21. Blade
BLADE
I’d have been more worried about scaring off my Trinket if we weren’t holding her captive. But if the rain wasn’t enough to keep her inside today, Nash’s watchful eye should do the trick.
Lucky bastard.
I’d have done anything to be locked up with our little prisoner right now. Nowhere for her to run or hide, how fun was that?. But there was work to be done — that lost wallet wasn’t going to find itself.
I coursed through the park, letting the rain soak through my clothes as my eyes searched every dark nook and cranny. The wallet could be anywhere. Trinket had covered quite a bit of ground in her vain attempt to escape us the night we found her.
Laughter bubbled from my chest at the memory of her thrashing, fighting so uselessly for her life. And lava pooled in my gut at the thought of her so desperate and needy when I finally got her to myself.
God, she felt unbelievable — so soft and warm and soaking fucking wet. She could pretend all she wanted, but I knew exactly how badly she wanted me. But all of her need didn’t hold a candle to the inferno she lit inside of me.
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Fuck, I’d been up all night touching myself about it, practically drilling a hold through the mattress as I bucked against my own fingers again and again. Mary, Mary, Mary.
I was desperate for more — and if god was real, I’d get another taste of her on Friday, all scared and pathetic the way I liked her.
But if god were real, I would be inside playing with my little Trinket right now. Not splashing through dirty puddles, searching for the wallet at Cyrus’ request.
If she wants an ID so bad, she could be out here searching with me.
I knew it wasn’t that simple, though. Cyrus had her hands tied with admin. Coordinating shipments, making payments, settling turf disputes: all the boring fucking computer work that made me crazy. This part — hands dirty, covered in grime, full of life — was all mine.
As I kicked aside a toppled barrel, letting it roll noisily down the cobblestone path, the weight of what I was doing settled in my chest. With a negative background check, the possibilities of who our sweet “Mary” could be were wide open.
It could be her.
The one we’d been waiting for. Desire vibrated through every fiber of my being at the thought. I wanted it, had been dreaming of it for nearly a decade.
Those first couple of years, the hope was so palpable. But every passing second away from her had sharpened that glimmer of hope into a shard of glass lodged right in my heart. I pushed off Nash’s prophecies, tired of bleeding from false hope.
But this girl… she was the first faith I’d had in a long time.
Soon enough, I’d retraced her entire path from the first night as well as a buffer around it: nothing. Which meant it was time to search the wilds beyond our kingdom.
Coming up on the fence, I admired the hole that had let our captive in: a portal of sorts. But did it lead to heaven or to hell? My fingers looped into the hard coils of wire, prying them apart wide enough for me to slip out into the woods.
I’ve gotta come fix this later. Don’t want any more stragglers wandering in. Not while we’ve got such a sweet thing to hunt.
Past the fence, the grass and dirt had melted away into wells of mud. My boots sunk deep into the muck, pulling out just before the earth could reclaim me.
The woods were even more vast than the park. There were infinite hiding places to search. I could be out here for days.
But I tilted my head back, taking in a deep breath of the wet earth and foliage, trusting nature to guide me. By the time the air flushed from my lungs, my feet were already moving, following a low, snapped branch to a fallen piece of bark to a smear of blood on a tree that made my lip curl.
The thought of those roaches chasing my precious little Trinket filled my chest with rage. The death we’d given them was too merciful. I wanted to play again, to carve into their skin, to cut off their useless little dicks and feed them to them.
They’re gone now. She’s ours.
My lungs heaved as I tried to calm myself. But the sight of black, peeled plastic at the base of the tree got my heart racing all over again.
Her wallet.
The thing was half-decayed, though I had a feeling it was already falling apart long before nature tried to reclaim it. Dropping to my knees with a splash, I scooped up the peeled pleather and clutched it tight between my fingers as I flipped through the small treasure.
It was mostly empty: a laundromat card, a punchcard for a Perkatory, a few loose coins.
A single debit card was slipped in amongst a plethora of credit cards.
But those were of little interest to me once I saw her face glowering back at me in the gritty black and white print on her driver’s license.
There’s my Trinket.
Vibrating with excitement, I slipped the ID out from its plastic sheath, tracing my fingers over her pouty little face, and then the name that had been burned into my mind for the last decade: Tess Montgomery.
It’s her. Tess. Our Tess.
The ID trembled between my fingers as I slipped it back into the wallet. I bolted for the fenceline, clutching it close like it was a holy artifact.
It was happening: the prophecy was true. I needed to tell Nash and Cyrus.