Devil's Oasis

Chapter 11

Stupid man. It's been over a week since I've seen Dominic and I can't decide if it's a blessing or a curse. My body still aches where he was as if he's burned and imprinted on my body and in my mind. It was a one night stand- with a lot of raunchy talk. I flush remembering all that I said and did for him. I'm such a whore.

My house smells of him and dirty sex, the bookstore smells of him; all I can think of is him. I knew it was a mistake to have sex with him. Tossing and turning in bed, I finally give in, throwing back the few layers of blankets I have, I get up. No use in rolling in be when I could be at the bookstore- maybe I can finish that silly paper I have to write. I sigh as I stand, fixing my blankets on my bed before I get ready.

Pulling on my threadbare jeans and oversized jumper I add my hoodie for another layer. I can't get warm anymore. Dominic has ruined me from feeling normal heat, even the bookstore with the heat turned up as high as I'm willing to. My core is still chilled, a tremble always runs through my body no matter how many layers I wear. Is this what obsession is? OH my God- am I obsessed with him because we had sex?

The thought makes me ill as I stare at my bed for a moment longer before I practically run out of my apartment feeling claustrophobic. I don't want my bed anymore. I've always laughed at the typical romance book, where the long time friends sleep together and the woman inevitably swoons over her counterpart, having lusted for years. And now is at his beck and call because she's fallen for him.

Am I that now? The thought feels absolutely absurd to me as I jog down the steps to the streets, wanting to be anywhere but here. That's it, I've lost it; I'm a lost cause. I feel the urge to laugh hysterically as a harsh dry wind blows through the streets, stabbing into my exposed skin and eating through my feeble layers of clothes. I really need to get another jacket this year. This year has only grown colder and colder as it's gotten later. I don't even want to imagine what December will be.

The walk to the bookshop has my skin crawling with shivers, the eerie night whistles with each breeze through the streets. A car drives past slowly, I stare after the fairly nice vehicle in confusion. Hadn't that same car driven past yesterday? My schedule has once more become erratic, meaning I'm not sure why or how I'm seeing the same car so often each day. I'm just crazy.

I try to shake the heavy feeling of dread as it weighs my stomach down, unable to push the inclination off any longer. Is this Milo? The threat comes back to mind and my mouth dries as I turn the corner, the last leg to the bookstore. Its familiar wooden exterior is normally a comfort to me. It feels different. Glancing around I pull my jacket closer to myself, I look around nervously, trying to see anything else out of place.

It all looks the same. From the empty street, to the new light bulbs in the street lamps. It's all on camera, I can see if anything is happening. I reassure myself while I scurry inside the empty store, I lock the door behind me, with both locks before I breathe a sigh of relief. The boogey man isn't here. I want to laugh at the idea as I step inside, glass crunches beneath my shoe and my body tenses feeling the weight shift in my chest. The sound echoes in the shop and I freeze, lost for what to do.

"This is what's so special?" A deep voice speaks from the shadows, his voice travels through the small shop.

"The store is closed-" Really? That's the best you could come up with?

"It's rather pathetic, but I suppose it's fitting," there's a deep chuckle that has my skin crawling with unease as I step backwards, glass crunches further. "I mean, look who owns it; someone her own parents threw out." My heart thunders in my chest as the laugh sounds closer, I'm frozen in fear