Chase
It all fell down. Collapsed against me — my universe, my empire, my purpose — and all it had taken was one innocent woman to pick up the dark shards of my life and shove them back into my chest again. All it had taken was her. But she didn’t know she was too late. She was just too damn late.
I wanted to run after her, to scream at her, to raze the entire house until it burned to the ground.
But I didn’t do any of those things.
Instead, I stood there.
And stared at her door.
Then pressed my fingers to my mouth, still tasting her there, wanting more and knowing it was the most selfish thing I would ever do — try to take her with me, the way Mil had done to me.
I leaned my forehead against the wall as rage poured through me. I didn’t want to feel this way, I didn’t want to leave her this upset. The commission was set for tomorrow, and the last thing I wanted to do was leave this earth knowing that the final words I’d said to her were that she wasn’t important.
Or that she didn’t matter, when she’d been my only respite, the only good in my life these past few weeks.
The saving grace I knew I needed, but refused to want.
With wooden steps, I made my way to her door and raised my hand to knock just as it jerked open. Tears stained her face.
I’d done that.
It was becoming a nasty habit, making her cry, when all I yearned to do was hold her close and tell her it would all be okay.
But it would be a lie.
And I was done with that life.
Done lying through my smiles and easy jokes, done making this life look like it was all sunshine and rainbows when it was darkness and desperation.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered hoarsely. “I didn’t—”
She pressed a hand over my mouth. That would normally have pissed me off; if it had been anyone else I would have lost my shit and broken a wrist.
But this was mine.
She was mine.
So I let her.
“One more night, and I don’t know what happens.” She gulped. “So, I was thinking if I had one more night…” More tears filled her eyes. “…what would I do?”
I waited and tried not to get too hopeful that she was going to spend it with me instead of slamming the door in my face again.
“And…” She licked her lips. “…I want to spend it with you.”
Her hand fell.
I narrowed my eyes. “You sure about that?”
She nodded and then reached for my hands.
I hadn’t realized they were shaking until she held them in hers and looked down with a confused expression.
“I’m angry,” I admitted. “So fucking angry.”
“That makes two of us,” she whispered. “You’re angry at Mil, and I’m angry at you.”
She’d said her name.
I was too stunned to do anything.
Hearing her name from Luc’s lips…
Felt so dirty.
Wrong.
I closed my eyes, squeezed them tight, and tried to get my emotions under control, and then Luc did the strangest thing; she brought my hands to her mouth.
I opened my eyes. “What are you doing?”
“How many?”
“How many what?”
She didn’t answer; instead, she hauled me to my bedroom and then into the connecting bathroom and turned on the shower.
Without words, she slowly undressed. My breath hitched when her bra fell to the floor, and then she started working on my jeans — button undone, zipper pulled down. She jerked them to my feet and then tugged my shirt over my head and led me into the shower.
I still had no clue what she was doing until she pushed me under the hot spray and said, “How many people? How much blood on your hands?”
My stomach clenched. “Too many to count, Luc. Enough to give you nightmares.”
She nodded and then slowly lathered up the soap and began to wash me. “You know about the whole washing of feet thing, right? I’m assuming you’re Catholic.”
I nodded dumbly.
“So…” She ran the soap down my stomach. “…I figure since you have so much blood, it would be best to just wash your entire body.”
I gripped her wrists. “I don’t understand.”
She refused to look at me and just kept washing. “It’s like a second baptism, okay? The forgiveness of sins.” Her voice caught. “Holy water washing away the sins of the damned.”
Realization dawned as I stared down at her shaking hands.
“If I lose you—” Her eyes flashed up to mine. “—I want to know where your soul’s going, and I refuse—” Her voice cracked. “—refuse to think I didn’t do everything in my power to make sure that you were accepted into heaven, even though you deserve nothing but hell.”
I always believed that Mil was the one who’d broken me, unmanned me, un-fucking-made me.
But in that moment, with this innocent girl and her shaking hands, trying to wash blood from my body, knowing that I would just spill more — that was more than I could take; it was more than I could handle.
The damn burst so hard, so fast, that I fell to the ground and shoved her away, only to have her bring her hands to my face and keep washing as my tears mixed with the water running down my cheeks.
Angry tears.
Bitter tears.
Tears that tasted like revenge when they touched my lips and burned like hell when they hit my skin.
And then she was kissing them away, kissing me, with such hopeful deep kisses that for the first time since before Mil died…
I felt loved.
I felt coveted.
I felt saved.
I gripped the sides of her face with my hands and deepened the kiss then rained kisses down her cheeks before pulling her onto my lap and thrusting into her, showing her the only way I knew how, that this — this between us — was the only good thing in my life.
The only good thing.
She cried out my name as I began to move.
“Chase, that’s not what—”
“Shh…” I grit my teeth. It was not how this started, but it was how I was going to end it, inside her, loving her, claiming her. “…let me love you the way you love me.”
Her eyes flashed open; they were searching, and then they were resting on my mouth as a small grin spread across her face.
I captured her lips again, felt her smile against my mouth as I pumped harder inside her, needing to be as close as possible, needing to feel the way her body clenched around me as if it needed me for survival. She started the rhythm with me as I pulled my mouth away. My head fell back against the tile as she moved. I gripped her hips holding her there. It would be over too fast, — the slick wetness of her body, the warmth of the water trickling between our bodies.
I didn’t want any moment to end with her.
This one especially.
But all good things… they come to an end, don’t they?
I surged forward, filling her fast and hard while she wrapped an arm around my neck to hold on.
“So deep.” She bit down on my neck.
“So perfect,” I rasped and sent her over the edge in the only way I knew how, by finally giving her another piece of myself while guiltily still holding the final chess token.
Because I knew, if I gave her all, and if she took it…
When I died…
It would destroy her.
And I refused to repeat history.
“Let her go,” she whispered across my neck.
My voice said, “Okay.”
But my heart asked, “How?”