Page 30 of Twins for the Enemy

A flicker of fear runs through me, thinking of how alarming it is to not be in control, but he doesn’t leave any room to question it. With that level of command over my body, the fear is swallowed up by the intensifying satisfaction.

My legs are tense against his waist as another orgasm hits, a result of the direct pressure of him grinding hard against me. The explosion inside me feels like the world imploding, with all of the natural and feral beauty flashing through me.

He collapses into me, barely keeping himself from crushing me with his weight. His heavy breath hits against my shoulder while his shirt sticks to my sweat-drenched skin. He must have come, but I was too overcome to notice.

As I come back into my body, some of the aches become noticeable—my back, my wrists, my thighs. But it’s a good ache. It’s a souvenir.

Kieran slowly pulls himself off of me, zipping and buckling his pants. He doesn’t look at me.

“That shouldn’t have happened,” Kieran says.

I look down at myself, naked on my kidnapper’s mansion stairs. I feel infinitely more naked now. The only thing stopping me from grabbing my underwear and rushing to pull them on is that I know how childishand emotional it would look—and the fact that they are in shreds at my feet.

“I agree,” I say. “It was a mistake.”

He nods once before pivoting off the bottom step and walking away. I focus on the physical aches now to distract me from the way my heart is clanging in my chest—a bell that won’t be answered.

It was foolish to let my hormones get the best of me. I should have learned the first time.

The overwhelming sensations made me feel like we were burning the whole world down, but the problem with annihilation is that it ends with me standing in the ashes, alone.

I pull on one of the long-sleeved shirts Kieran gave me. It drapes on me like a white dress, the lowest button hitting between my thighs, the silky material contrasting with the soreness in my legs. It’s been four days since we slept together, but while Kieran seemsto have vanished into the ether, I can’t go downstairs without the feeling of heavy breath against my ear or a tight grip on my wrists.

I can’t eat without thinking about our dinner together, his hand around my arm as his thumb caressed my wrist.

I can’t sleep without remembering him placing the blanket over me—a gesture I overanalyzed into meaning I meant more than a body to get off with.

I can’t even wear his clothes without feeling his body heat, but I don’t have a choice when I’ll need to walk in the cold for a while before I find a taxi.

He never gave me a coat, and I can’t find one around the house. As I stop in front of the entrance doors, I wait for someone to jump out of the shadows and stop me. As I open them, I wait for a shrieking alarm to alert Kieran that I’m leaving. As I step out, I look around for surveillance cameras.

Nothing.

It should feel like freedom, but it feels more like I’m walking out of my house while forgetting my wallet or my phone.

I mean, I don’t have either of those, but it’s the sense that I’m forgetting something that I need.

It’s a colder walk than I expect to get to the gates. Even after I press the button to open the gates and start taking the sidewalk, it seems like all signs of life are banned around it. No squirrels, no people, no cars.

For the last few days, the cook would be prepared with meals like clockwork at 9 a.m., 12 p.m., and 5:30 p.m., but whenever I tried to talk to him, he answered in one-word replies. I’d seen a glimpse of a housekeeper yesterday, but she could have been a lonely illusion because when I tried to find her a few seconds later, she was gone.

The only sign of life that didn’t feel hostile or imaginary was a deer that visited the stream in the backyard. I always recognized it as the same one because it was missing the tip of its left ear. I’d avoided giving it a name so I wouldn’t get attached, butseeing how lifeless this street is, I can’t stomp out the hope of seeing it.

I shiver, bundling Kieran’s shirt tighter around me. I should’ve layered another shirt underneath it. Another mistake to add to my never-ending list.

I hear a car before I see it. I duck my head low, letting my hair drape over my face. Kieran would notice it’s me right away, but if one of his house staff is looking for me, they may doubt themselves enough to pass by.

The car drives by. I catch a glimpse of a woman on her phone, her hands cheerfully flourishing. Not somebody looking for me.

As I cross a sidewalk, the city comes back to life with cars aggressively cutting each other off and people loudly talking on their phones.

In front of a corner store, I see the marigold yellow of a taxi. I run forward. I still had sixteen dollars from my work as a house cleaner. It’s just enough to get to Neal’s apartment.

When the taxi drops me off, it feels strange to see the apartment after more than two months. Maybe Kieran’s mansion had turned me into a snob, but the building looks like it’s slowly collapsing on itself. The metal door is covered with years of graffiti, while all the windows are covered in a greenish-gray film.

I have to wiggle the door handle at a few different angles before it opens. I plod up the stairs, abruptly feeling tired. I walk down the hallway until I reach room 204. I knock.

I listen to the scrambling of someone rushing to get up. The door jerks open.

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