I parted my lips and coaxed hers open, swallowing her air to keep my lungs working. Her moan was small and delicate as she swung her leg over my hips.
“Is this okay? Are you …” She started to ask if I was okay, if my mental state could keep it up, but she didn’t have to. The past week had been sexless and cold. But now, I needed it, proven hot and hard against her hips, practically begged for a distraction, a release, anything but the worries flurrying around in my head like the snow glittering the sky. Words wouldn’t form on my tongue, it had other things in mind, but I gripped her ass in my desperate hands and pressed her to me until she groaned and devoured my mouth again with a gentle nod of her head.
The open fly of my pajama pants proved to be little hinderance as I pulled Audrey’s underwear to the side. We fitted together easily, so comfortably tight and warm, and I sighed with the relief of coming in from the bitter cold. If I had allowed myself to think too much, I would’ve hated myself for needing sex so badly, while my brother was fighting for his life, but I couldn’t let myself think that. Not when this was too good, too soothing, and too necessary for my sanity, as I let her use my body however she wanted. I stared up into her blue eyes, dipping into their oceans and streams to float serenely on my back, until they closed and so did mine. I wondered about her neighbors and parents, and how much they could hear, as I was forced to cry out and her hand clapped over my mouth.
Audrey giggled like we were younger and this was forbidden, taking her hand away from my lips and leaning forward to press her mouth to my ear. “I love you, Blake,” she whispered, her words broken with the impact of her climax. “I love you so much, I forget to breathe sometimes.”
I pulled in the scent of her hair and nodded, kissing her cheek and her chin and finally her lips. “I know the feeling.”
“I feel like I should be scared of this,” she whispered, now resting her head on the pillow behind my head, her body still covering mine.
“Why?” I threaded my fingers between hers and kissed her knuckles, her palm, her wrist. Just to touch her and remind myself of her warmth and life, to hold onto when I felt cold and so alone in the solitary confines of my tomb of a house.
“Because I know this is it for me, and I don’t know if you feel the same way.”
My eyes met hers in the darkness. “What if I said I didn’t?”
She swallowed hard and gripped my fingers. “I’d still love you, anyway.”
I chuckled and shook my head, still unsure of how someone could love me so much. Hell, not even my own mother could manage. “You’re something else, you know that?” I laughed, kissing her again.
A thoughtful sound vibrated against my lips before she asked, “So, then what am I?”
“You’ll laugh if I said it.”
“I promise I won’t.”
Sighing, I rolled my eyes to the ceiling and lifted a shoulder. “Maybe you’re my angel.”
I expected a giggle, or even hysterical laughter, but all I heard was that noise again. Thoughtful and contemplative. “Sent to Earth to save you?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Maybe.”
“You were the better twin to save Jake, and I was the better twin to save you.”
“Maybe we’re the surviving twins,” I found myself saying, and my voice caught in my throat, unable to believe I’d say the words aloud, “to save each other.”
Audrey nodded. “That sounds more likely to me. But that’d make you an angel, too.”
I laughed. “Well, now we know it’s all bullshit.”
“Not necessarily.” She laid her head down, finding a comfortable place for her forehead against my temple. Her yawn was infectious and I wrapped my arm around her, accepting the luring hand of sleep. “Remember, Lucifer was an angel, too.”
Snorting as my eyes drifted shut, I muttered, “So, I’m the devil now.”
“Maybe, Kiefer,” she said, using the nickname I had once found lame but now loved, “but whatever you are, you’re mine.”
“Yeah, I am,” I agreed, sighing contentedly and wrapping my other arm around her shoulders, “and I’m not going anywhere.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“ARE YOU SURE you don’t want me to come with you?” Audrey worried as she got ready for work. She buttoned a white cardigan over her teal camisole and added, “I mean, it’s just one day. It’d be okay for me to call out sick.”
I shook my head, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “Stop, I’m fine.” And, I actually meant it, too. After sleeping well for a solid seven hours, I now felt prepared to face what awaited me at home. But Audrey clearly wasn’t convinced, turning her bright blue eyes on me while she chewed her bottom lip with disdain.
“I just feel really bad making you go alone.”
“Don’t feel bad,” I assured her, unraveling my arms and stepping forward to kiss her forehead. “Go to work. I’ll be here when you get back.”
Guilt washed away the worry. “Blake, if you really want to go to the hospital, then—”
“No,” I stopped her, pressing my lips again to her forehead. “I’ll go tomorrow. You were right; I need one freakin’ day outside of that room.”
So, after Audrey left for work, I got into my car and headed across town through a path of dead leaves and speckles of snow leftover from the night before. Pulling into my driveway felt like a slice of déjà vu from a past life, and I swallowed at the worry that maybe I couldn’t do this after all.
The door opened with a groan and the floors welcomed me with untimely whispers. I swept my gaze over the living room, taking in Jake’s Legos and stacks of puzzles and movies, and the exhale that came from my mouth felt like my last. It left me empty and starved for air in that shell of a room, and I hurried to my bedroom to find my breath.
Behind the closed door, I set to work, grabbing clothes from my closet and stuffing them into a duffel bag I hadn’t used since college but had kept anyway. I wasn’t sure how long to pack for, and how long I’d be at Audrey’s place, so I mindlessly shoved in as many clothes as the bag would hold. Then, I scurried around the room, grabbing miscellaneous things I’d been missing over the week, when my hand brushed against the information pamphlet I’d been given at Shady Acres, still standing on my drafting table. It stopped me in my tracks and I stared at the smiling faces of their residents as I remembered my parents’ plans.
Whether he woke up or not, Jake would be leaving anyway.
“Son of a bitch,” I muttered, snatching the smooth piece of paper from the table. My eyes bore through the crisp letters and vibrant colors as I repeated, louder this time, “Son of a fucking bitch.”
It came on quick, the tornado that began in my gut and moved its way to my heart. A swirling frenzy of rage and despair, unleashed through my hands as I crumpled the pamphlet and chucked it across the room. It was too light to go far, and fluttered to the floor only a few feet away. That wasn’t good enough. I needed more, and controlled by my blinding emotions, I picked a book up from a nearby shelf and threw it at the opposite wall. It made impact, rattling the window and leaving a scuff mark. I picked up another.