16. Fifteen

My brothers looked at me like I was a monster, and they were right. I was a monster. I wasn’t like them, driven to make the world better. I didn’t want to help people. Fuck people. I only wanted the people who hurt me to suffer.

I was as bad as the people my brothers hunted down to punish. Maybe they’d come to hunt me.

I turned away from them, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply. The room smelled like blood and ash, a scent that would’ve turned a normal person’s stomach. To me, it was a perfume. It felt right to have Harold’s blood on my hands, just as it’d felt right to saw through his neck. I knew I wasn’t supposed to kill him, but when he started bragging about how easy it was to do what he’d done, how no one cared what happened to crazy people like me, something in me snapped. I hadn’t been angry. If anything, I felt like I’d been thinking clearly for the first time in years as I sawed into his flesh. This wasn’t some temporary psychosis. It wasn’t schizophrenia, or the medication, or the trauma that made me do it. This was me, who I really was beneath all those things.

My shackles had fallen off and now the real monster was free.

I rolled my shoulders back and cracked my neck. “That’s better.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Xavier demanded, charging into the room.

I rolled my head to the side, looking at him with new eyes. My brothers and I had been built from the same raw material, but the past six years had changed me at a fundamental level. We no longer looked alike. Xavier looked…softer. Prettier. He had pretty, smooth skin and thick hair. His clothes were free of wrinkles and stains. Definitely not hand-me-downs like I wore. But the differences ran deeper than the surface, too. I could see it in his eyes. Fear. Vulnerability. Weakness.

I climbed down from Harold’s corpse and plucked the cigarette from between my lips, tapping the ash onto the floor. “Hello, Xavier.”

I didn’t greet Xander or River. River didn’t deserve an ounce of my attention after how he’d treated me the last time I saw him, and Xander… I wasn’t sure where we stood yet after what’d happened.

“There goes our only lead,” River said, folding his arms. “We needed him for information, Xion.”

I shrugged. “He didn’t have any.”

“How the fuck would you know?” River demanded.

“He’s probably right.” Xavier stepped further into the room, surveying the mess I’d made of Harold. “I told you the forum was totally anonymous. We haven’t lost anything now that he’s dead except our way in.” He looked at me.

I didn’t care what they’d lost. I was starting not to care about Harold at all. Every time I looked at Xander or Xavier, there were sparks inside my brain, little glimmers of memories of the way things used to be. I was trying to hold it together, trying to remind myself that I didn’t need them, but coming face-to-face with my brothers was like staring at a missing part of myself. There was a part of me that longed to go to them, to put my arms around them and beg for forgiveness, but I knew I didn’t deserve it, and I couldn’t afford to let them think I was weak. Deep down, they were predators too.

“Fuck the job.” Xander shoved his way forward and stood in front of me. His eyebrows pinched together slightly as he looked me up and down.

I did the same to him, taking in his outfit with a frown. “Are you wearing heels?”

“They’re technically booties,” he said fluffing his hair and twisting his foot so I could see them better. “But yes, they have a heel. What are those?” He pointed at my feet.

I frowned at my dirty shoes. “Steel toed boots.”

“They’re very…” He rolled his hand, putting the other on his hip. “Functional.”

“Thanks, I think.”

“Excuse me,” River butted in. “Am I the only one who’s wondering what the fuck Xion is doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be lost?”

“Missing technically,” Xavier corrected. “But that wasn’t true either, was it?”

“No,” I said.

My brothers and I stared at each other in strange silence. My head was starting to pound, my mask of cool indifference faltering. Too much was happening too fast. I was still trying to process killing Harold. There wasn’t space in my head to decide how to deal with estranged family. It was too crowded in there, too hard to breathe. I needed to get out of that room before I threw up.

My head throbbing, I surged forward and pushed past them. I didn’t know where I was going until I found the bathroom to the right just outside the bedroom. I dove in and leaned against the door, breathing hard. My chest ached, and not just because I was having trouble breathing.

I pushed away from the door and went to turn on the sink. There was blood all over me. Harold’s blood. I didn’t look like myself. I looked…terrifying.

There was a knock at the bathroom door.

“Go away,” I growled.

The doorknob turned and Boone appeared. Of course that fucker wouldn’t listen to me. He slipped inside and closed the door behind him. “Are you okay, Pup?”

“Fine,” I ground out, staring at my unfamiliar bloody face in the mirror. Finally, the monster on the outside matched what I felt inside. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I turned on the sink .

“I put them to work dealing with the body,” he said, as if I cared what the fuck the Laskins did.

