26. BUNNY

The sun is rising by the time we get back to The Honeymoon Inn. Thankfully, the rain stopped hours ago, but the freezing temperature kept us wet. Any blood that may have been left on me has long been washed away, something I'm grateful for when we step through the front door of the motel.

Susie glances up over her computer, ready to greet a new resident with a casual tilt of her lips, but when she grasps that it"s us walking back through the door, looking deranged and disheveled from the rain, that smile falls right off.

"What on God's green earth happened to you two?!" She rounds the desk with a brisk walk, standing before us with a bewildered and disapproving expression. Before either of us can come up with a convincing lie, she takes us both by the arms and drags us into her cramped office.

"Okay," she starts, eyes wide and uncertain as she begins to pace. Cade and I stand there, mute and apprehensive about what she's about to say. We can see the struggle written all over her face, which only makes us exchange an uneasy glance.

After a few deep breaths and the occasional glance our way, her pacing finally stops.

"I need you to tell me what the fuck is going on. I have two children walk into my motel, lookin' as if they just escaped hell. A man in a suit—men in suits don't stay here—comes looking for you both, and then you disappear! Only to come back looking like…this!"

Huffing, she stuffs her hand into her pocket, coming out with a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. The flame shakes as it nears the waiting smoke, giving away the worry she's carried since our arrival.

I can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for making Susie so distressed. It isn't something I'm used to—having someone care. Before I can give in to the urge to apologize, Cade steps in, with no room for argument or conversation in his tone.

"It's nothing you need to worry about. We'll leave now. Thank you for all your help." Taking me by the hand, Cade starts to stride us out, ignoring Susie's calls until the final one.

"There is blood on your pants."

Time slowing, I look down at Cade's too-big shoes, spotting the darkened evidence of what we've done specked on the cuff of his pants. Heaving underneath the weight of my stomach falling, I crush the bones of his hands in my grip. We got lost in the feeling of each other, counted on the rain to free us, and we never even bothered checking our fucking clothes for possible evidence.

Glaring into each other"s eyes, we silently argue about how to get out of this. What can we say? What excuse do we have? I can see he's about to utter some complete bullshit, when Susie calls him out on it.

"I have been more than generous with you two. So before you lie to me, I would strongly consider what I've done for you and what I could have done." She ends her statement with a glare at me, reminding me of how she lied to Marone.

How she protected us when she didn't have to.

That says something, doesn't it? I mean…protection from a stranger is more than we've ever gotten from the people who were supposed to care for us.

So many people were supposed to take care of us. Instead, everyone—everyone—has chosen to cause us harm. Susie gave us a roof. She gave us a shower, clothes, and a bed. She gave us our freedom…even if it was only for an extra day.

She gave us so much and I—I want to give her this. I want to take the weight of our history and trauma and dump it on someone so we don't have to carry it anymore. I want to release my guilt for surviving and celebrate that we took some of our power back. I took some of my dignity back…

With a final glance at the bloodstains, I lift my head proudly, praying to an entity I'm not sure is there that what I admit to Susie doesn't backfire on us.

* * *

After ensuring the door is locked and expelling a weighted exhale, I rest my spine against the wood and hold Cade's stare. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he asks, not telling me to stop, but making sure I'm strong enough to keep going.

"It's okay," I reassure, giving him the softest of smiles before collecting my thoughts.

It takes a minute, but then Cade grins for me, a quiet, "Go on, Bun," to push me to start from my beginning, leaving no detail unspoken… "Rip 'em to shreds." No name unmentioned.

I made sure I gave every sordid detail, holding Cade's stare for support every time I broke down. Susie listened without interruption, face remaining passive throughout the entire thing. I'm grateful there were no tears. I shed enough for the three of us, but I don't know how to handle the nothingness written across her expression.

I told her about the horrors. I shared the unfathomable torture that only the devil himself could act out. I recounted the tales of how our innocence and belief in the world shattered in a pile of body parts, semen, and blood, and still…she does nothing. I suppose that's better than running for the hills, screaming to call the police, but on who? Us? Or them?

