Page 35 of Make Them Bleed
We stand there too long for people who are supposed to be ghosts. Render eventually clears his throat. “Not to break the cinematic moment, but if we walk out the front we’ll hit a checkpoint.”
“Service elevator to the garage,” Knight suggests. “I clocked the route.”
We take the path he maps, unglamorous and lifesaving. In the garage’s dim belly, our cars wait like faithful steeds. Before we split, Juno turns to the squad—four ridiculous presidents and one faceless Ghostface—and raises her chin.
“Thank you,” she says. “For tonight. For everything.” She looks at me last. “Ghosts, huh?”
“Worked,” I say.
They pile into Ozzy’s car. Engines turn. The team peels away and I stand with Juno once they’re all gone.
Render slipped me his keys earlier, letting me know I should take Juno home alone.
Juno and I pile into Render’s sedan, and ride in silence toward the river. The city is softer here, the streets running out of steam before they hit the water. When we slip into the shadowed lot at her apartment, she doesn’t immediately reach for her door.
“Hoover?” she asks, voice smaller than it’s been all night.
“Yeah.”
“I think I’m…falling apart and falling forward at the same time.”
The world goes quiet enough to hear our own breathing. Behind the mask, I close my eyes.
“I know,” I say. “I’m right there too.”
She opens her car door. Her hand lifts, hovers, then lands lightly on the edge of the mask where the jaw would be. Slowly, like asking permission, she traces the curve with her fingertip.
“Thank you for not letting me do this alone,” she whispers. “Even though you don’t have to.”
I catch her wrist before I do something reckless like lift the mask an inch and kiss her like we both want. My thumb settles over her pounding pulse. I speak to that rhythm.
“You’ll never be alone. Not as long as I’m around.” I open my own door and step out at the same time she steps out.
I meet her on her side of the car, wanting to walk her to her front door.
She leans her head back against the car, closing her eyes as her breath comes out in a tiny pant. Her slender neck calls to me, and like a slave, I reach up, touching her. My fingers glide over her skin, and I do something reckless.
I remove my glove, letting my fingers glide over her soft skin. “Keep your eyes closed,” I tell her, not wanting her to recognize my hand, or something crazy like that.
I’m being greedy, taking what’snotmine, but I don’t care. It’s as if this mask has made me braver than I’ve ever been before. For years I’ve wanted to touch Juno like this, but I’ve never had the courage.
Well, not now.
Now I’m taking what I want.
She keeps her eyes closed, her breathing picking up speed slightly as I press against her pulse point. It’s almost like she’s giving me permission to keep going.
So, I do.
I glide my hand down between the valley of her breast, sneaking beneath her hoodie to run my fingers over her t-shirt. She sucks in a breath, and I keep going.
“I can feel your heart beating just for me,” I whisper, and the sound of the modulator makes the words come out all husky and low.
“It is,” she whispers, running her straight white teeth over her bottom lip.
I’d give anything to kiss her. To feel her lips pressed against mine, but that’s a line I’m not ready to cross. If ever.
My hand continues the trek across her breast, squeezing lightly, wishing I could be underneath her shirt and bra, but thankful I even get to touch her this way at all.