I stared at the water running down the drain, trying to will myself to scoop some of it up to clean the blood from my face, but my mind was racing. Too much had happened too fast, and I was struggling to keep pace with my own emotions.

Killing Harold should’ve made me feel better. Instead, Xander and Xavier had shown up at the worst time and ruined everything. Now I didn’t know how to feel. Seeing them again was all mixed up in what should’ve been my catharsis.

“You know,” Boone said quietly, moving away from the door, “it’s okay if you’re not okay, Xion.”

My jaw trembled. I was fine. I had to be fine. What other choice was there? Was he expecting me to break down like some fucking weak child? Why? Because I killed someone? Harold deserved what I’d done to him and worse. He deserved death by a thousand paper cuts. He deserved to be cut into a hundred pieces and buried where no one would ever find him. So why the fuck did I still feel so goddamn weak?

“Xion?” Boone put a hand on my shoulder.

I shrugged it off. “Leave me alone.”

But he didn’t, the stubborn asshole. His arms closed around me from behind and he pressed his warm body against mine in a gesture that was too tender, too much like sympathy.

I twisted in anger. “Why won’t you just fuck off and leave me alone?”

Boone shoved my fist away and stepped in, taking my face in his hands. “You don’t have to fight alone anymore. I’m right here with you.”

He shattered something inside me with those words. Walls that I had built thick and high came crashing down all at once, and so did I. Boone caught me and pulled my face to his chest while I sobbed. I didn’t know why I was crying, or why he was holding me, or why that felt so right when we were obviously so wrong for each other. Everything we had was built on manipulation and exploitation for money. Being this vulnerable in front of anyone should’ve destroyed me, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was so broken, so irreversibly fucked up, that I didn’t even know why he wanted me, but there he was, holding onto me.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, rubbing my back. “I’m right here, Pup.”

We sank to the floor, and he held me until I ran out of energy to sob. I don’t know how long that took. It could’ve been minutes, or all night. But he stayed, wrapped around me like a big protective blanket, combing his fingers through my hair and whispering promises to take care of me.

I laid against him, listening to his heartbeat, trying to will mine to sync with his. It didn’t feel like enough just to touch him anymore. There was a selfish side of me that demanded he prove what he was saying, even though he already had. Even after all this, I still needed more than words to believe in.

“You should get cleaned up, Pup,” he said softly and rose.

I stayed where I was on the cold floor, watching as he bent over to turn on the shower. Steam filled the air, but I couldn’t bring myself to move. A strange numbness throbbed at the center of my chest, spreading quickly through my body. I’d gone from feeling too much to not feeling enough, and it was giving me whiplash.

“I’ll get you a change of clothes,” Boone said and stepped past me to go to the door.

I grabbed him before he reached it, closing my fist around the hem of his shirt.

“I’ll just be a minute,” he promised.

I shook my head. “I don’t need to be clean. I need…”

Boone’s hands closed around mine and he pulled me gently to my feet where I swayed. “Tell me what you need, Pup, and it’s yours.”

I stared into his eyes, my skin suddenly on fire with the memory of unwanted touch. Harold might’ve been dead, but the memory of what he’d done remained. No matter how many showers I took, or how many people I killed, I’d never be able to wash that away. Not with water, and not with blood.

“I need you to touch me,” I whispered. “I don’t care if it’s not real. I need you to make me believe it is. I want to know what it feels like to be wanted, Boone. To belong somewhere. To someone.”

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” He glanced toward the door.

I yanked him closer, until my lips were right above his. “If you don’t make me yours right here, right now, I’m going to go even crazier than I already am. I don’t want to think any more. I just want to feel.”

I didn’t kiss him. I licked his lips like the wild animal I was. He caught my tongue between his teeth and sucked, making me groan into him.

Before I could second guess everything, I yanked my bloody t-shirt off in a desperate frenzy. We crashed back together, teeth and tongues colliding in a familiar battle that set my blood on fire, but this time I was determined to go further.

I didn’t know much about love, but I knew it wasn’t supposed to be like this, all brutal and wild. People in love didn’t claw at each other’s skin like we did, they didn’t rip and tear and bite until there were bruises. But we did. Not because I liked the pain, but because I needed the reminders to be there tomorrow of what we’d done. If I could’ve, I’d have tattooed his bruises on my skin so I’d never forget how he’d claimed me.

“Shower with me?” I panted against his lips.

I wanted more than a shower with him—a lot more—but I was still afraid, even if I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to get halfway through having sex and then freak out. That’d ruin everything. Maybe, if I could stand to be naked with him, I’d know for sure I could do more. He’d given me the perfect excuse to test the waters and see if I could handle more.

