21. Twenty

The voices had been silent for days, but they returned as soon as Shepherd was gone. Maybe it was the stress, or maybe the medication wasn’t working. I didn’t know, and I didn’t tell Boone. He didn’t have time to worry about the stupid voices in my head, not when he had so much to do.

He ordered the yard closed. Icy fingers gripped my heart and squeezed as I watched Church draw the large, corrugated metal gate shut for the first time during the day. It felt like watching the psych ward doors close and lock all over again.

I was a prisoner. Trapped like a rat in someone else’s cage.

Everything in me screamed that I should scale the wall, get out while I still could. The voices agreed, whispering lies about how Boone and Shepherd were working together to keep me trapped. This was all a farce, and they were going to hand me over to the government.

I closed my eyes and focused on the tight squeeze of the collar around my throat, trying to calm my pounding heart. It was a lie. Boone wasn’t sending me away. I wasn’t trapped. The walls, the cameras, the guns… They were to protect me. Boone and the Junkyard Dogs were about to risk their lives to keep me safe.

Where was the line between secure and trapped? How could I be so sure I was being protected and not exploited? How did anyone ever know?

“You okay, Pup?”

“Hmm?” I turned away from the window, looking over at where Boone had his gun taken apart. The parts were strewn all over the coffee table, and he was meticulously cleaning them one at a time.

Warm hazel eyes met mine and his red streaked eyebrows pinched. “You’ve been quiet tonight.”

I shrugged and turned back to the window. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

God, he could be such a nosey fucker sometimes. Knowing Boone, he’d just keep prying until I told him what was bothering me, but I didn’t want to talk about it, so I asked, “What happens if you lose?”

Boone frowned. “We ain’t gonna lose, Pup.”

“Yeah, but if you do…”

He abandoned his sniper rifle, crossing the room to grip the back of my head with both hands. “The only way anyone is taking you away from me is over my dead body.”

The icy fingers around my heart squeezed again. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

Boone pulled me into a wet and messy kiss that left me throbbing for more. “Today isn’t the day I die.”

I gathered the fabric of his shirt in my fist and whispered, “How can you be so sure?”

His hand closed over mine and he just looked at me. It was one of those looks that felt like tenterhooks in my flesh, like he was getting claws under my skin to soothe that persistent deep ache for something I didn’t understand. Then he kissed me again and went back to cleaning his rifle.

“My father died running drugs for his club, and my mom went to jail for fraud,” he said, running the rag over one of the black pieces. “My grandma Mabel—God rest her soul—raised me and my brother Mason out in Last Hope Holler. She was a God-fearin’ lady, but she was also superstitious. Believed in magic and its power to heal and harm. They used to call her a kitchen witch.”

I pushed away from the window and came to sit on the arm of the sofa, watching him work. “A kitchen witch? Was she like a baker or something?”

“Or something,” he continued with a little chuckle. “She was a midwife, a doctor, and a spirit healer all wrapped up in one. Gran could make a tea to cure your stomach ache, or one to give to your husband so he’d be too sick to hit you for a few days.” He glanced up at me. “Or one to make him even sicker if he was real dangerous. She had a tea or a cream for everything, but that wasn’t all she did. Gran and the old women like her were magic in their own way.”

“Isn’t that contradictory? Being a good Christian woman and a witch?” I leaned forward as he started screwing pieces back together.

Boone shrugged. “Not the way they saw it. Gran would say that she was just doing spirit work. The Holy Spirit’s still a spirit, right? And if God works in mysterious ways, who’s to say He can’t speak through a deck of playing cards or tea leaves? And since He’s the almighty, of course a believer can heal from afar by invoking His name. What she did, it was like Christian magic with some folk medicine thrown in. Hand me that piece there, will you?” He pointed.

I grabbed the part he indicated and handed it to him. “What’s that got to do with tonight?”

He screwed a few pieces together before answering. “When I was thirteen, my gran sat me down to read my fortune in a deck of cards. I learned a few things that day. One, that I was destined to struggle in love. Two, I was going to come into a lot of money if I was willing to work for it, and three…” He finished assembling the sniper rifle and looked up. “I get to die an old fart in the comfort of my own damn bed.”

I crossed my arms and frowned. “There’s no way anyone can know that by looking at a few cards.”

