Page 3 of Borrowed
T oby woke me up from sleep. He was standing over me, his shadow splitting my chest like a blade.
“Come on, Twin Sister. Wake up. It’s time to show me. Show me while the others sleep.”
I flinched before I moved. My whole body knew the rhythm of him now, how he entered a room, how he demanded the air bend around him.
“You’re too quiet,” he said, his voice thick, low, coiled. “Are you forgetting me? You know I don’t like those pills you took, Tabby. Pills make people quiet like Mila.”
“No,” I whispered, breath hitching as I sat up. The room was freezing. My thighs were bare, my skin sticky with sweat, and Mila’s come.
I didn’t forget.
I never could. Not when he looked at me like that. Mila was still sleeping and still hadn’t thanked Toby or me for making her come.
“Prove it then, Zusje.”
My heart stuttered fast now like Delia’s and Trumpet’s. I didn’t ask how. Toby never liked questions, only obedience.
The pencil was still on my bed, left…where he dropped it. It left an imprint on my back where I had slept. I didn’t like pink. It looked like a tongue. I pried the eraser out with my teeth like an animal. All that was left was the metal ring—bent and hungry.
“Look what I made, Toby.”
“Use it.”
I shook my head.
“Use it, Tabitha.”
His voice dropped into me like cold water. I felt it down my spine, right between my legs. He was always so close when he was angry.
Too close.
His breath didn’t feel warm, not like Mila’s. It was cold like ice.
“You said you loved me. Was that a lie?”
“No, no, I—Toby, I love you, I do, please?—”
“Then say it with your blood.”
I dragged the covers off. Mila didn’t wake. I pulled the pillow off her face in case she wanted to hear the walls talk to her.
Hesitating, I stared at the pencil, the sharp point warping like chewed metal.
Toby made a motion with his finger over his heart, and I brought the metal to my skin, following his line of direction. The sharpest edge faced out pressed on the top of my breasts.
My hands were shaking.
“You’re mine,” he said. “Show everyone else who you belong to.”
I closed my eyes.
Pushed once.
Again.
The first letter burned like fire, and Toby’s mouth was on me, licking away the sting.
‘T’
My breath hitched, but I kept going.
‘O’
‘B’
‘Y’…
I choked on the ‘Y.’ The groove wasn’t deep enough.
He growled. “Again.”
I dug it deeper, tears streaming down my face like salty worms. I carved it like a brand, sealing it with my tears as they ran down, joining the crimson.
Blood ran down the curve of my breast.
Toby knelt in front of me, fingers ghosting the letters.
“You’re perfect when you hurt for me. Look how ruined you are. Painted in blood.”
I sobbed. Not from pain. From relief. From belonging. Love hurt.
“Now show me more,” he said. “Take it all off.”
I hesitated.
His hand clenched around my throat, cold, icy. My vision blurred.
“Do you want me to disappear again?”
“No,” I cried harder.
“Then obey.”
I did. Pulling off the last bit of clothing. My panties fell to the ground with a sticky sound. I dropped my arm slowly. My hands were shaking.
He watched like a starving thing.
He didn’t touch me yet. Now his fingers ran over the softness of my belly, the curve of my hips, until they landed on the drenched heat of my cunt.
“That’s my girl.”
I groaned and froze, afraid Mila would hear. But Toby didn’t care. His eyes were on me.
“They won’t understand what we have. But you don’t need them.”
I nodded, tears on my lips, blood on my skin, and his hands claiming my body.
I was his.
Body.
Mind.
Soul.
Everything else was just…
Borrowed.
Toby swiped his finger over the light stream coming from his name and smiled, painting my lips.
“You are mine, my twin. Always and forever. Now sleep.”
I frowned. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to enjoy his fingers. I wanted to feel what he was capable of doing to my body. I wanted to come like Mila.
I wanted him.
But then suddenly, I felt sleepy, and when I laid back down on my bed, I smiled because there it was.
A black butterfly floating away back into the walls.