37. At Arm’s Length
THIRTY-SEVEN
AT ARM’S LENGTH
Seven
I cracked my eyelids open, blinking around blearily. Sunlight was streaming in through the window behind the kitchen sink.
Jack was curled up behind me, one of his legs draped over my knees. The ‘spoon’ position, he kept calling it. I still couldn’t make head or tail of what he was talking about.
Clay had offered us the use of his mattress last night. “You’ve been making good use of it up until now,” he said with a smirk and a wink. “And my truck is comfortable enough for one lone man for the night.”
I looked around, my eyes still blurry. We’d gone to sleep on opposite sides of the mattress, agreeing that there could be no more of all the things we’d been doing. No more until we were out the other side of this whole ordeal.
But we still wound up curled up around one another come morning.
Mm, it’s nice, isn’t it? the whisper cooed.
It was nice. It was almost as nice as everything he’d done to me the day before.
No. I needed to put all of that out of my head. We had to get through tonight, and then we could enact the next step in our plan. Get to a town, see if we could contact his … friend, Blaire, to come to our aid.
Our plans didn’t allow for ‘nice.’ They only allowed for ruthless single-mindedness. I needed to find that in myself again.
His warm body against mine, his scent blooming in my nostrils, was not helping.
“Good morning, sleepy heads!” a singsong female voice called out from behind us. I rolled over, frantically scrubbing at the sleep in my eyes. Jack’s leg dropped to the bed, and he propped himself up with a groan.
She stood in the doorway, long, blonde hair tied up on top of her head. She smiled down at us like she wasn’t a complete stranger. A Stranger.
“Who’re you?” Jack asked, voice rough with sleep. His arm snaked around me protectively. I didn’t need his protection. But I’d never had anyone who thought I was important enough to warrant protecting before him.
“I’m Cas, Clay’s Joined. He told me to expect a pair of youngsters in here. Don’t mind me; I’ll just be bustling in and out for the next hour or so, getting all the supplies moved in for tonight.
Jack and I exchanged a sleepy glance. He looked as confused and off-kilter as I felt.
Everything I’d been taught about Pures—about their vicious, bloodthirsty natures, their love of violent sexual acts, and their utter disdain for any beings but themselves—just didn’t mesh with the only Pures I’d met since escaping.
Which, to be fair, had only been two of them, but they were so utterly unlike what I’d been led to believe, that my head spun with trying to reconcile it.
“Clay mentioned that you two were in need of some new attire,” Cas continued before striding outside again. I quickly got to my feet, not liking the defenseless position we were in, down on the floor, still groggy from sleep.
She appeared in the doorway with a large cloth bag, setting it down on the table. “I’m pretty darn proud if I do say so myself. I reckon I got your sizes almost bang on!”
She drew out some trousers in a blue fabric that I didn’t recognize and something that looked soft and pink and piled them beside the bag. A pair of socks and a small scrap of black fabric were added to the pile.
“Hope you don’t mind, we don’t much go for brassieres around these parts,” she said apologetically, eyeing my chest.
For … what?
I looked to Jack, who was very pink in the face, staring at the scrap of fabric sitting on top of the pile, his lips a thin line.
“Why don’t you go take a quick shower out back … it’s Blossom, isn’t it?” the female said cheerily. “Don’t worry, Clay’s off across the clearing, prepping the bonfire for tonight. He won’t catch a glimpse.”
She picked up the pile and marched over to me, pressing the clothing into my arms. “I’ve popped a couple of towels out there for you. Lucky it’s a warm day—you won’t mind a cool shower, will you?”
Wordlessly I glanced down at the clothes, then back up at Jack. He swallowed heavily, then gave me a slight nod. His eyes were hooded, his pouty lips slightly parted.
I scuttled outside. He couldn’t look at me like that, not when we had to avoid … anything … for the foreseeable future. A cold shower might be just the thing to douse this heat inside me.
I ran the water, practically tearing myself out of the jumpsuit. Maybe I could throw it on the bonfire tonight. Rid myself of another vestige of my captivity. Burn that symbol of Baxter and Mercer, and all of them, the way I wanted them all to burn.
Yes. This was how I needed to think. I needed to stoke that rage … stoke the need to tear them apart, the way they’d tried to do to me over years and years of abuse.
