“But I’m your dick.”
Those four words rob me of the ability to draw my next breath. All I can do is numbly nod and close the door. I walk to the sink to stare at the stranger in the mirror. This cheerful person I’ve never met. A woman with a spark in her eyes and a rosy complexion. Someone with a lingering smile on lips swollen from rough kisses rather than angry fists. I’ve had a glow since we’ve been here, and I’m terrified the truth will extinguish this light.
But that’s a worry for another day.
Today, apparently, I have to take Wraith on a tour of a town he knows like the back of his hand. But, whatever. Should be interesting. I step in the shower and wash away the remnants of last night, the hot water fantastic on my aching muscles. I’m sore between my legs after two wild rides that by no means gently introduced me to sex.
As I lather my body, I still feel Wraith’s hands on me. His mouth and tongue teasing me, and I already crave his touch on fevered flesh. But first, I have to eat, because after burning about a zillion calories, I’m absolutely starving, and the delicious aroma of bacon wafting up from the kitchen has my stomach growling.
Once I’m done in the bathroom, I ditch my usual drab attire and go for one of my new outfits. The black jeans fit like a glove and the pink sweater hits me at the waist. I pull on black boots that ride up my calves. Ava picked them out, and I hadn’t planned to wear them. Ever. But, why not? Everyone is right. I’m twenty-four. Not ninety-four. I have no reason to blend into the background anymore. Here, I don’t have to live in survival mode. In fact, I grab the few dresses I brought from Gomorrah and bring them with me when I make my way to the kitchen.
Wraith, who’s at the stove frying bacon, raises a brow when he sees the armful of ugly earth-toned clothing. Jester’s at the table, and humiliation slaps me full in the face after what happened between us.
God, I can barely look at him.
“Morning, James,” he croaks. The man is obviously suffering from a monster hangover.
“Morning,” I mutter.
Wraith points at my bundle with the thongs. “What’s up with that?”
I open the trash can and dump the dresses in it, smashing them down. “I’m throwing out what’s left of my old life.”
Wraith winks at me. “Smart girl.”
“Nice.” Jester nods, smirking. “Wraith fucked you right into being a whole new person. Always suspected he had a magical cock. But this… You. Confirms it.” He looks at Wraith. “We need to bottle that shit. We’ll be millionaires.”
I sit opposite him, my cheeks flaming. “But can you stop, please?”
He wags a finger at me. “Oh no, James. After last night, there’s no being embarrassed around me. Not after my tongue was down your throat.”
“You realize I’m going to knock you the fuck out, right?” Wraith snaps.
“Won’t be the first time you and I had a tussle. Sure as hell won’t be the last.” Jester shrugs. “Besides, I owe you a beating for starting that shit anyway, so bring it, bitch.”
“All’s well that ends well,” I murmur.
Jester cups his hand to his ear. “What’s that, James?”
I sigh. “I left a happy woman, so can we drop it?”
“Fuck yeah, you did,” Wraith brags.
Jester snickers. “From what I saw, you had to limp your cute ass out of Sanctum. Want me to get you an ice pack?”
Mortified, I ignore their laughter, and as much as I’m embarrassed right down to my soul, it feels terrific. Natural. Normal. Like I’m part of something fun. A happy—and not entirely unhealthy—semi-relationship with a man who cares about me. Does Wraith love me? Doubtful. And that’s fine. I don’t expect instant love after, well, everything we’ve been through. What we do have is enough for now.
Once Gomorrah is nothing but a bad memory, Wraith and I will have all the time in the world to explore whatever is happening between us because, for the first time in my life, I won’t be racing to survive. I’ll finally have the chance to enjoy the simple pleasure of living.
* * *
“So, this is where you used to hide yourself?”
“Every day.” I stroll the aisle, running my fingers along the spines and inhaling the scent of old books.
Wraith follows me as I introduce him to a building On Main Street I doubt he ever visited. The Mayhem Public Library was my haven, where I used to come on wintry days rather than go home, and as I walk among the books, I relish the familiar musty smell and the cozy feeling of being nestled among my childhood sanctuary.
“I would sit right there.” I point to an empty table near a window. “Mrs. Decker would feed me cookies and milk, even as I got older. It was always the same thing. Three cookies and a glass of milk waiting for me every time I came. This was my happy place.”
