Marked. Part II: Becoming Noah Baxter (17 page)

Strength comes in more ways than one. Muscle is the weakest form. Inner strength is the strongest, nobody can break you there. Inner is what she has, and what I should have been striving towards.

“
I craved your hatred too much. I dreamt of killing her a thousand different ways, each time more painful than the last. Instead, I let my dear sister know where you were, wanting to find out exactly were your true loyalties lie. You disappointed me with your decision.”

All I can do is blink at him. I don't know where to go from here, what he expects me to say to that.

It doesn't seem to matter to him, he carries on anyway, “
Your mother knew who I was. The only thing she asked me was if she was the third. I told her yes, and she willingly came to me. Nobody had ever willingly let me kill them. She baffled me at the time; it was the first and only time I thought about not killing my mark.”

The mention of my mother and that horrible day brings back memories so fresh they could be happening as we speak, a storm of events that will always haunt me.

The blame I placed on myself for not saving her, for being weak and not strong enough to push away my fear, stabs me just as strong now as it did then.

This has me thinking of my father, who's death is as much on Dragoni's hands as it is mine.

How many people have died for my need for revenge?

I deserve to die tonight. It seems like a proper punishment. I shouldn't be allowed to carry on when so many others can't because of me.

Dragoni is watching me, observing me while I come to terms with what's about to take place, reliving the deaths of my parents and so many others. 

“
When I saw you as a little boy watching us, I understood her sacrifice,” he feels the need to pursue, knowing I'm too absorbed in the past to protest. “She was keeping you safe the way a mother should. Protecting you from bad men the way my mother never did for me; the reason I despised her for never doing, never understanding how she could let her husband do the things he did.

“
Your mother was my favorite kill because of that. I took away your innocence and unconditional love. I had destroyed what she wanted to protect. The power and thrill that bestowed upon me has remained. That's why I loved our fights more than the rest, knowing I took from you what I never had for myself–”

“
You've taken everything from me,” I inject.

“
No, Mister Lincoln. You
let
me take it.”

Fuck. It's true, I did.

Which is why I hate myself as equally as I do this man, some moments even more so.

I point a finger back and forth between us, “I would do this all over again, every second of it, if it meant she was brought into my life. So I guess that's my third win over you. We're even.”

He recoils back, not liking my choice of words.

“I've found something that matters more to me than your death,” I self-righteously declare. “I've had the unconditional love of three people. How many have
you
had?”

“
No one,” he states, with almost a sadness to it.

Kolme Dragoni holds the dagger out, appearing as though he's ready to throw it straight at me.

I don't budge, accepting my fate, thankful that for a brief moment in my life I had the opportunity to discover what life was all about: the ability to love; the courage and strength it takes to love a person, no matter how different they are. Forgiving that they have flaws and appreciating their imperfections. Knowing those are the things that define them, forming them into something that cannot be defined and shelved into a category. Understanding that's what makes them so remarkable.

Lily taught me that. She taught me many things, but that is what I want to remember the most.  

I watch the man who has overtaken my youth and forsaken me a childhood, the man I thought had turned my heart as black as his, take his family dagger and slit his own throat, but not before saying, “You haven't won, but I haven't lost either.”

I try wrapping my mind around what just happened. That the man I had wanted vengeance on and to destroy for almost my entire existence had willingly taken his life in front of me.

His last parting words will remain with me forever, knowing we are the only two who will ever understand their meaning and how true they are.

I stay there, staring at the dead body of Kolme Dragoni, his blood pouring out of him and flowing across the floor, creating a river that seems desperate to find me.

When his blood finally reaches me, I place two fingers into the murky, reddish-brown fluid, rubbing the blood between my fingers and thumb, never taking my eyes from the man who still has his one eye locked with mine, but now it's vacant in a way only death can cause.

I should feel something right now, but I don't. I don't feel anything. All I want is to sleep.

