CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
BUNNY
Why does everyone walk on glass around me? What have I done? Why am I shoved away from things that might be difficult? What actually happened? Was it my fault?
“Come on, think, Bunny,” I whisper to my reflection, the amber bulbs humming additional warmth.
I try to dig, try to search through the dark soil and worms blocking me from reaching too deep in my mind, but the longer I look at myself, the more I become aware of backing down from Razor earlier.
Embarrassment chews through my cheeks, looking away from the aftermath of performing on a hot night, tucking my face away into my shaking hands. My stomach tenses, rolling and growling, interrupting how stupid I feel.
“I hate you,” I cry quietly against my palms.
I think I’m just hungry. And tired. And confused.
And mad. And burnt out. And… I don’t know.
I guess I could add sad to that list because this sucks.
I hate that my brain immediately redacts the things that trouble me when he’s around.
I wish I could square my shoulders and ask what the fuck is going on like I did with Duse.
Maybe I’ve done something so horrible my body has become its own safe house. Maybe I’m the one protecting myself from something.
My eyes sink, laggardly moving from the stool and slipping my boots on. He’s patiently waiting on the other side of the curtains, and I know the moment I see him again I’m gonna melt like a popsicle.
Realization punches a gasp to the back of my throat, absently reaching halfway down to my raised foot and yanking up the zipper of my boot.
He fucked me with a popsicle.
I, um, I’m apparently just now registering that.
A popsicle. And his cock. They’ve both been inside me…
Here I go. Ignoring rational concern for the addictive drip raining down my spine, the hedonism thrumming through my core.
Annoyed, I impulsively smack my vagina through my shorts, jolting briefly from the quick flare of pain. I need a chastity belt or something. This is absolute insanity and unrealistic for the average person.
So, why am I different? What’s really wrong with my brain?
A lot. Too much.
I whine silently, wiping the mist on my face and heading for the curtains. Waiting for me, Razor smiles, stretching the drawn-on teeth around his pearly charm.
My stomach is tilting and influencing a grin, but the draining despondence is heavy, making my shuffle past him awkward and tense.
Good job not jumping his bones. But you’re making it obvious something’s wrong.
“You okay?” he asks, hastily locking his fingers with mine, casting his furrowed brows and analytical eyes down at me.
“Yeah,” I nod. “I’m just hungry. And tired.”
Walking out into the bustling bodies and shrills woven through dings and music, Gwen, Duse, Aries, and Cash are laughing and chatting while approaching us.
I don’t want to lose this either. But I’ve already fractured it by kissing Ora. She hasn’t said a word since she snapped on Razor and me this morning. She usually pops in before reading palms and shuffling tarot decks. But she didn’t today.
I guess all threads fall apart eventually.
Razor loops an arm around my waist, quickly dropping down and hooking his other underneath my legs, lifting me up into a cradle. My stomach drops, cracking a big smile that lets out the laugh bubbling up my chest.
“Sheee’s myyy bunny pie!” Razor sings loudly.
“Oh, no,” I groan, hiding my amusement on his chest.
“Cool drink of water such a sweet surprise!” Skipping and bopping me around, he spins, holding me tight against him and singing over the squeals getting squished out of me.
Then, everyone else chimes in.
The embarrassment increases tenfold, getting serenaded by a group of different pitches that are surrounding me, their volume exceeding the loudness that consumes Vore, until the choppy, out of sync song is pressed against the trees.
I don’t know when Xene joined. I’m still hiding against Razor’s vibrating chest. But his guitar solo is finishing off the song, the bullets of air and whining trill resounding through the barrens we live in.
“Everyone was askin’ ‘bout you, Bunny!” Cash hollers over Xene, peeling my attention from safety with a gentle touch on my arm.
I fake a grin, making awkward eye contact with Ora before looking away into the front porch light to evade what I know is coming next.
“Why didn’t you wanna ride with us?” Cash tacks on, the impending question dropping my heart. “They love seeing you in there.”
Razor strokes the side of my thigh, carrying me across the withered grass. “I’m… I’m not sure I wanna do that again. It was a lot.” I explain.
The spears of buzzing light broadcast his understanding nod, and even though he’s giving me a grin, I can tell it’s a performance. Dejection dulls his eyes and he’s quickly throwing an arm around Aries, walking out in front of us to hike up the porch steps with her.
