Page 6 of Satan's Naughty List
It’s shocking, to say the least.
“What’s wrong?” She questions, nudging me with her shoulder. Sighing heavily, I scrub my hands over my face. The late hour doesn’t help the exhaustion we all feel. It’s been a long month, let alone night. Tracking down these girls, making deals, sealing down the cartel…we’re all weary.
“Drained,” I huff, a dry chuckle echoing from my lungs. She laughs with me, a slight nod to follow.
“I know what you mean. Plus, add the damn Ergot bitches. Are we any closer on accessing their servers?” Glancing over our shoulders to where Techy made his swift exit, I sigh. As much as I don’t want to bother him, it’s a valid question. One we don’t have time to wait for an answer on.
“I’m not sure. I’ll check with him then call in later?” Taking a few steps back, I briefly glance at the shut door. There’s light shuffling from what I can hear, machines beeping as time slowly eases by.
“How about you just let me know for Church tomorrow, yeah?” Nodding, she gives me a clap on the back, hand trailing to squeeze my shoulder. “You should have seen him out there. Like a natural. He’ll be alright, just needs time.” Giving her a less-than-reassuring smile, I trudge up the steps.
Some of the guys are debriefing with beers and jacket pickers, pounding the females into the vinyl countertop. Others are walking around, wishing their goodnights to the guys. It’s a hit or miss, but tonight I’m in no mood to have a beer.
I just want to curl up around Techy, cuddle him closely and figure out what’s on his mind. When he walked away, his shoulders were slumped heavily, his brain was obviously foggy with emotions he didn't know how to express.
Our bedroom door is slightly ajar, silence on the other side. Pushing it open, the hinges creak. Techy sits on the bed, his head perched in his hands. He doesn’t even acknowledge me as I walk into the room and sit next to him. My hand lands on his back, and even then, he doesn’t move.
“What’s going on?” I ask gently, leaning my head on his shoulder. He gives a mirthless laugh, gripping his hair tightly.
“I don’t even know. Seeing her like that…I don’t know how you do it.” Nodding, I rub his back soothingly. It’s not an easy job, that’s for sure. Especially having to hunt down women and get them to safety before some other bastard grabs them for the reward money.
“I do it because of this. The outcome. I won’t have you there when we kill the sick sons of bitches that hurt those girls, but you might be there to help retrieve the girls.” He sighs heavily, raking his hands through his hair before popping his head up.
“Seeing that gorgeous girl that was beaten up? What if I’m drawn to them all like this?” His eyes catch mine with earnest fear. “This pull I feel to the girl in the basement…do you feel it?” He asks, tears welling in his soft eyes. Moving my hand onto his shoulder, I bring him closer.
“You got trauma bonded to her, Pax. You’re not stupid or weak for feeling it. I think it’d be a good idea to keep your distance, though.” I hate that I don’t even want him near her. She’s gorgeous, even with the matted hair and blood stained body. Her face was shallow and distraught, and yet, she’s still stunning. He leans away, shaking his head.
What if he likes her more? Leave me for her?
“I don’t know if I can…” he admits softly, turning away from me. I try to pull him back into me, but he’s up and out of my reach before I can. “I feel the same pull I felt toward you.” Now that’s an admission. My chest constricts, my throat tightens. Am I losing my husband?
“Pax, what are you saying?” I choke out, my own eyes threatening to tear up. His face is pure distress, a mix between shock and hurt.
“I’m saying that I wouldn’t be closed off to opening our relationship for her…you think I want to leave you?” He asks, his voice hollow in a heartbreaking tone. “We’ve been together for almost five years, married almost four, and you’re concerned that I’m going to leave you? I don’t ever remember giving you an inkling of doubt before.” He’s devastated. We’re both just in shock.
“No, that’s not,” I pause, flying off the bed toward him. He takes a step back, holding up his hand. I feel my insides crumble. “Pax, please,” I beg, reaching toward him. He paces quickly, his wedding band catching in his hair as he rakes it roughly.
“I’ve said that I feel something for the girl. Nowhere in my words did I say I wanted to leave you.” A lone tear drips down his check, my stomach sinking as I feel like an utter ass. “Are you wanting to go? Is this a sense of projection?” He sobs, his fists gripping tightly on his roots.
“No!” I bark, storming him and not giving him the opportunity to back away. Grabbing his shoulders, I force him to meet my gaze. “You’re myeverything, Paxton Bradley. How would you feel if I suddenly asked to be open?”
“Andrew,” he sighs, placing his strong hands on my cheeks. Leaning forward, he kisses me softly. It’s not one based on dominance like usual. No, this kiss is claiming. He’s claiming me all over again. Pulling back, he licks my bottom lip and tugging it between his teeth. Letting it snap back into place, we stare. “I understand what you’re telling me. It’s not something I would be open to right away either. But, I feel this…pull. My brain can’t wrap around it. It’s something deep within my gut that’s telling me she is ours.Ours.Maybe it’s a trauma bond. Probably because she almost died in my arms. Yet, I can’t let that deter me. If you were there…would you not feel anything at all?”
My mouth opens then shuts almost immediately. I don’t know what to say. Did I feel something when I saw that girl? Yeah. I felt awful for the shit she went through. That poor woman went through hell and back for men who only wanted her as a toy. Do I feel more though?
“No, I don’t,” I sigh. His face drops, taking another shift backward. “I won’t lie to you, baby. You know I won’t.”
“I just need a minute.” Turning on his heel, he quietly slips into the bathroom and shuts the door. The faint click tells me that he’s locking himself in there.
“Fuck!” I roar, slamming my fist against the wall. I can’t fucking win. My own husband doesn’t even want me anymore.
Chapter Six
Tearstrackdownmycheeks, my heart constricts in my chest as I release a quiet sob. The sun is starting to rise, snow still falling heavily. Checking my phone, it’s past six in the morning. Exhaustion from everything is finally hitting me as I sit on the closed toilet, sobbing into a towel to keep myself silent. Nomad didn’t chase after me. He didn’t even stop me from walking away. Does he just not care about our marriage anymore? He acts as if Iwantto have feelings for another. I’ve never even been with a woman before. Being gay is a part of who I am, who I always was.
Sniffling, I tilt my head to look at the ceiling. It’ll be okay. This is just one of those rough patches that we’ll get through, just like we always do. Starting the shower, I realize my hands are still covered in blood. My clothes are dried from the muddy slush of the snow. I can’t imagine what the path in the forest looked like in the daylight.
A timid knock echoes through the bathroom. Before I can think, I whip the door open to see my husband standing there, hands shoved in his pockets. We always shower together, an excuse to ‘conserve water’. Neither of us move as we stare, his cheeks look almost exactly like mine. Tear stained and red.
