Chapter 20 Neo #2
“I’m never impatient.”
“You’re the most impatient man I’ve ever met. Now tell me, do you want me to suck your dick?”
“We shouldn’t,” he says, but I see the light in his eyes. His monster is coming out to play, wanting this as badly as Wylder does. He likes to be bad, to let loose.
“We so should.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and whisper, “Come on. Unzip. Take it out.”
He glances up at Brennan, whose vision is laser-focused on the road ahead of him. Good. This is between Wylder and me.
When his cock finally makes an appearance, I run my tongue across my teeth.
“Better be quiet,” I say softly and lean forward, taking him into my mouth. Wylder’s hand fists in my hair, making my eyes roll back at the sensation of him losing control. It’s like a string pulled taut, snapping in the most delicious fashion.
He shoves me down on his cock, and I choke around him, my own dick straining in my pants as he fucks my face. I let him, listening to his sharp exhales, his long inhales, until he’s spilling into my mouth with a soft groan.
It’s almost my undoing, my body shuddering as he pulls me off him.
I sloppily swipe at my mouth and lean my cheek against his thigh, catching my breath. It’s then that I realize we’ve come to a stop and Brennan has his fingers in his ears, his eyes closed.
I huff a small laugh and sit up, watching as Wylder, with shaking hands, tucks his cock back into his pants.
“See, we’re here,” I say, my voice raspy from overuse. “It was like no time passed. Either that or you came really fast.”
He wets his lips and nods. “Seems so.” Then his gaze shifts to the bulge in my pants. “I’ll take care of that later.”
“You better,” I say with a wink, and then slip out of the car, watching as Brennan snaps his eyes open and follows us out.
We’re in the poorer part of St. Dimas, the lights uneven and sickly, and the sidewalks cracked.
As I walk past the askew buildings, my chest tightens, nerves fluttering within me.
What if he hates this? What if this was a huge mistake?
But those thoughts are fleeting as his hand links with mine. The guards close around us as we walk, and still, he doesn’t ask where we’re headed, just lets me guide him. Right to the front of an abandoned clinic.
“Why are we at the Harbor Clinic? It’s abandoned. Has been for decades.”
“Sure is.”
We look at the red tape across the door, and I nod toward the side of the dilapidated building. “Come on. This way.”
He wordlessly follows me, the guards as well, until I come to a stop near a rusted door. It looks sealed shut, an old lock on a thick chain through the door handle. I pull open my satchel and produce a key.
“Not even Ansel knows about this place. So don’t tell him, okay?”
His eyebrows rise as the door scrapes over the broken concrete. I pull out two flashlights, handing one to Brennan and keeping one for myself. Flicking it on, I step inside, the guards follow with their guns drawn, their bodies tense.
But even in the darkness, I feel safe.
Everything I have here is hidden. All mine. No one can find it except me.
And now Wylder.
Part of me once again nags that I should turn back now, not reveal anything to him, but the braver part of me eggs me on, telling me to continue moving forward. So I do, my feet crunching over dead bugs and broken glass as I make my way to the stairs. The ones that lead to the basement.
The door swings open, and the guards push through, moving down the stairs and into the large room beneath. This is where old equipment was stored. Boxes line the walls, and rats scurry around them. When the guards finish sweeping the space, they step outside as I instructed before we left.
It leaves just Wylder and me, a single flashlight between us.
I nod toward the corner of the room, and he follows, the sound of his shoes clicking on the floor.
“What is this place?”
“You’ll see in a second.”
In the wall before us is another door, one that says Archives in bold letters. It has a large lock on the handle that I quickly open with another key.
“So, this used to be the medical records server room. Everyone forgot about it but me. It has everything I need for this…”
I hold my breath and then flick on the light switch.
Everything slowly comes to life, and I watch as the computers blink on. As the CPU fans whirl, dust picks up from the ground and swirls in the dim light.
I switch my flashlight off as Wylder takes it all in.
“It’s, um, well, it’s my identity coffin.”
His gaze moves to mine, and he cocks his head.
“Sorry, that makes no sense. This is where I lived for a while, where I worked. These are my servers. They’re safe. Bulletproof. But that’s not why I brought you here. Like I said, identity coffin.”
I move around several screens blinking to life, showing camera angles of the outside of the building, the guards lingering in the stairwell before coming to a stop on the other side of the room.
I bend down and remove a small, crumbling brick from the wall, pulling out a small lockbox. When I stand up, I brush the dusty metal off with my hand and hold it out to Wylder.
“Open it,” I say nervously.
He stares at it, holding it delicately, almost as if he knows how important this is.
Then his fingers pop the box open, and he stares down at the stack of faded pictures, a passport, and old school IDs. My birth certificate with my real name.
He lets out a long breath. “Neo. Are you sure?”
I don’t even hesitate. After what he gave me earlier, this is only fair. “Yes.”
He moves to a table and sets the box down, pulling me into him as he shuffles through the pictures, taking time with each one.
Looking at the different faces of me—pictures of me as a child, my face smeared with dirt; the crooked smile I didn’t often wear; the old, worn clothes that hung off my slim body.
“As you can see, my childhood sucked, but I don’t want to forget where I come from.”
He blinks over at me, his finger tracing the face of an awkward teen boy with a bad haircut and a bloody lip.
“These shouldn’t be left here. These should be protected.”
I shrug. “This is the only place I had that was safe.”
“What if I kept them with me?”
I swallow and look up at him. “Yeah. Maybe. I’m starting to think I may have to expand my horizons.”
He tilts my chin up and kisses me softly, a breath, a promise, before he turns back to the pictures, spending way more time than I thought he would with each one. And then he moves to the passport, something I had ages ago that has since expired.
“We’ll get you a new one so we can travel. I can get it expedited.”
“Yeah, okay.”
Then he unfolds the birth certificate and stares down at it.
“Nathan Smith.”
“Mhm.” I shift on my feet. “But I changed my name when I was old enough and could afford it. Neo always seemed more authentic to who I was, who I became.”
Wylder is quiet for a long time. Eventually, he puts all the documents into that metal box and closes it, handing it to me.
I stare down at it and then back up at him. I’m unsure what this means. Is he over all of this? Is he embarrassed about who I am? But that all dissipates when he opens his mouth.
“Thank you for showing me this,” he says softly. “I feel privileged to know this part of you.”
My eyes well with tears, and I choke back a small sob.
“Thank you for wanting to see it.”
“I do. I want to see all of the pieces of you.”
I swipe at my eyes as I move to put the box back, but he stops me. “Like I said, I’d love to keep those pictures and documents at my house. If you’d do me the honor.”
My gaze turns toward him over my shoulder, and I feel my heart grow two sizes too big.
“Why?”
There’s no doubt on his face as he speaks, just a bone-deep surety. “Because like I said, I want all of you, Neo. And I want to keep them close.”