Thicker than Blood Page 24

  “What are you doing?” Leisel yelled.

  “Finding the stupid can,” I yelled back.

  “Leave it!” she screamed. “It’s shit, this is all shit!”

  Finally, I could see the can. As I flattened my body, stretching out my arm in an attempt to reach it, I ignored the cockroach that scuttled by my fingertips, as well as the sudden frantic beating of my heart that caused, until I finally found it, all alone beneath this equally sad chair. Wrapping my hand around the poor can, I dragged it free.

  When I got to my feet, I found Leisel glaring at me, incensed by my actions. Suddenly, she lunged at me, reaching for the can, and I quickly darted out of her way, flinching when she tripped and stumbled into the armchair.

  “This is bullshit!” she yelled as tears ran down her face, smearing what little makeup remained. “This is all bullshit!” Curled into fists, she brought her hands down hard against her thighs.

  “You did this, Eve!” she screamed at me. “You made me go there, you made me leave, and now this is our life! This is all your fault!”

  Biting down on the inside of my cheek, shame and guilt flooding me, I realized she was right. This was all my fault. I’d made her go to Fredericksville, then I’d made her leave it. And despite her protests and her willingness to die, I’d agreed to follow Bryce and Mike to their camp, to Purgatory.

  This was all my fault. Her misery, her pain, it was my burden to bear.

  Alex was staring at me, glaring actually, silently willing me to set the damned can down, but I couldn’t, I wouldn’t, and instead clutched it closer to me. I was holding this stupid can as if it were a lifeline, this poor can that nobody wanted, that nobody loved, that was only good for one thing. This sad little can that people only deemed good enough to pass along to someone else.

  “Calm down, Lei,” Alex said, his tone surprisingly conciliatory. Dropping beside her, he attempted to gain her attention. “Food is food. It doesn’t matter. Eve and I are both fighting today, we’ll earn more. Between the three of us, we’ll make do.”

  He reached for her only to end up smacked away as Leisel began to sob again.

  Making a strangled sound deep within his throat, Alex’s features hardened. Grabbing hold of Leisel’s wrists, he forcefully yanked her from the chair and into his lap. She struggled at first, trying to wiggle her way free from him, but he only gripped her tighter, forcing her to remain where she was. She began to cry angry tears, her sobs sounding more frustrated than sad, and eventually she gave up fighting and instead sank against him, burying her face into his chest.

  “It wasn’t for nothing,” he said, cupping the back of her head. Leisel looked up, and directly into his eyes while Alex attempted to wipe her tears away. “You did an amazing thing, Leisel, you earned us this food.” He paused briefly before continuing. “And you looked goddamn amazing doing it.”

  No longer crying, Leisel looked up at Alex as a blush rose in her cheeks. A moment passed by in silence, and then another and another. Then suddenly they were kissing fervently, Alex’s hands buried in her hair, Leisel gripping the back of his shirt. It was noisy and messy and extraordinarily passionate, and I was left standing there feeling awkward and incredibly jealous.

  It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy for her, for them, because I was. But I hated that I was happy for them, and I was jealous that I didn’t have what they did. My thoughts quickly strayed to Jami and the ways he’d always eased my pain with his experienced hands and sinful mouth. And right then, I needed him—needed that. I needed something, someone to fill this hole inside me, to fill this hole that watching them just made worse.

  Still clutching tightly to my can of corn, I padded toward the door and slipped quietly out into the hallway, forcing back my angry, bitter tears.

  Once I was outside, I headed toward the marketplace, the delectable smell of grilled rat calling my name. But when I arrived, I found myself feeling guilty at the idea of trading this can for something better, something more fulfilling. It wasn’t the can’s fault that no one wanted it. The can was simply doing its best, making do with what it had to offer, hoping that one day someone would…

  I glanced down at the can, suddenly realizing that I was being ridiculous.

  “You hungry, Wildcat?”

