Page 34 of Trigger

“Thisdefeatist attitude will get you nowhere,” I said, touching his arm. “Don’t losehope now, okay?”

Hesaid nothing, but his shivers intensified.

Hopingthat he wouldn’t punch me, I slid my hand to his chest. He tensed up as Istarted to move my thumb in circles, rubbing the spot just above his heart.

“Mamanused to do this for me when I was a child. It always helped,” I said, smilingas more memories resurfaced. “She was a seamstress, you know? I remember… Shekept losing needles all the time. After I sat on one, I always checked twicebefore sitting down.”

Carterremained silent, but he seemed more relaxed now. His skin was warm despite thelow temperature in the bunker, his heartbeats steady and strong. His chest wasa wall of muscle, and I wondered if the rest of him was this hard. Probably,because God was a sadist, or he wouldn’t have entrapped me here with hismasterpiece.

“Justbreathe,” I said, as he drew a shaky breath. “Try not to think.”

Discreetly,I pulled my hips farther away from him because I had a massive hard-on, whichwouldn’t be easy to explain. After all, you could have morning wood so manytimes in the day. And since I was probably dying soon, I refused to lie tomyself. It wasn’t just heat and friction and confined space, or even a lack ofsex, for that matter. I was attracted to him. Hell, I was attracted to him fromthe moment I saw him, and it was a bummer.

“Ihave this rage thing,” Carter murmured, sniffling. “I get mad real fast. Itcomes abruptly, and I can’t control it.”

“Whendid those episodes start?” I asked him.

“WhenI was a child. My father hated it.”

“Itcan probably be treated, you know? Anger management is the thing these days.We’re all so damn mad all the time.”

“You’renot.”

“Iwould bury Boggs in the desert with only his head above ground,” I mused. “ThenI would leave him there. Does that sound like anger to you?”

Hechuckled without opening his eyes. “It does. You passed the test.”

Igrinned, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Did I?”

Hestill didn’t hit me, which wasn’t exactly a good thing because my stupid braintook it as encouragement. Then again, he probably needed a human touch justlike me… Who wouldn’t in our circumstances?

“Doyou feel better?” I asked him, relieved to see that his shaking hadstopped.

“Mm-hmm,”he murmured, sounding half-asleep. “Warm.”

Whenhis breathing slowed down, I ran my fingers through his hair.

“You’renot such a bad guy, Carter. Do you know that?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And Ilike your smile.”

“Mhm.”

“And Ilike you.”

A softsnore was his only reply.

Carter

When Iwoke up, every inch of my body hurt, including the throbbing wound on my head.I was so hungry that I couldn’t even feel hunger anymore. The water drippingthrough the bars helped with the thirst if we didn’t think about what we weredrinking since it sure as hell wasn’t the rain.

Ilooked at Thorsen, who was sleeping with his back turned to me. His colorfulshirt was dirty and wrinkled. His cargo pants hung low on his hips, revealingthe waistband of his boxers, which were incidentally yellow. The hair tie inhis bun looked crooked, so I took it off, freeing the long, blond strands.After that, I scooped them up and tied his hair into a ponytail—a neat one.

Ididn’t know what possessed me to do that. Maybe because it gave me a sense ofnormalcy. Maybe because I would never, ever do it outside, but here it seemedacceptable. Or because I felt alone, and I wanted to wake him up. In any case,it worked.

“Ididn’t peg you for a somnophiliac,” he said, making me chuckle.

---