Page 29 of Grotesque
Absentmindedly I made my way through a couple of Bristol’s boutiques. I didn’t wear the type of clothes they sold here. They were too modest and dull-colored, covered in ruffles and bows, much more traditional than what we wore in Miami. Then again, I supposed my style would need a complete overall from flashy bikinis and shorts. I looked down at myself, the jeans I was currently wearing were one of only two pairs that I owned.
I made mental notes of a few pieces that weren’t totally hideous and planned to come back for them when my allowance came in at the end of the month. I did, however, allow myself the purchase of a book fromWicks and Pages, a candle shop and bookstore in one, that even offered wine while you shopped. The blurb promised a dark romance about a vampire hunting a woman on the streets of New Orleans, whose obsession with her begins to override his thirst for her blood. A quick search of reviews online varied from “Keep a vibrator on hand” to “This book and its author are seriously messed up”.
I had my priorities straight obviously. Maybe it could even give me a little insight into my current situation.
Ha, I really was losing it.
I nestled in a leather chair in the back of the store to finish my glass of wine. The book was shockingly good, and I only made it through five pages before realizing it was going to be an instant favorite.
Somewhere at the front of the shop the bell rang, and gruff voices broke through the cozy silence.
“Come on, it’ll be real quick. Books fix everything,” one of the guys said.
“You don’t even know what it’s called.” My ears perked up. That one sounded vaguely familiar.
“So? I know it has a castle on the front and that it’s some new fairy smut or whatever. Fuck man, I don’t know how women get away with reading this shit, but men get thrown under the bus for watching porn. The double standard bullshit gets to me.”
A low chuckle came from the second man as they moved in my direction. That laugh I definitely recognized.Quint.
We had traded a few texts here and there but truthfully, I wasn’t invested in keeping the conversation going when I had so many other things occupying my mind.
“Yeah, it’s bullshit.” Quint sounded disinterested.
I was putting my book away to greet him when I heard the first guy say my name. “So how’s it going with that Sorcha chick? You fuck her yet?”
I froze, holding the book suspended between my lap and the bag I was sliding it into.
“Uh, not yet.” It sounded like Quint said something else, but it was muffled.
“Why not? She’s fucking hot.”
“And you’re with my sister,” Quint said, his tone gaining an edge of annoyance. “You shouldn’t be calling anyone hot.”
“Whatever. Where the fuck… ah, fantasy section’s over there. So, why haven’t you closed the deal yet, bro?”
My heart was pounding, that they were right behind me. I pulled my book out casually and shifted so that my back would be to them if they came around the corner.
“She’s new and still getting adjusted to the area. I’m taking my time getting to know her.”
“Since when have you ever taken the time to get to know someone?” There was a slight pause and the thump of books as they were pulled off the shelf and slid back into place. “There’s something else. What is it?”
Quint sighed and with it my heart dropped. “I think she’s crazy.”
It was like all the saliva in my mouth dried up with those four words. Nausea twisted in my stomach at the same time as my hands dampened.
“Oh, she’s a freak?” The first guy snickered.
Quint chuckled too. “I don’t know, maybe. She’s Maxine’s granddaughter.”
“Oh shit. You serious?”
“Yeah. She had me stay over the other night because she thinks a monster broke into her house. She called me crying and everything.”
The audacity! I didn’t make him stay over; the asshole offered. He told me his own story of the horned man. My stomach twisted again. It had been a ploy to get close to me, and I’d been an idiot for not realizing. I didn’t catch whatever they said next because my blood was roaring in my ears, drowning out all other sound. I’d gone from being embarrassed to fuming.
I knew for a fact I wasn’t crazy, I had the marks to prove it. I hadn’t imagined anyone coming into my house, it had been real.
The sound of a book being slapped snapped my attention back into place. “Yes! This is it!”
