Everything Bianca

So Many Pies, So Few Fingers

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Writing Excerpt
If she pushed me too far... No one had ever asked that, but that was why I allowed her into my sanctuary, wasn't it? My behavior in her presence defied reasoning. She wanted to scream for me? My mind whirled with the possibilities.

"Relax," I said to her. She settled along the bed at my side. The tops of her thighs were an angry red color. She took pain well. I looked forward to learning how well. "What drove you to memorize such fascinating literature?"

She smiled, "What better to shock the sensibilities of people I wanted nothing to do with, or attract those who did not see me for what I really am?"

"Did Valencia know?"

"A little, enough to intrigue her, but not enough to drive her away."

"How did you even find those books?"

"I stole it," she openly admitted. "I was young. I don't even remember whose house it was anymore, a friend of one of my relatives?" She shrugged. "But once I started reading, I couldn't put it down. It became my genre of choice." Sarena turned on her side and moved closer to me. "Have you ever read 'Permafrost'?"

"Have you?" I had, several times. When I didn't answer, she bounced up and paced the floor at the foot of the bed.

"That's not the real question."

"What's the real question?"

She stood in an X against the far wall and whispered. "Did you enjoy it? Did it make you breathe heavier? Could you feel the blood as it dried on your body? Could you smell death the way he did?"

"Did you?" I countered again.

"No," her voice was small, her head tilted to the side. "Not any of that." She turned to the wall, legs still spread, arms still against the wall.

I rolled off the bed and eased up behind her. I pressed my body to hers and held her wrists with my hands. "Then what?"

"I wanted to know him, tell him I understood. I wanted..." the words caught in her mouth.

"What?" I questioned. My heart thundered and it wasn't the drugs.

"I wanted to help - and that's not the right word."

"Find the right word," I kissed her on the neck.

She bowed her head. "I wanted to be there with him, for him to share it with me. Like in the Torment, I wanted to be a companion that didn't betray him or fail him."

"See?" My hands slid down her arms and along her side. "That was easy."

She turned to face me. "And you?"

What about me? Had I felt it too? Wasn't that what knotted my stomach each time I looked into her eyes?

"I have you in my room, my sanctuary. If you betray that - "

"Then you beat the life from me. Steal my last breath. Take me slow - "

I put my finger to her lips. I felt light-headed, a floating sensation filled my chest. "I would," I promised her. What kind of woman would say that to me?

Her tongue flicked out, embraced my finger. Her mouth opened, her lips pulled at me. "You should, but you won't."

I blinked, pulled my finger from her mouth. "I won't?"

She shook her head. "I will never betray your trust."

I wanted to see the lie in that sentence, the betrayal down the road. I trusted her more than she knew.


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