Page 82 of Fool Me Twice

“Okay, sweetheart.”

He felt Hart sag a little, his hands loosening on his shoulders and trailing down his chest. They strayed to the fresh burn mark there and lingered.

“You remembered,” Cane said simply.

Hart swallowed hard, still looking at the spot and nodding. “I remember everything,” he whispered.

Cane took his hand and pressed it into the burn, hissing at the sting at the same time that he surged up and kissed him like it was the last thing he’d get to do. He stood up with Hart in his arms, carrying him to his bedroom and throwing him on top of the sheets. He picked at his clothes until they were strewn all around his bed, swallowing Hart’s complaints and replacing them with coaxed-out moans and cries of pleasure.

He sank into his body like he was coming home and swore he’d never let him walk out of his life again.

If he managed to make one thing right in his life, it’d be that.

He fucked him over and over and over again until they were both spent, tired, and wrung out. They passed out without managing to get up to clean themselves. Painted with their release and sticky from sweat.

Cane held Hart like a lifeline.

Like the last thing still worth something in his life.

And he woke up without him there.

Chapter 17

Hart

Leaving Cane asleep after the day and night they’d spent together felt wrong, somehow. The prospect of getting out of bed had never felt like a chore, but now it did. The cold air waiting for him outside the covers was a threat instead of a welcome to a new day.

He touched Cane’s sleeping face gently, careful not to wake him. He mapped out the piercings and scars one by one, his fingers feeling like they had a mind of their own as they danced over his skin. It was almost obsessive.

Would it be so wrong to stay here forever? Was there anything more important?

It was hard to search his mind for the answers to those questions. They felt mired and sticky when he reached for them, tricky to work loose, like something else was holding them back so he could sink further into the bliss of nothingness.

He frowned, a slight headache radiating as he fought to clear his mind of the cobwebs. He unglued himself from Cane’s warm body, slipping into the bathroom quietly and turning the water on for the shower.

Stepping under the spray, he hissed at the chill water, letting it slide down his body and watching as it swirled into the drain. He felt unreasonably resentful of it, like it was running and taking something away from him. Hart didn’t want to wash their scent off his skin. He didn’t want to smell like shower gel, even if it was Cane’s.

He opted to skip the shower gel completely, turning the water off and walking out, letting his skin air-dry as he toweled his hair. He swept it away from his face, borrowing Cane’s toothbrush to brush his teeth and staring at his reflection.

He noticed his pupils were a little dilated and furrowed his brows as he got closer. Nothing. It’s nothing, his brain said.

He nodded, finishing in the bathroom in just a few minutes, padding back into the dark room and watching Cane’s ribcage expand with each breath he took. The covers slipped down, revealing the fresh burn on Cane’s chest. Hart’s mark. Something feral roared in Hart’s chest. Possessive and ugly, but not unwanted, for a change.

They’d exhausted themselves on each other, both emotionally and physically. Barely stopping to eat, or drink, or talk. Something felt fundamentally different between them, and Hart didn’t know what it meant. All he knew was that he wanted to crawl back under the covers, naked, and glue himself to Cane’s skin. Wanted to block out the world around them for just a little bit longer and keep whatever was happening between them to himself.

Just crawl back in.

The temptation had his feet moving before his head caught up. He paused, jerking. There was still danger looming over Cane, and it was Hart’s job to try and fix it. His headache got more painful, but he pushed it away and got dressed, allowing himself one more look at Cane before quietly slipping out of his apartment.

He hopped into his car and peeled away from the drab curb in front of Cane’s building, heading toward the Cursebreaker Headquarters.

His phone continued pinging with the notifications from their group chat, but Hart had only had one text on his mind since it woke him up that morning.

Fix: A cursebreaker from Arcstead came in with some info. We’re at the HQ.

He rushed through the deserted streets of Slatehollow, running a red light when he realized there was not a single other person on the road besides him. There was somebody with answers waiting for him. Somebody who could help him. And after seeing Cane on the edge of breaking down, he knew he had to get those answers as soon as he possibly could.

He pulled up in front of the headquarters and jumped out of the car, barely remembering to turn it off and lock it before he was bursting through the front door.

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