Boone frowned. “Pup…”

I took his hands and squeezed them. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He took a deep breath and lifted my finger from his lips, kissing the inside of my palm. “All right.”

I had a feeling he could see right through my excuse, though it was half true. I didn’t want to be alone with my own thoughts. Not yet. Not when they were so loud and scrambled.

Boone unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off.

Fuck, he was hot—and hard— and that red hair was everywhere on him. I wanted to run my hands and my nose through all of it. I took in the sight of him, waiting to feel even more afraid or uncomfortable, but that was starting to fade. He was still Boone. Still the man I wanted, and the man who wanted me. Maybe that would be enough.

I stripped off the rest of my clothes and quickly stepped into the shower, some of my nerves returning. The water hit me and I curled up, wrapping my arms tight around my middle and suddenly feeling more vulnerable than before.

Boone stepped in behind me and put his arms around me, planting a gentle kiss to my shoulders. He was being very careful not to let his cock touch me, but that wasn’t what I wanted. If I couldn’t handle this sort of contact, how was I ever going to do more?

Fuck, I was overthinking this. I needed to get out of my head and into the moment.

I turned around and put my hands on his hips. He didn’t resist when I pulled him closer, and when I kissed him, it was like he came alive again. Boone put his hands on my face and took charge, just like I hoped he would, guiding me through the kiss. I wouldn’t know what to do otherwise. I’d never kissed anybody but Boone, and now felt like a shitty time to bring that up.

We’d kissed before, but not like that. Not with nothing between us and our bodies slippery from sweat and the shower. It was different when we were naked because I could see how much he wanted more, how much he needed it.

And Boone wasn’t the only one. While the rest of me was buzzing with nerves, my cock throbbed and wept, begging for attention that Boone was pointedly not giving me. He wouldn’t either, not unless I initiated it.

My hand trembled as I reached to run my fingers over the smooth, velvety skin of his cock. I touched him tentatively at first, half afraid he’d stop me, but the more I did it, the braver I got until I had my hand around him, squeezing his shaft. At least I knew what to do with a cock. I took care of my own, after all. Boone was, admittedly, a little smaller than me—which I thought was actually kind of hot for some reason—but still average. Whatever average was. I guess I hadn’t really seen a lot of dicks. Most of the time, I was face down on a table when—

Don’t think about that. I caught my chest growing tight with worry and forced the thoughts away. After. I could think about that all after, but it wasn’t fair to Boone to bring all that in now.

Boone’s hand closed around my wrist and he kissed my cheek. “Promise you’ll tell me if it’s too much and you need to stop?”

I swallowed and nodded while wondering what he was planning.

Boone reached for the soap, slicking up his hands. His eyes locked on mine and I let out a small gasp as his hand closed around my length. Just having him touch me like that felt better than I ever expected it to, but he wasn’t done. He added his cock, too, and my knees almost gave out. The slick slide of his cock over mine inside his tight fist was heaven. Had anything ever felt so good? So right? This was what I was so afraid of?

He kissed me again, but this time I was so fucking turned on, I couldn’t even focus on doing it right. I licked his lips and started pumping into his fist like a dog in heat, desperate to get off. After a few seconds, I gave up on kissing. The height difference, the water, and whatever he was doing with our bodies was too much of a distraction, so I settled for holding onto him and staring down in wonder.

I was already panting, and the pressure was building. This wasn’t like jerking off alone in my room. It was so much hotter, and I was so much more out of control. That should’ve terrified me, but I didn’t care at all. I could just stand there and let him do everything and it would still feel so fucking good.

My breath came out rough and panting. “Boone I… I need…” I needed to come, and if he didn’t slow down, that was going to happen sooner rather than later, but I couldn’t get the words out.

His hand halted. “Do you need to stop?”

“No!” I closed my hand tightly over his and groaned. “I just really need to come.”

Boone chuckled and kissed me again softly, first on the lips and then on the jaw. “Take what you need from me, Pup.”

I groaned again and let my head roll forward to rest on his shoulder. Any thoughts I had about holding back disappeared as he let me thrust against him.

Boone kissed along my jaw and nibbled gently at my neck when I offered it. I wanted to give him everything, do this right, but I couldn’t focus on anything except how good he was making me feel. Maybe I was being selfish, but he seemed to be enjoying it too.

“So good,” he murmured, blunt nails scraping against my hips where he held onto me. “You feel so good, Pup.”

I shuddered as his words pushed me over the edge. My whole body throbbed with pleasure as I came with a cry, but it wasn’t enough. I had the strangest urge to sink my teeth into the meat of his shoulder, so I did.