Maybe that's where the silence comes from. Conflict.

Wondering in silence, she rises from her chair and walks to another door on the other side of the office. The tension is becoming too thick for us to handle when she pulls out two large black trash bags, and places them at our feet. We glance at the open tops.

Clothes.

"There's a small metal trash bin in the back." Her vague statement leaves Cade and I motionless in our seats, mouths slightly agape while attempting to piece together what she's getting at. She notices our confusion and takes pity on us with an exhausted chuckle.

"To burn those. One less trace of the two of you at that officer"s house."

It occurs to me then that we left hints of us all over that cabin, our fingerprints, probably some hair…spit that flew from our lips from all the yelling.

Fuck.

Before I can panic, Cade intertwines his fingers with mine, effortlessly flinging both of the trash bags over his shoulder. "Thank you." It's the first time he's come across as anything other than bleak with Susie. If I'm not mistaken, Cade sounds…hopeful.

There's a small flash that glimmers in her eyes as she gazes between the both of us, a twitch in her fingers that spasm to reach our way. She may have said nothing the entire time I recounted our pasts, but this stare says everything.

It says she'll help, that she won't turn us in.

That flash, it says she cares.

And that she's sorry.

And that's more than anyone else before.

* * *

The water flows above my head as quickly as blood poured from Lakens's neck. That's what I see when I close my eyes as I try to enjoy this shower.

At least this one doesn't make me feel filthy. If anything, my glow is a tad brighter than before.

Smiling, I open my mouth to the spray of the showerhead, relishing the taste until the door creaks. My lids shoot open on instinct, but fall closed after I make sure it's Cade who came in.

He wears an outfit as dashing as before, a slim buttoned black shirt and grey trousers that fit a little too loose. I thank whoever left their clothes behind. They've given me a sight I never want to miss.

"It's done," he declares, his voice low and raspy. I thank him for taking care of our clothes without opening my eyes and am met with the rough pads of his thumbs pressing into my hips.

I watch him then, with lids only slightly parted, undress and dip under the shower spray with me. He lets the stream racing from the ends of his hair fall over fluttering lashes into the crack of his mouth. Rising on my toes, I suck the cold flow from his lips.

Unlike our the moments before, there's no rush. There's not a guard walking back and forth through the halls, waiting to drag me back to a cell. There's not a dead body three feet away, reminding me that the longer I stay, the closer to another prison I'll be. I wrap my arms over Cade's neck and press my naked body against his, knowing, at least for right now, there's only us.

His scars, the ones I cascade my fingers over, are a reminder of the hard life he's been forced to live—the vicious man he's been forced to become. I can't ignore that, but he's also the same killer who folds his arms around my waist and kisses me with a tenderness only love can explain.

We don't say it.

God…I don't know if we ever will. If love is even something we believe in anymore. But I believe in this. I believe in the strength of his hold and the potency behind his kiss.

"My turn," he whispers, delicately rolling his lips over mine for a final, all-consuming kiss. Cade holds me still by my hips as he falls to his knees at my feet, holding me upright after he's stolen my stability. Water beating against my spine, I tangle my hands in his wet curls, massaging the wounds that still haven't healed on his scalp. The bruises and busted skin on our faces are exposed to everyone, but oh, there's so much more the world can't see.

"I'm going to kill him for this," I vow, as I brush my fingertip over a freshly scabbed gash. "And this," I add, eyeing the slow-healing bullet wound.

Tongue skimming over my throbbing clit, Cade responds with a grin, a promise of his own blowing against my heated skin. "I'll make sure you do, after I've delivered them to your feet."

"Promise?" I gasp, tenderly drawing him closer while running my fingers through his hair. I need to feel him. My body begs, hoping he understands my desire as he stares into my eyes.

His smile is torturous, as is the puff of air he blows across my heated center.

"Cade," I pant, shaking against his palms. Finally, sparing me of this torment, he drags his tongue over my opening, delicately proclaiming, "On my life."

It's a promise he meant literally, I learned eventually.

A promise he truly kept…until the end.