Thicker than Blood (33 page)

Dropping back down onto the mattress, I
tucked my legs beneath me, overly aware of my nakedness, but not
ashamed enough to do anything about it. “Why did you do that?” I
asked quietly, my voice hoarse.

“You needed it,” he said, and shrugged. “You
were pissed off, hurting too, and about to use me to make you feel
better.”

“Would that have really been so awful?” I
asked, feeling bewildered. “Having sex with me? Because I thought
that’s where we’ve been heading…”

God, listen to me. Two weeks ago, I would
have never had the courage to ask such a question. In fact, just a
few days ago I was shying away from stripping down at the entry
gate. Now, look at me. Either Purgatory and all its sins were
starting to corrupt me, or I was just that damn angry, hungry, and
exhausted from…everything.

I decided on the latter, figuring it would
take more than two days to corrupt someone. Or at least hoping that
was the truth.

Sighing, Alex scrubbed a hand across his
scruffy jaw. His stubble was more of a beard now, something I’d
never liked on men before, but on Alex, I liked it very much.

“I’ve wanted to be with you for years,” he
said, meeting my eyes. “And now I have you, you’re all mine,
Leisel.” Lifting his brow, he looked at my wrist, where his brand
shone dark against my pale skin. His lips twitched as a small,
satisfied smile appeared. “And your first time with me isn’t going
be some bullshit screw.” He lifted his eyes to meet mine.

Three things were going through my mind in
that very moment. First, had Alex just told me he’d wanted to be
with me for years? And if that was the case, was that why he’d
helped me escape?

Second, what was with his “You’re all mine”
caveman-type nonsense?

And third, if I’d known how to swoon
properly, I would have been swooning. It may have been crudely said
and more than a little chauvinistic, but it had been said all the
same.

He wanted our first time to mean
something.

I’d been right about him. There was always a
reason, always a carefully constructed plan of action forming
behind his dark eyes.

“I like you,” I told him, and reached for
him. Cupping his cheek, I pulled him forward and kissed him gently
on the mouth. It was Alex who deepened the kiss, slowly pushing me
back until I was lying flat on the bed with him propped up over
me.

“I love you,” he said, and then, before I
could respond or do much of anything other than gasp at his words,
he kissed me. It was a deep kiss, a very thorough kiss, a kiss that
made my body go soft and weak beneath him. It was a kiss that made
me forget about my anger, my hunger…my everything.

He broke our kiss and I relaxed into him,
suddenly content with simply holding him. Content with simply being
near him. I didn’t love him, not in the way I’d loved Thomas, but
then again, the world had been different then, and I had been
different too. This was the new world, full of fast-paced living
because there were no more guarantees, no rainbow to reach the end
of. There would be no one to jump out and exclaim, “Surprise!
You’re on
Candid Camera
!
Sorry for scaring the shit out of you and making you suffer for the
past four years!”

This was all we had, this right here and
right now. So I decided in that moment that it didn’t matter how
much or in what way that I loved Alex, only that some part of me
did.

• • •

“Where are you taking me?” I asked Alex. Jogging
through the throng of people gathered outside as he pulled me along
with him, I was struggling to keep up. My legs were much shorter
than his, so I had to work twice as hard just to keep from being
dragged on the ground behind him.

“You’ll see,” he said, glancing at me over
his shoulder and grinning.

Another grin. How many was that now? Two,
three?

His smiles, the genuine ones, and his
full-fledged grins, were a sight to behold. They were so few and
far between, causing his hard features to soften, giving him this
overall youthful and playful look. They made me feel giddy and
excited, especially when they were directed at me, or because of
me.

Was this what happiness was like? It had been
so long since I’d experienced any form of it, so long since I’d
known what it was like to simply clutch the hand of a man, to see
him smile at me and find myself returning that smile. Was this how
it had been with Thomas?

I tried to remember, to wade through the last
four years of muddied horrors back to when I’d been married. I
remembered our first kiss, the day he’d proposed, the day we were
married, the day we found out I couldn’t have children and he’d
held me so tightly while I cried. Thomas had rocked me, soothed me,
told me that it didn’t matter, that I was all he’d ever need.

