Page 7 of Borrowed
Even the screams.
Even the skin.
Even the love that slips through like honey on glass.
They think I’m sick.But I’m just in love.
The room’s got that sour breath smell—plastic mattresses, the closet that sounds like grandma.It’s just like the corner where the pills were crushed into applesauce, silence that was too thick to swallow.But I could still feel him, even through all that.
Toby was sitting on the small dresser, legs swinging like he was just a bored boy in Sunday school, but his eyes—his eyes burned through me like lit matches under the skin, under those bandages.
“Take it off,”he murmured.“You look too clean.”
I froze.
His voice curled under my ribs and hooked there.I glanced at Mila.Her breath was shallow, like she was dreaming of drowning.
Good.Let her stay in sleep.
Toby’s moans were mine for now.
“I said,”he drawled, sliding down from the dresser slowly.Like the cats Mila loved.“Take it off, Zusje.Now.”
I did.
Because I loved him.
Because he came back.
Because when his voice touched me, it felt like it was inside me…coiling, wrapping, feeding.
I pulled the shirt over my head.My nipples hardened in the cold air, and I shivered like he wanted.
“Mmm.Yes, just like that.There’s my good girl.”
I slid the pants down next, letting them pool around my ankles before stepping out of them like I was stepping out of the person they wanted me to be.
Quiet.
Obedient.
Fixed.
I’m none of those things.
Toby walked toward me, slow as a snake.
But snakes didn’t walk.
His fingers didn’t touch, but I felt him everywhere.Heat radiated between my thighs, and I felt the pressure in my chest.
“Let me see where you need me.Let me hear that heartbeat like your pitiful little rabbits.”
I closed my eyes and tilted my head.
“Spread just slightly.”
I knew what he meant.He wanted to see my pussy.He liked that kind of kitty.
