The Structural Silence (Book 1 of The Transition of Pinn Series)

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Checking (Chapter 36)

Giddean:

Even the baby birds squawking loudly outside can’t mess with my mood today.

I am on an enviable roll. I’ve read through the latest bill drafts, I’ve finally caught up on my correspondence, written half of my upcoming speech and I just got a letter from a major donor that he will be donating to my campaign again this year. He was apparently impressed with my speech on the temples, which makes me think maybe that whole fucking nonsense was worth it. Although I had to roll my eyes when I read about his devotion to the goddess - devotion my ass.

The early afternoon light streams into my office through the light stone walls and gives my office a cheery feeling. The remains of the simple sandwich I had for lunch lay on top of papers on my desk. It has returned to its normal state of chaos and I pity James for trying to organize it.

I am reading an old speech to see if I can reuse it with just a bit of editing, when I hear a knock on the door. James pops in the doorway, knowing that I am sitting here doing some work by myself.

“Yes James” I say not looking up from my papers. I can’t let anything disrupt my concentration. I have to keep up the streak for as long as I can.

“Uh…. I just received a message from your mother…” He begins.

“And?”

“She claims Ivy canceled on her”

“And?” I say a little impatiently still scribbling on the paper.

“Sean says that Ivy hasn’t left her room all day.”

I take a deep breath and look up at James standing timidly next to the door, “And?”

“Well, he’s worried.”

“Of course he is…” I mutter.

“Adjusting has been hard on her and she’s been acting strange”

“Did anybody check on her?”

“Well… um… Sean talked to her briefly this morning. He is the one that cancelled with your mother”

I set my pen down and begin to rub my temples, “Well if you are worried just check on her again.” I like James, I really do. And that must be the only reason I still employ him. He has the bad habit for a secretary of making my life more difficult.

“Well we thought that you should do that… you know… show some interest, spend some time with her”

I give him a look. He is getting too comfortable here and forgetting that he is an employee, not a friend. It’s my fault- having drinks with him confuses him. I’ve blurred the line too much and now I am paying for it.

I should tell him to do his job and just go check on her, but I’m growing soft.

I’ve also lost my concentration which pisses me off.

I growl under my breath as my chair protests at my abrupt standing motion. In doing this I also slam my knee on my desk causing me to growl further. For fucks sake, it had been going so well.

And now I am slightly limping as I walk around my desk and attempt to storm out the room. James jumps out of the way as I near him. I almost roll my eyes at his sheepishness.

I storm down the hallway but quickly lose my irritation and so begin slowing to a brisk walk. I know James means well. And I know I should put more effort into getting to know in my new housemate…

I reach the door to her room and rap on the wood. I get no response but hear some ruffling inside. I knock again, but I get nothing, so I slowly turn the handle and walk in.

Standing near the middle of the room facing the closet it Ivy. She stops mid-stride and turns towards me, eyes wide in shock. She is wearing almost nothing, just some small panties, nothing covering her perky breasts but her arm which she has used as a vain attempt to cover herself.

Fuck me, but I cannot help but stare. The curves that I had only gotten glimpses of are now bare before my eyes. Her thick brown hair is piled up messily on her head. Her skin is a light tan with a few freckles here and there. There is a small birthmark on the side of her stomach. I want to run a finger slowly down her slim neck, over her collar bone and down to her plump breast. I want to caress her soft stomach and grip her wide hips. I want to trail my hand up her lush thighs and cup her most intimate spot.

But I see red. Small tiny rivers of blood running down her legs. Smeared on her thighs. Dripping on the floor.

It isn’t the dampness, nor the sound of stifled moaning. No, it was the scent of copper that came in heavy waves as I entered the room.

The darkness concealed what I needed so badly needed to see. I grabbed the damp blanket and slowly peel it back. It’s there, soaking the sheets, flowing, congealing, smearing.

“No no no no” she whimpers to herself.

It pulls me from my trance and I stare into her wide doe-like eyes. I can’t let her bleed out. I can’t.

“Help!” I yell as loudly as I can, hoping that someone hears me. I rush to her side and wrap her in my arms and lift her off the ground. She shouldn’t be walking around in this condition. She feels small, tiny, frail in my arms as I swiftly carry her to the bed.

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