Chapter 9 #2
The only problem I have is that when I try to snap the buckles, I find that my broken hand isn’t thrilled with helping.
I try to use the edge of my hand as Atticus’s eyes drift down to it.
He picks it up, and I instinctively want to jerk it back and keep it protected, but he’s extremely careful when touching it.
It’s been so many years since I’ve had to deal with any pain that lingered for more than minutes.
“Your hand is still not healed?” he asks.
“It’s healed just fine.”
“Why lie?”
I stare at him for a long moment, not quite sure how to answer that question. Do I think he’ll see me as less if I’m still too weak to heal? That I’m too weak to even deal with this poison that I’m sure he and Casimir would have healed from with ease?
I give the harness another tug that catches his balls, and he grabs my other hand too.
“This is not even how this harness is supposed to sit,” he growls as he pushes me against the wall, each of my wrists held in his hands while he examines my arms. “Are you so desperate to fondle me?”
I press into him, my eyes clashing with his. “You could only wish,” I say before I pull free and shove him away. By the time I look back at him, he has snapped the harness into place, much to my surprise. I thought for sure he’d toss it back and storm out.
“Do you… do you feel guilty that I’m hurt, and that’s why you’re obliging?”
“Does it look like I feel guilty? If I felt guilty, would I be sending you off as soon as I can? I’m simply planning on plunging off the top and getting caught up in that rope here.
They will shut the whole place down if they think such a freak accident can happen, and then we’ll go home where you can pester Casimir.
Or would you like me to turn someone into a vampire for you?
Just spin around and point and they can be yours. ”
I point at him and quirk an eyebrow.
“Besides me.”
“You act like I couldn’t do it myself.”
Atticus smirks. “I assumed that if you could, you’d have turned at least fifteen people to run around and hold a mirror up so you could look at yourself from all angles.”
“When I have people like you telling me how pretty I am, why would I ever need that?”
“And I’ve regretted it ever since I said it,” he grumbles. “Why don’t you have a harness on?”
“I don’t know how to put it on. Let’s just say I was hoping you’d put it on for me.”
“Yeah, sure,” he says as he slips it over my neck until the worker’s eyes snap onto him, stopping a homicide from taking place. It would at least liven up her job a little bit and she might get to go home early. Honestly, it’d be a win-win for her.
He wraps it around correctly, snaps it into place, and then the worker examines both harnesses to make sure we’re all set. With a big thumbs-up, we are let loose on this place.
“Where should we go first?” I ask.
“Home.”
“Where should we go first?” I repeat.
“How are you going to climb with one arm?”
“Pure talent. And if I fall, you will be there to catch me. It’ll be so much cuter than our meet-cute.”
“Which one? The one when I tried to eat you or the time you tried to kill me?”
“You must shed two tears at my funeral.”
“I’ll dribble some holy water on the cardboard box to help you from dropping down to hell. How about that?”
“To ‘hell’! What did I ever do? I dipped my toe into the bad boy life for like five minutes. And for the rest of it, I was an absolute angel.”
“When I saw you as a teenager, you were brawling some poor man trying to make a delivery so you could steal his horse, carriage, and all of his supplies.”
“He deserved it.”
“Did he?”
“He very much did. He tried to fondle me without my permission. Do you know what happens to men like that? I slice their testicles off and leave them nothing,” I say, quite proud of myself for that.
“Why didn’t you tell me that at the time?” Atticus asks as his eyes shift over to mine. “I might have actually assisted you. Instead, just locking eyes with you made me want to eat you.”
“You’re always so violent,” I comment before I head over to the hardest of the climbs. “We are going to race. But you have to stay within the realm of human speed. If I win, you must drop to your knees and say, ‘Oh Yorick, you make my tummy all warm because you glow like the sun.’”
“And if I win, you must—”
“No, this is my day. You get no reward at all if you win. I’m the only one allowed to win,” I say then give him a wink and start climbing.
It is rather difficult with one hand, but he pouts so long that I feel confident that he’s not going to win and will be kneeling at my feet before we know it.
I grin when I see a child of about ten rushing for the spot next to me. If he takes it, there’s absolutely no way Atticus will win. The boy gleefully reaches forward until Atticus sets a hand on his head and goes, “That is mine,” and I can practically see the child’s soul leaving.
