Chapter 18 #2
He laughs. ‘Already had mine. It was a bad week. This helps. Trust.’
I bite my lip, then look over my shoulder since Thorne still has his hand around my waist, rubbing absently at my hip. But he’s engrossed in the gym bros’ argument.
This isn’t illegal here, but I have no idea how FBI man is going to feel about me doing this. I elbow him and jerk my chin down at the package in my hand. He bursts into laughter and kisses the side of my neck.
“Will it help?” he murmurs into my ear.
“I have no idea,” I say back, leaning in close so he can hear my words. “I haven’t done this in a while.”
He kisses my jaw. “Try it. I’ll watch over you. I’ll be a good boyfriend and keep you safe.”
My eyes widen. ‘Boyfriend?’ I sign. ‘Mine?’
He shrugs, and his cheeks go pink. ‘Okay?’
Yes, it’s okay. It’s more than okay. It’s the one thing I’ve needed to hear from him. For me to feel like I’m on solid ground. And god, those flapping moth wings where my heart should be are moving even faster now.
I lean up and take him by the chin, kissing him. “Yes,” I murmur when he pulls back to look at my lips. He kisses me again for that before turning his attention back to Thom.
I look up at Robbie, who’s watching me with his impossibly keen eyes, and then he smiles. ‘I like him.’
‘True-biz?’ I’m not sure he’d say that after knowing the whole truth, but I suppose it won’t matter eventually. Thorne isn’t staying with the FBI. I don’t know what’ll come after for him.
If he’ll want to keep me or if I matter enough for him to try. But for the first time in a long, long time, I have hope. I just need to get over this hump. I need to find a way to let go for a bit so I can reset and then fix my life.
Robbie’s smile widens. ‘Yes.’
He gestures for me to eat the gummy, so I pop it into my mouth, the taste of pear exploding on my tongue, then lean back against Thorne’s strong, steady arm and allow myself to feel honestly and truly safe.
I’m finally not thinking about Michael. Instead, I’m on a high of Blue Lagoons and my obsession with Thorne.
My boyfriend.
When Thorne said it at dinner, I about floated right out of my chair. I have never been so happy in my life, and that is both wonderful and really fucking sad. But I don’t have it in me to spiral now. I’m feeling too good.
Right now, we’re stumbling down the sidewalk as we stroll from the restaurant to the club, my arm linked through Thorne’s for balance.
He didn’t drink anything, which is fine. He’s the rock in my tumultuous sea.
And anyway, I’m pretty sure I drank enough for both of us. Robbie did too. I’m also pretty sure he had more gummies than he said he did.
More than a normal person should have. But I figure he’s smart. He’s like a goat. He can consume anything and be just fine.
‘So I can get through tonight,’ Robbie told me when he tipped back his last shot.
I snorted and cheered him, our glasses clanking loudly. Fucking yeah. Comrades in clubbing.
We move into the line with everyone else.
Apparently, this is a hopping place. Our Deaf friends like it because of the colorful lights and the fact that most of the bartenders know ASL.
It’s accessible and fun, and they don’t need to worry about their experience being dampened by things like discrimination or miscommunication.
“Thom! Dex! No need to wait in line, my friends.” Our heads turn, and we see a man in a suit and tie with a heavy accent waving at us. He’s handsome, I’ll give him that, and perfectly put together. He probably looks like this all the time.
My eyebrows rise as the man walks closer and waves us inside.
“Glad you could make it.” The man turns his head toward us, and I give him a hearty wave, slapping Thorne in the face a little as I go. Oops.
He just stares down at me in adoration.
What a gem.
“I’m surprised you guys showed up,” the guy says, and I immediately step up and interpret what is being said for Robbie. Or at least I try to. “Been inviting Thom and Sex to come down here for ages.”
“Sorry, did you just call him Sex?” I ask and giggle a little when Dex blushes.
“Sure did.”
He doesn’t explain, and I cock my head in curiosity. “Care to tell us why?” He shrugs, and I sigh, signing and speaking at the same time. “Listen, hearing man. You are in the Deaf world now. There are no secrets, only overexplanations.”
Robbie snorts, and the man, whose name I still don’t know, gestures to Dex. “You can tell him.”
“I’d prefer not to.” He attempts to sign that while speaking and ends up flipping everyone off.
It makes Robbie snort even louder.
“Whatever,” he murmurs. “I just like to fuck. Okay? It’s nothing more than that.”
“A Casanova,” the man says. “But these three inspired me to create an inclusive space. And voilà!”
We let the man lead us inside, and I lean over and ask Robbie who he is.
‘A customer at the gym. Owns the club and is rich as fuck.’
‘Name?’
‘Locke.’
‘Interesting.’
I make some movements with my lips to signal that I understand as we walk inside the large club.
As soon as we step inside, I can hear and feel the bass.
