Chapter 24 #3
The hot mess smeared over my hand, the beads, the sheets.
He kept coming, even as the aftershocks set in, whimpering and shuddering as his body tried to reconcile what had just been demanded of it.
I held him with both arms, cradling him as if he’d been thrown into a current and needed to be fished out before he drowned.
I pressed my mouth to the sweat-slicked arc of his cheekbone, tasting the salt of his exertion, and let him ride it out.
He slumped in my arms like a drowning man, boneless and slack, his chest caving on each desperate inhale.
His lashes webbed together with tears; it was beautiful, the way his body revealed every secret he tried so hard not to say aloud.
I wiped away the spit from his chin with my thumb, curled him tighter into me, and rocked us slightly, as if the motion could wick away some of the aftershock still electrical in his frame.
“Shh, shh, you did perfect. Look at me,” I murmured, and tilted his head up with a gentle pressure at the jaw. His eyes met mine, glassy and red-rimmed, the raw nerves of a man who’d been changed at the cellular level. “Stunning. The best song you’ve ever sung for me, little siren.”
I kissed his forehead. He closed his eyes on contact, soothed by the gesture.
“Was that—” He choked on the words. “Was that okay, Daddy?”
I laughed, a low, affectionate sound. “Yes, precious. Now you just stay still while I try to clean you up a little, alright?”
He nodded, eyes still closed, already halfway to sleep.
He’d made quite a mess, but he needed to rest right now more than anything. I’d make sure he showered in the morning.
And so, I cleaned him with the soft cloth, tucked the blanket around him, and lay beside him until his breathing evened out into sleep.
I didn’t sleep for a while, watching him instead, committing to memory the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of his eyelids, and the small sounds he made as he dreamed.
Mine, I thought, with a ferocity that surprised even me.
Mine to keep, mine to study, mine to protect.
The knock came early the next morning, aggravating and insistent. I extricated myself from the bed carefully, not wanting to wake Cove, and pulled on my robe before opening the door.
Ben stood in the hallway, looking uncomfortable in a way that immediately put me on edge. He was normally unflappable, efficient, invisible. If he was here, at this hour, with that expression…
“What is it?” I asked, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind me.
Ben glanced at the door, then back at me, lowering his voice. “We’ve had some inquiries. About Cove.”
I felt my body go still, every muscle tensing for fight or flight. “From whom?”
“A man named Mark. He was Cove’s supervisor at the Brisbane aquarium. He’s called the company twice in the past two weeks. Asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Whether Cove is still employed here.” Ben hesitated. “He mentioned to one of the receptionists he spoke to that Cove hasn’t been active on social media and hasn’t been in touch with any of his ex-colleagues.”
I remembered Mark from Cove’s file. The supervisor who’d dismissed Cove’s needs, who’d been impatient with his processing differences, who’d made him feel small and inadequate.
I’d disliked him, in the abstract way I disliked anyone who failed to recognize Cove’s value.
Now I felt something colder, more dangerous.
“He’s suspicious,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“It seems so.”
I considered my options. I could ignore him, hope he lost interest. But sometimes people like Mark didn’t lose interest—they dug deeper, asked more questions, eventually went to authorities.
I could threaten him, warn him off. But that would only confirm his suspicions, give him something more concrete to report.
No. There was only one solution. Mark needed to be eliminated. Not just silenced but removed entirely. A loose end that could not be allowed to unravel everything I’d built.
“Thank you, Ben,” I said, my voice steady. “I want to deal with this problem as soon as possible.”
Ben swallowed, then nodded. “Understood.”
He left, and I stood alone in the hallway. I thought about Mark, about the problem he represented, and about the solution that was already taking shape in my mind.
An invitation, maybe even from Cove himself. A tour to apologize for making him worry. I would make it easy for him to come, and impossible for him to leave.
I returned to the bedroom, sliding back under the covers beside Cove. He stirred, murmuring something unintelligible, and cuddled against me without waking. I wrapped my arm around him, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart.
Mine, I thought again, and this time the word carried an edge of violence.
Mine to keep, mine to study, mine to protect—no matter what that protection required.
I smiled into the dim room, already planning the details, and held my prize closer as I waited for the sun to come up.