Page 23 of My Revenant
It wasn’t a question, but I still answered it quietly. “About you.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw him nod. “So you were defending me.”
I felt like I had to defend myself againstthataccusation. “I would have done the same if he were talking about anyone!”
Would I, though?If someone had said something bad about Becca, I’d be the first in line to make them swallow their teeth, but if it was anyone else… would I have gotten involved, even knowing it was a fight I couldn’t win? I was afraid of the answer.
“Sure thing, City Boy.”
“I told you not to call me that.” I glared at him, but he wouldn’t look back at me to see it.
With his attention elsewhere, I took him in. There was a fresh cut on his eyebrow, and his nose had dried blood around the left nostril, like it had been bleeding again recently and had only just stopped. The dark shadows under his eyes told me it could have been broken. It definitely seemed kind of swollen. So did his split bottom lip. I glared at it like I could make the pain disappear if I intimidated it enough.
“Whatcha lookin’ at?” Those full lips smiled again, the split opening in a way that must have stung, but I couldn’t read any hurt in his eyes when mine met them again.
My mouth ran dry. “I want a smoke,” I lied. I’d never touched a cigarette in my life.
“Mmm… is that why you keep looking at my lips?”
“Fuck you,” I snapped. His eyebrow twitched up like I’d just suggested something he was considering. It was suddenly really hot. Wasn’t it supposed to be going into winter? Why was it hot?
Instead of responding, he reached into his jacket pocket, I assumed for the cigarettes. I tracked his movements—the spider tattoo, the veins in his hands, his busted knuckles. Maybe he was just used to pain.
He handed me a pouch along with a small bag of white things and a slim cardboard package with tiny papers inside. I took them from him and sat up—using my back as a shield between us—and examined whatever the fuck he’d just handed me.
The pouch contained loose tobacco. The white things seemed to be filters, and I guessed I was supposed to roll myself a cigarette using the thin papers.
I pulled one free and added some tobacco into the crease in the middle, not knowing at all how much I was supposed to use, so I added a bit more, then tried to balance it all as I put the filter in the end. The paper wasn’t sticky, so I guessed I had to lick it or something to make it stay shut? I thought I’d seen people do that before.
When I was done, it looked nothing at all like a cigarette, and most of the tobacco simply tumbled out of the loose tube-ish thing I’d created. So did the filter.
“You good?”
I flinched at the question, my cheeks heating in embarrassment. Why the fuck had I committed to this?
“Yes.” I pulled another paper to salvage this abomination, tucked the filter back in, and rolled the whole thing up in a tighter tube.
“You generally only need one,” said a voice right in my ear, causing me to drop the damned thing anyway. I recoiled as if struck, scampering back until I had some semblance of personal space again, my heart thundering as I glared at him.
He smiled, picking up the Frankenstein cigarette and examining it.
“Very… creative?” He didn’t even try to hide his amusement.
“Shut up!”
“Temper, temper, all you had to do was ask.” He smirked, reaching for the pouch again.
He made it look easy, rolled it like it was second nature, and when his tongue darted out to wet the paper, I noticed the glint of something in his mouth.Fuck, he had a tongue piercing. That… that was… something.
When he was done, it looked perfect. Dex brought it to his lips. Locked eyes with me as he lit it. Exhaled the plume of smoke in my direction before his hand extended toward me, the cigarette sitting pretty between tattooed fingers.
I took it from him, eyes refusing to leave his as it rested between my fingers.
“You gonna smoke that or you just want to hold it?” he asked after a long moment where we did nothing but stare at each other. I brought it to my lips quickly, taking a deep inhale that closely resembled a punch to the throat. Despite my best efforts, I couldn’t help but choke and sputter at the vile taste.
The bastard cracked up laughing, reaching out to take it from me as I caught my breath and forced myself to stop from coughing further.
When I looked back at him, he was lying in the grass again, smokingmycigarette.
