Vigil (33 page)

He nodded. He headed for his adjoining bathroom.

I followed him.

He stopped in the doorway. “Are you going to…”

“Oh,” I said. “I just assumed that you wouldn’t mind if I… But if it’s not cool, then I’ll just wait and…”

“I
don’t
mind,” he said. “But I assumed you wouldn’t want…”

We were quiet again.

Suddenly, he pulled me tight against him. He kissed me on the forehead. “Do you want to take a shower with me?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Even after…” He took a shaky breath. “When we were down there, I had a moment. I was tempted. You were tied up on that table, and you were almost naked, and I thought about taking you. About…”

I swallowed hard. “But you didn’t do it.”

He let go of me. “You shouldn’t even be around me right now.”

I reached for him. “You’re the only person I
can
be around right now. You’re the only person that can possibly understand what I’m feeling.”

He dragged a hand over his face. “Cecily, you don’t know what went through my head. I’m just like him. He was right. He and I are the same.”

“You’re not,” I said. “You’re not, because you didn’t
do
it. Thinking about something and doing something are different.”

He was agonized. “But what if I—”

“You won’t,” I said.

I pushed past him, into the bathroom. I went over the shower and turned on the water. I busied myself with testing the temperature.

I spoke at the gushing water. I didn’t look at him. “I trust you, Callum. I trust that you’re good. I know you. And something very
not
good just happened to me. He didn’t rape me, but he…
touched
me. And…” I fought tears. “I just want water running over me. I want your hands on me. And I want it all washed away.”

At first he didn’t respond.

But then he was behind me, his hands gentle as he helped me undress.

I turned back to him, peeling off the rest of his costume.

And then we were both nude.

We stepped under the shower head. Callum winced as the water hit his cuts. But he also sighed in relief. In pleasure. And I had to admit that the water felt nice.

I picked up soap, and I began scrubbing the dried blood off of him.

“Why?” he said. “Why do you trust me? Why do you think I’m good?”

I kept scrubbing at the blood. “Because of what you do. Because you saved girls. You didn’t hurt them. Because you’ve never hurt me. And because I’ve fallen for you so completely and utterly, and I couldn’t love you this much if you weren’t good.”

He shut his eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He took the soap from me. “Okay.” He began to soap up my back.

I pressed my body against his, my breasts into his chest. I kissed him.

He sighed, hands sliding over my back, slippery from soap. His mouth was wet and slippery too.

My nipples tightened against him. My body was waking up.

His was too. I could feel his cock lengthening and thickening against one of my legs.

He broke the kiss, turning away from me, setting the soap on a ledge. “Sorry.”

I turned him back to face me. “Don’t be.”

His gaze flitted down over my naked body. “Cecily, after what happened to you—”

“I know,” I said. “And maybe this is fucked up, but I don’t care.” I reached down between his legs and wrapped my hand around him.

He groaned.

I stroked him. He stiffened at my touch, growing hard and long.

He gasped. He raised his hands to cup my breasts.

I moaned, pleasure surging through me.

He kissed me. He pushed me back into the slick, smooth wall of the shower.

Now our bodies were pressed together. I nudged my tongue into his mouth, and I lifted one of my legs, pressing my sex against his cock.

He groaned again.

“Please,” I whispered. “I want to wash it away.”

“Cecily, you know I can’t…”

But he was slipping inside me.

I pushed with my hips, angling, taking more of him.

It was an awkward angle, but he was big enough that it worked, even if the penetration was a little shallow.

He grasped my thighs, held me in place.

We looked into each other’s eyes for a few moments.

He tried a tentative thrust.

I moaned. It felt good to have him inside me. I felt connected—one with him. And when he moved, it sent little earthquakes all though me.

He thrust again. Deeper this time.

It was magnificent. I threw my head back, sighing.

His hands went under my ass. He lifted me, settling my legs around his hips and bracing me against the shower wall.

His next thrust went even deeper, piercing the center of me, priming my pleasure.

“Yes,” I whispered.

