Page 70 of Creep
When he slows down I know we must be driving into Vulture Hollow, so I open my eyes and look around. The central area has a few lights on, even at night, but I’m alarmed to see fire and smoke from afar. Creed’s not tensing up though when we drive that way, so I don’t panic either, and he was right.
We drive past one of the little squares around which several of the cabins huddle, and a small bonfire is burning in the middle. When people glance our way, I spot Brigid and her daughter Luna among at least a dozen teens roasting something over the fire, a few of them crafting figures out of sticks.
I don’t have time to work out whether it’s some mystical ritual or just entertainment. We drive down the dirt road toward the canteen instead.
The village is quieter without the bikers and their party-loving friends, and the main communal area feels deceptively still as we stop close to the empty playground. The scent of moss hangs in the air as I slide off the motorcycle and take a lungful of it, straining my eyes to see details in the dark. A couple of people are still up, as evidenced by lamps in individual cabins, but the canteen appears deserted, and I half-expect to see dust once we enter.
Grinning at Creed, I march up to the main door and press on the handle, to find the entrance locked. He stops by his bike to grab a jacket from the saddlebag, but he doesn’t put it on, which is no surprise because it’s not particularly cold outside. He has his habits, so I don’t question it.
“It’s locked,” I announce my disappointment when he joins me.
Creed shakes his head. “Of course it is.” He walks into the bushes to the side of the door, then scoots down there, disappearing from my sight. When he eventually emerges, a set of keys jangles in his hand.
I cock my head. “Do you have spares for every building?”
“Most of them. Prophet even trusts me with his.” It’s clearly a point of pride, because he stands straighter when he says it. Creed unlocks the door and opens it for me like a gentleman. As if we’re not breaking in. As if he’s taking me to an exclusive event, he’s wearing a suit worth thousands of dollars, and I’m the date he intends to seduce.
It’s working.
“This place looks different after dark,” I mutter, facing the shadows of tables and benches stretching far into the space where everything becomes a uniform shade of black. The moment I finish speaking, several lamps light up at once, illuminating the canteen just enough to prove that it is still in use, and we won’t be attacked by zombies. Though there is Beaky watching us from above. I can only hope the vulture carcass isn’t coming alive any time soon.
I grin and head straight for the back of the canteen, to the wall covered by a dense layer of pictures featuring members of the community and those deemed worthy of being invited to Vulture Hollow. I pull out the piece of cardboard I used to keep our photos from bending, and pick up the first one we took, in which both Creed and I are staring at the camera, drunk on that moment of happiness.
“Where should we put it?”
Creed looks so serious when he assesses the board, as if this decision could make or break his life. “Here,” he points out a spot. “Not central, but also not on the sidelines.”
And next to a photo of Clyde and Road sharing a massive hunk of meat like two cavemen, so maybe it’s secretly a gay couples’ competition, but I won’t tease him about it, because I know his self-esteem is fragile, and I don’t want him to doubt himself. I take some of the sticky tape from a box resting on a side table and use it to arrange the picture of us in a way that makes it stand out among photos with a darker general color.
“There!” I tell him, taking a step back to admire my work. The other photos will go in my private stash.
I’m surprised when he pulls me in for a hug. The way he’s opening up to touch is so endearing. I don’t want him to feel patronized, so I’d never say it to his face, but it’s like enticing a dog that’s been kicked too many times. I think he’s not just enamored with me, but actually trusts me now, which is so precious I want to kiss him all over. I could hand him the keys to my house, the PIN to my phone, and doze off knowing he wouldn’t touch me sexually until he knows we’re playing.
We linger in comfortable silence, looking at the photos together, but he eventually pulls away and stands in front of me with a tense expression that makes him no less handsome. He’s so very pale his skin is like porcelain in the dim yellow light of a single lamp above the photos. I shaved him before we went out, and I’m pretty proud of the moisturizing regime I enforced, as it’s made his skin perfect in no time. Bruises and swelling can’t spoil it.
Creed clears his throat, and now I’m starting to worry, because he’s shifting from side to side. “I… I got this made for you,” he says and holds up the jacket. When he unfolds it, I realize it’s not a jacket at all, but a leather vest. It’s on the shorter side, with fringing at the bottom, but it’s the patches on it that make Creed’s intention’s clear. The club logo in the middle,Property ofon top, andCreepat the bottom. “If you accept it. I know you’re barely settling in Vulture Hollow, but Angel… you meaneverything to me. You made me feel that I deserve to be seen, and I want everyone to see you as mine. My name would protect you even when I’m not there.”
The playful mood from moments ago is gone, replaced by a sense of importance. It’s just the two of us here. I don’t know whether he wants to make sure I don’t feel pressured to agree, or if he’s worried what might happen if others see me reject him, but he chose this setting for a reason.
He wants honesty.
Something I haven’t quite offered him yet.
A sigh shakes my body as I lower my head, fighting the urgent desire to ignore that fact and let him claim me.
Isn’t that what I always wanted? To belong with someone who cares for me instead of enjoying my presence as part of a draining arrangement? I wanted something real. Something so raw and visceral my man and I would be like two primordial beasts, the last of their kind and utterly dependent on one another.
But I don’t have the right to demand something real if I’m not willing to offer him the same. Now that Domino knows where I am, keeping Creed in the dark is too risky. Even if I’m putting my life on the line by outing Domino.
“N-no?” Creed whispers, but it’s like the cracking of ice about to lead to an avalanche. I need to stop it before it’s too late.
“No. But it’s not what you think. I… I want it. I want you. But I’ve had a secret, and you need to know it before you decide if you really want this.”
He doesn’t even blink. Watching. Waiting. Assessing me and my worth? I’m getting into my own head now, so I better spit it out.
“I was sugaring on the side, right? With those two guys you know about, but there was also a third, and…” I flap my armsabout as the pressure in my chest grows, threatening to either break my ribs or squash my heart.
I don’t think there is anything particularly bad about selling sex, or having many partners, but I would always let things go too far, trying to please guys, and once that happens, retreating can be incredibly difficult. Of that, I am ashamed.