Had his smiles made my belly flutter? Yes,
they had. Did the warmth of his hand on mine spread throughout my
entire body? Yes, it had.

It was an odd sort of sensation, this sliver
of happiness that had been thrust so unexpectedly into my lap, and
along with it had come twinges of guilt as well, as if I were
somehow betraying Thomas by falling for another man.

But I shook those feelings away because if
Thomas had known all I’d endured, if he’d known what Lawrence had
done to me, or even had a glimpse of what the world was today, he
would never begrudge me something that made me smile, that melted
the ever-present cold inside me. He’d been a great man, a kind man,
a man who’d put others’ needs and wants before his own. He’d been a
man…like Alex.

Many times I’d already compared the two men,
Thomas and Alex, more or less hoping that Thomas would approve of
Alex, maybe even like him. But the more I thought about Thomas,
remembering exactly the kind of man he’d been, the more I knew I
was no longer just hoping.

Thomas would have liked him, simply because
Alex made me happy.

I was still smiling, oblivious to the people
shoving past me, to the incessant shouting that seemed to come from
every corner of this place, reminiscent of a twenty-four-hour
carnival. There was so much noise, too much noise, but today it
didn’t bother me or leave me feeling like a lowly sheep among
prized cattle. Today I was smiling.

He finally came to a stop at the far end of
the complex, outside a small but colorful awning with heavy flaps
hanging down on all sides, hiding whatever was within. Alex gripped
a tent flap, about to pull it open when a man appeared beside us. I
recognized him instantly, remembered he was one of several
bartenders from the club last night.

“What’s up, man?” He offered Alex his hand,
and Alex dropped mine in order to shake it.

They were roughly the same size, Alex being
just a tad taller with a good half inch more muscle mass. They even
appeared to be around the same age, both in their early twenties,
but whereas Alex was tanned, his hair and features dark, this man
was dirty blond, his skin as pale as mine.

“She’s yours, yeah?” the man asked, jerking
his chin in my direction.

Alex dropped the man’s hand. “Yeah,” he said
gruffly, his carefree demeanor dissipating.

“Heard you got two of ’em,” the man
continued. “And if the other one can dance half as good as this
one, I was thinking you might be interested in having ’em do a
private show for some of the guys. Figured you wouldn’t be opposed
to some girl-on-girl action. Ain’t no one going to be touching
either of them, not with your mark on ’em.”

My smile fell away, disgust causing the
warmth inside me to quickly cool. The bitter realization hit me
that no matter how much happiness I could eke out for myself,
nothing could ever truly block out the sad state of the world
around me.

“Fuck off,” Alex said, his tone low, yet
deadly. “Fuck off right now, asshole.”

Neither Alex’s anger nor his warning seemed
to faze this man. In fact, he smiled and shook his head.

“You’re a greedy son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
He shrugged. “No offense meant, man. I’m just a guy looking to fill
some time. Ain’t got nothing but time to fill these days.”

“
Fill it with somebody else,” I snapped,
drawing the attention of both men to me. I glared at the blond man,
hoping the disgust I felt was being properly conveyed. “I’m not
a
plaything
,” I
continued, still seething. “I’m a woman, a person! Didn’t you have
a family? A mother? A sister? A girlfriend? How would you feel if
they were being passed around like…like…like cans of creamed
corn?”

The man’s mouth opened and closed, as if he
were trying to decide on what to say next, yet couldn’t quite find
the words. “Like I said,” he eventually replied, his eyes dancing
with amusement. “No offense meant. I wouldn’t share you either.”
His gaze flickered between Alex and me one last time, and then he
headed off in the direction we’d come.

“Creamed corn?” Alex asked, raising his
brow.

I shrugged. “I was thinking of Eve, holding
on to that stupid can. I don’t know, it just popped into my
head.”

Still thinking of Evelyn, of the last thing
I’d said to her before she’d left the room, I squeezed my eyes
closed. It was a horrible lie born from anger, and I was intensely
frustrated with myself.

“I need to find her,” I said, opening my
eyes. “I need to apologize.”

