Page 10 of Puck My Heart

So when Hux broke his pose and strode forward to liberate the ax from my fast blistering hands and shucked his jacket into my arms—the same jacket I’d been wearing during the in between years anyway—I didn’t object in the slightest.

“Hold onto that,” was all he said in that same quiet tone, before he lined up the first round and doubled the split log pile I had created in short order.

I hugged his jacket to my chest, leaning against the wood pile under the peaked roof our dads put up back when they first bought the place when we were all kids and began the age-old argument on how to store wood. The short version was that they decided to simply protect the stash. Last year Sol spent two days chopping wood on his own. Not that I blamed him. The place was quiet without Hux then.

With the amount of snow building up around the house—cabinwasn’t a word I would use for the multimillion dollar property, though the boys always did. Maybe it sounded more rustic to them—I doubted we would be seeing anyone else for at least another day or so. My reception was still shit, and the clouds overhead hadn’t thinned.

Not that I minded terribly, I just didn’t want to embarrass the crap out of myself a second time with Hux. Having Solace and Hallie around later would break up the chances of him seeing me fall apart and ruin my daydream that the perfect relationship actually could exist, even if I never could risk my heart on him.

Because, broken.

That was what Peter left behind. The girl he had molded me into, a fractured mess of who I thought I was versus who he needed a partner to be for him to suck the life away from me. The in between years that stole my confidence and remolded my hopes and dreams weren’t the ones I flourished in.

Hux never strayed far from my thoughts the moment I realised Peter wasn’t who I expected. This weekend had been the highlight of my last months and now…I was running mostly on caffeine and bravado at this point.

“Is this enough?” Hux yanked me out of my thoughts, pointing the ax to the pile of split wood that had tripled since I last paid much attention.

“That looks amazing. And it would have taken me all morning. Not that I mind the exercise, but you saved me a few calluses.” I waggled my free hand at him.

Hux sent me a grin. “Can’t have you ruining your hands. I remember the sort of art you made.”

My humor faded. “I haven’t painted in years.”

“Ah.” Hux set the ax by the pile and collected a stack of logs. “Pity. I always loved that one you did of the pond when it froze over. Where do you want these?”

My brain jammed. “I didn’t think you’d remember.”Anything good about this place.I kept my mouth shut and my eyes on the log pile, unable to face him. “Uh– near the downstairs fireplace, maybe? Please,” I added belatedly, but Hux had already turned away to head back inside.

“No problem.”

I collected my much smaller pile and made my way back into the house, setting the split logs beside the fireplace and lining the uneven rounds up neatly. By the time Hux transported the rest inside I had pulled at least three splinters out of my fingers and was ready for a coffee top up.

“How do you drink that much?” He was watching me again when I pivoted on my knees after placing the last log on my not so little pyramid with a smallta-daaflourish.

“It’s an acquired skill. My bladder is still in training.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Coffee just never affected me the way it does other people. I like the heat, I guess. It stops my throat from getting sore.” The moment the words were out of my mouth, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. I snapped my lips shut, but Hux registered my words, and his eyes narrowed.

“Show me.”

Before I could argue he knelt before me, his hands framing my throat gently, though he didn’t actually make contact. Just waited, and that kinda…hurt with the sweetness of the gesture.Because he was waiting for me to grant him permission, I was so used to the man I’d trusted—who I had given trust to in error—taking what he wanted regardless of my needs.

“Hux—” I whispered, but I couldn’t make anything else come out. The same thing that happened in the kitchen started again, only this time I was already on the floor and no sharp, broken edges surrounded me.

Only broken bits of myself.

“I want to know.” That quiet voice of his must be gold in the locker room, or wherever in the hell he employed it. Because it did strange things to my stomach and other places. I nodded my defeat, dropping my hands to my knees, and let him do whatever he wanted.

That didn’t prevent the tears from welling, though I was grateful when they didn’t immediately fall.

Rough fingertips brushed the side of my throat. “One, two, three–” That last came out on a growl, and his thumb and forefinger made a collar around my throat as Hux pulled me gently forward into the flickering light from the new fire he set.

I didn’t fight him. This was Hux. I knew him. He wouldn’t hurt me, and the only thing on display here was my shame. He seemed dead set on seeing what he wanted to see so…who was I to stop him? After this, the pipedream of that perfect relationship would puff into nothingness, anyway.

“Four— fuck me,” he muttered, his voice tight with barely restrained violence.

I knew that tone. It mirrored my brother’s when he was about to do something truly stupid. Hux’s thumb brushed over my pulse point as he stared at my skin, and I forgot how to breathe.

“What are you doing?”

Hux paused and raised his head to meet my eyes. His burned dark and furious. I rocked backward but he didn’t let me, pullingme into him until we were so close that when he spoke, his breath brushed my lips. “I’m counting how many marks are against Peter’s name so that when I meet him, I know exactly what to carve out of his flesh.”

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