บททั้งหมดของ COLOURS OF THE DEVIL: บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

PEBBLES' POVI sat in the waiting area, glowering at the black-framed clock that was perched on the wall to my left. My eyes scrutinized the second hand, which seemed to taunt me by moving oh so slowly. I peeled my eyes away from the time, silently vowing to myself not to look at it anymore as it was only elevating my impatience—but who was I kidding? I fixed my hands on my knees to stop them from shaking every five seconds, with my eyes still glued to the face of the clock. I knew I told Bradley earlier that I wasn't nervous, but the moment I stepped through the bubblegum-pink door, my heart rate escalated. I worked my palms to collect the pellets of sweat from my forehead, and then I wiped them on my jeans. I then rested my palms once more on my trembling knees.The sound of a door creaking caught my awareness. My head spun so fast, I was positive my neck would be sore for days to come. A tall, slender lady in her mid-thirties half-stepped from the opened door. Her pretty green bug-

PEBBLES' POVJUNE 13, 2009Summer came cruising along, bringing with her intense heat. I did not mind; I embraced the warmth. That was one factor I missed about Florida; its climate. “Good morning,” I greeted Thomas and Bradley. They were relaxing on the lawn.“Morning, Pebbs," Thomas smiled.“Morning, Pebbles," Bradley's face settled into a grimace. “What on earth are you wearing?”“It's a booty shorts.” “I can see that. But do you have another one that covers all of your booty?”Thomas and I laughed at Bradley's protectiveness.“OK, Dad. I'll go change," I said mockingly. “Perfect. Remember, Blake and I are leaving for the weekend. Will you guys be OK?”Bradley and Blake had been dating for over a month now. I found it awkward at first, but she didn't treat me like a patient outside our sessions or mention things to cause me discomfort. She was very professional, and I respected her for that. Ace and I still couldn't take the images of Bradley going down on her in the living room

*TRIGGER WARNING: A FORCED ORAL SEX SCENE AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER. IT'S NOT VIVID, BUT STILL, YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.*Vanessa struggled to open the door barred by her housemates' cluttered objects; dirty shoes, crates, and umbrellas. Mary had to wedge her way inside, by pushing in her shoulder first. “This is preposterous," she mumbled as she stubbed her big toe on a box at the entrance. “Who lives like this?” She questioned, turning up her nose at the mountains of mess situated at each corner of the minuscule living area/dining room/kitchen. Mary gasped when she realized the three sections occupied one tiny space.“Welcome, Mrs. Dickson — please have a seat,” Vanessa gestured to the shabby old sofa.Mary took one glance at the overly used item and scorned. “I'd rather not. That thing looks like it's a nest for a few rats and roaches, plus I can see and smell the dirty sex from here. I think I'll stand.”Vanessa's mouth hung wide. She was stunned at the elderly woman's rudeness, but

ACE'S POVAUGUST 1ST, 2009I glared at the body lethargically sprawled on the sofa. She was asleep and drooling like a Bernese Mountain Dog; one that had rabies. I sulked, unable to locate the same admiration Pops held for Mom when she carried me in her womb.I recalled Pops telling me how beautiful Mom was while I grew inside her. How majestic her dark tresses were, how radiant her smile had been, how fascinated he was by her hormonal fluctuations, and how he couldn't keep his hands off her. He informed me that his sexual desires hit the Milky Way every time he saw her.But staring at the heavily pregnant Vanessa, I didn't notice an ounce of spark. All I could picture was Shrek with long hair and acne. A sound of an inflating balloon snapped me from my trance. “What was that?” I questioned myself, glancing around the area, seeking to pinpoint where the noise came from. And then, my nose cracked the mystery when the smell of rotten eggs penetrated my nostrils, and my eyes watered from

ACE'S POVA circus of thoughts was swirling through my mind while I ran like an insane person who was working to escape from the sanatorium. The stink of antiseptic mixed with sweat and bleach stained the air as I scurried to get to Vanessa. ROOM 212. I stood clutching my chest while squeezing my eyes shut, struggling to calm my breathing. I was nervous — fuck that — I was terrified. Grandma told me over the phone that Vanessa lost a lot of blood, she sounded disturbed.“If anything happens to my baby or Vanessa, I will never forgive myself."I wiped my sweaty palms on my trousers and with nervous hands; I twisted the doorknob and nudged the door open. It creaked, causing three sets of eyes to focus my way.Vanessa was there, perching on the double mattress; her back being cushioned into a sitting position by three pillows, and Grandma was holding her hand for comfort. I barely noticed the person sporting a white coat and holding the clipboard. “Vanessa —” But before I could ask her