14. Penelope
Penelope
I did not need to see to know Vaughn was in my bed. I had the mask on again. That I didn’t even feel him put it on while I was sleeping scared me. And yet it didn’t.
The spicy scent associated with him had my head turning in his direction.
How long had I been asleep? When did he come back?
I’d been up for hours after the shower. It felt like an eternity, but I wasn’t sure the exact amount of time.
Everything, especially my thoughts, were starting to blur together.
Was it day? Was it night? Had an entire twenty-four hours passed while we were apart?
“V?”
I reached out, freezing in place as my fingertips connected with warm skin and…
hair. The hardness had me hesitating, but as I made a path across the wide expanse, I knew it was his chest. The dips and definition had me swallowing back my apprehension.
I’d never had the opportunity to explore a man’s body before, and there was something about not being able to see that offered bravery when it shouldn’t have.
Danger didn’t exist.
Not when I held to the emotions that came with the voice I’d spent months communicating with.
Praying for.
Biting my lip, I paused, risking to move a small amount lower. I was in-between his ribs, even with his abs. I knew from the feel that they were just as defined and muscular as his chest. Breaths deepened under my touch, and I stopped, lifting my hand as guilt swarmed me.
“I’m so sorry. I… I’m sorry. I’ve never—I mean—I had no right.” Mortification made my cheeks burn from embarrassment.
“It’s not the most horrible way to wake up.”
Hotter, I burned.
“You’re here. I didn’t hear you come back. Are you planning to sleep here with me every night?”
“If I’m able.”
I sat up, wincing at the pain. I squeezed my hand, surprised.
“No cuffs. And my IV is out.”
“I took it out while you were sleeping. How do you feel?”
“Like I got hit by a train.”
“Sounds accurate. I got you some pills to take if it becomes too much. Unfortunately, the IV was the only thing on hand at first. It was that or nothing.”
“I didn’t mind it so much. It really helped, and I appreciate it. Can I take my mask off?”
“You can.”
I loosened and pulled the mask free. The room was pitch black making me wonder if I had taken it off at all.
“It is dark in here, right? I’m not blind? I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the darkness like this.”
“I like the dark.”
I smiled. “I can’t see a thing. If you had it this dark, why even put my mask on?”
“It wasn’t dark the entire time. Come back down here.”
V was sliding me down to face him before I could think to argue. He pulled me into his arms, wrapping himself around me, cautious of my injured side.
“What are you doing?”
“Feeling.”
I tilted my head back to look at him; despite I couldn’t see. “Feeling what?”
“This. How you fit. What do you think?”
My lids narrowed, and my lips pressed together. I brought my head down to the crook of his arm, coming even with his chest. Hair tickled my nose, and I breathed in deep, snuggling in as I lost myself in the exotic spiciness.
“Comfortable. Hmm. Sort of perfect. I like the way you smell.”
He laughed, and I tilted my head back in surprise.
“What was that?”
“You like the way I smell? Uh… thank you?”
“It’s nice.”
“Well, you smell nice as well.”
“…V?”
“Yeah, Penelope?”
I didn’t miss the huskiness of his voice.
“This isn’t going to last, is it? You being nice to me like this.”
He paused. “No. It’s not.”
I nodded, leaning my forehead against his chest.
How did this feel so comfortable? So right?
I should be fighting this stranger with everything I had.
He killed my parents. He killed John. He was also the only one who had treated me civilly in as long as I could remember.
The long talks. The care in his words as he refused to let me talk down about myself.
I was so conflicted. Or… I should have been.
Arms tightened around me and stubble against the top of my hair had my eyes flaring wide.
“You don’t have the mask on.”
V stiffened.
“Can I feel?”
“Feel?”
“Your face. I can’t see it. Can I feel it?”
“No.”
“I’ll let you feel mine.”
“Penelope—”
“Real quick. I just… please.”
He made a sound. “You have one minute.”
I smiled, easing my hand up. Coarse hair met the pads of my fingers, and I followed his jaw up, moving over his cheek to his eye.
I pushed even higher, closing my eyes and seeing him come to life in my mind.
I followed his forehead up to thick hair…
slightly curly hair, but big curls. Barely even curls, almost waves?
My hand dropped again, tracing down his straight nose, easing to caress over full lips.
They parted and my breath caught as he bit gently into my finger.
My own lips separated, and I didn’t think as I slid my leg to settle between his.
All the emotions I’d had when we talked on the phone came barreling back through.
It kept coming. That warmth—the tingling—the yearning…
He’d been a savior then, too. But that’s not what he was—or was he?
“I think you were right. Bald. Bad teeth. Crooked nose.”
V laughed again, shaking me in his arms.
“You’re beautiful,” I breathed out.
He grew silent, moving in. Lips brushed mine, and I kissed him back. I couldn’t stop my hands from settling against his chest. Where I’d meant them to be a wall to keep him back, my nails sunk in. V moaned, deepening the kiss and slipping his tongue into my mouth.
Tingling and heat took over. I quickly broke away.
“We can’t. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
No words. V eased back, disappearing from the bed.
