I know exactly what he means, except I never tried. I just became that. A ghost to my family, and the friends I used to have. My heart speeds up, but not because I’m about to be thrown right into a panic attack again. It just beats harder, sadder, swelling in a chest too small to contain it.
“I thought that trying to make myself invisible actually worked. It never occurred to my stupid self that I wasn’t making it alone in there. Raiden was in there for part of the time I was. He went in on a drug charge, but the whole thing was a setup. I- asked Scythe about it this morning, when I called to ask if it was okay to come by. I asked him if he had Raiden watch out for me, or someone else, and he said of course he did. He said it like I was the dumbest of the dumbasses, while trying not to insult me.”
My mouth drops open.
“I was trying to force him not to worry about me by not letting him see me in there, but the whole time, he saw me. He knew me. He waited so damn patiently for me to get out and start my life over.”
Scythe strikes me as such a quiet man, but I know that with people who speak little, the still waters often run deep.
“He loves you.” This is what Maverick needs to hear. He needs that validation. I know, because our souls are connected mine thrums just saying that word. “Happiness is still possible, Maverick. Even if it’s fleeting. Redemption, forgiveness, pushing forward, living a good life.”
He glances behind him at a noise in the hall, but whoever is walking our direction must have changed course because no one appears. “I know you think that I’m open, that I don’t have a mask I put on, but that’s just for you. That’s for Scythe. I’m not like this with other people,” he says frankly. “I don’t even know how the fuck to reallybeat all anymore. I was… agitated about that last night. Haunted, I guess. I want to be better than this, more, something, moresomeone.”
Tension radiates out from him, thickening the air, wrapping around me like a hand tight to my throat, but for once, that doesn’t spike my anxiety. Not if it’s his hand. I wish I could replace that ache in him and give him back some lightness, some hope, some of the same relief I’ve felt ever since leaving the rage room.
I shouldn’t, not yet. I’ve accomplished nothing other than putting words out there and breaking some shit. I haven’t seen Wizard or Dravin yet. I haven’t gone over this with them. They haven’t found the guy and he hasn’t been punished, but I still feel… I don’t know. Less of the heavy weight, less panic, less pain.
“I don’t feel like this with other people.” Maverick’s intimate tone brings me back. “Whatever’s between us, that rope that we’ve braided, strand by strand, I don’t have that with anyone else. I never did. You want to know what I’m afraid of? Staying here. Stuck. Exactly as I am. Never being quite what you need. I want to deserve you, even if you say it’s not about deserving.” He shakes his head to cut me off from interrupting him to offer that exact assurance. “I’m a broken mess on the inside. Smashed up. I want to be a good man, one who can stand at your side, grow with you, offer you all the things you want out of life as you wrestle it back and take it. I’m afraid that even if Itry for my entire life, I’ll never be the kind of man I promised my mother I’d be. I’ll never be as kind, as bright, or as radiant as you are. You’re the light and I’m just eating it up, taking it, giving so little back to you.”
I know what I said about good things being able to play out in the dark, but it’s going to take more than just words to get him to believe that.
“Fuck,” he curses gutturally, from the bottom of that smashed up place he described. A single tear trickles down his cheek. I lean into him and taste it, kissing away the moisture right up to the corner of his eye.
“It’s been a long time since I was able to properly care about anyone, or allow myself to be cared for,” he rasps, demons and memories spilling heavy into his voice. “What if I’m not any good at it? Oranythinghumanany longer? What if I won’t ever have that normal future that you crave?”
“What if normal isn’t what I crave? I’d like to heal.” I press my heels into the backs of his legs, driving him into me until there’s no space left between us. When his eyes meet mine, they’re anything but cold. He burns with that same heat I feel, that same emptiness, the longing for someone else that takes over every other sensation. “Healing doesn’t mean that I have to be like anyone else, or that you should either.”
He traps my hand in his and guides it between us. He leans in, trapping our hands together. The warmth of the heating vent blows down directly on us, the sweet, homey smell of chocolate chip cookies hangs in the air, the low hum of conversation and footsteps and life being lived are still buzzing in the background. All that life being lived in this building, andMaverick put me right in the center of it. He gave me that heartbeat and now he’s giving me his.
He goes quiet, and in that silence, awareness steals in. How my legs are spread around his lean waist. He’s so close, his muscled torso blocking my view of anything but him. He’s my whole vision right now, my entire world. If I just spread my legs a little further and scoot a little bit further forward, I’d be able to take him exactly where I’ve been aching to have him. He’d be pressed up against me, throbbing, branding me, owning my body in a way that it’s never been owned before.
It would be more than sex. It would be something transcendent, my soul placed in his hands, entrusted to him, the start of something so wondrous and sacred that I can barely even comprehend it.
For just a moment, it’s just us. Not only in here, but in the entire world. A world that was devoid of joy while I waited for him to be in without even knowing his name.
I tilt my face up and find his only an inch away. His breath becomes my breath. I want him to brand me with his lips. To kiss me, to own me, to shape me, mold me, love me with his strong hands, and place himself into mine for safekeeping in return.
His lips graze mine, a whisper, a promise, temptation lighting me up from the inside out.
Someone clears their throat from the doorway.
Maverick whips around. He’s already blocking me, but he hunches forward, his desire to shield me, instinctual.
“Shit,” a light, feminine voice says. “I didn’t know there was anyone in here. I just wanted a cookie. I wasn’t watching uh- I swear. I- I’m interrupting. I’m definitely going now.”
I peek over Maverick’s shoulder and find a young, gorgeous, blonde woman standing awkwardly, hands clutched in front of a ripped up denim jacket with colorful patches placed all over it. Her jeans are heavily distressed too. Heavy eye makeup, black lipstick, canvas high tops, a septum piercing, and a bunch of jewelry featuring safety pins complete the punk look.
She points to the doorway behind her. “This is me leaving. Just… I’m going to get that cookie and then I’m gone.” She casts a longing look at the table. “I promise. Yeah. Okay.” She races across the kitchen, snatches up a handful of cookies, and heads for the door.
“Wait!” She freezes at the word. I grasp Maverick’s shoulder and lean forward, tucking my chin against him so that she can at least see most of my face. “You don’t have to leave. We were just going to see Wizard and Dravin anyway.”
That earns me a slow blink. “The IT guys?”
“Yes. I- they’re- I’d like to ask them if they could find someone for me, from my past.”
Her interest shifts, and so does the atmosphere in the room. The pressure changes. Her excitement is obvious. “Wait. They can do that?”
I close my eyes for a heartbeat. “I hope so.”
