Page 241 of Irreversible

While I’d love to play with the adrenaline rush, Idon’twant to play with PTSD.

Her body relaxes against mine, warm and pliant. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of the way she hands herself over to me so readily. She’s strong enough to get by on her own—hell, she could probably survive fucking Armageddon at this point—but when I ask her to trust me, she doesn’t hesitate.

No matter what I throw at her.

I plan to explore that with some of the supplies I picked up in town the other day while she was visiting her mother and the woman who owns the strip club. But that’s further down the agenda.

Bending her knees just enough to lower the groceries to the floor, she keeps the cup held out in front of her. “Can you set this somewhere safe?”

“There’s a spider in here, isn’t there?” I take it from her, barely able to make out a large brown lump through the plastic. “Shouldn’t they be hibernating?”

Disoriented from the blindfold, she stays still, giving a slight nod. “An employee at the store I stopped at found her hiding in the stockroom. I thought I’d get her to the sanctuary where she can be released in time for mating season later in the year.”

Shortly after we decided to get out of the city, a great deal came up on some acreage in a rural area in the foothills of Mt. Diablo, also known as a hotspot for tarantulas during the fall. Needless to say, Everly can’t wait for September.

I set the spider on the kitchen counter—because we’re a really strange couple—and return to the girl waiting blindfolded, at my mercy. Taking her hands in mine, I lead her to the wall separating the living and dining areas of the century-old house we closed on two weeks ago. Thick plaster and about fifty coats of paint divide the rooms, and after verifying that it wasn’t load bearing, I decided we didn’t need it. There’s a sledgehammer leaning there, since I’ve been working on renovations while she was gone.

I wanted to wait to do this with her.

“Should I be naked?” she asks, when I have her positioned.

It almost makes me laugh out loud; she knows me too well. And now, the thought of her naked tempts me to abandon my plans.But… “I hate myself a little for saying this, but not just yet. Probably isn’t the safest.”

“Okay…” She draws out the word, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Should I be worried?”

Situating myself behind her, I wrap one arm around her, pick the sledgehammer up with the opposite hand, and bite down on her shoulder. “What do you think?” When she grins, I kiss the bite marks. “I have something for you to hold. It’s heavy, so be ready.”

She snickers with innuendo.

“You’re worse than I am.” I loosen my grip around her waist long enough to smack her on the ass. Then I reach around her, place the handle in both her hands, and lift the blindfold.

She glances at the hammer, then turns her head to look at me, the question reflected in the downward pull of her eyebrows.

“I think we need a more open floor plan. Want to do some demolition?”

Her face lights up, snapping back to the tool. “Oh, hell yes.”

“That’s my girl.” I back off to the side by several feet, giving her room to wield the hammer. “Have at it.”

Lifting it as high as she can, she pauses, blinks—then takes a Herculean whack at the wall.

Once.

Twice.

Again.

Andagain.

The wall absorbs her fury with varying cracks, chips, and dents, each swing punctuated by an endearing little growl. It doesn’t take long to realize my mistake: Everly’s determined as hell, but at five foot two and barely over a hundred pounds, she’s not exactly built for busting through reinforced plaster. The house fights back and sweat begins to dot her hairline.

She doesn’t stop. Her expression is a storm of power, anger, and frustration—a relentless fusion that drives her to keep swinging, even as her arms tire and tears threaten. She’s too stubborn to quit, which is exactly why I step in, moving behind her, chest brushing her back. I cover her hands with mine, steadying her grip.

“Mind if I join you?” I whisper against her ear.

Breathing hard, she gives a small nod, fingers tightening around the handle.

I’ve got my own issues with walls.

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