“You’re so good with her,” he whispers into my hair. “Motherly. If you weren’t in Whisperwood, would you want children?”
I pause at those words, my breath catching in my throat. It wasn’t something I’d ever thought about, really. Derrick and I had used protection because coming up pregnant would have put him in a bad situation, but . . . do I want kids? My childhood was complicated, to say the least. My parents weren’t good people, and the rest of my family left me here to rot, so they aren’t too high on my list, either.
“I’m scared my kids would have the same experience as me.”
“Impossible,” he whispers, in a deep voice. “If anyone tried to harm our offspring, I’d cleave their heads from their bodies and give them to you in a bouquet.” He sounds so serious I can’t help but smile. This is the craziest part of him being sweet.
“How on Earth do you care for a bouquet of heads?”
“You let them rot, of course. Then the skulls can adorn your mantle forever. Much better than those traditional bouquets that wilt in a matter of days,” he snorts. He’s being awfully hoity-toity about this bouquet business, now.
“Oh, how practical.” I laugh.
Crane grunts his agreement and wraps his arm tighter around me. Someone behind us whispers, “Shh.” Crane lifts his head, glancing over his shoulder.
“Shut up!” I hiss, meaning both of them.
Beside me, Crane relaxes again and when he speaks, he sounds more like himself. “I’ll be honest, I never really cared for this movie.”
I gasp, covering my chest in mock-shock. “How dare you insult Narnia!”
“It’s just so–so–so happy!” He shudders against me. I roll my eyes and try to focus on the movie, but that’s hard to do when Crane’s fingers are tracing circles over the back of my arm. I swallow hard, focusing on the talking lion on the big screen TV. There is something strangely commanding about that lion, for an animated character.
The sound of Mitzy’s light snoring catches my ear, and I glance over to see her sprawled out against the arm of the couch. She’d tried to hang on, bless her. Settling in against Crane, I stretch out a little more comfortably, hooking my arm around his neck.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” someone hisses behind us. I turn my head to see an older resident glaring at the two of us like misbehaving children.
“Fuck off, roomer, I’ll do what I fucking want.” I meet his eyes, and Crane’s grasp on my waist tightens.
“I’d listen to her,” he growls between clenched teeth without turning around.
The roomer mutters something under his breath and crosses his arms as he turns his attention back to the movie. It’s a good choice. I’m enjoying my night with Crane. I have no idea what normal actually feels like, but I imagine it to be something like this. This may be as close to normal as I ever get, and I’ll be damned if some cranky old man is going to ruin it for me.
Crane glances across me at the still sleeping Mitzy and smirks, his hand sliding from my waist down to my thigh.
My eyes widen, and I shake my head, but my traitorous legs slip open easily when he presses against my thigh, a silent plea for them to spread. His hand creeps from my thigh up to the crease where my leg joins my hip and places delightful pressure. I’m ticklish there, but that feels . . . amazing. I’ve never been touched like this before. Before I know it, his palm cups my pussy through my sweatpants, and I gasp out loud.
“Shh, princess,” he whispers against my ear. “You don’t want to draw too much attention, do you?” He palms my pussy, grinding against in it flat, slow, maddening circles. The hot breath on my skin only urges me on, and I start rolling my hips against his hand. Crane growls against my ear, his breath coming shorter.
“Someone’s excited,” I hiss as his ever-hardening cock presses against the back of my thigh. Every time I roll my hips against his hand, his dick grinds into my leg. I wish so badly it was grinding against something else. Something useful. Like my currently soaking-wet pussy, for instance, I think with an eye roll.
“Well, it’s hard not to be,” Crane breathes against my neck. I want to laugh at his emphasis on the word hard, but for some reason I’m turned on even more by his ridiculous joke. It’s not long before he’s pulling at my waist band and pushing his hand into my panties.
I glance around us, worried someone is watching, but his free hand cups my chin, forcing me to look back into his eyes as his fingers plunge inside me. My lips part, and I hold my breath as a shiver racks my body, the pleasure rolling through me in thick waves.