Boone grunted, and I would’ve thought I was hurting him except he cupped one hand behind my head and pushed my face into his shoulder harder. “Fuck, yes! Bite down if you need to. Don’t you dare stop. Unh!”

Boone cried out and my cock gave another needy throb as I felt him start to come all over me. My face heated. I never in a million years would’ve thought I’d like the feeling of Boone making a complete mess of me, but I did. The only thing I liked more was seeing my teeth marks on his shoulder.

I traced my fingers over the mark while he fought to catch his breath.

“Goddamn,” he managed eventually, still panting. “God… damn.”

“Sorry if I hurt you,” I muttered, even though it wasn’t true. I wasn’t the least bit sorry, because that bite mark was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen on Boone. It made him mine.

“You didn’t hurt me, Pup.” He lifted my hand and kissed the inside of my wrist. “Are you okay?”

I nodded slowly, surprised to find I was. My head was floaty like I’d taken a heavy dose of medication, but clear, and the crushing feeling in my chest had finally let up. I was tired as fuck suddenly, but I couldn’t bring myself to let go of him. Feeling his skin against mine was the best sensation, even if we weren’t doing anything sexual.

I was still floating through my post-orgasm high as Boone pulled me into the water and started scrubbing me down with painfully gentle touches. Once he was finished washing my body, he massaged soap against my scalp.

I groaned, leaning against the wall. “Why do you put up with my shit, Boone?”

“What else am I gonna do?”

I caught him by the wrist. “I’m serious. I’m mean. I’m messy. I’m crazy as shit. Yet you’re always trying to take care of me, even when it hurts you. Why?”

He shrugged. “Maybe I’m a masochist. Or maybe I just believe a little kindness goes a long way.”

“Is that why you let me keep the collar I stole?”

He smirked and shut the water off. “That was selfish. I want you to wear it for me.”

I snorted and reached for the towel hanging on the hook. It smelled a little musty, but it was the only one I saw. “Do you plan on teaching me to sit pretty for you?”

“No, I plan to make you beg.”

I snorted. That’d be the day.

We toweled off and Boone started to dress, but my clothes were still bloodstained. He said he had a spare pair of sweats hidden in the house and left, promising to return. I found myself staring at my reflection in the mirror once more.

Without all the blood on my face I looked… normal. Not as soft as Xavier, or as pretty as Xander, but there was nothing left to warn people to tread lightly around me. It felt wrong. I needed something to warn the world about what I was, who I was: a feral beast that no one could tame.

Well, maybe Boone could in his own way. He understood me like no one else and always seemed poised to give me exactly what I needed when I needed it, whether that was a fight, a cigarette, or his dick.

I opened the cabinet and found a pair of clippers sitting there. I took them to my messy hair, shearing it all off in a close shave. When I was done, I stepped back with a frown. It was closer to how I wanted to look, but something was still missing.

That’s when I noticed the collar sitting on the back of the toilet. I didn’t remember leaving it there, but Boone must’ve gotten it out of my hoodie before he tossed it in the burn bag.

I closed my fingers around the collar and lifted it. Maybe that would be enough. Everyone knew better than to approach a dog in a spiked collar, right? It screamed danger.

My fingers trembled as I wrapped the collar around my neck. I fumbled with the buckle, shaking almost too hard to close it. Once I did, I stepped back to look at myself in the mirror again. The face staring back at me was that of a stranger. The man in the collar looked… vicious. He had strong arms and calloused knuckles from working on cars in the junkyard. His lips were a hard line, and his teeth were sharp and ready to bite anyone who came too close without warning. Instead of appearing haunted and bleak like mine, his eyes were cold. Unrelenting. Ready to face whatever came his way.

I touched the mirror, leaving fingerprints behind. My fingerprints, because the man in the mirror was me. There was a piece of me in that collar that I’d never known I needed, and now that I had it, I couldn’t imagine ever taking it off again.

The bathroom door opened and Boone entered, hesitating when he saw me. Hungry eyes roamed over my neck and I wondered if he might’ve left some marks on me too. I hoped so.

“You look… fiercer,” he said, laying out the clothes.

“Good.”

“Are you ready to face your brothers? They were asking about you.”

I frowned. Facing Xander and Xavier after everything that’d happened wasn’t going to be easy. A minute ago, I wasn’t sure I could do it. It would’ve been easier to keep things the way they were, to push them away and go back to being alone, but that wasn’t what I wanted. As terrified as I was to admit it, I wanted Xander to forgive me for what I’d done to him six years ago. But that apology would have to go two ways. He’d abandoned me too.

I reached up to adjust how the collar sat around my neck, noting that there were hand shaped bruises forming around my throat. “I’m ready,” I said, and I dressed to go face my brothers.