Chapter 35
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FIVE
ZIGGY
Kennedy’s up as the sun is barely starting to rise, and I blink through the darkness toward him.
“What are you doing?”
His attention snaps to me, and a smile fills his face. “Nothing. I just … think I might head off.”
“I can drive you.”
“No, get some sleep. I’ve got the hang of the walk now.” Confusion itches at me as he leans in and presses his lips to mine. Before he can pull away though, I grab his arm, searching his eyes for any of that doubt he had before our picnic.
He knows exactly what I’m doing because he sighs. “Okay, okay. I’m being a scaredy-cat.”
That’s the last thing I’m expecting him to say.
His gaze flicks toward the darkness behind me. “Struggled to sleep. I kept hearing things all night.”
My poor Kennedy. He’s been trying really hard to get used to my place, but it isn’t sticking. I know it’s safe. I’ve lived here for eight years, and I’ve never had an incident.
I kiss him goodbye, wondering whether Rooney has sourced everything we need for a wall yet. The sooner I get it up and in place, the sooner he’ll love my home as much as I do.
“It’s so sweet you’re doing all of this for Kennedy,” Rooney says as we carry the supplies from my truck inside.
I’m not a builder, but everyone in the End has picked things up along the way.
Everything that exists out here, we’ve built with our bare hands, so when I asked for supplies for the wall, Rooney automatically assumed he’d be helping.
Apparently, so did Wilde and Lynx.
“I can’t believe you’re going to all this effort for one of those creatures,” Lynx says through his teeth. “Let him be scared. I can even show up here in the dead of the night to make it happen.”
“You don’t need to wait for the dark,” Rooney says, which is basically what we’re all thinking.
Lynx’s face crumples in confusion. “There’s nothing scary about me.”
“Except your giant knife,” Rooney throws back, then points toward Bob, who’s watching us. “And your attack dog.”
Bob hisses.
“Don’t call him a dog.”
“Demon kitty, then.”
Lynx pauses on his way back to the truck and eyes Bob. “Not sure I’d call him that either.”
Rooney waves off his comment. “Whatever you want to call him, the point is that you’re both terrifying. Wilde has the scars to prove it.”
Wilde’s hand immediately covers his neck, where the teeth marks are fading into his skin. “Just keep him over there.”
“I don’t keep him doing anything.” Lynx storms back to the truck.
I know Lynx doesn’t think he has any control over Bob, but there has to be a reason why the cat is sticking around.
“You been okay up here, Ziggy?” Wilde asks suddenly.
I eye him as I nod.
“There’ve been a few reports around town of things going missing now. Booker said some supplies have disappeared, Mase and Sonny are missing blankets they had drying, and Leo said he saw a man in the trees this morning.”
“A man?” Rooney echoes. “Like a stranger?”
“I don’t know how much to trust the word of a five-year-old, but it lines up with the weirdness, so I want us all to be alert.”
“That makes sense,” Rooney agrees. “Especially after the last time we had a stranger here.”
It’s rare that anything happens in Wilde’s End.
The town is so remote, with so few of us living here, that excitement is not a draw card.
The last incident happened before I moved here, where a couple were hiding out in Hobby Straight with a group of stolen kids.
Wilde and some others held them here until the police arrived, then lied and said they stumbled on the people while they were hiking.
There hasn’t been anything since. That we know of.
And there isn’t much that happens here without us knowing.
“I’m missing six carrots, two cucumbers, and a bush of blueberries has been stripped bare.” Lynx dumps the wooden slats onto the tiled floor.
“Someone’s hungry,” Rooney says.
“Someone’s dead,” Lynx answers. “They also took my favorite knife. The second I find out who’s stolen from me, I’ll slice their skin from their body.”
Rooney laughs. “And you say you’re not creepy.”
“I’m not.” He says it like he takes personal offense to that. “I’m protective.” His hand hovers over the handle of the machete strapped to his leg. “I have no issue disposing of the trash.” He slants a look at me and Wilde. “No matter who they are.”
I glare back. Lynx can think whatever he wants about the brothers, but I’m not going to let him threaten them. Any of them. If he hurt Kennedy, even a small amount, I wouldn’t hesitate to do worse back. People can underestimate me all they like, but it will be their funeral.
No one will take him from me.
Lynx’s razor-sharp eyes focus on my face. “What’s this?” he asks softly, stalking closer. “Are you challenging me, little Ziggy?”
