Chapter 22 – Lumen
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lumen
Everything is sped up and moving crazy fast. The glow sticks blur by way too quickly to focus on them, but then the song slows, almost stuttering, and everything switches to slow motion.
“Oh yeah, you’re toasted,” Kincaid says, appearing next to me. “Relax your jaw. You’re grinding your teeth.”
Riser is still behind me, swaying to the music. I mean, I can’t see him, but his hands are on my hips.
“Yeah,” I agree, blinking until my vision goes back to normal.
“Did you like the inhaler earlier?” Kincaid asks.
“Yep.”
“Cross your arms over your chest and come stand right in front of me.”
“Why?”
“I’ll crack your back for you. There’s nothing else like it.”
I smile over my shoulder at Riser before stepping in front of Kincaid and doing exactly what he said.
He loops his arms around mine, lifting me and kinda shaking me in the air.
It cracks something, and it does feel good.
When he places me back on my feet, he wraps his hands around my elbows.
He lifts me again and leans back, and every bone in my body feels like it cracks and pops.
“Whoa,” I groan.
Everything is busy and chaotic, which is weird when I’m calm and completely at peace. I have no idea how long he hugs me from behind while I lean against his chest with my arms still crossed, but it has to be a while.
I sway to the music, enjoying the feeling of being confined in Kincaid.
“You gonna fall over if I let you go?” he asks, chuckling.
“I’m good.”
He steps back, and I assume he’s talking to Riser when he asks, “You want me to do yours?”
“Fuck yes,” Riser says.
The spinning and flipping of the lights distracts me again, and by the time I check on them, Kincaid is bear-hugging Riser from behind.
I grin and make my way over. “Can I get in on that hugging action?”
Human connection is the best part of tonight. It’s like we’re all linked on some deeper level that humanity lost along the way.
“Come on, sweetheart,” Kincaid says, opening his arms.
Riser wraps me up in his hold, looping his hands over my ass while Kincaid does the same, just higher.
Riser ends up as the filling in our sandwich, and I have no idea why my soul is convinced that he needs it, but I’m not about to question it.
I feel a million times lighter than I have since Theo signed his contract with Ruined Records.
“I’m thirsty and ready to snuggle,” I say, stepping back as my body pulses with heat. My eyes meet Kincaid’s over Riser’s shoulder. “Are you coming?”
“I will.” K nods. “I just wanna find Ten and Parish and see if we can kick out the people who followed us back from the bar before I settle in.”
“That makes sense,” I blurt out, staring at my hand as Riser wraps his in mine. “You’re coming, right?”
“Yup.” He grins, and I develop heart palpitations.
That can’t be healthy.
I honestly don’t care.
I need more of those smiles from him. He’s always so observant and serious. Seeing him finally relax and enjoy himself is addictive.
The room is dark. Some light filters through the huge window, since the curtains aren’t pulled, but it’s mostly ambient lighting from the city.
Kincaid must have been responsible for lowering the volume of the music.
When Riser and I first came into the primary bedroom, it was so loud that it vibrated in my bones.
Now it’s at a reasonable level, where I can still hear it, but it’s not obnoxiously loud.
My eyes lose focus as I stare out the window. We’re pretty high up, though I didn’t memorize the floor or anything. The lights twinkle, sparkling magically. Sweat beads on my back and between my breasts, and I pull a hand up to fan my face.
“Is it hot in here?” I ask. “Did we maybe forget to turn on the air conditioner for this room?”
“Nah, that’s normal,” Riser says from behind me. He slides up to my back, looping his arm around and offering me a bottle of water. “You should hydrate. You’ll feel like shit tomorrow if you let yourself get too dehydrated.”
“I’m not thirsty,” I say on autopilot.
“You’ll feel better if you drink.” He gives the bottle a shake.
I take it and drink a long swig.
Huh.
It is refreshing.
Spinning around, I offer it to him. He takes a drink before prying the cap from my hand and setting the bottle down on the nightstand.
He’s a few inches shorter than Malcolm and Kincaid, but he still towers over me. I rise onto my tiptoes, and he dips his head, meeting me in the middle for a kiss.
My hands rest on his shirt to keep myself steady.
That woman was right.
It is soft.
His lips are too, and his tongue.
His short stubble is scratchy, and I’m living for all the sensations. My fingertips work under the material of his shirt, and I gasp. His warm skin feels better than the shirt.
“I’m so hot. I don’t know how you’re not boiling alive,” I say between kisses, lifting the material and tugging it up his chest. He yanks his shirt off, and it disappears as I stare into his dark eyes. There’s so little light, but I don’t need any to know he’s handsome.
His mouth lowers to mine once more, and my hands land on his forearms as I lift up to kiss him. Hell, I don’t even know when I settled flat on my feet, but I love how sturdy he feels.
Riser has the slenderest build of the three guys, and I want to spend some time exploring him without his shirt on.
Pure bliss sizzles under my skin as my eyes fall shut, and I lose myself in the moment.
My hands run up and down his forearms, and my forehead wrinkles.
What are those bumps?
Wait…
I thought he took his shirt off.
I lower until I’m flat on my feet, breaking the kiss.
My hands fly to his left forearm, and I bring it up, examining it.
He’s shirtless.
I didn’t imagine that.
