Lost Highway(21)

I focus on him rather than the darkening woods. His long legs pump hard even though he carries at least thirty pounds of supplies on his back. Quill moves like a machine, but I felt his heart beating in the basement and know he’s a man.

Wanting to feel his face again, I run faster. No matter how far ahead he becomes or how much the woods darken, I don’t stop. My tongue still relishes the sweetness of the candy, and my fingers tingle at the feel of his cheeks.

If I make it to the cabin, I plan to kiss him. His kiss in the basement felt clumsy, more hostile than passionate. He didn’t know what to do, but I’ll teach him. Quill never knew kindness. That much is clear based on his rough ways. I’ll show him how to treat me gently and how to pamper himself with small gestures.

When I run now, my leg no longer hurts. I only see Quill’s back in the distance and know I will reach the cabin before the darkness does.

The woods suddenly end, and I’m in the clearing. Quill stands at the foot of the porch steps. He calls my name, and I hear his panic. He knows the darkness is closing in on us, and he also hears the growling. We aren’t alone here, but I won’t allow fear to slow me. I keep running right past him and into the cabin, knowing he’ll follow.

Quill bolts the door closed and glances out the window. Based on his reaction, we barely made it. He closes the shades and turns to me.

“Thank you for the Skittle,” I say, sliding off my jacket. “It helped a lot.”

Quill’s face is a mask of rage and fear. He hates me now. I slow him down and make him care if I am left behind. He doesn’t want to feel anything. Indifference is all he knows, but it’s not what he needs.

Deep inside, Quill is curious about the warmth and care I offer. He isn’t blind to everything he missed in his odd, militaristic upbringing. Until now, he believed nothing he lacked was worth wanting.

I’ve changed everything for him, and now my weaknesses threaten to steal it all away.





Chapter Twenty-One


Quill




After unpacking the supplies, I wait for Odessa to listen to music or eat a piece of fruit. Rather than embrace the sounds and flavors of her old life, she watches me. I narrow my eyes at Odessa, wanting her to take the hint. She only narrows her eyes at me and then smiles.

“Have a peach,” I mutter.

“Will you eat some too?”

“It’s not poisoned.”

“I hope not,” she says, walking to the kitchen.

As her fingers slide over the peach, their movements mesmerize me. I remember the way they moved against my forearm. How they felt teasing my face. I need to stop thinking about her fingers, but they’re all I see until her lips press against the peach’s flesh.

Stepping back, I glare at her. Odessa’s infected me with her limitations. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore. It craves activities I don’t need or want. I’m unsure how to feed the desires. Odessa would know, but I refuse to ask. If a modest taste of affection turns me into this mess, I can’t chance taking things further.

“Have a bite,” she says, cutting a slice and placing it against my lips.

I eat the peach without tasting its sweetness. I can only think of Odessa in the shower back when she arrived at the cabin. The sight hadn’t affected me then, but now I am very aware of her small breasts under the yellow shirt she wears. I know her nipples are pink and harden in the cold. I recall the slight patch of dark hair covering her *.

Why can’t I stop thinking of her naked? I wonder if the Lost Highway is using her to destroy me.

Odessa slowly eats the peach, enjoying each bite. When juice drips down her chin, I ache to reach out and wipe it away. My fingers yearn to touch her.

I saved her. Not only today but since the first time I saw her in the Lost Highway. I deserve to take what I desire. Odessa wants to be punished, and I can be the man to hurt her the way she wants. I’ll give her what she craves, and she’ll provide what I need. We can make the same agreement she had with John.

I’m relieved the man is dead. I don’t want him walking around knowing how Odessa’s body feels. He needs to be dead, and she killed him, but I find myself wishing I could be the one to end him.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks, handing me another slice of peach.

My mind is on how she can relieve my painful erection. Except I refuse to give into this weakness.

The other Death Dealers haven’t disappeared simply because I feel lust. The wolves still hunt near the cabin. We aren’t safe, and I must remain on guard. Licking the juice from Odessa’s lips is a distraction I don’t need.

I’m startled from my thoughts by a loud popping sound. I realize I’ve crushed a ceramic cup in my hand. Looking at the jagged pieces, I hadn’t realized I was even holding anything.

I study my hand and then look to Odessa. She watches me with a soft gaze, and I think of how easily I could snap her neck. Without thinking, I could tear her apart just to have a few moments of pleasure and relief.

Despite knowing I’m too dangerous to allow my lust free, I can’t extinguish the hunger. For the first time, I understand the weakness inside others. I’ve never hated being human more.





Chapter Twenty-Two


Quill




The basement is the last place I normally want to be. I don’t like the nagging voices or the smell of bleach and blood. Now I view the brightly lit torture cell as my salvation. Walking down the stairs, I know Odessa will follow. She won’t let me out of her sight since we returned from the outpost. I’m her salvation.