Page 56 of Wicked Dove
Sweat clingsto me like a second skin as I approach Institute Thirteen, the moonlight guiding me home. I stop a few steps away from the door, peering up at the building’s tall peaks and gloomy exterior. I’m exhausted—more than exhausted. It’s exactly what I needed. Every muscle aches, the rage has simmered away, and my head is back on straight. I can thinkclearly, I can see it all. It hasn’t changed my intentions; I still want Warren fucking Blackwood’s location, but I’m able to approach the matter a lot more levelheaded.
That might change when I finally get the chance to meet him, but for now, I’m refocused.
Entering Thirteen, I take the stairs two at a time, racing to the top as fast as I descended them earlier, but as I reach my door, I pause, peering at the one across the hall instead. She’s in there. I know she is. I can catch her scent from out here and it stirs the need inside of me again.
I shouldn’t have been so selfless earlier, I could have felt her hands on me, I could have come too. But there’s time for that. My cock stands tight beneath my shorts, straining for attention, and I shake my head in disbelief.
My cock is never like this.
Ever.
But for her, it won’t go down.
Before I can think better of it, I cut the few steps across the hall and stop in front of her bedroom door. I lift my hand to knock, but the idea of waking her up makes my heart clench. Instead, I twist the door handle and let it fall open with a creak.
The chance to step over the threshold is halted as Ocean appears in the crack, knife poised and aimed my way.
What the fuck?
“You don’t always have to be so psychotic, Ocean,” I grunt, and she sneers at me. The look in her eyes makes me certain she’s going to use that damn thing. Even her pajamas are blood red, like she’s prepared for the moment.
“And you also don’t have to ignore the rules of a door,” she grunts in response, waving the knife around precariously. “Maybe I should let Professor Morton know that you’re breaking and entering,” she adds, cocking a devilish eyebrow at me, and I scoff.
“I didn’t break anything,” I whisper, keeping my voice low in hopes of not disturbing Elodie, and Ocean sighs.
“Trespassing then.”
She’s persistent, that’s for sure.
I roll my eyes and lift my hands in surrender. “I just want to see her,” I state truthfully, and she shrugs.
“She’s sleeping.”
“Even better,” I insist as I nudge the door with my foot, and it spills open just enough to reveal the sleeping beauty to me.
“Don’t wake her,” Ocean warns, taking a step back but continuing to brandish the knife in my direction.
“I don’t intend to,” I admit, my gaze fixed on the girl in question as I step over the threshold, but I don’t move an inch closer.
I stand there, staring at her in wonder, all while Ocean glares at the side of my face, but what startles me is the desire to touch her. My fingers ache to feel her skin against mine, to learn every inch of her from head to toe. It’s too much.
Before I do something stupid, I stumble back a step, narrowly missing the door frame as I charge for my room. I don’t even bother to speak to Ocean, and she’s more than content to close the door the second I’m out of there, leaving me alone in the hallway with my thoughts.
I gulp, but my heart continues to race. She has me all tangled up and I don’t know what to do about it.
SEVENTEEN
ELODIE
Ifrown as I glance at the clock that hangs above the television in the trailer. I really need to tidy up my fold-away bed before my parents get home, which isn’t for another few hours, but if I plan on meeting Walker early, I need to start now.
Hugging my old, worn blanket tighter to my chest, I try to find the strength, but it feels harder than usual today. Instead, I close my eyes and give myself thirty seconds to dream of another life before I have to get my butt in gear.
I imagine what it would feel like to want to go to school, to have parents excited to see me when I get home. I imagine what it would feel like to be surrounded by people who want to be with you. It doesn’t have to be in a mansion, or even a house altogether. It could be here still, the three of us huddled together tight on the tiny sofa with a movie playing. To be loved like that is like a dream and my heart swells at the thought.
I imagine what it would feel like to be carefree. The constant struggle to survive the day from the moment I open my eyes is exhausting. Sometimes more exhausting than others, like today, where my energy is zapped by simply waking up. I wonder what it would be like to start the day with a smile, a heart full of hope, and optimism for what’s to come.
I picture a little space for myself, with flowers on my blanket and a grin on my face as I bask in my life. Instead, it weighs me down like an old comforter that’s seen better days. Someday, I’ll see better days. I hope. I just have to make it through these days first.
