13. To Ease Your Doubts
13
To Ease Your Doubts
Theron
She’d woken up, wet and aroused from a dream of me and simply couldn’t deny it anymore. She was giving in to her desires, letting herself admit that on some level she wanted this. She wanted me.
“Would you really thank me, Theron? If I wrapped my hands around your throat until you were gone, your blood on my lips, would that be how you want to go?”
“Yes,” I answered honestly as my cock throbbed. “Fuck yes.”
I could hear her breathing hard on the other end of the line. Was she touching herself up there, staring down at me with my voice in her ear? Touching and caressing the very pussy I had smeared my cum across earlier this evening as she dreamt of me?
“And you?” I asked quietly as her face came into view. She was glowing under the security light, emerald eyes shining. “How would you want to go?”
She was quiet for a while, and I thought maybe I had taken it too far. Her own mortality was something she thought of often, and I was an ass for bringing it up, but then she responded.
“In a big chair, by a window that overlooked the ocean,” she whispered like it was her greatest secret. “I’d be old and gray, with an open copy of some Jane Austen book in my lap while a fire popped and glowed in the corner. I wouldn’t be in pain anymore, and I’d feel ready to go.”
My heart jumped into my throat, and at that moment, I made a promise to myself and god that I’d make that dream reality. I’d live to see her old and gray in a house by the sea.
“Let me up, little rabbit,” I said quietly into the phone. She was silent, and I pressed. “We had a deal, and I know you haven’t eaten yet.”
“Okay,” she responded, sounding unsure of herself.
I took the steps up to her apartment two at a time and waited as she unlocked the door I easily could have opened myself — feeling like a schoolboy picking up my date. I was mildly disappointed to see that she had thrown on a robe, but the stray curls were still framing her beautiful face that were flushed pink from our salacious conversation washed that away.
“Hi,” she said quietly as her face heated to an ever deeper shade of scarlet. She took a tentative step back, and I moved into the apartment slowly so I didn’t scare her.
“Go get dressed, Ever. Let me take you out to eat.”
Her brows furrowed, but she relented and walked to a dresser, where she pulled out a pair of leggings and a sweater dress that was virginal white. Fuck – I wanted to rip it off with my teeth, and she didn’t even have it on yet. She gave me a passing glance as she stepped into the bathroom, pausing for a moment before she closed the door.
“Theron?”
“Yes?”
She worried her bottom lip, fingers clinging to the doorframe like a life raft. “Are you telling the truth? About being able to get me a new heart?”
“I wouldn’t lie about such things,” I said, keeping my voice and expression soft. “The moment I find a match, it’s yours.”
And fuck did I hope I found one soon. I’d been researching and scouring for days, cross-referencing hospital records for someone who be a good fit. I wouldn’t give her just any heart — it had to be pristine and unmarred. I made a request to my contacts in New York, but they were loaded down more than I was. Doctor Faust, who ran the organ center, knew that I’d put this in as a personal request, but even he couldn’t make a heart appear out of thin air.
Ever nodded, looking up at me now as if I had given her a second chance. Hope. She closed the door softly, and I sighed. She truly was like a rabbit — one wrong move or loud noise, and I was afraid she’d be running for the hills. I moved across the living room, emptying her off-the-street painkillers into my pocket before replacing them with one that would work better with her beta-blockers. They weren’t as strong as Vicodin, but they wouldn’t put a strain on her heart.
I’d meant to do it when I came over this afternoon, but things got a little carried away. I could still smell her on my face, and I let my tongue run across my lips in hopes of catching the taste of her again.
Ever stepped out of the bathroom, her hair braided over her shoulder while stray curls framed her delicate cheeks. The dress came down just past her knees, made of white cotton and lace that looked far too delicate on her — like an offering to a hungry god. The neckline swept across her breasts, and in contrast to her dark curls, it was like snow. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, but not that she needed it. She was beautiful either way.
“We could just skip dinner, and I could tell you all the ways I want to ravish you?” I smiled as a blush spread across her face. She did that often, and I enjoyed watching her cheeks warm with color.
She slipped on a pair of Hunter boots, perfect for the rain, and smirked. From her wild hair, doll-like dress, and dark green water galoshes that matched her eyes, she was magnificent.