“That’s the thing about magic, Pup. You gotta believe in it for it to work.” He stood. “Well, are you ready to see the bunker?”

I tried not to scowl. I wasn’t happy about being tucked away in some underground bunker like a princess while Boone and his guys did all the fighting, but I understood that I wasn’t equipped for this fight. Boone said the people coming for me would be ex-military like him. I couldn’t take Boone in a fight, and I wasn’t trained in military tactics. The bunker was the safest place for me, but that didn’t mean I wanted to be there.

We walked to the center of the yard in front of where all the trailers sat in a semicircle. Boone moved aside some of the furniture and swept away some dirt to reveal a metal hatch that he pulled open, revealing a set of metal stairs. Lights flickered to life far below.

I breathed in stale air as we descended the narrow staircase. The bunker smelled like an unused grave, sterile and earthy with a slight metallic tang in the air. At the bottom of the stairs was a keypad. Boone typed in the passcode and stuck his thumb on the pad before a metal door slid aside.

The room beyond was cozy. Not at all the post-apocalyptic setup I’d been expecting. There was a big TV, a comfy looking sofa, a bookshelf full of paperbacks… There was even a video game system and a few laptops tucked into a cubby on the wall.

“This place is nicer than your trailer,” I said, running my hands over the glass coffee table.

Boone laughed. “That’s because my trailer was built to live in. This place was made to house VIPs. Anyone we’ve had to hide or protect for a job has stayed down here.”

My stomach fluttered and I looked back at him. “Not in the trailer with you?”

“Nope,” he said, putting down the briefcase that held his sniper rifle. After going through all the trouble of putting it together, he’d just taken it apart again and put it away. “You’re the only one I’ve ever kept so close.”

Because he doesn’t trust you, whispered one of the voices.

But maybe that wasn’t it. Maybe he’d kept me close because he’d liked me from the beginning. Because I was special.

That could be another delusion, but I didn’t want it to be. I wanted to be special to Boone.

Footsteps came down the stairs and Happy ducked his head into the main room of the bunker, knocking on the door. “Hey, Boone, can I talk to you for a sec?”

Boone put a hand on my lower back, making it clear that whatever Happy had to say, he could say it to me too.

Happy’s gaze slid to me with a frown as he slid into the room. He rubbed the back of his neck. “I hate to do this to you, Boss, but I have to go. It’s my mom.”

“Is everything all right?” Boone asked, removing his hand from my back.

I immediately missed the warmth of his touch.

Happy chewed on his bottom lip. “She’s in the hospital, so I figure it must be serious. I’d stay and fight but—”

“Go,” Boone said firmly and waved him off. “You only get one mom, and I know how close you two are.”

“Are you sure?” Happy said, shifting his weight nervously. “I don’t want to fuck you over.”

Boone snorted. “We’ll be fine. See you when you get back. And keep me updated. Text me her room number so I can send flowers.”

Happy nodded and glanced at me. There was something in his eyes. Regret? Guilt? But why? It was there and gone in a flash, leaving me to wonder if I had ever seen it in the first place.

As Happy retreated, Church came through the door to announce, “We’re almost set up. Leo’s going to run some tests, and we’re waiting on Ragnar to get back with a few supplies from in town, but we’re otherwise good to go.”

Boone frowned and looked down at his watch. “This early?”

Church shrugged. “You trained us well, Boss.” His eyes traveled to me, and his jaw clenched. “But we’ve got a few hours before the sun sets.”

Boone sighed and dropped his hand. “Mostly hurry up and wait now.”

“I’ll have Leo put out the drones and Ragnar will work the perimeter. Perch is ready and waiting for you.” It sounded like he was hopeful Boone would leave.

I moved closer to Boone, brushing my arm against his. I didn’t know if that’d be enough to communicate that I didn’t want him to leave yet, but I couldn’t bring myself to do something as stupid as hold his hand in front of Church. I wasn’t going to be clingy. That wasn’t me. It wasn’t us. But I wasn’t ready to let him go. Not yet. Maybe it was selfish, but I wanted to hold onto him as long as I could.

“Boone was still showing me around down here,” I said, glaring at Church.

“You go on,” Boone said to Church. “I’ll have my comms on and we’ll see anybody coming a mile away, at least before dark. You can call if you need me.”

