Page 5 of Holiday Scars
My partner doesn’t answer. Just looks out the window, jaw tight.
We drive six hours north and watch the landscape change from skyscrapers to trees and mountain ranges. After one stop for lunch and another for a piss break, we turn into the long gravel drive. Dusk has settled over the lake in the distance, turning the water into a sheet of dull silver.
The cabin looks the same as it did a few months ago on Labor Day weekend. I came alone. The weathered wood, lumpy furniture, and smoky scent from a fire calms me. It’s my slice of peace in the middle of nowhere when it all gets too much.
Dirk hauls a cooler out of the back. “You two hit the store for sides before they close, yeah? I’ll turn on the water and heat, and get the fryer set up for tomorrow.”
That’s our tradition, but I suddenly don’t want to go. I don’t want to be alone with Blade.
“Yeah,” I say anyway, because I’m going to have to get over it.
Or... Maybe I should call in a transfer to Shane’s detail, cover for a missing guard. It’s not like Blade would miss me.
Dirk tosses his keys to Blade, who just hops into the driver’s seat. Doesn’t even ask me if I want to drive his new Ford F-150 Raptor.
“Music?” he asks.
“Sure.” I automatically reach for the dial to find something fast and loud to avoid talking.
Blade also reaches for it, and our hands collide.
Something raw detonates beneath my skin. My hand jerks back, and I glance over to see if he’ll ask why I won’t touch him. He looks at me, but doesn’t say a word. Just turns back to the radio, jaw tight.
“The 70s station, right?” He finds it on the XM menu, and Abba’sDancing Queenpumps out of the speakers.
I’d rather hearTake a Chance on Me. But I settle into the seat for the ten-minute drive to the nearest open grocery store.
The place is nearly empty, and they’re closing in thirty minutes. We’re not feeding an army and only need the basics for our Thanksgiving dinner. We’ll come back on Friday for what we need to get us through the rest of the weekend.
The aisles hum from the old fluorescent lights above. I grab a cart and follow Blade because in everything we do, he’s the lead.
He’s the...top. Warmth creeps up my neck at the thought.
He starts talking, the words spilling out like he’s afraid of what too much silence between us will lead to. Confessions? Apologies?
“Shane and Lennox’s baby is due soon,” he says, reaching for a bag of potatoes. “You talk to Creed much?”
I freeze, wondering if he can read my thoughts, how I’d been thinking about working for Shane. “Creed and I text occasionally.”
“Text?” Blade glances over his shoulder. “About what?”
Damn, why did I mention texting?
Sighing, I confess, “I was thinking of asking him about taking that open guard position.”
Blade stops short. Right in the middle of the aisle. “You leaving me and Rhys?” His tone sharpens, edges scraping.
Guess, hewouldnotice...
“Nothing’s decided.” I pull at my collar and head down an aisle for the cranberry sauce. “I haven’t mentioned it to Creed yet. So, keep your mouth shut.”
Blade grumbles something under his breath that sounds a lot likesomeone else leaving me.I pretend I don’t hear it, but the words hang in the air, thick and painful. I’m not sure how to feel about that.
We keep shopping. Blade tosses boxed stuffing, canned gravy, and even a pie into the cart. His shoulders are tight, movements clipped and rough.
I follow behind, pretending to scan the shelves for what else we need. I’m really watching Blade. The way those jeans hug his ass. The way the veins in his hands flex when he lifts something heavy. The way his neck looks when he tilts his head. Those tats and smooth skin are things I shouldn’t be thinking about.
The sound of his voice, grunting and coming last night, still echo in my head, and I want to jam a knife in my eye. I shouldn’t have stayed and listened. Shouldn’t have looked to see what I can’t unsee. But I did. And now I’ll never forget.
