Ten Below Zero(46)

I tried to wrap my brain around it. I understood memory loss to some extent, though I’d only lost minutes, not months. I finally understood why Everett had first made me feel sadness. There was sadness tinged in his smiles. The grief I initially read on his face went deeper than his skin.

“I got my GED and went away to college. My parents aren’t the same people they were before. My mom used to be social, she used to have book club and she organized activities for the youth members of her church. Now she works a job that makes her miserable, but she can’t afford to not work, not as a single woman living on her own. My father is mostly absent from my life. He’s still in love with my mom, and he can’t move on from her. My sister is raising my nephew on her own, working odd shifts. They say tragedy brings families together, but all it did was split mine apart. None of us are the same. We smile when we’re together, but we don’t mean it, not really. Being together for holidays is only a reminder of how good we used to be. It’s painful, Parker. To continually know, year after year, that it will never be as good as it was. That by the next year, we’ll have grown further apart.”

I understood then, why he wasn’t fighting the cancer. I didn’t agree with it, but I did understand why. It made me uncomfortable, to hear of Everett’s tragedies. Which was confusing itself, as I usually lived for that kind of entertainment. It was all I lived for really: people watching. But with the visit to the ghost town and hearing of Everett’s life with and after cancer, I felt like I’d more than just observed someone else’s life.

“Nothing to say to that? Have I depressed you?”

My eyes turned back to Everett. I didn’t know what to say, so instead I leaned in and gave him a kiss. It was tentative, as I was unsure if it was the right reaction to what he said. Just when I was about to pull away, he cupped a hand behind my head and pulled me closer.

His hand fisted in my hair as we kissed. Despite the grip on my hair, he kissed me leisurely. As one might savor a rare treat. But I was hungry, desperate. A fire had been smoldering all day long, sparking with each look he gave me. I didn’t have the patience to savor. I wanted to devour.

I climbed on top of him and whipped my shirt off, tossing it off the bed. Everett’s hands went to my hips, squeezing, before moving up my torso to my chest, tugging on the center of my bra. “Get this off.” He all but growled it.

I leaned forward, capturing his mouth with a kiss. I tasted impatience and heady desire on his lips. I was drunk with it.

His hands scaled my spine until the met the clasp of bra and a second later, he was ripping it off of me. His fingers moved around to my breasts and squeezed before he flicked my nipples with his thumbs. My back arched in response and Everett took the opportunity to flip me onto my back, so he was on top of me. His lips met mine again and again while he took care of the rest of our clothing. My nails grazed down his chest when he was over me again. His hair was hanging over his face, his lips were swollen and he was breathing heavily.

“Are you okay?” I asked, seeing a trickle of sweat on his brow.

“I will be. Now, no more talking.”

He slid a waiting condom on and was inside of me before I could say anything.



When we were both spent, Everett collapsed on top of me. I felt his arms wrap around my back and then I was pulled, so I was laying on top of him. He was asleep in seconds.

I, however, was wide awake. Sex with Everett was energizing, both in body and in mind. I slipped out of his arms and cleaned up in the bathroom. When I came out, he was still asleep, completely naked on the bed. I admired him for a minute, my eyes traveling over his entire body. It was my first chance to really see him without just a few glimpses in between driving me crazy.

I climbed back onto the bed, sitting up right next to him. My eyes slid over the tattoo on his ribcage, about the sweet moment. My eyes stayed there a beat before moving on. Below that tattoo, near his hip, was a tree. It started at his pelvic bone and moved up, with gnarled branches gliding around the front of his body and his back. The tree had no leaves, just twisted branches and straight roots. It was something I wanted to ask him about.

Along the right side of his ribs were a group of four, colored swallows, all flying in different directions. Along his upper right arm were three straight lines wrapping his bicep. I wondered about them. They weren’t just art; there was something more significant about them.

I heard my phone vibrate from inside my purse and slid off the bed to check it.

Mira: Hey, mouse. How are you?

I looked at the time. It was only ten, so I threw Everett’s tee on over my head and ducked outside of the hotel room onto the small balcony.

Me: Fine. Everything okay?

Mira: Can I call you?

Instantly, I knew something was wrong. Mira didn’t like to talk, not ever. She actively avoided answering her phone unless it was Six or someone else.

So I dialed her. It rang once before she answered.

“Mouse.” I heard relief in her voice.

“Mira. What’s wrong?”

There was a pause on the end of the line. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but I need your help.”

Now I was really worried. Mira didn’t ask me for help. She was the one who helped me.

“Of course. What do you need?”

“Can you come to Colorado?”

We weren’t far from Colorado now and I figured I could convince Everett to make another stop. “Yes,” I answered. “I’m in Arizona right now. I can probably be there tomorrow.”