Black Widow by Lauren Runow

Author:Lauren Runow [Runow, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Lauren Runow
Published: 2016-02-22T23:00:00+00:00

My head has been a cluster fuck ever since I watched Eurydice walk out the door after I made love to her this morning. I’d like to say I fucked her but I didn’t. That was something different and fuck me, it felt so good.

Then she just got up and left without another word. I left the club after she did, wanting to get out of there and rid any memories of what just happened. If only it could have been that easy.

As soon as I started my Tesla, Comatose by Skillet blared over my speakers with its violin intro and my chest instantly ached when I heard him talking about how she takes the pain away and waking up to her never felt so real. The entire song sent my head into a spinning frenzy. I don’t want to have these feelings but fuck, I feel like I need her like I need air.

My day sucked worse than it has in years and now I’ve been sitting here at Bridge, waiting for either her or Becca to show up tonight and both of them are a no show.

I tried to call Becca today, just needing to talk to her but she didn’t answer, which is not like her. I’m afraid she’s upset with me, too. I feel like I might have crossed a line. Broke my own no emotions rule with this place and I hope Becca’s not mad at me, too.

That would just blow. She’s been a good friend to me through this journey. She’s helped me achieve my goals of this place and we’ve spent a good amount of time together doing so. I’d like to say she’s my girl best friend, however lame that sounds. I just hope I didn’t fuck that up as well.

It’s midnight and I’m finally giving up. They aren’t showing so I’m out of here.

Once I’m home, I drink myself into a drunken, self-loathing stupor and pass out on my couch.

I’m awoken to someone banging on my door the next morning, yelling, “Police, open up!”

My mind is spinning and with each pound on my door, my heads screams in pain. I stumble to the door, bracing myself against the frame, opening it to see three policemen standing guard.

Instantly I stand up, “Can I help you?”

“Are you Preston Babcock?”

“Yes, that’s me. What’s going on?”

“Will you please turn around and place your hands behind your back? You’re under arrest for the murder of Rebecca Anderson.”

“Wait, WHAT? I’m What? What are you talking about? What happened to Becca? Murder? Is she ok?” No, no. This can’t be happening. Where’s Becca?

“Sir, don’t make us get rough with you. Put your hands behind your back.”

“Rough with me? What’s going on? Why am I being arrested?”

“Sir, don’t resist arrest.”

“What? Will you please explain to me what’s going on?”

“You’re being arrested for the murder of Rebecca Anderson.”

“Murder! I didn’t murder anyone. What’s going on? What happened to Becca?”

Before I know it, I’m thrown on the ground with my arms being pulled from, what feels like, their sockets and handcuffed behind me.

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