Not only had this Cas female left a fluffy gray towel for me, but there was also a bar of soap. I scrubbed every inch of my skin with it until I was pink all over. Then I tackled my hair with it, too. The water ran brown.
Thoroughly clean for the first time in days, I stepped out, wrapping myself in the towel, and just for a moment, breathing in the air. The fresh, open air.
The air of my freedom.
Soon, I would ensure that every hybrid in Taiga had this same opportunity. And if Jack’s … friend wouldn’t help us, then we’d find another way.
I rubbed myself vigorously with the soft towel, keeping myself covered as I perused the pile of clothing.
The black scrap on top seemed to be some sort of underwear. Although one I’d never seen the like of before. It was little more than a sliver of fabric.
“Oh! That’s a thong, honey!” Cas piped up, making me jump. I’d been staring at the thing with such concentration that she’d been able to sneak up behind me. She plucked it from my fingers, holding it up. “My, you’re quite sheltered for a Shifter, aren’t you?”
She really didn’t know the half of it.
“This piece of dental floss tucks up between your butt cheeks. It’s great with these jeans, you’ll avoid the VPL this way.”
None of what she’d just said made any sense to me, but I took them from her with a murmured, “Thank you.”
Cas eyed me thoughtfully for a moment, then broke into a sunny smile and bustled off once more, leaving me to tug on the ‘thong’, wriggling at the sensation of the fabric against places that were so unused to any form of underwear.
I hadn’t worn underpants since they moved me to Rape Block. They’d taken them away. No need for an extra layer when I needed to be accessible.
I shook my head, pushing the thought aside. That would never happen to me again. No more dwelling on the past. Just looking to the future. A future where all of them were dead, and I was truly free.
Free to explore … with Jack.
Trying to ignore the friction against parts of me I really needed to pretend didn’t exist, I tugged on the blue trousers—jeans, Cas had called them, and slipped into the pink top. It clung to my body, the curves of my breasts so evident, my nipples standing out almost inappropriately.
But there was nothing to be done about it. I was never putting that cursed jumpsuit on again.
Taking a deep breath, steeling myself, I snatched up the socks and marched back onto the porch. And ran smack into a broad chest. That smelled like clean soap and damp earth, and salt … and my freedom. The outside world, wrapped up in a Jack-shaped package.
I let myself have one long inhale of that addictive scent before I stepped back, pressing my hand to his taut stomach. Keeping him at arm’s length.
It was the only way.
His eyes burned holes in me. Heat radiated out from my chest, where he was staring so intently. I dropped my gaze. We couldn’t look at one another, not when there was so much on the line.
That was when I noticed that he was dressed in … in a pair of jeans-trousers, too. Black ones, that hugged his backside and his muscular thighs. I let my gaze rove over his torso. A shirt in a similar soft fabric to mine stretched over his chest, the deep green of it making his hair seem even more golden in the light.
“I’m … I’m going to help Clay with the bonfire,” he grunted, stepping away and practically racing down the porch steps. I clenched my palm, his heat still searing my skin.
“You two have your work cut out for you tonight,” Cas murmured behind me. I turned to find her watching me, smile tight. “You don’t want to put distance between you, but you also don’t want to complete the Join.”
I nodded curtly.
“Is there … anything you want to tell me, Blossom?” she asked softly, closing the distance between us, her hand resting on my arm. “I might be nothing more than a stranger to you, but I’ve been known to give good advice from time to time.”
Well, firstly my name isn’t Blossom, I thought. I don’t have a name, just a number in a government experiment … where they taught me that I should hate you and want to kill you … and then they forced me to submit to male after male for reasons unknown, keeping me drugged and docile … and if I want to exact my revenge, and stop this happening to numerous others like me, I need to be strong. And being Joined is nothing but a weakness …
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Thank you, but no.”
She watched me for a long, silent moment, then she shrugged, a sad little smile tugging at her lips, and she walked past me, off the porch and out of sight.
Immediately she was gone, and my eyes were drawn, as if by an invisible string, back to the far side of the clearing. To the pile of branches that Clay and Jack were assembling. Jack’s chest was bare, his green shirt tucked into the waistband of his jeans. He wiped sweat from his forehead with an arm.
He turned, his eyes finding mine. His expression was as grim as I felt.
How many hours until the full moon sets? I wondered wearily.
Too many for any of us to resist this , the whisper confided, and for the first time, she seemed worried about the prospect of what tonight might bring.