Page 20 of The Monster of Hotel No. 7
And I would lie there, just like I was with Cosmo, and I would let you touch me in any way you wanted. I would get you to speak to me, tell me about your life at 44 Ritual Drive, and maybe you would let me touch you, too.
As Cosmo tipped up his mask and dipped his head between my thighs, my knees bent and manicured toes spread along the white comforter, I sensed something in the shadows to my left, where an entranceway led to a darkened living room.
My heart leapt to my throat, and I thought maybe I was just so incredibly drunk I was seeing things. Cosmo’s tongue pushed into me, and my breath hitched, but I was afraid to let a moan slip from my mouth.
You were there.
A figure in a hoodie, a gleam of dark eyes.
I know it was you.
You watched me as Cosmo spread me wide with his fingers splayed into my thighs, his tongue circling my clit. You saw him bite his way up my stomach, then push inside of me without getting undressed—he always likes it best that way; maybe you already know?
He fucked me and in the dark, I could watch you, and when he pulled out to finish on my thigh, I imagined it was your hot cum and I thought maybe I could command you to lick it off me. Don’t ask why the dirty image came into my head as I held onto the darkness I could see of your eyes; but it was hot, at the time.
Still is, if I’m being honest. I do not know a man who would do such a thing, but I guess I’m not extremely experienced with boys.
Anyway.
You were there that night. I know it was you. Who else?
But I have not been able to figure out if you were in that room before we arrived, or if you crept inside after following us to the thirteenth floor.
When I disentangled myself from Cosmo, I walked that way on the pretense of using the bathroom.
But you were gone.
As I write this, it’s the Night of Lies again, held every September as you know, four years after that one, and I wish you were here once more, even if you stayed in the shadows again.
You dance inside my head in the most macabre way.
I hope you read these. I hope you don’t.
I hope I see you again.
I hope I never do.
I don’t know what I want or who I’m supposed to be, but I think of you often.
Hate me if you must,
K. Ven
“I’m coming with you.” Cosmo’s voice is directly behind me in the lounge of Septem.
I clench my flashlight tighter in my fingers; Mads passed them out after my parents and the others arrived. Mom was home for this meeting, but she made her way here after the news spread.
I don’t know what everyone chose to believe about Sullen two years ago; which rumor they picked to hold onto. I have no idea if the parents of Writhe truly discovered where he went; if Stein Rule contacted Mads to let him know. Allegedly, the former leader of Writhe left the country when he stepped down back in April. But in Writhe, you never know what’s fact and what’s only a diversion of fiction.
“Cosmo, I’m not certain you should be here.” It’s my mother who speaks those words.
I stiffen, my back to everyone. I was ready to go up to the thirteenth floor after the chaos that followed Mads’s orders to search for Sullen. I am scared when they find him, they won’t be nice to him. What, with poisoning Cosmo and I’m sure me, too. My parents always warned me away from Sullen and I knew they must really be terrified of him if they didn’t want to nudge me in the direction of marrying the prince of Writhe. But he’s no longer that and I’m not sure Mom and Dad would consider him a good prospect at all any longer. I’m not sure anyone in this hotel will want to keep him alive after they find him. He has no protection anymore with his father retired from Writhe.
“He is not my dad.”
A shiver coasts down my spine remembering the words. I don’t know what he did with me, where he put me, or what was in the syringe he injected into my belly, but it was real. Hours passed, according to our parents, while they met in the ballroom. It’s nearly midnight now, Friday tumbling into Saturday, and I feel more alive tonight than I have any other weekend in years, even with the residual drugs in my system.
“Actis has done work for me.” Mads Bentzen’s voice, cold and clipped like his son’s, drags me out of my excitement.
