Chapter 19
DENVER
There’s something to be said about waking up in bed with a lover after getting my brains fucked out. I’m still sore all over from the attack, and I’m on edge because I still have no idea when this will all be over—if it will ever be over.
But right now, I’m content. Archie’s chest is pressed against my arm, rumbling with what I assume is a soft snore. In his sleep, he looks soft.
Young. Unburdened by the hard, heavy life I know he has.
I still don’t totally understand who these brothers are, what they do, or why they moved to town. I do know they’re dangerous. I know that I’m safe with them, but only because I’m not on their bad side.
It should scare the absolute piss out of me, but it doesn’t. Apart from putting on feminine clothes and performing onstage, I’ve never done anything risky. I took the easy path. The safe path.
I majored in Deaf studies in college because I wanted to better understand the community after growing up in a hearing family. I wanted to connect to the community I had been denied when I was younger.
And I did.
I made friends, I dated, I finally felt like myself.
I found drag in that community too, and it was amazing, but nothing ever really happened until the stalker turned up in my inbox and eventually on my doorstep.
And even that was eventually handled after Thorne arrived to deal with it, and while he might be back, nothing about me has fundamentally changed as a person.
I’m still me. Enthusiastic and wild onstage and a bit of a saltine cracker when I’m not performing.
A small piece of me is confused and a little worried because what could Archie possibly see in me other than a man who wears panties and enjoys being fucked in a graveyard?
What could I possibly offer him besides that? And when I get comfortable and settle a bit more into my own skin here with him, will he still want me then?
The uncertainty burns in my stomach, and it’s not helped by the fact that my emotions are slightly unstable from the concussion, and the pain is making it hard to tolerate anything else. I think I might have overdone it.
My bladder throbs in my gut, so I attempt to roll away from Archie, who tightens his grip around me, and I feel another, heavier rumble against my arm. His lips form a heavy word, and though I can’t read it, I’m pretty sure he’s saying, “No.”
I tap him until one bleary eye peers open at me. ‘Bathroom,’ I sign.
He blinks like he’s confused, then licks his lips and slowly draws his arm away. He tenses, like he’s debating whether or not he’s going to come with me, and that’s where I might have to draw a line.
I don’t mind the voyeurism. I don’t mind the stalking—and god help me, because I think I actually mean that. But I will stop at him watching me have a piss.
In the end, he rolls onto his back and lets me go, though I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as I walk to the bathroom and close the door. There’s a tiny lock on the handle, and I debate about turning it, but in the end, it’s probably better if I don’t.
If I get dizzy and fall over, I’d rather not have him break the door down to get to me. I really can’t afford that sort of repair on my shit-ass salary.
I take the reprieve for what it is as I take care of business, though I realize as I’m washing my hands and putting water on my face that I don’t know that I want one. I like being around Archie, and that’s new for me.
I’ve always been a social person, but I’ve never wanted to cling so badly as I do to him. I’ve never felt so…fulfilled.
I certainly didn’t think I was going to find that satisfaction with a hearing man, though I’ve never been as closed off to the idea as a lot of my Deaf friends are. But I most definitely didn’t picture myself falling for someone who might be, well.
A killer.
Or something like it.
I was horrified to hear about Leaf’s aunt and what she’d done. And now look at me. I’m letting one fuck me senseless. With a knife. With his dick. And I’m loving it.
I stare in the mirror, grimacing at the bruises still marring my face, but apart from that, I don’t seem any different. I’m still the same person—Denver by day, Glimmer Dear some nights. A gay man who likes lace and silk, who looks good in red lipstick and a smokey eye.
And a man who apparently also likes being chased in the dark through an orchard with a concussion and fucked silly in a basement bedroom three feet away from an actual coffin.
I feel a rumble under my feet and realize that Archie is either pacing or knocking. I’ve probably been in here too long, and frankly, I need to face the day. I have two more weeks left of classes before summer’s here, and I just need to get through that, grade everyone’s finals, and then…
Well, I don’t know what comes next. I need to handle this stalker problem because I refuse to live the rest of my life in fear, and then I can figure out the rest.
Taking a breath, I reach for the door handle and pull it open, unsurprised to find Archie with his shoulder pressed against the opposite wall. His leg is moving, and I glance down to see him tapping a pattern on the floor, which is probably where the vibrations came from.