  I didn’t bother to turn. I’d sensed his eyes on me the second I reached the marketplace, as if he’d been waiting here for me, waiting for me to leave my room and find him. As if he had already somehow known that I would need him.

  Eventually, he came to stand in front of me, leaving me no choice but to look up at him. He looked the same as he did the day before—big, tattooed, and scary as shit. Without breaking eye contact with me, he gestured toward the man and woman manning the grill. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched them, their eyes flitting between him and me, until the man silently handed him two skewered rats without him having to ask. Or pay.

  He offered one to me and as I stared down at it, still clutching tightly to my can, trickles of traitorous guilt welled inside me at the thought of giving it away. But eventually I held it out in offering, this poor can of corn, simply because I was weak. Weak and hungry.

  Breaking eye contact, he glanced down at my can, his mouth twitching, his dark eyes dancing with laughter. Seconds passed, during which he still didn’t take my can, and I didn’t take his rat. It was him who ended our standoff, laughing and turning away. As he walked off, he glanced over his shoulder and jerked his chin, signaling that I should follow him.

  As he walked off, his obscenely large frame casting dark shadows down the walkway, everywhere people hurried to move out of his way, their reactions telling me this man was exactly what I’d figured him to be. Dangerous.

  Several more tense moments passed before I found myself trailing after him, part of me curious as to where he was going and wanting to know why he wanted me to follow. The other part of me already knew exactly what he wanted from me, and knew that I was going to give it to him.

  Right before he was about to round a corner, he stopped, waiting for me to catch up. I didn’t hurry, simply took my time reaching him, already knowing how this game worked. I’d played it before I married Shawn, and then again after I lost him. In a way, with the exception of my first marriage, my only real marriage, I’d been playing this game my whole damn life.

  But for the moment, I didn’t care. I needed this. Needed someone to take away the ache and fill the emptiness. Someone to quiet the insane buzzing inside my head.

  Because this was what I did, this was my thing, the only way I knew how to survive. It was what I did, who I was. I needed that connection to make me believe I was complete and whole and sane again, something to still the constant churning of useless emotions that coursed through me. We all had our ways. Alex was quiet, forever internalizing his demons, always a silent soldier. Leisel was the victim, constantly relying on everyone else to save her from herself. And I was…

  I was the whore.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Leisel

  “You’re holding back,” I accused Alex, narrowing my eyes at him. Here I was straddling his lap, wearing nothing but my lacy red bra and matching thong, and he was being so infuriatingly gentle. While his kisses had initially been demanding and full of hunger, they had slowed and softened, his touches nearly nonexistent as his hands barely skimmed over the surface of my skin. I wanted the Alex I’d seen last night, the one with the fire in his eyes, his body strung tight with wanting.

  “And don’t say it’s because of the bruises. They’re all nearly healed and you know it.”

  As was typical of Alex, he didn’t respond, just continued to sit there, his face an unreadable mask as his hands gently held my hips.

  Throwing my hands up in the air, I let out a huff. “Fine,” I snapped, readying to move off him.

  “Stop it,” he said quietly.

  I paused, glancing back at his face. “Stop what?”

  “Stop acting like Evelyn.”

  My eye
s flew open, widening. Hurriedly, I scrambled off his lap and stood. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  He looked up at me, his expression still giving nothing away as to what he was truly feeling, and rolled his eyes. “You’re pissed off, Lei. You’re pissed and you only want to fuck because you’re pissed.”

  “That’s not true!”

  Only it was true, maybe a little bit. I was pissed off, pissed that I’d been shortchanged after eight hours of continuous dancing, pissed off that I’d had to swallow my pride and my standards yet again, and pissed off at myself for blowing up at Evelyn like I had when she hadn’t done anything to deserve it. And now I was pissed off at Alex for being such a big fat know-it-all.

  “You wanted to last night!” I yelled, pointing at him. “So, what’s the problem now? No infected around to turn you on? Or was it the other dancers that got you going? Or maybe it was—hey!”