On shaky legs that feel like they will buckle underneath me as I stand, I punch in the code to open the door, leaning my weighted body on the frame.

“
Stay back,” I hear a foggy, familiar voice call out to someone. “Stay back,” it warns again. “I'll let you see him once I know he's okay.”

A blurry Vault stands in the doorway. He's talking to me as I brush past, slouched over, my spine curling forward, my head hanging, my feet dragging on the floor. I probably look like the walking dead. That's actually pretty close to how I feel right now.

Two shots ring out in the distance and somehow I know Vault has shot Dragoni twice in the head, just to be sure he's dead, and because it must feel good to do that to the man who murdered his wife.

Why didn't I care to do the same?

I make my way along the panic room wall to the other door at the end.

She's behind me, I can sense her. I can always sense her; my body has a natural pull towards her.

The room I enter is a bedroom. I fall face down onto the bed.

She removes my shoes and then joins me, laying down next to me. My head's turned away from her, but I can tell she's hesitant to touch me even though I know she wants to.

She's the only one I would allow to touch me right now.

I turn my face so I can feel her sweet breath on me, my eyelids still shut from being too heavy to open.

I want to ask her not to leave me, to stay with me, but I can't find words right now. I'm too damn tired. I have twenty years of sleep to catch up on.

Her perfect plump lips kiss my forehead, causing something wet to drop out of the corner of my eye and travel down my cheek.

She kisses that away and I can feel the moisture on her face, knowing she's been crying.

I hate it when she cries. I only ever want her to smile.

More wet drops fall down and she kisses every single one of them.

Somewhere through all of this I drift off, letting my body and mind finally get some rest, some peace.

Lily

Chapter 25

Wednesday, March 26

6:19am

Jay has remained on his stomach, twisted in my direction, legs a few feet apart, arms resting to the sides of his face for the past twelve hours. Occasionally a limb jerks or a finger twitches, but other than that he remains still. I've never seen a person in such a deep sleep. It frightens me.

His face has become more youthful and his features remind me of a lost little boy in need of sunshine, warmth, and reassurance that life can be just as beautiful as it is ugly.

What causes my heart to shatter are the tears that escape the corners of his eyes. Every one that falls I kiss away before it hits his chin, sometimes kissing it away before it has the chance to fully form.

He's completely breaking my heart.

No one knows what happened inside that room between Jay and the man I never want to mention again. It looks like he killed himself, but I know it wasn't as simple as that. Words had to have been exchanged.

Jay's old scar was reopened and his spine has bruising. Vault had a doctor come in and stitch it back up, having him check that no real damage was made. Jay didn't so much as flinch and kept right on sleeping.

The doctor also took a look at my neck. It only needed a few stitches and an ugly patch of gauze.

Vault had tried to get me to leave and let Jay rest, but I refused.

I'm not leaving his side until he wakes up, and even then they'll have to force me. He's my other half; being next to him is the only place I'll ever need to be. I want him to know how loved he is, that he's not in this alone, and that he'll never be alone again.

I slowly drift back into my wakeful sleep, not wanting to miss a fallen tear, sometimes moving more of myself over him or stroking his back and hair, needing to have constant contact.

5:02pm

Jay still hasn't moved. I've become worried; it doesn't seem like someone should be able to sleep this long. He hasn't had anything to eat or drink, not even waking to use the bathroom. His breathing is shallow and I constantly place my hand on his back to feel the rise and fall, confirming to myself that he's alive.

I asked Vault if he could be in a coma because it doesn't seem natural, but he assured me that he's only recuperating from two decades of exhaustion.

The man that I love is hurting and all I can do is lay with him.

I've never felt more helpless.

Chapter 26

Friday, March 28

7:53pm

Jay finally woke up early yesterday morning, but he might as well still be sleeping. He's laid on his back the whole time, vacantly staring at the ceiling or going back to sleep, wrapping his entire body around me, refusing to let me go when he does.

