Page 75 of Redemption
It’s out of my hands.
With bittersweet eyes, Darius turns to me. “Looks like we’re gonna have to postpone that rescue mission by a day or so.”
I’m saddened by the fact that there’s nothing we can do apart from embarking on a suicide mission just to get out from the safehouse, but, as I place a hand under me and push myself up, another cramp hits me. And I feel... like I’m fucking...dying.
With all the stress of the past few months—Cole getting torn up by the horde at the estate, the subsequent potential for him to transition, the race to save him, his recovery, the journey to Tryon Palace where we barely escaped another horde just outside of Jacksonville—my cycle has been way off. If it weren’t for the fact that I have an IUD, I would have sworn one of the guys knocked me up, which, in these times, would’ve been fucking awful. Thankfully, that’s not the case; I was justreallylate, and Mother Nature decided to drop a personalized bomb on me at the most inopportune moment and in the most abrupt way possible.
I don’t think I’ve had cramps this awful in years.
Without a word, Darius rises to his feet once again and heads back to his pack. Unlike before, however, there are no smiles when he returns. Instead, he fluffs up the pillows behindme and urges me to lie back down on them. Happy to not be upright anymore, I release a sigh and settle in. I fully expect him to return to his seat at the edge of the bed, but he lingers, hovering over me with furrowed brows and a tightly clenched jaw. A second later, he reaches for the hem of my shirt, lifting it slightly. My hands immediately land on top of his, trying to stop him, but his eyebrow lifts when our eyes meet. A silent request for me to listen and trust him.
Reluctantly skeptical, I lift my hands from his, giving him the consent he needs in order for him to do what he thinks he must. Seeing my approval, he lifts his other hand and places it palm-side down on my belly. A sudden warmth spreads across my skin, instantly settling the ache within. Upon seeing my obvious relief, Darius smiles softly and lifts his hand, allowing me to look down and find a single-use hand warmer positioned right where it hurts.
Like he knew exactly what I needed and where I needed it.
A bottle of water is placed at my side next, along with two tabs of painkillers in my palm. Without objection, I swallow the pills and gulp down the water, not realizing just how thirsty I was until that very moment.
He, then, lifts a final item, placing it just above the heat pack.
“It’s my last one, so don’t wolf it down in one bite, ok?” he whispers knowingly. My gaze drops as I lift the whoopie pie and press my lips together, trying but failing to conceal the smile the simple act of kindness brings out.
We’re surrounded by flesh-eating zombies, and he’s making sure I’m not only safe and secure within the shelter we’ve decided to hide in, but he’s also making sure I’mcomfortable. That I’m fed and hydrated and not having to worry about being in pain. Like taking care of me is the most important thing in the world for him.
He used to do this for me back when...
No...
No, no, no, no, no.
I will not look up and smile back at his dopey, all-knowingly confident face. Especially not when I know he has that tantalizing little dimple that has a criminal history of making my knees weak. Not gonna happen. I refuse to do it.
I totally did.
And like it had a fucking tractor beam aimed right for me, there was that dimple that turned my body to mush. I could literally feel the stress leave my shoulders as his grin widened, recognizing the effect he had on me even after all this time.
Son of a bitch. This cannot be happening. Icannotlet this happen. I already have three guys pining for me twenty-four-seven. With my female human anatomy only providing me three holes, Iliterallydo not have any more room to allow Dare to wiggle his way back into my life, even if the rest of my body seems to think otherwise.
“Ahem...,”Me-two interrupts my inner turmoil. She’s sitting on the floor, legs tucked under her with her back against the wall, and has gone complete Disney Princess Mode. But it’s no princess I’ve ever seen.
Nineties gear completely discarded, she’s now decked out in a ridiculous, overly floofy hot pink ball gown complete with a matching tiara that’s been enhanced with spikes of cotton candy. For some reason, other than to fuck with my head even further, she’s cradling a possum in her arms. It might be dead... mightnot be. With its tongue currently hanging loosely from its mouth and a possible case of rigor mortis setting in, I have no idea. Oh, and did I mention there are moths dancing around her head? Yeah, moths...notbutterflies. She’s also replaced her replica of my baseball bat with a crossbow and has banners all around saying things like, “Let the past go!”, “He crossed the horizon to find you!”, “Kiss the boy!”, and, the absolute cherry on top, “I’d let him wreck it!”
She licks her lips and pulls a large, metal, stick-like pointer out from (probably) her ass and points it to a hand-drawn chart that materializes next to her. “According to numerous instances found courtesy of the adult entertainment industry,”she smacks the chart with her stick, indicating to the crude stick figures she’s created of various sexual positions,“the female body can absolutely take more than three. Always remember what Jax used to say, ‘Proper planning prevents poor performance.’ And, in this case, so does lube.” She smiles as if she just gave the most important presentation of her life before the entire thing vanishes in a cloud of dust with a dramaticpoof. Clasping her palms together at her chest, she sighs whimsically at Darius’ back, the moths turning into little floating hearts as she smiles hopelessly at him.
I, on the other hand, am at a loss for words.
Me-two is a figment of my imagination. Unreal, but still a manifestation of what’s inside of me. Which means...
Oh, Fuck....
It’s not possible, though. I couldn’t do that to the guys. Or even think to ask it of them. Regardless of our past or any lingering feelings I might have unearthed since we reunited, I’ve moved on. And now I have to live with that decision. A tear lingers at the edge of my lash, refusing to fall for him as Ionce did. But my voice cracks, confirming my sentiment. “Thank you.”
“Anytime, Mi Alma.” His large hand falls to my thigh, squeezing once reassuringly before motioning to Sadie. “Alright, puppy dog. Let’s see what we can do about you and what I can only assume is a bladder that’s about to explode.”
It’s surprising, considering her initial reaction to Darius was to attack him, but she quietly comes to stand on all fours and follows him off the bed and to the bathroom, leaving me in a heaping pile of pillows, along with a heat compress and medication to alleviate my aches and pains, one of my favorite chocolate treats, and a small modicum of peace despite the distressing absence of my guys and the enduring wall of death lurking just outside.
It's also surprising that I didn’t correct him on his choice of name for me. That I let him call meMi Alma.
It’s then, as I silently reflect and take it all in, that I realize I’m totally, absolutely, unequivocally screwed.