Crane’s hooded eyes seem to lose focus for a moment before he turns my face back toward the movie. “Don’t get us caught,” he whispers as his thumb begins lazily circling my clit, his fingers still diving in and out of my pussy in a slow rhythm that’s driving me insane. I angle my hips, trying to gain more friction, but every time I do, he pulls back.
Biting the inside of my cheek, I give up and relax into his arms, allowing him to do whatever he wants without my interference. Keeping quiet proves hard, even as I try to focus on the movie. The effort it takes to swallow each sigh and groan as they start to bubble up my throat has sweat beading on my forehead. Every time Crane’s thumb passes over my clit, I shudder. Every time his fingers curl into my g-spot, I bite my lip to keep from moaning.
“That’s it,” he whispers against my ear again. “I can feel your pussy trying to milk me. Come quietly for me, princess.”
I don’t know if it’s because he told me to do it, or if he just has good timing, but all the heat in my core floods up my spine, spreading across my body in one agonizing heat wave as I tremble against him. My head falls back as I cum on his hand. Panting, I look around to see if anyone has been watching.
Crane’s hand stills in my pants as my eyes meet the roomer’s behind us. His eyes are hooded, his hand in his own pants, and I smirk before I flick him off and hide my face in Crane’s neck.
“Not so bad for a dweeb who prefers dead people,” I whisper, trying to catch my breath.
Crane pulls his hand from my pants and slides a finger between his lips, making a show of licking it clean. “I know a thing or two,” he assures me.
I’ll just bet he does.
* * *
/-/-/-/
* * *
It takes me forever to help a drowsy Mitzy find her room. Once she’s safely tucked into her bed, I skip past the orderlies in the hall and let myself into my own room. A knock at the door causes me to pause at the bed; I’d been just about to jump in.
“Kenz?” the voice calls out quietly.
“Come in, Danny,” I answer, turning back toward the bed and pulling down my comforter. I arrange my pillows how I like them and turn to find a rather nervous-looking Danny standing at the door, scraping his hand over his short hair. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing, I just–” he sighs, squaring his shoulders. That’s when I know I’m about to get one of the talks. You know, one of those ones parents are supposed to give, but Danny is the closest thing to a parent I’ve had in a long time. I don’t even think he has any kids of his own. Maybe this is like . . . practice for him.
“What did I do now?” I groan, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
“Nothing, yet,” he sighs. “I think maybe you should stay away from that Crane kid.”
“What? Why?” I jump back to my feet, my hands flying to my hips as I wait for a good explanation for this.
“I’ve been thinking about it, and I noticed you two have been getting closer. He’s always with you and Mitzy, it seems like. But he’s dangerous, Kenzie. Yoon says he’s got urges.” Danny looks away uncomfortably, and I shrug.
“I know. He’s not dangerous to me, though. His crazy likes me.”
“Kenzie–”
“No,” I snap. “This place has taken my whole fucking childhood away from me. And my teens. And it looks like my twenties are on the table, too. I just want to enjoy something, let me fucking enjoy something
!” I blink away the tears gathering in my eyes. Danny’s hands fall to his sides; he looks defeated.
“I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“You’re not actually my dad, you know,” I hiss. “I don’t need you protecting me all the time. Get out.”
“Kenz–”
“Get out!” I repeat, louder this time. My finger points toward the door, and I pretend it isn’t shaking. It’s not the first time I’ve argued with Danny over the years, but this is by far the worst. How dare he try to take away the one thing bringing me any joy? Nothing except Crane has made me this happy. Not even Derrick.
Danny’s head hangs as he makes his way out of my room, pushing the door closed behind him.
I wrap my arms around my waist and throw myself down on the bed. I wish I could go back in time to the second before Danny came in. I’d been in a post-orgasm bubble; everything was rose tinted. Then he had to come in here with his negativity.
