It didn’t work. It never worked. But the sound of the shower spray pelting against the glass did help to drown out the whispers until the meds did what they were supposed to do and drowned out the memories too.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HIM
“Turn it off…”
I paused what I was doing, the damp washcloth covered in my cum hovering above Juliet’s stomach, before I decided to ignore it and continued wiping at her skin. Scooping up the mess I’d made while enjoying the streaks of creamy white mixing with the blood red until the two colors were swirling together like a morbid version of a candy cane.
I smelled like her soap now and she smelled like me. Fucked up, sure. But no one could claim I wasn’t fucking festive. She almost looked as good as the Christmas decorations I’d spread out around her living room.I grinned, dropping my mouth into a frown when it started up again.
“Turn it off…”
I squeezed my eyes shut, tighter than before, clamping my jaw—teeth against teeth—until all I could hear was the blood rushing in my ears, the humming in my temples instead.
“Turn it off…”The voice was louder this time, softer, sweeter too. As sweet as the honey my ma used to mix into the cold meds before she forced me to choke 'em down so she could…
I shook my head, tossing the washcloth onto the floor, and stuffed a finger into each ear. “Shut up, shut up, shut up,” I grunted over and over until I was screaming it. “Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”
“Okay,”she replied, which had me peering up from between Juliet’s legs. Then flying off the bed, my dick wet and flopping against my thigh as I backed myself against the closest wall.
She never did that. She never agreed. Never stopped. Never said okay.
“I’m sorry…”And she sure as fuck never apologized.“But can you please turn it off…”
I glanced over to where some Hallmark movie had started playing on the screen, my glare bouncing to the remote on the nightstand and back. Then I carefully closed the distance, powered down the tv, and waited.
Silence, followed by a sigh and a mumbled, “Thank you.”
Yeah, fuck that.
I snatched my shit off the ground, stuffed my feet into my damp shoes, and tucked the washcloth into my pocket—I was in a hurry but I wasn’t fucking stupid—before making a beeline for the door. I’d just wrapped a hand around the knob when…
“Don’t leave me. Please,”she whispered, and my feet froze to the spot. My clothes tumbling out of my arms as I turned on a squeaky heel and found Juliet awake. Blueeyes staring at me. Seeing me for the first time even if it wasn’t the first time.
“What did you say?” I asked her.
“I said… please don’t leave…” she answered me. I didn’t know if it was real. Ifshewas real or if I’d just graduated to the part where I was seeing shit too now.
“Okay,” I told her anyway, waiting until she’d rolled over onto her side before climbing into bed beside her.
She didn’t say anything else after that.
CHAPTER NINE
HIM
“Stop fucking squirming,” I grunted, my eyes still squeezed shut as I tugged on the covers and flipped over onto my other side, dragging more than half the blanket with me. The soft, fluffy blanket.
“Sorry,” a voice mumbled back, and I shot upright on the bed. I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t aloneandthat my mask was still on the nightstand where I’d left it.
I reached out an arm, snatched it up, and shoved it over my head. I looked fucking ridiculous: bare-assed, covered in tattoos, with nothing on but a white piece of hollowed-out plastic strapped to my face. But here we were. Glued at the hip, in someTwilight Zoneepisode of theOdd Couplewhere my face would give me away but my cock wouldn’t.
It shouldn’t have mattered, considering she’d seen it last night. (Both my face and my cock.) Either way, I had to kill her. I was going to kill her. Just felt like a waste after all that effort I’d put in to saving her. Like flipping apuzzle off the kitchen table the moment you were done putting it together.
I stretched out my sore limbs until each of my shoulders made that popping sound, and then stood from the bed with a groan. I was already fucked. I’d been due back on the unit hours ago. Might as well be fucked and fed.
“What d’ya want for breakfast?” I called out from the door, one hand braced on the frame. I didn’t bother turning around.My ass was up for grabs too, I guess.
