“Better not get—fucking crumbs in my hair,” I grumbled through the jagged noises pouring through the crack in my chest.
Her fingernails scraped over my head as if to say,what fucking hair?
“I’m growing it,” I rasped.
I pictured Lynn rolling her eyes, but kept my head ducked against her chest, letting her touch anchor me as I struggled to control my breathing. Another twisted laugh released from my chest when she crunched another cracker. She was eating though; that was good. And she wasn’t pushing me away. If anything, she clung to me, like I was her lifeline, too.
“I didn’t mean any of it,” I rasped when I regained control of my sobs. “The shit I said in the garden. I didn’t want you to leave me alone, I was just fucked in the head. So fucked.”
Her fingers stilled on my head. I interpreted it as a question.
“I felt… dirty. Infected. And I didn’t want to infect you, too.”
Lynn caught my chin and lifted my head until our eyes met. She shook her head slowly, emphatically. Looked pissed as hell at me for even suggesting it.
I had to close my eyes to say, “The raid that day. It was—the same fucker who whored me out years ago. I smelled him there. I can still fucking smell him, can’t get rid of it. It messed me up, and I wasn’t myself. Then you said we were just friends, and ithurt.”
Look at me, talking about my emotions and being all healthy and shit.
I didn’t open my eyes, didn’t dare to, as I said, “It’s been more than that to me formonths.We’re not just friends, Lynn, you’re so much fucking more. The thought of you being done with me makes me want to claw my own eyes out—”
Of all the reactions, Lynn putting her hand around my throat was a shock. I blinked. Locked eyes with her when she demanded it. A furrow tugged my brows together at the heated glare she fixed on me.
“I have no idea what you’re trying to tell me,” I admitted.
She tightened her grip until I wheezed. Ah. “I know,” I croaked. “We’re not done. Not ever.”
Her grip loosened, but she didn’t release my throat. Instead, she used my pliancy to position me where she wanted me and slowly, tentatively, kissed me. It was a simple brush of lips, but after the hell she’d just been put through, it made me want to cry.
“I will gut every last person who hurt you,” I breathed. “I will end anyone who dared to lay their hands on you.”
She tugged on my shirt none too gently, and this time I knew exactly what she wanted.
“Don’t get fucking crumbs on me,” I muttered, pulling my shirt over my head and throwing it across the room.
She snorted and settled against me, throwing her leg over mine. A long breath feathered over my skin when her head rested on my chest, her cheek rubbing against my skin.
I should have realised what it meant when she reached out. “God fucking dammit,” I grumbled when she crunched another cracker, little crumbs speckling my chest. “Why do I even love you?” I groaned.
I meant to saylike,but fuck it, it was out there now. Lynn froze. I could have kicked myself for the worst goddamn timing, but she surprised the shit out of me when her tongue slicked a path over my chest, hoovering up the cracker crumbs.
“Be honest,” I said. “Do you love me or your Lunchables more?”
She tapped my chest once, twice.
“Option two? Fucking rude.” I fanned my fingers through her hair, working through tangles that her shower hadn’t undone. Her laugh warmed my chest, and so did the deep exhale she let out as I kept running my fingers through her hair, the movement therapeutic for both of us it seemed.
In minutes, her breathing evened out and her full weight draped over me as she fell asleep. I could have taken one of Giant’s pills and followed her into sleep, god knew my bodyneeded it. Instead, I stayed awake and kept watch, making sure nothing else got anywhere close to Lynn except me.
28
Lynn
What a thoughtful gift Cobra had given me. The bracelet definitely did not contain a tracker despite being heavy as shit on my wrist. I’m sure that was just coincidence. Like the new photo frames dotted around his room definitely didnothave hidden cameras watching me at all times. I didn’t start shit about their presence for two reasons. I could see how jumpy and paranoid Cobra was, and he hated being away from me as much as I hated him being out of my sight. Also, I couldn’t fucking talk. Every time I opened my mouth, my chest closed up, dread pressed in on me, and my words got stuck in the back of my throat.
It had been four days of this and I was getting sick of it. Frustration welled behind my breastbone and I took my anger out on my jeans, widening a few of the rips as I dragged them over my ass and fastened them with angry motions. I was sick of this room, and this silence, and I wanted to see my friendseven if the thought made me want to throw up. I could do it. If ChaCha was okay enough to hammer down the door and demand I get my ass out of the room yesterday, I couldactuallyget my ass out of the room today. I could face them, even if—
ChaCha thrashing, trying to unseat the alpha trapping her on the dirty mattress, her desperate cry filling the basement as she failed.