“Doctor’s orders, I need to eat.”
I hummed, following her out of the apartment and taking the umbrella from her hand. She had adorned a long, black waterproof jacket before we walked out of the door, and I pulled the hood up over her head. I made sure to keep myself close as she slowly walked down the stairs, my arm ready to jot out and catch her if needed.
“We’ll have to take the T, but it’s a short walk from the orange line to the restaurant.” I stuck out my elbow in an invitation, and she eyed it warily.
I smirked. “I can’t promise I won’t bite, but I can assure you’ll like it when I do.”
She made an exasperated noise that had my chest tightening but looped her arm through mine anyway. We rode the train to North Station, and from there it was a quick walk to Little Italy, where I had a perfect place in mind. I watched as her eyes lingered on the pastry shop down the street and made a note to stop in before the night was over.
Stepping inside the brownstone Italian restaurant with Ever on my arm was something out of my dreams, but the fact that she didn’t have mascara running down her face and bite marks on her neck meant that I was still in the waking world. It was an upscale place, with white linen tablecloths and a wine list a mile long. We wouldn’t be partaking though in a sweet Cabernet, though, as Ever’s continuously growing pile of medication was not pair well with alcohol.
Once seated, I peered over my menu at her, enjoying the view of this stunning woman at my table. “So, little rabbit, what made you decide to come out tonight? Have I really worn you down?”
She looked up at me through long lashes and a dark brow pitching upward. Her menu dropped, and she leaned her elbow on the table with a tired expression. “I came to the conclusion that you were never going to relent, and being with you is probably safer than being locked in an apartment with my own waning psyche. If only a little,” she added with a knowing look.
“I don’t know about that, rabbit,” I responded with a smirk as her glare tore through me. She was thinking rapidly behind those pretty green eyes — thoughts battling to get out, but she couldn’t let one win. “Many would consider me an incredibly unstable and dangerous man.”
She rested her cheek against her palm, her other hand making a lazy circle around her water glass as the restaurant around us murmured like a dull radio in the distance. All I could focus on was her. “Who’s heart will you be giving me?” She asked in a hushed voice, though she didn’t look concerned.
Ever was approaching everything methodically, weighing out her risks and finding herself wanting more. I still needed to tread carefully to not scare her off. She might have a brave face on for me now, but it could be dropped in an instant if pushed. We were in a family restaurant, surrounded by groups who smiled and laughed with loved ones. A completely average night in the North End, with the sound of silverware clanking against fine porcelain. It wasn’t the most expensive place in town or requiring formal attire, but it was a quiet and elevated place to come for dinner. An unsuspecting location for this sort of tawdry conversation.
“Someone who doesn’t deserve it,” I offered her cautiously. “You won’t be taking the organ of a single mother or school teacher if that’s what you’re wondering.”
Ever wore a mask of indifference, her finger only briefly pausing on the rim of her water glass before she continued her anxious tick. I extended my leg out under the table, resting my foot beside her’s and gently nudging to break her train of thought.
“Do you do this often?” She asked, and it caught me off guard.
I blinked. “Dating or illegal organ transplants?”
Her jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. “Both,” she said as she kicked my foot away from hers.
I pursued my lips to hide my smile. Ever was someone who didn’t want to be special, but she certainly didn’t want to feel used or like a box being checked. Hearing her be honest about her desires over the phone earlier was like the sun coming out after a long winter, the birds chirping, and the promise of life being on the horizon. She quickly went back into her shell after, but it was pleasing to know she could be coaxed out on occasion.
“I’ve never been interested in a woman like I am with you before. I’m not really the dating type.”
“Just stalking,” she interrupted with a curl of her lip.
“And as for organ transplants — ” I cocked my head to the side with a grin, ignoring her last comment intentionally. “I’ve done my fair share.”
“You’re a surgeon from a reputable family and incredibly handsome. Women must throw themselves at you.” Ever declared as she sat back in the chair and allowed her jealousy to show.
She had moved past the idea of serial killing quickly, sticking to the idea of me being involved with other women. Interesting, but not surprising. Ever needed to be wanted — desired in a way that fed her teenage hunger for attention while keeping me at a safe distance. So long as her heart wasn’t involved, she felt safe. I wouldn’t let her keep the beating organ for long.