He let out a long, shuddering sigh. “I don’t believe I’m doing this.”

I stroked his forehead. “Of course you are. And you’re doing a very good job.”

He chuckled. He kissed my eyebrow, and he picked up the pace, rhythmically plunging in and out of me.

It felt so, so good. I wrapped my legs tight around him. I ran my hands over his body, cupping his ass, urging him on.

He moaned. He buried my face in my shoulder.

Then, “
Shit
.”

“Shit?” I repeated.

“I’m not wearing a condom.”

“I know that,” I said. “It’s okay.”

“It is?” He looked unsure.

I nodded.

He swallowed. Then he kissed me. “You’re right. It is. This isn’t a fling. This is something real. I’m willing to take risks. Accept consequences.”

I grabbed his face, one hand on each of his cheeks. “Stop talking serious and fuck me, Callum.”

He laughed.

I kissed him while he was laughing, and his laughter filled both of our mouths, bubbling up, searing into me. I needed the joy to wipe away the darkness.

Our bodies slid against each other, sweet, sleek, and a little soapy.

He filled me, spearing me deeply, barraging me with bliss as I opened to him, as I surrounded him, accepted him, took him into me.

His cock found the center of my pleasure, teased it, coaxed it, nudged it. And I rode the sensation until I was teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

Everything seemed to blur together. The hot water pounding into our bare flesh. The slippery walls of the shower. His warm, wet body moving against me and inside me. I struggled for breath. I was lost to the rapture that was just out of my reach.

“I’m going to come,” I managed.

“Me too,” he said in a strained voice. “Should I… should I pull out?”

What? The first shocks of it were traveling up my thighs. I could hardly understand what he was saying.

But then I felt him start to disengage. I stopped him, held him in place.

“No,” I gasped. “No, it’s okay. I’m on birth control.”

He let out a ragged moan, grabbed onto my hips and stabbed me deep and hard.

Our releases came in seconds of each other. I felt his tremors inside me at the same time as my own climax was pulsing through me.

I’d never felt such togetherness. My pleasure twined with his, both growing and grasping for the sunlight before bursting into fireworks of blossoms, flowering and exploding and showering us both with euphoria.

His mouth found mine, sweet and soft. I dragged my tongue against his.

And we were joined. Completely.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

“So, was this benefit your idea or Callum’s?” said Airenne. She was holding a recorder in my face, and we were standing in the corner at the Darlene Perry Memorial Gala. She was interviewing me for
Bold!

“It was a tag team effort,” I said. “Obviously, it’s named after my friend.”

“Who was brutally murdered by The Phantom, correct?”

“That’s right,” I said.

“So, in your own words, tell me who exactly this gala benefits and why.”

“We’re raising money for a newly formed foundation,” I said. “Callum and I have created it, and its job is to give girls who are faced with the choice of working as exotic dancers other options. It’s basically a scholarship program, but it’s more than that. It pays not only for college tuition, but for room and board and living expenses. It really is designed to give girls who don’t usually get one a fighting chance.”

“Wow,” said Airenne. “That’s really amazing. And close to your heart, I suppose, given your own history?”

“Absolutely,” I said. It was kind of fun to interact with Airenne like this, both of us putting on our best professional faces.

“Well, speaking of college, your senior year begins in just a few weeks, doesn’t it? Are you leaving the fair city of Aurora?”

I laughed. Airenne already knew the answers to these questions. She just had to get my answers down on tape so that she could write her article. “No, I’m not leaving.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” said Airenne. “Everyone would miss you.”

“I’ve transferred to a local university,” I said. “And I’m going to continue as an intern for
The Sun-Times
.”

“Right,” she said. “I imagine they wouldn’t let you go after you broke that amazing story about The Phantom.”

I shrugged. “They seem to like me there. I like them too.”

“Most of the stories you wrote were about Vigil. But we haven’t heard anything about Vigil in quite some time. Do you know what’s happened to him?”

Ooh. That wasn’t something she and I had talked about. Surprise question. “Vigil decided to retire,” I said.

