my own place. Go to work and spend the rest of the time by myself, trying to piece together my past, who I was, why I was locked up, and what happened to my sister. That I can do—I’m better at being alone anyway. Although I’m never really alone. I always have Lily. Part of me wonders if maybe I created her out of my sister. Perhaps when I lost my sister Lily, my Lily arose. But the idea is kind of frightening, because my Lily is frightening, which makes me wonder what my sister was like.

Over the next couple of days, I start looking for places to live and a new job, one that will satisfy my darker cravings, one where I can start over, and get some help from someone who isn’t my mother. I’m looking through the classifieds in the newspaper, trying to ignore the best that I can the picture of Bella on page nine, when my phone rings. River’s name flashes on the screen and I freeze. He never calls me, not outside of work, which makes me wonder why he is now. I think I know and even though part of me doesn’t want to know, the other part has to know, whether I need to be worried or not.

He starts off by asking me how I am, acting casual—too casual—I know something’s up and I think I know it before he even asks it—the real reason he’s calling me. He continues casually asking me why I haven’t been to work. “Is it because of Sydney’s death? Or because Bella’s gone missing?” he questions. “I know it must be hard for you, losing people you know.” The fact that he says it, tells me just how little he knows about me. Sometimes I think I’m numb to almost everything going on around me. I hardly feel any emotions except toward Lily. And fear when I’m put in a panicking situation.

“Yes and no,” I respond evasively, wondering if the police have talked to him yet. Perhaps that’s where the casualness is stemming from.

“Well, I hope you won’t stay away from work forever,” he says, then gives and elongated pause. “I kind of miss you… I know the place seems kind of cursed. At least that’s what people are saying right now, but I assure you the bar had nothing to do with either of their disappearances.”

I want to ask him how he can be so sure, but I bite my tongue. “How could you possibly miss me, River? You barely know me.” I barely know me.

“That’s not true…” he struggles for an answer. “I miss spending time with you… you should really come in today, even if it’s to talk. And your job’s still waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to come back.”

“I can’t do that,” I say, lying down on my bed and staring at the key on my nightstand, the one I found in my mother’s room. “Besides, I’m moving.”

“Where?”

“I’m not sure yet, but I’m figuring it out.”

He pauses, his breathing heavy on the other end. “Maddie, I don’t think you should go anywhere right now.”

“Why not?” I put the key in my pocket. I don’t even know why or if I’m the one who did it.

River pauses for the third time. “Maddie, we really need to talk,” he says as I roll over on my back and stare up at the ceiling. “It’s important.”

I tense. The way his voice deepens it carries a warning and it sends Goosebumps erupting across my skin and I uncontrollably shiver. He knows something.

“About what?” My voice is rickety just like my pulse.

“Come to the bar and talk,” he says, his tone lightening. “I’ll be at my office in about ten minutes.”

“I can’t do that,” I repeat as I sit up on the bed. “Trust me River, this is for your own good.”

“Maddie, this is important,” he stresses. “Just get down here as soon as you can.”

I grind my teeth in frustration, more with myself than anything. I should have been better with the detective, given him a better answer to why I was at Sydney’s crime scene that morning, because that has to be what this is about. Either that or it could be about Bella. Have the police gone to her apartment and found the bloody mess? Have they linked me to that somehow? But why would they go to River about that? I need to find out, just how much they—River—knows.

“Fine.” I get up from my bed, cross the room, and peek out the curtain at the sound of thunder. What will happen when I go back into the real world again? Around people. Around River. What if I lose control? What if I get arrested? Locked up again? What if the police show up? “I’ll be there in like an hour.”

You’re making a big mistake.

“Drive safe,” he says casually, his voice shifting to its normal, friendly tone. Like he didn’t just make things weird between us.

I don’t say anything, just hang up. I put the phone in my pocket, not bothering to cover up the short black skirt, knee-high socks, and tight t-shirt I’m wearing. My mom’s not home to see me, but quite honestly it doesn’t really matter anymore if she sees me dressed like this. I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be today, a mixture of someone, perhaps Lily and Maddie.

I pull on a jacket as I prepare to head out because it looks like it’s going to rain, heavy clouds rolling in, a grumble of lightning in the distance. I hate the rain. I go over to the security box and try to unset the alarm, even though I don’t know the code. After several failed attempts, Lily gets irritated and pretty much forces me to walk out the door, setting off the alarm and sprinting out into the rain.

