Page 75 of Power of the Mind

Tallus claimed he wasn’t asking for more than I could give, but what if getting on the bed was too much?

It mustn’t have been because I was moving before the thought had time to fully cross my mind. My knees landed on the mattress. My hands followed. Every joint felt rusty and sticky. But I wasn’t just the Tin Man in this fucked-up story, a man with an empty cavity in his chest where his heart was supposed to have grown. I was the lion without courage and the scarecrow without a brain. My dad was right. I was a stupid fuckup, and I was proving it.

I crawled to the center of the mattress and lay down as Tallus had instructed.

He stood beside the bed, taking me in. He’d kept his glasses on, nothing more. Could he be more perfect? Was it possible?

Once I was settled, he asked me to confirm I was okay. I nodded, but what else was I going to say? I wasn’t okay. I was the furthest thing from okay, but all the talking in the world hadn’t scared him off.

He joined me, not lying beside me like I expected.

Tallus straddled my lap and planted a hand on either side of my head as he leaned over until our noses were mere centimeters apart. I couldn’t retreat. I was trapped. Surrounded. Panic vibrated my insides, but I tamped it down, telling myself it was an illusion. I wasn’t in danger. If I asked him to move, he would.

The heat of Tallus’s skin permeated the air. I smelled hints of the spicy cologne he’d used that morning, but mostly, it was his natural scent that lingered. One I craved. One that made my skin feel three sizes too small.

“You have one job,” he said, his breath ghosting my mouth. “Keep your eyes open. I want you present. And don’t forget to breathe. Today, I don’t care what you do with your hands, but if you want to touch me at any point,you are allowed, Diem. I want you to. Understand?”

I swallowed a thick lump and nodded.

“Now, glasses on or glasses off?”

“On.” I spat the word so fast I choked on it.

Tallus chuckled. “All right. But we can’t get too wild and adventurous. If I break these fucking frames or lenses again, I’m going to be pissed.”

The smile that followed was like staring into the midday sun. Big and bright and dangerous. If I didn’t avert my eyes, I would be blinded by the sheer magnitude of its aura, but I didn’t care. I’d rather be fucking destroyed by its beauty than look away from its brilliance.

For I was the darkness, and Tallus was the light.

The two of us couldn’t exist together. Didn’t he know? One would always chase the other away.

“Are you with me, Guns?” He used the tips of his fingers to stroke my cheek.

“Yes,” I croaked. “I’m with you.”

“Perfect.”

His lips followed the arch of my brow, his warm, moist exhales leaving an imprint I never wanted to erase. They moved along the outer edge of my eye socket and lingered on the scar bisecting my upper cheek. He kissed the silver line before continuing, and my stomach clenched. Memories surged, but I pushed them away. Now was not the time to remember. Now was not the time to venture into the past.

He bypassed my lips and headed down my body instead, taking the path his hands had done while we were upright over the mound of each pec and along the ridges of my abdomen.

It was a thousand times more invigorating. A thousand times harder to process.

He paused at my navel, licking the deep divot, lavishing attention to this strange area I’d never considered to be sexy until now. It turned out to be an ignition point that lit my blood on fire and tingled heat through my veins. If I was hard before, I was granite now, clenching my hands into fists, wanting to tell him how good it was but too ashamed to own those feelings and open my mouth.

I didn’t deserve this.

Why was he here?

What was he doing to me?

I didn’t realize I’d pinched my eyes closed until Tallus stopped the swirling ministrations and said, “Eyes open, Guns. We had a deal.”

I gasped—I’d been holding my breath too—and glanced at Tallus as he pushed my thighs apart and nestled himself between them.

He ran his hands over the hard stone slabs of my quads, over the canvas of tattoos that covered a different shame. On one thigh was a lone wolf. The beast had a torn ear and wore countless injuries from battle. His fur was matted and bloody, but he snarled at the viewer. Fearless. Alive. He symbolizedstrength and survival. He never gave up and lived to see another day. On the other thigh was a compass that dissolved into a flock of birds. It symbolized my freedom and reminded me to stay on track.

Long, straight silver lines lived under the ink, carefully masked but easy to find. Their origin wouldn’t be hard to mistake. Every one of them had been made intentionally. Every one of them had been done by the hand of a troubled teenager, desperate to stop the pain. Desperate for escape of any kind.

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