Page 10 of That Sik Luv

Her curiosities are pushing her towards me. I just need to wait until they’re eating her alive.

Chapter six

A Test

Iopenmyeyes,immediately sitting up, wildly searching around my room for him.

I don’t even know whoheis, but something inside of me is not only terrified, but intrigued.

The sun is just about to peek over the horizon. The light glow in my room illuminates the knife sticking out of my nightstand.

There’s a knife in my nightstand.

I fist my blankets, clutching the soft fabric to my chest. As if it matters now. He was here again. Watching me while I slept.

A chill spreads down my arms, goosebumps cloaking me as if his presence was still here, touching me.

I squint my eyes, seeing what looks like hair pinned into the wood. My hair. I grasp it in my hands, feeling the ends and finding the sharp edges of the recent cut. Air slips through my lips as my heart thuds through me like a beating drum. I lean in closer, peering down at the ripped page stripped from the bible again, this one torn from Luke 12:7.

Indeed, the very hairs on your head are numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Written over the circled passage is his message in red ink.

A doll with a stain. A toy with imperfections. A woman with a weapon. -Aero

My chest tightens as I read the words, my mind racing with thoughts. I can’t even decide if what I’m feeling is fear or excitement. I look at the garbage can, seeing the awaiting bud.

Walking over, I pull it out by the thorny stem, inspecting the insidious message. Sitting on the bench before my large vanity mirror, I hold the cool, velvety bud to my chest. My eyes focus on the reflection before me as I slowly drag it from the slight divot beneath my throat, down past my collarbones and between my breasts.

Something of a fire stirs within me, igniting through my veins, and I close my eyes, feeling my nipples harden into tight, pointy buds. I’m imagining his hands on me again, remembering the vivid smell of leather and sulfur creating an odd array of sensations. I spread my legs slightly, drawing a line with the rosebud from between my breasts, down to my abdomen. As the bud finds my thigh, I tip my head back, dragging it along the sensitive skin there until it meets the place that’s aching with a heat I’ve never felt before.

My phone rings, startling me, and I immediately throw the bud in the trash can. Disappointment floods me, and I’m frustrated with myself at the temptations stirring in the pit of my stomach.

He’s bringing out feelings that come from somewhere dark and entirely too deep. Sensations that girls like me don’t entertain.

I see that it’s Saint calling, so I pick it up, attempting to sound awake and alert, not vulnerable and on the point of breaking.

“Morning Bri,” he says in a cracked tone, as if he just woke up.

“It’s a bit early for you, isn’t it?” I joke, looking at the clock.

It’s just after six.

“I wanted to reach you before it was too late.”

My heart drops to my stomach, wondering what he knows that I don’t.

“I figured I could give you a ride since we’re both instructing the Catechism class today.”

Relief washes over me.

“Oh,” I breathe. “I didn’t know you were assigned that class as well?”

“For the next six weeks,” he says with a sigh.

I hear what sounds like a shower turning on in the background.

“So what do you say? Can I pick you up?”