Page 100 of Tortured Eyes
“Nice. I’m feeling the love.”
A smile breaks out on her face, enough of one that a small laugh follows it.
Beautiful. Always damn well is.
“You know, I don’t speak much these days. I used to. You grow up in a Cane household and communication is everything, but then life changed me. You don’t need to know the details, but Samuel saved me from the silence to a degree, made me talk again. I guess I’ve started remembering life outside of what I do because of him. He’s good at opening closets, letting the ghosts out of them.”
She nods beside me and starts walking, her body crossing mine to lead the way. I follow, some part of me wishing those arms of hers weren’t so tightly bound around herself. But I’m not forcing anything this time. She wants this then she’s going to have to give me some of that permission I'm after. Much as I want her anger, her passion, I want some of that other thing she hides from the world, too. It’s the same thing Samuel manages to get out of me. Love, care. Soft hands occasionally. Tears if needed. Trust and faith. I want to be the one she turns to, the one she relies on. I’ll protect her like that if she lets me, keep her safe and give her a base to come to when she needs me.
“All this is… You… It's all a mess,” she says. “I'm a mess. I can't think straight around you. I don't even know what I want,let alone what you want from me. What do you want?"
I watch her full lips move. Lush. I can remember them around my dick. Warm. My fingers itch to touch them, to wipe under those eyes and get rid of any tears, but she asked me a question. "I don't want anything unless you’re willing to give it all, Red," I eventually reply. "Not gonna work any other way."
“What?”
“Everything, Bryce. I’m done with meaningless. I could fuck the whole world and it wouldn’t hold a candle to what you’re capable of giving me.” She stops and stares at me, confusion all over her features. “Shocked? You should be. I am. But you’ll share me, and you should take that into consideration. He’s part of me. I won’t give him up because of what we are or become. I’m an asshole like that. Greedy.”
“Yes, you are. A collector, if you will.”
“Still not feeling the love. Two is barely a collection at all."
She snorts and shakes her head, her arms finally releasing their clutched grip. “So what, you want to meet up every now and then, fuck and release type thing?”
“No, I want to be the one thing you come to when you’re in need of me, and I want you to offer the same in return. No others. And I want what’s locked away inside you, that bit you won’t give anyone else. No hiding.”
“Figures. Sounds like you’re still after a plaything,” she says, walking again. “A toy you can take to bits just to find out how it works.” I stop her and bring her back to face me, my hands leaving her the second she stands the fuck still again.
“You know how easy it would be for me to play you again? Simple. I could have messed with you all over again the other night, walked out afterwards and not given a damn. Instead, I spent two hours trying to analyse why the fuck you meant something to me, and then the whole damn plane ride here letting go of you in my head so you could get on with your life without me in it. Yet here you are, in my face again.”
She opens her mouth. I hold my hand up. “Shut up. Listen. I’m trying real hard to tell you something about me. I play for fun. I fuck people over and laugh as they break into pieces. It’s who I’ve been, who I’ve had to be, and who I’ll continue to be going forward, but you… All that venom and anger of yours… it’s like a reflecting mirror. You cut through my crap somehow, enough so that I see myself when I look at you, and because of that I feel at home when I’m inside you, Bryce." Never thought of it like that before. I smile,searching for more in this head of mine. "It’s like we’re two parts of the same coin I’m tossing. Fuck, woman, I risked jail time for you. Put all this city and its needs behind me so you could have the life you deserved. You want to tell me again how I only want a plaything?” She frowns.
“I know that, but…”
“No. Still, shut up. I’m on a roll.”
She gapes and crosses her arms, getting herself all frustrated. Tough. I’m saying this before I chicken out. I turn in a circle, looking for what I’m trying to say, and catch a glimpse of Clearwater. “That softness in your hands the other night? The way you made me feel like you gave a damn while I was inside you? Only one other person has ever given me that feeling before. I don’t play with him. I’m not capable of it because he knows me too well. He’s up there now, waiting to find out if I’ve done the right thing and been honest. This between us now is as much for him as it is for you. And me maybe. I don’t know about that yet, but I do know I want you, need you. My life seems lacking without you in it for some reason. What is that?”
I search the sea and then look at her face. It still seems bemused, as if all this coming out of my mouth is some oddity she’s never known. Guess it is. Whatever. I’m saying it, and she’s hearing it. Honesty. She’s too damn beautiful for anything but that. “You know what I thought once? I thought you were a sharp corner I felt like cutting myself on again. Still do. Repeatedly. And then you went and gave me soft hands as well, added that into the mix to confuse the fuck out of me after killing someone to save my life. I don’t know if that was stupid of you or a goddamned miracle.”
I puff out a breath, not sure if I’ve finished or not, but then can’t think of anything else I want to say. I’m not ready for words of love yet. Or maybe I am, but I don’t feel the need to admit them until she gives me something in return. Still, I can't stop looking at her, waiting. Hoping.
“Is it my turn to speak yet?”
“Yes. Speak.”
“You’re talkative for once,” she says. What the hell does that mean? I wait, not happy about the words. They're not enough to give me a steer on where this is going. “It’s almost romantic. Better than me being just tolerable anyway. Keep trying.” A smile creeps up her lips. More of a goddamned smirk actually.
“No. I’m done talking. I’m waiting now.”
“What for?”
“Permission. I’m not doing anything else until you ask me to.”
“So," she says, drawing lines in the sand with her toes. "Just to be clear, you expect me to not sleep with anyone else, but accept you sleeping with Samuel, and I’m supposed to wait around until you feel like needing me?”
That’s not what I said, is it?
“But it’s okay for me to come chasing you down when I feel like needing you? You’ll drop everything. Including Samuel, if I want you.”