I take the bus because it’s the only form of transportation I have at the moment. On my way there, I debate getting off and taking another bus that goes up to the foothills, taking a detour up to the cabin, and just blowing off River completely. I haven’t seen Ryland since the night Sydney was killed. I want to talk to him about it, because he’s the only one I can talk to openly, but at the same time I fear that even he might think twice about being near me if I divulged I think I might have killed someone. What is his limit? How much is too much? Do I trust him No. I don’t trust anyone.

But I need to go see River and find out what he knows, whether I want to or not. So I head to the bar. By the time I get there, raindrops are splattering against the window and the ground like the blood I see in my memories. I can hardly see through it, it’s coming down so hard. I can make out the building across the street as the bus slows to a stop; the parking lot where I saw Sydney splattered in her own blood. I try to picture myself luring her over there. What would I have said that would make her go with me. Maybe we were fighting and she tried to run away from me. Maybe I chased her down and then just at the right moment, I stabbed her multiple times. But where would I get the knife? And what about Bella? Why would I hurt her? I liked her, well more than I liked anyone else.

“I think I really did it,” I say as I get off the bus and once again Lily has nothing to say. “It seems so easy to picture—someone dying because of me. And what happened at Bella’s… I can’t deny the blood.”

I stand on the sidewalk, staring at the bar, afraid of going inside. I listen to the rain drown the world. The thunder boom. The lightning crash. I remain there until a memory of me wrapping my fingers around a woman’s neck starts to slither into me, a venomous snake slipping its fangs into my skin. Until I can feel the rain drenching my body, the cold concrete against my flesh, hear the deep voice calling me a whore and that I deserve to be punished, see the flames ignite through the storm, her voice that sounds just like mine telling me not to be weak, to do whatever it takes to be strong. Be the darkness within you. It’s so much easier. Once it gets to that place, I jog inside, trying to outrun the images, but they’re always behind me, chasing at my heels.

The bar is empty as I stumble in, drenched in rain from head to toe. The place doesn’t open for another half of an hour. The faint smell of sweat and tequila is in the air, the lights are low, the chairs turned up. I think about the last time I was here. The chill of the freezer. The voice. The blood. I try to remember the rest. Connect the dots, but everything is still hazy.

I find River in his office, just like he said, talking on the phone. Lily is screaming inside me. Don’t do it! And then suddenly she’s out, walking around in River’s now clean office—he must have had someone clean up in here.

“No Glen, I don’t think this is a good idea.” He shakes his head as I stand in the doorway and wait quietly while he talks on the phone. “I don’t want to be a part of it anymore.” A pause. “Look, I don’t fucking care if I owe you, this is wrong… not to mention illegal.”

“Hmmm… interesting…” Lily says, watching him have the heated conversation. “He’s doing things with Glen, the drug trafficker.”

I want to ask what she’s implying but that would require talking aloud and making me look as insane as I am. So instead I stand there, listening to River argue with Glen while Lily wanders over to a shelf, glances at a stack of papers, then grins at me and says, “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

I’m about to go over there when River sees me and his face drains of color. “I have to go. I’ll call you later.” He quickly hangs up. He stares at me for a moment or two then casually says, “We seriously need to get a bell on you so I know when you’re coming.”

I don’t respond, trying to measure him up before I go any further into the office. He looks the same as he always does, faded jeans, a dark grey shirt, a hint of scruff on his jawline, and he has a beanie on his head. He doesn’t seem afraid, like he thinks I’m a killer.

But then why did he need to talk to me?

Don’t trust him. No matter what.

“You look tired,” he notes, taking in my appearance as I inch closer to his desk. “And wet. Is it raining outside?”

“It is… and I haven’t been sleeping well.” Deciding I should sit down, I cross the room, combing my fingers through my wet locks of hair. “So what did you want to talk to me about?” I take a seat across from the desk.

He reclines back in the chair, crossing his arms, studying me with his head cocked to the side. Always watching you. “The police came to talk to me this morning,” he says. “They wanted to ask me a couple of questions about Sydney.”

“Oh yeah.” I pick at my nail polish, pretending to be blasé, even though I’m a nervous wreck. “Do they have any leads yet on who they think did it?”

