Page 44 of Dmitri

By three in the afternoon, the summer breeze blowing through my open windows doesn’t cool the sweat trickling down my back. We don’t have air-conditioning and I usually keep the house like a dark cave with the curtains drawn, but I need the sunlight, if only to brighten my darkening mood.

The flurry of possibilities whirring in my head about tonight has me tense. What will Dmitri and I do at the Monarch? What dress should I wear? I’m wet at the thought of fucking him in a swanky sex club. Will there be an audience? Do I want there to be?

My pussy clenches.

Why am I like this?

Why can’t I stop putting myself in situations that will only hurt me in the end?

How will D hurt me?

I hate how eager I am to find out.

So, I shut it off. All my fantasies go back into the no-no box, and I shake away the lust wrapping warmth around me and replace it with cold resolve. I’m not going to that club for fun. I’m going to complete a mission and be done.

This is business, not pleasure.

While music blasts in my ears, I scrub my tub until I’ve completely numbed out again. The lyrics turn to white noise, and the smell of cleaning products fades. I don’t notice the ring of soap scum as I scrub, scrub, scrub.

And I don’t notice that I’m not alone.

Not until an earbud is ripped from my ear.

“Boo.”

I scream and swing out, knocking my assailant in the face with my scrub brush.

“Fuck, Dae!” Kaleb stumbles back, holding his eye.

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Kaleb,” I squeak, my heart ramming against my ribs. “What the hell!”

He blinks fast, his right eye bright red and watery, while fury laces his tone. “FuckingChrist.”

“Flush out your eye,” I order, steering him by his shoulders towards the sink. “Here.” I smack the faucet on, gather coolwater in my hand, and pull him by the shirt until he bends down. Then I splash his eye until I think he’ll be okay. “Sit down,” I say, guiding him until the back of his legs hits my toilet. “Here, put this on your eye.”

He takes the cold washcloth from me and slaps it on his face.

“I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, babygirl. I shouldn’t have snuck up on you like that.”

I bite my lip as a swarm of bees and butterflies battle in my belly. “What are you doing here?”

“Wanted to take you out for lunch.”

Yeah, right. I can’t even remember the last time we shared a meal together. “Why?”

“Christ, Dae, can’t I just take my girl out to eat without having another motive?”

“I’m not your girl.”

The look on his face gives the butterflies the upper hand over the bees in me. But the victory doesn’t last. “You’ll always be my girl,” he says.

There was a day when those words would make me melt. Today, they make me want to vomit. “What are you really doing here, Kaleb?”

He tosses the washcloth in my sink and stares at me with one green eye and one slightly swollen red eye. I’m sure it stings, and I wouldn’t put it past him to act extra wounded just to get sympathy out of me. Now I feel duped. I should have let the chemicals eat his eyeball until it blinded him.

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