Page 238 of Shadowman
“I mean before that,” I rasp, trying to force the vulnerability out of my tone. “What did you two… do?” I clear my throat. “Did you talk to him about anything?”
Trevel gapes at me, as if he’s momentarily stunned by my question. It’s as endearing as it is infuriating, because I can’t fathom that hestillisn’t processing how one-sided this whole thing is.
I’m not Bonnie Parker…Heis. I’m Clyde Barrow… And that’s not a good thing. Clyde was a doormat for Bonnie,doing anything and everything to please her. And she just kept stringing him along, giving him just enough to keep him on the hook.
Joke or not, the metaphor stands. I never noticed how much of a fucking follower I am… How much my existence relies on the people who use me.
I am a fucking sidekick… A desperate fucking groupie.
Trevel’s eyes glisten with something I wish like hell I could read. But then he glances left and frowns, blinking himself out of it. It’s strange, but he just started doing that tonight, after we fucked in the woods. Almost like he’s talking himself out of something.
He brushes my hair back with his fingers. “I think it’s quite sexy how jealous you are, my sweet fury.”
I frown, but he kisses it off my lips.
“I don’t want you to worry, baby. Our plan worked. The Ivory has Dr. Love, and soon, he’ll have Felix. They’ll get what’s coming to them, and we’ll be safe here.”
My shoulder slumps a bit in defeat. I can barely hold myself up anymore. The weight of all this shit is crushing me.
“Hey,” Trevel whispers, grasping my chin and forcing my gaze back to his. “We have each other. That’s all that matters, yea?”
I blink at the promise in his eyes, nodding slowly.
“Good,” he purrs, kissing me softly. “Now, come here, warrior.” He brings me over to the bed. “You’re awfully tight. Let me work all that stress out of your big, sexy body.”
I don’t have it in me to resist right now. As much as I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being used or manipulated, I can’t deny that some part of me finds comfort in it. Especially right now. The relief of not having to think is pretty satisfying.
If playing the part of his toy gets me pleasure, for now, I’d be a fool to turn it down while the state of everything else is so grim.
So I crawl into the giant bed with my violet-eyed partner in crime and get naked. I let him work those magic hands on me until I’m blissed out, and then we spend hours tangled in fancy sheets.
It’s surreal, being here with Trevel. Fucking and cuddling in a luxurious king-size bed. Using lush sex and slow kisses to mask our realities.
From a prison to a mansion, but I’m still confined.
From one body to another… and I’m still in the dark.
Iwoke up this morning in a bedroom, in anactualbed, for the first time in three years. And I immediately thought I was dead.
The bed in Dr. Love’s room is insanely comfortable, like a complete one-eighty from the flimsy mattress on my rickety old bunk bed in the Pen. After the massage and multiple orgasms from Trevel last night, while the rain hit the windows like quixotic music… I was out cold.
Unfortunately, sleeping in wasn’t an option. Dawn brought with it a long-awaited break in the storm, and the harsh reality of the state of Alabaster Isle.
Last night wasn’t a bad dream… It really happened.
The prison has fallen. People are missing… Dead, or gone, or both. Velle is still over there, with his men, doing God knows what. Prisoners who attempt to flee are being gunned down like animals.
It’s chaos, plain and simple. Death, destruction, devastation.
And I’m just…here. Inside a lavish mansion, surrounded by people I don’t know, feeling more out of place than an earthworm among pythons.
Trevel and I have been sitting around for hours, quietly blending into the background as much as possible. Just tryingto stay out of the way, because there’s so much going on, and I wouldn’t have the first clue what part I’m expected to play, if any.
What am I supposed to be doing?
Why is he allowing me to stay here??
What… does hewantfrom me?
