GUY: A Graveyard Girl Spin-off Novel

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GUY: A Graveyard Girl Spin-off Novel Page 4

by Ann, Bry


  “You’re fine now, though?”

  “It was so slithery.”

  “They slither. I'm confused what the problem—”

  “It made eye contact with me!”

  “Maybe it wanted to say hello,” I joke.

  Bad idea. I don’t recommend. Don’t joke about women and snakes. She looks more like a demon right now than a pretty woman.

  She slaps me.

  Literally, slaps me.

  “You asshole! It could have murdered me. Murdered me dead.”

  “That’s not good grammar,” I mutter only to myself because I quickly am realizing I value my life as it is, thanks. “Okay, let me grab a stick to get it out with. I'm sorry it scared you.”

  Let’s try that. When her eyes soften and her shoulders slump, I realize I'm on the right track.

  “Thanks. Where’s your stick? Are you gonna kill it?”

  Usually, no, but I need her spaz attack to end.

  “Yeah.”

  … and I failed again. Her eyes flash and, once again, her body tenses.

  “It could have a family!”

  “Jesus, what the hell do you want from me?!”

  “Get rid of it.”

  I'm gonna kill her. I turn on my heel, with her literally right behind me, and grab my snake stick from the storage closet.

  “Will that get rid of it forever?”

  ‘Til it comes back. “Yep.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yep.”

  “Are you lying?”

  Will she shut up? “No. Now show me to the snake so I can…” jerk off… “go to bed.”

  “Okay.”

  With a stern nod, she storms forward, expecting me to follow. It’s kinda funny how bossy she’s being when mere hours ago she was so timid. I'm sighing the whole way over to her room.

  As soon as we enter, she starts to whimper. It’s such a sad sound, I have a hard time being mad at her. And, yeah, I’ll give it her, there is a probably three-foot-long green snake slithering on her air mattress.

  I lift the snake stick higher and start to approach when a cold hand wraps around my bicep.

  “Yes, Kiki?” I grind out.

  She comes around and meets my eyes. Her dark blue eyes are full of concern. Concern I’ve never seen so blatantly aimed at me.

  “Will you be okay? The snake won’t hurt you or anything?”

  My lip twitches. “I can handle the snake, Kiki.”

  “What if there are more?”

  “God, Keeks, it’s not a pregnant spider. Let me just get it out of here and we’ll be good.”

  “Please be safe.” She literally chews on her fingernails as I approach the snake. Her level of terror is so exaggerated that it makes the snake seem significantly less scary.

  “You don’t have to stay.”

  “I won’t leave you.”

  “Oh my God, Kiki,” I laugh as I scoop the snake up with the stick (shocker, she gasps). “It’s a snake, not a pack of wolves.”

  She doesn’t say anything. Just chews her nails right off as I easily place the snake back outside and shut the door behind me. I’ll have to figure out how it got in, ‘cause that really is not typical, but I’ll do it later when Miss Psycho isn’t here.

  “That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”

  I snort. “Wow, you must date douches.”

  I instantly regret saying that. More than any snake comment I made. Because Kiki goes silent. An eerie kind of silent that speaks of demons I don’t know about.

  I turn to her.

  “Keeks?” I whisper.

  “It’s fine.” She waves a hand.

  “Why don’t you go back to bed? Try to get a little sleep. The snake won’t bother you anymore.”

  “I'm gonna go sit on the suction-cup couch for a bit. Maybe later.”

  “You good?”

  “Yep.”

  “Kiki.”

  “I just… I won’t be able to sleep.”

  “‘Cause…?”

  “The snake.”

  “I got rid of it.”

  “But it was there. I’ll feel it slithering all over me.”

  “Oh my God, you have PTSD from a snake. I can’t.”

  She glares at me. “Don’t you have any fears?”

  “Irrational fears, you mean?”

  “It’s not irrational! It’s a snake.”

  I smirk. “I don’t have any dramatized fears, no.”

  “Says the man holing himself up on an island alone. Come on.” She bats her eyelashes, which, I think she’s forgetting both of her eyes are black and blue. It loses some of its effect. It’s cute, though. “You can tell me.”

