Round 53 #2
“Risky.” He walks all the way to his bed and gently tugs me around, pressing his hands to my shoulders and pushing me to sit.
Then he lowers onto his knee and carefully drags the zipper down on the side of my boots.
Left first. Then the right. He peels my socks off and massages my calf muscle through the barrier of my jeans.
“A smart woman is a dangerous woman.” He peeks up from beneath his lashes. “What else?”
“That my parents’ marriage was happy, and even when I was deep in my grief, I remained thankful they were together. He said I wasn’t—I’m not—particularly religious, but I found comfort in the idea of an afterlife, and hoped my mom, dad, grandpa, and brother were happy. Together.”
“Seth?”
Stunned, I blink. Blink. Blink. “H-how did you know his name?”
“Billy’s been hard at work the last two days. He’s pulling files all over, trying to figure things out.” He pushes to his feet and tugs me up with him, then he places his fingers on the button of my jeans, but searches my eyes. “No sex. I’m not even gonna look at your ass, I promise.”
I choke out a soft, whimpering snicker. “You can undo them. It’s okay.”
He unsnaps the button and drags the denim down, rescuing my phone from the limp pocket, the clatter of my corkscrew weapon echoing against the floor.
He places both on his bedside table, walks to the doorway, and flips the light out until the room is drenched in darkness, then, coming back, he drags his shirt over his head.
But instead of tossing it aside, he stops in front of me in the shadows and peels Poppy from my grasp.
She meows and whines, harrumphing as he sets her on the bed, then he carefully undoes my top, drawing the silky material up and letting it drop to the floor.
He flips the catch on my bra open and peels the plain cotton away, then finally, he turns his shirt the right way out and plops it over my head.
“You can’t comfortably sleep in a bra and jeans.
And I’m not gonna make you sleep in your panties and nothing else. ”
“So you’ll give me the shirt off your own back?” I lift the fabric to my nose and take a long, appreciative whiff. “Thank you.”
“I’m not as noble as I sound. I have other shirts nearby.
” Chuckling, he steps around me and pulls the blankets down, covering Poppy with the sheet because he knows it sends her into a frenzy of escape.
Then he helps me onto the bed, sliding in after me and nudging me to my side.
He folds me into the shape of his body, tucking his legs up beneath mine and laying his arm across my torso.
He settles with his lips and nose not so far from the back of my neck, his warm breath giving him away.
But he doesn’t kiss. Doesn’t taste.
“Are you tired?”
“Exhausted,” I sigh. “But not. Is that crazy?”
“No. It’s normal.” He plays with my hair, stroking the long locks and tangling them around his finger.
Poppy, sniffing me out in the dark, plods her way over the dips of valleys of our bodies, climbing the peak of my hips, and tumbling over the other side, where the blankets give way.
Then she finds her spot under my chin, curling into place and dropping with a sweet meow.
“Are you tired?” I whisper. “Can you stay up a little longer and talk?”
“All night, if you want me to.” He drags his fingertips over the ball of my shoulder, warming my skin with his every exhale. “Billy’s got an appointment with his judge friend in the morning.”
“Yeah?”
“Mm. He’s heading down to grease some wheels and get things moving a little faster.
He’s collected a bunch of information about you now that we have your real name and date of birth, and he’s got a bunch on Bisek, too, since he’s complying and providing consent to pull basically anything we ask for.
Getting information on Liam, though, is a little harder, since he’s not here and he hasn’t been seen in a good long while. ”
“The judge will make that easier?”
“That’s the plan. Court orders hold weight, and subpoenaing records is a matter of getting the right signatures and paying the administration fees. Did you know Seth was posthumously awarded the Purple Heart?”
My heart stutters and breaks, tears trickling over the bridge of my nose and down to soak into my pillow. “Really?”
“Mmhm. Not only because of his sacrifice, but because his last mission included a sneaky little skip-hop across enemy lines to rescue an American reporter who was taken hostage. She’d been held for weeks already.
Brutalized. Starved. Tortured. They made an example of her, hurting her until she was nearly dead…
over and over and over again. Only to bring her back again.
It was like a game to them. A cruel, sadistic exercise in depravity.
There’d been other attempts to rescue her in the past, but it was Seth who got her out in the end.
” He tucks his face forward so I feel the brush and kiss of his lashes on my flesh. “Seems bravery runs in the family.”
“How did he die?” I blink, blink, blink fresh tears from my eyes. “Did he suffer?”
“He was shot,” he rasps. It’s clear he doesn’t want to tell me, and whatever he does say is sure to be a watered-down, less violent version of the truth.
But he wraps me up close, holding me through the pain.
“Her name is Marilyn. The reporter. She was weak and scared. Malnourished. Traumatized.” He sighs.
“They were keeping her in a bunker, heavily guarded by dozens of enemy soldiers who did unspeakable things to her. But he carried her out on his own. He saved her, and when the enemy opened fire, he absorbed more than a dozen rounds.”
My breath hitches.
“He didn’t falter, Rose. Even when, from a medical standpoint, I know he should have.
He got her to safety, and only then did he succumb to his injuries.
I read Marilyn’s statement, where she said he was so kind to her, so comforting when she was scared.
And then, at the end, she got to hold his hand until it was over.
She said how brave he was and, even when it hurt, he smiled.
He said…” He blows out a shaky, shuddering breath.
“He said, did you know they give out medals for this shit?”
I choke out a ridiculous laughing cry. “He did you know’d her?”
“And then he said his baby sister will probably come and get it for him. Because he probably wasn’t gonna make it back, and he was sorry he didn’t zigzag like you told him to.”
“I told him to zigzag?” I drown in the tears nestled in my throat. “Really? That’s the best advice I had?”
He places the sweetest, gentlest kiss on the back of my neck. “I’ll show you the statement whenever you wanna see it. He spoke of you with his last breath, Rose. Literally. He loved you so much.”