And tonight, curled up on the couch with Sean warm and safe in my arms, that part of me rattled the bars. Because what if peace wasn’t enough to keep him safe?
What if being good, being better, wasn’t enough?
What if it took becoming that monster again, just for a moment, to make sure Sean never had to look over his shoulder?
I tightened my arms around him and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
No. Not unless I had to. Not unless there was no other way.
Because if I crossed that line again... I wasn’t sure I could come back. And losing Sean? Losing this life I was building?
That would ruin me more than any war ever could.
Sean stirred softly beside me, his hand slipping under my shirt, warm against my ribs.
“You’re tense,” he whispered.
“Just thinking,” I said.
He tilted his head to look at me. “About Orin?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“I trust you, Beau.”
His voice was quiet. Steady.
I swallowed hard and cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I just want you safe. That’s all.”
“I am,” he said, wrapping his arms around me tighter. “I feel safest right here.”
And just like that, the beast inside me quieted.
Chapter 14
Orin
Orin steppedoff the bus with a sneer on his face. Sugarpaw Springs. Even the name made him roll his eyes.
The air here was clean in that fake, over-sanitized way small towns tended to be. Like everyone tried too hard to pretend everything was perfect.
He glanced around the dusty little bus station. A cracked vending machine hummed beside a rusted bench, and an old bulletin board boasted hand-drawn flyers for upcoming fairs and lost pets.
Orin adjusted the strap of his bag and walked down the main street, his boots crunching against the gravel. Quaint. Boring. Dull.
Exactly the kind of place someone like Sean would run to. Somewhere no one would think to look, until now. Orin’s motel wasn’t much better.
The outside looked like it hadn’t been painted since the 80s, and the inside wasn’t faring any better.
Faded wallpaper curled at the edges, and a single, flickering overhead light cast long shadows across the dingy floor.
He dropped his bag on the bed and wrinkled his nose at the musty scent of mildew and bleach, then tossed his coat onto a chair and moved to the mirror.
His reflection stared back at him: a non-descriptive brown-haired brown eyed man you wouldn’t take another look at on the street.
The kind of man who knew exactly how to disappear... and how to make others do the same. He didn’t plan on staying long. Just long enough to clean up the mess Sean left him.
All of this, this whole detour to Hicksville, this bullshit bus ride, this motel that smelled like something died under the bed, was Sean’s fault.
