20
Her body trembled as I held her,and I’d never felt close to a woman before. I had an instant dislike and distrust of women and the way they group like herd animals, whispering, giggling while glancing at their victim under batting eyelashes. Flirtatious looks were to be avoided because there was always a sense that they were reeling me in only to spit me out and call it a joke while laughing hysterically. The boy used by the Warwicks to perform their dirty work was coming to the end of my tether.
“You’re not a huggy person, are you?” she whispered against my cheek. “You’re stiff and tense like you’re not used to being touched intimately.”
“That’s an interesting analysis,” I exclaimed.
“Am I right? The metalhead loner,” she added, “hugs like a thorny twine.”
I loosened my grip on her and rolled over, annoyed that she hated my touch, only for moments later her hand found my shoulder, urging me to roll toward her again.
She exhaled as her breath smelled of strawberries, and I was tempted to kiss her, but I felt she needed to talk. “I liked the way you kissed me in the library, but I hated the way you ruined me in the gardens with Ezrah,” she explained. “I’m so confused about everything right now, and you three have treated me so poorly, but why should you treat me well. We are enemies. My head spins about so much, and right now I hate all of you.”
She fell quiet as I tried to soothe her by stroking her hair, then faltered and took my hand away when I reflected on thehugs like a thorny twinecomment. “Yeah, I’m sorr-”
“What?” she balked. “Are you about to apologize to me?You…Mr. Anti-social, yaps like a dog to frighten people, but instead comes across like a complete and utter nutter is trying to apologize to me.”
“Yeah, you praise me too much,” I joked, and she cracked up laughing, and it was like all my problems peeled away with every sweet giggle.
Her hand found mine and laced her fingers in mine under the blankets, and again I felt close to her and wasn’t comfortable with that. I wasn’t comfortable being close to anyone. I tensed, but she refused to let go of my hand. “I don’t know how to do this sort of stuff,” I confessed, then instantly regretted it.
“What sort of stuff?” she breathed as her other hand began playing with my fingers.
“You know,thissort of stuff…with girls,” I struggled to find the words.
“Intimacy?” she questioned.
“Yeah,” I clarified.
“But you’ve had sex with girls before?” she asked in a croaky voice as sleep was beginning to claim her.
“Yes, but it wasn’t intimate, I mean…it was in and out, quick, no messing around.” Finding the right words to explain my feelings was never a talent of mine, and it came out sounding like I was inexperienced, when I really meant that I did not care for the girls.
“Wow, so you never tried to give the girl an orgasm?” My heart sank when she asked this because I didn’t like talking about stuff like this.
“I cared more about me than her,” I said, tensing up some more because it was moving me further away from fucking Adina, which had been my plan from the moment I met her, if it wasn’t for the Warwicks giving clear instructions that I could look but not touch, unless on their order. Obviously, I disobeyed their order when I kissed Adina twice, and it was the best kiss ever, fuck the Warwicks.
To quickly change the subject because this was leading me down a path of trouble, I said, “You know it wasn’t our idea to make you our prey, and as it turned out, it wasn’t that much fun even for Nicolae.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Nic-o-lae Smugface Warwick. What an asshole,” she hissed heatedly. “How dare he treat me like a piece of meat?” I sensed her growing anger when her fingers began digging into my skin out of frustration, and it wasn't until I flinched from her sharp nails piercing my skin that she realized what she was doing. “Sorry,” she sighed, then a few beats passed before she was back to the original topic. “So, you’re not the type of guy to return a call after you had sex with a girl.”
“Nah,” I was feeling uncomfortable again because she was going to point out inadequacies, and I was fully aware of what those inadequacies were. So I had to change the subject again. “Ifound this book in the library about the legends surrounding this place when my great-great-grandfather was alive.”
“Yeah? What did it say?” Good, she had moved on, so I’ll keep her focused on the strange mystery.
“According to the book, he had a favorite niece whom he’d hide expensive gifts in certain places for her to find.” Even in the dark, I could tell she was interested by her sharp intake of breath. “So, there was this one story, although I don’t know if it’s true, about him hiding an expensive diamond brooch worth millions. She couldn’t find it, so he accused the gardener of stealing it and called the police on him. The police couldn’t find the brooch anywhere, and it’s still unfound, apparently.”
“What happened to the gardener?” Her question surprised me because I thought the first thing she was going to ask was, where was it hidden? But maybe she cared more for the poor working-class man who was accused of stealing than the wealthy snob playing stupid games.
“He was sacked, and I don’t know what happened to him,” I told her.
“Everything I’ve heard about your great-great-grandfather, Ashthorn, is quite…”
“Weird,” I answered for her.
“Creepy. Like he had far too much time and money on his hands and was perhaps a little like you, anti-social, and was not well liked,” she said as her fingers began massaging my skin.
“Yep, that’s how he came across to me, too. A recluse, tight ass,” I said.
