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Isadora
Another week seems to fly by, and somehow it’s Friday again. Each day is spent stealing glances of Lucian, shy smiles, secret touches, and hiding away from the other staff to make out in the shadows. We’re like children, sneaking around the manor, as if they don’t already know what’s going on.
Every night, Lucian comes to me and takes me for hours, in positions I’ve never imagined, before he carries me to the bathroom to clean me up. Most mornings, he’s gone before I wake.
I’ve not yet seen his bed, which I suspect is his way of ensuring that I remember what this is between us, and I do. But I want more, and I hate that about all of this. I hate that his touch lingers for far longer than I care to admit, and that the sound of his voice consistently leaves my panties a soaked mess, as if I’ve somehow been primed and trained to respond to it that way. The dreams of him, in his absence, have grown more vivid, darker than before, and I’ve begun to fear them less. Just as the sounds and shadows in my room at night no longer startle me awake.
My cravings have also intensified.
This morning, during my shower, I let the water from the spigot run over my face, as I touched myself, aroused by the lack of breath. The memory of Lucian’s riveted expression in the cave that night, sparkling with some kindred understanding, swirled inside my head while the evidence of my climax ran down my leg.
I haven’t decided yet, whether I’ll go home for the weekend, or spend it at the manor, as Lucian insisted. Aside from the brief visit to the bar, I haven’t seen much of Aunt Midge. But maybe I need a couple days away from him. To distance myself from this growing obsession that’s sure to destroy what we’ve established between us.
I don’t know what’s happened to me in the last week, but since that night in the cave, my preoccupations with the master of this manor have brought me to a heightened need that scares me a little. As if he’s the only one who could possibly understand my sudden fascination with this newfound thrill.
Outside, a black object flutters by my window, breaking my thoughts. It hobbles and flits about the sill on the other side, but the black wings are unmistakable. A raven, or crow. When it finally settles, it tips its head, and I stare down at the bird with the missing eyeball. Perhaps the one I saw the first day, while riding with Aunt Midge. The strange bird caws and flaps its wings again, and in seconds, it takes flight, smacking into the glass.
My muscles flinch, and I step back, frowning. The bird hits the window again. And again. As if it’s trying to come inside, not aware of the barrier there. Its squawks grow louder, and its determination to come through has me backing farther into the room, until the door on the opposite side hits my spine. The obnoxious cawing continues, and I slip out of my bedroom, deciding to head to Laura’s room early today. A tremor hums beneath my skin as I glance back to my room, to be sure it didn’t break through, before shuffling down the hallway to the first floor.
When I enter Laura’s room, Dr. Powell is packing up his bag, stuffing a stethoscope inside. Laura smiles as she sits watching him. The new nurse, who I’ve not yet met, bustles about the bed, and pauses to toss the blue pad into the trash.
“Ah, look who’s here, Laura. Your babysitter has arrived!”
“Companion. And she isn’t terrible. I suppose.” She seems to have her wits about her more today. Perhaps the doctor’s presence has this effect? Or maybe the new nurse is a welcomed change.
“I’ve altered her dosing a bit, so she should be less …” Dr. Powell circles his finger next to his ear, his words confirming my observations of her. “Cuckoo.”
“Stop it.” Laura slaps his arm and gives a lighthearted chuckle. “I’m not losing my mind just yet.”
“You were for a bit, there.” I tuck the blanket around her legs, and smooth down a flyaway hair.
“Well, I certainly haven’t forgotten in that time what a nuisance you are.”
“She’s warming up to you nicely, I see.” Brows lowered, the doctor jerks his head. “May I have a word with you? It’ll only be a moment.”
“A word? Alone? Is it about me?” Ru
Bending slightly forward, he takes Laura’s hand and leaves a kiss to her knuckles. “Of course not, darling. I’m sure it’ll come as a surprise to know not every topic is about you. I’m off to my next appointment, so you stay out of trouble.”
“You don’t know me very well, then.”
A sly grin crinkles his face, but once outside the room, it sobers to something more serious, as he closes the door behind him. “I, um … thought, rather than have you find out through Laura, I should tell you that Nell was found dead very early this morning.”
The air deflates inside my chest as I stare back at him, confusion and shock waging war inside my head. “Dead?”
“Yes. It seems she overdosed.”
“Overdosed? That … that doesn’t sound right.”
“She’s been skimming pills off Laura for quite some time. I never said anything because, well … I didn’t exactly have proof. Just scripts ru
I know heroin abusers. Nell certainly gave off the addict vibe, but there’s no way she was actively abusing it all this time. This has to be a relapse.
I lift my gaze back to his. “Motel? What was she doing at a motel?”
“One of those pay-by-week things.”
Unless I got bits of the story wrong, I was certain Nell had her own place. “What about her son?”
“Son? I wasn’t aware she had a son.”
Maybe she didn’t talk about him much, or didn’t divulge anything personal like that. “Was it in town? On the island?”
“The motel? Yes, it’s, ah …” He taps his finger to his chin, contemplative for a moment. “Crow’s Nest Motel.”
I know that one. About a mile and a half from where Aunt Midge works. They not only rent by the week, but by the hour, as I understand. “I can’t believe she’d throw everything away.”
And yet, I absolutely can, because that’s how junkies work. There is nothing more valuable than the drug. Not even a child. I know that from firsthand experience, which is how I got dumped on my aunt’s doorstep.
“Well, she was always a little shady. Used to hang out at some skeevy bar. She liked picking up the locals to take back to the motel and shoot up.”
“The Shoal?”
“Pretty sure that’s the one.”
Sure, there are some interesting characters that end up at The Shoal, but I’ve grown up with a lot of those guys. Worked summers with some of them. They’re not the most upstanding citizens on the island, but I can’t imagine any of the regulars taking a young girl back to a motel to shoot up drugs. I’ve seen much skeevier places than that bar.
Then again, maybe I don’t know any of them any more than I thought I knew Nell.
“Anyway, I need to go, or I’ll be late. I just wanted to let you know.”
“I appreciate it. Thanks.”
I head back into Laura’s bedroom, where she sits with one eyebrow quirked, and I shake my head. “Just giving me some info on your new meds.”
“So, it was about me. That man is such a liar,” she says with a smile.
I want to ask her if that’s true, and to what extent would he lie. “It’s beautiful outside. I was thinking maybe we could sit in the garden and read.”
“What garden? You mean the cemetery of vines and shrubbery in the yard?”