“Really?”

I nodded. “He was after The Phantom, and he got his man.”

“So no more Vigil?”

“No more Vigil.”

“Do you think the city still needs him?” she asked.

A tough question. “Well… I don’t know if Vigil is really up for any more work. I think he’s content to leave it to the police.”

“But he said that the police were corrupt.”

“I think things are changing.” I raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think this is getting a little heavy for a fashion magazine?”

“Not a fashion magazine,” she said. “It’s a
women’s
magazine.”

“Whatever,” I said.

“My editor made me promise to ask about Vigil.”

“Okay, well you have. So, let’s move on.”

She sighed. “You always get weird whenever anyone brings up Vigil.”

“I do not,” I said.

“Tell me the truth,” she said. “Deep down, he was actually like a big creep, right? I mean, what kind of guy would dress up like that?”

“He wasn’t a creep,” I said. “Next question.”

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Um, next year, you’ll be going to school full time and working part time at the newspaper. Do you anticipate having any trouble making time for your relationship?”

My gaze flitted across the room, seeking out Callum, who was holding a glass of champagne and talking easily to the other guests. “No, I don’t think so.”

“You two are very happy together, aren’t you?”

He looked up to see me gazing at him. His face broke out into a big grin.

I smiled too. “We are.”

* * *

Callum and I stood outside the padded cell where Hayden was being kept. I’d been summoned by one of the orderlies.

Callum and I were both concerned with the amount of information that Hayden knew, and to try to keep a lid on it, I’d asked the orderly to contact me if Hayden ever said anything about knowing the identity of Vigil. I’d said it was for a story, of course, and I’d given the orderly some money.

The orderly had called me not ten minutes ago, saying that Hayden was raving about knowing who Vigil was under the mask.

Once Callum had heard that, he’d insisted on coming along.

We peered through the glass square window in Hayden’s door. It was fairly large, and we could see his entire room clearly. I guess that they weren’t particularly concerned about privacy here.

Hayden was twirling around in the middle of the room, hugging himself. He’d suffered a fracture to his skull when Vigil had slammed his head into the floor, and there had been a lot of swelling on his brain. Doctors weren’t sure if there was damage to his brain, or how extensive it was. With injuries like that, it was a waiting game.

But Hayden had recovered enough to be placed in Chilton, at least until his trial.

The evidence against him was overwhelming. There was no doubt he’d be found guilty of his crimes as The Phantom.

Abruptly, Hayden stopped spinning.

He stared at us through the window. His head had been shaved, and his hair hadn’t quite grown out yet. He was sneering, giving him the look of a psychotic baby bird.

“Hello,” he said, his voice muffled through the glass. “I have a secret.”

He didn’t seem to recognize us. Or if he did, he wasn’t letting on.

“You do?” I said.

He nodded. “Do you want to know what it is?”

“I would like to know that,” I said.

Hayden grinned, his lips pulling back from his teeth—making his smile more of a grimace. “It’s about Vigil.”

“Is it? What do you know about Vigil.”

“I know who he is under the mask.”

My heart sped up. I turned to Callum, who’d gone white. We’d had a discussion about this. He decided it wasn’t the end of the world if Hayden unmasked him now, considering that he had retired, put up his mask and costume. He didn’t have any reason to be Vigil anymore.

His brother Hayden was contained. He no longer hurt any girls.

And he didn’t have problems with me in bed anymore. At first, we’d had a few missteps, but I’d been right. All he needed was practice.

So Callum said it was okay if Hayden told. But I could see now that he really didn’t want that to happen.

“Who is he?” I asked, looking straight at Hayden.

“Underneath his mask, Vigil is…” Hayden spread his arms wide. “Erik. The Angel of Music. The Red Death.” He laughed like a hyena, throwing back his head.

Callum and I exchanged a look.

“Vigil is the Opera Ghost!” crowed Hayden.

He’d confused Vigil with the title character from
The Phantom of the Opera
. He’d lost it. He was completely out there. Crazy.