7. Blue
7
BLUE
I watch in shocked horror as Zeke blinds Hoxton using the stake-like nails he d hung his whips from. I watch as he calmly stabs one eye, then the other before drawing the hunting knife out of the cross Hoxton managed to embed it in and finishing him off, slicing his stomach open, forcing a rush of blood and guts to the dirt floor.
The giant man stands for a moment, blindly looking down at his stomach. His hands come to the knife, he stumbles, then, finally, crashes with a force that rattles the walls of the room.
A strange silence settles around us. The only sounds are those of Zeke s panting breaths and the dull ringing in my ears. Zeke watches Hoxton on the ground and I see how the dirt floor darkens as it absorbs his blood. Then Zeke turns to me, slowly, and those gray eyes meet mine. Hoxton was a hulk. Zeke is tall and lean. I know he s strong but the strength it took to beat and kill Hoxton, I think that was rage.
I lick my lips, swallow. My throat is so dry. And then, the shaking begins, adrenaline and terror making their way out of my body and I just sob.
Zeke blinks, animated, and moves toward me. Wrapping an arm around my waist, he lifts me just enough to relieve the pressure on my wrists as he reaches up to undo the buckles on the leather restraints. He doesn t speak. He works quietly, and when I m free, he sets me on the ground but keeps his arm around my middle. He looks down at me and I look up at him. I reach up to touch him. To make sure he s real. This is real.
I ve got you, he says.
I open my mouth, but I can t speak just yet.
He came for me. He came for me. He killed the man who hurt me.
He killed for me.
With a shudder, I bury my face in his chest and close my eyes, hugging my arms to myself as he wraps his around me to stop me from shaking.
It s over, he says, pulling away to look down at me. You re safe. I ve got you.
I ve got you.
Has anyone ever said those words to me? Has anyone ever had me ? Like this? Like him?
I make a sound, try to hug him back to me. I need him to hold me. I never want him to let me go.
I m going to get you out of here. He lifts me up and we move toward the door. I glance back at the dead man. He s a bloody heap. I look up at Zeke as we step out into the fresh night air. He did that. I knew he was capable of murder. It s what brought us together, after all. But this brutality, the rage that overtook him, it was something else. To see it, to watch it happen, it s a different kind of knowing.
I hug myself closer to him, to this violent, angry man. This killer who came for me. Who saved me.
Who killed for me.
For me.
I hear the sound of a car door and a moment later, feel the cool leather of the seat beneath me. I wince with the contact and cling to Zeke when he tries to let me go.
Shh. It s okay. I m just going to get a blanket.
Don t go, I manage, hands clinging to his shoulders.
He looks at me, his face inches from mine, his eyes seeming to shine like silver coins in the moonlight. His face is bloodied, he has a bruise on his jaw, his cheekbone. His lip is cut and swollen. I touch his face with the tips of my trembling fingers and then I m kissing him. Kissing those swollen lips.
His hands come to either side of my head, holding me, and he kisses me back momentarily. There is a darkness in his eyes when he looks at me again, then, without a word, he walks away.
Chill air makes me shudder and I hug my arms to myself, but then he s back and he s carrying a blanket, unfolding it. He wraps it around my shoulders, then straps me in.
I ll be right back, he says and turns.
Wait. I capture his arm. Where are you going? You can t go back in there.
It s okay. He s dead, Blue.
His brother is coming.
Zeke shakes his head. No, he s not. They re both dead.
That s right. That s what he d said. He d taunted Wyatt, drawn him away from me. He killed two men tonight.
But wait. The man he was talking to on the phone. There s someone else. The man he s working for. Girard?
Zeke s forehead furrows. I ll be quick.
I watch him close the car door and walk back into the house. He returns moments later, shutting the cabin door behind him as best as he can. He s on his phone. He s talking to someone. He disconnects and crosses to where Wyatt s car is parked and opens the passenger side door. I think he s going through the glove compartment. When he s finished, he closes the car door and returns, climbing into the driver s seat. He sets the things he took, Wyatt s phone and a wallet, on the console between our seats then starts the engine, glances at me.
Shit, Blue.
I ll be okay. How is Isabelle? I ask, remembering.
She ll be fine. Baby too. Did he… Blue, did he touch you? his lips tighten, jaw setting.
He didn t rape me. You came in time.
Zeke looks straight ahead and nods, then we re driving. We don t speak until we reach the house. He parks, kills the engine and climbs out, coming to my side to open my door. He releases the seat belt and lifts me up. I m grateful because I m not sure I could walk if he let me. I hug the blanket to myself as he carries me into the house. I see the grandfather clock in the hallway. It s almost five in the morning. How long did Wyatt have me?
Zeke climbs the stairs with me in his arms. We make our way to the room he s been using. Inside, he switches on the light and carries me into the bathroom where he sets me down. He then runs water in the shower.
He watches me as he strips off his clothes. They re destroyed. He throws them into the trash.
I glimpse myself in the mirror. See my face. The blood smeared on it, the clown-grin and I start crying again, the kind of sobbing that wracks my body.
Shh. It s over, Zeke says, taking me in his arms, letting the blanket fall away when he holds me to him.
He was going to carve into my face. He said… He said.
Shh. Into the shower now. It s over. Let me clean you. Let me take care of you.
I nod and we walk into the oversized shower stall. The water isn t too warm but still stings when it hits my skin. Zeke is careful to clean me, using his hands to wash away blood before shampooing my hair, conditioning it.
While the conditioner sits in my hair, he washes my body again. When he s finished, I take the body wash from him, pour some out into the palm of my hand and wash him, too, letting my hands run over smooth skin and hard muscle, taking in the curving bodies of the dragons on his arms, his back, washing his hair when I m done with his body before taking his face in my hands and rising up on tiptoe to kiss him. To kiss his swollen lips again, to taste him.
It's different this time. He tastes different and he feels different and when he carries me out of the shower, both of us soaking, and lays me down on his bed, I spread my legs open as he settles between them.
I need to check your wounds, he says, voice hoarse.
After. I need you to hold me now, Zeke. I need you inside me. I kiss him and he kisses me, a hungry, needy sort of kissing that grows frenzied as I weave my fingers into his wet hair and pull him down to me.
I m sorry, he says.
I shake my head, confused. Why?
I m sorry I didn t come sooner. I m sorry I let him hurt you.
You saved me. I sit up a little. You saved me Zeke. You saved my life.
His eyebrows furrow, forehead creasing.
You idiot. You saved my life. I kiss him again, wrap my legs around his waist. Make love to me. Make love to me. I ve never said those words before. Never. The choice is not lost on me.
Blue, you re hurt?—
I need you. I need to feel you inside me, Zeke. Please.
Tears fall from the corners of my eyes. He bends his head and kisses me again, taking my thigh with his hand and drawing my leg up and then he s inside me and I m sucking in a ragged breath as I take him. It s not enough, though. I can t get close enough. I cling to his shoulders, feel his strength, the power in his arms and pull him to me as he makes love to me, moving slow and deep. He kisses me, tongue wet inside my mouth, and I kiss him back, panting for breath. We re close, so close, there s nothing between us and the pain I feel, the welts and cuts and bruises, it becomes a part of this, of us, because it is a part of us. Zeke and I, there s a darkness inside us. It belongs to us, it envelops us. Finding him, being with him, this killer, this beast, my avenger, my monster, I m feeling things I ve never felt before with an urgency as intense as the orgasm building inside me, inside him. I see it in his eyes, feel it in the thickening of his cock, in the frenzy of the fucking.
I love him.
I love this man. This brutal killer.
I love him.