Page 77 of Hunt Me

I let my eyelids close and hope that next to him, I’ll be able to sleep without nightmares, all the way until morning.

19

DENVER

There’ssomething to be said about waking up in bed with a lover after getting my brains fucked out. I’m still sore all over from the attack, and I’m on edge because I still have no idea when this will all be over—ifit will ever be over.

But right now, I’m content. Archie’s chest is pressed against my arm, rumbling with what I assume is a soft snore. In his sleep, he looks soft.

Young. Unburdened by the hard, heavy life I know he has.

I still don’t totally understand who these brothers are, what they do, or why they moved to town. I do know they’re dangerous. I know that I’m safe with them, but only because I’m not on their bad side.

It should scare the absolute piss out of me, but it doesn’t. Apart from putting on feminine clothes and performing onstage, I’ve never done anything risky. I took the easy path. The safe path.

I majored in Deaf studies in college because I wanted to better understand the community after growing up in a hearing family. I wanted to connect to the community I had been denied when I was younger.

And I did.

I made friends, I dated, I finally felt like myself. I found drag in that community too, and it was amazing, but nothing ever really happened until the stalker turned up in my inbox and eventually on my doorstep. And even that was eventually handled after Thorne arrived to deal with it, and while he might be back, nothing about me has fundamentally changed as a person.

I’m still me. Enthusiastic and wild onstage and a bit of a saltine cracker when I’m not performing.

A small piece of me is confused and a little worried because what could Archie possibly see in me other than a man who wears panties and enjoys being fucked in a graveyard?

What could I possibly offer him besides that? And when I get comfortable and settle a bit more into my own skin here with him, will he still want me then?

The uncertainty burns in my stomach, and it’s not helped by the fact that my emotions are slightly unstable from the concussion, and the pain is making it hard to tolerate anything else. I think I might have overdone it.

My bladder throbs in my gut, so I attempt to roll away from Archie, who tightens his grip around me, and I feel another, heavier rumble against my arm. His lips form a heavy word, and though I can’t read it, I’m pretty sure he’s saying, “No.”

I tap him until one bleary eye peers open at me. ‘Bathroom,’ I sign.

He blinks like he’s confused, then licks his lips and slowly draws his arm away. He tenses, like he’s debating whether or not he’s going to come with me, and that’s where I might have to draw a line.

I don’t mind the voyeurism. I don’t mind the stalking—and god help me, because I think I actually mean that. But I will stop at him watching me have a piss.

In the end, he rolls onto his back and lets me go, though I can feel the weight of his gaze on me as I walk to the bathroom and close the door. There’s a tiny lock on the handle, and I debate about turning it, but in the end, it’s probably better if I don’t.

If I get dizzy and fall over, I’d rather not have him break the door down to get to me. I really can’t afford that sort of repair on my shit-ass salary.

I take the reprieve for what it is as I take care of business, though I realize as I’m washing my hands and putting water on my face that I don’t know that I want one. I like being around Archie, and that’s new for me.

I’ve always been a social person, but I’ve never wanted to cling so badly as I do to him. I’ve never felt so…fulfilled.

I certainly didn’t think I was going to find that satisfaction with a hearing man, though I’ve never been as closed off to the idea as a lot of my Deaf friends are. But I most definitely didn’t picture myself falling for someone who might be,well.

A killer.

Or something like it.

I was horrified to hear about Leaf’s aunt and what she’d done. And now look at me. I’m letting one fuck me senseless. With a knife. With his dick. And I’m loving it.

I stare in the mirror, grimacing at the bruises still marring my face, but apart from that, I don’t seem any different. I’m still the same person—Denver by day, Glimmer Dear some nights. A gay man who likes lace and silk, who looks good in red lipstick and a smokey eye.

And a man who apparently also likes being chased in the dark through an orchard with a concussion and fucked silly in a basement bedroom three feet away from an actual coffin.

I feel a rumble under my feet and realize that Archie is either pacing or knocking. I’ve probably been in here too long,and frankly, I need to face the day. I have two more weeks left of classes before summer’s here, and I just need to get through that, grade everyone’s finals, and then…