  Taking hold of my waist, Alex lifted me clear off my feet and stormed across the room with me half hanging over his shoulder. When he released me, I landed on my back on top of the mattress, and a loud whoosh of air burst past my lips. But before I could do much of anything, even blink, Alex was on top of me.

  “This what you want?” He practically growled the words as he jerked down my bra strap.

  With no ready response, I simply lay there, glaring up at him as he continued to somewhat violently undress me, even going as far as to rip my new underwear as he yanked it down my legs.

  When I was naked beneath him, thinking he would soon kiss me, he surprised me by gripping my arm instead and flipping me over onto my stomach. I tried to push myself upright, but he was already behind me, pushing me back down.

  “You want me to treat you like you’re one of the whores here?”

  The thought wasn’t an altogether unwelcome one. I wanted to be with him. After weeks of heavy make-out sessions and every night spent lying in his arms wishing we could do more, now that we could, I very much wanted it. I wanted to be powerful, the way Evelyn was, the way she could wrap men around her finger and get what she wanted. I was sick of being the timid mouse…I was sick of being me.

  “Or do you want it the way Whitney used to give it to you?”

  I went utterly still, unable to even blink as I tried to process what he’d just said to me. What Alex had just said to me. And suddenly I couldn’t see straight, or anything at all, I didn’t know. All I knew is that I was screaming at the top of my lungs, and fighting desperately to twist my body free from under him. Somehow I managed, though I had no idea how. Then I was face-to-face with him, still unable to see clearly, still screaming.

  My hand cracked across his handsome face, sending it flying to his right. Unfazed, he turned back to me and I slapped him again, this time across his other cheek. The second slap was hard enough that not only did his head jerk to the side, but his shoulders twisted and heaved as he tried to right himself.

  “Feel better?” he asked, rubbing his left cheek as he faced me again.

  “No!” I screamed.

  I was exactly the opposite of better. How could he have said that to me? What was he thinking, bringing up something—someone—so awful at a time when it was supposed to be just me and him being together for the first time. Could he really not be the sort of man I thought he was? It was a possibility; I’d only recently gotten to know him. And considering it was me and Evelyn who did most of the talking while Alex either grunted or rolled his eyes or spoke in two- to three-word sentences, it was a very good possibility that I didn’t know this man at all.

  But I refused to believe that. I did know him, probably better than anyone else still alive today, better even than those who were dead, simply because I knew the Alex of this world, a man who hadn’t existed before four years ago. This man might be quiet and ridiculously gruff at times, but he wasn’t stupid. There was method to his madness; whether it be for survival or showing someone he cared about them, there was a well-thought-out reason behind every one of his actions.

  Dropping back down onto the mattress, I tucked my legs beneath me, overly aware of my nakedness, but not ashamed enough to do anything about it. “Why did you do that?” I asked quietly, my voice hoarse.

  “You needed it,” he said, and shrugged. “You were pissed off, hurting too, and about to use me to make you feel better.”

  “Would that have really been so awful?” I asked, feeling bewildered. “Having sex with me? Because I thought that’s where we’ve been heading…”

  God, listen to me. Two weeks ago, I would have never had the courage to ask such a question. In fact, just a few days ago I was shying away from stripping down at the entry gate. Now, look at me. Either Purgatory and all its sins were starting to corrupt me, or I was just that damn angry, hungry, and exhausted from…everything.

  I decided on the latter, figuring it would take more than two days to corrupt someone. Or at least hoping that was the truth.

  Sighing, Alex scrubbed a hand across his scruffy jaw. His stubble was more of a beard now, something I’d never liked on men before, but on Alex, I liked it very much.

  “I’ve wanted to be with you for years,” he said, meeting my eyes. “And now I have you, you’re all mine, Leisel.” Lifting his brow, he looked at my wrist, where his brand shone dark against my pale skin. His lips twitched as a small, satisfied smile appeared. “And your first time with me isn’t going be some bullshit screw.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine.

