30. Sharkie
Date: 5-17-2024
Time: 0759
I deserve this—every second. The thought doesn’t make the way he looks at me with his brows pulled low over his eyes and the small snarl on his lips any easier. I wrap my hands around his wrist, holding my weight to ease the tension in my body from being held in such an uncomfortable position.
What am I supposed to do? I don’t think “ I’m sorry I had your father killed and for almost killing you multiple times, but hey I love you.” will pass.
Light filters through the few boarded windows on the lower level, streaming across his face, teasing my imagination with the idea of his features softening. Even if they aren’t, I don’t care. He’s alive and that’s all that matters.
A salty streak dips into my lips parted in an attempted apology but his mouth crashes into mine, silencing anything I could’ve said. Every thought tumbles into nothing and the scent that’s so uniquely him surrounds me. Safe . That’s what he is, it’s what he’s always been. My shoulders slump as he lowers me until my feet connect to the broken grumble below.
Everything about the kiss is different from all before. It is gentle, explorative almost. I’m sure from the outside it’s a comical sight, but the feeling is like coming up for air after being deprived for so long. He pulls back enough that he can lean his head against mine. Not a trick. His eyes are softer than before, all harsh lines from his scowl gone and forgotten.
“You could’ve killed me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
“I couldn’t.”
He snorts in response as he leans back to let his gaze travel over my form until it locks onto the very uncomfortable wound. The pad of his finger smears the blood in a gentle brush making me hiss. Not too deep to have either of us concerned but deep enough that I know if he touches it again I’m going to punch him in the throat.
“Looks like we’ll match now.”
I roll my eyes at his comment and push against his chest making him let out a chuckle that visibly shakes his shoulders. I shouldn’t have gotten this lucky when it came to him. The selfish side of me is grateful, but there’s still a nagging in the back of my head telling me I’ve done wrong or he’s going to change his mind.
“Another scar I get to make mine.” Caspian murmurs while tucking his head into the crook of my neck, brushing his lips against the skin. I think I like adrenaline a bit more now that I can feel the body heat he’s radiating through his clothes as he pushes me back toward a crate. Successfully distracting me from any thoughts that might deter my focus from anything other than the way he drags his tongue up the column of my throat.
“Real fucking adorable. Seriously. Relationship goals.” My head jolts to Sam clutching his waist. It’s good to know that nothing vital was hit. I can’t help but feel a small bit of sympathy for him. I know it sucks being stuck in the crossfire. Caspian steps away to stand over Dutton and I tense from the loss of contact. He presses his boot into the side of his head. Poor Moe. Every second was probably torture for him. There’s no telling where his head will be after this. It’s not like I have a right to question it, I don’t even know where mine is at. I don’t guess I ever have though.
I take my time to step beside Karma, careful to avoid pooling blood. I already have enough on my feet, so I'd rather not add to the scrubbing I’ll have to do later. Tide grunts in irritation as he pulls Dutton by the collar behind him. I tilt my head curiously, hiding the smirk on my face at his grumbling. At least I didn’t make the mess this time. I grimace. Okay, so the plane might be my fault, but I had good intentions.
Medics barge through both entryways carrying medical bags and pushing in gurneys with lights strapped to their heads in Sam's direction. To no surprise Jasmine darts in behind them.
One medic steps away from Sam’s flailing arms. The sterile scent of plastic wafts through the air the closer she gets with a raised hand as she uses the other to push the frame of her glasses up the bridge of her nose. I roll my eyes. I'm not going to bite.
Bodies blur together, voices merge creating white noise, and each motion feels numb. I never genuinely sat and thought about what my life would be like when everything was done. I only ever thought of the life I once thought I wanted. What do I do now? Where do I go? What’s going to happen? I know what I want, the only problem is the gray area in between.
A heavy sigh breaks my trance, forcing my hands to push against the gloved one and placing a bandage on my throat. Of course, the ghost that haunts me had to come back only to make that infuriating noise.
“There you are little siren. I was getting worried you officially lost your mind.” Caspian grins at my narrowed eyes as I realize it was him drawing out the sound. A sharp pain vibrates through my chest to my fingers, with an unnatural pop echoing in my ears. My fist raises to the woman who steps pushing past Tide with a scowl across her features.
She’s lucky I didn’t do more damage than just a swat, especially since she just put my shoulder back in place without warning. Don’t people usually count down?
Caspians hands cup my cheeks forcing my focus on the deep v between his brows, hooding those gorgeous green eyes. How is he not more irritable, confused, or anything but concerned?
“What’s going through that pretty little head?” He mumbles, and his thumb traces my cheekbone in a soothing motion. The clacking of metal bars makes me peer over his shoulder to Sam’s beat-red face secured to a gurney facing the ceiling, and Jasmine trailing a distance away from it.
“Where’s Moe?”
“He’s fine. I checked on him after I cleaned up a mess that wasn’t yours for once.”
I nod, not believing he’s the least bit ‘fine’. Caspian is just trying to lighten the mood, but it’s not going to work this time. I push off the chair, forcing him to drop his hands from my face. The kiss was simply adrenalin. I can accept that. What I can’t accept is the unknown. He straightens his shoulders and reaches for me again, but I carefully step behind the seat to put some space between us. I love him . Not in a way as I cared for Daymen or in the manipulated way I felt towards Dutton and Karma. But the way, I’d willingly risk my life, accept my death, only to turn around and live for him.
“What happens now?”
He scrunches his nose and jolts his head back in confusion, acting like I just asked if the sky was green. I place my hands on the back of the chair, chipping my nail along the splintered wood. Soft pattering hits the metal roof, following a crack of thunder in the distance. It’s a coincidence the sky mirrors my internal storm.
