37. Meet Me Halfway
“ U gh. Where am I now ?” I rub my eyes, grumbling. “I keep waking up in new places…”
A delicious scent wafts in my nose as I shift. Maple, bourbon, and pine settle me.
Orion.
“You’re in our bed, baby.” He laughs hoarsely against my hair, and memories rush back in a sleepy haze.
Fleeing Whitby Rose. Going to Orion’s home on Fury land. I was a total zombie when we got to the gorgeous cabin by a lake, and this must be where I wound up after Orion led me inside. His bedroom. And not a cot. His. Bed .
Wait, no. He said our bed…
Butterflies take flight in my stomach only for it to instantly seize, writhing with cramps. I wince.
Ugh.
My psych gave me the okay to take my medicine, but I figured out pretty quick that I hadn’t needed to worry. Because after being drugged twice, getting kidnapped twice, losing my virginity one-point-five times, and nearly dying thrice over, of course I would get my period.
Pity party aside, I took my medicine and half-sleepwalked my way onto Orion’s chest. Somehow, I’m moderately clean and finally out of my Swan Lake outfit, wearing Orion’s comfy shirt instead. RIP the boxers he let me borrow, though, because Aunt Flo takes no prisoners.
“Mmm, an honest-to-God mattress,” I murmur lazily, one eye squinting open and landing on something I never thought I’d see again.
“Is that my bouquet?”
He shifts under me and nods. “We passed the car on the way back. Everything in it was burned up except them. I couldn’t resist stopping to grab it.”
The wildflowers and blush roses are dry, but no less gorgeous.
“Thank you,” I whisper, choking on all the emotion clogging my throat. I squeeze the rest of my gratitude into him. Until he groans.
My eyes snap open, and one look at him makes me groan.
“Oh my God, are you okay? Your bruises. They’re even worse!”
Everywhere he’s not tattooed, I see more bruised skin than healthy. I’m queasy thinking about the injuries hidden underneath his ink. He got these wounds fighting for his life. Fighting for me.
Fighting for us .
“I’m okay.” He grins, waving me off. “I bruise easier than a peach. I’ll heal by tomorrow.”
I roll my eyes and resist the urge to poke one, the thick bandage protecting his ribs making me feel guilty for even thinking it.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, sliding his hand into mine.
Jesus. Where to begin? It’s been one hell of a week. I’m banged up, in an ankle boot, and my head is killing me after taking my medicine for the first time in days. Orion nearly died saving me. We… killed people—something I’ll for sure have to unpack later.
And then there’s the worst part of all.
One of my friends died.
“Luna?” Orion prompts, tone laced with worry.
“Sorry, I’m trying to figure out how to answer that. My next therapy appointment is going to be one kick-ass soap opera season.”
“Just one season?” He snorts, then sobers. “Alright, fair. How do you feel after taking your medicine, though?”
“Pretty good. Not too groggy other than the usual headache after missing a couple of days. My mind seems… normal. Whatever that means.” I giggle. “How long did I sleep?”
“Fourteen hours, maybe?” He yawns. “It was still night when I carried you inside.”
My jaw drops. “Did I lay on you that entire time?”
His brows pull together in confusion. “Well, after you freshened up in the bathroom and got the ankle boot on… pretty much, yeah. Why?”
I scan his battered frame. “And you just laid like a mummy for fourteen hours straight while I slept?”
“Well, you did sleepwalk to the bathroom one more time. I had to help you there.” He winks.
“Ugh, embarrassing,” I grumble. “At least it wasn’t an outhouse this time.”
“Hey, just you wait. After squatting over a hole on a camping trip with me, that outhouse will look like something outta Southern Living .”
I sigh. “You’re right, you’re right… It wasn’t all bad.”
My fingers drift over his bare chest, trailing lazy patterns. “I think I already kinda miss it.”
His bent arm rests behind his head, getting more comfortable. “Yeah? Was it the outhouse or the moonshine that struck your fancy?”
I snort, dropping my gaze and focusing really hard on tracing his birthmark, avoiding the new cut while even more studiously avoiding mismatched eyes that see everything.
“I think it was you.”
The words leave me before I can second-guess them, and for a breath I want to snatch them back.
But they’re true.
It wasn’t the quaint cabin, the quiet peace, or even the adventure.
It was Orion that made me feel more at home than I ever have.
His soft gaze in the firelight, his gentle patience, our banter and steamy moments that’ll forever live rent-free in my head.
Even my fear felt different with him, charged and eager when I was at his mercy.
I’ve never felt more alive than after facing death with Orion.
