Page 21

I wanted to take a shower before bed, starting to feel the dirt on my skin again. I don’t ever want to feel that again. The dirt being caked on my skin, not getting a real shower but only the water bucket thrown on me.

Trying to stand up, I wobble and fall right back onto the couch. Within the second, Riot is by my side and picking me up.

I latch to his front like a koala, and I hear his chuckle, it’s vibrating me as he puts his hand under my ass, his other hand by his side.

“Where do you want to go, Moss?” he asks gruffly, and I point to the bathroom with my head still resting on his shoulder.

Once he walks in, I get out of his arms, almost falling when I land on the ground until his hands go around my waist as he huffs with disapproval.

Holding onto the shower glass, I try to walk to the door, but fail as Riot takes me back into his arms. I think he knows what I’m trying to do, as he walks into the shower and sets me down on my feet. His hands stay on my shoulders to keep me balanced.

“Can I take your clothes off so I can get you washed up and into bed?” His eyes are focused on mine, searching them for my answer. I nod my head slowly, the motion making me more dizzy.

I feel his hands move, going to the hem of my dress and pulling it off in one swoop. I now stand here in just my pink lacy underwear, as I wasn’t wearing a bra. Not a thong, but not bikinis either. I don’t know what they are called.

I put my head down, ashamed of my new body. He turns on the water, letting it fall down my body, down every curve.

His hands gently goes under my chin, making me look at him. I look into his eyes, seeing lust and longing in them. “You are perfect, Penelope. Do not ever think otherwise. So perfect for me, my hands and my arms to hold you,” he growls.

My eyes start to fill with tears, mixed in with the water. He still has his clothes on, the water soaking them and making them stick to his body like latex. It highlights every muscle and ridge on his sculpted body.

I crave to lick the water off him. God, what the fuck is wrong with me? “I’m scared I may be falling for you,” he whispers, leaning down and resting his head against mine.

“Why?” I ask. His head pulls back, and his eyes peer into mine, laced with desperation. “I don’t want to hurt you. This world is dangerous.” Does he really like me? I really fucking hope this isn’t a game. He doesn’t want to hurt me. He actually cares.

“Anything can hurt you in this life. I have more enemies than there are people in this state. You are in danger if you’re with me. I won’t live with myself if you get hurt.” His eyes shine with tears. Is he crying right now? Maybe this is my happy ending, with him. No man cries over a woman unless the feelings are real.

“I can’t suffer anymore pain than what I already have. I don’t know how to love, or what it is. But I think I want to learn what it is with you.” His eyes looked surprised, almost angry. He doesn’t say anything more, but smashes his lips against mine, his tongue swiping against my bottom lip to let him in. I do, and he invades my mouth with his tongue, tasting every inch, fighting with my own tongue.

He pulls away, and I feel sad at the loss of connection. “Let’s get you washed up, drunk girl,” he chuckles, grabbing the now girly soap and starting to work it in my hair, massaging at the same time.

I smile at the memory. Not feeling taken advantage of, not feeling sorrow for myself, letting myself feel happy for once. Some spots are blurry, but I blame the alcohol.

The wine he let me try tasted like straight juice, and I just wanted to chug the whole bottle. The kiss we shared was electric, like every time before. I dream of the next time I can kiss him.

I woke up to him gone. He said he would be. They left at dawn. I woke up for a second to some loud noises in the living room, his booming voice echoing throughout the hall. To them it may have been scary, but to me it was weirdly soothing, drifting me right back to sleep.

I tried to keep myself busy the rest of the day: learning how to cook, cleaning some of the less-used rooms that have collected dust.

Riot ordered enough food and ingredients to feed an entire school for a week. So I’ve been making the best of it. I’ve cooked all kinds of muffins, cakes, cupcakes, brownies, I tried my hand at fudge and pancakes. So much food covers every counter of the kitchen. At least I’ll never go hungry.

I finally went upstairs, as Riot showed me everything properly this time. There’s a bar up there, a home gym, and a bowling alley. So many things to do. I want to use the gym, wanting to lose the new weight and gain some muscle.

I know it won’t help if some guy the size of Riot tries to attack me, but it gives me peace of mind that maybe I could fight them for a second, at least a minute, anything.

Once the sun sets, I decide to have a sleepover on the roof. Wanting to sleep with the lights shining on me, the chilly breeze keeping me cool. I take pillows, blankets, and an air mattress I found in a closet upstairs.

Setting it all up, I make sure to weigh the blankets down so they don’t get blown away by the wind blaring through the buildings.

I fall asleep to the sound of the wind, the sound of the water rushing from the river, the people playing music in the streets for money, and the moon beaming on my skin. To nature and the beings on this Earth.

…

“Linda!” I exclaim, dropping the blankets in my hands and rushing over to her for a hug. I haven’t seen her in about a week, so I’ve missed her.

“Deary! I was hoping you wanted to have a little girls’ day with me. We can go get our nails and toes done, and go shopping!” She kisses both of my cheeks, and I do the same. It worries me that she wants to take me outside. I’ve never had this kind of freedom.

“I do-don’t know. I’ve never been ou-outside like that.” My speech slurs with my anxiety and not knowing how to pronounce certain things.