Page 24 of Grimstone

“I know.” He nestles back smugly on the pillows. “I did a good thing.”

“Well, don’t get too cocky—you have chocolate on your face.”

“No, I don’t,” he says, looking haughty.

I laugh because he absolutely does—a big streak across his nose.

* * *

Jude fallsasleep in the middle of our second movie. I clean up the mess and haul my brother up the stairs because sleepy Jude does not give a fuck about my leg. He can’t even make sentences.

“Brush your teeth,” I say.

“Mrghashwa,” is his response.

As I’m following my own advice and brushing my own damn teeth, my phone buzzes next to the sink.

Can’t we just talk?

I spit, all the warmth of the evening sucking down the drain with the toothpaste.

Another message flashes up:

Remi, I swear I don’t know how—

I don’t open the message to read it. Instead, I do what I should have done weeks ago and block Gideon’s contact.

It’s like I turned off a buzzing fan in the room. My suite becomes calm and quiet and cool.

I pad across the room barefoot and slip under the covers, my inflatable mattress crinkling beneath me on the comically opulent four-poster.

Tonight, the creaks and groans of the house are gentle as sighs. I don’t hear anything that sounds like somebody moving around. And definitely no piano keys.

My body is heavy with exhaustion, muscles aching. God, I’d kill for a hot shower instead of the minute and a half I managed under the icy spray.

Still, I feel surprisingly peaceful. Even with my left tit throbbing.

I examined it in the mirror: the piercing was perfectly fine, though the nipple was swollen and red.

Unconsciously, I reach up and pinch the other one, like I’m evening them out.

The bolt of pain causes an unexpected response lower down. My thighs squeeze together.

I touch myself, still pinching my nipple. My fingers slide across my pussy lips, shockingly slick. My wetness is thin and slippery and already spreading down my thighs.

I twist my nipple between my fingers and thumb. It’s only a fraction as hard as Dane did it but much rougher than how I’ve touched myself before. The bite of pain is soothed by the soft pressure of my fingers against my clit.

I picture Dane’s amber-colored eyes close to my face, and the heat of his lips against my ear…

I did it because I want my fence fixed…and because I liked cutting off your shorts…

I pinch my nipple furiously, fingers rubbing against my clit. The harder I squeeze, the harder I rub, until the sensation blasting through my body is a twisting bullet of pleasure and pain.

The face in my mind is Dane’s, no thoughts of Gideon at all.

And that night, I sleep deeply, no creaks or keys played by restless ghosts.

It doesn’t mean anything.

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