Page 31 of Breaking You Open

I imagine a figure creeping across the ground, slithering through the grass and behind the bushes. I imagine a white face staring into the window, its freakishly light eyes finding me where I sit on the couch, shaking in terror. I imagine the figure chucking a brick into the door and shattering the glass, and a hand turning the lock…

This time, he wouldn’t just fuck me; he’d hurt me for real. Aaron doesn’t take people harming him lightly, and he wouldn’t mind ruffling the feathers of his little bird before he’d shove me back into my cage.

And still, even after everything he’s done to me, even after all the pain he’s caused me, I still…Istill…

My phone buzzes, and I startle badly enough to flick it to the floor. Luckily it doesn’t break, and I stare at the text on the screen.

It’s Lilith.That big oaf fuck you yet?

I huff out a laugh. Trust Lilith to take the things I’m concerned about and flip them around in the strangest ways.

I type out a reply.No.

Three little dots appear as her reply comes in seconds.

Good. Tell him I’ll kill him if he hurts you.

I think he already knows.

Maybe the reason Louis won’t have sex with me is because he’s so scared of Lilith’s wrath. I chuckle at the thought and reply,Even if he fucks me, promise me you won’t kill him. He’s nice.

Nice? Coming from you, that doesn’t mean a lot.

I’m not sure what she means by that, so I don’t reply. Hearing from her makes me somewhat less anxious, though, and I spend the next hour or so playing games on my phone. I take a break to pee, and when I get back, I give the dishes another try. They’ve piled up since yesterday, and it’s a lot to do by hand, but I don’t dare to put on the washer in case I ruin anything. Although…Louisdidtell me to call him if anything came up. And this qualifies, right?

Hm. Even if it’s just an excuse to hear his voice, I’m doing it.

I scroll to his contact and press the button, but the call goes to voicemail. Ten minutes later, I try again. Nothing.

Okay, so maybe he’s busy. Maybe he hasn’t got his phone on hand. It’s not unthinkable to go to him in person and ask my question about the dishwasher, is it? After all, I wouldn’t want to cause a disaster. One time when I was trying to wash clothes at Madame’s, I happened to put in one of Aaron’s white shirts along with a red blanket, and his shirt came out pink. When he found out, he pressed me into a wall, my face in a death grip as he hissed, “What’s this—trying to turn me into a little faggot like you?”

I make my decision in a split second, and as I get dressed, the excitement builds. I’ve never been to a bar before, but I imagine people dress up for it, so I select my best clothes. Maybe someone will even flirt with me, like Eric did. That’s bound to get Louis’s attention whether he wants it to or not, right?

If I can’t make him need me, I can at least make him jealous.

Chapter 10

Louis

Ravi turns to mewhile we’re catching a break. He’s got his bandanna wrapped around his head as usual, his dark beard and mustache shaved to meticulous precision. He’s almost too stylish to be a part of the Black Claws’ otherwise unkept beards and muddy boots.

“Can you please stop growling at newcomers, Louis?” he says, brow quirked.

“I’m not.” I stare, sure, but I’m not growling—at least not loud enough to be heard over the rock music.

“Yeah, you are,” Ravi says with a snort. “One might think you’re ready to jump them just for walking in the door.”

“I don’t like outsiders.”

“You like it enough when pretty-boy twinks find their way in here.”

“Shut up.” I put a few wine glasses in the compartment below the bar top with more force than necessary.

Maurice has reminded me a thousand times that my job is to draw customers in, not scare them away, but I can’t help it; people aren’t my favorite thing in this world to begin with, and outsiders even less so. Regretfully, Moe’s Den is way too central a bar to be frequented only by my Black Claws brothers, and outsiders are crucial for our proceeds, but still. Ravi might not mind when students from Springvale University find their way here, point and gasp at the gritty imagery on the walls, and act tough in front of their friends, thinking it’s so exotic and daring to go to a biker bar.

Me, however? I fucking hate it.

“So,” Ravi says, “what happened with that Sparrow kid?”

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