Growling at no one in particular, I listen to the sounds of footsteps in the hall. After a while, they fade, become less frequent, until finally it’s silent out there. As I approach my door, I notice it’s not locked. Maybe this is Danny’s peace offering. I slide the nail scissors into my bra and peek out into the hallway, just to make sure the coast is clear.
The empty hallway seems gloomier than usual, but empty, nonetheless. I pad quietly down the hall, the cool tile forcing me to walk faster since I forgot to put my shoes back on. I make my way quickly across Whisperwood toward Crane’s room, sliding silently past the pervy, chubby inhabited room. My hand falls to the door handle. I twist it, mainly out of curiosity, but it turns.
Yep, this is definitely Danny’s version of an apology.
I slip into the room quietly. Crane is lying on his back, staring at the ceiling. “Hey, princess,” he murmurs. “I was wondering if you would come by tonight.” He pats the bed beside him, and I make my way over, stashing my scissors on the dresser where I had before. It’s my spot now.
As I sink into the bed beside him, his arms come around me. His chest presses against my back, his breathing even and strong. “Go to bed, Kenzie.” He squeezes me tight, his breath against the back of my neck more than a little unnerving.
“I hadn’t exactly planned on sleeping when I came over . . .,” I grumble quietly.
“I know,” he laughs, pulling the covers around us tight, and I blow out a puff of breath, closing my eyes begrudgingly.
Chapter 11
Crane
With Kenzie in my arms, my dreams are thankfully silent, as if even H and my insanity are content with the moment. My nightmares stay out of focus and out of reach, and I don’t even remember them in the morning when I crack open my eyes and glance down at the woman wrapped around me.
In sleep, she looks innocent, like she’s not really trapped inside Whisperwood, like she doesn’t realize nothing is normal about her situation. She said she grew up in this place, that she didn’t really know any different, and my chest aches for her. I can’t even imagine what it would be like as a child in Whisperwood, knowing they think you’re insane, and then growing up with no one to truly call your own, or a friend. Although, I suspect Kenzie has many friends within these walls. It’s hard not to like her even with the constant cussing and the penchant for trouble. It’s difficult not to look at her and want to set her free.
That is what we will do, H interrupts my thoughts. She will know freedom at our side.
I take a deep breath and hold Kenzie a little tighter against me. I don’t argue with H. It’s pointless because I want the same thing. The only problem is, with all this power H talks about, I don’t see it. Sure, I get angry, but so far, I haven’t Hulk smashed anyone. I think H is a little more hot air than powerful.
How dare you? I am more powerful than you know, Crane.
I snort. “Right,” I whisper, my eyes glancing toward the door where daylight is streaming through the window. The realization slams into me at the same time someone bangs on a door down the hallway, a stern voice yelling “Wake up!” echoing to us. “Fuck!” I grab Kenzie’s shoulder and shake her gently. This isn’t good. “Kenzie, wake up,” I hiss, scanning the room for a possible escape but this isn’t a hotel. There aren’t any vents I can commando my way through or force Kenzie to hide in. The space under the small bed isn’t enough to conceal a full-grown woman. The only escape is through the single door, and the banging is getting closer.
“What?” Kenzie grumbles, her eyes cracking open as she looks up into my eyes. It doesn’t take her nearly as long to figure out what’s going on as it did me. She shoves me backward hard enough to slam my back against the wall as she stumbles from the small mattress. “Fuck!” she snarls, scanning the room the same way I did.
“Wake up!” Not only is the voice louder, but it’s also familiar.
“No,” I groan. “Not him.”
I can take care of him.
“No, you will not,” I chastise. “I have no idea what that means, but it doesn’t sound good. We’re fine. We can figure this out.”
“Stop talking to H and figure out where to fucking hide me,” Kenzie hisses, trying to fold herself beneath the small desk.
“That isn’t going to work,” I point out, and my voice is a little too calm for the situation. I have no idea how severe a punishment will be for me, but I assume not as bad as it will be for Kenzie. I’m here voluntarily. They still need my money. Kenzie might as well be their child they wish they could send away to boarding school.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” Kenzie scrambles from the failed hiding spot and eyes the small vent.