“Do a little research on my family, have you?” I asked with interest. Of course, in the age of the internet, there was plenty she could see about my medical school and father, but I wasn’t on social media, and my brothers weren’t particularly newsworthy.
She shrugged. “Just your last name and the fact that your father was also a surgeon who’s now retired from a private practice. Is medicine a family business?”
“Something like that,” I confirmed right before the waiter came to take our order.
Ever and I ate in relative silence as the restaurant hummed around us, but it was pleasant. We were both so accustomed to being alone that a quiet meal wasn’t out of the ordinary, though I preferred having her here with me. I’d shared the family meals over the years or ate next to Tabitha while we observed a patient, but never had I taken a woman out to eat with me. It always seemed far too intimate, and I avoided such affairs with others.
Stepping out of the restaurant and grabbing pastries from the cannoli shop around the corner, I started pulling her down the street. She had a ricotta square pinched between her fingers with powdered sugar lining her lips, and I wanted to lick her clean. Ever’s face lit up with joy when she looked at all the Italian pastries she could ever possibly want — a kid in a candy store.
“Haymarket is the other way,” she argued as I took her free hand and walked down a quiet side street. There were still others out on the sidewalks, coming back from restaurants or moving from bar to bar. There were very few times of the year that Little Italy would be considered desolate, and this evening wasn’t one of them.
“There’s something I want to show you first, and then I promise I’ll take you home if that’s what you wish.”
She looked skeptical but let me drag her down North Street until we stood outside of a brownstone with a door the color of her eyes. I’d repainted it a few days ago, knowing that it was the only color I could have come home to again. The bronze sconces flickered a warm glow across the wet pathway. Empty window boxes sat torment, waiting for spring. I’d fill them with clovers.
When I took out my keys, she stepped back nervously. “This is your house?”
I nodded, opening the door and looking down at slim but proud figure. She was firmly planted on the sidewalk, glancing around to see what sort of witnesses would see her waltzing into my townhome. The half-eaten pasty was still in her hand, eyes wide, and I thought she was the cutest thing I’d ever seen. Her boots were glued to the sidewalk, sugardust on her coat.
“If I was going to kill you, my home would be the last place I’d do it,” I said with a small smirk, hoping to melt her armor and let me in as she had earlier.
“Why?” She asked quickly with a pitch to her voice. “What’s stopping you?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because it’d be the first place the cops would look. We just had a very public dinner a block from here, and we’ve been seen together at the hospital — I’d make the suspect list if you were to go missing.”
“You’re hardly reassuring,” she squeaked but took a tentative step closer. “What did you want to show me?”
“Be brave, little rabbit. I promise it’s not indecorous.”
She raised her chin and then slowly ate the rest of her pasty one bite at a time. She held my gaze as she bit into the ricotta square, licking her lips as I salivated from my doorstep. It took all my restraint to stay on the steps, death-gripping the doorframe.
When she was finally done, she climbed the brick steps, but before she entered, my thumb swept across her bottom lip to catch the stray powdered sugar. I froze when she caught my thumb between her teeth, nipping at it none too gently before releasing. I brought it to my lips as she watched me, hunger swimming in those clover-field eyes. I sucked my thumb into my mouth and groaned as I tasted her mixed with the sweet sugar.
“Vixen,” I hissed before stepping aside and allowing her to enter. I caught her arm as I closed the door, and she looked surprised when I pushed a small pocket knife into her hand. “To ease your doubts, Ever.”
A dark eyebrow arched up, and she looked down at the red blade that my father had given me for my twelfth birthday. It was something I prized and always kept on my person. “And what if I decide to stab you in the back and be done with all this bother?”
I smirked and leaned over the small woman as her eyes grew wide once more. My fingers held onto hers as I flipped open the blade and guided it up to my neck. I could feel her hand trying to pull away as she gasped, but I pressed the razor edge firm to my skin with a smile.
“Stabbing someone in the back is impractical, and you’re more likely to hit something entirely unvital. If at any time tonight you feel the urge to free yourself from my company, it is my neck that you should aim for, darling rabbit. But as I said — ” a groan escaped me when she was finally able to yank herself free from me and drop the blade onto the floor. “I’d much rather die by your hands than by the blade.”