“I don’t think they do yet.” He pauses, making heavy eye contact with me. I know what’s coming even before he says it. “They wanted to ask me a couple of questions about you, too.”

I drop my hand to my lap, refusing to look away from his penetrating gaze. No eye contact shows a guilty conscience. “Oh, yeah? What about?”

“About how you said you were here that morning because apparently we spent the night together.”

I twist a strand of my hair around my finger. “Technically we did.”

He tugs off his beanie and rakes his fingers through his hair, making it stick up in all directions. “Are you in some kind of trouble? The detective seemed really interested in you and if I’d spent the entire night with you or if that was a lie… he seemed convinced that it was.”

I unravel the strand of hair from my finger and put my hands on my lap, stabbing my nails into my legs to channel my anxious energy there. “What did you tell him when he asked?”

He smashes his lips together. One. Two. Three seconds go by. “That you were with me all night.”

I sit up straight in the chair, freeing a trapped out a breath I was holding in my chest. “You lied for me. Why?”

“Because I care about you.” He gives a shrug, like it’s no big deal, when it is. He leans forward and rests his arms on the desk. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m not buying it,” I tell him with skepticism. “You can’t care about someone you hardly know.”

“I know you better than you think,” he says, his tone carrying an underlying meaning that sends a chill up my spine. “You just don’t want to believe I do. You want to be mysterious. Want people not to see who you really are.”

I don’t like where he’s going with this. I slouch back in the chair, keeping eye contact even though I desperately want to look away. “You might think so, but you’re wrong.”

“Am I?” he mumbles to himself without taking his focus off me. He seems so undecided, so confused. “I have to ask you something and I need you to answer me truthfully.”

“What makes you think I’d lie to begin with?” Maybe he does know me better than I thought.

You might want to prepare yourself.

What does that mean?

“Because I know you do a lot,” he says straightforwardly. “But I need you not to lie this time. I need you to give me this for lying to the police to you.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” I remind him. I know I should be being more cooperative, but he’s troubling me with his persistence for the truth. It worries me what he’s going to ask.

“I know you didn’t,” he replies. “But like I said, I did it because—”

“Because you care for me,” I finish for him. Is he being genuine? It seems like it, but I don’t think I’m the best judge to come to this conclusion. I can barely understand myself, let alone another person.

I place my arms on the armrests, knowing I have no choice but to let him ask his question. Whether or not I answer truthfully is an entirely different story. “What do you want to know and I’ll try my best to give you a real answer.”

You better be ready.

He seems undecided, taking a deep breath and exhaling. “I want to know whether I’m talking to Maddie right now… or Lily.”

Chapter 23

Maddie

It takes a moment for my mind to catch up with what he said. Quite honestly, I think I’m having one of my hallucinations. But as River stares at me from across the desk, waiting eagerly for a response, I realize that this is reality. That he did ask me if I was Lily. That somehow he’s discovered my alter ego that might be named after my dead sister. Perhaps he’s even met her. I can’t help but think of the man that broke into the house. He called me Lily… It didn’t sound like River, but still…

“Who’s Lily?” I play dumb, coiling a strand of my hair around my finger.

“Maddie, please don’t do that,” he says in a soft, soothing voice, which seems out of character for someone who knows about the other part of me that has killer tendencies. “Don’t go back to where we started.”

“Where we started? What start? We never had a start, River. We fooled around sometimes. That’s it.” Wow, you’re just as cruel as me. I didn’t think you had it in you. Bravo.

I can’t help but think of the memory of me cutting Lily and how she seemed proud of me when I did it. Why do you like when I’m bad?

Because it’s who you are, yet you fight it so hard. You let fear own you, so afraid of being what you are.

River blows out a frustrated breath. Seconds tick by and I veer toward hyperventilation. I need fresh air. Need to get out of here. I glance at the door, just over my shoulder, wondering if he’d chase me if I bailed. If he did, I could fight him. Hurt him. Maybe even get rid of him. It might be necessary now that he knows.

Before I can budge, he scoots back his chair to get to his feet. “That’s not true. We had a start,” he says, rounding the desk and coming up in front of me, in an intimidating manner. “The start of where you told me who you really were.”

