Chapter Fourteen
Taliyah
Darla met us at the door with a wide smile on her face.
Cain’s class ring looked huge on her comparatively bony fingers. She had to wear it on her thumb to keep it from slipping off and rolling into a gutter somewhere, never to be found again. It made me nervous that the vessel holding my brother’s spirit could be snatched or smashed easily. Still, I shouldn’t have been ungrateful because I’d never expected to talk to my brother ever again. As a medium, Darla could give me even more time with Cain. The day was coming when he’d have to return to the afterlife, so I’d squeeze every ounce of time I could while it was still available.
“Darla,” Maverick acknowledged with a nod of greeting.
Darla let her hand slide up the doorjamb, striking what was supposed to be a provocative pose in the doorway. The sweatpants and t-shirt combo she wore robbed it of most of its effectiveness, though. I knew the clothing choice had been Cain’s. He hated wearing skirts, even vicariously. Darla teased him about it relentlessly. My brother wasn’t the most sexist cop I’d ever met, but I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t a little schadenfreude going on. Now he got to see how life was when the shoe was on the other foot. It was a learning experience for any man.
Darla wiggled her hips at us. It was so outrageous that I almost laughed. Exhaustion and worry quickly doused the urge. I wasn’t going to find much funny until my family was safe.
“How’d you know it was me, handsome? It could have been Mr. Grundy in the ring.”
“The smile,” Maverick answered. “Cain is never cheerful.”
“Ah, true. Come in then.”
She kept her voice pitched low so that the kids wouldn’t hear. It was a wasted effort. I could hear the boys snoring on the couch from here. They always snored like chainsaws when they got sick. It answered the only pressing question I had for Darla. They sounded about the same as when I’d left. Not worse, but not better yet. I asked the question anyway. I had to be sure.
“How are the boys?”
“Asleep,” she replied, the teasing expression slipping as we followed her through the front hall and into the living room.
Charlie was sleeping on his back, sprawled like a starfish under his favorite blanket. Sean had curled on his side, head propped by one of the throw pillows Wanda had made for me. She claimed my house didn’t ‘pop’ the way it should. I had a bad feeling that one day she and Fifi would form an evil coalition to completely remake my home in their own image.
“Did they eat supper?” I asked.
The questions sounded rote, a liturgy that fell automatically from my lips. They were inane questions really, but the answers meant a hell of a lot to me. I wanted... no... needed my kids to be okay.
“Some,” Darla said. “Not much of an appetite, though. Cain bribed them to finish their vegetables, at least. They stayed up an hour past bedtime watching cartoons. Is that okay?”
Normally, that kind of permissiveness might have earned them both a mild scolding. Routines were important in my house. It gave us all structure and that was comforting. But tonight, I’d let it slide. Cain was their uncle, and uncles were supposed to sneak your kids candy and let them stay up late. At least he hadn’t given them caffeine and let them play with water guns in the living room, the way our uncle had.
My smile was sleepy but genuine. “It’s fine. Don’t make it a habit, though.”
Darla snapped off a cheerful salute. “You got it, Mrs. Grundy.”
Mrs. Grundy was Darla-speak for someone being uptight and no fun. I could tell she didn’t really mean it this time around. She was trying to be a bit of sunshine during a hard time, and it was noble of her. It wasn’t her fault that I was padded with so much cynicism. But her optimism bounced right off my titanium-grade bad mood.
Darla teetered backwards in shock when I threw my arms around her and drew her into a hug. Even Maverick looked a little caught off guard when I did it. As a general rule, I didn’t go in for casual intimacy. It seemed silly, in retrospect. I hadn’t hugged Cain enough in life. So what if Darla and I weren’t as close as family? Cain was here and I could hug them both, thanks to her gift.
“Thank you both,” I whispered.
Darla’s hand patted my back awkwardly. It didn’t surprise me to see a little of Cain in her eyes when she pulled back. It was her voice when she spoke, but his inflection. I could see the minute differences in posture and expression.
“Are you okay?”
“No,” I answered, giving them a final squeeze before I let go. “But I will be.”
I had to believe that. I had to move forward with the assumption that I’d solve this. The alternative was too horrible to bear. It wasn’t just that I didn’t want to die. It was what my death would mean for the boys. They’d already lost their biological family. I wouldn’t rob them of a home a second time. Not if I could help it. Sean stirred fitfully when I ran a hand over his hair. He was damp with sweat and clammy to the touch.
My poor baby.
Mine. This was my family. I wasn’t giving them up without a fight. If that meant sending Astrid to Blood Rose, I’d do it. I hated myself for thinking it, but I would let her go back to save them—to save my children. I wouldn’t let her go in blind, of course. She’d have every protection and lifeline I could conceivably give her, but I was willing to die, to kill for these boys. I hated such a dark spot existed in my soul, but it did.
Then again, if I hadn’t had the darkness within me, Mav and I wouldn’t have been friends, and possibly more. The truth was: his soul was more stained than mine. He was capable of things I wasn’t.
