Chapter 17 #2
And I know he’ll miss his pretty dresses and nice shoes and all the clothes he’s been comfortable in at work. I can wash them, put them in bed and sleep on them, cover them in our scent together, if it will erase the ugly memories associated with what happened here in his place.
Once I get back to him, then will come the hard part. Letting him get back to his life as it was before all of this will be tricky. I’ll be beside him, of course. I will have knives ready, and no fucks to give if someone even thinks of looking at Denver sideways.
And if he hates me for it, or if he feels smothered, it’s a risk I’m willing to take to keep him alive. There have been too many attempts on his life, and it’s not going to happen again.
I don’t care who I have to destroy to make sure of that.
When I return home, I find Denver in the kitchen with Percy, the two of them sitting at the kitchen table, mugs of herbal tea in their hands. I’m a little annoyed that Percy didn’t call me, but Denver looks well rested, so I’m calling it a win.
‘You okay?’ I ask, setting the suitcase down by the basement entrance.
‘Yes,’ he signs, smiling up at me, ‘feeling better.’
Percy looks at me, and I force myself to look at him. ‘Tell me what that means? You know I can’t read faces. I can’t interpret that.’
Percy rolls his eyes and then glances at Denver. When Denver says nothing, Percy makes a face and then signs, ‘He’s stressed. He just told me.’
Denver sighs. ‘I told you that in confidence.’
Percy shrugs. ‘Archie needs to know.’
I do need to know. This kind of information helps me understand what is happening.
‘Did you find everything?’ Denver asks, changing the subject, clearly uncomfortable.
I fight the urge to gather him into my arms and take him back down to the basement, away from my brother’s prying eyes. ‘Yes.’
He cocks his head and then sets his mug down and moves toward me. He stops just shy of hugging me, and we look at each other. He’s so pretty, even with the dark circles under his eyes and the stress lines around his lips.
‘Hug?’ he asks me, and I pull him into me, wrapping my arms around him just like I’m being held. He snuggles into me, his face pressed into my neck. He smells good—like me. Like mine. Like he’s been in my bed all day, and that’s exactly where I want him.
I feel eyes on me and peer over at Percy, who is staring at us intently. I don’t like being watched like this, and my face must tell him that because his gaze cuts away. It’s not enough though. His presence is still very here, and I need a moment with Denver.
‘Come. Outside,’ I sign as I lean back. He nods and lets me take his hand, and I tug him toward the back door with the pathway that leads to the shed and my coffin garden.
Denver slows, glancing around, taking in the old, rusting farm equipment and the faded and worn barn. It’s all lit up with lights that Percy put around the property, and everything is illuminated with a faint, pale yellow glow.
There’s a lot of work that needs to be done to the property, but that’s never really been my thing. Outside of my garden, that’s kind of Percy’s hobby.
We step down on the old gravel path that leads toward the back corner of the yard. There’s an old wooden pergola with glowing fairy lights along the top that the previous owners had clearly built themselves. Beneath it is a swing, suspended by thick chains that creak when sat on.
I don’t mind that sound, and I like the rocking motion.
Maybe both will help Denver de-stress.
Either that or I can find a cadaver, and we could cut it apart, though part of me thinks he wouldn’t like that as much as I do.
‘Come. Sit.’ I beckon him with both hands after I get settled, and he follows me onto the wooden swing, lowering himself right down next to me. He takes a second, then shifts until he’s right on top of me. I cradle him in my arms, feeling the heaviness of him, like a weighted blanket.
I like this too.
He traces his hands across my collarbone and then splays his fingers across my chest.
‘What are you going to do with this space?’ he asks, leaning back slightly so I can see him.
‘Don’t know. That’s more Percy. He has all sorts of vision. I don’t have that. I just want my coffin garden and a quiet place where no one can bother me.’
‘That sounds nice.’ His gaze travels to the gate that leads to the orchards on the other side.
‘Are those yours?’
‘No, that’s the neighbors’.’
‘What are they?’ His fingers are light in his signs, wondering.
I fight the urge to snag his hand and kiss his fingertips. ‘Peaches.’ I don’t know the sign for that, so I spell it.
‘I love peaches.’
