CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
RAZOR
“What’s up?” I ask Duse.
Carrying the door past her just fucking staring at me in the kitchen, I get into the hallway and turn the corner to Bunny’s room with her eyes beaming into the back of my damn head.
“I need to tell you something,” Duse says right behind me.
“Okay?” Setting the door down against Bunny’s closet, I quickly scan the room, wondering if I should just go ahead and move in here or if I should be normal and talk to Bunny about that first.
I honestly just wanna do it. What’s she gonna do? Make me sleep across the room? Oh, no. Fuck, I’d hate that. I’d hate getting to prop myself up and watch her sleep.
Why is Duse staring at me?
Oh, shit, Duse. Right, she needed something.
She folds her arms up, sending a few braids back over her shoulder with a fierce whip of her head. “Bunny’s getting too curious, Raze. She seems mentally sound enough to start easing little things in.”
What the fuck?
“Why’re you saying this? What’d she do?”
Her chest stretches up with a heavy inhale, and she loads her hands into her back pockets. “She was in Hatchet’s tent. I caught her just in time before she ended up in the back with him, where your worst nightmare would’ve come true.”
Ire paralyzes me, my barbed eyes locking on hers and the thump of my heart coming up my throat. “The fuck you mean she was in his tent?”
“Exactly what I said,” she bites out, her forehead tightening.
She leans her weight onto one leg, looking away and throwing her hands up—like she’s embarrassed.
“I don’t think she’d even try to go back.
I made it seem like he’s some psycho killer.
God, Razor! I’m tired of this! Bunny doesn’t deserve it, and you know that!
” Throwing her hands around with her attitude, she finishes with a harsh finger my way.
“Where is she right now?” I ask sedately.
Tent. Tent. You told her about the tent. You said it was on the south end. You basically lit it up with a flashing arrow. She fucking knows. She went in there. She’s back there. She went back. She’s alone with him.
I don’t hear Duse. My own voice is oozing from my dripping mind, the numbness I’m becoming infected with diluting my consciousness of punching ass out of the room and through the front door.
You just had to say something. Bunny’s smart. Too smart. She picks up on the little shit now, you fucking idiot.
A growl separates my voice, enhancing the blur surrounding me. The fog tilts, pulsing in and out to the sickening beat crawling out of my chest, having to rely on second nature to carry me through the trail and out into the warped chatter echoing around the park.
Is it too late to tie her down? I could keep her in the room. I’d bring her food, take her to the bathroom, play board games with her, maybe steal the TV from the living room to keep her entertained with movies.
No. That’s not right. I couldn’t do that. No. No. Fuck.
Should I?
“Check the tent.”
“Head.”
“She has pretty eyes.”
Oh, fuck, I can’t fucking breathe and they’re coming back.
My skin is melting off my face and ears are two goddamn seconds away from blasting off my head.
Almost striding past Bunny’s tent, the gravitational pull to check inside first before running all the way to the other end drifts me into a pivot, crushing pavement toward her red velvet.
I get close, then heavy footsteps are stomping up to my side, shifting my attention over to where I shouldn’t even have to fucking give it right now.
Fucking Christ, I have shit to do, and here this guy is panting his hot ass breath into my face and pinching sweat from his nose.
“Hey, Razor, right?” he asks breathlessly.
My upper lip curls, getting my feet in a slow motion to where I need to be heading. “What’s up?”
He huffs, speckling the air with his DNA and wiping at his soggy hair. “You know when Carl’s getting back? We need our checks, man.”
“Nah,” I shake my head, splitting my focus to her tent. “I’ll figure it out and let you know.”
I walk off, keeping the dripping dick at my back.
“I’ll just get his number from his office!” he hollers, as if I’m not two fucking feet from him.
“The feast will eat.”
Panic punches me into a one-eighty, taking steps backward with my seriousness piercing him across the way. “Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something? Fuck off! I’ll call him, dude!”
Obviously not doing that. The old fuck’s stinkin’ up a storm in a fish tank. Which reminds me I need to find time to do something about that. Can’t really remain poetic with nosy people roaming around.