It rumbles under my feet. The dance floor is awash in a kaleidoscope of color, people dancing to the music and some standing in the midst of the writhing bodies, chatting in ASL.
The walls are metallic, reflecting the light, and chandeliers hang from the ceilings.
My eyes swivel to the bar, and I see several Deaf people ordering and chatting with the bartenders.
Everything about this is inclusive. Locke is an interesting man, for sure. When I’m not high on gummies, I’ll ask around about him some more.
‘Drink first?’ I ask everyone, and Robbie arches an eyebrow.
‘You just drank like a whale.’
‘Fuck off.’
He grins, and I shove at him lightly.
‘Why not dance some of it off?’ Robbie says, and I sigh.
‘Fine. I guess I will dance. Want to join me?’ I point to Robbie, and he purses his lips.
‘No. Ask Thorne.’ He’s given him a simple name sign. A T tapped against his chest.
‘Fine. Will.’ And then I grab my boyfriend’s hand and pull him onto the dance floor. He goes reluctantly, but as soon as I press my leg between his and grind, his hands go to my hips, and we move to the beat.
Or at least he tries. When he said he’s not a good dancer, he meant it. I’m not much better, but the alcohol in my system is making me confident. A ballerina. A wild soul ready to dance like the wind.
My hands go above my head, and I wave them like a tree in the forest, my mouth opening and closing like a bird. I call to my people, my friends.
Dance with me.
Michael’s little face appears in my mind, eating my vegetables. The zucchini. The tomatoes.
He breaks me out of my forest dance.
So I spin around and start to move like the tide. Back and forth. Side to side.
I’ve lost Thorne completely, just like one does when they’re playing in the ocean.
Before I know it, my joy crashes as I realize Roman is standing in front of me, his face screwed up in frustration.
‘When did you get here?’ I ask.
He doesn’t answer except with a question of his own. ‘Why Dex here?’
‘You mean Sex?’ I waggle my eyebrows and swear one falls off. I search for it on the floor but am wrenched up by Roman.
‘What wrong with you?”
‘Everything? Dead body in my aunt’s house. Stress.’
His very intact eyebrows rise. ‘Deaf body?’
Did I say Deaf and not dead? Did my hands autocorrect me?
‘No. Mean dead.’
He blinks at me, and I add, ‘She killed many. Bad woman. Groundhog her spirit haunting me.’
Hm, that was hard to sign. Must be that my fingers are falling off too. Pretty soon, I’ll just be a stump.
That makes me snort. They could plant me in the ground, and maybe I can grow. Like an apple tree. I’d be allergic to myself.
‘Why is your aunt killing people? Isn’t she dead?’ I watch his hands move—slower than normal. Or is that just my high-as-fuck brain slowing everything down?
My head bobs. ‘She dead. Killed man. Have box full. Shoes. One bloody.’
He stares at me long and hard as I hold my fingers up near my face. I think I shouldn’t have taken that gummy. That was a mistake.
‘I’m getting your boyfriend.’
‘Yes. Boyfriend. He’s my boyfriend now. Hot man.’ My thumb skims my nose, and I wiggle it. It feels weird, like it’s floating off my face.
Hands move around my waist, and I’m pulled forward. Everything swims, but everything is also perfect. And it’s made even better when I’m in Thorne’s arms. He smells so good, looks so good. Just wonderful.
“Thanks,” I hear him shout, but Roman just rolls his eyes.
Just then, I see Dex saunter up, and I squeal, my curved finger moving from my temple to my jaw. ‘Sex! Look-look! Roman.’
I end up just wiggling my fingers, trying to fingerspell it. What the fuck is his sign name? Why can’t I remember it?
Roman looks at Dex, and Sex looks at him. It’s a hot little stare-off. I wouldn’t mind the two of them touching again.
I fan my face and let out a sigh. ‘Maybe two of you need fuck.’
Roman’s eyes widen, and Sex just blinks. Wait…is his name Sex? Dex? God, I can’t remember.
‘No,’ Roman signs, but it’s just a fingerspelled word. My eyes cross. ‘Refuse.’
Suddenly, Robbie bumps into me, and he grins goofily at me. ‘Me go jail now.’
I giggle and nod. ‘Join.’
He bobs his head and links his arm through mine. ‘Surrender now.’
‘Agree. Illegal. Weed. Maybe?’
Words are hard. My eyes are closing. Robbie moves away from me, and my heavy eyelids blink, catching Thorne picking me up.
“We need to go home before you fall over,” he says into my ear.
‘I love your voice,’ I sign, hitting him in the face once more.
He just grins down at me.
‘‘I love you,” he says, but my brain can’t comprehend why that makes me feel so good, so I let it float away like everything else.
My eyes close, and I pass out, fading into the abyss. No Michael, no serial killer aunt, and no crumbling farm.
Just Thorne.