Chapter Three
Cipher
My chest hurts like a son of a bitch. The pain is a sharp, constant ache, like someone took a blowtorch to my skin.
Noa has left some painkillers by my bed, so I slowly roll to my side, then slide to the edge of the bed, and pull myself up into a sitting position.
Once my head stops spinning, I grab the pills off the side table and swallow them down with a sip of water from the glass beside them.
I hate sitting around and doing nothing when there is so much that needs to be fixed, yet here I am, lying in bed.
I have never been good at sitting still and doing nothing.
Valli is no longer curled up beside me, but I can hear Noa snoring from somewhere inside the shed.
I know he was up most of the night keeping watch over me, and I feel terrible.
Sneaking around is easy when Cave isn’t around. I peer into the shed to find no sign of Valli or Cave, only Noa, and he can sleep like the dead.
My workbench calls to me from across the room, where I have a project sitting half-finished: a small music box mechanism that I have been trying to fix all week. It’s intricate work and requires patience and attention—something I won’t get if everyone is hovering over me.
I sit carefully at the workbench and pull the mechanism closer. It’s delicate, with tiny gears, and I have been cataloging how each piece works, laying all the parts out meticulously, so I can easily put it back together.
I get lost in my tinkering as Noa continues to snore lightly in the background, and I tune him out. I know time is passing, as the morning sun moves across the shed, but how much I couldn’t even guess.
I’m so focused I don’t hear the snoring stop or someone step inside, too intent on figuring out each gear’s function. I only know it’s Cave when the air changes. It’s not something I can explain; it’s almost as if the temperature drops and a chill dances across my skin.
My hands still, and I sense him behind me.
His energy feels strange; this is not the same Cave as yesterday. His hand drops onto my shoulder and his fingers dig in, making me turn to look at him.
He has blood on his hands, forearms, and shirt, and he has lost his jacket, which is automatically alarming. I focus on the blood as I move my hand to cover his. It’s dried under his nails, and in the creases of his knuckles.
When I look up into his face, his eyes are not right.
It’s not his normal dissociation; it’s something I have never seen before.
Cave normally has control over his scarecrow, but this here, right now, is not Cave.
This is all scarecrow—it has somehow managed to take over.
I know Cave is in there somewhere; I just have to help him find his way out.
“You’re hurt,” I say.
I don’t expect an answer.
I can see the difference in the way he holds his body and in his shallow breathing. He simply grips my shoulder tighter.
The Scarecrow pulls me to my feet, and he isn’t rough, but he isn’t gentle either. My Cave wouldn’t be this hands-on with me, knowing that I’ve been hurt. There is now a darkness that sits beneath his skin, one that I can feel radiating off him.
“I’m okay,” I appeal to Cave, who I know is inside there somewhere. He would want to know, even if this version of him doesn’t care.
“You’re back,” Noa says from the doorway and rushes inside, stopping beside us. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”
Cave doesn’t move; he just stands there gripping me, and through our connection I can feel my version of him.
“Tell me you went after Steedy and he’s dead.”
Cave makes a noise of acknowledgment.
Noa doesn’t ask about Rowan because if Cave confirms he is dead, then somebody has to tell Valli. We may not have known her all that long, but anyone who has a soft spot for Cave belongs with us.
I rest my head back against Cave’s chest and let his body hold me. Though it quickly goes rigid at the sound of footsteps, and I turn my head to see Valli walking into the shed.
“Hey, I brought . . .” Valli stops when she sees Cave. I watch her eyes roam over him, shoulders tensing slightly when she notices the blood, and it’s then she must also notice the change in him.
“Cave?” she says carefully, like she is approaching a wild animal, and right now she might as well be.
Noa steps in closer, and Cave clocks his movement.
“Are you hurt?” she asks.
He doesn’t turn toward her, though he keeps ahold of me.
“He’s okay,” I tell her. “He just needs some time.”
It’s partly a lie, but one she will understand. Cave needs time to come back from whatever part of his brain he is stuck within. He needs to figure it out in his own time.
Valli sets down the food and moves closer, careful not to startle him. It’s smart, as in this state, Cave is unpredictable and dangerous. One wrong move could cause a level of chaos that none of us could handle.
“My brother—” she starts.
“Don’t ask. He won’t tell you anyway,” I answer for him.
She nods in understanding. Cave is never forthcoming with information, and until he says otherwise, we will never know.
