SIXTY-FOUR

HAYDEN

He raised Lolita’s arm to his face, inhaling deeply. The infected flesh struck a chord of excitement in his heart. He liked seeing her this way; helpless and needy of his touch. She moaned in her sleep, trying to detach her arm from his grip. She was in too much pain, enough for her to escape into her dreams.

He hated it when she tried to run from her problems, seeking solace from her delusions. Did she not see him enough? Did she not see that he loved her? A pang of fury crossed his eyes. Did she wish her lover was there, waiting patiently for her so they could have meaningless talks about the future? He wanted to yank her away from those dreams, to bring her back to reality so she could see his face again.

“What are you doing?” Tessa asked quietly behind him. “Did you just smell her?”

He nodded, and then kissed her arm where he had drawn the tattoos. “They’re infected. Call the doctor.”

“No.”

He turned slightly to look at her. “No?”

“You pay her too much attention. She’s goin