Alex nodded. “We will. She’s fighting today.
We can head over to the arena soon. But first, I have a present for
you.”

After taking my hand, he pulled open the tent
flap, revealing what seemed to be a small clothing shop. Hangers
fitted with dresses and skirts ran across a rope that had been
fitted to encircle the entire space. Neatly folded stacks of shirts
and pants were piled on miscellaneous end tables and chairs, while
pairs of shoes in all colors and sizes were tucked away in every
corner.

“Ah! Alex, my boy!” a woman cried out, poking
her head out from behind a small, squat dresser. She jumped to her
feet and clapped her hands together. “I cleaned them just like you
wanted!”

Smirking, Alex pulled me forward. “Lei, this
is—”

“Grannie!” the woman practically shouted.

As she stepped out from behind the dresser, I
took in her long and colorful shift, which was obviously handmade.
It looked like a patchwork quilt turned into a dress, complete with
randomly placed buttons and glittering sequins. And an equally
colorful scarf had been wrapped haphazardly around her neck amid
nearly a dozen necklaces.

She was an older woman, plump but not fat,
and if I had to guess I would have figured her to be in her
sixties. Her long gray hair was piled neatly on top of her head in
a tight bun, showcasing the numerous dangling earrings she was
wearing.

Extending an arm in my direction, she wiggled
her hand, causing the array of bracelets she wore to shake and
jingle. Smiling, I took her hand in mine.

“Everyone calls me Grannie!” she continued
excitedly, pumping my arm up and down. “And I have something
special just for you!”

Releasing me, she hurried back to the dresser
and disappeared behind it. I glanced up at Alex, wondering what on
earth he’d done, but he refused to look at me.

“Ta-da!” Grannie sang as she leaped out from
behind the dresser, holding in her hands a pair of pink fuzzy
slipper boots.

My mouth fell open. Despite Grannie having
said she’d cleaned them, they were still dirty and stained, the
pink faded to a peachy sort of color. There were obvious holes that
I could see, and small patches where the fur was missing entirely.
And they were absolutely perfect.

“Oh my God,” I breathed, bringing my hand to
my mouth. “Oh my God.”

“Happy birthday…?” Alex said. “Or Merry
Christmas? Whatever,” he finished almost shyly.

I glanced from him to Grannie and back to
him. “But we didn’t bring anything to trade.”

“Now, now,” Grannie said, thrusting the boots
into my hands. “That’s all taken care of. You see, I’m a betting
woman and I’ll be betting on Alex tonight. He’s promised me a win,
and in return, I’ve given him a five-finger discount on anything in
the shop.”

“You heard her,” Alex said, still not looking
at me. “Go pick some stuff out. For you and Eve.”

I gaped at him, shaking my head. “When did
you do all this?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Met Grannie
outside the Drunk Tank, got to talking…”

“Come, come!” Grannie urged excitedly. “Let
me show you what I’ve got for a pretty girl like you.”

Still smirking, Alex rolled his eyes. “I’ll
be outside,” he said, and moved to turn. I grabbed his arm before
he could leave, pulling him back to me. Juggling the slipper boots
in one arm, I attempted to hug him with the other.

“Thank you,” I whispered, feeling overcome.
“I don’t know what to say, or what to do.”

Running his hand through my hair, he tugged
gently, lifting my face. “You can thank me later,” he said quietly.
“Tonight. After I win that fight.” Then he grinned.

“
That’s four,” I said, grinning
back.
Or was
it three?

“Four what?” he asked, and I shrugged.

“Never mind.”

Evelyn

“So you want to trade, do you, Wildcat?” he asked,
his tone languid yet laced with amusement. Leaning back against a
brick wall, the man crossed his arms over his chest. His eyes
dropped from my face to the can I held, then back up to my face
again.

We both knew we weren’t talking about food.
This was so much more than a simple trade; this was me doing what
I’d always done to wash away the pain, the stress, the never-ending
disappointments. Using my body, letting others use it as well, to
fill the hole, to ease the ache. It was all I’d known for so long
now, and I found myself easily slipping back into that role, like
an old friend I hadn’t seen in some time.