"It used to," I admitted, surprised by my own honesty. The memory of that first perfect jump, the exhilaration of defying everything that had ever held me down, rode into my brain unbidden. That was it for me. The highest of highs. To land that jump, after a million crashes. There was no feeling in the world like it.
Lucy's eyes found mine again, curious and penetrating. "And now?" she pressed.
"Now..." I searched for the right words. "It feels like the only time I'm really alive."
Understanding flickered across her face, and she nodded slowly. "I get that."
She turned the magazine around again, her finger tracing the outline of my suspended body. The gesture felt strangely intimate, as though she were touching me instead of my image.
"Is this what you always wanted to do? Be a stunt rider, I mean?” She lowered the magazine, draping it across her lap.
I allowed myself to relax, sinking deeper into the cushion behind me. Lucy moved with me, staying as close as possible.
"When I was a kid, all I wanted to do was grow up and get out of the system." The admission came easier than expected. "Foster care doesn’t exactly foster big dreams.” I meant it as a joke, but the look Lucy gave me sobered me before I could even smile.
I cleared my throat. “When I met the guys, I wanted to protect them. They were just like me. Same age, same anger at the world, similar shitty backgrounds. For whatever reason, I was the big brother from the start.” Now, I did smile. “Fallon would give me hell for saying that. Our birthdays are only a few days apart.”
“I don’t even know your age,” Lucy said in an odd tone. “Why didn’t I realize that before now?”
“Maybe because we acted like dicks to you from the start. Highly doubt you wanted to know much of anything about us.” A pang of guilt stung my chest. I was going to be seventy fucking years old, still lamenting how we’d treated Lucy at the start.
“You’d be surprised,” she sighed out. “Even wearing ratty clothes cleaning your toilets, I wanted to know everything.”
I stiffened against her, hating the idea that she’d still been hopeful even scrubbing up our piss and shit.
“We’re all thirty-three,” I pushed out quickly, trying to prevent myself from sinking into self-hate. “The minute me and the guys were emancipated, we started scheming. What were five adrenaline junkies supposed to do with their lives? We weren’t exactly cut out for desk jobs.”
Lucy listened, her head tilted slightly, giving me her complete attention. I'd forgotten what that felt like—to be truly seen up close and personal, not observed from a distance by people who’d forget me the minute someone did a bigger, scarier stunt.
"I think we all ended up performing because it felt like escaping our bullshit childhoods. The adrenaline rush, the crowd's roar, the money. Especially the money. Performing gave us the control we'd never had before. It also let us do what we loved. Riding, playing with fire, throwing blades."
"Must have been terrifying at first," Lucy murmured, her fingers going back to the photograph. I covered her hand withmy much larger one. In response, she rotated her hand, so her palm faced up. I curled my fingers, lacing them with hers. Just holding her hand was wonderful. I could sit here for an eternity touching Lucy in this small way.
“It was never terrifying,” I murmured. “I don’t think I even knew what terror felt like, not until I saw that tent crash down on you.”
A blush crept across her cheeks, and I fought the urge to kiss every inch of pale skin now gone pink.
"Is this what you want to do forever?" she asked after a moment, her gaze steady on mine.
"I don't know.” The answer spilled out of me automatically. It made me feel unmoored but not anxious. “For the first time in my life, I’ve got a reason to be careful.”
Lucy sat up, and the absence of her weight against my body felt like losing a limb. She turned, bringing her legs up on the sofa and crossing them. Her eyes searched mine for a moment, then her expression softened, like she’d found whatever she was looking for. “I don’t want you to change who you are for me. I’d never ask that.”
“If I change, Lucy, it’s not just for you. It’s for myself. It’s for the pack. It’s so we can have a future. Now that I’ve found you, I don’t want to keep chasing death.”
She smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Death’s been chasing me my whole life. The idea of chasing it is kind of exciting.”
I’m going to have to send Eros an apology letter, I thought to myself, recognizing the look on her face. I knew it all too well. I saw it in the mirror before every performance.They weren’t blowing smoke when they claimed their scent matching was second to none. Lucy is DemonX material through and through.
55
ASHER
{Days later}
Despite the heavy blanket draped over her lower body, Lucy shivered. Her translucent skin seemed to thin further as goosebumps sprouted across her arms. Moving over to the thermostat, I raised the temp a few degrees. Nevada spring wasn’t too far off, but desert nights stole warmth like a kleptomaniac.
When I moved back into her sightlines, she gave me a sleepy smile. The way she looked right now—thin camisole, one strap slipping down her shoulder, legs curled up under the throw, head tilted to one side, starlight hair splayed across the dark cushion behind her—was almost painfully lovely.