My jaw falls as my thumb runs over the jagged lines. They’re immediately recognizable, and I gasp.
There are scars in varying levels of thickness and depth.
Those are familiar.
It’s the deep, thick wounds horizontal and vertical across both wrists that rock me to my foundations.
I don’t know how he could even physically manage those kinds of injuries and still be here.
I don’t want to make assumptions, because I know how it felt when someone did it to me.
I just don’t know how the cross-shaped scars could be anything but a suicide attempt.
I guess he could have taken cutting too far, but that doesn’t seem right.
I tease my fingertip over the marred reddish-purple skin, and my chest seizes. It’s so easy to imagine how badly he must have been hurting to take such a drastic step.
“Ahh, fuck.” Riser weaves his free hand into my hair and tilts my face toward his. “I would have given you a warning, but I forgot.”
It’s like I can sense his pain echoing into me, and I wish I could make it stop.
“I hate that you were ever hurting—”
“It was a long time ago,” he says, cradling my head in his hand. “After my ex…” He shrugs. “It fucked me up for a while. My roommate found me, called 911, and I didn’t die, which I’m really grateful for now, but at the time, I was ready to be done. I know they’re ugly—”
I let his arm drop to his side as I try to pull myself out of my dress.
Riser releases my hair, helps me get free of the material, and tosses it aside.
“Trust me when I say I get it.” I turn, pushing down the band of my panties. “Sometimes it’s easier to focus on physical pain than it is to have to experience emotional misery.”
“Jesus, Lumen.” Riser reaches over, running his fingers over the ugly raised red lines. “Those aren’t from a blade.”
“Knives scare me,” I admit. “The bottom of a grill match was what I settled on after quite a bit of trial and error. The friction burned, but not as sharply, and it also felt good. They also didn’t bleed as much, which made them easier to hide.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, brushing the backs of his fingers along the ones on my lower stomach and pelvis.
“I have a few on my arms and near my knees, but they’re hardly visible anymore. After my mom left, I struggled a lot. I spent years battling depression and anxiety. I couldn’t understand why she didn’t love me enough to take me with her.”
“That had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her,” he says.
My eyes fall shut, and I nod.
I know that now, but I was just a teenager, and I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong.
If I’d been better behaved maybe she would have loved me more…
I open my eyes and stare at the wall. “Wearing jeans and long sleeves all the time was apparently a red flag, especially in summer. My dad was suspicious and asked my doctor to check me over. She found them.” I shrug.
“I didn’t stop. I just got sneakier. I moved to places it would be inappropriate to ask to see.
” A shaky sigh slips from my lips. “My dad thought I wanted attention. I didn’t.
I wanted to choose which pain I experienced on my terms.”
“I get it,” he says seriously.
My eyes fly to his, my head tilting.
He does get it.
I can feel it in my bones, and that’s a connection I’ve never made before. I’ve always been self-conscious of my scars. I didn’t want anyone to see them. Any time they did, they made judgments and assumptions.
I was never suicidal.
I was just trying to find a lifeboat to carry me through long enough that life didn’t suck quite so badly, and I got there eventually.
Riser’s hands land on my hips, giving a squeeze. “I noticed you don’t have any tattoos. If you ever need an outlet, might I suggest trying it? I did a bunch of piercings at first, and they helped, but tattoo pain is two-fold. You get the rush during the tattoo itself, then the healing pain.”
“Is that how you ended up covered in tattoos?”
Okay, that was probably a stupid question. Seeing Riser without his shirt, I can verify that he is nearly as covered as Mal or Kincaid. The only area he doesn’t have tattoos is the underside of his forearms.
“Yeah.” He nods, making his dark curls fall over his forehead.
My teeth dig into my lower lip as my eyelashes flutter.
Riser is hot.
I’m not a huge fan of cyber sigilism tattoos, but his fit the curves and lines of his body perfectly.
His dark brown eyes sparkle in the low light, and I have the nearly uncontrollable urge to climb him.
“You should take your pants off, so we can cuddle on the bed. If you still want to?” I ask, shivering as a bead of sweat slides down my spine. “It’s really comfy. I mean, I haven’t slept on it yet, but I noticed how soft it was after my shower earlier.”
“I absolutely want to cuddle with you,” he says, his hands falling to his belt.
It’s so weird.
I always stress about the moment someone notices my scars. Hell, I had sex with Theo with the lights off for weeks until he put his foot down and asked what the deal was.
This conversation went much more smoothly than the night he found out.
Sometimes I think it’s possible to be in the right place at the right time with the right person, and something just clicks.
Yeah, we both have damage, but because I went through severe depression, I can better understand him and vice versa.
I had so many questions about Riser before, but I get it now. He’s empathetic and always trying to look out for everyone around him because he understands what it’s like to truly suffer.
Riser kicks out of his shoes and jeans, bending down to peel himself out of his socks. It leaves him close to my stomach, and I frown as he nuzzles his face to my hip.
My hand falls to cradle his head, and his soft curls feel incredible against my skin.
His teeth dig into my side, and I squeal, bouncing on my toes.
“Riser!”
“Sorry, beautiful.” He chuckles. “The intrusive thoughts won.”
Okay, that felt wicked good.
I’d like to get back to the feeling amazing part of tonight.