I grimace. It’s way too early for the utter cringiness that is Josh.
“How’d you get my phone number anyway?” I mumble.
“I told you. Had a look at his files. Anyway, I’m downstairs, sohurry up!”
“Hurry up?”
“Yeah. I’m waiting for you. Let’s go find your parents’ killer and make him pay, Nancy Drew!”
I groan loudly. A lot has happened since yesterday. For one, my parents’ death has finally begun to sink in, and the last thing I want to do is play detective.
For another, I have a man on my mind right now, and it’s definitely not Josh.
All the contradictory emotions rush at my throat as I think of the man whoison my mind, but one thing’s clear. There’s no way I’m telling Josh my theory about the murderer’s identity. I can barely admit it to myself.
Instead, I scowl, “I wouldn’t know where to start.”
“Well, ask yourself, WWND?”
“Huh?”
“What would Nancy do?” asks Josh. “Where would she start?”
“Devil Tower.”
The words are out before my brain even has time to form them, but the minute I’ve spoken them, I know they’re true.
I remember Quill’s words.Stay the fuck away from Devil Tower.
That means I definitelyshouldn’tstay away from Devil Tower, if I want answers. I’m going to be a pain in his ass, like I have been according to him since the moment I met him. I guess some things never change.
Anyway, what’s the worst that can happen? If he was going to kill me, that probably would have happened already.
I hang up on Josh after promising to be downstairs in twenty minutes and head into the shower, lost in thought. Whatwouldhappen if Quill saw me going to Devil Tower? Would he come over to give me another punishment fuck? That’s not the reason I want to go over there, but…
My hand inches once more to my folds, and, under the hot water raining down from the shower head, I sink three fingers into my pussy, closing my eyes as I let my mind drift back to last night.
He made me feel like shit, butfuckwas it hot. Maybe I’d have been able to resist him better if not for the three-years-long dry spell that followed his dumping me.
Not that I didn’t do my best to move on with my life. I joined Tinder and went on tons of dates. Some of them seemed promising, but somehow, no one ever called me back.
Maybe I really am as annoying as Quill says.
Quill. I drive my fingers in and out of my pussy, while my other hand finds my already-stiff clit and rubs it. Soon, I’m tingling all over from an orgasm that couldn’t possibly hope to match the one he gave me last night while making me feel worthless.
I turn off the water and grab a towel, my thoughts now focused on what I told Josh.
Devil Tower.
The prospect of annoying the hell out of Quill gives me the energy to get dressed. But the thrill is tempered by anger, bitter anger, and violent self-hatred as I realize what I’m doing.
Aching for a monster to fuck me.
I close my eyes, leaning against the sink, my heart thundering so hard in my chest it almost drowns out the clenching of my stomach muscles as I hunger for him.
But maybe he’s not the killer. I latch onto that thought with a desperate sort of hope. Maybe the murderer is still out there. What proof do I have, anyway?
None really. I just assumed it was the murderer who paid for my 10,000 dollar hotel suite. Now I know Quill paid, though I have no idea how he managed to get that kind of money.