So yeah, I already miss the good we had before everything went to hell. And maybe I’m scared that we may never get that back.
“The cove…” I continue, trying to explain in his silence. “It was scary, and strange, and every moment was a scene from an Appalachian horror romance. But it was quiet. And peaceful. And just… us. Ya know?”
I bite my lip as a couple of calm, weighted breaths go by before he squeezes gently, minding my scrapes and bruises. Then he presses a kiss to the crown of my head.
“Yeah, little bird. I know exactly what you’re talking about.”
I can’t see his face, but I swear I can taste those three big-little words he confessed before sacrificing himself for me at the chapel.
I should rip him a new one for that. He’d be burnt to a crisp if my dad hadn’t pulled him out. But I’ll let it slide for now. Besides, I technically did the same thing when I hurled myself off that pulpit and leapt onto him like a spider monkey. I’m sure he’ll have some choice words for me too.
So yeah, I’ll bask in the afterglow of Orion’s “I love you” instead.
“Your mom is on her way to Dark Corner,” he murmurs. “Nox went to go pick her up from the city.”
My heart twists twice. Once for Nox, for losing his best friend, killing to free me, and dragging me out of that chapel to save me. And then it aches again, because, after everything, there’s still something about a momma who can kiss any kind of hurt and make it better.
I almost share all that out loud, but I stop short, glad Orion can’t see my face. Not only can he not share that same joy with me, he also had a bomb dropped on him about his mom and his dad last night. I’m sure his brothers know by now. How are they dealing with it?
Jesus, what a mess. I need to ask my therapist if she does group specials.
“Good,” I answer simply. “It’ll be nice to see her.” Then, searching for anything else, I take in the room for the first time fully awake.
“So, we’re in your room,” I muse.
Smooth.
“Yup. And back on Fury land,” he says proudly. “Home.”
It’s comfy in the most heartwarming, cozy way. The bed is huge, with a light blanket over us, a thick quilt folded at the bottom for cold nights. Everything’s apple red, pine green, and rich woodsy brown, and it all smells deliciously like him.
“You built it, didn’t you?” I ask, knowing instinctively. This entire house screams Orion, especially this room.
His slow smile is all the answer I need, but he continues, “Our land’s been with us for generations.
The government or big business is always trying to ‘take it off our hands.’ Some beyond the mountain have had to sell off pieces to make ends meet, but we’ve been lucky enough for all of us to stay.
Our dairy farm does well, but our Fury… side jobs have done us good over the years too. ”
“Let me guess. You made your money in moonshine.”
He snorts. “Among other things. We’ve perfected our smuggling techniques. That and protection are my job. King’s the head of the family and our business dealings. Dash is focused on school. And Hatch… Hatch does a little bit of everything.”
Huh. Wonder what that entails. Not that my father’s much different.
“So if it’s King Fury land, where do they all live?”
“King lives at the top of the hill. My Grandma Fancy’s in a little mother-in-law suite off the back of that. You can’t see it from here, but out on the land, you can’t miss it. It’s Southern gothic meets European castle. Dash’s is almost its spitting image, with a tower and everything.”
“Dash has a house here too?”
He nods. “We each built our own. I built mine the summer before your eighteenth birthday. It’s more like a mountain cabin, as you can see. I… had a feeling that my future wife would like it.” I bite my lip as he juts his chin toward the picture window. “Especially with the view.”
I sit up on my elbow, and my jaw drops. We’re at least on a second story, so I can see far and wide.
Cows graze a green slope down to a shimmering lake that’s nestled between two “hills,” really mountains compared to flat New Orleans.
The water mirrors the yellow, red, and green autumn trees hugging the edge.
“It’s like the cabin,” I whisper, then wince at the last memory I have of it. “The best parts anyway.”
Earlier when I talked about our time together, I only had Orion in mind. Now with the view in front of me, more images come unbidden. I swallow and focus on the present.
“It’s gorgeous. You should be proud.”
“You should be too. It’s yours,” he says softly, raw vulnerability shining in the myriad of colors in his eyes. “If you want it.”
“If I want it?”
He holds his breath, then exhales. “You can leave. I won’t keep you here. But fuck, do I want you to stay.”
I gasp. “You’d let me leave?”
He nods. “Under the caveat that I’m still protecting you until my dying breath. But if I’m not the one you want at your side, I’ll do it from the shadows again. If you want to finally get your way…” He smiles ruefully. “Then I’ll grant you what you wished for in that tunnel. I’ll let you fly away.”
“I thought you said my wish would never come true?” My chest pounds. “You know, because I told you what it was?”