Page 83 of One for the Money
Quinton has a history of depression and self-harm, and masochism and kink gave him a controlled outlet for that. I’ve always wondered if his mental health struggles made him more susceptible to, or if they are a precursor to, the Rot, but it doesn’t matter either way. He was a brat that needed taming, and a pet that needed a master in other moments. I was happy to learn to provide him with the pain that he required in a controlled, safe manner.
There is a possibility she doesn’t know she’s doing it, but as I talk, Alex is rubbing her face on my arm and shoulder, scent marking me. A small way of claiming me that has my stomach clenching. I don’t want to move for fear of her noticing and stopping.
“Oh, so you thought, ‘sure, but let me throw some knives at you first’?”
I crack up and shrug casually. “Kind of? Knife play was something we dabbled in, and I felt comfortable around the blades. He knew I would never give him more than he could handle. Eventually, we started looking up thrill acts online and taught ourselves one. Quinton can do anything he puts his mind to, and he decided that he wasgoing to learn how to perform these dangerous stunts, if only so he could say he knew how. Then, when Cirque de Mordu came through town, he begged me to audition with him.”
“And you just did? You dropped everything to audition for a traveling circus on Quinton’s whim?” She absentmindedly starts playing with my fingers. “I’m not judging, I’m just shocked that you were able to change your life so quickly.”
I give in to my urges and reach across to brush hair from her face.
She doesn’t flinch.
“What did we have to lose? Neither of us had a job we cared about or family ties to the area. What was the harm in trying to throw something together to audition? Jude was hard to get a hold of, and eventually we had to travel to the next stop and corner him after a show and demand a chance to show him our act.”
“Oh my God,” she laughs, her eyes twinkling. “I can imagine he did not take that well.”
“He did not,” I confirm. “But he let us do our routine, and hired us immediately. It turns out that he had an act that was retiring at the end of that circuit, so our timing was impeccable. We’ve been here ever since.”
She scoots a little closer to me, eventually resting in the curve of my body. “Do you ever think about the butterfly effect? Like what would have happened if Quinton didn’t break up with her at the shop, and waited until they got home or whatever?”
“All the time. But I also try not to dwell on what ifs or could have beens.” As I’ve been reminiscing, her scent was growing, like a cake fresh from the oven, and I can’t hold myself back anymore.
I lean forward slowly, giving her a chance to back away,and press my lips against hers. A soft inhale of breath against my mouth, and then she’s melting, her lips moving against mine in a tender, romantic moment that is branding me forever, just like the first time I met Quinton.
When I pull away and rest a hand on her face, I’m shocked to find her eyes cloudy, her face twisted, almost as if she is in pain.
“Are you okay?” I ask her quietly.
“That was a mistake.”
Chapter 31
Jude pulls upin front of what is probably my worst nightmare.
“Great NEST-spectations,” Quinton says, cracking up as he stares at the oversized superstore in front of us. “This is the best thing I’ve ever seen.”
He tumbles out of the truck that four of us should not have been able to squeeze into, but somehow managed. I’m stiff after half an hour wedged between him and Dario, but I don’t say anything lest I be labeled a spoilsport.
“It’s the highest rated nesting store in the area,” my brother remarks. “Only the best for our girl.”
His words make me a little itchy, but I don’t correct him. I’m not stupid enough to deny what she is to me anymore, but I’m still struggling with accepting it. Two competing desires are swirling inside me every moment since I first scented her.
Protect.
Hide.
Cherish.
Avoid.
I don’t know how I can ignore one and honor the other.
There is no doubt in my mind that I need serious therapy for what I witnessed, but our guardians neglected to set that up for us when we needed it most. All I got was the court-mandated stuff that I mostly faked my way through. Dario and I both have our wounds from childhood; mine are just more apparent at the moment.
However, I cannot deny the draw I feel for her. The desire to be next to her. Since the hospital, keeping my hands off of her feels like my nails are being slowly pulled out. It’s unnatural not to be near her.
If only I could get my conscious mind to catch up to my subconscious.