Darla took her leave, and Maverick helped me move the boys back to their beds. Charlie woke just long enough to go to the bathroom, then shuffled back to his room like a zombie. No, scratch that. I knew zombies, and all of them moved faster than Charlie.
I hadn’t realized I’d been staring until Maverick cleared his throat. I turned halfway on the sofa, angling my body toward him. We’d been talking, but I’d cut off abruptly, watching my kiddo like a hawk until he was safely back where he should be.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Don’t be,” he said. “I like how dedicated you are to your kids. I never knew the feeling. It’s nice to see, even if it wasn’t aimed my way.”
It was frank statements like those that gave me an insight into how bleak his childhood had been. I’d been informed he was a jerk when he first came to the Hollow. After learning about his home life, I was surprised he hadn’t turned into a comic book villain. General douchebaggery was a far cry from evil. Neglect carved an empty place inside you, and nothing could fill it. Maverick was healing, but his mom had dealt him a permanent wound when she turned him out at eighteen. Her good reasons didn’t matter. He’d been hurt.
Maverick flinched when I touched his cheek with a whispered, “Mav...”
“Sorry,” he said, voice strained. “I didn’t mean to say it like that.”
“No. I’m glad kids are your priority, too. So many people perpetuate a cycle of abuse. It takes a lot of work to break a generational pattern. You protect kids. You love your family. You fight for them. I l...” My tongue stuttered over the word, altering it at the last second. “I like that. I like it a lot.”
Maverick kissed me.
No, that didn’t quite do the action justice. He lunged at me, capturing my face in his broad hands. He was surprisingly gentle, despite his haste. His lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me before I could stagger into that dreaded L word again. If I thought too hard about what was going on, I’d cry. I didn’t want to cry. I wanted this. Wanted his skin on mine, sponging all thoughts away.
I cursed my need to breathe. We both seemed set to see how close we could get to the edge before we sucked in ragged breaths. It wasn’t just that, though. There was a driving need for this. His hands on me. I’d been craving it longer than I was willing to admit.
Had been afraid of it for longer than I wanted to admit.
Jonathan had ruined more than just our marriage. He’d neutered my already limited ability to trust people. If you trusted someone, the betrayal just hurt that much worse. Maverick was far from perfect. He could screw up epically. Break my heart all over again.
A small voice in my head muttered the words that I’d been unwilling to say to myself until now.
So what? So what if he screws up? He’s human and thanks to him, so are you. He’s earned a little grace.
I leaned my head back, unwilling to let him see the tears gathering in my eyes. He’d take them the wrong way. Assume he was the one who’d given me a complex. He really was a softie when you got past his defenses.
Maverick’s lips roved across my jaw before trailing more searing kisses down my throat. I was ready to melt into the cushions. He paused when I spread my legs, just a little, angling our bodies closer. He was excited already, and we’d barely done anything. It was heady to know that just kissing me had this effect on him. It made me feel strong. Powerful. Beautiful.
“Tally...”
“I have protection in my purse,” I whispered. I couldn’t quite look him in the eye. I felt like a pot about to boil over. I wanted to do it with him inside me, making love to me, not keening in fear and grief on the floor.
To his credit, he didn’t argue with me. His weight vanished for a moment. I felt the absence like a toothache, dull and unpleasant. My heart beat a little faster when he didn’t return in seconds. He was back before my self-doubt could do more than nibble on me. I only caught a glimpse of something dark in his hands before he pressed something over my eyes.
The sudden plunge into blackness made me jerk in shock, and I couldn’t argue as he knotted something behind my head, fashioning a makeshift blindfold. The nimbleness of the maneuver spoke of experience. I wondered if I should be jealous of the prior women in his life but decided against it. He’d married me, not them.
“Mav,” I said when I could catch my breath. “What are you—”
“Shh,” he interrupted, lips grazing my throat again. Without the visual, the sensation was more intense. He had a five o’clock shadow that scraped deliciously against my skin when he talked. “Stay right there, Tally. Don’t move.”
It was mortifying how quickly the words heated my skin. I felt like a pulse point, hammering with excitement as he hovered just above me, tantalizingly close and yet so far away.
The image of pushing him to the ground, climbing astride him, and taking what I wanted was so visceral that I almost climaxed then and there. He must have read the expression on my face, because his chuckle tickled my skin.
He pinned me easily, and I let him, luxuriating in the feeling of his lean body caging mine against the cushions. I wiggled impatiently beneath him, trying not to whine as he peeled articles of my clothing off one by one. I’d never thought I’d be wishing for the clothes unraveling spell again, and yet here we were. No matter how much skin he bared, it never felt like enough. I cried out when he pressed his fingers into me, effortlessly finding the spot that made me scream. Which meant the bastard had gagged me, too.
It was sweet relief when he finally plunged himself into me, working himself in and out, riding my bucking body like a wave. He didn’t seem to mind when I raked my nails down his back, trying to find purchase. He shuddered above me, groaning my name like a prayer.
“God, Tally. You’re so beautiful.”
Under his hands, I felt beautiful.
I was glad he’d gagged me. Otherwise, I might have said the words aloud.
I love you, Maverick Depraysie. And that scares the shit out of me.