Page 34 of Fire
“Yes, angry,” he hisses, pulling out of my grasp and whirling around at me. “I’m so fucking angry at the men who are so full of hate and fear that they burn people’s houses down, plot to bend the world to their sick ideals, hurt men like Cyrus and Cash, and kill Barry.”
He starts pacing the room. “I keep thinking I can burn out the anger with my words. Make the world right again, but I ran out of words, and I’m still so goddamned angry.”
I come up behind him and wrap my arms around him in a move that feels like pure instinct. His heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s overtired, traumatized, and needs to calm down for his own well-being.
“I think I know something that will help,” I whisper into his ear.
He tenses in my arms. “No drugs. I hate how they make me feel.”
“No drugs,” I promise. “We’re just going to breathe together. Close your eyes and relax your body into mine.” He continues to stand stiffly against me, but then slowly, I feel his body melt into mine.
“Good,” I say as I lower my right arm and slide it beneath his t-shirt onto the soft skin of his stomach just above his belly button.
His stomach muscles flutter under my touch, but I keep my hand in place, letting him get used to the weight of my hand there. Then I place my left hand on his chest and pause till he gets acclimated to my hand clasped over his heart.
“Let your breath flow through your chest and deep down into your belly,” I tell him, letting the words vibrate gently in his ear.
I can feel the air filling his stomach. “More,” I encourage. “Now, slowly, breathe in through your nose.” I silently count to five as he follows my command. “Now, slowly breathe out.” I count out his exhale. “You did great,” I tell him, knowing how well he responds to praise. “Now, let’s do it again.”
I talk him through the simple breathing technique again and again until I feel his heartbeat slowing, the back of his head nestling into my shoulder, and his body begins swaying into me because he’s half unconscious.
“Time for bed,” I say. Evan murmurs something nonsensical in response as I bend down, scoop him into my arms, lay him on my bed, and cover him with a heavy blanket. Looking down to make sure he’s settled comfortably, I’m amazed at the possessive thrill running through me at seeing him lying there, safe in my bed.
I turn to go, but Evan’s hand shoots out and grabs mine in a strong grip. “Don’t go.”
“I’ll be sitting at the table keeping watch,” I assure him. “I’ll keep you safe.”
“I need you.”
Evan was right when he said words were his weapons. His “I need you”hit me straight in the heart. I have a whole arsenal under the floorboards, but all those weapons are useless compared to his dangerous use of three little words.
“Just for tonight,” I say, wondering if it’s an oath or a lie as I slip off my boots, lift the blankets, get under the covers, and lay my head on the pillow.
“Hold me.” He whispers the request, but it goes off like a bomb in my head. “Please.”
I move over and wrap him in my arms. Evan sighs, settles his head back on his pillow, and immediately falls into sleep while I lay there breathing in the scent of him like it’s oxygen and wondering if I’m ever going to let him go.
Chapter 13
Evan
I wake up searching for the warmth of Luca’s arms but only find the pillow he used the night before.
Was it only the night before?It feels like I’ve slept for days. All I really remember is begging Luca to hold me, feeling his strong arms go around me, and then falling asleep.
I stretch, and with a dreamy smile, I wish I’d woke up to him holding me like that.
Who in the fuck do you think you are, Evan? Because you're acting like a character in one of the old Doris Day musicals your grandma liked to watch when you’re more suited to being a guest star in a Sons of Anarchy episode—the character who gets killed or has an important appendage cut off.
Read the room—the empty room. Luca is nowhere in it, and that tells you everything you need to know. He saved your life, he watched you go through a four-day meltdown, and then after you begged for him to hold you, he gave in and complied. That tells you everything you need to know. Next time, just cuddle up with your cat and leave the poor man alone.
Given a sour-tasting shot of reality by my inner voice, I get out of bed, get dressed, and practice looking in the mirror so I don’t greet Luca with moon eyes when he comes in.
I’m feeding Delilah when the door finally opens, and Luca comes in carrying an armful of logs. “You’re up,” he says, a smile on his face.
I nod. “How long was I out?”
“About eighteen hours,” he replies, placing several logs in the fireplace to feed the low fire he’s kept going since we got here and the rest in the fire box next to it.