  “Fine, princess. People. People invading my life, forcing me to go back into the world.”

  Kiki kinda curls in. “Am I—I mean, I'm here invading your space all over, screaming about snakes—”

  “Hey, hey.” I grab her arm. “Sweetness, you’re fine. I like ya, señorita.”

  Her eyes beam. “¿Hablas español?”

  “Sí.”

  “Cool! I took four years of AP Spanish, and since it was all writing and tests, very little translated into actually being able to speak it. Only a little stuck. I'm actually really upset about it.”

  “Well, if you wanna learn, I’ll teach you. It’s not too hard.”

  “Oh shit, you’re a genius. Aren’t you?”

  “I'm not a genius,” I laugh.

  “If you say so.” She looks at me kinda funny for a moment, then shakes her head. “I’ve already interrupted your whole day. Go, go.”

  She waves her hand.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “You need to rest, Kiki. You’ve had a day.”

  “Eh, sleep’s overrated.”

  “Your snake fear, that’s what’s overrated,” I mumble. “If I change out my sheets, would you feel more comfortable sleeping in my room? It’s a little more uphill. Less right in the trees where the snakes are.”

  “I mean, if you don’t mind, but that’s your bed. I don’t wanna trouble you.”

  “Trust me, sweetness, I’d rather you sleep in my bed than hear you act like a boa constrictor wrapped around your neck instead of a harmless little green snake just trying to find a cozy place to sleep.”

  “They’re spawns of Satan,” she mutters.

  “So, what do you say, wanna use my room?”

  “I'm sorry,” she whispers, shame filling her voice. I’ve noticed she feels that way a lot when I do things for her. It sucks, but I get it.

  “Let me change out my sheets and finish my shower.” I look her up and down. “Then you can use my shower, too, if you’d like.”

  “Oh, thank God. I smell dank, dude. It’s gross.”

  “I mean, I wasn’t gonna say anything, but…” I smirk.

  “Hey!” She steps forward and smacks my chest, then freezes. It’s like she’s just realized I'm shirtless, because as soon as the sound of slapping skin finishes ringing in the room, Kiki freezes.

  Then swallows.

  Then slowly checks me out from bottom to top, lingering on my dick for just a moment too long. Which, admittedly, I'm only wearing grey sweats.

  “Okay, I'm going to bed,” she rushes out.

  She practically runs forward, tripping on her heels as she goes. I'm full-on grinning as I watch her. I'm leaning against the wall, waiting for the moment she realizes.

  Then she stops. Turns slowly. And faces me. Her cheeks are flaming red, even down to the tip of her little button nose.

  “You, uh, you have to shower.”

  Oh God, how I want to taunt her right now, but she looks ready to implode with humiliation, so I have to refrain.

  “And change the sheets, yes.”

  My lips pull up in a teasing smile. But yes, sweetness, I know imagining me naked is much more fun than changing the sheets.

  “Right. You should get on that, then.”

  She stares at the floor and waves her hand all around the roo
m. I can’t help it this time. I laugh. And I swear to God, when the sound escapes, even her ears turn red.

  “Stop trying to embarrass me,” she mumbles. “I'm confused.”

  “There’s nothing confusing about my dick, Kiki.”

  She gasps and looks up at me, wide eyed. With a groan and a giggle, she covers her face with her hands.

  “This is worse than the snake.”

  I laugh. “Now come on, be nice.”

  “You’re not being nice!”

  I laugh even harder, clutching my stomach and everything.

  “Oh, I like you, Kiki. I’ll leave you alone. Let me get my room ready for you.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbles inaudibly through her fingers.

  Smiling genuinely for the first time in a while, I go off to fist my cock. Oh, and make the bed for her.

  But priorities.

  Guy

  Twenty or so minutes later, I hear it again. That same soft female crying.

  Shit, Kiki!

  Now that I'm changed, the bed’s changed, and I'm, ahem, good to go, I run.

  “Kiki? Kiki?”

  My feet slide across the floor as I hurry into the living room.

  “Kiki?”

