Page 44 of Haunting Goats

I know I just dashed away from him without warning, but I’m busy. I don’t want to chit-chat right now.

He grabs my chin, forcing it up toward him, and clenches it. “Watch the way you talk to me, little girl. I’m just admiring. I’ll be out here if you need me.”

He gestures to the main area of the motel and saunters away.

Damn him.

I work to spray all the inside of the toilet, including the water. I drop the lid back down and spray the entire top of the seat. When I’m done, I toss the can in the trash, because ghost or not, I’m not a pig. When I exit the bathroom, I find Attie using the desk lamp to smash the air conditioner in the window.

“Um, what the hell are you doing?”

He surveys me quietly, “None of your business, Lyr. Worry about yourself.”

He finishes smashing the A/C, not to break it—just to damage it—and tosses the bent lamp off to the side.

“Why are you like this? I am quite literally worrying about myself. This whole situation is about me!”

“You’re being conceited. You’re so fucking vain, Lyric.”

I scoff and go on a tangent because fuck him; he doesn’t get to treat me like that. It’s taken me all this time to realize it, but I never did anything to deserve what I got and I won’t accept that kind of shit any longer.

“Dammit, Attie! Who the fuck do you think you are? You’re either gonna treat me with respect and show me you love me, or fuck all the way off. Either way, I’m not putting up with this.”

Whoa. I don’t know where that came from, and the old me would never.

“Love you?” his eyes soften.

I see my future in them; I see my home.

The anger starts to fade the longer I lose myself inside those hazel eyes.

“Yes, Atticus. Love me.”

He lunges at me and pulls me into him. When he kisses me, it feels like my soul melds into his—there is no beginning—no end; just us in a sea of stars, no gravity to limit our love.

“How could I not love you? Loving you has ignited a newfound spark in the roaring fire that is us. You’re the match and I’m the gasoline, baby. I wanna dance in our flames forever.”

Tears prick my eyes, and my throat feels like it’s closing in on itself. I don’t know what to do with something like this. It’s all I’ve ever wanted, and yet it’s so overwhelming. So suffocating.

“I love you, Lyr. Please know that. You’re perfect.”

He kisses me passionately, our tongues feasting on each other, fingers roaming through hair. My pussy grows wet at his words, at his touch.

Before I get lost in this delicious man, a moan along with an “I love you, Attie” trails past my puffy lips.

He growls hungrily in my ear and bites my neck until I feel something wet trickle down my skin. I sharply gasp and I don’t wipe at the spot this time. The way he touches me feels so good. It’s almost like he acquired a cheat sheet somehow and he’s advanced in how to play this game—which buttons to push, how to finger that joystick, and I can feel the drips down my thick thighs just thinking about him man-handling me like a gaming controller.

I need him to play with me.

CHAPTER 28

ATTICUS

Ireach between Lyr’s legs and just as I do, Jake comes back to consciousness. Of course he does. He mumbles and groans as he wiggles around on the floor, peeling himself off the carpet. Using the counter for support, he staggers to the bathroom. He stops halfway when he picks up a pack of Marlboros and lights a cigarette, chucking the pack back on the countertop. He inhales the smoke too deeply, hacks and coughs while he walks.

Lyr and I follow close behind him, and Jake stands in front of the toilet, shimmying in place as he unbuttons and unzips his pants. His dick flies out and Jake begins to piss. He taps the excess ash off the tip of the cigarette and a hot ember falls into the toilet mid-pee. It sparks a fire, and Jake’s cock looks like a flame-thrower. He wails in anguish.

He looks around the bathroom in a panic, and his eyes land on the trash can near his feet. He quickly lifts it and dumps the contents onto the floor. Turning the sink on, he tips the can into the bowl and collects enough water to douse his scorching member. My eyes shift to Lyr.