“Now…” He draws in a deep breath, “We go back to base and preferably get you a bath. Maybe even some food?”
I gawk at him with my brows pulled low and my lips parted. He shouldn’t be acting so nonchalant. I took so many innocent lives for the wrong reason, including his father's. I’m a little pissed about the bath comment too. I'd like to see him kill five men, crash a plane, be held at knifepoint, and come out without a fleck of grime or smell like freshly picked flowers. He steps closer, raising his knee to rest on the seat, his hands clasping over mine.
“I never planned on letting you go, little siren. Just try not to kill me anymore alright?”
“What about Moe? Sam? Your base? Everything I’ve done.” I take a breath, pulling my hands out from under his. “What about Bay? What about my broken head?” each word comes out faster than the last jumbling incoherently. I like plans, I like routine and knowing what comes next. I don’t like how nothing has gone the way it was supposed to since the moment I met him. I don't like how each thought I attempt to have is muffled by another voice. My breathing shallows. It’s like sitting in a boat caught in the middle of a storm rocking close enough to the water only to pop back up and tilt again.
He laughs. He fucking laughs . The type that rumbles from deep within his chest and has him clutching his side. I grip the back of the chair and weakly throw it in his direction. As expected, he dodges it. Asshole .
“I’m sorry.” Even though he apologizes he continues to stifle the annoyingly perfect noise by brushing his hand down his face.
“Moe will be okay, I promise. Sam has been through worse, trust me. My base would look a little better with some more blue in it.” He starts to walk towards me until his boots are kissing my toes. “Now as for you–I want to keep you, ‘broken head and all’. So what will it take for you to stay?”
My heart unnaturally swells, but for once I don’t try to push it back into a small cage.
“A bath, a glass of wine, Game of Thrones, and some pickles will do.”
“You sure you don’t want the world?”
“Keep it spinning and I think we’ll be okay.”
“Deal.”
I yelp as he scoops me, wrapping my arms around his neck so I’m cradled close to his chest.
Thank God, because my feet have been through enough.
Date: 5-17-2024
Time: unknown
“Cordelia.”
I groan, throwing a rather harsh punch into the closest object. I highly doubt I was asleep for longer than five minutes, which is a crime in itself. The body below me shifts with creaking leather following the motion.
“Told ya she wasn’t gonna wake up. Ya should’ve just taken her back to the room.”
“She’s not getting our sheets dirty. I’ll just wait.”
“Whatever ya say Cas’.”
What does a woman have to do to get a little sleep around here? Doesn’t anyone realize the shit I’ve dealt with in less than twenty-four hours? I let out a huff, pushing against Caspian’s chest harder than necessary to sit up. The light emanating from floor lamps in each corner is dim, shining off the mahogany wood furniture in the room. It smells like fresh cigar smoke, stronger than what I typically smell on Tide’s clothes. I wince as I turn my neck, and the bandage pulls at my skin.
“I thought we agreed on bath and wine.” I mumble, placing my free hand against the edge of the desk in an attempt to push the seat back so I can stand. My nose scrunches when his feet plant into the floor, willing us to remain still.
I might have to kill him after all.
“Hell, that sounds like a good time! Can I join?”
I feel like I’m in the twilight zone, Moe shouldn’t be so happy. Surely adrenaline is still high, it was his first kill after all. I guess it doesn’t matter whose body it was.
“No.” Caspian wraps his arm around my waist, making a blush crawl up my neck. It’s too intimate for us. Too fast. I am still processing everything that has been said and done. He reaches around, tapping the yellow file placed neatly in the middle of his desk. Moe and Tide continue to bicker, but it’s muffled as I drift my finger along the edge, focusing on the big bold red letters stamped on the front.
‘Classified’
I dip my thumb into the folder, slowly flipping the cover like whatever’s inside could jump out and bite me. What looks to be a contract sits on top. With each paper I pull from the clip the clearer the message becomes. Caspian gently squeezes my waist, preventing my heart from flying out of my chest. It’s everything I thought I was fighting for with a few added aspects.
His breath brushes against my ear and shifts our bodies so he can look over my shoulder.
“It’s just a rough draft. Change whatever you want, and I’ll look it over to see if we can make it work.”
Landing on the last page I can't help but grin.
By signing you agree to stay, and I Caspian Lyle Madden agree to fulfill my end of the contract.
“Can I pick the name?” Moe chimes, with a smile that crinkles his eyes.
I delicately trace the ink embedding the white sheet with my finger. Two factions become one to achieve the same goal. No more war. Just the dedication to building the world back to what it once was and preventing other factions from making the same mistakes we’ve dealt with before.
“I think I love you.” I whisper in awe, gathering my bearings to reach a pen and start adding my key points and stipulations. His body tenses, pausing a moment before rough lips touch my temple, but I can’t focus on the gesture. I'm too engrossed in my new role with my lip firmly tucked between my teeth.
“I know I love you.”
“Gross. Anyway, are you two gonna let me pick the name?” Moe plants his hands on the desk drawing my attention to the movement. I don’t have to look at Tide to know he is wearing the same raised brow as myself while Moe does his best attempt at a stern expression. Look who’s the big man on base now.
Caspian reaches for the file attempting to pull it from my grasp. I swear I’ll bite him.
“We can talk about it over–” he grunts, successfully yanking it from my grasp. “-dinner.”
That was unfair. He put a bone in front of a dog and just snatched it away. If he thinks we are back to ‘normal’, he can kiss it goodbye. I knock my bare heel into his shin, so he jerks the chair back enough I stand. Moes sprints out the door and Caspian calls out behind him in a voice that booms off the fine interior of the office.
“We leave in an hour!”
With an aggravated sigh, I throw the pen down on the desk. He catches my wrist, twisting me until I’m standing between his spread legs.