Page 8 of Moonflower

I’ve made a horrible mess of things. Not only have I pushed them away, I can’t go back. How am I supposed to go back home? Every time I see a picture of one of them, all I can think about are all the things I want to do to them. All the things I want them to do to me.

And trust me, there are a lot of things.

I want Wilder to chase me. I want to run away from him, and then have him catch me. And then I want him to fuck me while I pretend I don’t want it. Is that weird of me? I don’t know. But I think about it all the time.

I read that last paragraph again. Holy fuck.

I think about Ezra, too. When I came home for Christmas last year, I was hanging out at Ezra and Wilder’s apartment, and I saw ropes in Ezra’s room. And ever since, I’ve wanted him to tie me up. I want him to restrain me and then fuck my mouth until I’m choking and gagging and drooling everywhere.

There’s nothing I’d like more than to surrender myself to them. For them to take away my ability to breathe, my ability to see. For them to make me feel pain in the most pleasurable ways. I want them to scare me, too. I want to be terrified of what they might do to me.

God, there’s so much. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. They’re all just fantasies, ones I’ll never get to live out.

I’m here, and they’re back home. And it needs to stay that way.

Even if it hurts like hell.

XOXO, Moonflower

P.S. Wow, I can’t believe I typed all of that out. Might delete it later.

I shut off my laptop and lean back in my chair, staring at the ceiling. She’s been avoiding us because she’s in love with us. It’s cute, really—that she thinks she’ll get away with this.

A plan forms in my mind. I’ll need to get some shit. And I won’t be able to tell Ezra until the last minute. He’ll ask too many questions and chicken out.

Maybe it’s rash, but I’m beyond caring. Cora needs us—more than she knows. And I’ll destroy anything that stands between her and us.

You can’t hide from us, Moonflower.

Chapter three

Ezra

On Halloween

Wilder knocks on my bedroom door, waking me from a night of shit sleep. Well, more like a morning and afternoon of shit sleep.

“What?” I grunt.

Wilder opens the door, stepping inside. I blink a few times, letting my vision clear up. He’s standing in the middle of my room, fully dressed and ready for the day, with his arms crossed over his chest.

“We’re going to Westview. Today.”

“What? Dude, that’s like . . . a five hour drive.”

“Do I look like I give a shit?! I’ll drive. Just get out of bed and let’s get moving.”

“What . . .” I push myself into a sitting position as my chest tightens with panic. “Is something wrong with Cora?”

“What? No. Well, I mean, sort of. But nothing terribly urgent.”

I wait for him to go on, but he doesn’t. “Wild!”

“Just get dressed. It’s already two o’clock. I want to be there by eight, and I’m not sure what traffic will look like.”

“I need you to explain,” I grouse, throwing back my covers. I stumble out of bed, throwing on the shirt Wilder hands me and then searching for some pants.

“Can’t.”

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