Page 48 of A Breath of Life
“Tallus—”
“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Diem.”
He ground his teeth and schooled his features.
Before he could spit nails and we ended up at each other’s throats again, I held up my hands in a peace offering, leveling my tone. “Look. I don’t want to argue. You’re clearly upset this morning, and your lack of communication is driving me up a tree, but let’s be adults. Can we be adults?”
His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared.
“I’ll take that as a yes. Tell me this. AmIin danger?”
I expected a growl or for him to tell me to shut up and do as I was told, but I didn’t get any of that.
Diem’s shoulders came down as a divot appeared between his brows. For a long time, he stared at the pouch tied to his wrist, then, quietly, he mumbled, “I don’t know. Maybe.”
A chill tickled my spine and tingled over my scalp. Had the men who attacked him threatened me? What wasn’t he explaining? Why did it feel like he was preparing for war?
“Are you saying I’m not safe inside the headquarters building of thepolicedepartment? I’m not trying to sass or contradict you, but… really?”
Diem processed the question on a Diem level, taking his time as though flipping it over and turning it inside out to be sure of his answer before speaking it. “Maybe… Probably.” He nodded, but I got the sense he was convincing himself more than anything.
“Then drop me off and pick me up this afternoon if you’re worried. If you hang around all day looking like the new age reincarnation of Genghis Khan, it could raise questions.”
He glanced down at himself, the divot deepening. “I can’t leave you on your own.”
“I’m a big boy.” Tilting Diem’s chin, I stroked a gentle hand over his unshaven cheek, mindful of his injuries. “You don’t want to be glued to my side all day. We’re apt to kill each other at this rate. Besides, you hate being anywhere near the police department, and we both know how you feel about answering questions for nosy detectives.”
He huff-grunted an affirmation. Inarticulate responses used to infuriate me, but a spark of hope filled my chest. A grunt was Normal Diem communication, and I would take Normal Diem back in a heartbeat as opposed to this stranger who had come home to me the previous night.
A complex series of emotions crossed his face before he said, “Don’t be mad at me. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
His words pierced my heart. I didn’t remove my hand from his face and stroked my thumb under an inflamed eye as though I could smudge the bruise or soothe the ache. He didn’t fight or pull back. Affection and communication had been sorely lacking that morning, and I wanted Diem to look at me without the fiery depths of hell burning from his core.
I wanted to be the balm that calmed his temper.
With the gentle caress, the storms passed, leaving overcast skies in their wake. Their absence only intensified Diem’s sorrowful expression.
“I’m not mad. Frustrated, but in my defense, you’ve walled yourself off, and I don’t know why. We do better when we talk to each other.”
“I know.” He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t go out of my way to make you angry, Tallus. It’s… Please… don’t ask questions. Not yet. Not now.”
“You’re scaring me, D. What aren’t you saying?”
“I can’t talk about it. Please, Tallus. Listen for once.”
“Okay. I’ll let it go.” I didn’t want to, but I knew without trying that if I pushed, he would push back, and we would end up at odds again. That was what happened when two bullheaded men were in a relationship. They clashed horns with far too much ease. I would take the tentative truce over another battle.
Steering the conversation out of the damnable pit we kept falling into, I drew his face to my level and brushed a delicate kiss over his swollen lip.
A soft, strangled noise escaped him. “More,” he rasped.
I traced the wound with the tip of my tongue, pressing cautiously forward.
Diem growled and crashed his mouth against mine with urgency and desperation. I couldn’t get playful aggression in the bedroom, but I could always get it in a kiss.
Diem dominated my mouth and owned me with his possessive tongue. Sucking, nipping, branding me. The man went out of his way to imprint himself onto my soul, and I let him.
Forgiveness always tasted like bliss.
