Page 45 of Martyr
Imagine.
“Artemis?”
I cock my head.
She shivers. Her head is already back against the pillow more, her body seeming to sink into the bed. “Never mind. Later.”
Later.
“Promise?”
She barely manages a nod. I point, silently holding her to it, and exit the room before I completely lose my mind and burst into tears.
19SAINT
I follow Reese to town.I’m in borrowed jeans, a thick, lined canvas jacket, and boots that are a size too big. He said we needed groceries, then paused and asked if I wanted to come along. Since I couldn’t exactly go marching through the store in what isclearlytrauma center uniform, we raided Kade’s closet.
Part of me expected chatter. A never-ending stream of conversation from Reese. But, so far, he’s remained stoically quiet.
It’s more unsettling than I’d like.
He walks with a purpose. Shoulders back, strides long. Even though I’m fairly confident he doesn’t know the exact way, or the best path, anyone who saw him would assume he does.
Before the wholeamnesiathing, I walked like that. I knew my place in the world. I was next to Elora, of course. We were building a life together. Fighting at Olympus, my tattoo shop, making masks… I knew what I wanted from life, and it was simple.
Maybe it wasn’teasy, but I never wanted the big things. I didn’t need huge, expensive vacations, or an extravagant house, or anything other than Elora.
I pull Kade’s jacket tighter around me. It’s loose in the shoulders, and the citrus scent keeps assaulting my nose every time I shift it.
That kiss is another thing entirely.
Expected? After the games we ended up playing?
Or… after the memory of it? I linger onthat, now convinced my brain wasn’t just spinning creative stories. He was more aggressive the first time. We were clothed, but he pinned me with his hips, his chest pressed to mine. His grip on my jaw was the same. The kisses were the same.
And then, we broke apart and stared at each other, and my fucking dick was standing straight up. He glanced from my eyes down to it, then over his shoulder. When he left me against the wall and went to Artemis and Reese, who were equally lost in their own world on the couch, my stomach twisted.
Because him touching her while Reese fucked her was probably much hotter than anything I could’ve conjured in my brain.
“We’re guests of Kade’s,” Reese says over his shoulder.
It jars me away from the image of him and Artemis.
“If anyone asks. We came in with him the other day.”
“Fine,” I agree. “Better than telling people I’ve escaped from the insane asylum.”
The people haven’t beenallthat bad—and they’re definitely not the old-school definition of insane. Misguided, maybe. Mistreated. Healing from trauma.
“Are you sure you should be going into town?” I catch up to him. “You know, since you’re apparently a wanted felon?”
Reese scoffs. “I’m not. You, on the other hand…”
I rear back. “What?”
“You’re an escapee from the trauma center. A pair of jeans won’t hide that unless you act cool.” He taps the brim of the caphe dug out of Kade’s closet. “A hat does a lot in subterfuge. I’d know.”
“Wouldn’t you rather a pair of glasses, Clark Kent?”
