Chapter 8
Cave
What belongs to no one until it is given?
What cannot be taken, only offered?
What can break and stay intact at the same time?
The husks have to be dry, not brittle or green, else they will split the moment you try to curve them. Dry and pliable is best. I peel the layers back from the cob slowly, needing to keep the outer husks whole.
I have woven husks before. Mainly for Cipher, or for practical reasons, like seat repairs or things with a function. This is a first, and it’s because she is mine.
I knew it the night I first saw her, when I watched her refuse to go down without a fight.
Again, when I pulled her against my chest and smelled her hair, then even more when she agreed to stay the night.
It’s in how she looks at me, like I’m worth the effort of understanding.
Few people look at me like that; most people stare or glance away, and I mostly prefer it that way.
I split the husk into strips and ply them between my fingers, testing the give as I start at the center.
Folding the first layer back on itself, I press the crease with my thumbnail to hold the shape while I build behind it.
The petals take patience. Each one must be opened out from the center and held in place while the next layer is set behind it, otherwise they will collapse.
Yet when they are woven the right way, the petals will remain open if they are bound tightly around the center.
I reach into my coat pocket for the small paper rectangle I stole from Cipher’s card stock earlier in the week. Cipher labels everything in his shed—drawers, shelves, even jars of screws sorted by size. I take the piece of charcoal from beside my post and write on the card.
Mine.
It’s the only word it needs.
I tie the twine around the stem, thread the card onto it, and tie the knot. Then I set the flower down and look at it.
Noa’s footsteps come from the direction of the main path, fast and uneven, his left foot heavier combined with the drag of his shovel.
He appears between the stalks a few seconds later, his makeup still half applied from the morning, a gray-white streak visible across one cheek.
He stops when he sees me watching him, then his eyes go straight to the flower.
“That . . .” he says, crouching down to look at it, “is beautiful.” He glances at the tag. “I love the flower—it’s amazing. But is it possible that the word on the tag is a little too much? Or too soon?” He stands up again.
I glare at him. How is it too much or too soon? Either way, the fact remains the same: she is mine. The sooner she knows, the easier this will be on everyone.
He holds both his hands up. “It’s not a criticism. I only want this to go well for you. Where’s Cipher? Cipher, back me up!” he yells.
“Not. Here,” I reply.
Noa blinks. “You spoke real words. Right, okay. That’s not a big deal, but I still want to hug you right now.”
A growl rips out of me. He can’t touch me. The sound makes him laugh and hold up his hands.
“Let’s go back to the flower. I think she will like it. Mine is a bold statement, but any woman interested in you will need to be bold. No offense, but in case you didn’t notice, you always look like a scarecrow. The outside world won’t get that.”
Cipher’s footsteps are never what I hear first; it’s the tinkling of the trinkets on his jacket that catch on the wind. He walks between the stalks and heads our way. Noa points to the flower, his excitable energy radiating off him.
“Nice,” Cipher says as he crouches down and picks it up. “Good structure.”
I knew it was, but his words make me smile.
I don’t care what many people think, but for some strange reason, from the moment I laid eyes on him, I cared about him.
Cipher doesn’t say much. It’s still more than me, but he is the polar opposite to Noa.
Cipher never needs to fill the silence, whereas Noa does.
He is lucky I like the sound of his voice, or I would have ripped his voice box out by now.
Cipher hands me the flower. “It’s time to shower.”
This was one of the conditions Nixie made when she hired me, and I refused to come out of the cornfield.
She insisted I come out to eat and shower.
Ares looks after feeding me, while Cipher became my personal reminder that I need to shower.
It’s not that I don’t want to shower, but sometimes I lose track of the time, and days can pass without me realizing.
Noa perks up. “Can I come? Not to shower with Cave, but I have nothing else to do.” When Cipher looks up at him, he continues, “I want to see all the new things you did to your workbench—I saw you rearranging everything.”
Cipher nods and walks away, with both Noa and me following behind.
The journey to the shed is filled with Noa breaking up the silence with random conversation, while Cipher and I keep our mouths shut as usual.
Cipher’s shed sits at the back of the island, and the trees get dense before we reach it.
That’s what I like about it, that it’s quiet here and no one ventures out.
The shed comes into view, and once we get inside, Cipher walks straight to the workbench. Noa follows him, talking Cipher’s ear off about the changes he has made and why they are so awesome. It doesn’t look much different if you ask me, except more things are labeled.
I place the flower on the workbench and pull Valli’s NDA out to join it, then move through to the part of the shed that was built for living.
There is a small kitchen, a bedroom, and a bathroom.
The shower is basic, and I barely fit inside, but it gets the job done.
The water runs cold for the first thirty seconds, so I take my time methodically stripping down and putting my clothes in the basket that Cipher has just for me.
Then I use the trash bin and dustpan to clean up the straw.
When the water turns warm, I step inside.
I normally don’t think about much when I shower, as it’s one of the times my mind stays quiet.
I enjoy the warmth and the smell of Cipher’s body wash.
Once I do what needs to be done, I get out.
Showering is tedious; I’m all for good personal hygiene, but once everything is washed, standing there seems pointless.
I push through the door that leads back into the shed as water drips from my body. My spare clothes are hanging on the makeshift clothesline Cipher has made.
Noa is seated at the workbench with a paper bag in his lap, eating something.
As I enter, he looks up at me, his eyes roaming my naked skin.
“Okay,” he says, his pitch higher than normal.
“I’m going to be honest, because I think it could get weird if I’m just staring at you naked.
You are a very big man, and that extends to all of you. You are proportionally right.”
I smirk as I walk to the clothesline, unpeg my clothes, and start getting dressed.
“So, I’m going to stop talking now,” Noa says, but doesn’t stop.
“I’m not sure someone as small as Valli can handle all that.
Like where would it go? And are you a grower or a shower?
Because you are already showing a lot. We should call you the cervix murderer.
And, oh, poor Cipher. When you stick it in his ass, he’d open his mouth to moan, and you’d see the tip. ”
I pull my shirt on and shake my head.
Cipher appears in the doorway with a handful of fresh straw, but he pauses as he looks between Noa and me, obviously picking up on the weird vibe.
“I feel like I need to high-five you,” Noa says to Cipher, whose brows furrow at not having the slightest clue what Noa is talking about. “I saw his cock by accident. He just waltzed out here in all his glory, and wouldn’t it be nice if we all looked like that naked?”
Cipher goes bright red when he finally works out what Noa is saying as he hands me the straw. I place it into the pockets Maggie made to hold it better and prevent it from itching my skin as much.
Noa watches me from where he is sitting, and I’m not sure how I feel about the way he is looking at me with increased interest.
I pick the flower up from where I left it and fist Cipher’s hair with my other hand, pulling his head back and leaning down to press my lips to his.
“Aww!” Noa gushes. “You two are so cute.”
I ignore him and release Cipher’s hair.
“You’re welcome,” he mutters, knowing that is my way of saying thank you for reminding me to shower.
If Noa wasn’t here, the outcome of that kiss may have been different, but him seeing me naked once today and the resulting commentary is enough.
I don’t need him to see me fuck and hear his thoughts on that.
After Noa went on and on about his time with her, I knew Valli would sign the NDA.
He wants to tell her so much—I can see the interest in his eyes—and she seems to like him.
But I don’t know how I will be able to share her with him.
I guess it’s a hurdle I will deal with when we get there.
You can only kill a person once and claim it’s an accident.
If he ends up dead . . . well, at least I can say I tried. For her.
Maybe that’s what people mean when they say someone changes you. I was always told there was nothing inside me worth saving. Maybe she will prove them wrong and show them all I really do have a heart.