Heart. Beating. So. Fast.
“You knew?” My voice is soft, still not fully believing it until this moment.
He nods. “I knew.”
“Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you approach me? Help me?”
He shakes his head. “Sorry, huntress. You can know that I lied, but you don’t get to know the rest.”
I hit him as hard as I can muster in his chest.
“I can’t believe you. I—I don’t understand how you are mad at me. Why do you want to kill me? You were the one who knew and did nothing. You betrayed me!”
“Think really hard. Your only chance at redemption is to tell me what’s on your half of the letter. And even that won’t earn my forgiveness. I won’t be merciful.”
“Then we will both die hating each other,” I vow.
My entire body is pain. I need a release. I need to forget.
Langston notices.
“Can’t cry, can you?”
I shake my head slowly.
He smirks. “And you haven’t orgasmed since you came here either?”
I shake my head and look away.
He turns my head back until I’m looking at him.
“At least when I die, I’ll die after coming.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish.”
I growl.
“Now, which will it be? My bed or the closet?”
I roll off of him and stomp all the way to the fucking closet.
I roll over on the hard, cool ground in the closet.
Then I turn the other way.
Back and forth. Tossing and turning.
The floor is uncomfortable, and I don’t have a blanket, but that’s not why I can’t sleep.
I stand up and begin pacing back and forth. I take five steps in one direction, then turn around and return my five steps.
It’s pitch-black, but you would think my eyes would have adjusted to the darkness by now. They haven’t. I still can’t see, and if I miscount or take an extra-large step, I bump into the wall.
The pacing won’t help me sleep, but I hope it will address my flooding urges. I feel my control slipping.
I rub the back of my neck—it’s soaked in sweat, along with my forehead and neck. I’m sweating everywhere.