Xene rips open the screen door, still rocking out to the riff he’s twisting the doorknob with. “Who wants to get drunk and go to Waffle House?!” He turns around, blocking everyone from the door and bumping his brows. “Eh? Eh? On me, ladies?”
That sounds like hell.
All the cheers and agreements, even from Razor, have me looking up at him with a frown, telepathically asking if I can stay home.
“What, baby? You need to eat.” Entering the house, he heads straight for the hallway.
“We have food here,” I mumble.
He turns sideways to fit through the bathroom door with me, easily adjusting me into one arm to pull the chain on the lamp above the toilet.
The shelf creaks from his tug, the warm light spreading over the raise of his brows beneath the makeup.
“Like what? Saltines and cups of mac and cheese? Oh, yummy. What a bountiful feast. No, you need actual food.”
Setting me down on the counter, he smacks the door closed and starts unzipping his pants.
My eyes widen. “Uh…” Following his casual movement to the toilet, I purse my lips, wondering how he’s already comfortably pulling his dick out to use the bathroom in front of me.
Curious about what it’s like for a man, I catch myself waiting in suspense. I try to act nonchalant by rolling my shoulders straight with my neck, but he’s tilting his head my way, wearing a taunting smirk that exposes me.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want this?” he hums.
Appalment scrunches my face, snapping away and finding a chunk of ripped wallpaper to focus on. “That’s gross.”
“Don’t get shy now, little bunny. You can watch.”
“I’m fine,” I respond stiffly, my vision tunneling on the cream paint hidden underneath the brown stripes and blue floral. “I’m gonna… go change while you…” My mouth tenses, jumping down from the counter and beelining for the door.
I’m out before he can say anything. But I can hear his rusty laugh through the wood, like the intention all along was to mess with me and get me flustered.
Gunning it into my room, the mental note of the lamp already being on and the box fan rumbling in the window drifts to the back of my mind, ripping each zipper down and kicking my boots off in the middle of the floor.
Rushing to sit on my bed, I bring my legs up into a crisscross, and the jarring latch of the door closing shoots a puncture of panic up my torso.
Ora folds her arms, sinking her weight to one leg and staring at me. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird since…” she rolls her eyes back toward the wall separating us from the bathroom, bumping her shoulders with a defeated huff.
Her insinuating Razor is making me act out of character tightens my face. “Me? How have I been weird? You snapped on me… I-I thought you were excited about, you know… Razor and me.”
Feeling like I just made this worse and said something cringey, the shakes of hunger invade the weightlessness circulating my head, glumly slumping over my lap.
She steps closer, sharpening her eyes. “That was before he was bruising the shit out of you and waking me up with threats.”
“Threats? What do you mean?”
Aggravation rumbles in her throat and she casts a glance back at the door, dropping her arms and ripping her oversized leather jacket off.
“He’s not right in the head. I don’t think you are either for thinking that-” jabbing a finger my way, she swirls it toward my neck “-is fucking healthy. That’s weird.
That’s psychotic. I don’t give a fuck what kinky shit you’re into but letting him do that when that’s exactly what got us in this fucked position in the first place is insane! ”
My eyes water, wanting to curl in and say she’s right, just for the sake of not having to argue.
But there’s a little voice in my head telling me to poke harder.
She’s so close to breaking and giving me an answer to a question I can’t even formulate because I don’t know what the hell is happening here.
“And what position is that?” I ask.
Launching her jacket to the closet, she whips her fury to me, breathing harder, like the gate is opening up to a playground that’s going to exhaust me. “You ran into Razor’s arms when Damien did that to you. But now you’re letting him. Get back on your medication. Both of you.”
Damien? Medication?
I’ve never been on medication, and I don’t remember a Damien.
Damien.
“Try and remember it for me. You did used to yell it.”
No… That’s not… I mean, is he haunting me? Why? How? What happened?
Here I go again. Questions, questions, questions.
Courage pops in my heart, lunging out of bed and twisting around to fit my feet in my shoes. “Can you help me?”
“That depends…” Watching me yank the zippers back up on my boots, she adds, “With what?”
Straightening my back, my arms tingle, swallowing additional warmth from the rush swirling behind my eyes. “Stall. Don’t let anyone come after me.”
Her brows dip. “Where are you going?”
Not responding, I move around her and head for the door.
“Bunny, no. I’m coming with you.”
Getting my hand on the knob, I turn my pleading eyes back over my shoulder to her. “No, I really need you here.”