Chapter 12 Orion #2
His words gave me hope, and I was prepared to use that as a shield to keep all the doubts away. Zeke didn’t need me to do anything more for him to see who I was at my core. If he found me worthy, I’d take it with both hands.
Now all I had to fear was what if he didn’t find me worth it in his heart.
Ifinished the last hundred yards at a full sprint, not because I was in a hurry but to burn off some nervous energy.
The image of hurt on Zeke’s face was like a knife in the heart.
His offer had been a test. He wanted to know if what we shared in the car was still there or if knowing Lael was here had changed things for us.
I failed the test, but not for the reasons he thought.
Moving forward with Zeke was more than a big step. It was seismic. I’d convinced myself being alone was best. Breaking the stranglehold that belief had on my soul required an enormous effort. I needed a few quiet minutes to convince myself I could do it.
Like Ajax said, I needed to be sure I could go all in and for the right reasons.
Zeke made me want that closeness again. Not just physical, but a gentle soul that was tough and resilient.
Say what you like about Michael, but he knew the right buttons to push.
It had been seventy years since I’d felt anything for anyone except pain.
Zeke made me want again just by being himself.
I should curse Michael for dragging me back to the living, but I couldn’t deny it felt good to be alive again.
Damn him for knowing me better than I knew myself.
Pushing open the door, I heard the music and came to a stop.
Zeke was playing guitar and singing. The music was different.
There was passion, but pain replaced joy.
I didn’t know the song, but the notes and words weren’t important.
The emotions were what mattered most. The loss and longing were so clear I nearly cried.
Where the hell did he learn to play like that? Moreover, why did he choose that song now? He said he played for the love of the music. He’d filled the house with joyous energy—his playful spirit put into music. All hints of those moments were gone.
I crept deeper into the house, following the notes like a dying man inching toward salvation.
I stopped in the doorway. Zeke sat on the edge of his bed.
His back was mostly to the door, but I could see some of his beautiful face.
His eyes were closed, but tears leaked through the lids squeezed shut.
When he tried to sing again, he choked on the words.
Instead, he poured everything into playing, and I felt the water drops etching a path down my cheeks. It was as if he’d seen into my soul, pulled out my pain, and expelled it with his music.
He started to sing again, and through the tear-filled voice I heard the words.
It was a ballad for the fallen comrades.
Zeke had never been a soldier or watched thousands of men and women die around him.
He hadn’t felt a person take his last breath impaled on his sword, but he’d captured the anguish of those who’d survived.
Those emotions, however, were my spin on his song. This was a song of loss. A farewell from the heart. It was filled with love and the sorrow of losing something wonderful. This was for him. He was mourning what we’d never become.
I inched silently into the room, not wanting to disturb the hauntingly beautiful music. He’d recovered enough control that he’d replayed a prior verse and was able to sing the words. As cliched as it was, he had the voice of an angel. Pure, beautiful, and loving.
Zeke bowed his head and continued to play until he trailed off. Heaving a breath, he opened his eyes, but I stood rooted in place, weeping openly. The surprise of seeing me shifted to anger and then concern.
“Orion?” He set down the guitar and rushed over. He grabbed me by the arms, and I felt him scan me, fearing the worst.
“That . . .” I sniffed to clear my nose. “That was beautiful.”
I pulled him into a hug. He resisted at first, but then gave in to what he’d wanted for days. What we both wanted.
His music truly pulled the pain from my heart, freeing the space to accept what I needed.
“Why . . .?”
Zeke pulled away and picked up his guitar.
With his back to me, he put the instrument back in its case.
“I don’t know. A few years ago, I’d heard the song, and it reminded me of the times Dad played the piano when he remembered his lost friends.
I played it for him, and he cried. He told me whoever wrote it knew the pain of losing brothers in arms.”
The knife in my heart twisted because I’d caused this. He thought I’d rejected us. “I’m sorry.” I bowed my head, unwilling to look at the pain I’d caused in this beautiful being.
“Orion, you’ve nothing to be sorry for. Only you can protect your heart the way it needs. I was wrong to try and push for even a tiny sliver more than you could safely give. I hope you’ll forgive me for being too stupid to realize it at first.”
