He beamed at me.
“You should know once we cross that point in our relationship there’s no going back.”
“Are you always this hard to get into bed?”
With a sigh, he dropped the comforter and strode forward. Taking hold of my hand, he tugged me over to the bed and all but forced me into it. He slid in and fit my body against his.
“Was that difficult?”
I aimed a glare over my shoulder, burrowing into his warmth even more.
It’d been ages since I slept with a man, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t feel perfect pressing up behind me.
“To answer your question, no. Had you been any other woman I’d have fucked you many times by now, but you’re not other women, and you should be very glad about that.”
“I should?” I mumbled, being hit by a sudden rush of drowsiness.
“Yes, because I’m making you mine.”
Unsure if that should make me feel better or worse, I fell asleep replaying the one-sided conversation I’d had with Rebecca.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
We were there together again.
My nipples were rock solid due to the intense chill in the air, goose-pimples covered every inch of my bare skin.
I surveyed the office area, making my way to the operating portion of the room. Something about the act rang as familiar, as if I’d done this same thing multiple times.
Alaric was waiting for me, dressed in his whitecoat.
He watched me without saying a word. I approached the naked brunette he had restrained on the OR table, reaching out to stroke her tear-stained cheek.
“This feels familiar.”
“It should. You’ve been here before,” Alaric replied, pulling over his tray of goodies.
“Isn’t this a dream?”
He grinned, showcasing his dimple.
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”
“Then who is she?”
“She’s not important. This…” he lifted a scalpel, allowing the shiny blade to reflect in the light angled over the OR table. “This is. This is your final trial.”
The air seemed to thin for a moment, so much so that I swallowed and raised a hand to my chest.
“What is it?” Alaric asked placing the surgical tool down immediately.
“I don’t feel like me. Like I’m here, but I’m not. And it’s a little hard to breathe.”
“Come here,” he commanded.
I moved around the table, bare feet moving over the cold floor. He took hold of my shoulders and maneuvered me so that I was standing in front of him, my back to his chest.
“We have a few things to do, and then you can wake up,” he spoke softly, reaching for his scalpel once more.
I nodded, accepting the surgical scissors he picked up next.
“Just follow my lead.” He reached around me and pressed the tip of the scalpel to the brunette’s chest, a little above her left breast.
The instant he began to cut, she started to writhe.
As he made wide sweeping motions, the blade cutting through her flesh like softened butter, she started to scream at should have been a nerve fraying decimal. Neither Alaric nor I reacted.
I wasn’t shocked to find I didn’t care. Not even a little. She was insignificant to my life. Blood welled up, seeping from the incisions in endless rivulets.
“Cut where I’ve made my marks,” Alaric commanded, speaking right into my ear to be heard over what had become endless wails.
Placing the scissors between my lips for a second, I burrowed my fingers down into the slit nearest me, curling them beneath the underside of her flesh. I pulled it back as if I were removing a sheet of adhesive, slow and careful.
When I had a nice little flap lifted, I removed the scissors from my mouth and started to cut along the seams Alaric had made.
“Beautiful,” he murmured once we’d opened everything up.
I stared down at her lungs, watching them rise and fall in rapid succession.
“Can you remember what all of this is?”
I nodded, listing as many of the parts as I could recognize until my tongue grew heavy.
“You’ve gotten much better at this.”
I nodded again instead of trying to form a response.
“Now.” He moved from behind me. “Let’s take everything out.”
In silence, we worked together, dismantling the brunette while her heartbeat erratically between us.
You could see it pumping harder with every part of her she lost but didn’t technically need.
A kidney.
The appendix.
Gallbladder.
Spleen.
It wasn’t until Alaric tore out bits of her right lung that her heart began to falter. She was cold and dead by the time we finished. Her body like an egg that lost all its yolk, various organs and trimmings on the floor. I stared at the mess unable to remember why we had done this. I felt as if he’d explained it to me. So why couldn’t I remember?
Both covered from our elbows to our knuckles in bodily fluids and blood, Alaric attempted to wipe his hands on his jacket as he came back to my side of the table. It was rather pointless.