Page 73 of Crybaby

I can read her vacant expression, and I know that what this fucker did to her was unimaginable, so I run my thumb along her lips, catching the raindrops clinging to her pink mouth.

“I know where he is.”

Her eyes widen, but she bravely pulls back her shoulders. It’s time.

“Show me.”

We walk down a cold, wet alleyway toward the club.

A small narrow door with a sign saysTRESPASSon it. Trespass being the name of the underground club that Blake frequents. He often carries matches with Trespass logos on the packet. A heavy golden door knocker of a lion with its mouth open hangs on the door, staring at us.

“Three knocks, followed by a three-second pause, then one further knock, and the door will open,” Rev casually says to me.He lights a cigarette with his back to the wall.

I’m still wondering how he knows this shit, but that’s a conversation for another day. I’m wearing a tight black dress that strangles my rib cage and laces up the back. I’m also wearing a gold embroidered velvet mask over my eyes, the dress code for tonight.

Rev has a leather mask over his eyes, and his black hair is slicked back. He wears a crisp white shirt, the starchy collar sits around his freshly shaven neck, and his large shoulders are shrouded in a black trench coat.His attire covers his injuries, but I know the ones that aren’t seen are the ones that hurt the most.

The door opens, and a woman with long, red flowing hair and wearing a 15th-century bustier stands sulking in the entrance and chewing her nails. She has tattoos all over her fingers and greets us without words. She pats both of us down; not that I could fit any weapons in my outfit. She pays special attention to Rev. I feel like they’ve met before.

He stares at her like they’re having a telepathic conversation. Her eyes avert, and she steps back, clearing the doorway for us to enter.

My mind races, and that’s because I’m jealous. But I need to focus. Where the fuck is Blake?

The club smells like incense and sex. Black velvet covers the walls, and I see birdcages with exotic birds hanging around the room. It pisses me off, and I want to set them free. Standing in front of one cage, I see a large macaw staring back at me with one eye. His cage is lit up like a stage, and he shimmers red, blue, and yellow. A hand reaches in front of me and opens the cage door.

“They’re free to go,” says a voice behind me. It’s Rev.

I turn to him, probably still looking in horror, and he closes my mouth with the back of his hand beneath my chin.

“They just choose not to,” he reveals, smiling.

I stare back at the macaw, who watches me calmly. The door is wide open, and he begins to preen and pick at his feathers.

“I guess we learn to adapt,” I reply, thinking how I can relate. “Sometimes, we’re safer in a cage.”

Rev nods, his golden eyes appearing even more hypnotic under that mask as he scans our surroundings. His eyes are alight in the darkness; he likes this place.

The club isn’t big, but it’s filled with patrons, and I know this place is invite-only. It’s elite, and I wonder if there is some kind of secret handshake to get invited. Of course Rev is here, blending in like he belongs. I like the way he adapts to any situation like a chameleon and comes and goes unnoticed, always getting whatever it is he needs.

There isn’t anything I don’t like about him. I wonder if he feels the same way about me. I’ve never had anyone care about me the way he does. It’s brutal in every way, and I’m addicted. I don’t believe in insta-love, but I feel like I’ve known Rev through centuries of past lives. Always meeting and falling over and over again.

A tragic love story sealed with a bloody kiss.

Our connection is warped and unconventional, but it’s our story, and I’ll be damned if I allow those monkey footballer bastards to take everything from me.

And now…it’smyturn to take.

I look beyond the cage and see an alcove tucked away behind a red velvet curtain upstairs. I know Blake is in there.I can feel him like a sickness lurking behind my ribs waiting to end me. My heart begins to race, pumping blood around my mental insanity. I can almost taste the pain he will endure, and it’s my elixir.

Rev peers into the direction I am focused on. He reads my thoughts. “Go.”

He runs a finger down over the back of my shoulder, and I know he won’t be far from me. It feels like the music playing is throbbing to egg me on. I’m excited and angry; it’s a feeling I’m getting used to. A delicious cocktail of emotion I’m beginning to crave.

I discreetly circle around patrons who are being whipped, led around by chains, strung up and caressed. The beauty of submission is that they hold all the power despite appearances. I’m not judging. I know why they want to be trained and adored. There are no rules here. Anything goes. We can all be our depraved selves, living out fantasies that serve our primal needs.

Climbing the stairs, I part the red curtain, and my eyes take a moment to adjust. When they do, I see a small, narrow corridor that looks like a medieval foyer. More ornate doors are blocking my view, and I am careful to keep hidden within the shadows, listening until I hear…him.

Putting both hands on the doors, I push and don’t bother being discreet about it. I see Blake with a woman. There’s no one else in the room.

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