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Madness is an insidious disease. We do not see the danger until it is too late. It creeps into the cracks and crevices of the mind and makes itself at home, like carpenter ants in the framing of a home. We do not know the floor has rotted away until one ill-timed step destroys the façade of normalcy.
“Don’t call me names, you overdressed crimson pimp. I’m well past my limit, and I’m done taking shit from somebody who looks like they fell out of the bargain bin at a Halloween outlet.”
“Would it help if I said I’d like to do dark and sinful sexual acts to you, as well?”
“You need to understand your cage before you can try to pick the lock.”
She was wonderfully sarcastic when she wasn’t weeping in a pile on the floor.
She shivered. “Don’t push your luck.” “I’m afraid that’s all I ever do.” He hummed.
“I wasn’t aware you wanted to be friends.” “Well, I’d prefer to be passionate lovers, but after last night, I think we should start over at the beginning.”
He blanched comically and made a noise as if he were going to throw up. “I would rather sit on a fence post. I think it’d be a better lover.”
“Are you trying to sleep with me because I have a piece of you and it feeds your clear narcissistic streak, or because you can’t stand the idea that one of them might touch something that you feel you own?” “Perhaps I’m merely attracted to you, or I find you enticing.” She raised an eyebrow at him and waited. “It’s both.” He pushed his glasses up his nose with the press of a ring finger. “Both things I said, or both things you said?” Talking with him was like playing tennis. It was a game and a competition. “I’ll let you decide.”
He was standing there and popping every balloon she had, just as she finished puffing each one up. She felt small again. She felt powerless. She hated it.
She couldn’t decide if he was harmless or dangerous. He’s both. Which is impossible. But here he is, and that’s the problem.
“I’d tell you to go fuck yourself again, but as I have part of your ‘seity,’ I suppose that’s exactly what you’re trying to do. Knock it off.”
“I think I might like you a little, Cora. I certainly want you. But I did not expect to enjoy you.”
Instead, he was the one compelled. He was the one on strings.
I heard Simon has taken a shine to you. That bastard takes a shine to nobody. My condolences.”
She felt his forehead rest against her. “I’m proud of you, cupcake. Standing up to me like that…If they see you unafraid to face me down, no one will mess with you. I’m not upset. Dress me down all you want in public, because someday soon you’ll let me dress you down in private.” He placed a kiss against her cheek, just by her ear. Slow and sensual.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, though, Cora dear…nobody touches you but me. You can tell me no as many times as you want, every time I ask between now and when the sun burns out. But there’s a part of me there inside you. And if they defile you, they defile me, and we can’t have that.”
“I dislike you immensely.”
“Your home was beautiful.” “It was. I never really thought so at the time. But things don’t look exciting when they’ve always been there. When you grew up with them.
she knew from experience that the happiest looking person could have a deep river of sadness in them. Hiding depression was a skill that was practiced and sharpened like a knife. Some people were damn good at it.
“Don’t worry, it’s just straight and unadulterated narcissism. I have a piece of him. I think he’s desperate to know what it’s like to fuck himself and not be gay about it.”
On a surface level, he was beautiful. Sharp cheekbones, unruly dark hair, and he was all angled lines and smooth surfaces. His smile was as dangerous as it was wicked. He’d be one hell of an adventure in bed; she knew that much. And holy shit, he knew how to kiss. She crammed those thoughts back into the sewer they crawled out of. He was a sicko. A killer, and a manipulative bastard.
There was something twistedly alluring and seductive about Simon. Something that pulled her toward him, and it wasn’t his strings.
“I hate it when you’re right.” “That explains why you dislike me so much.”
He tore you apart, and I will be the one to put the porcelain pieces back together. Only me, and no one else. I’m so very good at gluing shards of broken things together. Trust me…I’ve done it to myself plenty of times.”
