What if it wasn’t real?
I hissed when I climbed into the tub filled with soothing watermelon bath salts, and hydrating oils. Lucy joined me on the floor, watching me as I allowed the water to do its thing. God, it felt good. My legs were as sore as they had been when I first started running. I needed to stretch more.
Maybe yoga would help with that.
I dipped under the water and quickly washed my hair. I’d do a more thorough wash later, but right now, I was inspired.
When I was able to run my fingers through my hair, I came up, gasping for breath, and settled back against my tub, closing my eyes, allowing my muscles to relax.
20 minutes was all I could stand before I got out, dried off, bandaged my wounds, pulled on Everett’s sweats and my tank top, and headed to the kitchen.
I made myself some coffee and finally sat down at my laptop, my fingers flying over the keys.
He found her, he wanted her, he claimed her.
Maybe that would be my tagline.
It was a good one.
My door opened however long later.
Long enough for my untouched coffee to grow cold and 3,000 words to be typed up and ready to send.
I glanced over for half a second, noting that it was Evelyn, before turning back to the laptop. “Hey,” I mumbled, 90% of my mind still on the story, still in the zone.
I could go for hours, I was sure. Today was a good day. A good writing day. Katie was going to be happy; I was sure of it.
“You look like you were inspired,” Evelyn said to my right.
I nodded. “A bit.” I learned a long time ago that when I got into these sprees, when someone spoke to me in the middle of one, I came across as rude or disrespectful, but that’s not how I meant it. I was writing. I was creating something. Building, nurturing. It wasn’t as simple as what people thought. It was real to me. This was all real to me. I was living this life on the pages and being wrenched from it in the middle of an idea was the worst thing that could—
A black box appeared in my peripheral vision.
I saw it, kept typing, and then registered it, my fingers slowing at the sight of it.
My brows furrowed, eyes lifting to find Everett standing on the other side of the table, watching me through that mask like I was his next meal.
My skin immediately heated up. “What is that?” I asked, pushing my laptop to the side. I had to remain calm and collected until I could get a gauge on him. On how he felt.
“Something the observant little writer didn’t see when she woke up, apparently,” he stated, straightening. “And there’s this too,” he said, sliding another box across the table, this one larger and metal.
I looked between the two, my heart dropping as realization dawned. My face hardened and I fell back into my chair, Evelyn walking around me to my other side. My eyes lifted to his. So, he regretted it then. All of it.
What he said, the thing he carved into my skin, all of it.
My eyes lifted to his, the anger simmering under my skin. Steven usually bought me flowers when he apologized. A bracelet once. Chocolates. I hated chocolate. But while one of these boxes was clearly too large for a bracelet, the other was the perfect size for one.
I honestly didn’t expect him to be the gift-giving type.
“Holy shit,” Evelyn laughed as we continued to glare at each other. “Girl, this is hot. He strapped her to a stump and fucked her with a gun?”
My eyes widened, my cheeks burning red. I slammed the laptop shut, pulling it towards me. Goddammit.
“Kinky,” she purred, walking behind me, her fingers drifting across my shoulders. “I like kinky.” She walked back to my other side and gently took my chin, turning my head to the side to inspect my bandage job. “I also find scars…” she leaned down, holding my head up, only pausing when our lips were inches apart, “irresistible.”
I swallowed, already worked up from the scene in the book I was reliving. But she wasn’t the pair of lips I wanted.
Before I could pull away Evelyn disappeared, Everett replacing her, towering over me like some sort of god.
