Beneath Blood and Bone (Thicker Than Blood #2) Page 25

It was a look that told me she gave a shit without me having to hear the words, and more importantly, without forcing me to say them back.

  “Go back to sleep,” I told her as I pulled the blanket up to her chin. “I got shit to do.”

  Pushing myself off the mattress, I turned away from her and shoved my hand down my jeans, adjusting my half-hard dick.

  “E?”

  Glancing over my shoulder, I found Autumn with her eyes closed and her mouth wide open in a yawn.

  “What?”

  She cracked an eyelid. “Good night,” she said sleepily, and within moments she was snoring again.

  I stayed where I was, watching her for several more seconds, feeling something distinctly uncomfortable flare to life in my chest.

  Uncomfortable but not exactly unwanted.

  • • •

  “Are you fucking her?” I demanded, staring hard at Adam. The sight of him and Liv arguing earlier had been weighing heavy on my mind. So much so that I’d left Autumn sleeping and came to find Adam. He was still at the garage, like he often was, working well into the night and usually early morning.

  But if he’d fallen down that rabbit hole and she’d gotten her claws in him, it meant I couldn’t trust him anymore. And if I couldn’t trust Adam, there was no one left here, aside from Autumn, that I could trust.

  “It’s not what you’re thinking,” Adam said, and sighed. He closed his eyes a moment and shook his head.

  I stepped forward and watched him stiffen. “You have no goddamn clue what the fuck I’m thinking.”

  His hands fisted at his sides and his nostrils flaring, Adam held his ground and my gaze. “You gonna hit me again? When I’ve been doing nothing but trying to protect your ass?”

  I paused. “Protecting me?”

  “She’s on the motherfucking warpath, Eagle. She’s been paying me visits since you shacked up with that crazy little mama of yours. Threatening to send me back to the pits if I don’t help her.”

  I’d known it was coming, been waiting for it even, waiting for the other shoe to drop and Liv to make her move. But at the same time, I’d hoped she would have realized how fucking idiotic it was to turn on me. Something that would undoubtedly lead to her revealing what the fuck she’d been doing all these years behind Jeffers’s back. Was she really going to risk losing everything over me? No one was that goddamn crazy.

  But even as I thought it, I realized, yeah, Liv was that goddamn crazy.

  “She’s realmente loco, man,” Adam continued. Reaching up, he rubbed his temples with the heels of his palms. “She be riding my dick, screaming at me to be choking her, telling me all sorts of crazy shit like.” Dropping his hands, he raised his wide, bloodshot eyes to mine and sighed. “Don’t know how the fuck you’ve been dippin’ your shit in that all this time. She’s got me wanting to put myself back in the pits.”

  Under different circumstances, I would have laughed in his face for falling into the ninth circle of hell that was Liv’s pussy, but none of this was actually funny. Liv was planning something, and even if she couldn’t manage to recruit Adam, that didn’t mean she would stop trying. She’d find someone willing to go up against me; I was sure of it.

  “What does she want?” I asked, feeling twitchy. Half of me didn’t want to know what was coming, the same half of me that wanted to remain in the quiet place I’d finally found. The other half of me just wanted Liv dead. Ached for it, even.

  “She wants me to set your chica up.” Adam rolled his eyes. “Told me to make it real public and shit. Lots of witnesses to her fuckin’ around behind your back.” Blowing out a frustrated breath, Adam refocused on me. “You know what they do to branded women they find getting their freak on.”

  It didn’t happen very often; most of the branded women in Purgatory wouldn’t do jack shit to fuck up the security and safety the brand afforded them. But there had been some, a few girls who’d fooled a man into branding them and then gone ahead and continued to do whatever and whoever they wanted.

  Jeffers didn’t take that sort of shit lightly. As weak as he could be when it came to actually enforcing the rules here, he was the one who’d come up with the branding, to give married women, and women in a serious relationship, a sense of security.

  And it was Jeffers who’d let Liv throw those women into the cage. The men too. Where the entire population of Purgatory watched as they were torn apart by rotters.

