Page 12 of Ink

“The water felt soothing, like a warm hug. I was trying not to let my anxiety go wild.”

I strip off my clothes and climb into the water behind her, sinking into the well of heat. The tub is small, but we make it work. “Good girl keeping yourself calm. I’m proud of you.”

She leans her head back against my chest and I hold her close, taking in the scent of the soap that claims to be unscented. It’s not floral or fruity, rather a refreshing clean scent that’s undistinguishable, but it’s there.

We’ll stay here for a while until I know Reaper is good and gone.

I don’t love that I took matters into my own hands. I’d have preferred to talk it out, make sense of things, come to an agreement. But some people are beyond reasoning with, and Dillon is one of them.

Men like me stay outcasts for a reason. We don’t give second chances, we don’t fuck around, and we don’t allow anyone to hurt the people we love.

Knowing Bunny and that baby are safe is all I need to know. Everything else is background noise.

Chapter Five

Lydia

I never use sick days. In fact, I haven’t used one in years. They’re a bad precedent to set to the students. They show up every day for me, so I show up every day for them. The end. I don’t even use vacation time outside of school breaks. Maybe it’s a control issue. The thought of someone else taking over my classroom for the day doing God knows what is nerve-wracking.

Mrs. Brown, the teacher next door, had a substitute last year, and she told the whole class the Earth was flat. It took her weeks to explain why that wasn’t true. Weeks. Kids are insanely impressionable.

I roll to the edge of the bed and notice Ink is already up for the day. I don’t know what’s happening between us. We’re masturbating on countertops, we’re showering together, and today he talked about spending the day in the garden. Apparently, the peppers are ready for harvest.

I want this life so badly. The one where I have a little garden of my own and a big man who wants to keep me safe, but I can’t figure if any of this is real. I mean, maybe we’re both sucking in carbon monoxide right now. It’s the only logical conclusion to Ink jerking off to my picture last night.

I grab my phone off the end table and read over my texts. They’re all from Mable and they’re all nosey as hell.

Mable: Fuck him yet?

Mable: Come on… tell me!

Mable: I need details! Is it big? Tell me it’s huge.

Mable: I have to spend all day in the barn with my father. I think this might be hell.

Mable: Where are you? I need to know what’s happening.

Me: Hey, girl. No dicks. Just a bear and some gunshots. It was a long night. Tell your dad what you want. We talked about this.

Mable: Bear and gunshots? What? And no… my father would tie me to the rafters before he let me leave here.

Me: It’s a long story.

Mable: You owe me two long stories. You know that, right?

The scent of coffee and bacon wafts from the kitchen.

Mable: Oh, did you see that Dillon’s friend put out a missing person report on him? Apparently, he never came home last night.

Me: That’s not really weird, is it? The dude is always missing.

Mable: Yeah, well, I guess his friend thought it was weird. If you hear from him, you should probably let someone know. He follows you closest, so…

Me: Will do. I’ll message you later. There’s bacon cooking.

Mable: Stop teasing me!

Me: Love you! XOXO.