Chapter 24: The Librarian Watches and Learns

By Wednesday afternoon the soreness had faded to a dull memory.

I tested my throat with a glass of water, tilting my head back, letting the liquid slide down. No scrape. No burn. Just the cool swallow of relief.

Thursday morning I woke with the ache.

Not in my throat this time. Deeper. Lower. That familiar heat that pooled between my legs and pulsed with every heartbeat. I pressed my thighs together under the covers and thought about Friday night.

The week crawled.

Classes dragged. Homework blurred. I sat through dinner each night nodding at my parents’ conversations while my mind wandered to the red-lit booth, the hole in the wall, the strangers whose cocks I’d taken deep.

By Friday I was vibrating.

Dinner was pasta. My mother chatted about her garden. My father talked about a project at work. Normal. Mundane. But I saw the glances they exchanged, the quick squeeze of my mother’s hand under my father’s palm, the way his voice dropped lower when he said “we’ll be back around midnight.”

They didn’t bother hiding it anymore.

Or maybe they just didn’t think I noticed.

The front door clicked shut at 8:23. Their car started in the driveway, the sound fading down the street. I counted to sixty, then pushed back from the table and grabbed my keys.

The gas station across from Carl’s was busy. I pulled in, parked near the edge of the lot, and spotted my father’s sedan in the bookstore’s lot. The lights were off. They were already inside.

I crossed the street.

The bell jingled when I pushed through the door. Fluorescent buzz. That familiar smell, stale air, vinyl, something sweet and chemical. Carl looked up from his magazine and his face broke into that slow, knowing grin.

“Megan.” He said my fake name like it was a secret we shared. “I was hoping you’d come back.”

My heart hammered. “Hi, Carl.”

He leaned back in his chair, his eyes moving over me in a way that made my skin prickle. “You made quite an impression last week.”

“Did I?”

“Three men came up to the counter after you left. Couldn’t stop talking about you.” His grin widened. “They said your throat was something special. Hoped you’d come back.”

I felt a slow smile spread across my lips instead of a blush. They’d talked about me. A flicker of pride sparked in my chest, then caught fire. They hadn’t just used me and forgotten. They’d remembered. They’d gone to the counter and told Carl about the girl with the greedy throat and the eager mouth. A hot little thrill raced down my spine. I wasn’t just some anonymous hole in the wall to them. I was special.

“I liked it,” I said quietly. “The anonymity. Not being able to see them. Them not being able to see me. It made it easier to let go.”

Carl nodded slowly. “Same room as last time. Go on back.”

I pushed through the beaded curtain.

The hallway was dim, the red and green lights glowing above the booth doors. I found the familiar one, middle booth, two doors, the hole in the wall at waist height. I stepped inside and pushed the door shut.

It clicked, but didn’t latch.

I didn’t notice.