He watches me bathe every night. My alone-time is limited now ever since I cut myself badly with a razor. I hoped it would be enough to take me to the hospital, that he would freak out, but I was wrong.
He stands against the counter with his arms crossed and his eyes hooded. The steam from the tub mists the bathroom and his black clothes are imposing in the fog. Someone else would assume he is aloof, disinterested. Maybe even bored.
Resisting one sexy barely-legal teenage school girl might have been possible.
But resisting two?
They came back to the room, which also served as my office, after class, at 4:00pm. I'd written them up for using their telephones in class, and told them they'd get detention for it.
Valeria was Russian; her family had come to America five years ago. She was tall and slim, with long blond hair, big green eyes, and smooth white skin.
Jay Williams loved living in the mountains. He loved waking up to the scent of pine. He relished how his cabin floorboards creaked under his footsteps. Even the early-morning chill only soothed by building a fire was refreshing. Nothing compared to chopping wood by the glow of the sunrise.
Most of all, he treasured the isolation. He hadn't always lived alone. There was a time when he woke cradled in another man's arms. But that chapter of his life was over now. That man was gone, and he was never coming back.