Page 14 of Sing Me a Song
"That includes your body, the skin wrapped around it, and the blood pumping through it. All. Fucking. Mine." His fingers tighten and my eyes widen when I can no longer suck in air. "Do I need to carve into this face to make my point?"
I shake my head again and he removes his hand. I clutch at my throat while gasping for air and he chuckles.
"I'll see you soon." He says as he pulls his hood back up and follows the rest of his group through the exit doors.
My insides quake with uncertainty but my pussy is soaking with anticipation.
Chapter Seven
Tempest
The ceiling is spinning as I squint my eyes and try to focus on one spot. As soon as I came home, I grabbed the bottle of vodka and guzzled almost half in one shot. I'll see you soon. As ominous as it sounds, I can't help but wonder how long is soon, and will it involve more of what happened in that alley-minus the skin carving.
Speaking of, after my shower I stood there and stared at the laceration. It looks like a lightning bolt or three sevens from top to bottom. I'll be lucky if it doesn't scar because the cuts are deep. I roll over and groan when the room rolls with me, maybe a glass of water is needed.
I get up and stumble my way into the kitchen area, hitting a few objects on the way. I pull open the small fridge, grab a bottle of water, and something catches my eye by the one and only window in this shithole. It’s raining heavily but I swear I can make out a figure standing about a yard away by the tree.
I rush to the window in my drunken stupor, almost hitting the glass, and pull the curtains closed. Did I actually see someone or was I imagining it? After the past few days dealing with Deluge and all the secrecy bullshit behind them, I can see why I would be imagining shit. That and vodka make for a terrible combo.
I stagger back to my bed and fall face first into the pillows.
My mouth feels like I ate a pot of dirt and dipped it in a pile of shit. My head is pounding and my bladder is protesting. Fuck me and my impulsive decisions to drown in bottles of whatever I can find.
I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom, I need to wash the stench of alcohol off me. I need to speak to Sky today and ask her why the fuck she didn’t tell me she was chosen, too. She is obviously trying to avoid these guys but it doesn’t look like they’re going to let her and I can only imagine how fucking scared she is.
I get myself ready for work and step out of my apartment, lock the door, and jog down the narrow stairs that lead to the parking lot. The sun has long ago set and the lights for the lot are mostly out, so I don't see the black limo until it’s too late.
“Miss Verona. I will be taking you to your destination.” A tall man in a chauffeur’s suit says as he opens the door.
“Like fuck you will, old man-”
“Temp, get in here.” Sky’s voice cuts me off and I bend to look inside the limo.
She’s sitting in the far corner with a pair of shades on her face and an oversized hoodie on her slight frame. I do as she says and slide in beside her.
“What the fuck is this?” I watch as she opens the mini fridge and pulls out a champagne bottle. I gag a little because of my hangover but my hand still reaches for the bottle.
“We’re being taken to them.” She mutters.
“Excuse you?” I ask as I tip back the bottle.
“Deluge, this is their limo.” She rests her head against the seat.
“How the fuck you not gonna tell me you were chosen?” I snarl at her.
“I was chosen last year, too.” She moans and turns her head to the window. “I worked at a different club, they came by, and I ended up with a knife stuck into my vanity.”
I continue to gulp back the champagne, waiting for her to continue.
“I ran out. I heard things, Temp. I read things and fuck, I watched videos. They do crazy shit on stage and they are known Illuminati members, it really fucking freaks me out. What’s up with all this choosing shit? Ya know?”
“True.” I nod. It is all fucking strange.
“I laid low for a bit then found this job here at The Temple.” She huffs. “But now they’re here.”
“Did Hail choose you last time, too?” I ask her.
“Yeah.” She mutters and grabs the bottle back. "This time his knife was stuck into my mother's front door."