I tip my chin up, eyes narrowed as I slant forward instead of leaning back. I won’t be afraid of him, even if he knows my dirty little secret. “I’m Maddie. That’s it. No one else.”

The corner of his lip tips up and he gives me a half smile, reaching forward and cupping my cheek. “I know that.”

“I’m not this Lily person.” I move from his touch, working to take slow, even breaths. My chest is heaving though like a volcano ready to erupt, and he notices, his attention sliding downward to my breasts. “That would make me crazy.”

He tears his gaze away from my chest, his hand following me, his finger tracing a line back and forth across my cheekbone. His sleeves are rolled up and I can see faint lines of healing wounds up his arms, probably from where I clawed him a week ago. He notices me staring at the marks and pulls his hand away from my cheek to touch them.

“That night when you came up to my office and gave me these,” he begins. “You were calling yourself Lily.”

My breath catches and I quickly clear my throat. “That’s my nickname. Sometimes I like to go by it.”

He shakes his head then drops to his knees in front of me, so we’re at eyelevel. “You told me everything. About Lily. About Maddie. How you two coexist together.” He glances down at his arms then back at me, then places his hands on top of my thighs. “This was of course after you attacked me.”

“Attacked you? I thought you said things got kinky and I got rough.”

“They did. But it started when you burst into the office, strolled up to me, and… wrapped your fingers around my neck.”

Oh my God, Lily. What the fuck did you do?

I was trying to protect us. He sees too much, but things didn’t work out how I planned.

Great job. Now he sees everything.

It was an accident.

How?

She doesn’t respond and I flick my eyes to the door again, which is wide open. All I need to do is distract him and make a run for it.

“Don’t worry,” River says, his hands clamping down on my knee, securing me in place, as if he senses my desire to flee. “You didn’t hurt me… you let go as soon as I asked you to, almost like you didn’t even realize you were doing it. Then after I got you calmed down, you told me… about who you were… about Lily.”

He’s met Lily. Actually talked to her. My lips part, then shut again. Part then shut. “I don’t even know what to say.” I’m racking my brain for a way out of this. Usually Lily takes care of this, but she’s silent, probably enjoying my uneasiness. “Why didn’t you tell me before? Why didn’t you tell me that morning when I couldn’t remember what happened the night before?” It seems suspicious that he didn’t. Most people in his situation would have—most would have reported me to the police or the nearest insane asylum. Maybe he has. Perhaps this is why he wanted me to come here. Maybe at any moment, the police are going to bust in here, handcuff me, and take me away. Lock me up.

Speaking of handcuffs, he has a pair in his top desk drawer, just in case you want to go that route, Lily whispers.

And there you are… wait, how do you know about the handcuffs?

He brought them out that night.

That doesn’t seem like River at all.

Well, maybe you don’t know him as well as you think, which is why you shouldn’t trust him.

He’s not… the man that broke into the house is he?

How the hell would I know? You think I know more than I do.

“Because I could tell you weren’t her that morning,” he answers my question and I tear my concentration from Lily and direct it on him. “And I could tell you were pretty fucking scared as it was that you couldn’t remember anything, so I didn’t want to add fuel to the fire by telling you I knew about her. Multiple personalities can be tricky, especially if you don’t know about it already.” He searches my eyes, maybe for her. “But I’m guessing you do.”

I grip the edge of the seat, pierce my nails into the wood, fight not to hurt him, fight not to protect myself. “Please get out of my way so I can leave.”

He shakes his head, only getting closer to me, his warm breath caressing my flushed cheeks. “Maddie, I want to help you.” His voice conveys fervidness as he gently puts a hand on my cheek again. “There’s no need to be afraid. These kinds of things can be helped… I want to help you.”

“What are you? Some kind of psychology expert now.” I sit up straight, put my hands to his chest, and force him to move back and give me breathing room. “This isn’t a sociology study, River. I don’t want your help. I can handle it.”

“That’s not what it looks like to me.” He brushes his fingers through my damp hair and tucks a few strands behind my ear. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping very well.”

“I already told you I haven’t. But it’s normal for people to have trouble sleeping.”

“Is it…” He chews on his bottom lip, thinking. “Is it because of her?” he asks and I find myself shrugging. “Or is it because of the police? And how you are handling the thing with Bella?”