  Soft whimpering comes from the corner of the room. I follow the sound to see Kiki tucked up in the corner, lying in the dirt, rocking back and forth, asleep, crying.

  Aw, damn.

  I’ve never had an issue with where or how I live, but I fucking hate seeing her lying here, crying in the dirt.

  “Kiki.” I walk over and kneel down next to her. “Keeks?”

  More soft crying, except this time, her purple-painted fingernails find my knee and she holds on tight and cries onto it.

  “Kiki, doll, wake up. I-I don’t know what to do.”

  Do I wake her? Let her sleep? The fuck do I do? On the street, if you cry, you’re just bait. But she’s not from the street. She’s a beautiful, strong, lost, banged-up woman… and I don’t know what to do with that.

  I grab my phone from my pocket and click Frances’s number.

  “Frances,” I whisper.

  “What are you whispering for?” he barks, annoyed. Who knows why. That’s his resting tone.

  “There’s a chick on my floor, crying. What do I do, old man?”

  A laugh bursts out of him, getting Marley’s attention. I can hear her in the background.

  “Is that Guy? Frances, I'm talking to you! Is. That. Guy?”

  “You’re asking me this in front of her, you idiot?”

  “She’s sleeping.”

  “She’s crying in her sleep… Goddamn, Marley, get off!” he barks. I can totally picture her climbing him like a tree for the phone. The woman is nuts. But again, who else would Frances be with?

  “Yes, what do I do?”

  I glance at Kiki. Still crying, still rocking. I hate seeing her sweet eyes filled with tears.

  “You’re asking me? The fuck? Go away.”

  “Yes, old man in a committed relationship, I'm asking you.”

  “Wake her up. Fuck her. I don’t know.”

  “I'm not gonna fuck her!” I hiss over the speaker.

  “Hmm, sure,” he chuckles. “Mister Never Gets a Woman on His Deserted Island has one in his home. I give it three days.”

  “Fuck you,” I mutter.

  “What is she doing there, anyway?”

  “You’re no help. I'm hanging up now.”

  “Thanks for the heads up.”

  Fuck him. I laugh a little, but it’s dulled by the fact that I have Kiki on my knee, crying. I barely know the woman, and I wouldn’t say I have a big heart, given everything, but I do have feelings, even if I don’t understand them.

  I do think it’s a good idea to wake her, right? She’s having a nightmare.

  Yeah, I'm gonna wake her. I'm taking too long.

  “Kiki.” I lightly shake her. As soon as my hands land on her, she gasps and shoots up. Her blue eyes are crystal clear and awake like she was never asleep at all.

  “Rain?”

  “Uh? Uh, yeah, it’s raining.” The fuck?

  “No, I thought you were… never mind.” She shakes her head. She looks around the room and hangs her head. “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” I mutter, fidgeting.

  “I'm sorry. I get nightmares sometimes.”

  “I noticed. It’s okay. We all have our moments,” I murmur.

  “You don’t have to be so nice. I'm a fucking mess.” Her lower lip wobbles. “I'm beaten. I'm bruised. I'm in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know what I'm doing, Guy. I don’t know what I'm doing.”

  Big, watery blue eyes meet mine like I have the fuckin’ answers. Doesn’t she know I came here ‘cause I'm lost, too? That I'm so lost I came somewhere where I'm sure I’ll never be found, because to me, being found is ten times as scary as being lost has ever been. But that’s not what she needs right now. She needs strength. She needs surety. She needs stability. So, since I understand how she feels right now and it led to me needing to isolate myself on a fucking island, I’ll be that. For her.

  “You’re running. That’s what you’re doing, Kiki.”

  “I'm hiding,” she corrects. “I have to hide.”

  My hand lifts and traces over one of her black eyes. She nods in response to the unspoken question.

  “He can’t find me.”

  I swallow. A man did this to her. Fucker.

  “I get that. Is he why you’re cryin’ in your sleep, too?”

  “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Not ‘cause of the snake, too, right?”

  She giggles, and fuck, if it’s not the most relieving sound ever.

  “No, I’ve always been a whack job around snakes.”

  “That’s good to hear, I guess. I was like, the fuck did this guy do to you with a snake?”

