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“The ring was, not the symbol. And don’t freak—the two who wore these were brother and sister, but that’s okay, we’re so not that, and that’s fine. But they would always say, ‘Wonder Twin powers activate.’ And then they could do all sorts of crazy things.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Yeah, it’s a little bass ackwards, but hey, we are too, so it fits. But I want to emphasize how the brother sister thing…sonotan issue here.”
I slapped at his chest, then pushed up and pressed my lips to his. He didn’t move other than to open his mouth slightly and let me in. He was probably scared to even touch me after last night, but this was good, too. Hopefully going further would be easier next time we tried…
Lord knew my body wanted him now, despite justthinkingof having sex with him brought up some anxiety.
Just kissing. I’m just kissing.I leaned into him more and gave a final suck to his bottom lip, then eased back. “Rings. Stories.”
He touched a kiss to my nose and smiled. “You like your stories.”
“You have so many. I don’t have any kind of life, so I’m living vicariously through you.”
“For now. We’ll make our own stories together, too, okay?”
“Deal. Now talk.”
“This one.” He held up his thumb. “Was my grandfather’s. It was his wedding ring if you can believe that.”
“Wow!”
“You think I’m big, he was a giant. Toughest man alive as far as I was concerned. Used to box, was an amateur heavyweight champ looking to go pro way back.”
“Wow. That’s where you get it.”
He grunted. “Grams died when I was eight and that’s when he gave this ring to me. He said when I was old enough, I needed to wear that ring and always remember two things. One: Family is everything. Two: Never go down without a fight.”
“He sounds awesome.”
“Gramps died when I was twelve.” He glanced at the Christmas tree and didn’t speak for a while. “And I hid the ring from Dad. He would have taken it.”
“What’d your gramps think of your dad?”
“Hated him. Even kicked his ass once, too. Badly!” Hunter shook his head. “But Dad’s retaliation was too much so he didn’t do it again.”
“Retaliation?”
“It was two-fold: he beat Mom to a pulp and didn’t let us travel to see Gramps for almost a year. Prick knew how to stay off the grid back then like he is now.”
“It’s crazy your mom stayed with him so long.”
He let out a sigh, then said, “My first memory of the abuse was when I was seven or so. I’m sure it was going on a lot longer than that, Mom doesn’t talk much about it.”
“She feels bad.”
Nodding, he went on. “But I started noticing the bruises. Dad hadn’t come at me yet, not until I was about nine. Dad got us both pretty good around then, and that’s when Gramps pounded the hell out of him.”
“And it got worse.” I ran my finger along the thick scar along his neck.
“Yeah. Dad did a couple tours, and each one changed him.” He swallowed hard and shifted in the seat. “Made him more paranoid, focused, intolerant of imperfection. I told you what happened already on his final mission.”
“I’ve read up on what it takes to leave an abusive home. Your mom’s so strong to have gotten away from him.”
“She is strong.” He pulled me closer. “Like you are.”
“Even more so with my power ring.”
