Page 29 of Beautifully Ruined
He knows I’m there before he looks at me. It’s in the stillness of him, in the vibrating waiting that fills the air.
“Are you going to say something or just hover?” His voice is so The Ghost, but lighter, less dark, but so similar I really can’t believe I never picked it up. The humor that runs through it is all pure Cade.
“I know you and The Ghost are the same person, but sometimes…” I stop, slip closer to him, and do what he accused me of, hover about a chair.
His gaze cuts to me.
I shrug. “I guess I forget. And I was just thinking, ‘how did I not know when you started to speak to me as Ghost? How did I not know you’re also Cade?’”
“Skill?” His smile flashes.
“Don’t…” I sit, then look at him.
He’s still focused on his computer.
“Cade?”
“Yeah?”
“Look at me. Please.”
He does, and I scoot my chair closer, pulling off his glasses.
He doesn’t look like death took a bite from him anymore. He’s more bruised today, but with the blood washed away and the cuts over his right eye butterflied, he looks better than I expected.
And I breathe out a sigh of relief.
He smirks. “Here I thought you might be hoping I’d be suffering more.”
“Are you?”
He laughs and winces. “Only when I breathe and laugh.” But he sobers. “I’m good. They knew what they were doing. Maximum pain on certain places to make it feel like I was dying but…”
He takes my face in his hands. “It was bad, really bad, but I’m going to be okay.” Then he lets me go. “I don’t know if that’s something good or bad, as far as you’re concerned. You were fucking ready to add your own layer of pain last night.”
I bite my lip, then grab his hand and kiss his palm. “I’m kind of embarrassed.”
“Why?”
“Because I blamed you.”
“That’s okay,” he says softly.
But I shake my head. “It’s not. Because Idon’tblame you, not really. Not when I think about it and have had some sleep. I threw a tantrum and?—”
“Anyone would, Vi.”
I smile. “That, and how you were so nice, so good with me.” I swallow, the smile fading. “How you handled me made me just like you more.”
“Good to know. But you’re giving me ammunition.”
“You’d never use it.”
“Fuck, no, I wouldn’t. Unless it was for X-rated fun. Then all bets are off.”
I know I should laugh, he’s being funny, but a tendril of need and desire burns inside, flaring bright. “Noted.”
His finger streaks lightly along my hot cheek. “How are you feeling?”
