Page 67 of Before We Burn

I drop her onto the bed and she bounces back up instantly, her hands positioned on her hips. Her lips move, but I don’t hear anything from them. I turn my back, grabbing the flower from the champagne glass I stole to use as a vase. When I turn around, I stick that damn flower behind her ear with a shit-eating grin on my face. She’s home, she’s safe, and I can relax a bit.

I figure she sees the thoughts circulating in my head, but I won’t show her how broken I became when she left. I look around the room, trying to get her to pay attention to the aesthetics. The walls are a light cream with a brown accent wall. The bed has a white fluffy duvet, similar to the one I saw in her room. Plus, there are pillows galore on this bed. One of the only bedrooms with an obscene amount of them. She looks around and a smile pulls at her lips, but it slowly begins to fade.

I knew something happened with Nadiya, and I knew her memories were going to be anything but painless. But this is more. I turn around again, moving to the drawers to pull out the pajamas and slippers I found for Marz, but she’s already moving past me.

For some reason, I thought she would want to sit and talk for a bit. Figure out what’s going on inside of her head. But I was drastically mistaken. Marz has been doing this a long time; she was an assassin the majority of her life and never took a moment to slow down and examine things. I know that now is a terrible time to start, but I don’t want her to feel like she has to carry it alone. Because I understand what it is to view yourself as a monster.

“I need a shower,” is the last thing I hear before she disappears into the bathroom, then I hear water turn on. I look at the door, and the trail of clothes leading inside catches my attention. My eyes alternate between her clothes and the bathroom, over and over. My thoughts travel back to the last night we had together. The feel of her skin on mine, the way she moaned, and the way her body shook when she orgasmed. My dick is firm, and I have to close my eyes and breathe to pull myself back to reality.

Come on, Everett. Get a grip.

The fact is, I care about Marz, and she just found out something that was traumatic enough for her to be gone for six days. Maybe I need her, but maybe she needs a moment alone.

I open my eyes and look at the bathroom door again, ignoring the path of clothes and under garments leading inside. I want to give Marzana whatever she needs, whether that be someone to listen to or someone to take her mind off of whatever happened. I know she’s naked in the bathroom, and honestly I keep trying to picture Constantine. I hate her enough that my erection goes down for the slightest moment…until Marz comes into view. She’s wearing a plastic shower cap to protect her straightened hair from coiling up, and her body drips with water, forming an almost-holographic effect against her skin.

I want to pretend I don’t care about her, like this is all some made up fantasy. But over time, I’ve grown to see her in a new light. Marzana is kind and caring. She wears her heart on her sleeve, even if she denies it. She saved me from a fate similar to Benny’s, even when I was one of the ones destroying her school. She gave me chance after chance without considering what others would think of her. She is unapologetically her, and that alone is enough to make me love her.

I stand next to the glass door, the green tiles on the wall shining against the contrast of Marz’s chestnut skin. There’s a chance she will dismiss me, but there is also the chance she doesn’t want to be alone. She washes herself, sending cautious glances at me as I just spend these moments with her.

“I don’t want to talk, Everett.” Her voice is controlled and nothing like it typically was. She’s clearly holding onto a very thin thread.

“We don’t have to talk,” I say gently, fidgeting with my fingers to maintain focus.

We’re silent for another moment, nothing but the sound of water and the faint echoes of conversations from outside the room. Marz suddenly stills, her hands by her side with the washcloth hanging loosely between her fingers. Her shoulders slump, and I see the wear this trip took on her. I step into the shower with her, the glass doors fogging when I open them. The water is scalding but quickly relaxes all the muscles in my body. I grip her waist and turn her around. Her eyes are still glassy. It isn’t unusual for a vampire to look tired, but she looks exhausted.

I cup her face with my hands, my thumbs brushing against the side of her jaw. “Okay, so maybe I want you to talk to me. You can’t hide that type of pain from me. I understand it too well.”

She shakes her head and pulls herself up to kiss me, but I stop her. This isn’t Marz. Something happened—something I could figure out if I paid attention. She isn’t glowing like I thought—she isn’t shining like a million diamonds—she looks dull and defeated. The radiance I sought just…diminished. Worry coats my insides, and I can’t unsee her. I need to help.

I hold her at her ribs, my thumbs brushing her breasts. She pulls in her bottom lip, making sure to keep her eyes away from mine as streaks form on her face and slowly mix with the water from the shower. Marz is crying. Vampires can cry?

I shake the thought from my mind and step back. I look over every inch of her body, her thick long legs, hips, and breasts. She’s holding herself, hunched over and filled with so much sadness. I’m not any good at this—I’ve never really done it—but I know I’ve felt like this, and I had wished someone would just come and help me get clean. As childish as that sounds. Hope is being this sad but still wanting to be better. That’s what made me realize in order to get better, you need three things: hope, help, and harmony.

You need hope first—that’s what gets you to ask for help, and that help can turn into something beautiful.

I take off her shower cap, the water quickly soaking her hair causing the coiled spirals start to reform. She tries to block the water and duck out of the way.

“Everett, my hair!”

I don’t respond, just uncap the shampoo and begin to lather her hair. She slowly begins to relax and my own comfort settles in. We settle into a companionable silence, and a sense of ease covers me.

“Your hair is beautiful. I missed you; I missed your hair. I just want sleep with spirals in

my face all night.” I snort and correct myself, “All day. It would be all day, wouldn’t it?” She laughs softly with her head tilted back.

I trail my fingers farther up her scalp until I’m at her forehead. She’s relaxed and soft moans bounce off the walls. My dick throbs, but I ignore it. I can’t touch her, not yet. I continue to wash her hair. I let her condition it, because I know that’s a process I can’t commit to. It was fine, though. I need to start washing her.

So, I start at her feet and take my time. I scrub every inch of her like I’m scrubbing off whatever haze found its way over her. When I get to her face, her eyes are filled with heat. I had stepped into the shower without much thought, so my clothes are clinging to my body, and my pants are so heavy they’re pulling my briefs down with them.

I make sure to keep my eyes on hers while I strip out of my clothes and wash myself. A small smile pulls at her lips, and my face mirrors a brighter one. I don’t drag her out with me like I want to, but I need to see this through. This is what I would want—just one person to do what they say, to stick to their word.

I get out first, drying myself and throwing on a shirt and briefs. I return to Marz, finding her with her face turned to the water, eyes shut. I knock on the glass door, and an eye peeks open to find me holding a towel for her. She must’ve thought I left for good; I want to tell her she’s out of her mind for even thinking that.

I motion for her to come on, my thoughts going to an obscene place of what I want to do to her—how I would touch her, kiss her, lick her.

I need to lie down and hump a pillow—something. Being raised around all men and not having much interaction with women did a number on me.

I just want to see that she feels cared for. She steps out after a brief moment of hesitation and allows me to dry her off. She put some stuff in her hair and wrapped it in a special towel the bathroom somehow had. It feels like we’ve lived here our entire lives and fell into a comfortable routine.