Page 67 of Reaper and Ruin
A lack of air. No control.
Fear.
It took me a long time to answer. “Why would you bring that up now?”
Lynx eyed me. “Because you owe me a favor.”
The memories flashing behind my eyes changed. Lynx’s voice in my ears, telling the men to back the fuck off, that I wasn’t fresh meat there for the taking.
That I was his.
The bag disappeared, the claustrophobia and lack of air along with it.
I could breathe again.
But it clearly came with a cost.
I forced myself to nod. In the entire six years that Lynx and I had shared that cell, he’d never brought up that night. Never brought up that he’d saved me, if not my life, he’d at least saved me from men who would have happily held me down and used my body for their own pleasure.
“I owe you,” I agreed.
“Good.” Lynx tapped his fingers just below the area I was working on, drawing my attention back down to it so I could finish the design.
I bit my lip, forcing my concentration through my arm into my fingers. I didn’t want to think about why he was bringing that up again.
I finished the piece quickly, wiping it down, and then allowed him to study my work.
He gave a wry smile at the four claw marks I’d drawn on his skin. The same four claw marks he’d drawn on everything when we’d been inside, making sure everyone knew the property he’d claimed.
He pushed back in his chair, not bothering to let me wrap up the fresh new design. He moved to the mirror, standing in front of it, twisting his arms this way and that, checking out my work from every angle.
King watched on from across the room, and Lynx raised his arm to show him the small design.
“He did good!”
Relief spread across King’s face. He nodded and put his head down, going back to work on the massive chest piece he’d been chipping away at most of the day.
So he didn’t notice when Lynx clapped me on the shoulder and leaned down, so both of us could see the claw marks, his symbol of ownership. “I love it, Levi.” He breathed out slowly, his lips mere inches from the back of my neck and his mouth close enough to my ear that only I would hear. “Maybe you should have tattooed this on yourself.”
The rest of my shift was much less eventful. Dax didn’t return. I texted him though, and he did reply that he’d found no trace of Nyah anywhere and the cops were fucking useless. I didn’t know what else to say to him, so I just said goodnight, packed up my things, hoping I’d get some time to practice at home before my next shift, and then rode back to Violet’s place.
X’s theatrics filtered down the hallway from behind the closed door, even before I was near enough to knock.
Violet opened the door, her hair an adorable mess, and cat fur all over her sweater. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, but she smiled. “Hey, you. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
So was she. I put my hand to the side of her face, cat fur and all, fingertips on the back of her neck, and pulled her into me. “Hey, beautiful.”
I dropped my lips down to hers, kissing her pretty mouth. The knowledge I got to do this was the only thing that had gottenme through the afternoon, after Lynx had shown up, reminding me of promises I had never made but would be held to anyway.
I only stepped back when feral hissing caught my attention.
“Omelet! He’s doing it again! Harold! Stop it! Love me, damn you! Everyone else does!”
Violet crossed the room, scooping up the most horrifically unfortunate-looking cat I’d ever seen. “Well, what do you expect, X? You just called him a furry hemorrhoid.”
“Because he is!”
Violet rolled her eyes and brought the cat over to me. “Harold, this is Levi. Levi, Harold.”