He hasn't spoken a single word or acknowledged that he hears when I speak, only eating because I force him to, only using the bathroom because I remind him that he needs to. I've brushed his teeth and given him a warm sponge bath. I even went as far as putting his hand under my shirt to cup my bare breast, but that didn't get a response. I even tried stroking him, but that didn't spur anything either.

I was successful in getting him to go back to his place, the journey taking much longer than it should have because he rested most of his weight against me, taking slow, tedious steps. 

I pull back to take his face in my hands, searching his eyes, hoping to find answers. He stares back at me, but the vacancy I see sends chills down my spine.

What do I do? How do I help him?

Fat, long tears plop down my face, one at a time. He doesn't even make a move to stop them.

He hates my tears. I don't think
this
man even sees them.

I kiss him.

It's the only thing I can think of.

I kiss him from deep down in my soul and pour it all out into him, sending him all the love I have inside me. My hands caress and roam, showing comfort and everlasting love.

His mouth goes through the motions but he's not there with me, responding how he normally does.

Jay's lost right now and I wish I knew how to get him back. For now I can only take care of him and wait for him to come back to me.

Chapter 27

Sunday, March 30

9:18am

Something nuzzles under my ear and I naturally mold back into it.

“Morning, baby,” a gravelly voice rasps in my ear, hand trailing under my shirt, up my stomach. 

I go stiff.

I haven't heard his voice in five days. I slowly turn around, and the minute I make contact with his beautiful blue irises that are glowing with life and vitality, I wrap my arms tightly around his neck and weep into it.

“
You're back,” I sniffle into his skin.

His lips kiss along the side of my face, making sure not a part of it goes untouched, “I needed to check out for a while.”

“I know, baby,” I sob into his neck, “ I know.”

He tucks me into his arms and squeezes me closer to him.

“Are you going to be all right now?”

He squeezes me even harder, “I think I am.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“
One day, but not now.” He kisses my hair, “I will though, when I'm ready to.”

“
It's over, Jay. You're free,” I sputter into his neck, my silent tears racking my body.

I get no response, but feel his shuddering that mirrors my own, convulsing so hard from his violent tears that I wish he would cry out loud to further release his agony.

I hold him closer, my chest getting soaked in tears, his downpour showing no signs of stopping.

10:49am

Jay's face has been planted in the curve of my neck for the past ten minutes, making noises only a person who has been heavily crying can make while they try to calm down, his hands clutching me, afraid I will leave him. The more I reassure him I'm not going anywhere, the more intently he holds tight, curling more of me under him.

I kiss each scar on his face, at a complete loss for how to help this broken man.

“
You can't ever leave me,” his voice pleads in an almost shattered way.

I want to comfort him. I want to soothe away his worry and torment and what ever demons are still cast deep inside, but I haven't a clue how or what to say to save him. I can only hold him tighter to me. He has me scared right now; this isn't Jay. This isn't the strong, brave, overpowering man I know.

I whisper the only words that come to mind into his ear, “Take me, Jay. Bind me to you. Make me yours.”

He lets out a low, deep growl from the back of his throat. His lips urgently kiss along my shoulder and neck, careful to avoid my bandage, biting and sucking, more forceful than he ever has, almost to the point of painful.

His fingers loop around the waist of my pants and sweep them off along with his, at such a speed that I barely feel them leave and drop to the floor. My shirt goes just as fast.

His body presses down on me, dominating it, giving it no choice but to trust in him, and I do. This is what he needs, and if ever there was a person who wouldn't hurt me, it's Jay.

He pushes himself inside me, working himself in and out like a man possessed. His teeth bite into the flesh of my neck, grunting and panting as he continues his motions.

I'll admit, I'm not sure how to handle him right now. This isn't making love, it isn't fucking, I'm not sure what this is. It's as though he's claiming me, that nobody can have me, nobody can take me from him. His movements are not fast or slow, but they are deep, all of his weight on me.