He shows me the sign, gentle fingertips on the cheek. ASL is so much softer than I am. It’s a strange juxtaposition in my life, but it keeps me grounded when I can’t or don’t want to find my voice.
‘Want to go out and steal some?’ I ask.
He meets my gaze, and I worry I said something wrong, but then his lips twitch up in a small smile. ‘Yes, can we? I’d love something sweet right now.’
He hops off my lap and holds out his hand.
I slip my fingers through his, letting him tug me up, and then I lead him to the back gate.
It’s not locked, and I think perhaps I should get one since Denver has a stalker after him and as much as I want to believe I can be with him every second of every day, I’m not foolish enough to believe that’s true.
I push the gate open, and we slip through into the field, the coolness of the early summer night brushing across my skin. I turn on my flashlight and let the beam guide us.
We need it to talk too, so when he taps me on the shoulder, I turn toward him.
‘Do you think we’ll be caught?’ he asks.
‘Don’t care.’
He lets out a sweet laugh as we make our way deeper into the rows of peach trees. Their branches cover us, heavy with fruit, the smell intoxicatingly sweet. Sometimes when there’s a breeze, I can smell them from the backyard.
I like the scent. It makes my mouth water.
My eyes flick from where Denver is walking slightly ahead of me to his ass. It’s quite a peach, I think. I wouldn’t mind taking a bite. I don’t say that, though, and continue to let him guide me, my light flickering up into the trees so we can spot the best peaches.
And then suddenly, he stops, reaching up and cupping a fruit. He studies it for a moment, his thumb brushing along the faint fuzz on the peach’s skin, and then he twists it. I hear the soft snap as he pulls it from the branch, the leaves rustling above us.
When his gaze meets mine, I see a twinkle in his eyes.
He lifts the fruit and brushes it along his mouth before taking a slow bite.
Juice drips down his chin, sticky and sweet, and my feet move before I’m aware of it.
I step toward him and lean forward without thinking, lapping the sweetness up with my tongue.
His breath hitches, and when I step back, he holds the peach out to me.
Holding his wrist, I sink my teeth into the soft, almost overripe fruit, and the flavor explodes over my tongue. Normally, I don’t like this. It’s usually too much, but with Denver’s eyes on me, the entire world narrows down to him, and I barely notice as I chew and swallow.
‘Good,’ he signs, and then he slides his fingers into his mouth, lapping up what’s left of the juice from his skin.
My heart rate increases as I watch his tongue move across his digits, and unable to stop myself, I pull his hand from his mouth and lick up his palm. He tastes so much better than the fruit.
Denver’s eyelashes flutter, and in the light of the moon and the flashlight in my hand, he looks ethereal. Like a fucking angel, which is something I know I don’t deserve.
But I don’t care. I don’t really subscribe to social morals, and Denver is mine.
I’ve claimed him. My lips find his, and I kiss him roughly, my tongue pushing into his mouth, tangling with his.
He moans into me, and I swallow it down as I wrap my hands around him, grabbing onto his ass and grinding him up against me.
He feels like heaven.
I love the way he shivers and shakes at my touch. And not in fear. In complete surrender.
I rip my lips from his, and he chases them for a moment before letting out a shaky breath and relaxing his shoulders, and I can see it in his face when he’s back to the present.
‘You feel safe?’ I ask, needing to know this is okay.
He nods his head and swallows, his beautiful eyes meeting mine. ‘I feel safe with you.’
He leans in again, and our tongues tangle in the next kiss, my hands slipping up his shirt and touching him gently. My fingers bump up his spine and gently trace over the nape of his neck as his hips shift forward and rut against mine.
This is bliss. I want to sink to the ground and suck him off, to spin him around and eat his ass like he ate that peach, all teeth and tongue. But before I can, he pulls away and steps back.
My hands fall from him, and he blinks.
‘Am I still your little rabbit?’ he asks.
I’m not sure what that means, but just being asked that has my heart rate tripling. ‘Always.’
‘You want to chase me? You want to stalk me? Hunt me?’
My cock grows hard in my pants. I’m struggling to believe I read those signs right. ‘You want that?’
He gives a small shake of his head, his chest heaving, his eyes growing hooded. ‘I need the chase. I need to forget.’
‘You trust me?’
He glances around, and then his gaze falls on me. ‘With you. Always.’