Chapter 32 Chapter Thirty-Two

Ferry sat up on the bed, the desire to make love was so strong that he couldn't even pour vodka into the glass.The bottle was shaking, the glasses were shaking, damn it, the whole mattress was shaking. He looked at Vishows, who sat beside him with his back against the headboard.The brother, too, was hunched over, looking slumped, nodding along to 50 Cent's "Carnage." It had been five hours since Bella's heat, and the two of them felt a mess.There was almost only instinct left in the body, and the fog in the head was also foggy.Being forced to stay in the mansion didn't change a thing, the demands of that desire held them tight and drugged them.Thank goodness these "red smokes" and Gray Goose vodka, which numbed the senses, helped somewhat.

Dear God...the two of them, staying together, going through it again and again... "How are you?" Wei Xiaos asked. "Probably about the same as you, my brother." He drank the wine in the glass in one breath, his body seemed to be swimming, lost in the sensation of love and desire that plagued his whole body.His gaze turned to the bathroom. He was about to get up and seek some time to settle his privacy, but Wei Xiaos said: "I think I have trouble." Ferry could only pretend to smile: "This matter won't last forever." "No, I mean... I don't feel right about myself."

Ferry narrowed his eyes.The brother's face was tense, but other than that, there was nothing unusual.The handsome lines, the goatee under the lip, the dizzying tattoo on the right temple.Those diamond-like eyes were still sharp, undisturbed by too much Gray Goose vodka, tobacco, and lust.The extremely dark and bright pupils shone with a vast, hard-to-decipher wisdom light, and that power was so powerful that it could even make people insane. "What kind of question, Vi?" "I, uh..." Wei Xiaos coughed a few times, "Only Butch knows, don't tell anyone, okay?"

"Well, no problem." Wei Xiaosi touched the goatee: "My premonition seems to have run out." "You mean, you can't see..." "What's going to happen. Well, I can't see anything now. The last time I got a message was three days ago. When Asa went to rescue Bella, I saw them both in the Ford sedan, going here On. After that, there's... nothing." "You've never encountered anything like this before?" "No, and I can't hear anyone anymore now. It's like my entire power is drained." In an instant, Wei Xiaos expression became very stiff, as if out of...fear.Hell, Wei Xiaos should be afraid.Of all the brothers, Weishaus was the one who was never afraid, just as his brain was born lacking neurons for receiving fear.

"Maybe it's only temporary." Ferry reassured, "Or, do you think Havers might be able to help?" "This has nothing to do with physiology." Wei Xiaosi finished the vodka in the glass and held the glass in his hand, "Don't take the bottle away, my brother." Ferry had to hand him the wine: "Maybe you can have..." with who?Who can a man who knows everything like Wei Xiaos turn to for answers? Wei Xiaos shook his head: "I don't want... I don't want to talk about this. In fact, it's better to forget what I said." While he looked serious and frowned, he poured wine, "I'm sure the ability will come back. I I mean, yes, it will."

He put the bottle on the table beside him, and raised his gloved left hand: "At least, this damn thing is still as bright as a desk lamp. Before this annoying night light disappears, I think I Let's just say it's normal. Well... I mean normal for me." There was a silence between the two.Ferry stared at his glass, Vishaws at his.The rap music in the background music was replaced by the song of the G-unit band, and the rhythm was played vigorously. Ferry cleared his throat. "Can I ask you about them?" "About whom?" "Bella and Sadiste." Wei Xiaosi scolded: "You have to know, I'm not a crystal ball. Besides, I hate to describe what will happen in the future."

"Well, sorry, forgot what I just said." There was another long silence.Then, Wei Xiaosi replied in a low voice: "I don't know what will happen between them. I don't know, because... I can't see anything." Butch got out of the Escalade, looked at the messy apartment building, and still couldn't understand why John wanted to come back here.Seventh Avenue is chaotic and dangerous. "Is it here?" After the boy nodded, Butch raised his hand and turned on the siren in the SUV.He wasn't worried about the car being ransacked when he left.The hooligans hanging around will think that some of their drug bosses, or some big shot they can't afford to talk to, is sitting in the car.

John walked up to the resident's door and gave it a push.The door opened with a "squeak" and there was no chain at all.Butch, who was following behind, was taken aback, and put one hand in his coat pocket in case of emergency, and he could grab the gun at any time. John turned left and walked down a long corridor.It's almost as cold here as it is outside, reeking of lingering smoke and rotting must.The inhabitants here are like mice, who can't see anything, only hear voices coming from the excessively thin walls. The boy went all the way to the end and pushed open the fire escape door.

Trot along the stairs to the right, footsteps torturing the wooden stairs.I don't know how many floors away, there is the sound of water droplets falling. Holding on to the loose railing attached to the wall, John walked slowly down until he stepped on the platform between the second and third floors.High above the fluorescent sun sinks into the roof, like a shining stage.The pipe swayed, as if doing everything in its power to keep it going. John stared at the battered linoleum on the floor, then up at the window.The window was streaked radially, as if it had been hit by a bottle.The barbed wire affixed to the window was the only reason the dilapidated window didn't actually shatter.

Upstairs there was arguing, swearing, machine-gunning all kinds of obscenities that would undoubtedly lead to a fight.Butch was about to speak and suggested that the two should leave, but John had already turned around and trotted down the stairs. The two returned to the car, and within a minute and a half, the two had already driven away from this miserable city block. Butch stopped at the traffic light: "Where are you going?" John wrote a few words, then shook the notepad. "Going home?" Butch muttered, still not understanding why the kid was looking back at the stairwell.

Walking into the house, John and Wells greeted each other casually, and walked straight to their room.He was thankful Wells seemed to know he needed some privacy.He closed the door, threw the notepad on the bed, threw off his coat, and headed straight for the shower.While waiting for the water to heat up, he began to undress.The moment the water flowed down, his body stopped shaking. After washing, he came out of the bathroom, put on a T-shirt and tight trousers, and turned to the laptop on the table.Sitting down in front of the computer, he thought maybe he could write something as the doctor suggested. God.. talking to her about that experience was almost as bad as going through it all over again.Moreover, he wasn't going to confess the whole story, but in the end... twenty minutes later, he surrendered.His hand began to write quickly, and all the story experiences began. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the appearance of the man blocking him, but only vague and illusory images appeared in his mind, but he still clearly remembered the shape of the knife: twelve centimeters long, double-edged folding knife, There is also a sharp bulge. He flicked his index finger on the touchpad of the laptop, and the Windows XP screen saver flashed by, and there was a new email from Sarah in his mailbox.He read it three times before replying. Finally, he replied: Hey Sarah, I can't be online tomorrow night.I am really sorry.I will find you when I have time.Let's talk about it next time.john. Seriously, during this time...he didn't want to see her again.He didn't want to see any women except Wells, Mary, Beth, and Bella.There wasn't even an iota of sex involved, it was just a need to accept and get over the trauma Momo had experienced about a year earlier. He moved to his Hotmail mailbox and opened a new Word document. The fingers just stay on the keyboard for a moment, and then start flying.