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February 5 - February 16, 2025
“That was you in your natural element. This is … definitely not that.”
“You listen to me. You’re amazing, Sloane Sutherland. You are brilliant, and so brave, and loyal to the ends of the earth. You set your mind to something and you fucking get it done. You work hard. You’re funny. You make me laugh when I don’t think I can. Not to mention, you’re smoking hot. Gorgeous face. Gold-star tits.”
“I know you’re scared, but you deserve to be happy. So put some of that bravery to use for yourself for a change. Rowan would be lucky as all hell to have you.”
“I know what you’re thinking, sweetie,” she says. “It’s written all over your face. But you are not unlovable, Sloane. Because I love you. And he might too, if you give him the chance. He did say that sweet stuff about you to the cannibal guy, right?”
“Rowan could have asked someone else to accompany him if he wanted to. He asked you.”
“You’re the only person I can have real fun with,”
“Come on. Car’s waiting. We’re going to have a fun night, Blackbird. Guaranteed.”
“I’m not taking the most beautiful girl of the night to the social event of the year in a fucking Honda Accord.”
“Liar. The car has literally been telling you Change my fucking oil, you heathen for the last three weeks.”
“And I guarantee that you could wear a potato sack and still be the most beautiful woman here. The dress is stunning, Blackbird. Perfectly you.”
“And he’s a serial killer. He’s killed at least six of his patients over his fifteen years in Boston. Maybe more when he was living in Florida. And we can take him out together. Tonight.”
“I can’t lose you.” “Then you’d better kiss me,” I whisper back.
“Getting revenge for hurting my girl, of course.”
“You’ve been a terribly bad boy, Harvey,”
“Good boys don’t chop people up with chainsaws.”
“I think you deserve to be punished.”
“Hold on, son. I just want to crawl inside and have a look around.”
“You literally scared him to death. You should be proud.”
“On the road,” I say, his words finally surfacing from the haze of adrenaline. “On the road to where?” “Nebraska. To see Dr. Fionn Kane,” he says. “My brother.”
“Don’t you Blackbird me. That can-can motherfucker stamped my fucking forehead. I can even see the Carhartt logo on it,”
“See? Right there. Carhartt. Why couldn’t he have just punched me in the face like a normal person?” “Probably because he wasn’t a normal person, love. I thought the chainsaw was a big clue.”
“You look like one of the bally broads kicked you in the face in clown alley,”
“Help me, Man-guy.”
“Maybe I’m Fionn’s Girl-chick, Mr. Man-guy Flick-a-shit.”
“Because I’d bend you over my knee and spank that perfect ass of yours until it glows. And then do you wanna know what I’d do?”
“I’d teach you a lesson about wanting. About wanting to come so badly you have to beg for it.”
“And once I was sure you’d learned that lesson, I’d teach you about wanting to stop coming so badly you beg for that too.”
“You’re trembling, little bird.”
“Yeah, ‘Man-guy’ didn’t sound real solid either. No offense.”
“How long have you been”—her eyes slice up from the cards and roam over me—“pining …?”
“Fionn has the primary bedroom. I have the first guest bedroom. That means you, my friend, get to share a bed with your Girl-chick over there.”
“It should be strong. But built on an unstable foundation, it just takes one lightning strike to bring it down. Chaos. Change. Pain. And when your world crumbles around you, the truth is revealed.”
“I have an eggplant face. That’s basically a dick face. A mushy dick face with a Carhartt logo.”
“That color doesn’t remind me of eggplant, for what it’s worth. It reminds me of blackberries. The best berry, if you ask me. It reminds me of irises. They have the best scent of any flower. It reminds me of night, just before dawn. The best time of day.”
“You’re all the best things to me, Sloane. No matter how many bruises are in your heart or on your skin.”
“Something caught your eye, pretty boy?” I whisper. “Yes,” he says, his voice pained. “God, yes, Sloane. All of you.”
“Come on. Into the bath before I fucking die.”
“I always have the energy for that. Your suffering is my number one priority.”
“What is it? Rowan …?” “I’ve been suffering for four years, Sloane. I’m begging you here. Get in the fucking bath.”
“That was yesterday. That means we’re in year four now. And it feels like eighty.”
“You … you remember that?”
“If I touch you again …” He shakes his head. “It took everything in me just to get you undressed without bending you over at the bathroom counter and fucking you until you beg me to stop.”
“I need to look after you. It’s my fault you’re like this. The game was my dumbass idea.”
“You are the thing I most look forward to, Rowan.”
“I was scared when we started, afraid that I was making a huge mistake. But finding someone who could understand me for all the shattered pieces beneath the mask? I needed that. Before you came along, something was missing. You, Rowan. You were missing. You made it safe to feel seen. Safe to play on our terms. Safe to have fun, even though our fun might not be everyone’s idea of a good time.”
His fingers find my clit and the triangle piercing there and I bite down on my bottom lip at the burst of sensation. He then moves down to the symmetrical outer labia piercings where the bars on each side are capped with small titanium balls. By the time he reaches the fourchette piercing, he’s nearly vibrating with tension.
“But I’m no fucking angel, Sloane.”
“You heard me. Get up on that bed and spread your legs and show me.” “I’ll make it wet—
“I’m done running around this, Sloane. I’ve wanted you for four years. And you’re going to show me what I’ve been missing.”
“Wider, Sloane. Stop trying to hide from me, because I promise you now, it’s not going to work.”
