I’ve been here, in this beautiful hidden brownstone, happily squirreled away, getting fingered and edged and f****d and loved into oblivion. And all the while, Gideon…
He was walking out those doors nobody to stop him, because his sister, the one person who swore she always would be there, who was supposed to answer the phone no matter what, had powered hers off to traipse off to Fantasy Land with a Brioni-wearing beast.
I had a choice, and I chose Lukas. I chose orgasms and whispered confessions and the exquisite torture of being wanted so completely that the rest of the world ceased to exist.
Because of that, Gideon is gone.
I press my forehead against the cold marble countertop. The nausea swells and recedes.
You were supposed to take care of him, whispers a voice that sounds uncom
