Page 144 of Shadowman
“Well, I should be going.” I smile and wave at Felix. “See you around, love.” Then I peek at Dr. Love. “You too…Love.”
I giggle at my own stupid joke, which, more than anything, is for the purpose of making them both uncomfortable. Then I strut away, forcing myself not to look back.
I won’t get my hopes up that this one interaction will mess with their relationship. But a girl can dream, right?
Following the long halls through the prison, my mind is playing back everything that’s happened today. And yesterday, and in the weeks leading up to right now. Where Iamas opposed to where Iwasthe last time I saw Dr. Love professionally is like night and day.
My eyes scan over the crumbling walls and ceilings, streaked with leakage stains and mold, literal cracks in the foundation. Based on the conversation I had with Byron the other day, this prison is sparsely maintained to say the least, and although it’s allegedly government-funded, said funding either doesn’t cover repairing and upgrading, or it’s not being used for such things.
It takes me a while to find my way back up to general population. This building is a maze, and I just don’t understand why there isn’t, at the very least, the occasional sign indicating where the hell you are. Frankly, it feels intentional. Disorientation is clearly a part of it.
Finally, I make it backhome. The bars open the moment I push them—Thank you, Daddy Ivory—giving the illusion that I’mvalued, though I realize that beneath Manuel Blanco’s coddling words, he’s using me.
It’s fine. It’s what I’m here for, after all. If someone actually wanted therealme, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.
“You’ll never guess what just happened!” I chirp to Byron as I strut inside the cell—free as a bird who gets to let himself in and out of his cage.
Byron is sitting on his bed, back propped against the wall. He spares me a brief glance, but doesn’t respond. He barely even reacts to my presence.
But I keep talking. “After my session with Dr. Love, I decided to pop in for a visit with our pal Felix Darcey.” I breathe a chuckle, though Byron isn’t sharing my excitement. “Apparently, Murder Baby is a tad insecure about his relationship.”
I go for a bottle of water, cracking it open and taking a sip.
Byron’s eyes jump to mine for a split second again, and he mumbles, “Sweet.” Zero enthusiasm.
I narrow my gaze at him.That “sweet” didn’t sound so sweet…
“Are you doing alright?” I step up to the edge of the bed. “You seem grumpier than usual.”
He scoffs. “I’m notgrumpy. I just don’t care about Felix Darcey’s fucking problems…”
The scowl he’s wearing is purely adorable, but I choose not to upset him further by voicing such things.
“Byron, what’s wrong?” I continue to prod, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Tell me—”
“Nothingis wrong, Trevel,” he snaps. “Leave it alone. I’mfine.”
Flopping over onto his side, he grabs his pillow and petulantly covers his head with it.
I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose.He’s too cute for real life, but this needs to stop.
We didn’t speak about the blowjob through the hole in my mattress. I was fine with it, being that the bliss from that experience was so strong, evenIhad nothing to say. But my timorous new roomie seems to have come out of the experience even more withdrawn. Barely able to make eye contact, speaking in one-word grunts. Much to my dismay, the fooling around may have regressed our relationship.
Fine…So I may have crawled into his bed this morning to watch him sleep again. But I barely even realized I was doing it! I’m nottryingto be creepy or anything… With the nature of my troubled sleep, having him nearby is a comfort. I suppose I got carried away.
Regardless, I simply cannot fathom why he’s able to hook up with his other friends so easily, but withme,it’s a big fat problem.
We’re well aware that my toxic trait is being tragically attracted to people who want to use me, and a saboteur of anythinggenuine, orhealthy.Prime example… Andres Alvarez.His sister was perfect, and we had the makings of something truly special. But I squandered it the moment an atrocious human being with tattoos and a big dick showed me a hint of sexual attention.
It’s a sickness, I’m telling you. Red flags make my pussy wet.
That’s not to say I think Byron is a horrendous plonker like Andres was. In fact, he’s a smart, loyal, if wildly misunderstood, catch. But it doesn’t take X-ray vision to see that he’s hiding his true self. Shields up sky-high and fighting to keep his demons tucked securely beneath his surface.
Naturally, it just makes me like him more.
See? Infinitely more attracted to the science projects.
Crawling over to him, I place a hand on his waist, feeling him stiffen beneath my touch. I roll my eyes because, despite how good his body feels to touch, all soft skin and plump muscle—he rarely wears a shirt, and I’m living for it—he’s driving me mental with hisalleged straight-boyproblems.
