Page 53 of Light As A Feather
Sudden stillness takes hold of his limbs, and everything stops. You could hear a pin drop. After a few seconds, Jayden collapses in his lap, his forehead resting against Hawthorne’s, who is still unconscious, with his hands limp at his sides.
“Come back. You can’t leave me here alone. You promised it was going to be okay. It better fucking be okay.” He wipes theperspiration from Hawthorne’s forehead with the bottom of his shirt.
The first movement starts with a twitch of his fingers, then between his shoulder blades. He blinks his eyes open slowly, like waking from a dream.
A groan escapes him, and he reaches for the side of his face, but Jayden stops him from touching the open wound.
“Don’t.” His voice is unsteady and rasping. “Don’t say anything. We need to get this looked at.”
In response, Hawthorne grabs at Jayden’s arms, fingers digging into the lean muscle. His entire body shakes—whether it’s from adrenaline or pain, I can’t be sure.
“Fucking hell.”Jayden’s hand cups his other cheek, then drops his head against Hawthorne’s chest. I can’t even be angry because I’m just unbelievably grateful that he wasn’t alone in that moment. Hawthorne winces but remains silent as he palms the back of Jayden’s neck, holding him close, not in a romantic way, but in an apology and comfort. His chest moves in uneven but full breaths while Jayden’s body heaves in jerky moments as they sit there like that for several minutes.
“You really fucking scared me,” Jayden finally says as he gets up. “We’re never doing this shit again. You hear me?”
Hawthorne holds his gaze, something unspoken passing between them before he nods and stands on slightly unsteady feet.
“Come on, we need to get you patched up, that’s going to be a gnarly one to heal,” he assesses through a grimace before the two men walk off screen.
Slamming the laptop shut, my body aches with the aftermath of all the tension that’s been coiled tightly within me.
“Holy fucking shit.” My hands shake and my heart hammers as I try to process what I just watched.
I don’t know how long I sit there, but I jolt at the slam of a door downstairs.
“Sol, where are you?” Hawthorne’s voice infuses warmth back into the house, but it also unleashes something within me.
Ifeel like a teenager again as I run up the stairs to find Sol—heart racing, cheeks hurting from how wide I’m smiling, body electric with need. That is, until I get to the top of the stairs and a cloud of dread pours down upon me.
Worry brims in Sol’s eyes, ready to spill over.
“What happened?” I rush to her, searching for any sign of injury in a quick assessment. My stomach lurches when she holds up a flash drive.
“Where did you get that?”
“I think I’m the one who should be asking questions. What the hell were you thinking?” Her anger and disappointment are the product of a fear I understand too well. “And to think, you were the one demanding answers from me.” One palm presses against my chest, but the other cups my cheek, her thumb stroking the long scar there. “What were you doing? How could you open yourself up like that when you have no idea what’s out there?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I know exactly what’s out there,” I huff with frustration. “All I cared about was finding him, making him pay.”
“You could have gotten yourself killed.” Her hand balls into a fist, nails digging into the black fabric of my shirt.
“I’m still here.” I stroke her hair while my arm wraps around her waist and pulls her against my chest. “I’m not going anywhere. You never have to worry about that.”
“I want to believe that, but hope has stabbed a knife in my back for the last time.” She pulls away, revealing a slight dampness on my shirt. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that I would do anything to get you back.”
She shakes her head at me and turns on her heel, making a beeline for my office. Of course, I follow. Without hesitation, she sits her beautiful ass in my chair, gets comfortable, and steeples her fingers. Her intent is clear: she wants to know every dark and difficult detail.
I would never deny her. Sol is strong; she can handle the grim reality even if she doesn’t like it. After all, she’s the one who left me to my own devices. What’s a desperate man to do?
Instead of taking a seat like she expects me to, I stride over to the bar cart in the corner and pour us glasses of water from the crystal decanter. Drinking mine quickly, I buy myself a few more seconds to organize my thoughts.
“How many videos did you watch?” I ask as I reach around her and set her glass on the desk.
“Enough to know that you’ve become much more familiar with the ways of the dead than when we were together.”
Her words are an electric shock that elicits an instant response. “We’vealwaysbeen together. Always will be.” Leaning down, I capture her jaw with precise care, my thumb coaxing a soothing trail along her neck while she stares up at me. “Whatever has happened in the years we’ve been separated,I don’t care. But don’t think for one second that there was or will be a single moment in our lives and beyond that you won’t be mine. We are inevitable, My Omen.”
