Ire paralyzes me, my barbed eyes locking on hers and the thump of my heart coming up my throat. “The fuck you mean she wasinhis tent?”
“Exactly what I said,” she bites out, her forehead tightening. She leans her weight onto one leg, looking away and throwing her hands up—like she’s embarrassed. “I don’t think she’d even try to go back. I made it seem likehe’ssome psycho killer. God, Razor! I’m tired of this! Bunny doesn’t deserve it, and you know that!” Throwing her hands around with her attitude, she finishes with a harsh finger my way.
“Where is she right now?” I ask sedately.
Tent. Tent. You told her about the tent. You said it was on the south end. You basically lit it up with a flashing arrow. She fucking knows. She went in there. She’s back there. She went back. She’s alone with him.
I don’t hear Duse. My own voice is oozing from my dripping mind, the numbness I’m becoming infected with diluting my consciousness of punching ass out of the room and through the front door.
You just had to say something. Bunny’s smart. Too smart. She picks up on the little shit now, you fucking idiot.
A growl separates my voice, enhancing the blur surrounding me. The fog tilts, pulsing in and out to the sickening beat crawling out of my chest,having to rely on second nature to carry me through the trail and out into the warped chatter echoing around the park.
Is it too late to tie her down? I could keep her in the room. I’d bring her food, take her to the bathroom, play board games with her, maybe steal the TV from the living room to keep her entertained with movies.
No. That’s not right. I couldn’t do that. No. No. Fuck.
Should I?
“Check the tent.”
“Head.”
“She has pretty eyes.”
Oh, fuck, I can’t fucking breathe and they’re coming back. My skin is melting off my face and ears are two goddamn seconds away from blasting off my head. Almost striding past Bunny’s tent, the gravitational pull to check inside first before running all the way to the other end drifts me into a pivot, crushing pavement toward her red velvet.
I get close, then heavy footsteps are stomping up to my side, shifting my attention over to where I shouldn’t even have to fucking give it right now.
Fucking Christ, I have shit to do, and here this guy is panting his hot ass breath into my face and pinching sweat from his nose.
“Hey, Razor, right?” he asks breathlessly.
My upper lip curls, getting my feet in a slow motion to where I need to be heading. “What’s up?”
He huffs, speckling the air with his DNA and wiping at his soggy hair. “You know when Carl’s getting back? We need our checks, man.”
“Nah,” I shake my head, splitting my focus to her tent. “I’ll figure it out and let you know.”
I walk off, keeping the dripping dick at my back.
“I’ll just get his number from his office!” he hollers, as if I’m not two fucking feet from him.
“The feast will eat.”
Panic punches me into a one-eighty, taking steps backward with my seriousness piercing him across the way. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? Fuck off! I’ll call him, dude!”
Obviously not doing that. The old fuck’s stinkin’ up a storm in a fish tank. Which reminds me I need to find time to do something about that. Can’t really remain poetic with nosy people roaming around.
I just barely catch the dude’s dumbfounded expression. I’m shifting around and thrashing her curtains out of my way, ducking and rushing inside, immediately spotting the only visual that can drown the voices and sink my rigid weight through my heels.
She’s humming. It’s quiet, but I haven’t heard her enchant my mind with an eerie song since…
Leaving the sun outside, the dark, cylindrical walls carry the orchestra vibrating her throat. I step closer to her stage, mesmerized with the tight binds of black silk suspending her relaxed body several feet in the air.
She’s elegant, soft, moving fluidly with calculation that makes it look easy.
Still humming and in her zone, she spins my way, casting a toned arm out, her hair swirling like water—anesthetizing my lungs and siphoning all oxygen.