I shook my head in disbelief that he’d take the blame for my cold heart. “Zeke. Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
His music echoed through my head, and I hated how I’d clung to my pain like a shield. It changed me for the worse. As I lifted my head, Zeke watched me with those soulful eyes, seeking some way to help.
My initial assessment of him was wrong. He might not have the look of a fearsome warrior like his father, but he possessed the same indomitable spirit that never surrendered. Zeke’s gift to the world wasn’t his prowess as a fighter, but his ability to see the good in everyone.
“I walled myself away from everyone, emotionally and physically, for so long, my pain became more than a crutch. It wove itself into the core of my being. I didn’t want to let it go because what happened was worse than any injury I’d experienced to my flesh.”
“Orion. Only you can protect yourself. A true friend would’ve respected your privacy.”
I gave him a rueful smile at how little he believed that definition of friendship. “Your father, Gabriel, and others thought the same thing at first. You can see how well that worked out. I’m sorry for being such a jerk.”
Zeke nodded, which given the moment was the best response. I’d moved away from my stoic isolationism, but he didn’t know what it meant. He had no idea because I’d given him such mixed signals. He tried to get answers, but I’d refused to address the question.
“You wanted to talk about what happened at the farmhouse, but what happened before we got there is more important.”
I motioned for him to sit on the bed, and when he did, I joined him. “Lael’s gone. I’m not even sure the Lael I thought I knew existed. Learning he’s behind this makes me sad and angry, but there’s no going back to him. That decision was made decades ago.
“I didn’t want to talk in the kitchen because I needed to be sure I could give you what you deserve from me. You want me to answer honestly, but I’m not sure you’ll like the answer.”
Zeke’s body shook, and his shoulders sagged because I was that stupid and inarticulate. “I can’t promise I can give it to you, but I can promise I’ll try with all that I am. Whether that’s enough is up to you.”
Hope bloomed in his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I like that answer?”
I reminded myself he’d never felt the pain I experienced. “Because it’s not a guarantee. Ajax told me—”
“Hold on.” His hands shot up and he put one on my sweaty shirt. “You spoke to Jax?”
“He was my best friend before I cut everyone off. I wasn’t sure he was the right person to call, but I had no one else.” I covered his hand with mine. “He told me not to give you anything less than my all because if I did, he’d bring Brenda with him and your brothers to kick my ass.”
“That sounds like Jax.” Zeke laughed. It was light and happy, and free of the pain he’d poured into his music.
I liked the sound. “I told him I’d tell you the truth and let you decide how best to guard your heart.”
I swore I’d never give someone control over me, but Zeke had all the power. It was frightening, and I had flashes to those bleak dark days when I refused to see anyone or even go outside. My hands shook waiting for his answer, and I wouldn’t blame him if he told me to leave.
“I don’t want that power over you, Orion, but I understand why you’re giving it to me.” He leaned closer. “Your promise is all I need. I trust what’s in your heart, just like you have to trust me.”
His lips touched mine, a tentative probe to confirm my words. His courage filled me with awe at the gentle soul who was stronger than any warrior I’d ever met. I put my hand behind his head so he couldn’t pull away.
The kiss was soft and gentle. It lasted only a few seconds, but it cleared away the last of the seventy years of pain, anger, and doubt I’d held onto. I smiled and saw my emotions reflected from Zeke’s face.
“I’ve never been a romantic, so I’m probably messing up again, but can we continue this after I shower?”
Zeke laughed. “That can go either way. Is there an offer to join you in that question?”
There was a nervousness behind the question, but no fear of rejection. Zeke told me what he wanted but handed me back the power to decide. I also knew without a doubt, I could say no without hurting him.
I hesitated, but not for lack of interest. “Yes? Does this require a talk about roles, positions, likes, and dislikes?”
“It can, but I’d be just fine getting clean and following up that first kiss with a few more.”
No one said it outright, but my relationship with Lael wasn’t healthy. He didn’t express a desire without there being negative consequences if I didn’t share his interest. Experiencing someone who nourished my soul was a giddy feeling.
“Join me, please?” I lacked his playful speech, but I didn’t want any misunderstandings anymore. I wanted him, and he needed to hear it.
“Yes. That would be amazing.”