It was her own, fucked-up lullaby, Sophie thought, and it always had been. It was the music of her childhood, an earsplitting rumble that should have shattered windows instead of warming her heart, and it was perfect for today. Today. Her father’s funeral, whether she liked it or not. She was dressed and ready. She’d been awake since much earlier this morning, when Ajax had brought her out of a deep, dreamless sleep with a driving intensity that had worked its own kind of shattering—but she couldn’t think about that. About him and how he fit against her and inside of her, and how tempted she was to tell herself stories about what that meant. His dirty laugh right there against her ear, its own kind of engine as he’d thrust himself deep into her, again and again. His harsh whisper at her ear, his knowing commands— But she couldn’t let herself think about anything but what she had to do to get through this day, or she was terribly afraid she wouldn’t get through it at all.
