Jonathan Roy Part 3

"Answer the question, Ginger!" I growl hoarsely, pulling her curls with more force. Finally, her eyes open, allowing me to see the fear in them as she focuses on me.
"That you were suicidal..." My skin feels her trembling fingers splayed on my chest. "She didn’t tell me anything else, Jonathan."
Her beautiful eyes are an open book, and they no longer show fear—only pain. I feel a sharp twinge that makes my shoulder twitch as I turn my neck to the side.
"Did she tell you that my cock only fucks and can’t make children?" A low sound escapes her lips as she shrinks away, and I turn my attention back to her face.
"Yes, Roy..." My teeth clench like a rabid dog. When, in a sudden burst of courage, she touches my throat again, I grip her hair even tighter, hearing the low sound of pain that escapes her.
But even so, her finger remains there, tracing the scar, gliding slowly, as soft and deadly as the blade that made it. I feel my heart beating fast, out of control, racing with each second she stares at the aged mark. Her head tilts gently and vulnerably, and I close my eyes to avoid feeling as exposed as I am in front of her, under her touch. It’s as if the healed wound is being undone by the glide of her finger, abandoning me. Numb and still trying to regain control, my fingers relax their grip on her hair, but they remain tangled in her curls. Everything is crushing me—the paralysis returning. The warm air on my skin brings back forbidden memories, long buried deep within me.
"That’s all, Roy. That’s all she said." Gim’s voice is intoxicating, like a shot of absinthe.
My consciousness drifts inside the old mansion that is my mind, dragging me into destructive, abandoned rooms I’d locked away. The deeper I wander, the more decay I see within its moldy, rotten walls. My mind is a lonely mansion, filled with pain and bitter memories that echo only with cries and a long-abandoned rage, leaving me paralyzed. Memories reflected in the mirrors and the dusty furniture, brimming with darkness and sorrow. If I descend the staircase, at the end, deep inside, I’ll find the most brutal version of myself, the one that only surfaces when I lose control. But I keep him locked there, gripping my control with both hands. I don’t want to go there! It’s the only door I don’t open because I know she waits inside. The pounding echoes violently through my cruel memories. I can’t blame anyone because I locked myself inside this lonely mansion, paralyzing my soul and freezing all emotions. But Gim is a spider, a small spider that manages to slip through the cracks in the dark walls that have become my mind. I see the cracks forming, like flashes of sunlight, as her lips press timidly against the scar, planting a chaste, embarrassed kiss. With each new kiss along the scar, more cracks open. My hand releases her hair, I breathe deliriously, and I run my fingers through the softness of her wavy curls. And in response, my mind opens that door just a little, and the small, delicate hand appears, with its slender wrist.
"My good boy, come..."
I clench my jaw bitterly. Her voice brings me pain. I had forgotten how soft and cheerful it was... I don’t want to remember, I don’t want to hear it, because it will bring back memories of her calm smile.
I grip my fingers tighter, holding the small woman who is naked in my lap. I feel her hands gently cupping my face—it’s a light that pulls me out of the paralysis I find within myself. I open my eyes, receiving her final kiss, and lose myself in her calm black eyes, as tranquil as a sea without waves.
"Why did you do that, Gim?" Her thumb strokes my chin, allowing me to see all her emotions, feelings that don’t grow in the dead swamp that is my soul, but that I want. I want them like my ray of sunlight that chases away the darkness from this mansion—my little Nautilus, my brave submarine venturing into the stormy seas that surround me.
"To heal your wounds, my Master..."
Her body moves slowly, bringing her lips to mine, kissing me sweetly. A small and fearless creature, a spider. A little spider weaving her webs across the walls of my mind, and, for a moment, I lose myself in her warm, soft lips. I don’t want her far away; I want her here. I don’t want to be alone in this lonely mansion that is my mind anymore.



***



Her hair cascades down her back, leaving only the thin straps of her dress visible on her shoulders. Her small feet tap slowly on the floor, in time with the music playing in her earbuds. I glance around, taking in the quiet library, where she is the only one present, searching for something to read. Gim didn’t come down for dinner, spending the entire day locked up in the room with Jon and Baby, leaving me frustrated by her absence, a self-imposed punishment. At mealtime, only Baby was there. The inedible food remained on my plate, untouched, as I spent every second staring at her empty chair.
"Why didn’t she come down?" Baby looks at me, shrugging her shoulders and wiping her mouth as she chews.
"I don’t know, you tell me." I grip the glass too tightly, clenching my jaw, receiving a reproachful look from Baby.
"Jon preferred to have dinner in the room." Lorane’s voice cuts in, only adding to my lack of appetite. "Jonathan, we still haven’t discussed how things are..."
I shift my gaze from Baby to her, gritting my teeth and suppressing the urge to kill her in cold blood, to drown her with that damn wine bottle, forcing her to swallow every last drop.
"Aren’t you going to eat, dear?"
I rise from the chair, shaking my head at Aunt Charlote.
I take one last look at the empty chair, clenching my fists by my sides, and leave the dining room. I storm through the hall when I hear a call:
"Jonathan, wait... Damn it, Roy, wait!" Baby rushes to grab my arm, but quickly lets go when I glance at her hand and then back at her face in silent warning. "Roy..." She runs her fingers through her hair, nervously pushing it back, inhaling the air in distress. "Leave her. You need to stay away from Gim."
"Do you want me to stay away, or does she?"
I arch my eyebrow, flare my nostrils, and breathe heavily. Her body shrinks. She lifts her head towards the top of the stairs and uses her arms to hug herself. Baby always does this when she’s anxious, feeling cornered.
"She didn’t say anything. In fact, Gim doesn’t say much at all. But enough is enough, Jonathan!" She turns to me, looking at me with pain. "It’s obvious this isn’t going to end well. You’re pushing her too hard. You’ve been fucking her for three weeks straight! Gim is visibly dependent."
"I don’t recall you complaining when she fucked you in that room." Baby’s face turns red, her eyes filled with indignation.
"What happened there was different, and that’s why I told you. Because neither of us planned it, it wasn’t part of some twisted game, it just happened." Yes, I know, and I don’t blame Baby for getting lost in those black eyes.
"Even so, no matter what happened, you knew the rules." I stare at her, watching her fall silent.
"Oh, for God’s sake, Jonathan! I already told you it wasn’t planned. And yes, I know very well that I wasn’t supposed to sleep with her since she’s playing your game." She shakes her head in frustration, looking down at the floor. "I also told you that there are many ways to love, and I love her in all of them. Her friendship makes me happy, Roy. And it’s because of that friendship that I know this isn’t going to end well. Just as I know the rules of your game, I know its consequences."
Baby drops her arms, rubbing her face in pain, looking back at me with fear.