  Just the thought of Autumn being locked inside that pile of steel, forced to defend herself against one of those walking pus bags with only her two hands, it was enough to turn my stomach. I wouldn’t be able to save her, not with the sheer number of people there. I’d be overthrown the moment I made my move.

  “Keep fucking her,” I ground out.

  Adam’s eyes went wide. “Fuck you,” he spat. “I’m—”

  I stepped forward, bringing us chest to chest. “I need her distracted. Just until I figure out how the fuck I’m going to get Autumn out of here.”

  Turning away, I closed my eyes, and for the millionth time since I’d found her waiting for me, I wished she hadn’t come back. There was no way a miracle like that was going to happen twice. Not here. Hell on earth didn’t come equipped with miracles. Only death . . . and Liv.

  “You gonna owe me, man,” Adam called out. “Big time.”

  “You can have everything but my truck,” I said, slapping the tarpaulin aside. “Every goddamn thing.”

  Outside the garage, I half expected to find Liv waiting for me, finger on the trigger and ready to blow me away, but both the lot and the field were empty and quiet. Not even the usual sound of crickets could be heard.

  Panic hit me, and I started jogging. I should have never left Autumn alone, not even at this time of night. All Liv would need was a few strong men and a set of bolt cutters, and she’d be inside my place. Inside where Autumn was naked and sleeping, and goddamn vulnerable.

  Cursing, I started running, not slowing until I’d reached my front door and found every single lock still secured. Breathing hard, I ripped my keys free from my jeans and opened them one by one. My heartbeat didn’t slow until I was inside, the door shut behind me, and every one of those goddamn locks back in place.

  Once inside my room, I found Autumn sitting up, the moonlight reflecting off her eyes. Without a word, I stripped quickly and climbed into bed beside her. When I pulled her up against me, she settled comfortably into the crook of my arm and sighed.

  I was feeling things, all sorts of things that made me feel both warm and tight. Worry and anger, wondering how the fuck I was going to pull this off, but also a sense of peace. And other things. Things I refused to give a name to, let alone say out loud.

  So instead of dwelling on them, I buried my face against her bare shoulder and breathed in the salty scent of her skin. It was intoxicating; sweat and dirt and female.

  “Good night,” I muttered, and hugged her tightly to me.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Autumn

  “Do you ever wish that there was . . . more?” I asked. My face was tucked against his bare chest, my features pressing against his hot skin. I drew my fingers in lazy trails over the eagle on his abdomen, tracing over the black curves of its fearsome wings.

  Morning would be coming soon, and with it the day. Eagle would walk me to work, stopping at one of the stands on the way to barter for our breakfast. Then after he left me in Alice’s care, he would leave for the garage or whatever else it was that he did around here.

  I would work all day, as I had for the last several days, making small talk with Alice, and then later, when the sun was setting, Eagle would appear to take me home, and we’d stop for something to eat on the way. The days were quiet; I hadn’t seen Liv since that night at the garage. I would even go as far as to say the days had become sometimes boring, and usually long and predictable. I wasn’t complaining, I just felt like maybe something was missing.

  “What the fuck kind of question is that?” he asked, his ch
est heaving with his words.

  Stilling my fingers, I glanced up at his face. He lay beside me in bed, his eyes closed, and his head propped up against the wall behind him. From this angle, I was able to really appreciate the harsh symmetry of his features.

  “Everyone wishes there was more than this,” he muttered, his eyes still closed. “Stupid, if you ask me. This is it.”

  His arms tightened around me, and I dropped my gaze back down to his eagle. My attention drifted to his other tattoos, the skulls that decorated both of his arms. I didn’t like them nearly as much as his eagle; they were crude, not as well done, and not nearly as beautiful. He’d told me that they represented his kills early on; that each skull was originally meant to be a reminder that he was still here, that he had killed a biter, and not the other way around.

  To him, they were meant to be a reminder of life. But to me, they were a reminder of death. The death that stalked us, hunted us, and would undoubtedly find us.

