Using my silence as an agreement, she scoots closer, bracing her other hand to the tub and staring at me with her big eyes. “You think so too?”
“I see it… Yeah.”
“Do you know if he has a daughter? Could we find out?”
She looks too fucking cute right now for any alarms to sound off in my head.
Drying my hand off on my shirt, I hastily pull my phone from my cargos, snapping a fuzzy picture of her looking up at me, the wet length of her hair bending and curling to her arms. “I fucking hope he didn’t reproduce, but, uh…” Checking the photo out, I give it a quick grin and stretch over to set my phone on the sink. “We can see what we can dig up on him.”
“We?” she smiles.
This is what makes it so hard hiding so much shit from her. She wants to be included. She wants to know so many things. But I don’t think I have her in position that makes it safe for her to know—yet. I just need somemore time doing normal shit with her. Like this. What we’re doing right now. Just talking and hanging out, making plans.
That’s normal. She needs normal before…
Woah, what the fuck is she looking at?
My skin shrinks, catching her eyes drift to the side and shallowly stare at something behind me. “Bunny? … Hey, you okay?”
I check over my shoulder, making sure Freddy Krueger isn’t making an early appearance tonight, and all I see is the door faintly illuminated by the candle.
“Uh… no, I don’t like that.” Lunging to my feet, I grab her towel from the hook on the wall and toss it over my shoulder, wasting no time shoving my hands into the water to pull her out by underneath her arms.
I basically throw her little ass into me, holding her with one arm and jerking the towel over her, using a violent hustle to blow the flame out and leave the bathroom.
“I’ve never seen him in here before.”
Centipedes race up my back, my eyes pinning wide. “He? He who?” Avoiding the drunk chatter coming from the rest of the house, I gun it into my room and shut the door.
“I think it’s Damien.”
Getting slam dunked in my own vat of formaldehyde, all muscles seize to a freeze near my bed, hearing the name she shouldn’t remember.
The name I never thought I’d hear again.
Curiously taking each inch closer, the singular seat that’s occupied in the front row drains my focus over to the only face giving her an audience.
He’s not paying a lick of attention. His poor little head is rested in his palm, and his eyes are closed, like he’s taking himself a goddamn nap.
The ungrateful fuck has my shoes scuffing to a stop a few feet from the silk bunny swirling to her own hum, my vision coming to a slit. Talking some shit in my head about him being more narcoleptic than my vegetative uncle, the song of a sad siren is fading to silence.
“Psst!”
Turning to look where the noise came from, Roslyn Rabbit has her attention on me, her bare feet planted to the stage as she simultaneously shushes me with a finger and wiggles out of the black silk.
I do a double take at the guy passed out, trying to pacify the dark spots beginning to absorb my sight.
Kinda fuckin’ seems like I have someone that’s gonna be in my way. Someone she lulled to sleep and is rushing away from.
“Damien, stop.” Bunny moves between us, skating a hand up his heaving chest.
His soulless, blind fucking eyes are narrowed in on me, his upper lip snarling. “We get a new guy that shows up, follows you around, and now has a pathetic pet name for you?” Cutting his violent eyes down to her, they vibrate around, trying to search through the white cast for her silhouette. “You’re probably being a fucking whore!”
“Stop,” she cries.
“Stop.” My chest swells into cement, the room spinning. “Stop.”
“Stop! Please stop!”
