Page 6 of A Torment of Sin

“Outside? I want to see the gardens.”

“Like that?” he says, tuning to look over my bare legs and feet. I stumble to a halt at his sudden proximity, reeling slightly at him up so close.

“Pretty,” muses out of me, as he sways in my vision.

“Me? I know. What have you taken?”

I shrug and move around him, spinning again as I keep moving through halls and open spaces. Who knows what I’ve taken. Does it matter? Over and over again I spin, laughing as I go. Lovely. No memories or thoughts, just this place and people who don’t care for outside of here. That thought makes me remember my quest. I want outside. Outside here, anyway. Not outside away from here. Just here and outside of here.

“I want to feel the cold on me, Malachi. Sensations.” And I’m hot. Scorched. “Cooling.”

He chuckles and nods, as if those words mean something to him. Maybe they do. What would I know about men like Malachi Jones? He’s odd, but somehow nice. Honest. I’m sure everything he says is honest, as if he has no care for anything hurting anyone by the process of his words. And then he grabs my hand.

The feel of him on me breaks my calm, my body suddenly tense and wound tight.

“You’re in safe hands.”

Am I? I look up at him, letting myself fall into that feeling. Yes. Safe. I was safe in his arms dancing. And I was safe in his hands when he strapped me up. Calmed or laughing. My shoulders roll at the memory of that, quiet descending again, and I squeeze his fingers. Malachi’s safe. He is. He’s everything to me in here now Gray isn’t with me.

I’m towed somewhere, long strides pulling me around corners and through more rooms, until a heavy wooden door looms in front of him. It creaks behind me as he starts climbing stone stairs and my own feet follow again. Up and up. More steps. Never-ending. I bump on the old brickwork, as my mind wonders where the luxury has gone. We’re bare bones. Nothing but brick and dust, nails and rusty metal work.

I laugh at that and keep chasing him up the steps, listening to his own chuckles.

“Nearly there,” he murmurs, his hand still pulling me.

Nearly there.

The gust of frigid air that suddenly hits me freezes me to the bone. My body charges into it, eyes directed at Malachi’s broad back blocking my view, and then light hits my eyes. He tugs again, pulling me out into the open air. Vast.

I tuck in tight behind him, my other hand going to his upper arm to steady myself as I gaze around in awe. We’re on top. At the top. Turrets and brickwork seems endless around us, all of them staged against the backdrop of blue skies and mountains.

“Beautiful,” falls out of me. It is. All of it.

He walks forward, letting me go, and I linger in place, mesmerised. Blues and whites. So much of it. The precipice. Here it is. I want to spin on it, dance. One step, two, and I suddenly realise there’s snow under our feet. Deep. I giggle and start spinning slowly, arms out to keep me upright as I move in random directions. So cold. Fresh and new. Like me. It just needs to be night-time and I can be dark, too. Dark and dirty, deadly maybe.

Sinister?

I stop and search for Malachi in this barren world, trying to stop my mind spinning as my feet plant solidly. It carries on, though. Spiralling and turning. Colours amplifying and whirling around me. I can’t see the floor? Where is it?

“You’re quite mad,” his voice says from somewhere. “Maybe the fear of losing you will help him.”

What? And mad? Maybe. Don’t care.

As long as I’m not who I was, I don’t care.

“Spin some more for me,” he says. “Spin like this is doing.”

Like what? But yes. Spin.

Chapter 4

Gray

Everything seems fractured inside me, splitting open regarding her.

My head tips back and I look at the ceiling, eyes trying to find sense in the intricate patterns above. It would be so easy to fall. Too easy. Soft lips. Soft skin. I’ve never contemplated it before her. Never wanted to, but here I am – contemplating. Malachi’s idea isn’t worthy of thought. It’s not even something I want really. Maybe it would be a barrier, a way of me not physically touching her, but it’s pointless. I’ve touched her now, already felt the heat of her on my dick and the weight of her in my arms.

Five minutes was all I could bare in that room while he touched her. Five minutes of watching her and yearning for her, and wanting something so much I ached for it. The result was an attempt at a claiming of sorts. And then she damn well kissed me and sank more pills, tempting me further.

---