Page 292 of Satan's Spawn
The answer to the last one is always no.
At least not yet.
I roll onto my side, slinging an arm over his chest. “I like to project positivity into the universe. Good juju and all that.”
He takes my arm and slides my hand behind his boxers. “I doubt good juju is enough to keep everyone’s lulu out of prison.”
Although I have plans to touch Junior Satan in a bit, I pull my hand out and slap his bare chest with it. “What the fuck is a lulu?”
He mouths the word ‘lunatic’.
“Eh, if there’s one thing I learned being with you, it’s that sanity is overrated.”
Crayton runs a thumb down the side of my face. “Little Ghost, I need you to seriously prepare yourself if things go south.”
“North.” I scowl at him.
He lifts himself to rest on his elbow. “Rebecca, stop the denial shit. We both know it can go either way.”
“But Micah said my testimony gave the jury a new perspective. That it really did help.”
His lip twitches. “Help yes, but the case isn’t won. I can still be found guilty.”
“You just wait and see…they will find you innocent and you’ll tell me how right I was.Then…you can let me ride your face into the sunset as a thank you for not being the Debbie Downer in our relationship.”
Crayton shakes his head, still so much agony planted into his features. I know he’s worried about me, especially my reaction in the courtroom if he’s found guilty, but I’m a big girl. A big girl who believes wholeheartedly that the truth will prevail.
“Denial isn’t just a river in Egypt” is what Crayton keeps saying to me, but all I know is that shit is nowhere near the Hudson.
“I don’t want you getting hurt.” This new, innocent tone of his voice slides through once again. “I don’t want you to look at me in that room with those sad broken eyes after they label me a murderer. Knowing your confession was all for nothing. All your pain was for nothing. It’ll gut me deeper than any fucking shiv in prison.”
“Well, it’s a good thing that won’t happen, then.”
He throws his back onto the mattress, once again defeated in our game of pessimist versus optimist.
“I’m just tired of hurting you.”
I nuzzle into his side. “You haven’t hurt me in forever, Crayton. Everything we’re going through now is just a bump in a very long road.”
“Or it’s the bump that’ll be very long.”
Pressing my pointer to his lips, I make a shushing noise, then divert his attention back to the bump in his pants. “That’s it. Less talking, more touching.” I slide a hand down his stomach. “I want you stress free and ready to toss those deuces up at the D.A. when we’re done with him.”
* * *
My eyes blink lazily awake,the rays from the sun nearly blinding me before I hold a hand in front of my face to block them. My tongue is dry so I tap it against the roof of my mouth as I roll onto my back, already reaching out for Crayton.
My eyelids fly open when I find the other side of the bed empty. Panic floods my system so fast when I shoot up into a sitting position, it feels as though my heart was left on the mattress. I scan the room quickly before turning to reach out for my phone on the nightstand, finding that missing too.
Checking the time on the wall clock, I curse. “Damn you! You stupid selfish selfless asshole!”
I don’t need the Scooby Squad to solve the mystery of this missing monster. Or his abandoned Little Ghost.
Crayton took away the only alarm I had to make sure I don’t make it to the closing arguments, which is something I would’ve anticipated if I wasn’t up all night fucking the hesitancy out of him.
There’s also the disconnected alarm clock.
The missing car keys.
