He watched as I studied those marks, kissing the dozens of faded scars, reaching into the past to hold that boy’s hand and tell him everything would be okay. Diem was a man on trial, awaiting the verdict, certain his crime of simply existing would warrant the harshest punishment. Rejection. Disgust. Abandonment.
He knew no other outcome.
When I found my way back to his mouth, I kissed him until he released his desperate hold on that invisible ledge, trusting that I would not let him fall, that I would not reject him and walk away.
He moved his hands to my hips, drawing me down so we lay skin to skin.
I loved this big, beautiful, damaged man. Every scar. Every cut. Every invisible wound.
We were in this together. He was mine.
And when Diem made love to me, he claimed me in return.
12
Diem
Diem
I woke early and carefully escaped the cage of Tallus’s arms to slip out of bed. He didn’t stir—the man slept like a rock—but he was used to my early morning gym sessions. Echo, who had found her way to the foot of the bed sometime during the night, inquisitively cocked her head as though asking where I was going.
“Gym time. Go back to sleep.”
Chuffing, she buried her nose under a paw and closed her eyes. Echo didn’t join me at the gym. Considering it was the one place I could let off steam, I was usually fine on my own. Nothing cleared my head more than a half hour of punching a bag and another thirty minutes pumping iron. If I was especially agitated, I ended a workout with a run on the treadmill until every anxious thought had been extracted from my pores.
The goal was to start each day with the least amount of stress possible.
In the dark, I put on clean shorts, a fresh tee, and snagged a hoodie from the closet before heading out into the chilly morning.
An hour and a half later, ripe and sweaty from a workout, I drove to Tallus’s favorite café to grab him a treat. I earned more than my fair share of side-eyes and wrinkled noses from customers as I ordered him a latte and a cookie. I didn’t shower at the gym anymore. After years of relying on their facility, I was grateful to be able to clean up at home.
At that time in the morning, the café’s waiting area was full of men and women dressed for office jobs, students hustling off to school, and me, wafting BO and with a thick layer of sweat drying on my skin. At least that meant most people gave me a wide berth.
My phone buzzed with an incoming call as a man elbowed me out of the way to grab his order. I hated impatience. I hated crowds and people. I especially hated talking on the phone. It was twenty past seven for fuck’s sake. Who the hell was calling, and what was wrong with sending a text?
I dug the device from the kangaroo pouch on my hoodie and checked the screen as the barista called my name and placed a huge takeout cup and a wrapped cookie on the pickup counter. I waved my thanks as I frowned at the number displayed. It wasn’t one I recognized, and the ID came up as unknown.
“Probably spam,” a stranger beside me said.
I gave her a dirty look for being nosy and wedged between people to get to the counter. I needed to get the fuck out of here.
I grabbed Tallus’s treats and pushed through the bustle to get out the door. In the fresh-as-it-came city air, I inhaled relief and debated answering the call. In a second, it would roll to voicemail. Maybe it was Benaiah again. I hadn’t programmed his number, and I couldn’t remember how it displayed the other day. Although if Benaiah neededme, he should call the fucking office during business hours. I didn’t work on demand, and I wasn’t on call.
Against instinct, I tapped to accept.
“Yeah.” My barking tone made a woman with a baby on her hip startle as she exited the coffee shop. I turned my back, ignoring her.
“Hey, Diem.” The caller was far too cheerful. “How are you? I hope I didn’t wake you. I wanted to catch you before your day got too busy. Got a minute?”
“I…” The person sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place them. “Who is this?” I headed to the Jeep.
“Ah, shit.” The man chuckled. “Should have started with that, huh. My name doesn’t come up, does it? Forgot we had it set that way with the provider. My bad. It’s Heath.”
“Hea… Oh.” Why on earth was Tallus’s stepfather calling me? “Is… Is Tallus okay? Did something happen?”
A jolt of adrenaline surged through my veins as I balanced the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could grab my keys. No. That didn’t make sense. Tallus was asleep in bed when I left. How could he have—
“I assume he’s fine. You would know better than me.”
