. . . He’s my fucking hero . . .”
“No,” Phebe whispered as she rocked me in her arms. “AK, no . . .” she said again and I knew she was crying too. She wiped my tears, kissed my skin as she held me close to her chest. “Zane?” she asked. “Where was Zane?”
“His Aunt Claire’s. She had taken him for the afternoon.” I blinked and looked into Phebe’s blue gaze. “If he had been there . . . he would have killed him too, Phebe. He would have. His own kid.”
“And where is he now?” She looked at the picture of his young face still in my hand.
“I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“Claire banned me from seeing him. She moved away. He . . . he didn’t even go to his own daddy’s funeral. Claire and Tom buried Tina separately, calling my brother a murderer. I buried Dev alone, only Vike and Flame beside me. He didn’t even get a military service.” I rolled onto my back and tried to breathe. “That kid was my whole fucking life, and I ain’t seen him in years.” I looked at the picture of us all on my graduation from the Marines and didn’t even recognize those people anymore. I didn’t recognize me. “He’d be fifteen now.” I ran my hand over Zane’s face. “And I don’t fucking know him. I never will.”
“AK.” Phebe laid her head on my shoulder. “I have no words to say to you. I do not know how to be of help.”
I felt her in my arms. “You are, just by being here,” I said. “You help because you understand. No other person has ever understood me like you do.” I held her close. “You understand me, and I get you.”
Silence stretched as I stared at the ceiling, completely drained. “AK?” Phebe’s sleepy voice finally asked.
“Yeah?”
“Are they still there?”
I tensed and looked at the end of the bed. I knew what she meant. The terrors. I braced myself for seeing those fucked-up faces . . . but then I exhaled a long, long breath. “No,” I said hoarsely, seeing only the darkness of the night. “They’ve gone,” I said, a sudden lightness creeping to my heavy heart. “They’ve gone.”
“Mm,” she murmured and rubbed her cheek against my chest. “That is because you are not to blame either.”
I glanced down at Phebe’s red hair and took in her words. You are not to blame either . . .
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but that night I slept. For more than two fucking hours.
And I didn’t dream at all.
Chapter Sixteen
AK
“Hello,” Phebe said as I opened my eyes. She was still lying beside me where we had fallen asleep last night. My eyes felt like they’d taken one hell of a beating. My throat was raw, and I was exhausted.
“Hey.” I glanced down to see her hand still in mine. I flinched when I stared directly at a ray of light coming through the crack between the curtain and the window. “It’s morning?” I ran my hand over my bare chest. I must have taken my shirt off in the night.
“It is afternoon.” She smiled. “We slept the entire morning and night.” Her smile left her lips, and she lifted her free hand and ran it down my face. “How are you feeling?”
“Rough,” I said. Phebe was looking at me, clearly wanting me to say more. I stretched out my neck and thought of last night. Of everything I had confided. I waited for the usual tight chest. The shame and the guilt. And it was there. I was sure it would never go away. But today it was . . . less. “Better,” I said and meant it. “A little better.”
Her eyes softened. “Good.” She kissed my hand again. “I have been thinking while you slept.”
“Yeah?”
She nodded. “I think . . . I think we were meant to find each other, AK. I think we were meant to find each other, to leave hell together.” I didn’t reply. I had no words. “I think that no solution is quick, and no remedy will magically make our pain drift away. I believe that we must go through this pain we are feeling in order to move on. And I believe whatever God or greater power exists above us brought us together so we may heal together. Heal the other in a way that no other person ever could.” Her eyes dipped, and a fuck-off blush coated her freckled cheeks. “At least that is what I have been considering.” She laughed a single laugh. “But that could be me just being silly.”
“No.” I put my hand under her chin. I lifted her face, waiting until those shy eyes were back on me. “I think you’re right, Red. I think you could be fucking right.” A beaming smile lit up her face. “What?”
“Red,” she said with a sigh. “I like it when you call me Red.”
“Yeah?”
A nod. “Yes.”
I shuffled closer and closer until my nose touched her nose and my lips hovered over hers. “You know what I like?” She shook her head. “Your lips, on mine.”
She swallowed and pressed a hand on my chest. The minute her hand met my skin, my cock stirred in my jeans.
“You do?” she asked softly.
I ran my teeth over my bottom lip. “Mm . . .” I leaned in and brushed my lips over hers until I heard a moan from her mouth. I ran my hand up her bare arm to the thin strap of her nightgown. Her skin bumped at my touch, and I smiled at all the freckles covering her body.
“AK,” she murmured and closed her eyes.
“Red?”
“Kiss me,” she begged. I pushed my hand into her hair.
And I fucking kissed her.
My lips stung, the after-effects of the fucking crying. My lips—and hers—were swollen, but I sure as fuck wasn’t pulling back and neither was she. My tongue pushed through into her mouth, and she moaned.
I wasn’t hurried. I wasn’t fast. Being with her, like this, was different. No bitch had ever known me, not like this. No one had ever known everything about my demons—not even Vike and AK knew how bad the terrors had gotten.
But Red did. And I knew her. Knew of her abuse. The kid. The same guilt and shame that ran though my veins ran through hers too. I broke from Phebe’s mouth, and she gasped for breath. I didn’t stop. I tracked my lips down her neck, pushing her red hair back on the pillow. The two of us took up every inch of this narrow bed, but I liked it. She was here, under me, beside me, and no matter where she or I moved, the other was there.
I shifted on top of her, moving her underneath my body. My arms flexed on either side of her head as I looked down at her. Her blue eyes were wide, the pupils blown. “Fucking beautiful.” I pushed the remaining strands of hair from her face.
“AK,” she said, and her hushed voice seemed to hold a note of surprise. Her cheeks were flushed, but I could still see her freckles underneath the pink. And then it hit me. She had been whored out, probably been fucked in more ways than most bitches would ever see in a lifetime. But when it came to this, slow, meaning more than seducing and coming, she was fucking lost.