As I let him take from me what he needs, I find myself starting to respond to every hard thrust and growl.

“
Harder,” I gasp, getting caught up in the intensity of the moment, wanting him to declare me his. 

“
Mmm,” he growls into my hair, shoving his hands under my back to further engulf himself around me and keep me in place as his movements become savage and uncontrollable.

I explode like I never have before, every single nerve-ending pricking my skin, making me hyper sensitive to his skin as it runs along mine.

“Oh god, Lily!” Jay cries out before giving one last shove, burying himself as deep as he can, letting it stay there as his body convulses around me and he releases himself, his hips trying to grind further inside.

He stays on top of me while we recover, my intake of breath harder from his heavy body on top of mine. The sweat from our bodies mingles together, the musky sent of us permeating the air, making it heavier and thicker to breathe in.

I rub the back of his neck, which is drenched from his exertion, droplets running down his back. I oddly want to lick them all. I never would have known this barbaric side of me if it wasn't for Jay – I don't think I would have this side with anyone else. 

“
Shower with me,” he requires in the voice I'd once hated, but know now is a defense mechanism to mask his emotions.

His arms are still caged around me and they pull me up, throwing me over his shoulder. I giggle over his caveman antics and pinch his sexy tootsie.

I can sense him grinning even if I can't see it. I kiss everywhere my lips can reach, dragging my tongue along his spine, causing him to pause his movement. A ripple of pleasure passes through him and goosebumps cover his skin. 

He keeps me over his shoulder as he turns the water on and adjusts the temperature, not letting me down until it's to his satisfaction. I recognize from the sound of the water flowing that he's drawing us a bath; a new experience for us to share together. I secretly hope that we never run out of new experiences, and that despite the places he has been we'll still have a whole universe to explore together.

The thought has me smiling like a fool; a fool desperately in love with a man I never would have envisioned for myself, but that's what I love about life: it sometimes has it's own agenda, and I thank God for that.

Jay gently places me into the warm bath, as though I'm made of the finest crystal; too expensive and beautiful to handle more roughly, and he wants me to last a lifetime and beyond.

He slowly lets himself in behind me, trying to be graceful and not disturb the water and his delicate crystal inside. I lean back into him, inhaling deeply, enjoying the peaceful quiet only we can give each other. We could probably go days without talking and still feel verbally satisfied, communicating in ways only two souls destined to be together can.

He then proceeds to cleanse me, taking great care and detail in getting every part of me cleaned, his hand and washcloth sweeping across me with pure love and tenderness.

This is the side of Jay that always leaves me overwhelmed with emotions; the way he worships me and pays reverence to my body. I'm not the most beautiful woman or the sexiest, but to him I am. To him I'm above it all, something to be valued and treasured in the highest regard, respected above anyone else. I don't know what I did to earn this kind of love, but I hope I never lose it.

Wanting him to feel everything he just showed me, I reach for his hand and grab the cloth.

“My turn,” I say in a voice foreign to me; it's sultry, deep, emotional, and raw.

He leans back into the tub, placing his arms on the sides and resting his head against the tile behind him, his eyes never leaving my body as they shine with the love he has for me. It leaves me temporarily spellbound, trying to decipher every emotion that is swirling in the aqua and gold of his irises. For someone that tries so hard to hide them, it amazes me how many emotions he can express in the blink of an eye – if you're lucky enough to be paying attention.

My hands have been softly caressing and nurturing, cleaning him the same as he did me, but my eyes have stayed with his, not wanting to miss a single emotion that passes through them. When his brows start to pull together, as though this moment is getting too overwhelming, I plant my lips to his, letting my mouth, tongue, and hands take over and express everything that is transpiring inside me.

He immediately responds, an arm looping around me to pull me in, water sloshing all around us.

My arms snake around his neck, our lips desperately moving together. He glides me on top of him and we begin to make love, this time almost painfully slow, taking our time, letting our skin get wrinkled and pruny, knowing we have all the time in the world.