  Three things were going through my mind in that very moment. First, had Alex just told me he’d wanted to be with me for years? And if that was the case, was that why he’d helped me escape?

  Second, what was with his “You’re all mine” caveman-type nonsense?

  And third, if I’d known how to swoon properly, I would have been swooning. It may have been crudely said and more than a little chauvinistic, but it had been said all the same.

  He wanted our first time to mean something.

  I’d been right about him. There was always a reason, always a carefully constructed plan of action forming behind his dark eyes.

  “I like you,” I told him, and reached for him. Cupping his cheek, I pulled him forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. It was Alex who deepened the kiss, slowly pushing me back until I was lying flat on the bed with him propped up over me.

  “I love you,” he said, and then, before I could respond or do much of anything other than gasp at his words, he kissed me. It was a deep kiss, a very thorough kiss, a kiss that made my body go soft and weak beneath him. It was a kiss that made me forget about my anger, my hunger…my everything.

  He broke our kiss and I relaxed into him, suddenly content with simply holding him. Content with simply being near him. I didn’t love him, not in the way I’d loved Thomas, but then again, the world had been different then, and I had been different too. This was the new world, full of fast-paced living because there were no more guarantees, no rainbow to reach the end of. There would be no one to jump out and exclaim, “Surprise! You’re on Candid Camera! Sorry for scaring the shit out of you and making you suffer for the past four years!”

  This was all we had, this right here and right now. So I decided in that moment that it didn’t matter how much or in what way that I loved Alex, only that some part of me did.

  • • •

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked Alex. Jogging through the throng of people gathered outside as he pulled me along with him, I was struggling to keep up. My legs were much shorter than his, so I had to work twice as hard just to keep from being dragged on the ground behind him.

  “You’ll see,” he said, glancing at me over his shoulder and grinning.

  Another grin. How many was that now? Two, three?

  His smiles, the genuine ones, and his full-fledged grins, were a sight to behold. They were so few and far between, causing his hard features to soften, giving him this overall youthful and playful look. They made me feel giddy and excited, especially when they were directed at me,
or because of me.

  Was this what happiness was like? It had been so long since I’d experienced any form of it, so long since I’d known what it was like to simply clutch the hand of a man, to see him smile at me and find myself returning that smile. Was this how it had been with Thomas?

  I tried to remember, to wade through the last four years of muddied horrors back to when I’d been married. I remembered our first kiss, the day he’d proposed, the day we were married, the day we found out I couldn’t have children and he’d held me so tightly while I cried. Thomas had rocked me, soothed me, told me that it didn’t matter, that I was all he’d ever need.

  Had his smiles made my belly flutter? Yes, they had. Did the warmth of his hand on mine spread throughout my entire body? Yes, it had.

  It was an odd sort of sensation, this sliver of happiness that had been thrust so unexpectedly into my lap, and along with it had come twinges of guilt as well, as if I were somehow betraying Thomas by falling for another man.

  But I shook those feelings away because if Thomas had known all I’d endured, if he’d known what Lawrence had done to me, or even had a glimpse of what the world was today, he would never begrudge me something that made me smile, that melted the ever-present cold inside me. He’d been a great man, a kind man, a man who’d put others’ needs and wants before his own. He’d been a man…like Alex.

  Many times I’d already compared the two men, Thomas and Alex, more or less hoping that Thomas would approve of Alex, maybe even like him. But the more I thought about Thomas, remembering exactly the kind of man he’d been, the more I knew I was no longer just hoping.

  Thomas would have liked him, simply because Alex made me happy.

  I was still smiling, oblivious to the people shoving past me, to the incessant shouting that seemed to come from every corner of this place, reminiscent of a twenty-four-hour carnival. There was so much noise, too much noise, but today it didn’t bother me or leave me feeling like a lowly sheep among prized cattle. Today I was smiling.