“Cave . . . I’m—”
Cave turns, and without looking at her, heads for the bathroom. His rejection causes tears to well in Valli’s eyes, and my heart breaks.
“He just needs some time,” I say again, and Noa puts his hand on her shoulder.
When Cave comes out freshly showered, Valli is still standing.
“I’m worried about you,” she says, stepping forward as he turns his back to change. “I’m sorry that this happened, but I need to know you’re okay before I leave.”
Cave turns, his jaw clenching. For a second, I think he is going to snap upon hearing that she wants to leave.
He moves closer, and her eyes grow wider as he grabs her wrist, pulling her into his chest with a growl.
Cave is possessive, and I can see his grip is bordering on painful.
When he brings her hand to his chest, Valli’s eyes fill with tears and spill down her face.
They stand there in silence, her hand pressing to his chest, their only connection, until his hand comes up and grabs her face. Cave’s fingers dig into her jaw, almost as if he’s afraid that she’ll run. His thumb brushes her cheekbone, then he leans in and slams his mouth to hers.
Valli gasps as she twists her fingers into his shirt.
Noa shifts beside me but stays quiet, which isn’t like him. Hopefully, he can see how much Cave needs this—to consume her until he grounds the beast inside him.
Cave takes her waist, backing her up as she stumbles slightly on her feet until her back hits the wall. He doesn’t break their kiss; rather, he leans into it deeper, his fingers curving into her waist.
“Mine,” he growls into her mouth.
Valli whimpers, and as Cave moves his mouth down her neck, she tilts her head back to give him better access. Her eyes close, hands fisting his shirt as if she’s reluctant to let him go.
Cave is showing her how she belongs to him in the only way he knows how. She is not going anywhere.
Cave grips her thigh and lifts her leg up, helping her wrap it around his hip as her arms snake around his neck.
“God,” she moans.
Noa leans into my side and whispers, “This is like our very own live porn.”
I smirk. Of course he would say something like that. “Shh,” I reply, because while he isn’t wrong, I won’t let him ruin their moment, no matter how hard his cock is right now.
Cave makes a feral sound, and I realize the Scarecrow isn’t fading into the background; instead, he is taking over. Some may think they are the same person, and while on some level they are, to Cave they are not.
Valli arches into him, letting him take what he needs, yet she needs reassurance just as much. I know it’s weighing on her, the guilt, thinking she is the reason I was shot. She didn’t want Cave to do anything reckless.
I overheard her talking to herself last night while she thought I was asleep, battling her demons.
But what she doesn’t realize is that she has found herself among broken, misunderstood men who would burn the world to the ground around her.
For the first time in our lives, we have found someone who can see us for who we are, someone who has no interest in changing us, and that is like finding a needle in a cornfield.
He kisses back up her neck and finds her mouth again, pouring everything he has into the action—his way of communicating when words have failed him. Valli whimpers, and my heart squeezes at the tears tracking down her face as she kisses him back.
Cave pulls back slightly, just enough to breathe as he rests his forehead against hers.
“Don’t leave,” he growls, and her eyes widen. He rarely says two words together like that.
“I’m not going anywhere unless you want me to.”
He pulls her close again, holding her like she is the only thing keeping him tethered to this world.
I turn away; this is their moment. Noa does the same, and we slip out of the room to give them privacy. We pad down the hallway and sit on the edge of my bed.
“Let me check your bandage.” He lifts the hem of my shirt, and I let him remove it for me. “He is going to be okay.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “We all are.”
But I know it may not be entirely true; the Scarecrow is loose in him now. He only has limited control, and right now he needs her, needs us, and we’re going to let that part of him have what it desires. Valli will learn fast that this is what it means to belong to broken men.
Sounds continue to flow from the main room of the shed, while Noa removes my bandage and cleans me up.
“What do you think he did with Rowan?”
I shrug. I want to say he didn’t kill him, but it’s Cave.
Noa finishes wrapping my side and sits back. The sounds are quieter now, and I lean back against Noa, resting my head on his shoulder.
“He’ll tell us in his own way when he is ready,” I say, though I’m not sure if I’m trying to convince myself or Noa. “I think we need to make sure Valli knows what she signed up for.”
Noa nods, but he knows as well as I do that if she decides she wants to leave, Cave won’t take it well.
I hope she wants to stay, but if he killed her brother, I’m not sure she will.
Rowan may have been a thorn in her side, but he’s her family.
I only hope Cave was smart enough to hand him over to Steedy or let him go.