Page 131 of My Revenant
“Dex—” Jonah tried to talk to me once I’d pushed him into the bedroom, but I cut him off.
“Not now, baby, please,” I pleaded with him. “Let’s just get our stuff and go. Nothing else matters if we have each other. Please.”
His brow furrowed as if he were in pain, but he nodded, grabbing his things and shoving them in a bag beside mine.
We had what we needed and then we were making our way down the stairs, my mind already racing about what this meant, about where we would go.
She was still standing by the door. Apparently we were taking too long, and it had just riled her up more. Because throwing me out wasn’t enough anymore, she had found her weapon in threatening to get the police involved, but why not twist the knife further?
“Should have kicked you out years ago.” Verbal vitriol. “You’re what made him do it, you know. He killed himself cause he didn’t want to put up with you anymore.”
I only just managed to catch Jonah as he launched himself at her again, my vision blurring with tears that I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing.
“You or your bitch girlfriend ever come back here and there’ll be more fucking bodies to hide. You hear me, Dexter? Don’t you ever fucking come back.”
I expected the threat to spur Jonah on further, instead he stilled. With my arm around his waist, I couldn’t see the expression he was giving her, but I saw something in her eyes I hadn’t seen in a long fucking time. Fear. Just for a moment, then she was holding up her phone again. “Get out. I’m calling the fucking cops. Out fucking now!”
Jonah’s hand grabbed my wrist, and he pulled it off him, standing tall and giving her another long glare before he turned and walked out the door ahead of me.
forty-seven
Dex - Past
WHAT COMFORT FEELS LIKE.
Pale blue eyes looked us over, and without asking a single question, Roy stepped to the side, holding the door open.
Jonah had followed me in his car, the one bag containing everything we now owned thrown in his back seat as I started up my bike and led him here, to the only place I could think of going.
My head wasn’t right, never was around that woman. I couldn’t think clearly. She’d been bad before, said mean things, and she’d hurt me—fuck, she’d even threatened to kill me before—but she’d never thrown me out. I’d never challenged her before, though. Never wanted to risk what would happen if I did. Because maybe they weren’t just idle threats.
Roy closed the door behind us.
“Staying a while, then?” he asked, eyes on the bag in Jonah’s hand before they flicked to mine.
Just having him look at me made the heat I’d fought back on the ride here resurface. I shut my eyes tight so they wouldn’t spill my secrets and I nodded. When I opened them again he nodded as well.
“Right. This way.”
With no further preamble, Roy led the way down the hall of his home. It was aged but well maintained. Light gray carpet streaked with uniform lines from a recent vacuum, and wood-paneled walls absorbed the late morning sun. The air smelled of warm pine and something sweeter… something comforting.
The room he led us to had a completely different vibe—a bed much bigger than mine, covered in floral bedding and decorative pillows, the furniture all white unlike the dark-wood theme throughout the rest of the house. It wasn’t overly spacious, but it was tidy, with a vanity to one side and a tall white wardrobe on the other. A large window filled the space with scattered sunlight shining through its lace curtain.
I turned to Roy, raising a tired brow.
He shrugged a shoulder. “Was the wife’s room.” He cleared his throat. “Right, then. I’ll be… around. If you need me.”
With that, he shuffled off toward the kitchen, and I knew I owed him more of an explanation. I’d make sure I gave it to him, but I didn’t have the energy for it right now. Jonah closed the door and locked it behind us before taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
He’d been so very quiet. I knew there was a fire burning inside him, desperate to be unleashed upon the woman who had just shaken our world, but he kept it in. His eyes searched mine, seeking another way forward.
I didn’t have answers for him. There weren’t any words. I didn’t know how to comfort him or how to ask for comfort. Because I’d dealt with this on my own my entire life, all I wanted to do was shrink into the shadows and hide until things felt quiet and calm again.
They should have been calm. I was out of her reach, and these walls had never seen me hurt. Still, her claws sunk into me from the inside, from the memories and the scared little child I kept locked away in my core. He was safer there, locked away always, but he was scared, and he was alone.
Jonah kicked his shoes off, shuffling on the bed until his back rested on the pillows before he held his arms out to me. My inner child reached for him, longing for a comfort forever denied to him, hands that would hold and soothe rather than destroy. I went tohim, lay over him, my face buried in the fabric at his chest, my legs slotted between his like a perfect puzzle piece. His arms wrapped around me, and mine around him, and I cried. I wept like that small child inside me wanted to weep all those years, because there was finally someone who would listen.
Jonah held me as if he could reach through time and cradle all the past versions of me that needed this, that neededhim.