It’s a stim. I can tell. He seems stressed, and I know it’s my fault.
‘Sorry,’ I sign quickly.
His brows furrow. ‘Sorry, why?’
I don’t really know what to say to that. Sorry for being me. Sorry for being complicated. For bringing nonsense into your life? It all sounds so pathetic and self-deprecating, even if it’s honest.
Archie doesn’t wait for me to answer. He closes the distance between us, pulling me out of the doorway and pressing me against the wall, and then he leans in to nose along my neck and jaw.
A groan escapes me. I feel it rumble against my throat, and it barely has any time to escape on my breath before he’s catching the sound on his tongue.
As he kisses me, my toes curl, and I’m only just aware of him pressing a small, hard box against my palm. When he breaks away, I’m a little dazed and look down to find my CI case in my hand.
‘Why?’
‘Work,’ he answers back. ‘You wear them at work.’
I…do. I usually take them off during class, but it’s odd to me that he noticed. Then again, it shouldn’t be. He notices more than I do, even with my Deaf eyes.
‘I need to get dressed, then we can go to your class,’ he signs, and that snaps me out of it.
My gaze meets his. ‘We?’
He lifts a brow at me and gives me a look. ‘Yes. I drive. You still have concussion.’
‘No, but…’ My hands hover in the air when I realize what he’s implying. ‘You can’t come in with me.’ I knew he was going to keep me safe on campus, but I didn’t think that was going to involve him coming to class with me.
His lips part on what I assume is a scoff, and he folds his arms over his chest. He doesn’t answer, but he is unmoved by my protests.
‘Archie,’ I plead, using his sign name. ‘People are going to ask questions if they see you. And it’s not like my classes will be fun for you.’
‘I won’t get bored.’
I almost laugh, but I can tell he actually thinks that’s what I’m worried about. I pass a hand down my face, then let out a slow breath. He seems to catch on that I’m not worried about him, and his face goes blank.
‘You can’t be on campus alone. I can’t trust Percy to find you in time.’
He’s not wrong, but that’s also beside the point. ‘I have morning and afternoon classes today. I won’t be there at night.’
‘Stalkers don’t care about the time of day,’ he insists. His signs are stiff, and he’s starting to look actually distressed, which is making my heart hurt. ‘You can’t be alone. We go. You teach. I watch.’
‘How do I explain that?’
He shrugs. ‘Whatever you want.’ And then he turns away like somehow that’s enough of an answer for me. And as much as I want to chase him down and insist he can’t do this—that he can wait in his car in the parking lot—the fear of being attacked again is too strong.
If anyone asks, I’m still not sure what I’ll say, but I know all the fight has drained out of me.
Besides, it’s only two weeks.
I can get by for two weeks.
I’m not going to last a day.
On the way to the campus, I figured maybe I could have Archie pretend to be a student and sit in the corridor with a laptop and guard the classroom, but he didn’t even give me a chance to suggest it.
I was running late, so I didn’t have time to go to my office before class started, and he marched after me, right on my heels, as soon as I opened the door.
There were already several students in the corridor waiting for me, and they were all openly staring at him as they made their way to their seats.
Archie, of course, got himself comfortable at the desk, leaning back with his arms behind his head and the smallest smirk on his face. He’s fucking enjoying this.
I turn my back to the class and sign very small in front of my chest so no one can see, ‘You are Deaf.’
He blinks at me, raising a brow.
‘It’s a lie, I know. Can you lie?’
He rolls his eyes, then jerks his chin in a nod.
‘Good. You’re Deaf. Don’t answer questions. You’re observing for another college who’s interested in implementing the Deaf teacher program.’
It’s obvious he doesn’t know what I’m talking about, but he doesn’t argue with me. He drags his tongue over his lower lip, and my dick immediately threatens to get hard. His eyes glint, and it takes everything in me not to smack him because he fucking knows what he’s doing.
I’m just grateful I haven’t taken my CIs out yet so I know whether or not I’m making any improper, involuntary noises.
I turn my back to him and sign a quick good morning to my class. ‘We are doing revisions today, so please get out your notes and get into pairs.’
I can see a thousand questions in their eyes, but luckily, my students are more focused on passing their final than they are on asking questions about the absurdly hot, doe-eyed, cherub-faced yet slightly terrifying man in the corner of the room.
And that is the only thing that saves me from total disaster.