42. Chapter Forty-Two Threads of Healing
Chapter Forty-Two: Threads of Healing
Tess
We strolled down the murky streets, the sounds of our footsteps a rhythmic melody that tried but couldn’t quite soothe my nerves. Since I’d barely eaten all day, the mixture of scents, Maverick beside me, sidewalk garbage, and sizzling street food all created a sweeping sensory blend that had me even more on edge. I hoped there’d at least be wine.
We arrived at the edges of Crimson City’s annual autumn food market, tucked away in a quiet corner of the city every October. Maverick whisked me past the eager customers waiting their turns in the first few rows of carts.
“What would you like?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not picky. ”
“Okay, blood bank?”
I laughed, rolling my eyes at him. “No! I don’t know. Nothing too saucy right now, I guess.”
“You’re saucy enough, don’t want to get sloppy. Or do you?” When I ignored him, he looked around. “Alright, pizza or tacos?”
I thought for a moment. “Tacos?”
He nodded and tugged me past a few more trucks. We got into a line for a bright orange food truck with Fright Night Fiesta scrawled on the sign above. The worker hurriedly took orders, made tacos and cracked jokes, seemingly used to the busyness of the evening.
We ordered a mixed basket of tacos to share and a bottle of wine. At the center of the collection of trucks was an array of picnic tables where we could sit and enjoy our food. We nabbed a table as another couple departed, sitting across from each other. Maverick placed the basket between us and poured our wine.
The deep crimson liquid swirled in the glass, promising a turn in the night ahead. The heady aroma enveloped my senses, spinning a false narrative of intimacy around us.
Now, with our food and drink before us, Maverick’s attention shifted entirely to me, his piercing gaze locking onto mine with that intensity of his that always left me breathless.
It was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist when he looked at me.
I wanted to believe it could be true, but a sense of apprehension lurked beneath my growing fascination. A nagging feeling of unease, despite his charm, that a part of me couldn’t shake. I couldn’t let myself forget that, as much as I craved Reaper’s undivided attention, he was dangerous. I’d seen how brutal he could be, and I had no idea what kind of darkness he hid.
“How’d you end up tangled with Ivan? ”
Pointing at myself, I raised an eyebrow. “I told you already. Stupid homeless teenager?”
“But now that we’re not running around the murder house, there’s time for more juicy details.”
I ran my finger around the rim of my cup, chewing on my lip, unable to meet his eye and sighed. “Fine. Living on the streets as a teenage runaway was rough. Harder than I thought it would be. I was starving, among other things, and Ivan saw a vulnerable girl he could manipulate.”
Maverick listened without judgment, sipping his wine. “Why’d you run away?”
“After my mom died when I was young, it was just me and my dad, and he wasn’t a good guy either. I thought I’d be better off on my own. It was naive of me, but by the time I figured it out, I couldn’t go back.”
“Was your dad as bad as Ivan?”
I closed my eyes and shook my head. My breath shuddered. “He never hurt me, but I couldn’t trust my father, and I couldn’t be around him anymore.”
“Why not?”
“I started to see my visions when I was really young. I didn’t know what they were at first. I thought they were daydreams, like dreams at night, except when you’re awake.” I laughed. “I didn’t realize daydreams usually mean an intentional imagining. I didn’t know why I kept having dreams about my dad hurting people, but I never told anyone. He never hurt me, but he did have a temper, and I tried to keep out of his way. By the time I was twelve years old, I started to piece together some of my visions with things that really happened. A vision of my dad with a red plaid shirt on, choking some woman the morning he wore the same shirt, and then I heard him leave the house after I was in bed. A vision of my friend falling off her bike, and then it happened. A vision of a classmate’s sister getting hit by a car, and then it happened.”
“How many people did your dad hurt?”
“My dad was a serial killer, probably dozens, maybe even my mom.”
“You think he killed your mom?”
“She went missing when I was three.”
He winced. “Shit.”
I shrugged, my throat tightening with thoughts of the woman I’d never know. Mothers and daughters have such an iconic relationship, whether good or bad, that when there is nothing, the emptiness is always distinctly painful, like an open sore in your chest. Like a brick in your pocket whenever you think about it. I preferred not to. “I barely remember her…” Swallowing the lump in my throat and breathing it away, I didn’t want to let this get any heavier. “Anyway, how about you? What was your childhood like? Better than mine, I hope.”
He gave me a wily look that told me I was in for a ride. “I, too, grew up in Hell.”
“Haha, what was it like?”
