Page 49 of Vallaverse: Twist
He's smiling.
Smiling.
“What did you do?”
He glances over at me, a smile still playing on his lips. “What was necessary.”
“What did you do, Brooks?” I whisper, fear beginning to spread through me.
His smile falters. “I killed her. It's been dealt with.”
The air suddenly becomes a solid, useless wall, and my chest heaves against the pressure.
“What?” Brooks asks, looking quickly from me to the road. “What would you have me do? She hurt you. She was a threat to you. She didn't deserve to live.”
The air that was frozen loosens all at once and begins rushing too quickly in and out of my lungs. This is worse. Kris was bad enough, but her associates are so much worse than she could ever be. That's why she worked so hard to juggle and appease them. That's why she gave me over to them over and over. That's why she let them put their rancid marks on me. She let them, over and over—
“Laz!” Brooks says my name sharply. “I need you to breathe. I'm going to pull over on the next exit. It's not safe to stop here. Breathe. Slow.”
“No,” I gasp. “No. Don't stop. We can't go home. We have to run.”
He barks a single laugh. “We're not running anywhere. We're going home, and I'm going to put you in a hot shower, and when you get out, I'll rub you down with oil until you're a puddle. We don't run. She's gone. She can't hurt you anymore.”
“It's not her!” I yell. “She's not the worst of them. It's the others. There were clients who were so bad, Brooks. She was afraid of them. She used me to keep them happy, but it was never enough. They always took more. But they protected her. Don't you understand? She had so many connections. Someone will come for me because of her.“
“You're safe, Laz.”
I shake my head. He doesn't understand. He thinks he's invincible. “They'll come for you. They'll come and then—“
“Then nothing,” he interrupts. “I promise you are safe. I swear it.”
“I'm so scared, Brooks. They will come. I don't know who or when, but they will come.”
He grips my thigh again and smiles at me. “Let them come. They are nothing. I won't allow anyone to touch you. If anyone dares to try, it will be the last thing they ever do. You are safe.”
His conviction is enough to calm me, but I can't let go of this worry. I believe him. I believe that he would end lives and empires in my name. He would have done it before, and that hasn't changed. I think that he may even be more determined now. But the threat is still there. Someone will come for me. They will want to avenge Kris, or the lost resources they invested into her, and they will try to take me because I was always her best asset.
“Can you try to trust me?” Brooks asks gently. “Just try?”
I swallow thickly and nod. What else am I supposed to do?
Chapter Twenty-One
Brooks
I have been very careful about Laz's nudity since he came home from the hospital. I have taken notice of the layers he wears, even to sleep in. I have taken note of the constant long-sleeved shirts, sweaters, and hoodies. I know for an absolute fact that Laz isn't shy or ashamed of his body. It's the opposite, actually. Laz has always enjoyed attention and has been secure in the fact that he's so temptingly attractive. Even now with all the layers, he's intentional with them. He always looks delicious. But there is something making him feel more comfortable in layers and staying mostly completely covered.
Any touching we've done in the evenings has been fully clothed on his part. I, myself, have only been partially undressed, now that I'm thinking about it. I don't mind. Whatever he needs is what we'll do, for as long as he needs. Obviously. But it does make giving him an oiled massage virtually impossible.
As soon as we got home, I marched him straight upstairs and started the shower for him. He put himself in and I didn't pushto stay in the room with him. I tried to make his room as cozy as possible while I waited for him to finish.
Every Omega I've ever known personally enough to know anything about their nesting habits has always maintained a semi-nest-like area in their personal space. Maybe not a full-on nest, but maybe a few extra blankets and pillows on the bed. A special armchair in their favorite corner with some favorite things nearby. At the very least, they have scent beads or scented candles readily available. Laz has none of those things. His room is almost clinical. I don't know anything about making a nest, but I remember some things from when we were together before. He likes cool scents more than warm, spicy ones. He prefers silk and satin to furry or fuzzy. He likes cool lighting as opposed to warm. I can try to recreate that atmosphere. Maybe poorly, but hopefully the thought will be enough to carry it.
I've been trying to ignore how worried I am that Laz doesn't seem interested in anything involving nesting. I wouldn't expect him to nest without having heat spikes or going into heat, so it's not abnormal. What's abnormal is the lack of anything personal in his room. I've offered to paint, get new bedding, new pictures, or décor—anything he might want. He just shrugs and says what's here is fine. I'm not going to push that anymore than I've pushed anything else, but I can't help the worry that's beginning to dig into the corner of my mind.
The doctors have assured us that he should eventually resume a normal heat cycle. They say that once his system has had time to rest and recalibrate, he should be something similar to how he was before he was perpetually in heat for years.Shouldbeing the operative. Heshouldgo back to his old self within a certain amount of reason. Heshouldbe able to live a normal life like any other Omega. None of the things they sayshouldhappen are particularly reassuring because they keep using the word “should”. I can't do anything about it other than worry and hope.
He comes out of the bathroom wearing a pair of slate-gray satin pajama pants and a long-sleeved, fitted, white cotton shirt. It's more tempting in some ways than if he were wearing much less. His shape is very defined under the shirt. I can see details under the fabric that I normally don't get to see if he's wearing a thicker shirt. And every possible angle and curve is very clearly visible under the slick material of his pants. All I want to do is touch him. He's so very touchable.
