Chapter 9
Chapter
Nine
He was preening a little as he gathered his clothes and began to get dressed.
Even more so because Voodoo could feel Indigo’s watchful gaze. Maybe pressing her into the ground, letting her feel every inch of just how beautiful he found her, wasn't the most tactful way to explain that he was attracted to her, but he also had a feeling words wouldn't have worked.
All her life, Indigo had suffered at the hands of other people.
Over and over again, they’d proven to her that people hurt one another, humiliated them, and used them for their own benefit.
If he was going to convince her that he wasn't out to hurt her or use her, then he was going to have to show it with his actions.
To her, words were cheap, and actions were the only thing that would prove to her that he was different.
And he was different.
The only thing he wanted from her was for her to be happy, at peace, find somewhere to belong, and build herself the life she deserved.
While he wasn't averse to pushing her a little, Voodoo also knew he had to be careful not to push too hard, or he’d push her away.
Already, he could tell that even aside from the effects of the drug and the suicidal thoughts that came with it, Indigo had a tendency to get stuck inside her head.
Talk herself into things and out of them.
Her self-worth had taken a major beating long before she fell into Dr. Gardner’s hands, and it would take time for her to work through that.
“I’m going to restock our water supply so I can clean your wounds up before you get dressed. Why don’t you take a look through the MREs in my pack and choose what you want to eat for breakfast?”
“MREs?”
“Meals, ready to eat,” he explained.
“Do they taste any good?”
“Actually, they taste okay. Regardless, even if they didn't, your body needs fuel, you haven’t eaten in days.”
“Days,” she muttered, and he got the feeling she hadn't been eating much, if anything, much longer than the couple of days since they’d broken her out of the lab.
“I’ll be back soon. If you hear anything, you hide, don’t come out.” Setting his back-up weapon at her side, he saw her glance at it like it was a spider. “Do you know how to shoot?”
“Never even touched a gun before.”
“Flick off the safety, then point and shoot,” he said, demonstrating before setting the weapon back down. “Aim for the chest, you probably won't get a kill shot but it’s the biggest area and therefore the easiest to hit.”
Chances were, she wouldn't need to shoot at anyone, but there was no way he was leaving her alone again without a means to defend herself. Not after last time. Voodoo was pretty sure he’d never get the image of that man on top of her, his penis down her throat, out of his head.
Thankfully, it didn't take long to make his way down to the stream, fill up his canteens, and then head back to the cave. After cleaning Indigo up, and getting her fed and watered, he’d make another trip to refill them before they started moving again.
Ideally, he’d like to make the meeting point sometime in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, so he could meet up with his team and get the hell out of there.
The sooner he got Indigo home safe and sound, the better.
“Just me,” he called out as he approached the cave, not wanting Indigo to pick up the weapon and fire in a panic. “You find something to eat?”
“Vegetable lasagna,” she replied, holding up the pack.
“My favorite.”
“Is not. I just know a man who looks like you loves his meat too much for a meal without meat to be a favorite.”
Voodoo laughed, because she wasn't wrong in that he loved his meat, but this was actually his favorite.
“When I was ten,” he told her as he sat down beside her and reached for his med kit.
“I had a nanny who was a vegetarian. At the time, I really wanted to learn how to cook because I thought if I could show my parents how self-sufficient I could be, they’d be proud of me.
Vegetarian lasagna with this amazing tomato sauce was her favorite and what she taught me.
We made everything from scratch, the noodles and the sauce.
Took me ages to perfect the recipe, and even to this day, I can't make it quite as good as she did.”
“I'm sorry your parents didn't see how wonderful you are,” she said softly as he edged the blanket out of the way so he could clean the wounds on her legs.
“Ditto,” he told her as he unwound the bandages to find the wounds looking better than he was expecting.
It was still weird to know that he wouldn't hurt her by cleaning the skin that was still inflamed and angry-looking but no longer weeping.
Even though he knew she wouldn't feel pain, he found himself still being gentle, careful.
Maybe it was just because after a lifetime of cruelty, she deserved only sweet things from here on out.