A muscle in Church’s jaw ticked, but he didn’t voice his objection. He nodded once and left.

I picked up the TV remote. “Do you want to watch something with me?”

“Sure thing.” Boone snatched the remote away and plopped down on the sofa, scrolling through movies on his streaming service.

Normally, I’d curl up on the opposite side of the sofa, about as far away from him as I could get. That’s how we’d always watched movies together, like a pair of angry cats co-existing in the same space. But that wasn’t what I wanted anymore.

I walked up to him and pushed his knees apart, making enough room for me to sit between them on the floor. Boone said nothing about my choice of seating and put on Leon: the Professional for us to watch for the third time. He fucking loved that movie.

As the opening credits rolled, I let my head rest on his thigh and closed my eyes, breathing in his woodsy scent. Boone smelled like autumn leaves and vaguely of dog. Not the most attractive smell to some people, but to me, it was comforting. I liked that he didn’t bother with colognes or aftershave or any of that shit. Everything about Boone was real, unaltered, and unfiltered, and I loved that about him. I always had, even when I couldn’t admit it.

I turned my body slightly, pressing my face more deliberately against the seam of his ripped-up jeans. He put his hand on top of my head, but he didn’t stop me. Instead, he ran his fingers through my hair, down the back of my scalp like he was petting me. The sensation made me shiver.

I turned away from the TV and sat on my knees between his legs, looking up at him. Boone wasn’t paying attention to the movie either. He was too busy looking at me, his eyes hooded and his pupils swallowing up the pretty mix of green, blue, and brown.

I closed my eyes again and pushed my face into the space between his legs, nosing against his rapidly swelling cock, but it wasn’t that I was after. His scent was stronger there and I wanted to roll in it, coat myself in him so that he’d be with me, even when he wasn’t.

“What are you doin’, Pup?” Boone’s fingers combed through my hair.

“Sniffing you.” My cheeks burned. It felt silly to say it out loud, but I couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. “I like the way you smell. I wish I could roll in your scent. Especially here. But it would be better if…”

I grabbed the button to his jeans with both hands and looked up at him, half expecting him to stop me. When he didn’t, I took it as permission, unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans. Boone wasn’t wearing any underwear, so once I did that, there was nothing between me and what I wanted.

I yanked his jeans down a little and his hard cock came free, but I ignored it, instead burying my face in the nest of reddish-brown curls where his scent was strongest and inhaling. My cock stiffened in response. I hadn’t even known it was possible to get hard from someone’s smell. Maybe Boone had inherited his witch grandmother’s powers and he’d put a spell on me. If so, I didn’t ever want it to stop. I wanted to stay there between his legs forever, drinking in his scent, feeling his fingernails scrape over my scalp. This was better than sex. More intimate. More primal.

I turned my head and pressed my nose to his shaft, nuzzling along it until I reached the thick head. A clear drop of precum trailed down from the slit like dew. I licked it off and groaned at the salty taste of him.

“I’ve never sucked a dick before,” I whispered and kissed the velvety soft skin. I had no idea what to do, but I wanted to try. I wanted Boone in every part of me while I could still have him, because that voice in the back of my head that said he wasn’t coming back was getting stronger with every passing minute. No, I needed it. I nuzzled the other side, smearing more precum along my jaw. “Teach me how to do it.”

“No wrong way to do it. Just do what you like.” He sounded breathless, but he looked so calm, so serene.

I frowned. Of course there were wrong ways to do it. There were wrong ways to do everything. The world was made up of rules, most of which I didn’t know existed until I broke them. But maybe not with Boone. I could trust him, even if the voices were whispering otherwise.

I swiped my tongue over his slit again, gathering more of his salty essence, and then tested wrapping my lips around him.

Boone hissed and dug his fingernails into my scalp. “Fuck, that’s good. Lick the underside. Just like that. Jesus, that’s so good.”

I swallowed more of him, which was a lot more difficult than it seemed. He hit the back of my throat quickly. I gagged and started to pull back until I realized he seemed to like that. I tried it again, but I couldn’t fight my instincts not to choke, no matter how hard I tried. I needed him to do it.

I slid back and released him with a wet pop, closing my hand over the one he had buried in my hair. “Make me do it,” I said and moved his hand to my collar.

His brows furrowed.

