He smirks, his eyes starting to move off the bruises and back on my body.
“Want to come shower with me and Tyson? I need to feel like myself again,” I say, manoeuvring one of my legs out from under me to rest on the cushion ensuring he knows what I’m talking about.
The scent of my anxiety is strong, but so is my determination.
“Might mix things up this time, killer,” he says, drawing me back closer to his lips, with the strength of his hands around my throat. Replacing memories.
“What do you mean?” I shiver because while we’re talking about bad times, he’s also got that same twinkle in his eye as I know I do.
“You and me make a deal,” he winks without moving an inch, but his fingers tighten some more.
“What are the terms?” Because I’m not stupid. King is a manipulative bastard on a good day, and we haven’t had a good day for a while.
“See, I was thinking sometimes Maverick just fucks you so pretty, I want to join in and break my rules of not sharing you.”
“No!?!… Really?” I ask, so on board with what he’s suggesting.
“Sure. Given the right motivation I’m sure you and me will both be happy.”
I stop fantasising about us all together to glare at him. “Motivation?”
He chuckles before his laughter disappears. “I want the names of the women who took you.”
I laugh before leaning in to kiss his scowl. “As if I wasn’t going to tell you: Mary and Margaret.”
He pulls back, shocked. “You sure?”
“Yes. I scared the shit out of them.”
He smirks. “That’s my girl.”
“King, two names, means two times. No ifs, and, or buts, buddy. So, I want you in the shower with me and Tyson right this second, and then I want everyone in your bed at your house.”
King reclines, looking perplexed or troubled, but I can see past the act. He’s already agreed, but it’s still nice to see him pretend to think about it. Except of course his phone rings, Joker’s name on the display. He leans in quickly to kiss the argument off my lips. “Guess you got another favour coming your way. Sorry, killer, I gotta take this. Leave the door open though so I can listen to you coming.”
I climb off his lap, but he nabs my retreating form to pull me back to him to bite my ass hard enough to make me yip, right at the same time he picks up. And as much as I long for the thought of having Tyson and King together, it’s also not really the time for it to happen.
All the lights are on in the bathroom, and I know Tyson would have done that very intentionally. His eyes are closed, the water cascading over his face but the instant I set foot in the bathroom he pushes the shower door open.
“You okay?” he asks, quietly giving me the room and space to come to him. Which I do. I curl up under his arm before he turns me to his chest, wrapping his arms around my back to hold me close.
“I’m getting there. I need your help though.”
The look I get back ensures I know he’d do anything to help both now and in the future, but that is Tyson to a tee.
“I need to know my body is mine. It might not be the right thing to do, it might be way too soon and I might freak out but…”
“No one can tell another person how to heal. Everyone probably has a story to tell or a titbit they see as relevant but only you know what is right for you. Of course I’ll do anything to help you.”
“You don’t think it’s wrong?”
“I’ll fucking crucify anyone who makes you believe anything you do is wrong. Tell me what to do.”
“I might lock up.”
“And I might too, but we can try together. Because that bite on your throat means you’re not on your own ever again. When you’re down I’ll do everything in my power to lift you back up.”
Tyson lets me go for a second before fiddling with the shower nozzle, dropping it down lower. Then he holds my hand again and starts to sit down on the floor of the shower, pulling me with him.
