“You want to be in control.”
“I do.” I realize as I say it that it paints the wrong picture. “What’s difficult for some people to understand is that the person on the bottom really has all the power.”
“How is that?”
Our conversation and concentration are interrupted by another loud crack of thunder and a crash. I’m not sure if it’s from another window or a bookcase, but it was definitely something big. I stand and go to the railing with Kas right behind me. Though there isn’t much light, there is enough to see that the whole bottom floor is completely flooded with at least six feet of water, possibly more, and several bookshelves are toppled over. Two of the massive windows are broken for sure, but I can’t see the others very well due to the lack of light and the bookshelves blocking the view. The ceiling is open to the second level and must be at least twenty feet high. It will take a lot more water to reach the upper level.
I see sparks fly out below us, leaving no doubt that the water flooding the first level of the library is dangerously electrified. We won’t be escaping this any time soon.
“We’re still fine up here,” I say.
“Yeah, maybe. That’s a lot of water, though, and the sparks…”
“We won’t be able to go down there until someone comes and helps us.”
“No one is coming until the storm stops,” Kas says. “I remember seeing news broadcasts about major floods, and it always takes time to reach everyone who’s trapped.”
“We’ll be fine here.” I look around, wondering where we should set up camp for the night. “Let’s find ourselves the safest, most comfortable spot, okay? We might be here a while, and I’d rather be comfortable.”
“There should be some towels in the bathroom,” Kas says. “We could put them on the floor to sit on.”
“There’s a bathroom up here?”
“Through the door, down the hall,” Kas says, pointing. “It’s tiny but functional.”
I follow her to the small, half bath. Though I haven’t felt the urge yet, having plumbing will be a major bonus if we’re stuck here for a while. Kas opens up a thin cabinet door and pulls out a stack of hand towels.
“They aren’t big, but we can lay them end to end.”
“It’s a plan.”
Chapter 4—Kas
Towels don’t make the very best seats, but they’re better than sitting on the bare floor. We pick out a spot near the back wall under one of the white emergency lights. It’s not bright, but at least it’s enough to see each other and a bit of our surroundings. To the right I can see the stained-glass window with the Eden scene. At the very bottom is a slender rectangle of clear glass that looks like it might have been added later in the chapel’s history, but it’s too dark outside to see anything through it.
I don’t want to look anyway.
Cree and I sit with our backs to the wall, legs stretched straight out. We’re close, but not close enough to touch. Cree places his backpack full of rope on the other side of him, out of my sight. I stare toward the railing, trying to ignore the sound of water sloshing around below, and try to process what Cree has been telling me.
My crush is a sexual deviant. He ties people up for fun and even carries his rope around with him just in case someone stops him on the street and asks to be tied up.
I’m not sure I really get it.
Coming from a family that doesn’t talk about sex of any kind, I really don’t know what to think. My initial reaction was abhorrence at the very idea, but when Cree began to explain, it really didn’t seem all that awful—weird, but not awful.
He keeps telling me it’s not all about sex, but every time he opens his mouth to give me another tidbit of information, thoughts of him wrapping rope around my body flood my brain, and my thighs clench.
It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve thought about being with Credence, but my previous fantasies have always been centered on the usual, boring, missionary type. Something this extreme has never crossed my mind before. Now it’s crossing my mind in the same way a song gets stuck in someone’s head—relentlessly.
“So, what’s life been like for you since leaving high school?” he asks, and I quickly end my line of thinking.
“Um…different, certainly.” I run my fingers through my hair nervously. “I took a year off between high school and freshman year to figure out just what I wanted to do. I guess I needed it, but now I feel like I’m going to be in school for the rest of my life.”
“What are you studying?”
“I’m a biology major,” I say. “Pre-med.”
“Really? That’s awesome! What sort of medicine?”