“So then,” Garrett said loudly over the group of laughing people, “we’ve got him duct taped to the table like a mummy, face down so he can’t see what’s going on with his wrist facing up, and he’s screaming before it even touches the skin. The guy puts the transfer on his wrist and he almost flips the table,” he wheezed, holding his side. “He hears the machine start buzzing and goes…” he broke off, struggling to get the rest of the story out.
But I knew what he said, I’d memorized it when he’d told me the other day, and seeing as how Garrett was in no fit state, I yelled, “That better be a vibrator!”
For the six people who were hearing the story, it was hilarious. Unfortunately, for the other guests who had no idea what was going on, including my parents, not so much. Well, a majority of them did find it funny, but they didn’t understand that it wasn’t me who was hoping for one. I had them at home, but now I wanted the real deal.Chapter ElevenRoseUnsurprisingly, I’d left the party not long after I’d yelled out about vibrators. All the kids had begun asking for their dinner, plus it was an impromptu affair, so it had ended early. With my parents staying at my brother’s to talk about wedding plans and babies, I’d been free to head home, so I had. Which led me to now, tiredly taking my shoes off and then walking toward the shower.
Working in a hospital leaves a certain aroma on you, and it’s a relief to wash it off at the end of each day. I’d managed a quick shower before I’d headed out earlier, but now I wanted a longer one and to wash my hair.
Turning the shower on, I started pulling off my clothes, throwing them in the hamper even though I’d only worn them for a matter of hours. When that was all done, I looked into the mirror, checking to see how much better my face looked from when I’d last seen it. It was going to take a couple more days, but it was getting there, so at least that was something.
As I got into the shower, I could hear my phone ringing in the bedroom but there was no way I was getting back out to answer it, so I just let it ring out. If it was important, they’d call back.
I couldn’t get into boiling hot showers, they made me feel claustrophobic, so I had mine set to the perfect setting. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t scalding, it was a stage in between, and damn it felt good tonight. I even did something I never usually did, and that was to tip my face back into the spray for a long period of time, just letting the day run off me. That might sound like a strange thing to not do normally when you’re in the shower, but here’s the thing – I had an older brother, one who liked to watch scary movies when I was little. In almost every movie that I’d seen, the chick would be home alone, get into the shower, get water and soap in her eyes, and then open her eyes to someone either in the bathroom with her or standing in front of her with a knife. You can guess how it ended for the chick, right? Uh huh, knife in gut repeatedly. So, I never put myself in that position, just in case. That’s also why I jerked my head out from under the water just then and quickly wiped my eyes to take a look around, before reaching for the sponge and body wash.
Eighteen months ago, I’d had three dermal piercings in my cleavage by a friend of my brother’s. It had been a birthday present to myself and I absolutely loved them. I didn’t show them to the world, in fact few people knew I had them, but I’d had them put there for me so that was the point. This meant, though, that I had to be careful when I showered so that I didn’t yank them or get them stuck in the sponge. Trust me, you only make that mistake a couple of times and you learn. So that’s what I did tonight, careful washing around them and making sure they were clean but not touching them.
“I wondered what they were,” a deep voice rasped in front of me, scaring the ever-loving shit out of me.
Just as I opened my mouth to scream thinking that I was the chick in the movie who was about to be stabbed, I looked up at my attacker just in case I survived the stabbing, and the police asked who it was who’d done it. It wasn’t a guy in a weird mask, a guy with a knife or a machete, or anything like that – it was Raoul.