The library door moaned open, a deep groan cut the morning silence, the sun peeking through high windows, motes of dust drifting like lethargant depressives.
Gezza entered, sneaker scuffing clean floors, the Playbook banging with no noise in his bag—the old sweat and groans still stinging his skin.
Marie was seated at the circulation desk, her head stooped over a bulky book, glasses on her nose, others on her fingers, Two glasses, he said to himself?
He swaggered by, resting against the desk, wood chilly in his palms. "Hey, wassup."
She did not raise her eyes, turning the pages with a rustling sound. There was a silence, then her eyes moved towards him, bored. "What?"
Just thought we should hang out, he said, grinning cocky, voice low.
You know, because you are the only one who knows my secret. He stood still, and sniffed, scent of old books and her vanilla. "And don’t say you didn’t miss ."
And then Marie gave a thud of closing a book, and looked up at him, one eyebrow raised.
Do not imagine that because we had a one-ti affair we are couples.
"Uh--" Gezza moved round the desk, creaking his chair into her. "I never said we were."
Marie stared at Gezza, and dragged her eyes in a slow, deliberate movent, which was so sharp that it severed.
"What are you going to do with your harem, other than your imdiate ambition of revenge", she said, putting the reading glasses down, the lenses clicking together on the desk.
She rubbed her eye corner, rubbing so faint mascara, the yawns stifled her hand.
"Build an empire," Gezza replied, rubbing greasy hair, voice cocky and hollow.
"Too vague—What type?" Her head was lifted, and her chin was thrust up, a challenge glaring.
"Perhaps just own an industry". He shrugged, grin faltering.
"What industry?" Full and bored Marie yawned, the sound echoing off shelves.
"Haven’t figured it out."
"Hmph." She scrambled up, her chair scraping behind her, her skirt touching his thigh as she got up "So clueless"she added.
"What? you know you’re unpredictable yourself", Gezza, stepped closer. "Like why you’re immune, And at one point you looked like you hated the book wielders, the next mont you don’t give a fuck."
Marie looked, and her eyes were daring. "Write my na in the book, if you do not believe ." She leaned in, breath warm. "And why should I care for strangers."
Gezza smiled at her and then recalled on about Mike why he began his study on the body.
"Yes, there is sothing I never told you, Gezza said, his voice going down and the strap of his backpack piercing his shoulder as he lifted himself."
Marie’s brow arched. "Who?"
"A guy. In short--I got the book and stole his girl." He tightened his throat, and Elena, sleepy in a hand. "Now he’s hunting . Recently told that I am nothing without the playbook. And I don’t know how he knows."
"Perhaps, rare knowledge, said Marie, as she clenched her fist on the desk, knuckles whitening."
"Or the cult got to him", paranoia pricking, Gezza hissed to himself. What the book told . "Using his anger."
"Another explanation." She bent forward, her eyes maniacal. "You know where he lives?"
"Knows his parents’ house. Don’t think he live there anymore—Why are you asking?" Gezza sprang back, and scraped his seat.
"Let’s kidnap him. Or stalk him." Her grin split wide, reckless. "To get so cult info--it would be groovy."
What the—this girl is crazy she’s
fucking crazy, Gezza taught heart thumping, shadows sharpening behind her back like blades.
"No, I can’t—that is nuts", Gezza said in a cracking voice, and stepped away, squeaking at the knees with sneakers.
"Why? Scared?" Marie leaned into him and palm rubbed his jeans, burning denim. "Consider the information--or acquaintances he might have."
"Damn right, I am scared of kidnapping sobody!" He then lowered his voice "what of if his know nothing."
"It good to try—and I didn’t say you have to." His ear was brushed by her breath, fingers sliding down, jeans tightening with pain.
"Theoretically, I can do it. Just show his face." Her hand hung there, touching the swell. "And maybe we’ll fuck again."
Fuck- she is tempting , Gezza said, body false, cock aching. She’s not even under the spell. He attempted to take away her hand, fingers touching hers, yet his hips remained on, aching.
Gezza tightened his jaws, Mike sneered--nothing without the book. "Co on, you still want to get even with mike, Right." Marie added, voice low, dangerous.
"I know Mike would have done terrible things to you."
His anger rose up, hot and familiar. It’d be cool--show him who’s boss. "Fine", he growled, "but you are alone."
She smiled--slow, victorious, dust motes which stopped in mid flight as though ti had stopped.
Gezza drew his broken phone, its screen shining through fluorescent hum. This seed like a bad idea but he just trusted her.
"Think I got a picture of him." Swipe of a thumb--Mike wrapped his arm around Elena, and her sleepy smile was frozen. He tilted it to Marie.
She grabbed it, and her eyes closed with a finger following Elena. "That the girl you stole?"
"Yeah."
Marie smiled, slow and wicked. "You got taste."
Gezza picked up the phone again and sent a text--pic sent. "Oh, got this bar where I always see him. The Vault. Great place to et him."
Marie was on her toes, her arms up, the skirt riding, her blood a-glow with excitent.
"Maybe tomorrow--"
"Tonight."
"What?"
"Been too long since I hit a bar."
Mine now, grin Gezza--throne of Mike.
"Okay. Friday too. You’ll catch him there."
"Don’t know how you’ll do it."
Marie’s laugh scraped the shelves like a blade on bone. "Don’t know how you’ll do it? "Just see." She tapped the Playbook’s bulge in his bag. "You’re the addict, Gezza. I’m the cure."
She spun, skirt flaring, and vanished between the stacks. Dust motes resud their slow suicide in the slanted light.
Gezza stood alone, phone dark, Mike’s sneer still burning in the glass. The library door groaned shut behind him—final, like a coffin lid.
Tonight, The Vault.
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