Buttons and Pain (Buttons 3)

I poured two glasses of scotch and waited for my guest to arrive.

Cane walked in a moment later, wearing dark jeans and a leather jacket. He dropped into the armchair beside me and snatched the drink off the table. He leaned back into the chair, his knees falling open and his back slouching.

I stopped trying to teach him manners a long time ago.

“What the hell have you been doing for the past month?” He blurted out his thoughts like a child.

“You know, the usual.”

“No, I don’t know. You’re most mysterious guy I’ve ever known—and I’m your brother.”

I rested the scotch on my leg, my fingertips feeling the cool glass.

“Do you have a new woman in your life?”

“No.”

“Still hung up on the last one, huh?”

“No.” I was never hung up on anyone.

“Are you sure about that? You seem pretty down.”

“I’m always down.” That was my innate personality. Life passed by without any meaning. I took comfort in wine and solitude.

Cane chuckled in a sarcastic way. “You got it bad. Just admit it.”

“Did you come here for a reason?” Other than to annoy me.

“Why don’t you just talk to her?”

“About what?” I took a drink. “There’s nothing to say.”

“Crow, I don’t understand why you’re being such a cunt about this. If you love the girl, go tell her.”

“I don’t.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t.” I would say it as many times as necessary.

“Then why have you been moping around the house for a month?”

“Again, I always mope around.”

“You wouldn’t let me touch her. But you’ve let me touch your other girls before.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Fuck yeah, it does. I’m just trying to help you.”

“Well, don’t.” It was going to be a bad night so I poured myself another glass. “Can we talk about business now?”

Crow leaned back into the chair and sighed. “Whatever. I did my best to pull your head out of your ass.”

I changed the subject. “When are the shipments going out?”

“Monday.” He moved with the change, finally giving up on his ridiculous theory about my feelings toward Button.

Now we could all move on.

***

Unable to sleep, I left my bedroom and went down into the kitchen. I hardly ever walked inside because the staff prepared all my meals throughout the day. But it was easy to find a glass of water. I stood over the sink while I drank it and looked out the window. It was pitch black outside.

“Your Grace.”

I didn’t hear Lars approach. I was focused on the blackness outside my house. I set the glass down and turned around. “Do you ever sleep, Lars?”

“Not when someone is in my kitchen.” He wore pajamas and slippers. I only saw him wear suits around the house. It was strange to see him so casual. “Is there anything I can get you, Your Grace?”

“No. I’m sorry I woke you.” I turned back to the sink and grabbed the glass.

Lars didn’t move. He stood there with his hands behind his back, watching everything I did.

“Did you need something?” I finished the glass and left it in the sink.

“Can I say something, Your Grace?”

I turned around, provoked by the strange request. “I suppose.”

“If you’re lucky enough to find someone who makes you happy, hold onto them as long as you can. One day you’ll lose them, but keeping them at a distance won’t make it any easier in the end.”

I leaned against the counter with my arms across my chest. I stared him down with a stoic expression, not giving away any of the thoughts circling in my mind. I knew Lars lost his wife and daughter a long time ago. He’d never been the same since, and he stayed busy so the sorrow wouldn’t swallow him whole.

“Good night, Your Grace.” He made a quick bow before he walked out.

I stared at the spot where he’d been standing, thinking about everything he just said. He wasn’t explicit in his words, but he made his point very clear. “Good night, Lars.”

Chapter Five

Pearl

Two months had come and gone.

And I was starting to go crazy.

I missed sex so much. I missed the way Crow would grip me tightly and thrust into me. I missed the way his powerful fingers dug into my hair and claimed me as his own. I missed being suspended from the ceiling while he took me from underneath. I missed his kisses.

I missed everything.

I needed to get laid.

Masturbation wasn’t cutting it anymore. It didn’t feel nearly as good, and after a while it just felt pathetic. Porn didn’t work for me, and I just fantasized about Crow. And that wasn’t helping me move on.

I never allowed myself to think about him. When I was at work, his face would come into my mind but I would quickly brush it off. When I was home I wondered what he was doing, but then I halted those thoughts immediately. The only time I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about him was when I touched myself.