“Touch him and not even Bob will save you,” Wilde warns.
“But I’m not the one making threats.”
Wilde glances my way. “Whatever Ziggy’s threatening, I agree with him.”
“Me against the world yet again—” Bob’s hiss cuts off Lynx’s words. “And Bob. Sorry, Bob.”
I huff and turn toward where I want the wall built. I point to it and roll my hands to show them we should get moving.
“So bossy …” Lynx taunts, getting everything set up. Then he leans in by my ear. “I slipped venison skewers into your fridge. I hope you both choke on them.”
I pat the spot over my heart twice before Lynx looks away.
Complain all he likes, he’s still looking out for me.
Kennedy, though … I wouldn’t be surprised if he really does want him to choke.
An attitude like that is going to come between me and Lynx, so he needs to figure out a way to bottle it.
If the rest of us can adjust to the brothers and wait for the storm that’s coming, he can too.
And while I’m sure there’ll be a storm, Kennedy is the silver lining to it.
All I can do is let him shine on me and where we end up.
Sex last night was intense. The way he held me, cared for me, then how we came back here and talked until we fell asleep.
I can’t remember the last time I got to be with someone and not feel the crushing weight of anxiety on me.
We had whole conversations, and it was easy.
I barely froze up. I barely second-guessed myself.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt that free. This morning, I’m back to being me again, and it fits like a second skin.
The quiet, the awkwardness, those things still infect me.
But with Kennedy, I get a break from it all.
Like my stress and trauma is put on pause while I gather the energy to deal with it again.
The whole time we’re building the wall, Rooney, Lynx, and Wilde talk about the thief.
Foley is still in town after the fight last night, and Wilde keeps trying to link things back to him while Lynx shoots down every what-if scenario.
Like the fact that Booker was setting his arm in a cast during the early hours of the morning, so there’s no way Leo would have seen him.
While I don’t like Foley, and he’s definitely capable of theft and many other things, I also don’t think he’s behind it.
The Dale has money, and they’re random things for him to steal.
Like, six carrots? I didn’t even know Lynx paid that close attention, but I’m suddenly very grateful I’ve never tried to take food without asking.
All I know is that literally any of us better find this guy before Lynx does—given the way he’s detailing all the many ways he has to torture the man.
“And if he laid so much as a finger on Leo, I’ll pry every one of his fingernails from his hand before taking the digits bit by bit.”
“If he touched any of the kids,” Wilde tells Lynx, “I’ll help you.”
At least that’s something we can all agree on. The kids growing up here have a whole community to protect them, and it’s one of the ways I know that while Lynx might be … different, he’s not evil. Because he adores the shit of the kids, and they all love him back.
I shuffle closer to him, away from Wilde and Rooney, and clear my throat.
He sighs. “What?”
“Do you know what love is?”
My question makes him pause and throw a disgusted look my way. “Love? It’s fucking useless.”
Useless?
“Yes. Useless. It makes you pathetic and weak. Like prey. The second you fall in love, you’re done for.”
“But … there are other types of love … aren’t there?”
Some of the irritation leaves his face.
“Like … you love Leo.”
His teeth clash together. “That little ankle-biter. He needs better self-preservation skills.”
I give him a look to cut the shit.
“But he’s a baby Wender, so he’s my baby. And I’ll slaughter anyone who comes near my cubs.”
“Then … maybe love is … strength? As well?”
“Strength.” He scoffs and drills the final piece of the wall into place. “Fun. Kindness. Protection. A reason to keep living.”
Wilde and Rooney join us, and it takes Lynx a moment to notice them.
He glances over his shoulder at the three of us, and his whole face darkens into a leer. “It’s also a reason to kill. You tell anyone I said all that, and you’ll be sleeping with one eye open.”
Done with the drill, he tosses it onto the floor and leaves. Bob joins him when he crosses the threshold of my place, and I watch them disappear into the trees.
“Ziggy,” Rooney says from behind me. “Why are you asking about love?”
And it’s times like these I’m grateful that they don’t expect a response.
Because who would have thought Lynx would be the one to give me my answer?
Love is something different for all of us.
But Kennedy makes me stronger.
And like that, I think I understand it. Things are so much better with him because I want them to be better with him. He makes me feel good just by being him, and it makes me want to chase that feeling always. In everything.
Love doesn’t have to be one thing, but if it exists, the possibilities are endless.