Travis had given up. Let his sorrow and broken heart win. As far as I knew, no one had heard from or seen Emma. I couldn’t figure out if that was good or very, very bad. I imagined all too well her scheming a bloodthirsty plan to kill us slowly and painfully.
It was hard on Chase seeing his cousin so torn up and not himself. Therefore, it hurt me. I literally now felt Chase’s pain, his sorrow, the ragged turbulence of his emotions. It wasn’t always so clear as I was still learning how to control our connection to each other, but the lovely tattoo at my hip was a daily reminder that I was Chase’s for life.
And he was mine.
Right now, when my guard was down, Chase’s exhaustion and hopelessness came through loud and clear. I scooted over in my bed, opening my arms. He didn’t hesitate as he gathered me close, inhaling the scent of my fresh shampoo. When we were together, it seemed to dull the weight on his heart. I liked to think that I physically took a piece of the burden from him.
I ran my hands over his back, trying to offer him comfort and support. “So how is he?” I whispered, though I didn’t really need to ask. It was there, written in every strained part of his body. Travis was not good. I don’t think not good even came near describing how Travis was dealing with the loss of Emma.
Chase wasn’t a sharing-circle kind of guy. In his mind, if we didn’t talk about this part of his world, he was keeping my soul from being stained. Newsflash. I’d been marked for Hell some time ago, but I knew Chase wasn’t willing to accept that.
He was determined in that pig head of his to find a way to purify my darkened soul. I say good luck. Some things just are.
Chase shrugged, twiddling our fingers. I absolutely hated the shadow of pain that flashed in his eyes. It made me immediately regret asking. “As well as can be expected after having your heart ripped out a second time.”
I could see the gears winding in Chase’s mind, putting himself in Travis’s shoes. The silver eyes I loved so much filled with a heart-jerking pain.
“Maybe if I talk to him—”
He cut me off, lips forming a thin line. “I am not discussing this again. Topic closed.”
I let out a long puff of air. “Whatever asswad.”
“Oh, now I’m an ass. A few hours ago you thought I hung the moon.”
I snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
He laced his hands behind his head, staring at my white popcorn ceiling. “You know this isn’t about me. I am trying to keep you safe. Why must you always make it so difficult?”
“Why must you be so impossible?” I countered. He knew that the safe-card was becoming old. I wanted the same for him. The difference was, he constantly put himself in the line of fire and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it. I was just expected to be the good, dutiful little girlfriend and wait for him to come home safe and sound after gallivanting all night after his emotionally broken cousin.
Not in this lifetime, bucko.
I wanted to get my hands dirty too—figuratively speaking of course. Travis was my friend, and I really missed him.
I expected an equally smartass comment in reply, so I was quite surprised when I suddenly found myself enveloped into his arms with my face buried against his neck. He smelled like a mix of Heaven and Hell rolled into an impressive sexy package. It was the best scent in the world.
“Are you sniffing me?” he asked.
I smiled into his neck. “I can’t help myself.”
“That’s what they all say.”
I socked him in the gut. He scowled down at me, and I gave him my Sweet-N-Low smile. “I couldn’t help myself.”
His brows wiggled. “I just bet.”
The goal had been to get his mind off all the crap that had gone down. When he was with me, I wanted to distract him from the drama and pain he was dealing with at home. I wanted to erase the lingering guilt and make him smile. Or at the very least, bring out the smartass in him. It was part of his charm. Without it, he wasn’t whole, and who would have thought I would miss the jerky part of him so much?
But I did.
Immensely.
He kept me on my toes.
And I loved kissing that dirty mouth of his. Totally warped, I know, but, hey, it was kind of our thing.
He fell asleep before I did, which was rare, but I guess his body needed it. I pushed aside a stray piece of dark hair and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He didn’t stir. Laying my head on his chest, I closed my droopy eyes and listened to the steady beat of his heart. It was like listening to white noise.
***
Monday mornings were the epitome of suckiness.
It didn’t matter if the sun was shining or if the sky opened up and poured buckets; I wasn’t a morning person. Chase awoke as if he was ready to run a marathon. I hated him. Muttering a string of colorful words at my alarm, I whacked it with my fist. The only thing that accomplished was I now had a throbbing hand to go along with my crabbiness.
Peachy keen.
Some days I wished my mind had a delete button. Today was one of those days.