Page 73 of The Cartographer

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Anything else?”

“No, sir.”

“Thank you, Matthew.”

“You’re welcome, sir.”

I toy with my phone a little longer before there’s a hulking shadow in front of me. When I look up, it’s to a much calmer Allie than I left about an hour ago.

“How is Kendra?”

“Okay. Some smoke inhalation, first- and second-degree burns on her hands and her arms, but nothing life-threatening. Their house is toast, though.”

My jaw clenches involuntarily. My instinct to solve this problem too rises up in my throat.Let me take care of all of you. I’ll have Matthew find you all an apartment to stay in tonight, and we’ll get a nanny who can help Kendra with the kids because she’ll need it while she recovers. Admit you need me and give me your consent to help. I’ll wave my hand and everything will be fixed.

But I know Allie well enough to know none of that would be appreciated, so I will leave it the fuck alone as I’ve been told so many times to do. What I can do, though, is help him organize the logistics of handling this himself, so I have him sit next to me while we make some plans.

Allie excuses himself when the doctor comes to update him on Kendra once more and then goes to see her. After he’s satisfied she’s okay and has made arrangements to pick her up in the morning, she shoos him back to me with orders to go back to my place and check on the kids.

*

Walking through thedoor to my house, Allie still seems wired.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” His tone is short and clipped and I want to call him on his bullshit, but I can understand he’s buzzing like an over-adrenalized bee.

“What do you need right now?”

“Need?” he echoes, as if that’s the most absurd question in the world.

“Yes, need. What can I do for you?”

He blinks at me slowly as if he’s only half-heard me. I won’t repeat myself. I’ll wait. My patience is rewarded by an intent, thoughtful look, as if he’s inventorying his emotions and finding where he’s lacking. Still in crisis management mode.Let me do that for you.

Eventually, his eyes meet mine, his gaze hard, yet cautious. He doesn’t entirely trust me to give him what he wants, what he needs, and the thought makes me want to sever some part of my body and give it to him.I would do anything for you. Tell me how to stop your hurt and I’ll do it. It’s the best, most important thing I can do, my purpose on my earth. Let me fulfill it and, in so doing, provide you with whatever brand of succor you need.

“I need a distraction. I need to not think about all this right now.”

“I can do that. Pain is usually pretty good for focusing you.”

Matthew is still here, so we don’t need to worry about the kids waking. He’ll come find us if they do, but for now, I can give Hart something to take the edge off.

“Yeah,” he says, his eyes getting wider and sparkling with anticipatory glimmer. “Hurt me.”

It’ll be my pleasure.

*

I’ve been whalingon Allie for a good hour down in the dungeon, and he’s going to be sore. I didn’t bother asking if he’ll have the kids because I know he will. I’m also not bothering to go easy on him because he’d tell me not to. If he needs help over the next several days, Matthew will be at his disposal, and I know the harder I go on him, the better he’ll feel. I’m going to beat him to sleep. A strange lullaby I suppose, but it will work on him.

He’s resisting me, though, harder than usual. I don’t mind it most times—honestly, it makes my job more fun—but it’s piquing me now. This isn’t his run-of-the-mill pride and stubbornness. Those are entertaining to overcome, and I get a rush of heady self-satisfaction when I do. This is different. He’s trying to prove something he doesn’t have to prove. I get the feeling I could beat the living shit out of him all night long, and at the end, all I’d have would be a bruised and angry Allie. Not what I’m going for.

I need to break him. Really, really carefully. This enormous man who could snap me in two without a second thought, but wouldn’t. This is going to call for some finesse and not a small amount of skill. I’m going to be like those demolition experts who work in cities, dropping buildings with carefully placed explosives in a way that won’t do any damage to surrounding areas. Allie needs to be whole and functional for his family, so there are only so many walls I can bust open.

Good thing delicacy is my middle name. Also good is that Matthew may look insubstantial, but the man is like balsa wood—so much stronger than he appears. He can nearly keep up with me at my most manic, and that’s saying something. I’d talked to him while I was waiting for Allie at the hospital, and he knows he’s on deck for the next several days at least. He can deal with some of the mundane things, and I’m hoping Allie will be so concerned with other matters he won’t realize exactly how much Matthew’s helping.

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