Page 82 of Lust

Someone knocks at the door.

Fucking Anthura!I yank open the door. “What?”

I open the door to find Rowena standing there, looking startled.Shit! I turn my bad side away from her and close the door until there’s only a couple of inches between it and the doorframe.

“What do you want?” I bark.

She looks uncomfortable. “I think you saved my life.”

“Yeah, so?” I snap. I do not need this right now.

“So you did save my life? I couldn’t understand why you were with me when the ceiling collapsed. I remembered I was with Moloch when the ceiling began to fall, but apparently Moloch got out unscathed.” She points to her head and gives me a shy smile. “My memory is still a little hazy.”

I thought she’d come to get some gossip for those friends of hers, or worse, to give me pity, but this is much worse than either of those things. She’s here to offer gratitude. “Don’t get your panties in a bunch. The ceiling fell, and you were in my way as I was trying to get past.”

She knits her eyebrows together. “I don’t remember it that way. You shielded me. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for you.” She gives a nonchalant shrug. “Well, more dead.”

I narrow my eyes, skeptical. “I thought your memory was hazy?”

“I think I remember that,” she admits tentatively. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Yeah, well, it didn’t happen like that.” I bite out in annoyance. “You were in my way.”

“Anyway. You still saved me, and I wanted to say thank you.” She pauses. “How’s your…” She points to her head again, then mine.

I lean back from the door, irritated. “It’s fine,” I grind out. “Look, you’ve said your thanks, now fuck off.”

Her expression turns somber. “I brought you some food, you ungrateful prick,” she says, holding up a paper bag. “Donuts. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up to eating.”

She means if I’d want to show my hideous face down in the restaurant.

“I got room service.” I clench my jaw, which shoots a shock of pain reverberating around my skull… What’s left of it.

“Fine. Whatever.” She turns to leave.

Damn it! “Wait.”

She turns back to me and damn it if she doesn’t have a hint of hope in her eyes.

“Jesus, fuck. Just come in. I forgot to order dessert.” I open the door wider and do the unthinkable. I let Rowena Bagshot into my room.

Her face has a few scratches, but the matted blood has been washed from her hair, which she’s curled. She’s changed into one of her god awful dresses. At least this one isn’t like the usual floaty tents she wears. It actually clings to her, giving her a surprisingly feminine figure.

“I’ll pop them here, should I? I can feel her nerves. The way her eyes dart around the room as though I’m going to pounce on her. It’s not like her. Usually she’s a catty bitch. I’m not sure if I like it. I’ve gotten used to her sharp tongue.

I stride over and take the bag from her and peer inside. Inside it are four donuts, each covered in pink frosting.

“That’s the only color they had,” she apologizes.

“Fucking pink,” I complain. “It’s like living in a fucking Barbie Dream House in this place.” I hand over one of the donuts which she takes.

“I never played with Barbie’s as a kid,” she confesses as she takes a bite of the donut. “I was more into trucks.”

I snort. “I bet.”

“Mock me all you like. I lived on a farm. Everyone worked. I was driving tractors at the age of eight.”

My eyebrows inch up as I bite into the donut. It tastes sickly sweet, like everything else in this flea pit. “You drove tractors at the age of eight? Really?” I didn’t expect that, but then again, I didn’t expect her to give great head. My eyes are drawn to her lips at the thought. She’s got a smudge of pink frosting on her bottom lip that’s more inviting than I want to think about. I bring my focus back to my own donut.

---