When the light came on and he was back in the mask, I regretted ruining the moment.
He said this wouldn’t last, and somewhere deep inside, I knew he was right.
There was a darkness about him that I wasn’t going to escape.
I had no idea what V planned to do with me, or if he was serious about anything he’d already said.
What I did know was if he was telling the truth, I was safer away from him.
Why was the thought so hard to accept?
The man may have saved me from my father. He may have even saved me from John. But he had killed them. He’d taken their lives, and murder was not okay. I knew that. But why did I feel safer than ever? Why didn’t I fear him or feel angry for what he’d done? The questions kept repeating.
Guilt.
It lived in me like a home.
“Are you mad at me?”
“Mad at you?” He glanced over, and I sat up, looking at the table. It wasn’t empty anymore. It had an electric kettle sitting on top, and there was a small mini fridge next to it. “Penelope, why would I be mad at you?”
“I led you on. I touched you. I kissed you back.”
“Which I enjoyed. You’re not in trouble, and I’m not mad. Not at you.”
I watched V as he heated up the water.
“You’re mad at yourself. Why?”
“You tell me.”
He turned, crossing his arms over his bare chest to face me. At the tattoos covering from his wrists to his shoulders to his chest and waist, I gasped.
“That is… amazing.” I scooted from the bed, holding the hospital gown closed and tight around me as I headed forward. “You have tattoos.”
He didn’t move.
“Tell me why I’m mad at myself, Penelope.”
I stopped in front of him, studying the designs imprinted all over his body.
“I’m not sure why you’re mad. I truly can’t think of a single reason why.
But it’s about me, right?” Before he could answer, I reached out, tracing my finger down the sword that was thrusting towards an opposing knight.
Blood. Chaos. Heart. “This is fascinating.” I cautiously took his wrist, extending his hand so I could see more of the scene.
I looked from where I held to his mask. “Are you mad at this? At me being so… pushy? Nosey?”
“No.”
“Good. I don’t want you mad.” I couldn’t help but let him go and look back to the gorgeous art.
I followed the battle down to the bottom, realizing I was suddenly level with the lining of his pants.
I eased up, hugging back to my stomach. “It’s so beautiful.
The scene… what does it mean? Does it have meaning? ”
“Not today.”
He reached forward, cupping my cheek, bringing my focus off the tattoos and back to him.
“Penelope, women are something I haven’t been interested in for a long time.
Not like this. You’re different. You make me feel something.
You make me question things that have never crossed my mind.
That’s a good thing. But what I feel, it’s not good.
Which is fine. You like me now. You won’t soon, and things will be easier then. ”
I stepped back, out of his hold. “Easier for you. Not for me.”
“Easier for me because of you. This…” He reached back for my face, only to stop himself.
“This is hard for me. If you’re mad, you’ll fight.
You’ll push back. That’ll be better for both of us.
Love never makes life easier. It complicates things.
It makes people vulnerable. If you hated me, but tolerated me, was loyal to me, that would be for the best.”
“You’re serious. You really believe someone will try to hurt me or you?”
Hesitation.
“You don’t question my mention of love?”
I paused, looking down.
“We’re… not strangers. Not completely.”
“But you’re not acting as if I’m crazy for saying we’ll love each other someday when we shouldn’t. I could love you, Penelope. That scares me. It should scare you.” He took a step forward, pausing. “Do you think you could someday love me? If I were like before. When we talked?”
“I wanted to meet you. I wanted—” I stopped, hating how the words left me with such desperation. “Go back to my question about someone hurting us. You really think they will?”
Silence. It was as if he wanted to continue and not answer my new question. “I don’t think, I know.”
“That doesn’t make sense. In what world would us being together require us to fight to live? To survive?”
“It’s sort of like hell… but not so hot.”
Frustration sparked. “I feel like this is a big riddle. I don’t understand.”
“Not yet, but someday you might.”
“Someday, because you don’t know if I can… survive?”
V was quiet so long, I felt myself shift under his gaze. I hated not being able to see his eyes. It was the electric kettle that had him turning away from me.
“Tea. Excellent.” My gaze lowered only to lift back to him. My throat was so tight, I could barely talk. “Do they know yet? About my parents?”
“They know something. They don’t know much.”
“Rose would have found the bodies first thing in the morning.”
“There were no bodies, Penelope. No evidence.”
My head reared back.
“What do you mean? Of course there were bodies. I saw them.”
“And they were gone just as fast. There were no bodies when your cook arrived. No blood. No scattered papers or disarray.”
“But—How?”
V finished making the tea. He turned, reaching behind and scooping me up to sit on the table.
“The world is not what you think it is, and almost everyone you know are not who you believe they are.” V picked up the cup, pausing before handing it to me.
“If you’re going to make it through this, you have to see into the secrets.
You have to realize that everything you’ve ever been told is a lie.
And I’ll show you. The truth is darker than any figment of your adventurous imagination.
In the next few weeks or even months, you will do things you can’t stomach.
Your brain won’t even be able to process what you face.
But you will do them because I think you’re probably the only woman who can. …And you’ll do them for me.”