Monday, February 27, 2017


Reginald Bones 3


She needed some damn Ibuprofen and a hot shower before taking on this shit.

She spotted a robe hanging on the bathroom door as she relieved herself. Good, she didn't have to make a trip to the bedroom.

She reached behind her for the roll of tissue and absently wrapped her hand slowly with, feeling like she needed sixteen more hours of sleep. Finishing her business, she stood and flushed the toilet, staring at the tissue, swimming in a circle before disappearing.

She dropped the sheet and turned to the shower, putting a hand on the tub before slowly leaning for the hot tap. Grunting, she fought to turn it on, finding she didn't have the strength. She reached with two hands, trying again. "Oh my God," she whispered annoyed, pushing off the tub and looking around. She grabbed the bottle of shampoo and banged it on the handle several times then tried to turn it again. She nearly fell in the tub when it released it's hold. "Booooones," she growled, climbing in the tub. "Bet you tightened it like that on purpose."

She finally closed the curtain and stood like a lump of misery while the heavenly spray, loved her up. Whatever she did about Bones and X, she’d need to do it carefully. The biggest reason she wanted to tell Bones about X was because he thought he was doing bad things at night. And well… technically he was, but… not like he thought. Or remembered.

She turned slowly, facing the hot water. A shudder rolled through her muscles, nearly making her swoon. A scary thought hit her and she sobered. What if X was bad? What if he had ill-intentions for her? For Bones? Was that even possible? Did personalities do that? Try to harm their host?

She quickly finished washing up, ready to hit his computer while she could. Way too many questions and zero answers. That needed to change as quickly as possible.


Bones shook his head, staring at the stereo sitting there on the shelf, right where it needed to stay. What the fuck did he need a stereo for? If Reginald was there, Bones could see him considering getting it. “You need to loosen up. Live a little, be more normal. This is a safe way to do that.”

Bones grabbed the box off the shelf and headed to the counter with it. His need to buy random, odd shit was at an all time high. Thank you Reggie. Thank you for letting me be normal and take care of all your shit. You little prick.

This was definitely his doing. If Reginald wanted to get out of all this, fine, why not just say so? Why be a fucking pussy and just up and leave?

Bones paid for the stupid thing, tired of arguing with a dead man. Yeah, that’s right, Reggie. Dead, I said dead. You got a problem with it? Too fucking bad, you’re not here, so it’s none of your business now.

As he headed out of the electronics store, he slid his shades over his eyes, blocking out the blinding noon sun and any eyes. The next stop would be the most torturous. A department store. But fuck if he was going another second with her sharing anything of theirs. She was far enough under his skin as it was. Like a stage four cancer, devouring everything in its sick, greedy path.

She needed her own shit. Her own space. Clyde was scheduled to start renovations on the shed tomorrow. He’d get her out of the air he breathed and away from their things. She’d said it herself. She was confused. This would clear her head. And his. He had enough shit to think about with Reginald playing hard to find, he didn’t need her distracting him. Her being around wasn't bringing Reginald back. If anything it would keep him away. He wouldn’t be the cheating brother.

God, how the fuck did she manage to do this to them? Why why why did he let Reginald talk him into allowing her into their lives?

“Why didn’t you listen,” Bones muttered, throwing the bag onto the truck seat and climbing in. “You just had to have her. Look what she did,” he grit, starting the engine.

He met the gaze of a slim brunette climbing out of her car across from where he parked. She aimed the seductive tilt of her red lips right at him. Before his stomach could finish turning, an idea hit him.

Model- Jonny James

Catch Up NOW!



I’m a husband and author, and I may be a little religious about both. I like writing gritty sex and encapsulating it in the delicate, white silk of devotion, commitment, and possibly the psychotic obsession of lovers. 

And I wouldn't mind if I inspire people to this lost phenomenon with my scribblings.



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