“It’s nothing. I just get restless sometimes.” I bite down on my lip until I draw blood to distract myself from the pain of thinking what I might have done to Bella and how River’s sitting here worried about me over something I may have caused. For the last six years I’ve pretty much lived in solitude with only Lily as my company and Ryland, who doesn’t ask me questions unless I offer openings. I don’t like sharing my personal life with anyone and there are reasons for that—because it’s fucking insane. Now though, well Lily’s taken it upon herself to give River an opening to ask questions. I hate her for it. And I don’t really understand why she would do it.

Why did you do it?

Accidental slipup.

“So if you were with me… Lily that night, then maybe I did have an alibi.” I look for the silver lining in this mess.

He shakes his head, pulling his hand away from my face. “What I told you about losing track of you was the truth.” He tugs his fingers through his hair and sits back on his heels, frustrated. “I mean, one minute you were there and the next you were gone. But don’t worry. Like I said, I told the police you were with me, so it doesn’t really matter.”

“Yeah, but I still don’t get why? You could get into a lot of trouble if they catch you.”

“I know that, but I want to help you. I really, really do. And it seems like you might need my help, you’re just afraid to take it for some reason.”

“You keep saying that you want to help me, but it doesn’t make sense. No one ever wants to help.” I say it with no true meaning behind it, yet it feels like I meant it. I can’t help but think about the dreams I keep having, the times I zone off, where I’ve been locked up before for whatever reason. Maybe no one helped me when I was locked away once, but if that’s the case, then why am I free now? Who freed me? Was it Lily? Did she help me escape? But then why would my mother act like she was bad?

“I like you Maddie, even if you don’t believe so.” River’s gaze sweeps across my body, my clothes wet and clinging to my curves. “I’ve liked you from the day I ran into you outside of my AA meeting.”

I’m not sure if I’m buying what he says or not, but I want to pick his mind some more, because he seems to be my only lead to what I did that night.

“So you don’t remember me talking to anyone?” I ask as he puts his hands back on my legs again, seeming really determined to keep me in the chair. “That night, I mean. Anyone that might could give me a legit alibi, or at least help me put the pieces together.”

“Bella. Me. You talked to some of the regulars.”

I shut my eyes , take in a deep inhale and let it out slowly. “I’m not sure it’s going to look good if I was talking to Bella.” I open my eyes and try to decipher his reaction.

He seems far too calm in this particular situation. “You didn’t do anything to Bella.” He considers something with his brows furrowed, fingers massaging my legs. “She talked to a ton of people that night. And so did you,” he gestures at the window, “I watched you guys for quite a while and you talked with each other, costumers, Leon.”

“Why would I talk to Leon?” I ask curiously. “I don’t know him.”

He shrugs, his hands sliding up to the tops of my legs, making my body betray me and shiver with need. “Bella was with you. Maybe she was introducing you to him.”

“Bella was with Leon that night?” It feels vaguely familiar, but maybe I’m searching for an answer to avoid the truth. Because no matter what, I did go to Bella’s apartment. Did black out. Did wake up in a room stained with someone’s blood.

“Yeah, they talked for a little while. I saw it through the window and then they parted ways and she spent most of the night with either you or clients.” He pauses. “From what I saw, no one seemed suspicious. Including you.”

“You were watching me through the window?” I ask, looking over his shoulder at the window that gives me a great view of the room below.

Get out of here. Now.

He shrugs again, but something in his demeanor changes—grows anxious. “You told me I could watch you that night, so when I wasn’t near you, I studied you from up here.”

I don’t trust him, Lily says.

Neither do I… I want to, but I can’t.

We need a plan. To get you out of here and away from him for a while, at least until you figure some stuff out.

Yes... I guess we do… but how?

Handcuffs, she entices.

Even though it makes me feel sick to my stomach, I decide that it’s time to get the out of here and away from River without him being able to follow me and insist he’s helping me. I need to figure some stuff out before I can go around trusting people. And the route I’m going to take is definitely stemming from my bad girl side—from Lily. I think about the knife and how she convinced me to slit her wrist. Deep down, a small part of me wanted to give into her so easily, just like I’m going to do right now.

“Are you watching me now?” I ask River, gliding my hands up the front of his chest and almost smiling when he shudders under my touch.

“What do you mean?” His voice is raspy as desire blazes in his eyes. “Of course I am. You’re right in front of me.”