  I hated the biters, and these skulls were a constant reminder of what was out there, beyond the silly gates these people thought protected them. When in reality, it was a self-imposed cage, and most of the animals on the inside were just as wild as those on the outside.

  “There has to be more,” I said, frowning. “I want more.” I attempted to sit up, no longer wanting to stare at the skulls. His arms tightened further, my strength no match for his. Frustrated at the knowledge I wasn’t going anywhere, I glared up at him. His eyes were open now, his thick brow pulled hard and tight over dark and narrowed eyes.

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  He’d practically growled the words and my heart sped up. I didn’t want Eagle angry with me, and I certainly didn’t want to fight with him.

  I stopped wriggling and lost my glare, and after a moment his grip loosened.

  “I don’t know,” I said with a sigh. “For so long, all I cared about was making it through the day without dying. Every day I had to get up, had to search for food and wood. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have made it. But now . . .”

  Biting down on my lip, I turned away from his gaze and settled my cheek against his chest again. I didn’t know how to explain it to him. My own thoughts made little sense to me, so how could I expect him to understand?

  “But now?” he prompted.

  Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes and continued. “It doesn’t feel like enough. I feel like there’s something missing, like I’m lost and searching for something. Does that make any sense?”

  I felt guilty saying it. I should feel content here, in his arms, no less. He’d taken me in, he’d cared for me, and he was still caring for me. But something wasn’t right. Maybe it was this place, or maybe it was the people here. It was a constant thought lately that I couldn’t fully grasp, but neither could I shake.

  “Autumn.” His use of my real name startled me, and I glanced up. He was watching me, his expression neutral, while his moonlit eyes burned with intensity.

  “Home,” he stated. “You’re searching for home, but you’re not gonna find it. It’s gone. It’s all gone. You need to make your peace with that right the fuck now or you’re going to lose your goddamn mind chasing something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

  Maybe he was right; maybe I was searching for home. Maybe being around people once again, and having more time to think, had led me down a dangerous path. With nothing more to say, we lapsed into silence, with only the steady thumps of our hearts filling the quiet that had settled between us.

  “Squirrel,” he said, his deep voice piercing the silence. “I want to show you something.”

  “I hate that name,” I blurted.

  “Yeah?” He snorted. “And I hate that I can’t have a cold beer and a blow job whenever the hell I want. Sucks to be us.”

  Still clinging to him, I gazed up at him through narrowed eyes.

  He stared back at me. “I can’t call you Autumn, and I can’t call you Squirrel. What the fuck am I supposed to call you?”

  Shrugging, I looked off across the shadowy room. I didn’t know who I was anymore; everything I had been had been stripped away twice now. I wasn’t Autumn anymore. Autumn had died along with her family and friends. And I wasn’t Squirrel, the girl who’d lived in a cave, who growled, bit, and scratched her way through life, her only focus on surviving.

  Who was I now? Who was this girl in the arms of this man, who’d changed so much in such a short time and was suddenly hungering for more? I didn’t know. So instead of dwelling on what I didn’t know, I turned my attention to what I did.

  “I’ve never had a beer,” I said. “I had some wine a few times at parties, though. And I do know how to give a blow job.”

  It wasn’t exactly a lie; I had attempted it a few times. But like everything else I’d done sexually before Eagle, it had been a fumbling experiment between two overly excited teenagers.

  Eagle’s eyes found mine, his gaze sharp as his frown intensified. Suddenly embarrassed, I almost wished I hadn’t said anything until I saw his expression start to shift.

  Hunger. That was what I saw staring back at me, and it urged me on, my own need for him growing. Being with him, touching him, feeling him—it was my favorite part of every day, the only moments I really looked forward to.

  As the heat in my belly spread throughout the whole of me, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his mouth. His hand cupped the back of my head, his fingers twisting through my hair, and he pulled me closer. We kissed long and hard, messy and rough. Our teeth clashed, and his grip on me turned bruising.

