“He squeezed the life out of her just as she was coming so her orgasm went on for ever… and ever…”
Trent makes a long groan, his thrusts going from rhythmic to spasmodic, then the clasp around my neck grow tighter, the plastic clicks loud as gunshots.
My eyes flick open but it’s too late. There’s a hazy film over my vision. The room darkens, so dark I can’t see.
I can’t breathe but I’m too warm and fuzzy to care. Soft arms pull me into their embrace, rocking me as the last tingles evaporate from my skin and the world retreats too far for me to grasp hold.
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
TRENT
Rosa’s breathingresumes a second after I slit the zip tie with my penknife. The colour didn’t have time to leave her cheeks and I sit on the bed beside her, cradling her against me, terrified I went too far.
The fear is a strident counterpoint to the exultation from a few minutes ago. One glorious experience from start to finish. It’s been years since I felt this peaceful, this alive.
Strike that. I’veneverfelt this sense of wellbeing, like everything in the world shifted a tiny fraction of a degree and now it all lines up perfectly, every join finally slotting into place.
“Hey,” I say as her eyelids flutter. “Stay with me.”
She curls towards me, towards my warmth, and I’m flushed with gratitude that after everything I did, she still responds positively.
Whether she’ll do that once fully conscious is a different story.
I need to move, to ask questions, to clarify. To make calls, get help, get things moving to clean up the mess lying beside the bed.
So many things being added each second to my mental list, but for this tiny moment, I push it aside, rocking my beloved back and forth, back and forth, willing her to recover, to open her eyes, to reconnect.
To let me know where I stand.
“Trent?”
Her voice is a whisper, opaque with confusion. “Time to wake up,” I murmur into her ear, cradling her even closer now she’s aware enough to make a noise if I do something wrong. “Your nap’s over.”
She puts her palm flat against my chest, caressing not pushing, and I get the tight bunching behind my ears I get when there’s too much emotion and nowhere to put it.
“Let’s stand up.” I lift her with me off the bed, supporting her weight until her feet find the floor, holding her waist after so she doesn’t stumble. “There are people I need to call. Do you want a shower before they come?”
“People.” Her head turns to the side, and I move to block her view because she doesn’t need to see what I did to Andy. Doesn’t need to see how unrecognisable he’s become. “What people?”
I cup her head, thumb stroking just in front of her ear. “Do you remember what happened?”
Rosa’s eyes are so large they look like I could fall into them. She clutches onto my wrist, staring straight at me, puzzled. Her voice when it does come is in such a whisper, I have to read the words from her lips, or I wouldn’t understand them. “You didn’t… I thought I was dead.”
“I would never do that.” She tilts her head and I lean down to press a soft kiss on her mouth. “I adore you.”
Her expression is still lost, befuddled, and I wish I could take the time to go through everything.
What we are now, what this means for her.
How once isn’t enough for me and this time I’m not walking away just because everything we want is in opposition. Not now I’ve experienced what we could be.
“Why don’t you sit on the bed?”
I guide her back and press on her shoulders until she obeys me. Her head tips too far forward, nearly unbalancing her, then she shivers and rights herself. I fetch a cloth from the bathroom, running the water on it until it’s warm, then bringing it through to wipe the blood gently from her face, her shoulders, her hands.
“Where are my clothes?”
They’re on the other side of the corpse and I step delicately around the body, careful not to get any more blood on me than there is already. Once I have the garments, I help her dress and walk her through to the next room, installing her on a dining room chair.
