A Taste Of Truth: Lies And Truths Trilogy Book 2 by Charlotte E Hart

Author:Charlotte E Hart [Hart, Charlotte E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Malachi

I ’ll wait now.

I’ll wait until she finds me.

Women pass me by, all of them showing me their capabilities in this kind of room. Naked women. Striped up women. Couples, throuples. None of them are of any interest to me, and I need my Alice to find me, to hunt me down and feel those pills swirling around inside her. I want that – need it. No separation anymore. Just her and me. Me and her. Clarity will find itself then. No noise around us. No others to interfere or irritate. My bitch of a wife included.

A bottle of vodka idles in my hand, as I stay sat on this throne of mine in the play pit. Men are fucking beneath me on the floor, some beating each other for the sheer delight of doing so. I watch the door the entire time, wondering how she feels out there all alone and capricious in nature. Maybe she’ll kill someone with her little knife, slice them open and gut them like the pigs they are.

More vodka swallowed and I close my eyes to the sights around me, imagining her instead. Red face now, a devils mask in place. Nice dress – black, skin tight leather and below the knee. Elegant. One of little Hannah’s dresses. Not that she wore it, nor could she ever own it like Alice is doing. There’s a perfect fucking body inside it now. She moves like a goddess, dances to our song. I’d like that new song to resonate forever to counter the fucking waltz that haunts me. I should finish the piece. Let it build around these walls to let them all know that I am caught somehow. Owned.

For a time, anyway.

Someone touches me. I grab the hand and throw it away. It’s not my Alice. Too light in touch. Too insipid. And I can't smell her yet, can’t feel her near me either. She’s still in my thoughts, still out there somewhere – hunting me. Damn Gray and his fucking moralistic view of my bloodstream. I miss the intensity we had because of the pills – the draw and pull that kept us connected. I’m almost barren of it now because of him, but she won’t be. She’ll be as primal as I want her to be – as instinctual. She’ll hunt and chase and ward off any who would try to dissuade her quest.

Time passes as aimlessly as it usually does here, and I eventually use it’s emptiness to peruse more sordid capabilities. I walk the edges of the room impatiently, irrefutably pissed that she hasn’t found me yet. It bolsters my own sense of irritability, making me rage filled at the prospect of her elsewhere.

I duck through the tunnels, smiling at the imagery of her with her little knife. I dare anyone to try playing with her down here. She’ll kill, or at least maim. Amusing. Others have already died here. They’ve either killed themselves or been ended because of the pills strange reactivity inside wayward thoughts.

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