Page 94 of Lust

“I just told you,” she snaps. “I’m busy.”

“Damn it, Anthura,” he says, frustration evident in his tone. “Stop bullshitting me. I need you right now.”

There’s wheedling in his voice, but I can hear the lie beneath it. I just hope Anthura doesn’t.

“Fine.” She sighs. “Come on then. I don’t have all day.”

There’s the sound of a door banging shut, then silence. My heart bottoms out as I realize they’ve both gone into her apartment and not down on the platform. I rush around the balcony to confirm what I already know. Damn Felix for screwing with me and damn me for thinking I could get into his brain.

The platform has already been called down, leaving me with no choice but to loiter outside Anthura's room, waiting for it to return. Gritting my teeth, I slam my foot down on the platform button and cross my arms.

I lean back on Anthura’s door but seconds later find myself sprawled on my ass in her apartment.

Looking up, I realize the door hadn't been securely closed.

Felix intentionally left it ajar.

I spring to my feet noiselessly and survey the open-plan area. Although I can't spot them, the unmistakable murmur of voices reaches me from her bedroom.

Way to go Felix!

I’m on edge as I creep further into the room. The place stinks of Anthura’s perfume. Any second Anthura could open the bedroom door and find me sneaking through her stuff. Silently, I open the drawers in her kitchen. Each one is filled with bottles of Dragonfire Whisky and very little else.

I shake my head in disbelief as Anthura's laughter mingles with an unmistakable lustful groan. I only hope Felix can keep it up as long as I need to find the marble key to the elevator that I know she owns.

Ignoring the very fake cries of passion, I delve into the credenza at the side of the living area. The top drawer is full of paperwork. I push it to the side quickly and rummage around in the back of the drawer. The marble isn’t there, but as I pull back my hand, the top layers of paper fall to the floor.

Shit!

The sound of a bed banging against the wall spurs me on. Swiftly, I snatch the papers and begin stuffing them into the drawer, but a glint of red catches my eye. Setting aside the top two papers, my heart leaps to my throat as I discover a handwritten letter. Addressed to Rowena in red ink, its contents are utterly repugnant. Yet, it's not the words that churn my stomach. It’s the exact same style as the letters that were sent to me in Purgatory. My heart almost stops as I come to the only possible conclusion. It was Anthura writing them the whole time.

“Oh Felix!” The sounds of Anthura’s fake orgasm comes in the version of a series of long screams.

Quickly, I grab all the papers and shove them in my pocket. As the last scream pierces my ears, I frantically open the other drawer. A sigh of relief escapes me as the blue marble shaped key rolls into sight. I seize it and bolt out of the apartment, gently closing the door after me. Ignoring the wait for the platform, I sprint down the stairs, almost exhausting myself in the process. Finally reaching my room, I collapse onto my bed, gasping for breath.

45

PSEUDO-PSYCHIATRY BULLSHIT

FELIX

My ears are practically bleeding from Anthura’s screams. It used to turn me on. Bitches that come loudly used to make me feel like a man. Not that I ever really cared about whether they came or not. Certainly, I never gave a shit about Anthura’s pleasure. She’s my ticket out of this hellhole and if I happen to get a good fuck out of it every now and again, then great. She doesn’t have to enjoy it. Rowena didn’t scream when she came. She let out a long sigh that sounded like she couldn’t quite catch her breath before swearing. I’ve never heard her swear before.

I did that!

It was so much more real than the symphony orchestra of screaming that Anthura forces me to listen to. I pull away from her and grab my shirt.

“Where are you going?” she asks breathlessly. A lighter clicks then the air fills with the acrid stench of cigarette smoke.

“You know I can’t stand you smoking. It stinks.” I pull my shirt on and make to walk away but she wraps her claws around my upper thigh. “Felix,” she purrs. “Don’t go. You wanted me to prove something, and I did.”

I pull away from her and turn to find her pouting. “You’re right. You did prove something to me.” No point telling her that she proved that fucking her is a miserable experience, one I don’t want to repeat. “I have to go.”

She exhales a puff of smoke in resignation. “Fine, but I’ll need you for this stupid ball Noémi is throwing. There’s no way I’m spending the entire night with fucking Moloch. You’ll be my partner.”

It’s a demand, not a request.

“Sure. Whatever.”

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