“So you have no idea what I did last night either?” My head slumps against the wall again because it’s too heavy to hold up. What did I do from the hours of midnight to seven?
I wouldn’t trust him if I where you, Lily whispers.
“I know you kept saying that the only way you’d let me observe you was for me to be drunk and it made it really, really hard to decline.” He contemplates something. “You know, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you wanted to get me drunk on purpose, just so I couldn’t observe you with a clear head.”
“Why would I do that?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“Well, I’d say I have no idea,” he replies, staring at the floor with wariness before sitting down on the stained tile, his hands balanced at his sides so he doesn’t touch anything. “But from the little that I saw last night, you have a way with getting people to do what you want.” He glances up at me, his expression unreadable. “You know, you’re kind of a manipulative person.”
“I am not,” I lie, raising my head up and straining the best smile I can muster. “I’m a total angel. Ask anyone.” I’m trying to be sarcastic, but there’s a strain in my voice that matches the ache in my body. I’m not okay.
No you’re not. Especially near him.
River props his arm on his knee and itches at his tattooed arms so roughly he leaves streaks of red. “Maddie, I’ve known you for almost two months now and you’re not the angel part of this bar.”
He reaches for my hair and with hesitancy and tucks a strand behind my ear, a gesture very unlike him and one very unlike me to kindly receive. I lean back and he jerks away, almost as if I’m on fire. Silence encompasses us as I watch his nails tear apart his flesh with his fingernails and it makes me want to scratch the hell out of myself and see what’s hiding underneath the layer of flesh that covers my body. Finally, I slant forward and grab hold of his hand, trapping it in mine and forcing him to stop itching.
“Would you stop that?” With my free hand, I trace my fingertips down the red marks. “You’re scratching the hell out of yourself.”
His mouth curves downward, confusion written all over his face as he stares down at the scratches. “You seemed perfectly content last night about scratching me.”
I scratched him… what?
When I don’t say anything, staring at him unfathomably, he adds,” God, you really can’t remember anything at all, can you?”
“But apparently you can remember some stuff you’re not telling me,” I say, still grasping onto his arm to the point he should probably tell me to ease up, but he doesn’t, which makes me want to only grip tighter. Hurt him.
“This happened at the beginning of the night before I lost track of you.” He holds my gaze firmly. “After you left my office yesterday, you came back up a while later and well…” He shifts uneasily. “We fooled around quite a bit.”
“We did?” Why can’t I remember this?
Maybe you should ask him.
He nods. “How can you not remember… you weren’t that drunk when you came up. At least I don’t think you were.”
I rack my brain for any sort of spark of reminiscence, but all I can remember is making it to the bottom of the stairs right after I told him he could study me for the night, tripping over my own feet, then falling to the floor. Then nothing. “And things got kinky I’m guessing.” I think about how I bit his lip before I walked out of his office and how I liked it, inflicting pain on him.
“Not too bad, but…” He glances down at his arms and then at my fingertips digging into his skin. “You did get a little rough.” His voice cracks and I can tell he wants me to let his wrist go. It makes Lily not want to let it go. Hold onto it forever until he cries out my name.
Bits and pieces float back to me.
“God, you’re so fucking amazing,” River kisses me deeply as I straddle him in his office chair, gripping onto him, stab my nails into his flesh. Lines form on his skin. Dots of blood drip out… I love the sight of it. This is who I am. I’m sick. Twisted. Deranged. And I fucking love it, because if I don’t love it than I have to fear it. Accept or drown in self-hatred. I’ll never let fear own me—never let anyone control or hurt me. I want to hurt him. And I can, because I’m wild reckless Lily, who doesn’t give a shit. Strong. Even a little deranged, which was who I was supposed to be in the first place.
I rock my hips against River and he groans, his hand sliding down the front of my neck to my breast. I’ll admit it, despite my distrust for him, it still feels so good. Makes my body yearn for more. But right as he’s about to brush his fingers across my nipple, I snatch hold of his wrist and bite his bottom lip. This time he moans out in pain and I feel satisfied. In control. I almost own him. But not completely. I need to own him completely to feel in control again.
The memory starts to become hazy as I straighten up my posture. “Did you like it?” I ask River, my lips moving on their own accord, completely separated from my mind. I’m not Maddie at the moment. Not Lily either. But some weird in between person where both of us have control.
He seems apprehensive with my question, like he wants to pull his hand away, but doesn’t dare. “I don’t know, Maddie… It was different.”
My brow meticulously arches. “Different good or different bad? Tell me River, did you like it when I was rough?” My tone is demanding and I press my fingertips roughly into his wrist, until I can feel his pulse hammering, hammering, hammering. He’s afraid.
Good.
But I feel wrong for making him afraid. For hurting him.
That’s because you’re weak. You need to be stronger, like me.
Pitter-patter… pitter-patter… pitter-patter… I can feel the rain falling… hear the thunder… feel the fear… Feel it… it’s clutching onto me and I want nothing more than to not feel it.
Let me help you, Lily coaxes. Let me show you how to be immune to the pain.
“Maddie, you’re hurting me.”
The sound of the pain in River’s voice snaps me back to reality and I jolt back, releasing my hold on him. “I’m sorry.” Get up and leave. No more questions. “I need to get home.” I practically jump to my feet as I summon up every ounce of energy I have to shove Lily away.
River stands up, too. “Do you need a ride?” He tucks a strand of my sweaty hair behind my ear again in an affectionate way that makes me want to drop to my knees again and vomit some more. Don’t touch me, I almost lose my voice again and growl at him, but I manage to regain control and snap my jaw shut.
“No thanks. My car’s outside,” I manage to say politely, straining to ignore vertigo when it slaps me in the face. I feel like I’m slowly leaving my body and someone else is taking over my legs.
He follows me as I hurry to the bathroom, feeling hollow inside as I trudge down the hallway, desperately trying to summon up last nights memory of when I went down it and then locked myself in the freezer. Just like the first time I lost my memory there’s no spark of anything, only this time there’s no accident and I can still remember everything else, except for part of last night.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” River asks as I grab my bag from the cubby and head for the front door. The fresh air out front feels weird and my stomach still feels like it’s on fire.