Page 260 of Satan's Spawn
Crayton punches the wall at his side, roaring with frustration. “Don’t you see there’s so much fucking wrong with me?!” He hits it again. “Why do you even bother?”
“Because I care deeply for you, and not being able to give you a blowjob won’t change that.” Standing, I cup his angry jaw. “When the time is right it’ll happen.”
Crayton presses the heel of his hands into his eyes, cursing himself.
“Stop.” I rip his hands from his face and bring them to my chest, so he can feel the steadiness of my heart. “You see that? Nothing for me has changed. My heart beats for you the exact same way as it did two minutes ago.”
“I may not ever be ready, Little Ghost.” He releases a haggard breath. “It reminds me too much of—”
I don’t let him finish that sentence; I refuse to let that despicable woman get between us.
“Then it never happens, Crayton. Your journey to healing isn’t mine to navigate. As long as I’m by your side, the trivial shit will never matter.”
His breathing levels out enough for him to pull me into an embrace.
“I’m trying really fucking hard. But I’m not perfect like you.” He holds out his arm, the one he’s been cutting since he was a kid. “I got scars, Rebecca, a lot of ’em, and they were never meant to fade.”
“Stop the perfect bullshit, Crayton. The idea is a farce.” I bring his arm close enough to inhale the subtlety of his cologne. “Plus, what’s meant and what’s not isn’t for any of us to decide.”
I pepper each carved letter with soft kisses, hoping he can see how beautiful he truly is. Scars and all.
“Here I am telling you to let go of your insecurities, but I allow mine to eat me alive.”
Releasing his arm, I meet his gaze head on, imploring him to understand. “What you’re insecure about is lengths away from being squeamish about a little blood.” I cradle his face when he looks away. “And it won’t be forever, I promise.”
Crayton rears back when I try to kiss him, forcing my arms to fall at my sides. “You don’t fucking know that.”
“But I do.”
I find his eyes again, but they’re still drowning in doubt, so I tell him exactly what my father said to me every time things got hard. “Dad would always say, ‘The strongest warriors win the toughest battles.’ You know why?” When Crayton’s tense shoulders ease up I add the kicker, which I believe almost as much as I believe in him. “Because they have someone to fight for.”
A smirk breaks through his troubled frown, and it feels like coming up for air.
I rest my hands on my hips and tilt my head. “So, tell me, Crayton Shaw…who is ityou’refighting for?”
I don’t get a straight answer, not that I need one, because the look of appreciation that lights up Crayton’s face before he kisses me needs no further explanation.
41
CRAYTON
SPRING
There’s a lot on the line when a broken guy like me finds a selfless girl like Rebecca willing to stick around trying to fix him. It’s something I’ve realized with the passing weeks.
She’s proven more than anyone that she accepts me with flaws and shattered pieces trailing behind.
Which is why I’ve been trying my hardest to curb the need to fight her efforts.
Endless questions that used to leave me grinding my molars to shavings, turned into conversations, which lead to understanding and sex shortly after.
I made a promise to her, and I fully intend to keep them all. Except one. I can’t let go of losing my knife.
Even with Alexis out of the picture, the idea she took something of mine with so much significance does not sit well with me.
Fuck, it doesn’t sit at all.
In the end this is my fault, I let my guard down and she jumped on the opportunity to hurt me the only way she can without losing her head.
