Page 39 of Twisted

He gripped her good ankle, his eyes bouncing up to meet hers.

“Gonna let me take care of ya?”

Her cheeks ruddy, she nodded, clutching her towel tighter.

“Good, baby doll.”

He set to work, fishing out a few splinters as she kept tensely silent—not one to voice her pain no matter how bad. After finishing that foot and rubbing it in calamine to ease the sting of nettle, he pulled one of his wool hunting socks over her tiny appendage. Frowning at the swell of her other ankle, he worried about a more extensive injury.

Propping it on his thigh, she hissed and jerked away, but his strong fingers held her calf in place.

“Sorry, babe. ’S what ya get for runnin’,” he teased, and she threw him a vehement glare. Testing her ankle, prodding along the joint, he could feel it was only sprained, and she’d already shown she could bear some weight. After checking for splinters and dousing her in more calamine, he fastened a small splint and bandaged her up good and tight.

“Lay back,” he commanded, and the air in the room shifted; she was heated, livid with him for the mark she now bore, but she was too tired to make much of a fuss. She obeyed, and his fingers skimmed over the bright red marking. It was deep enough to scar, as was the point, and so he bent in and pressed a lingering kiss to it, her breath hitching as he did so, before he covered it with Neosporin and a bandage.

“Why’d ya brand me?” she whispered, her voice thick with tears. Sitting up on his knees, he met her eyes.

“‘Cause you’re mine, baby doll. You’re mine, and anyone sees that mark knows it.”

Her brows puckered.

“What—”

“It makes ya safe, Mais, look,” he explained, standing, pointing to his own shoulder where a burned brand, much larger, resided. Her eyes widened, flashing up to his.

“What does it mean, Jaeger? Is…is this like a fuckin’ cult?” she asked, voice rising in her worry. Chuckling, he dropped back down to his knees as she sat forward, and he shook his head.

“Nah, baby. Just who I work for. You ain’t allowed to ask about that, ya hear?” he said, turning serious and commanding. She gulped. “Dangerous, dangerous people have this mark, but also their loved ones, so if anyone thinks to fuck with us by hurtin’ our women, kids, family—then they know the wrath that will come down on ‘em.”

It was the greatest gift he could have ever given her. It hadn’t been approved through Hades or Rancho, though, so he knew there was a big fucking possibility this would all backfire, but he couldn’t think on that right now. The road ahead for them was paved with danger from all sides, and so he had to simply focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

She blinked a few times, absorbing before she spoke.

“Who are you, Jaeger?”

He flashed her a boyish grin.

“I’m the monster in your closet, baby. The one that keeps all the other ones away.”

She was silent, then, and her eyes grew tight as the towel around her little body. He checked over her knees, her scraped palms and cheek, then took her towel and rubbed it all over her head as she let out a laugh. Tossing it aside with a grin, he stood and retrieved her a shirt and himself a pair of shorts. Once dressed and all patched up, he handed her the glass of water and pain pills. She took them, drinking the entire glass as her eyes drooped.

“Get cozy, babe,” he urged, pulling back the blankets for her. Silent still, though more frozen in her motions, she obeyed and climbed in and under the covers on what he now thought of as her side of the bed. He checked all the locks, keeping only his bedroom window open before he flicked off the lights and bathed them in the deep darkness of the latest parts of the night.

He wasn’t afraid of the dark, or the woods, or anything, really. But as he stared down at Maisie, curled up in a ball on her side and already fast asleep, a new sort of fear pooled in his gut. The kind that meant you loved something more than yourself, the kind that meant your downfall was now written in the depths of those eyes. He feared nothing in this world—except losing her.

Morning bled into afternoon, the humidity rising and reaching its fever pitch, but that wasn’t what awoke Jaeger. A buzzing beneath his ribs did, and his hand dove between mattress and box spring to retrieve his burner phone from its shitty hiding place. Sparing a quick glance at a sprawled, snoring Maisie, covered in golden sunshine, he smirked and padded out into the living room. His mouth was dry, but he ignored it with a yawn and answered.

“Sup, Ranch.”

“How kind of you to answer, dipshit.”

Jaeger chuckled, the sound rasping through his sleepiness.

“Got a job, kid.”

Leaning against the support beam Maisie had been cuffed to just the day before, Jaeger felt his mood sour. The last thing he needed was a job; he had so much to do still regarding his woman, and had yet to fully allow her confession to seep in. With a growl, he dragged his hand through his tangly hair.

“When?”

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