Page 17 of Twist Me

Pausing again, I took a few deep breaths and tried to cross the street. Every time I managed to put my feet in front of me, I felt like they were glued to the sidewalk’s edge, but I needed to move my pansy ass. Trying again to center myself, I put my foot on the asphalt.

“Making me work for it, huh, Little Lamb. Clever girl.”

Even the words coming out of my mouth didn’t sound like me. I sounded like the fruits back in the cells.

Smashing myself in the side of the head to keep my thoughts straight, I kept moving my feet forward, seeming to get somewhere at least, but then a huge, blaring horn made me freeze like a fucking deer.

I turned around to see a blinding light heading straight for my frozen ass. The horn wailed like a scream, or maybe that was me.

Just when I thought I was going to be permanently pancaked onto this scary ass road, a huge body slammed into me, throwing me away from the line of trucks roaring past.

Blinking my eyes, I glanced up. My shining knight was a badass-looking fucker with dark-ass hair. Reaching his hand out for me to grab it, I spotted a familiar tattoo on his skin. I didn’t speak Russian for shit, but I knew for damn sure who the Moya Kotva mafia was. That little blood symbol on his hand was a dead giveaway.

“My dude, we all have to have our kryptonite. Looks like crossing the street is yours.”

The way he pronounced his words let me know he was definitely Russian. It was not a thick accent, but it was enough to know he wasn’t from around here.

“My kryptonite is over there,” he continued, helping my dumbass off the sidewalk and pointing to a beautiful blonde spinning around in a killer outfit.

The two looked at each other in a sickly, sweet way. It reminded me of puppy love. It was hard to believe a man who looked that put together would settle for a tiny blonde like her, but there was something in the way she moved. She spun around and winked at us both, but the look on her face—I knew it well. It promised death if you misstepped in front of her. So, there was more to her than met the eye.

“Be more careful,” she tsked and danced over to us. “You never know what you’ll find in the dark, big boy.”

I snorted as they laughed at the obvious inside joke between them. You would never see me so fucking giggly with a woman, that was for damn sure.

“Come on, my Little Shadow. We won’t find a…uhm…puppy down this alley. Let’s search elsewhere.”

Something serious clicked in their stance like an agreement had been made between the two of them. She nodded at me and said, “Take care of your idiot ass.”

They left on the sidewalk, running off hand in hand.

Weirdos…

Now that I was actually past the street, I waited by the apartment building entrance. An old man smiled at me and opened the main door.

Fucking yeah.

Getting into the building was easier than expected, but now, it was quiet. Too quiet. My head was still rattling from all the street noise. How people handled all of those blaring car horns, shrieking alley cats, and buzzing lamps every day…fucking hell, it had to be overwhelming.

I glanced around until I found the mailboxes. I slid my finger down the gold metal row of labeled mail slots until I found ‘Lavita.’

So, my Little Lamb lived toward the fucking top of the building. Of course she did, I thought as I glared at the out-of-order sign on the elevator. Grumbling, I began my hike up the staircase to the fifteenth floor.

I wasn’t the least bit inconspicuous, breathing like a dying ox and sitting like a dumbfuck in the corner of the hallway when I finally reached the tippy top. There weren’t security cameras pointing at her room, but I couldn’t exactly stroll inside the front door saying, ‘Honey, I'm home!’

I glared at the hallway wall. Now, how to get in without being seen….

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bird hopping around on one of those metal lifts that people use to clean windows. Getting up, I peered out of the glass. As luck would have it, the lift extended far enough to reach my Little Lamb’s window.

She wasn’t escaping me this time.

Getting my ass to fit through that small window was my biggest struggle, but then I peered down at the street below.

“I’m gonna fucking die. Yes, I’m gonna die because I can’t fly,” I sang to myself, walking on the rickety fucking metal. This thing wasn’t built for giants.

There was a window at the back, and through its cracked opening, I could hear a thick, accented conversation in Spanish. A man was speaking, and sure enough, Ezello’s husky tone was responding. Slipping in through her window, I huddled by the bed in the corner.

This room was my Little Lamb’s pasture, where I could envision her on that giant bed, sleeping and playing DJ on her clit all night long.

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