“Clever.” I slant toward him and he doesn’t move back.

His eyes flick to my lips. “I know.”

“I’m sure you do,” I say in my most seductive voice then move closer to him. “You sure you want to help me?”

“Positive.” He wets his lips with his tongue.

“Okay then.” I press my lips to his and give him a soft kiss.

I’m not a good girl. I don’t care what they say. This is me. This is all I can be. I can’t fight who I am anymore. I’m a bad girl. I do whatever it takes to protect myself. Be a whore. Be whatever you need to be to survive, otherwise you won’t.

River kisses me for a moment, slipping his tongue deep inside my mouth. He tastes like cherries and smells like rain. It’s delicious and intoxicating, but ends too quickly.

He pulls back, his lips leaving mine. “Maddie, just relax.” He holds me back by the shoulders. “We could go to my place and talk for a little while, if you want.”

That’s the last thing I want to do, go somewhere alone with him. So instead of responding, I slant forward again and taste him deliberately.

“Maddie… we should… talk…” He’s reluctant at first, but then gives in, letting his arms bend and allowing my body closer to his. I kiss him, run my fingers through his hair, while his hands travel all over my body. It feels mind-numbingly good, makes me feel alive at the moment, makes it easier to push away the dirt inside me, the voice that shouts at me I’m being the whore the unknown man always told me I was. I wish it were that easy. That I could kiss him and just enjoy it, instead of worrying if I’m going to snap and kill him.

So that’s what I tell myself to get through this. That I’m doing him a favor by what I’m going to do to him. Protecting him from me. Getting to my feet, I guide him with me, making sure to keep our lips sealed as I back us around the desk, bumping into the corner and knocking over a picture on his desk. I bite at his lip then gently push him into the chair. He gazes up at me, eyes glossy, lips parting to say something. But I silence him by tugging his shirt off and discarding it to the side. My movements are reckless, rough, almost violent and it frightens me so much how I feel inside that I’m shaking. I trace my fingers up his lean muscles covered in tattoos, allowing them to slowly wander to the base of his neck, my fingertips quivering when I feel his erratic pulse. I feel him stiffen and I wonder if he’s afraid of me. But as if answering my silent question, he grabs me by the hips and jerks me forward so I land on his lap. Then he crashes his lips against mine. I slide my hands around his shoulders and to his back, scratching at his flesh, feeling something unravel inside me. I’m not Maddie at the moment. Nor Lily. I’m just a confused person who’s trying to survive the madness. Maybe that’s why I take it as far as I do. I could have just stolen the handcuffs before our clothes came off, but I don’t want to. I want to go further. I want to unfold. Shed my skin and just feel something other than fear for one goddamn moment. I want to become the person that I’m always fighting not to be. So I let him rip my clothes off and I do the same to him. Then he touches me, inside and out, his fingers wander over my nipples, my thighs, in me while he devours his lips. It feels so wrong, yet right at the same time.

After I explore him, a condom goes on and before I know it, he’s sinking deep inside me. I try not to think about if Lily went this far with him. It’s so fucked up and I don’t want to think about it—I don’t want to think.

So I don’t.

We rock together in rhythm, driving each other to the edge, fingers delving into each other’s flesh, crying out each other’s names, begging for more. River is as equally rough as me and I start to understand a little, why he might have not cared when Lily hurt him. I think he might like the pain as much as I do. It makes me wonder why. But not for very long because then we’re coming. Together, nails scratching his skin apart, panting, breathless, covered in sweat. It takes me a little while to return to reality and realize what I did. How rough I was. How sickened I am because I liked it, how alarmed and subdued I feel at the moment.

I knew you had it in you. You’re becoming so much like me anymore. Soon you’ll only be me.

She’s right. I do have it in me. The bad. I can admit that now. And it’s terrifying and enthralling. As River’s trying to settle down, I climb off his lap and reach for the drawer, ready to push my bad out some more.

“What are you doing?” he asks, breathless, I pick up a set of handcuffs and the key to them.

His brows knit and his lips part in protest, but before he can do anything, I clip one to a handle on a filing cabinet right by the chair and one to his wrist. At first I think he thinks I want a kinky round two, but when I pick up my skirt and put the keys into my pocket, his amusement turns to alarm.


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