“You won’t fit.” I glance toward the mattress. “How much would they believe I lost my mind last night and tore the bed to pieces?”
“What do you mean?” Kenzie eyes the bed, but I don’t wait for her agreement.
I strip the sheets from the dingy mattress and toss them aside. I stand the mattress up against the wall like a teepee and then for good measure, I dump a few more things around the room, scattering some of the papers from my still unread welcome packet along the floor. “Crawl between the mattress and the wall,” I whisper, afraid the asshole orderly will hear me.
“That could work,” she nods, following my directions and carefully climbing into the small space, the wood planks of the bed frame creaking just a tiny bit as she pulls herself in. I try my hardest not to stare at her ass as she climbs inside, but it’s a failed attempt.
The banging echoes on the door next to mine, the man’s voice echoing louder than necessary, as if he’s trying his hardest to piss people off. My neighbor’s door slides open, and I hear them talking, the orderly growling insults and being an all-around asshole. That guy needs a serious kick in the ass.
Or his head released from his shoulders.
I have to agree with H there. I wouldn’t mourn his loss if something were to accidentally happen.
I can sense him getting closer, and I automatically shift closer to the opening, blocking Kenzie from his eyes more. If the pattern follows, the orderly should just open the door, wake me up, and move on to the next door. There’s no need for him to come inside. I look over the torn-up room again and hope it’s not enough to make him question anything.
The loud rapping against the metal echoes in my room, and the door slides free. The orderly’s eyes go right to my torn-up room, and his eyebrows raise up. I can see his glee at finding a supposed weakness, at the feeling that he’s saner than I am. It doesn’t insult me because I honestly think I’m crazy at this point. What bothers me is how his chest puffs up, and I can see his need to be the most powerful person in the room fill his veins. If I wasn’t so worried about him finding Kenzie, I’d roll my eyes. He’s just another rooster missing his tail feathers.
We can put him in his place.
“And where is that?” I whisper. The orderly, Vic, his name tag says, narrows his eyes on me.
Dead and decaying.
Huh, the thought fills
me with pleasure. Maybe I really am acclimating to my insanity.
“What happened in here?” Vic asks, his chin tilting up. It almost makes him taller than me, but he’s still too short. I don’t puff up in return. I don’t tense. The only thing I do is curl the corner of my lips.
“I got mad.” I shrug my shoulders for a little extra oomph. “It happens.”
“You’re gonna clean it up,” he orders.
“Obviously. I certainly didn’t think you were going to do it.”
Vic takes a step toward me, his lips curling into a snarl. “You better watch your attitude, Straight Jacket. It’s gonna get you locked up in this place.”
I shrug my shoulders again. “We’ll see, but you don’t really scare me, guy, so how about you move on and continue on your merry way? Go follow the commands of your boss.”
“You better watch it, Straight Jacket.” Vic turns toward the door, and relief passes through my body. I should have known nothing is ever that easy. Just as Vic reaches the door, those wood planks creak again, a single sound which echoes in my small room. The orderly freezes, his shoulders tensing before he turns and meets my eyes. “What was that?”
“This is an old building,” I shrug, trying my hardest to keep the tension from my own shoulders. I can feel my anger starting to grow, and it worries me that I’ll end up doing something to get me locked up in here forever.
No cage can hold us.
That might be true, but it probably isn’t. I have no idea what these superpowers are which H talks about, but it’s a nice thought that if I want to, I can simply escape.
“That wasn’t the building,” Vic growls, his eyes scanning my room.
“Fuck off, Vic. I’d really like to get to breakfast.”
My words don’t have the desired effect. Instead, Vic fully turns and comes back into my room, his eyes searching for any sign of trouble. The problem is, there aren’t too many places which could be hiding that trouble. Within three seconds, his gaze focuses on my mattress and the small space I created against the wall.
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