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He shakes his head, his curls tossing around him. “I'm not safe anywhere. Even when it feels like I am. I do want to pretend for a little while though.” He yawns, his eyes fluttering as he struggles to keep them open. “Only for a few more minutes.”
His eyes fall closed and his hand goes still on my arm. I reach out to stroke his hair while watching his chest rise and fall, worried if I look away for even a second, it'll stop. The men who had his mom killed will be coming for him soon. They clearly wanted to hurt him first before killing him. I can't allow them to get near him again.
How do I protect someone I'm supposed to stay away from?
He snuggles in closer to me, soft snores escaping him as his body relaxes against the bed. I wrap my arm around him, not caring about the mess right now. He's too peaceful for me to disturb. When he wakes up he'll have to face reality again and relive his last moments with his mother. I'll delay it for as long as I can. If he's asleep and dreaming, he won't be hurting.
My gaze drifts to his tattoos, and a few I don't recognize are scattered along his lower stomach. Did he have those when we were held captive? It was so dark most of the time in the cellar, and at the hotel, I was so desperate to be near him, I didn't bother looking. They aren’t fresh so they couldn't have been done recently.
With all the swimming pool trips we did and lakes we boated at, I don't recall him ever having so many before he was taken. Red and orange flames rest below his belly button. It isn't familiar either and it's not faded enough to be over a year old.
My face scrunches together and I'm probably overthinking everything harder than I should. He was held down there this whole time, wasn't he? My fingers stroke the red burn mark on his hip; it looks fresh and new. Days old, not weeks. If the men I killed didn't do it, then who did? Is he continuing to hurt himself?
My heart squeezes and something ugly gnaws at my stomach. I need answers and when he wakes up, I'll try my best to get them out of him. Any way I can. Even if I have to threaten to take away something we both hate going without as an incentive.
He stirs in his sleep and I hold him closer, leaving the covers off us. I didn't need them in the basement and I don't need them now. Not when being tangled in him is the warmest I've felt in a long time.
Eighteen
Ignacio
The pounding in my head wakes me and I'm pressed against a warm body. It's hard and familiar. Everything from the last twenty-four hours slowly comes back to me, including the events that took place before I got here. My tia’s phone call, the man in my hotel room, and my mom dying right in front of me. Sharp stabbing pains jab at my chest and it's like a thousand knives are shooting through me.
All I could think about was going somewhere I could breathe and escape the agony, so I came to the one place where I felt like I was at home and safe—Everett. I know it's not his real name but it’s all I'd known him as for a long time and I'm not ready to separate myself from that part of him.
I tried to see him as something else. Someone monstrous and heartless. It worked for a little while but then when we are alone, he stays the same person he always was hiding behind another name and job. Everything from within is still there and no matter how hard I try not to miss him, whenever I'm feeling hopeless, he's all I see.
I need to leave and remember none of this is real. Every time I believe it is, something happens to prove me wrong. I can't stay and risk it again. Next time he hurts me, I won't be able to walk away from it. The physical pain my abductors caused was brutal and sometimes unbearable but the internal hurt from Everett breaking my heart was earth shattering.
Everett stirs a little and his leg wraps around me. I didn't only come here to escape the worst day of my life, I'm also here because I was feeling too unhinged and if I let it take over, I'll end up doing something I could regret. I recognized the rage when I glanced in the bathroom mirror.
My dad and uncle often had the same darkness in their eyes. Whenever they did, they were their worst selves, shifting into monsters. The only other person besides my mom who helps me remain human is Everett and I need to hang on to that part of myself anyway I can.
I rub my nose into the small bit of hair on his chest and breathe him in before carefully pulling away, prying his limbs off me. He's so deep in sleep, he doesn't fight me, and I'm able to easily roll him to his back, wrinkling my nose at the mess we made. We were lying in our own cum, our skin covered in it.
I take in his sleeping form one more time before getting off the bed to get washed up in the bathroom. My clothes are scattered on the floor, piled with his. Instead of putting my own shirt and underwear on after I wipe my skin clean in the sink, I leave them on the floor and put his on. Grabbing my pants from the floor, I slide them over my hips and quietly slip out of his bedroom.
The house is quiet as I walk through the living room. Christmas decorations cover every inch, but the Christmas tree only has lights wrapped around it and a star at the top. No ornaments hang from the branches and the tree skirt is missing.
It makes me think of the one my mom and I didn't get a chance to finish. My heart pains when I remember her hand touching mine as we both touched the white dove. I guess it wasn't so lucky after all.
Passing the dancing Santa next to a beige sectional, I search around for any sign of his brother. I sigh in relief when he's nowhere in sight. I assume I'm successful at leaving unnoticed until a loud clearing of someone's throat comes from behind me the moment I place my hand on the doorknob.
“It's a weird time of the day to be doing the walk of shame, isn't it? Usually people do it early in the morning or maybe even sneak out while it's dark. You only had to wait a few more hours.”
“I—”
“Save it. You shouldn't be here. Not only is it dangerous for my brother, it's risky for you too. How do you know you weren't followed?”
“I wasn't.”
“So you say. Sometimes we let our hearts lead instead of our minds and it's not always a good thing. Look where it's gotten my brother.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don't play stupid with me. You should wait a little while before you walk out that door.”
“Why would I do that?”
