Page 56 of Festive Fugitive
He freezes, both his real eye and the fake one open wide, as if I was a snake that might kill him with a single drop of its venom. “I love you.”
I pull the mask under my chin to kiss him. “I told you it’s inside you. You care for me more than for the need to own me. That’s unselfish. That’s love. And I love yousomuch, Cesar. I don’t need to go anywhere without you. I’ll gladly and freely follow you to the end of the world.”
He exhales, releasing air as if it’s been choking him. “You promise? You’re staying because you want to?” he asks in a voice so heartbreakingly tender I know that if I rejected him now, the wound would never heal.
But I’d never do that. I am his, and he is mine.
I nod, my arms wrapped around him. “Yes. There’s nothing I want more than to live at your side.”
His grip tightens around me, until my feet leave the deck, and he is pressing us so close together, not a single hair could sneak in between us. “I want to make you happy. So you never regret this.”
“I have many regrets, Cesar. You will never be one.”
He gives me another kiss, this time more intense, and I can only hope we don’t have any spies around, because I can’t stop myself when his hot tongue caresses mine, his lips so soft and warm. I wouldn’t need a coat right now, because the heat that courses through my veins thanks to his love is enough.
He loves me.
It takes a while for us to stop, but eventually Cesar pulls away with a soft smile. “Let’s go find our cabin. We’ll be on board for a while. More than enough time for you to think about how you want to decorate our new home.”
Home.
I feel like crying again. Before meeting him, I lived out of my car for over a year. Before that, my living arrangements were on shaky legs for years. And now I’ll not only have a home with the man I love, but also money to decorate it, make it our sanctuary.
He leads the way out of the shelter. The wind has gotten worse now that we’ve left the port, so he shields me and leads the way toward the nearest staircase. The man who watched us board is still there, now wearing a woolen hat and a bright yellow jacket. He’s only missing a long pipe to look like an old-timey seaman.
He stares into my eyes, which is uncomfortable in itself, but the way he steps toward us, eyes pinned to mine unnerves me.
“You’re the Festive Fugitive.” It’s more of a statement than a question.
Suddenly, I’m all too aware that I lost my damn hat and my gray hair flaps about in the wind like a flag. My mask is pulled down after all the kissing because I’m a dumbass, so I just stand there, petrified and unsure what to do. Bynow, he might have already alerted the police over the radio.
I remain frozen when Cesar steps in front of me, a bull about to charge. Or throw the man overboard. And I—don’t stop him, so maybe I’m not as good of a person as I always believed myself to be.
The seaman watches him with bright eyes, unfazed, as if he’d fought off the Kraken and wouldn’t be intimidated by the likes of Cesar. “What? You’re the one who didn’t notice he removed the mask. At this rate, the whole ship will know we have a celebrity on board,” he adds with a raspy chuckle.
I pull up my mask despite it being too late now. I also pull up my hood, which gets instantly blown back. My heart beats so fast I’m on the verge of fainting, but the man doesn’t… seem antagonistic?
“Your secret’s safe with me, kid. Good riddance, if you ask me. Go on.” He shakes his head and steps back to the railing to let us through. “And hide that mop on your head. You got this far, don’t ruin it.”
I swallow and nod, not bothering to smile, since the mask would now hide it. “Thank you. I will.” I pull my hood on, and this time keep it in place with my hand.
If Cesar thanks him too, he does it in silence. My reality is overwhelming, so I walk on weak knees and let my man steer me in the right direction, just like he has since we met. For once, I don’t have to carry all the burdens myself, I have someone to shoulder them with me.
Someone who loves me, and for whom I matter. Someone to cherish, and to spend every Christmas with. Someone for whom I’d kill or die.
“Alaska, here we come,” I say as soon as we’re in our cabin, and hug Cesar.
He closes me in his strong arms, and I know I’m safe already.
Epilogue
Cesar
Oneyearlater.
“A year on since Arthur Sullivan’s violent death, we are still left with questions. We might never know what became of Elijah Ward, also known as the Festive Fugitive, after he fled the police. But the anniversary of the event that shook America is not without controversy. Ward’s supporters have gathered for spontaneous rallies in many of our cities, protesting against corruption in politics, but many commentators point out that unlawful deaths should not be celeb—”
I switch off the TV, cutting the anchor off just before she can start a conversation with one of the so-called commentators, but both Eli and I have had enough of this whole Festive Fugitive business. For us, life has gone on, and we’re planning to celebrate our second Christmas together.
