Page 175 of Stop and Seek
Adrenaline surged through his limbs, and suddenly his body wasmoving. Swinging again. And again. And again.
The second hit was wetter. Softer. The third cracked something else—the floor, maybe bone—he couldn’t tell. By the fourth, his whole body screamed with effort. His arms burned. His shoulders locked. Blood slicked the gloves, made the handle slippery, but he kept going. Kept slamming the crowbar down until he couldn’t even feel his fingers anymore.
The world turned into jerking frames of motion—up, down, red, black, blur—
Arms. Around his middle. Tight.
Noah.
Noah pulling him back.
“Baby—baby—stop,” Noah whispered, voice soft. He pressed kisses into the back of Theo’s head. “You can stop. There’s nothing left.”
Theo’s arms dropped.
He was shaking, soaked in sweat, but freezing.
Everything looked red. The floor, the walls, the gloves. The lenses of his glasses were tinted with blood. It filtered the world, turned everything wrong, dreamlike. He touched them, dumbly, and his fingers came away sticky. Wet.
He went to wipe the glasses on his shirt—and the crowbar slipped from his grip, clattered to the ground with a dullthunk.
He jumped.
Hard.
“You’re okay,” Noah murmured. “I have you.”
Was he?
This wasn’t what heexpected.
He wasn’t jittery and rabid.
He wasstill. For the first time in what felt like years.
He bit his lip until it almost bled just to keep his teeth from chattering. He was trembling all over, but not from panic.
It was release.
Like someone had reached inside his ribcage and twisted, yanked something loose, and suddenly there wasspace. He could breathe again. Couldthink.
“C’mon, Theo,” Noah whispered, breath hot against his ear. “Don’t go mute on me. I don’t know sign language.”
“Y-yeah. Sorry. I’m—” Theo stopped. Words felt impossible, but he finally choked them out. “I’m good.”
Gooddidn’t even touch it.
Good was a word people threw around when things were just okay. When the day went by and he hadn’t decided to off himself. When he remembered to buy coffee and run the dishwasher.
This wasn’tgood.
He was lightheaded and raw, but he’d never felt morehimself.
Better than sex. Better than drugs.
He felt fuckingamazing.
Noah’s arms stayed around him—strong and steady. Theo leaned into it, resting his weight there, breathing him in. Everything smelled like blood and cologne, citrus and death—but for the first time, he didn’tcare. He didn’t recoil. It was just another scent in the room, something familiar.