  She’s full-on laughing. “He’s not creative. Just the typical fists and occasional choking.”

  “Classic abuser.”

  “Classic,” she teases, rolling her eyes. She glances down at the floor. “Thanks, Guy… for making me laugh.”

  “You’re welcome, princess. Come on. You need to shower and get some sleep.”

  I stand and extend my hand out to her. Trembling slightly, she takes it and lets me pull her up to her feet.

  “You gonna be alright?”

  “I’ll be fine. I'm tough usually. I swear.”

  “I believe you. I’d be bitching like a baby with those black eyes.”

  She flips her hair. “Not even fazed, babe.”

  This woman… I laugh. “See, tough. I knew it.”

  She beams.

  “I'm gonna go get clean. Okay?”

  “Okay, go for it.”

  She blushes and scampers off.

  Shit. Someone’s been hurting her. I figured, but it really, really sucks to hear.

  * * *

  Kiki

  Three Days Later

  “I raise you a Hershey’s Kiss.”

  Guy smiles a devious little smile. I can’t tell if he’s fucking with me or if I'm gonna lose, damn it!

  He carefully places a Hershey’s in the middle of the table, eyeing me. After a beat, he places his cards down, grinning widely.

  “No! How is that possible? How did you get all the aces? Did you cheat?!”

  “No,” he laughs. “I got fuckin’ lucky.”

  He takes all the Hershey’s to his side of the table and, just to piss me off, pops one in his mouth.

  “Mmm, chocolate.”

  “You have to share!”

  “Nope. There are apples in the kitchen.”

  “Fucker,” I scream with a giggle, leaping forward to grab one when the pain in my ribs stops me. I cry out and rear back.

  “Shit, Keeks, you okay?”

  “I'm fine,” I groan. “I just forgot.”

  “‘Kay, if you’re sure. Here.” I slide a Hershey’s over to her. “Now that I pity you, you can have a Hershey’s.”

  I laugh.
“You suck.”

  He grins with a mouth full of Hershey’s Kisses.

  “Don’t you work or something?”

  “I just finished a job. Now I'm off for a while.”

  “Must be nice.”

  “Yeah, what did you do?”

  “Anthony didn’t let me work,” I mumble.

  “Anthony, huh?”

  “Yeah.” I shrug.

  “Mmm.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Here, take another Hershey’s.”

  “Is this like, ‘shut up and eat chocolate; I don’t know what to do with you’?”

  He glances up at me, eyes shining. “Yeah, pretty much.” He chuckles. “Sorry.”

  “It’s totally fine. I get it.”

  “I like your hair like that, by the way.” He gestures to me up and down. “You have pretty hair. It looks nice.”

  “Oh, thanks.” I know I'm blushing. I'm totally crushing on this man (bad idea, I know), and he just complimented me.

  Ugh, why does he have to be this way?

  Cool, long blonde hair.

  So many abs.

  Cut jawline.

  Funny as hell.

  Charming.

  And, uh, ‘cause he wore grey sweats without boxers in front of me, I know he has a big ol’ dick. It’s unfair he exposed me to that.

  Bzzz… bzzz… bzzz…

  “Your phone,” I mutter.

  “Nah, that’s not mine.”

  “Me? Oh, shit.”

  I scramble around for my phone. When I finally find it, I pick it up for Rain. She’s the only person with this number. We were careful.

  “Hey, gir—”

  “Katrina.” My blood runs cold. All the blood drains from my face at the sound of his voice.

  “Anthony,” I breathe, choking on air. “I—”

  “I’ll finish that sentence for you, Katrina. You are coming home. You are coming home because Rain is currently with Ajax until you come back to me.”

  “You can’t do that!” I cry. “Her dad would never let that happen. I don’t believe you.”

  “I know you, baby.”

  “I'm not your baby,” I whimper as phantom pain throbs through every bruise he’s placed on my body.

  “I have pictures on the way, don’t worry. I’ll see you soon. Oh, and Katrina? Don’t keep me waiting.”

  I stay frozen with the phone to my ear for a long time after he hangs up. I can’t move. Can’t breathe.

 

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