His eyes twinkled with, in retrospect, the knowledge he was about to blow my mind. “Not as hot as you mortals think, but warmer than New England in the summer. I do prefer it here on this plane, though, despite the fact that I’m always avoiding the seraphim hunters.”
I stilled and peered over at him, unable to create words on my tongue. My mouth went dry as I searched for a response. I took a sip of my wine for both the plausible delay and the liquid refreshment. After I swallowed, I turned back to him again. He watched me patiently, a tinge of amusement in the lines around his eyes. “Did you say Hell?”
He nodded. “Not the underworld, where your tainted souls, like your father, will go. Your ancestors got the facts all muddled. Hell is another world, like the fae realm. Which is in Hell. ”
“The fae realm is in Hell?”
“It’s a part of hell. There are three sectors, the seraphim, the devils, and the fae.”
“Oh,” I squeaked.
“I didn’t have a childhood like humans do here. I manifested as a fully grown adult…” He thought for a moment and gave me a half-smirk. “But of course, I had a lot of growing up to do anyway.”
“Thousands of years ago,” I whispered.
He nodded, sipping his wine with an amused smirk, all without taking his eyes off me. “Don’t tell anyone,” he said in equally hushed tones.
“It’s a secret?”
“It’s actually very important you don’t tell anyone. I can trust you, right?”
I nodded, barely able to breathe, but I managed to choke out, “Why are you telling me this.”
“I don’t know, I probably shouldn’t. If you tell anyone, it’ll put me and my brothers in danger.”
“Lux is your brother?”
He shook his head. “Not by blood, but they are my brothers. We came here together when we had to leave Hell, and we’ve had each other’s backs for centuries now. We’d die for each other and almost have a few times.”
I gulped what was left of my wine and picked at the seam at the bottom of my sleeve. Maverick refilled my glass, a smile on his face like he hadn’t just hit me with a deadly secret when we barely knew each other. It was way too heavy for a first date and nothing like the kind of atmosphere I thought we needed, so I wracked my brain for something to lighten the mood. When it hit me, I gazed up at him, amused at myself .
“Going by that sexy twinkle in your eyes, I’m gonna like this,” Maverick remarked, leaning in.
“I was just thinking, since you’ve been around so long…”
He nodded, drifting closer as if magnetized.
“You have a lot of experience…”
“Plenty of talent and experience,” he affirmed, leaning in, practically purring into my ear.
“Maybe I should call you Grandpa.”
“Fuck no.” His voice boomed like a fist to the table as he jerked back and crossed his arms, laughing. “You’re gonna get it later. Wait and see.”
I laughed. “Awww, why not?” Catching his eye, I bit on my lower lip, letting it go slowly.
After a beat, his tongue flicked out as he watched me and then leaned in again, emitting the heat of smoldering iron, “I’ll show you why. Soon, monstre.”
I shuddered, not exactly regretting my jab nor his promise, but unsure how to meet his intensity. “Hmm… Why don’t you act like everyone’s grandfather if you’re so old?”
He scrunched up his face and sat back in his seat, sipping his wine and swirling it around, watching the liquid slosh in rhythmic circles. He took his time considering the question, and I wondered if he was going to change the subject on me. “I don’t suffer the same expectations, I’m not falling apart physically, and I’m not marching toward oblivion every day.”
I watched him, speechless, just blinking. It was a good point. I sipped my wine, and he did the same. We were quiet for a minute. He was so damn intense, but at the same time, totally chill. I didn’t know how he pulled off both at the same time, but he did. He was way too cool for me. Was that why he acted so crazy sometimes? “Why aren’t you bored to tears?”
He cocked his head. “What makes you think I’m not? I do what I can to keep myself entertained.”
I grimaced. “Oooof. Right now?”
He shook his head, chuckling. “No, you’re a very good distraction, Tess.”
So that’s what I was. A distraction from his endless, tedious existence. I could see how sex would be a solace for someone like him, and he was damn good at it. I couldn’t blame him at all.
Getting my freedom from Ivan and attention from Maverick all at once was a whirlwind for my poor, traumatized brain. I wouldn’t know how to stop it if I’d wanted to.
Despite how uneasy I felt about the inevitable heartbreak, as I sat before him here, I couldn’t deny I was more than willing to risk my already scorched heart for the thrills.
I knew how to show a man a good time, but so far, Maverick had always taken care of me, too. That was new to me, and I’d read enough women’s magazine articles online to know even women who were free to fuck who they wanted weren’t all used to it either.
So, after we finished our wine, I gratefully agreed to go back to his place ‘for dessert.’ He’d come to me for seconds, and I was not about to pass up the opportunity.