  When I felt him grow hard beneath me, nudging against the apex of my thighs, I shifted away and pulled out of the kiss. Slipping out of his lap and onto the floor, I positioned myself between his legs. As I pried open his jeans, I glanced up at him, and my breath caught in my throat. The look on his face—I loved that look—was becoming more and more frequent.

  It wasn’t hunger, although the hunger was there lighting up his dark eyes, and it wasn’t need. It was something much lighter, yet inexplicably profound. It was almost innocent in its rawness, and on a face like his, so harsh and unforgiving, it was a look that took my breath away.

  I stroked him gently with my hand, enjoying the feel of his smooth skin, one of the few places on his body where the skin was unmarred and soft. It wasn’t that I disliked his rough hands or his sun-kissed, tattooed skin, it was the heady feeling that came with knowing there were parts of him untouched by the elements. Almost as if it were a secret that now only I was privy to.

  As I drew him into my mouth, he groaned, a low rumble from deep within his chest. That sound, like every sound he made when I was touching him, sent a thrilling ripple of excitement through me. I loved that I could do this to him, that I could make him feel this way. I loved that I could make him feel at all.

  Knowing that made the act much more enjoyable than I remembered it being. When I should have been nervous, I was anything but. In fact, I felt emboldened, empowered, even sexy. Picking up speed, I followed my instincts, relying on what seemed right and what I wanted instead of what I thought I should be doing. I gave and I gave, and he allowed me to do so. And the results were so much intimate than I ever thought they would be.

  His hips jerked and his body tensed, and another groan tore free from his throat. Raising my eyes, I watched him watching me as he slid free from my mouth. He let out a ragged breath, his grip on my hair loosening as his thumb softly stroked the side of my cheek.

  Keeping our gazes locked, I crawled up his body, bringing us nose to nose as his dark eyes swallowed me whole. Since the day I’d met this man, he’d made me feel a variety of things—frightened, worried, and vulnerable. And then comforted, safe, and warm.

  And now, it was so much more than that.

  “You can call me whatever you want,” I whispered, and gave him a devious smirk.

  His dark eyes glittered with amusement and crinkled at the corners. “I have something to show you, Squirrel.”

/>   • • •

  The heart of Purgatory was empty and quiet, the air considerably colder than midday, when the sun was at its peak. Off in the distance I could hear the beat of music, but it was too far off, hidden behind buildings to pinpoint its exact location.

  With my hand in his, Eagle turned us down a dark pathway between buildings, stopping beneath a rickety metal ladder. Reaching up, he grabbed the bottom rung, and when he gave it a hearty tug, it came screeching down.

  “What’s up there?” I asked, counting what had to be at least five stories.

  Smiling, Eagle shoved me in front of him. “You’ll see.”

  Hesitantly, I took hold of the ladder and pulled myself up. Eagle was right behind me, caging me with his body as I climbed. I’d never minded heights before, but as the ladder creaked and groaned with our weight, I found myself climbing faster, anxious to make it to the top.

  When we reached the top, I climbed over the lip of the roof, a little breathless. Eagle followed me over and took hold of my hand. I glanced around curiously as we crossed the blacktop.

  “I was married,” he said quietly, his eyes scanning the dark horizon. “Had two kids, a boy and a girl. Worked as a mechanic and sometimes construction. Lived on the same street my whole goddamn life.” He snorted softly, shaking his head. “Married the girl next door.”

  Pressing my lips together, I stayed quiet as my heart raced. I didn’t know why he was telling me this, but I did know these revelations were huge. Eagle didn’t talk about his life before; at least, never to me.

  “I killed them,” he said suddenly, his features tight. “I left them alone, and when I came back . . .” he trailed off, his agony plain to see.

  “I killed my dad.” My words came out in a rush. He was in pain, I could see it in his face, hear it in his voice, and I couldn’t bear it. I didn’t want him to be alone inside his pain. I wanted him to know that I was there with him, that he never had to be alone again

  “My dad killed Mom. He wouldn’t let me watch, but I heard it. And then later, he was sick, and I had to . . . I had to . . .” I swallowed hard. “I had to kill him,” I whispered.