I clenched my hand around his tighter. “Make me choke on your cock.”

He licked his lips. “But…”

“I don’t need you to treat me like I’m made of glass. Fuck my face. Prove to me you don’t think I’m weak. I can fucking take it.”

“All right, if you’re sure, Pup.” He gripped my collar and yanked me down, burying his cock straight in the back of my throat.

I gagged violently and he let me go, but I didn’t want that. I told him I could take it, and I meant it, so I glared up at him and put his hand back on my collar.

“Fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” he whispered.

I groaned around his length as he forced it to the back of my throat again.

“Swallow around me, Pup. There you go. Like that. Good Pup.”

My chest swelled with pride, even as I blinked through the inevitable tears. There wasn’t much I could do for Boone. I couldn’t fight, couldn’t shoot, couldn’t even be sane half the damn time. But I could be this for him, do this for him. When he was fucking my mouth or pounding my ass, I wasn’t being a burden. I had a purpose, one that I reveled in. One no one could take away from me. Not the state, not some judge, not the voices in my head. When Boone took what he wanted, he freed me in a way that no one else could.

I let the tears stream down my face and pressed my face further into that luscious patch of dark curls at the base of his cock, smothering myself in him. My head and my dick throbbed and dark spots strobed at the edge of my vision, but they didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the way Boone thrust into my throat until it ached like a bruise, the bitter salty taste of him on my tongue, the scent of him in my nose.

I’m going to pass out. The thought registered distantly. I also didn’t care.

I was on the edge of consciousness when Boone’s thrusts became wilder and more erratic. Spurts of cum coated my tongue, and even though I swallowed them down as fast as I could, some of it spilled from the corners of my mouth and down my chin.

Boone suddenly yanked me up by the collar, dragging me into his lap. His tongue tangled in mine, his moan vibrating against my lips as he tasted himself. He pushed me back, panting. “Get your cock out, Pup, and feed it to me.”

I scrambled to do as I was told, barely getting my jeans and underwear pushed down before the warmth of his lips closed around me. I cried out, not at all prepared for how intense it felt when he sucked me down. My hands fisted in his hair, and God, the sight of all that coppery hair twisted in my fingers was heaven. I couldn’t imagine ever doing this with anyone else. Why would I want to? Boone was so perfect, so authentic. So right. I pulled one hand free and dragged my fingers through the scruff of his beard while he sucked me, loving the way the bristly hairs felt whenever they hit my thighs or my balls.

I loved everything about this.

Everything about Boone.

“You can’t die,” I told him as he bobbed his head up and down. “You have to come back to me.” Because it wasn’t just things about Boone that I loved. I was falling for him, too. Despite all my efforts not to, he’d ensnared me in a trap of his own, and now there was no escape for me. For either of us.

We were bound together, whether we liked it or not. I’d kill anyone who tried to take Boone away from me, and he’d do the same for me. If that wasn’t some version of love, I didn’t know what else to call it.

But I couldn’t tell him that, not even if I wanted to. The words sat unspoken on the tip of my tongue, and though I ached to say them, they’d mean nothing if I said them now. Words were cheap. I had to show Boone how much he meant to me. Once this business with these bounty hunters was finished, that was exactly what I planned to do.

My balls grew heavy, and I teetered on the brink of bliss, dancing on the edge for as long as I could before Boone pushed me over. When I came in his mouth, it wasn’t the most intense orgasm, not physically, but I felt something shift between us. He looked up at me while I pumped my release onto his tongue, and I felt something pull tight in the air, like we were being physically bound in that moment by something more powerful than either of us. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was magic, but it was there, and it was real. From the way he looked at me, I knew he’d felt it too.

Boone released my cock and practically tackled me to the sofa to kiss me. “You’re mine,” he whispered against my lips. “I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away.”

I kissed him back violently, pulling at his hair until he moaned. “Same goes for you. Death can’t have you. You’re mine, and I don’t fucking share.”

He buried his head against my neck and let out a small, choked sound. I put my arms around him and held him there until we both caught our breaths again.

“I’ll always come for you,” Boone promised. “So no more running. You hear me, Pup?”

“I hear you.” I love you. Why does it feel like you’ve broken something inside me in the best way? I rubbed my nose against his ear, still unable to say the words. “I’m done running from my monsters. Now, they’ll run from me.”