I just barely catch the dude’s dumbfounded expression. I’m shifting around and thrashing her curtains out of my way, ducking and rushing inside, immediately spotting the only visual that can drown the voices and sink my rigid weight through my heels.
She’s humming. It’s quiet, but I haven’t heard her enchant my mind with an eerie song since…
Leaving the sun outside, the dark, cylindrical walls carry the orchestra vibrating her throat. I step closer to her stage, mesmerized with the tight binds of black silk suspending her relaxed body several feet in the air.
She’s elegant, soft, moving fluidly with calculation that makes it look easy.
Still humming and in her zone, she spins my way, casting a toned arm out, her hair swirling like water—anesthetizing my lungs and siphoning all oxygen.
The photo outside doesn’t do her justice. Her features are strong with femininity, like she’s the targeted visual for the macabre bride I’ve seen in a claymation.
I blink, faintly shaking my head, and slip my phone from my pocket, pulling up the camera as I get closer to her. The shot’s probably shaky and grainy. Really, I don’t know if I even have her in frame. She’s too hypnotic in her element to break away from.
She twirls gracefully, spinning in her silk like a black widow teasing me with something so beautiful, but so dangerous.
As I’m stopping near her stage, she’s opening her eyes. Instantly targeting me, her sweet hum falls off, and she rolls forward in her silks, planting her bare feet on the ground and gaping at me.
“H-hi,” she stutters.
“Hi, baby.”
Locating the phone in my hand, she tensely unwinds herself, her lips twitching and twisting with the overload of thoughts she’s keeping in her mind. “How long have you been there?”
“A minute or two. You’re entrancing.”
“Are you recording me?”
“I think so.” Checking the shitty screen, I turn my wrist to get her perfectly centered. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re my favorite thing to look at. And I wanna see you on big screens.”
But those big screens would have to be my own.
“Movies?” she quirks a brow, a rasp of a laugh feeding me her smile.
“Movies,” I echo.
Smiling harder, she swirls one side of her silk like a ribbon, contently watching the buttery fabric move fluidly in a cyclone.
I love seeing her happy. Even if it’s fleeting.
She deserves a reverie.
Time moves slowly as I marvel at her. She ends up catching me staring, doing her best at hiding her flushing cheeks with a bite at her nails.
“Are you still recording me?” She steps forward, hanging onto one side of her silks to do a suspended lean my way.
“Mm-hmm,” I nod.
Interest tips her head, her eyes stitching to my phone. “What else do you have on that?”
“Wanna see?” I stretch it her way.
She considers it, her fingers faintly twitching like she’s working up the courage to grab it. “No, it’s okay.” Settling on my face, she gives me a medicated grin.
“I’m not hiding anything from you, Bunny.” Bracing my free hand to her stage, I lunge my weight up, walking toward her with my offer still standing.
Her lips tense and twist, biting the inside of her cheek.
“What?” My brows furrow.
“How could you say that?”
Fuck.
Warmth crowds my throat, wagging my phone at her. “I’m not hiding anything on my phone, Bunny. Swear.”
“Yeah, your phone maybe.” Planting both feet between her silks, extra glass sparkles in her eyes, warning me of the tears I unintentionally knocked through her heart. “All of you are keeping things from me, Razor. And what makes it hurt the most is not knowing why.”
Guilt tangles my veins, my brain pulsing and zapping, kicking in a dose of panic. I stop recording and shove my phone in my pocket, offering my hand out to her. “Let’s go get somethin’ to eat.”
“No,” she lightly shakes her head, her lips trembling. “I’m not hungry.”
“Do you wanna catch some rides? Maybe fuck around in the arcade before you need to-”
“No, Razor.”
Her cutting me off and walking away from me wraps my ribs with dread, my heart ticking faster and faster the farther she gets from me. “Please, don’t be like that, little bunny.”
I manage one step before she’s turning her teary eyes over her shoulder and taking the stairs toward her dressing room.
“I’ll see you later,” she wavers.
I didn’t mean to hurt her. I never have.
I’m trying to protect her.