One: To convey the message that Zion had never been in the second spot for me, that I valued him for much longer than the last few months, and that I had been blindsided by my own fears.
Two: To convince Kali into shaking off her anxiety that Zion and I would ever want more from her than what she gave of her own free will. Kidnapping her might have had an opposing effect, but she wouldn’t have left her life behind by choice.
So I’d had no other option but to take it away.
Drawing a line across my chest, I asked Zion, “Remember how you got this?” The large scar running across his pectorals, the slash too shallow to have punctured the muscle between his ribs, yet gnarly enough to have required stitches.
“Not really.” He shrugged. “The concussion muddled up the events in my head. I remember driving to Ilasall with Eli, but then there is a gap, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the infirmary with you passed out in the corner.” He frowned at his pancake. “You coerced me into eating that godsawful bowl of tasteless oatmeal.” This time, he folded his food in half, then again, making a triangle that he tore into. “This is much better.” His approval came out all garbled while chewing.
I put my half-eaten muffin away. “When Eli brought you in, I was already waiting in the infirmary. You were unconscious, dripping blood from everywhere, and not knowing if it was yours or not…” I trailed off. “There was yelling, and orders, and someone’s hands on me as the doc kicked me out. I was in so much shock that I just dropped on the floor before the closed door.”
Pushing past the memory, I continued. “I have no clue how much time passed. All I know is that voices echoed around me and glasses of water littered the floor. But I could not drink. I could notthink. Only stare at the door as the silence stretched and stretched andstretched.
“Until it snapped. The door opened, and I was ushered to your room, and the sight of you completely out, a large white bandage on your chest, your wrist in a sling, your broken ribs bruised, the concussion…” Terror from the past invaded me anew. “That was when I realized I can’t lose you,” I admitted. “Because I doubted I would have survived it.” I probably would have crumbled like the chocolate muffin had on my lap. Crumbs of baked batter dotted my jeans so worn the color had faded to dark gray.
The remains of Zion’s pancake swayed in the wind as he gaped at me. The fluffy goodness slipped from his grasp and plopped onto the blanket, the golden cake a stark contrast to the purple fabric.
A heavy sigh eased the weight off my shoulders. “I want to hold you in my arms for days, Zion. Without any breaks. Interruptions. I have wasted too much time, and I do not wish to lose a single day more. I have been dreaming about you for so long, denying myself the luxury of having you, hoping you would be safer without me beside you, so Ilasall couldn’t use you as a means to get to me.” I ran a hand through my hair, as if my strands harbored the disclosure and ruffling them would set it free. “I cannot watch you get hurt because of me.” My voice cracked. “Or by me. I struggle with keeping myself in line. So many deaths of our people, our friends, had occurred because of my decisions, and if I cause you pain again… I—” I cut off, the burn scars on Zion’s forearm searing me like acid. “I doubt I would be able to live with myself.”
There was no denying it—having him was much better than spending lonely years watching him from afar. Better than putting up a mask of indifference despite how his teasing, goading, provocations, they all made my day.
Accepting the risk of losing him due our closeness had been a tough pill to swallow, its contours like razors shredding my esophagus, but witnessing him lose the light in his eyes at the city’s claws without having told him how I felt would be worse.
Zion slowly rose to his knees. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Everything will be okay. We’ll win. We’ll be fine.” He cupped my neck, and his thumbs caressed the shape of my jaw, my stubble grazing his fingertips. “A different outcome is impossible when we have my strawberry helping us.”
I blinked.
“Awhat?” Kali voiced my question as I failed to speak, my thoughts wallowing in Zion’s affection instead of traveling to my vocal cords.
“He’s my strawberry.” Zion brushed a lock of my waves off my forehead. His touch lingered at the back of my head, his nailsdragging across my scalp, and my eyes fluttered closed from the tingles exploding in my limbs.
“You know, all rounded from his muscles, has a heap of strands on his head, like the berry’s leaves, and all those seeds? They’re actually separate tiny fruits called achenes that have a seed inside them. It’s like our compound. Everyone reports to Gedeon. Plus, he tastes like a strawberry.” He licked a line up my neck, the trail of moisture cooling in the early morning air, and then smacked his lips. “A little bit sweet, a little bit sour, and so godsdamn juicy.” He patted my thigh. “By the way, did you know that strawberries are technically fruit?”
I blinked at him again. Opened my mouth. Closed it. Stared at him. “I thought I was a kitten to you.”
The nickname he had come up with when we were teenagers and my parents had gotten me a cat. According to Zion, that also meantIhad become a kitten tohim. He had viewed me as his pet.
He beamed at me. “So you like it when I call you that.”
“No.” I pulled out the heaviest glare from my arsenal.
But it spurred him on. “Such a feisty little kitten,” he said, embracing Kali, who smothered her giggles in his shoulder. My disgruntled grunt served as fuel to him as he purred, “You’re so adorable.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose in exasperation. Or perhaps it was the closeness of the moment. Easy banter. One I did not care about winning.
“Go on, lick your paws, be nice and good, a perfect furry pet for me and our pretty birdie.” Struck by an idea, he lit up. “And for Shadow too. Yes, this is perfect. A pet for our pet.”
Groaning, I fell onto my back, the blanket doing nothing to cushion the impact against the concrete. Zion could truly twist me into a knot.
With Kali, retorts came to me easily. As if called out by her voice, her ferociousness, and refusal to admit what she craved. Her challenges were like a beacon to my need for order.
But with Zion, it was incomparably different. I struggled to find a response, to formulate sentences, to locate my runaway ability to speak in general. He would snatch the ground from underneath me, yet I would have no wish to get back on my feet. Not when I could roll over and discover him grinning at me.
His smile would disarm me. His laugh would warm me. And his unhinged remarks would envelop me in a soothing embrace, a bubble of tranquility, of relaxation so deep my brain would cease functioning. There was no point in continuing its job when all it wanted to do was bask in the presence of the man as untamed as nature invading the fringes of our compound.
29
GEDEON