“It would be amazing if you could go back and change the past. Make it better.”
Pausing, he looked up to meet her gaze. “It would. But just because the past hasn’t been kind to us doesn’t mean the future won't be.”
Indigo sighed. It was a sad sound, full of so much torment he barely resisted the urge to haul her into his arms. “I wish I could believe that. But if there’s one thing life has taught me so far, it’s that just when I think things are improving, that they’re going to work out, all of a sudden I'm dragged back into that dark place.”
“That won't happen again,” he vowed.
“Again, I wish I could believe that, but—”
“No buts. What is it with you and the buts?” he muttered. “You have zero reason to believe things will get better and zero reason to believe anything I say. So don’t believe, don’t think, just feel.”
“Feel?”
“Yes. Feel. Just feel, honey. For a moment, shut down everything else and feel.”
Adding more water to the bandage he’d been using as a towel to clean her, Voodoo worked his way up her body.
Making sure none of his touches were inappropriate in any way.
Not only would he never take advantage of a woman, but he also knew one wrong move would spook Indigo and set back the minimal progress he’d made with her so far.
Gliding the wet material over her skin, he let his hand do more of the work, massaging each place he touched.
To maintain her modesty, he shifted his hand under the blanket when he moved to her stomach.
Undressing her last night was about saving her life, but now that she was conscious, he wasn't going to invade her privacy without her permission.
As he washed her stomach, his fingers skimmed her soft skin. It was littered in bumps from old wounds, and those partially healed. He felt her flinch each time he brushed over one, and because he never wanted her to be self-conscious he made it a point to caress each one.
“We all have scars, honey,” he murmured as he moved the cloth higher, ghosting over her breasts, and noting the way she pressed her thighs together and shifted slightly. “Scars don’t make us less beautiful, they make us more beautiful because they’re a testament to our strength and determination.”
Brushing the damp cloth to her neck, Voodoo brushed it over her pulse points, then let his fingers linger, pressing just hard enough to make her eyes widen, heat, flare with desire.
“You are without a doubt the most stunning woman I have ever laid eyes on. Beautiful inside and out. Your strength is your perseverance, your determination to keep going even when everything inside urges you to give up. Can I kiss you? Properly this time?”
Eyes widening further until they were almost impossible round, her gaze dipped to his lips and then back up to meet his. It was clear she was debating with herself, but when the tip of her tongue darted out to run along her bottom lip, he knew she was going to say yes.
The second she nodded her assent, Voodoo crushed his mouth to hers.
This time, the kiss wasn't brief and undemanding, gone before it even began.
This time, he curled a hand around the back of her neck and devoured those pretty, plump lips of hers.
He kissed her like she was worthy of only good things and all good things.
Her fingers curled into his shirt, holding on to him, as she parted her lips when his tongue demanded it, giving him access without hesitation.
Drowning in the kiss was easy.
Falling headlong into feelings for this woman was a breeze.
But maintaining realistic expectations was almost impossible.
January 23rd
4:13 P.M.
“What did you do for fun when you were a kid?” Indigo asked as the late afternoon shadows began to lengthen, the temperature dropping as the winter afternoon quickly turned to evening.
She was back in Voodoo’s arms after switching between walking on her own with the help of another makeshift crutch and being carried.
With each passing minute she was feeling better.
Now that the infections were beginning to heal and her body wasn't on fire with fever, it was easier to think with a clear head. And with a clearer head, she was better able to push away that nagging at the back of her mind that she shouldn’t have let her chance to die slip past her because she might end up wishing she hadn't.
Now that she was being carried again, not focusing all her energy on putting each foot in front of the other, she found that she wanted to know more about the man who had saved her life several times over.
They’d shared several kisses now, although none as passionate as that one back in the cave when he’d been cleaning her up.
There had been little touches as well. Nothing overtly sexual, just a soft caress as he helped her stand up or sit down, a lingering stroke of his fingers as he guided her over a broken branch, letting her body slide slowly down his each time he set her on her feet.
Brushing hair out of her face, holding her hand, sitting beside her close enough that their bodies touched.