Page 79 of Hot Blooded
He nods, shoulders shaking with a laugh. “You never know when you’re going to be cuffed. Last time, a woman actually tried to cuff me to her bed. It was hot as fuck. Don’t get me wrong. But after a few hours, I needed to pee.”
“And escape,” I offer.
He shrugs. “That too, I guess.”
As Alastair throws open the door, we both fall silent for a beat.
“Fucking hell, brother. You made it sound like you have afewthings. We’re not going to find her body embalmed somewhere in here, are we?”
“Fuck off,” I growl, mood suddenly shifting. This is going to be a lot harder than I thought.
Alastair ignores my sour attitude and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s start sorting through all this. Figure out what really matters to you to keep.”
“That’s what Tressa advised too,” I sigh.
“Smart girl. Much smarter than you. Not quite as smart as me,” he jokes.
I shoot him another glare, but I know deep down I need him right now to lighten this daunting task. I’ve built it up to be so big over the years, it’s been slowly crushing me.
“Everything can go,” I say suddenly. “Except her diaries. I want to keep those.”
“You and fucking books,” Alastair teases.
“Should we donate all this stuff? These are antiques now. We could give them to a charity,” I suggest.
Alastair shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I think we should burn the lot of it. Release her. Watch her treasures part this earth. Turn back to dust and ash. Fertilize the soil with the wood, the cotton, the leather…put the ashes in the rose bushes. Let the love you learned to have for her fertilize what you have with Tressa.”
“When did you become so poetic?” I growl, more to hide the swell in my throat at the lovely idea than anything.
“Always have been, brother. You’ve been too gloomy to notice. I’m over here living my life to the fullest. Enjoying thebirds chirping, the sun shining…” he trails off as we both set off to search for the diaries amid the piles.
“I’m going to try from now on. Have to try something.”
“Or you could try the obvious. Win back Tressa. Be in love with that perfect woman. Give her everything she asks for. Don’t decide what she wants for her…”
I give him a strange look.
“Hit the nail on the head, did I?”
“Maybe,” I croak. “Fuck. Here they are…” I say as I pull out two dusty diaries. How the third ended up in the library and in Tressa’s hands… I couldn’t say. But I’m starting to think I’m glad it did.
Alastair reaches for the journals, but I twist out of his reach as I flip open to the last page.
June 3, 1903
Dear Diary,
I’m scared, but I don’t care. I’ve been begging him to do it again. He’s been too afraid since the last time, when he took too much and I slept for days. But I don’t care anymore. He refuses to drink from anyone else, and his strength is failing. He can barely stand anymore. He’s been lying prone for days.
The dean of the school called, and I told them he has the flu. That should buy us some time.
I tried to find a street woman willing, but none would volunteer.
He’s becoming disoriented though. Soon, he won’t know who’s arm it is. I’m going to wait until he’s half asleep, then offer my wrist. He needs this. I need him to live. So I’ll do it. It’s not even about my pleasure anymore.
Tonight is the night. Wish me luck.
Until tomorrow,
