Chapter Fifteen

Vera

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It was funny how we spent the rest of the day just doing 'normal' things. We didn't really talk, no long emotional conversations or discussion of what steps needed to take place to get me the answers I longed for.

As my body still buzzed from the way he took me outside, the feral heat between us tingled over my skin as we stacked wood and made a fresh feeder pile inside the cabin to keep the fire blazing.

He showed me the solar panels he had set back in a clearing that he used to heat his water and power the small deep freezer he had. I soaked it all in, I let him teach me about how to clean the black glass, about what berries were okay to eat and which ones to steer clear of.

His face would brighten when I asked a question, his eyes burst with excitement when I pointed out a set of fresh tracks as we walked through the trees.

And for some crazy reason that made me happy. It felt good to know that I could shine a light into his life, to bring joy when all he was able to see before was death.

We were connected on some strange level of mirrored lives. He brought me life, I brought him happiness, and both of us were trying to escape the darkness.

For dinner Pax scavenged his emergency cabinet, rummaging up some white rice and a can of beef stew.

The small pile of dishes in the sink didn't sit there long, I washed and dried them, putting them back in their respective places. For a lone man, wild hunter, and self-proclaimed monster. . . His home was rather organized.

It made me rethink the stone around the fireplace and how well all the pieces fit together. Pax might have been wild on the outside, but inside he was an assembly line of framework.

He liked order, he liked everything to be as close to perfection as possible. All his glasses were arranged by size and shape, he never left his bed unmade or disheveled. The blankets were tucked in securely, his pillows neatly resting against the headboard.

The living room was spotless, not a hint of dust or ash, no streaks on the glass windows or footprints across the floor.

The military must have drove that home, burning it into his routines and daily life.

He didn't want me to do any cleaning, but I insisted, forcing him to go shower and to let me take care of it. It was the least I could do after all he had done for me.

I wasn't repaying him because he had told me I had to, I was doing it because I wanted to. Because no good goes without a thank you.

Pax had helped my body to heal, he had kept me whole in a way I couldn't possibly explain. And I had never given him the proper thank you he deserved for that.

The longer I was around him, the more connected I felt to him, and to what he was, to how he lived. I could see the beauty in his trees, in the silence and simplicity of the world he lived in. I was starting to understand him.

But can you stay here forever?

Can you leave your home and family just to keep these feelings alive?

Because that's what it was. . . It was a feeling.

My heart skipped like a stone across water when he was near me, my stomach would clench, my thighs would shake and tremble. It was becoming hard for me to focus on anything else but him.

I wasn't sure how long it would be before I forgot all about my past and the hurt I had been left with. I found myself repeating what I wanted inside my head, making sure it was still there and not drifting off into the vast expanse of my memories, cuddling up with the time I lost in the woods.

Convincing him to take me into town was still there. I didn't plan on giving up, there was no fucking way, but in the same breath that demand was fading as my mind allowed it to be dulled.

And for some reason when I even said the word 'town' he cringed. Pax immediately reacted to the idea of heading back into the population, back into the real world and away from his humble cocoon. His past was haunting him, his own fear of himself created a wall. He hated other people because of his own impulses.

He needs to learn to let go. I wish he would just let go.

I didn't want to piss him off by repeatedly asking over and over. I knew if I kept pressing him he would tear up my mission and toss it out the window, he'd shut down and I'd have to do it all on my own.

You can't do this on your own.

I needed his help, and in order to get it, I had to give him time to let the idea sink in and make its way through his maze of thoughts.

Leaning against the counter, I watched him poke the fire, shuffling around the red coals. His muscles rolled under the skin, struggling against the fabric of his shirt, trying to tear it apart. The thick muscles of his back dipped and curved, pulsing and hardening as he leaned in.

My sex throbbed just watching him, all his movements, the way his body hardened and burst beneath the surface, it made me warm. I had the urge to stroke his back, to feel his chest and run my fingertips over his corded abs.

I was addicted.

“Can I ask you something?” Tucking an arm into my ribs, I rubbed my neck, trying to settle the tremble in my belly.

“Didn't we have this conversation?” Glancing back at me, his eyes smiled as they thinned.

Crossing the room, I sat behind him on the couch and cupped my hands between my legs. “How do you do this? How do you live all by yourself and not go crazy?”

I wanted to press him, maybe get him to focus on the family I still had and loved. If he could feel my sadness, there was a chance he'd take me to call them sooner, not later, not on his next scheduled trip into town.

“I'm not by myself. . .” Tossing on a fresh log, he wiped his hands on his thighs. “I have you.”

“I don't mean right now, I mean before.”

Clearing his throat, he let his eyes steady on the new flames as they burst and whipped around. “The choice was easy. I didn't have anyone out there waiting for me, no friends or family, they were long gone. I always thought that what I needed was here, it was in this place, in these walls. It was safety for myself and everyone else. But I was wrong, you're wrong.” His eyes fluttered up to mine, then darted away back to the fire. “I was crazy, I was insane long before I got here.”

Placing my hand on his shoulder, I said, “That's not true. Insane people don't work stone like that right there. . .” Pointing at the fireplace, I scooted closer. “Insane people don't build massive buildings and care for someone they don't know.”

His head slowly turned my way, lips curving down into a heavy frown. “Maybe they do, maybe it's the insanity that created all this.” His eyes peered into mine, holding my gaze strong. “But I'm not crazy anymore, I'm not the same person I was. And that's not from living here, it's from you.”

I felt my lips part as a lump lodged itself in the back of my throat. I wanted to kiss him, to feel his hands run through my hair and slide down my back. “I didn't do anything to help you, all I did was steal from you.”

Tipping his head back, he laughed. “You can't steal it when I gave it to you.”

“I haven't thanked you for what you did, for taking me in and caring for me.” Dipping my head into my chest, I let my hand slip off his shoulder and into my lap. “You've done so much and all I've done is take.”

Gripping my chin in his hand, Pax lifted my face back up. “I spent years taking, Angel, it was my turn to give.” His thumb stroked my bottom lip, eyes lighting up in red and orange bursts. “Whatever you think you owe me, you don't. I still have promises to fill, I still owe you more than I could ever say. I should be thanking you.”