Page 114 of Revenant

I wave my hand, dismissing it from my mind. Whatever.

Hicks is in charge of her training. My pookie is a fucking badass! Gunner is teaching her how to cook, and I’m the first in line to test her food…even if I have to trip the others and climb over the assholes to do it. Ellis talks tech or something with her, and it’s hard to gain her attention when she’s focused on her computer screens.

I might have more than once—accidentally, of course—cut the cord to her computer.

Oops, my bad.

I think he’s been sneaking off and teaching her how to swim too, but I’m never able to catch them in time to join. My rubber duckies and towel wait by the door, just in case.

My twin spends an hour every morning training with pookie, working on his ability to talk to ghosts. I usually avoid the house when they work, not wanting to draw the attention of the dead. I have enough trouble with the living, I don’t need the dead cursing me as well.

Jace often kidnaps pookie on their day together, taking her out on his bike. He’s teaching her how to ride. I try to join them, but they claim it’s their quiet time. I grimace at the thought of doing nothing for hours on end, not even speaking. It’s fucking unnatural, and a full body shudder passes through me at the torture she must endure for them.

My job is different from the others—the most important, of course—and I take my duties very seriously. I’m teaching my pookie how to live, showing her everything that she missed while growing up.

It’s a terrifying responsibility, one that takes all my fortitude to do right, but I gird my loins and do it.

Anything to make pookie happy.

Every once in a while, when my mania takes over, I worry my personality is too much, that I might scare her away, but my pookie is made of sterner stuff.

She loves me.

She even told me so herself, so it’s not something that I imagined.

I can only shake my head in wonder at how I managed to catch the attention of someone so perfect. I firmly believe it’s the power of my dick. I reach down and pat the good boy in my pants, and the fucker wags in reply, something that always happens when I think of my pookie.

Some days, I swear it’s my charm that won her over…then I shake my head.

Nah, it’s totally my dick.

It took years of practice to perfect my technique, and my pookie adores the many orgasms we give her. She says so herself.

Speaking of dick…

I left a note on her pillow this morning with today’s assignment. I’m teaching her how to play hide-and-seek, adult version. Shhh…it’s a secret. I want to surprise her.

It’s tragic that she never got to play any games when she was young, but I’m thrilled to be the one who gets to show her the world.

No one else appreciates it like we do.

I whistle under my breath as I skip out the door of our cabin in anticipation, thrilled to have my pookie alone for a few hours. It’s a rare afternoon of spring weather, and I’m determined to spend as much time outdoors before winter descends.

A pilfered basket of food and supplies swings from my arm, and I’m completely unrepentant that I stole it from the other fuckers. If they wanted to keep it a secret, then they shouldn’t have hidden it in the back of the closet in the garage, behind a row of jackets, and buried under a dozen snowsuits.

I snort, shaking my head in pity.

Amateurs.

As I head into the trees, I strip off my clothes one at a time, leaving a trail for pookie to follow. I’m too good at hiding and too impatient to wait for her to track me down. And even more convenient? I’ll be naked and waiting when she finds me.

What can be better?

Epilogue

JACESON

Ismirk as my brother disappears out the door with the basket I prepared for him under his arm, a skip to his step and a genuine smile on his face for the first time in years. I will be eternally grateful to Rue for changing his life.

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