Page 48 of Moth
“It’s true,” he says, unwilling to let me ignore him. “I noticed it the first night, little bunny, when you hopped right in front of me. You’re sexy…but that wasn’t what I saw.”
I grit my teeth, but something makes me bite out a response regardless. “What did you see, then?”
“You looked like me.” He makes it sound so simple. So…honest, even in the obvious throes of delirium—an observation so astounding it made him seek me out. “Those scared little bunny eyes…”
He falls silent for so long that I’m terrified when I finally turn back to find him slumped sideways, his lips parted, his breathing steady. He’s asleep, thank God.
Though, should I?
I don’t come up with a fitting response by the time I finally collect myself enough to escape into my bathroom and shower. Wrapped in a towel, crouched in the body of my tub, I try to regain my composure. My old instincts. Anything.
Nothing makes sense anymore. Not living in this apartment or moving out here to go to school for a degree I’ll probably never use.
If I were smart, I would have stayed in Wellington. I would have fought to regain my perfect, old life. I would have never let Branden take control of it the way he has.
But no amount of wishing can change this reality. It reasserts itself with a telltale ping that I unfurl my aching limbs to answer, wearing only a towel. I grab my phone and hiss in alarm. Branden has sent at least twenty messages throughout the night.
But, surprisingly, he isn’t the one calling me now.
“Oh, thank God!” Mara exclaims when I answer. “I was so worried. What a fucking shitshow.”
“I’m glad you’re okay,” I whisper, leaning against my living room window, staring out into the darkness beyond.
“Are you?” she asks warily. “I can’t believe that asshole had the nerve to—”
“I’m fine,” I say. “Really.”
“Thank God for that,” she replies, her voice ripe with its usual chirp. “I say we turn this night into a positive. You got some damn good fodder for your essay, and as for me… I think I’m going to sleep with Rafe.”
“Rafe?” I can’t tell exactly how my voice sounds. Alarmed? Amused? “After everything that happened, your first thought is getting laid?”
“Yes.” She sighs dreamily, though I can hear the murmurs of who must be her parents, arguing in the background. “He was so sexy. He basically saved your life. Though… What happened when I left? It looked like you might have gone with him.”
I recognize the wary suspicion in her tone. “He just led me away from the club,” I say. “I think he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t go running to the cops like a goody-goody.”
“Oh.” She sighs, satisfied by the answer. “Well, as long as he didn’t try anything. And if you want to call dibs on him, let me know now.”
She pauses.
I say nothing.
“Then it’s settled. He’s mine. The guy may be a total asshole, but I think I’ll give it a shot. Just for fun. I mean, did youseehis body? I don’t have a dick, but I think I know what they mean about blue balls—”
“I have to go,” I say as a sudden thud comes from the direction of my bedroom.
“Oh…okay. Well, night.”
“Night.” I hang up and race into my room, only to find that he’s lying on his uninjured side, drawing my sheets over him. Once he’s settled, his eyes drift to me, widening. A whistle escapes through his teeth, low and strained. “Either I’m dead, or you’re a sadist, bunny.”
I glance down and feel my cheeks flame as I realize I’m still in my towel. “Neither,” I snap, turning to my hamper. I grab an oversized shirt and carry it into my closet, dressing in the dark with the door cracked.
When I emerge, he’s already out for a second time. It should be impossible for someone so big to look so…normal, lying there. He’s almost too large for my basic full, his feet dangling over the end of it.
A part of me still warns that I should call 911, but I creep into my living room without indulging in it. Curling up onto my couch, I close my eyes.
It should be far harder to fall asleep than it is.
