Page 152 of Shadowface 1979

Talia grabs my hand, and we bolt down the darkened stairwell, and she pulls me through the second floor and straight to the girls’ washroom. We hear footsteps and yells behind us just as two security guards rush up the stairs in the opposite direction, missing us by a hair. The professor must have called for help.

I’m shaking, and she wraps her hands around my midsection to comfort me. Talia places her fingers on my lips, keeping her body close to mine. “Don’t move, Didi.”

“I can’t believe we just did that,” I whisper. Every nerve ending is on fire, especially where Talia is touching me.

“Stay quiet until we know it’s safe. Bax is waiting for us in the Shaggin’ Waggin’. We just need to get to him, and we’ll be okay.”

We don’t move for a few seconds, and we freeze when we hear the heavy thud of footsteps outside the washroom.

Tasting the metallic tang of his blood on my lips, I’m shoved into a dark stall by Talia. She quickly hops into the next one as the door opens, and a flashlight slices through the shadows. If they find us, everything ends, and I’m terrified of what they might do to me. I’ll be blamed for everything.

The guard shines the light throughout the washroom, and I don’t dare to breathe.

“All clear in here, Frank,” a male voice drawls out, and he closes the door again, leaving us in the dark once more.

A few seconds go by, then a few more.

“Talia…” I gasp.

She’s dead quiet before she says, “Quiet. Let’s give it a few minutes before we sneak out.”

My heart is like a hammer on a brick. “Okay.”

Everything is hazy as I stumble toward the outline of the sink, turn the faucet on, and splash water over my face just as the fluorescent lights flicker on.

I scrub my face, arms, and hands, getting every inch of that man off me and glance at Talia in the mirror, who looks untouched in her short dress and knee-high boots with only a small drop of blood on her hands—unlike the streaks of blood all over me.

She stares down at the ancient book like she wants to devour it, flipping through its pages. Her eyes are working overtime, like the words themselves are made of honey. To me, it looks like one of Mama’s old Bibles.

Finally, we make eye contact through the mirror, and she bursts out laughing, dropping the book to the side. “I cannot believe you did that, Diana. You stabbed him, you savage little creature.”

She should talk. After all, she’s the one who castrated him.

I stare at her in the mirror and wipe the remnants of his blood from my mouth. “He deserved it. His mouth tasted awful.”

She blinks at me, gripping her precious book to her chest. “I’m well-aware of what that man tastes like. I’ve been pushing him off me for two years. I only gave into him when he promised me the research assistant job, and as soon as I did, my allure ran out.”

Her reassurances make me feel better. “Do you think he’ll talk?”

She merely shrugs. “Only if he lives to tell anyone about it. He lost a lot of blood and a rather important appendage.”

“Does Tommy know that you’ve been fucking him?” I ask, sipping on more water.

A devious smile forms on her lips, and her eyes focus on whatever is written in that old book. “Why would I tell Tommy I’ve been fucking my professor? Tommy doesn’t understand things like that, Diana. Besides, it’s not like Tommy hasn’t been fucking you.”

I lean my hands back on the counter, feeling more alive than I have in a long while. “So, do you finally trust me?”

She tilts her chin but can’t stop reading. “Yes, Diana. You did good, my little pet.”

I beam, knowing it’s wrong, but I can’t help it—her approval means everything to me. I’d kill anyone for her.

I tweak my head to the side. “Pet… Is that what I am to you?”

She stops reading and steps toward me, twisting a lock of my hair and smiles. “That’s what everyone is to me.”

“I guess I can live with that.” I smile coyly, and she continues to ignore me, devouring the scripture.

“I don’t like them,” I say to her.