He does a 180 and flees toward his parents while Atticus gives him a confused look before deciding that he doesn’t quite care how or why he sapped the soul out of the child and hooks the protective line on.
By this point, I realize that if I weren’t busy gloating, I would have won already, and now that Atticus is on the wall, he’s scaling it with ease.
“Don’t you dare,” I growl.
“Was I just so handsome that you couldn’t look away from me to win on your own?” Atticus asks.
I swing forward and give him a kick, trying to knock him off. He grabs my foot faster than I can see and pulls it, jerking me right off the wall so I’m dangling upside down from the safety rope, and proceeds to leave me like that as he glides to the top and rings the bell.
“Did you hear the ding, Yorick? Or should I ring it again?”
I feel like from this position I can see the ultimate gloat written across his face.
Why does he always look happiest when he’s mean to me?
“Oh dear! What happened here?” the worker asks as she runs over to help me.
I straighten myself up and flash her a smile that makes her swoon and nearly trip over her feet.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I merely slipped and then got distracted by how good my friend over here is at climbing. He really is the best, and I think he should go climb that mountain that people freeze to death on. That would be a blast.”
“Oh… I… I’m not sure that’s such a good idea!” she says while she helps me down. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Thank you, you’re so sweet,” I reply before I turn to Atticus who looks absolutely badass as he struts over to me.
How can he still look sexy and mysterious and lethal while surrounded by children screaming and running around and with a harness suctioned tight to him?
As he walks up, I make sure to tell him my feelings by announcing, “You sicken me.”
That makes his smirk grow. He’s pleased with himself.
“What else do I need to kick your ass in?” he asks, and I’m glad the woman has left so I can remain the most handsome man she’s ever met.
“Let’s jump on the trampolines next. I want to knock your ass down to your knees.”
“Yes, you should definitely do that with your broken hand and busted-open arm and chest,” he says.
“Careful, or it’ll sound like you care about me.”
“I just don’t want to hear you whine anymore.”
I whip the safety harness off.
“After all of that, we’re already done? It took you longer to put it on.”
“I’m always fast at taking things off.” I toss him a wink and saunter out of this area and over to the door that leads outside as he follows. Then I head to the go-kart track. It’s a rather intensive course that winds up as high as the building with plenty of twists and turns.
I turn around and grab the front of his collar, yanking him forward. “When I win, you’re going to tell everyone we meet for the rest of the day that you wish you were as pretty as me.”
Atticus reaches out, and I almost want to lean into his touch for some strange reason until he reaches past my cheek and plucks out the hair tie holding my hair back.
“Everyone already knows I’m ‘prettier,’” he says then gives me a smirk before shooting the elastic hair tie at my face.
I catch it and turn to scowl at him, but he’s already in a go-kart. “You’re already cheating!” I protest while I hastily get in the one behind him. “I can’t put my hair up with one hand! Now my hair is going to be in my face!”
“Exactly,” he says as they’re telling me to buckle my seat belt.
I do, but my hair is now a mess and completely in my face. “You suck.”
“I sure do… and I’m good at it,” he shouts back at me a moment before we’re sent off.
There are about twenty of us that take off and someone immediately rams into the back of my kart, throwing me forward. The jarring doesn’t feel the best, but I’m a determined man, and Atticus is already in front of me and gaining.
“Dammit,” I growl when the wind whips my hair into my mouth and eyes. I narrowly dodge a woman and manage to get behind Atticus before ramming him in the rear. I want to make some comment about that, but he’s already off again.
Why the fuck is his go-kart so much faster than mine?
Some kid slams their kart into mine, and I’m knocked to the side as I watch that asshole get farther and farther ahead of me. It’s like he’s been blessed by the gods! What the hell is this?
I jerk my kart around a slower one and see that ass zooming right toward the finish line just before someone slams into Atticus’s kart and I see the thing stall.
Oh, the delight I feel when I pass right on by him and over the finish line. I’m nearly dead last but I don’t care. All I care about is that my nemesis is stranded in the middle of a course and someone has to go save him.
Ah, what joy.
So much joy.
I hop out and hurry over to the railing so I can watch him glower as the poor man sent to help him looks terrified. I whip my phone out and snap a picture before I get a chill that races down my back.