The Dark of You by S.M. Shade
Chapter Seven
Reeve. It’s all I have, a first name. A week has passed since I’ve seen him or felt him watching me. Maybe now that he got what he came for, he’s done with me.
As ridiculous as it is, he hasn’t left my mind for more than a minute since that night. Not just because the sex was out of this world amazing but because there’s so much I don’t know. Who is he? Why would someone who looks like him resort to breaking in on women to get laid? He could command any woman into bed with a glance. Most of all, why’s he interested in me?
His answer that I need him makes no sense. And what was that other claim about? Wherever you are, I am. Bullshit. He’s not here now. A heavy feeling sits in my chest at the thought of returning to my empty house, but I’ve been walking for hours. Other than the last few minutes I’ve spent sitting under a bridge waiting on a storm to pass. Maybe that’s what has me down. The smell of the water dripping from the metal beams brought back memories I don’t need to reexamine.
Reluctantly, my feet carry me toward home. The sky has that odd filtered look that happens when a retreating storm collides with the last of the evening light. It makes the world appear yellowed and flat, not quite real. A neighborhood of false front houses, toy cars, and imposters.
The forest smells fresh from the rain, and I remind myself to open some windows to let it permeate the house. The itch to write swells inside me as I let myself in my front door. Lately, I’ve done my best to ignore it because I can’t bear the thought of sitting in front of that computer screen and feeling it fade away again.
The sight of my laptop sitting on the coffee table replaces the anxiety with anger. It’s like it’s taunting me. This is ridiculous. I’ve written almost every day since I was thirteen years old. My books consistently top the bestseller lists. I’m a writer. I write. And I’m going to get the fuck back to it tonight.
Energized and determined, I grab a cup of coffee, turn on some music, and sit down on the couch. This is it. I’m going to guzzle caffeine and spend the night writing like I’m meant to. With the rough outline of the last story I was working on beside me, I open a fresh document.
The first sentence of a book is paramount, but I often rewrite it later because that’s a lot of pressure to begin with. So, just write anything, Darcy. Anything to get started.
My fingers hover over the keyboard.
Thirty minutes later, they haven’t moved. Not one word. Not one letter. The cursor blinks as if it’s revving its engine, waiting to take off, but can do nothing but remain stagnant. The screen is unforgiving. White glaring back. Nothing staring at nothing.
Because what am I if I’m not a writer anymore?
A buzzing sound starts in my ears, and my face grows hot as every muscle in my abdomen seems to clench at once. Leaping to my feet, I launch the laptop across the room with a screech that could probably be heard down the street. It isn’t enough.
I shove the coffee table, knocking everything off of it, then start through the house. Fuck this. Fuck this life that’s never done anything but dangle things in front of me before taking them away again. Love, family, a reason to wake and eat and breathe. Fuck it all.
It’s over. Writing is what I had and now I don’t have anything.
There’s no point.
No point.
The words echo in my head as I burst through my back door and charge across the yard. The shed door gets flung open with a bang. I flip the light on so I can see it, sitting there waiting, promising a way out, an end.
The generator. It’s grown so big in my mind. Not sinister, but shiny and hopeful. Not one iota of me believes in an afterlife. No heaven or hell, no eternal consciousness. We wink out like a burned out star, dissolving back into the universe without any awareness.
The generator’s heavy, but in my anger, I have no problem yanking it away from the wall. The cap on the tank is stuck tight, and I have to find a pair of pliers to remove it, but it doesn’t take long. Something tugs at me in the back of my mind, a warning that I should just stop for a moment. Think and consider. I know better. This is what I need and hesitation will take it from me.
The smell of gasoline fills my nostrils when I pop the cap off of the plastic red jug. When I bend to pick it up, ready to pour it into the generator, I nearly drop it. A pair of black boots stand just a few feet away. My gaze follows them up to dark jeans, a white shirt on a familiar chest, then settles on green eyes. Angry eyes.
Despite his expression, Reeve’s voice is calm when he speaks. “What are you doing, Darcy?”
Silence is broken only by the wind whipping through the open shed door.
He came back. Maybe he never left. It doesn’t matter. His scent fills the small area. He smells like he’s been sitting by a campfire. Like burning wood. It’s always been my favorite smell but right now, I don’t want it. I don’t want him or anything to take me away now that I’ve found the will to get things over with.
“None of your goddamn business. Get out.”
“No.”
“Get the fuck out!” I scream, slamming my hands into his chest. He doesn’t budge, just stares at me.
His hand fists my hair, and he looks me in the eye. “No.”
“Fine!” My shout comes out in a sob. “Go ahead and fuck me! Get it over with and go!”
He loosens his grip and slides his hand to my nape, squeezing gently. “That’s not why I’m here.”
The anger fades into pain, as it always does. My body starts to feel weak and shaky. “Then why are you here?”
“You need me.”
With those words, he cups the back of my head and pulls it forward until my face is buried in his chest. Something inside me rattles loose. That was so close. The closest I’ve ever come to going through with it. My mind is too scrambled to know what I feel in this moment. Disappointment because I was ready to go, relief that he showed up when maybe there’s the tiniest chance that it would’ve been a mistake. Confusion over everything. Only one thing is clear. He’s not wrong this time. I need him, and he’s here.
Sobs rip from my body while he holds me. This stranger who has somehow gotten inside me in more ways than one. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I cry. I’m not sure whether I mean struggling to live or attempting to die. “I can’t go on like this.”
“I know. Things are going to change now,” he says, and I step back to look at him.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do. And you know it too. Come with me.”
His large hand swallows mine, and half expecting him to lead me into the woods, I follow him out of the shed without a backward glance at the generator. We walk through my back door and down the hallway to my bedroom where he shucks off his boots.
“Get into bed,” he orders.
Exhausted, I kick off my shoes and obey, lying on top of the covers. He climbs in beside me then pulls me to him, cradling me, and I lay my head on his chest. My body feels so heavy.
“Why?” he asks. Just that one word, but I know what he’s asking. It isn’t an easy thing to explain. Because I can’t write sounds ridiculous and it isn’t the whole truth. The entirety of it is too encompassing to describe and contains so many years of experiences I never want to think about again.
“Tell me why, Darcy,” he demands. His voice is firm but his hand strokes my back softly.
My eyes fight to stay open until I surrender, closing them and cuddling into him. “It’s been a long, ragged life. There’s not enough ahead of me and way too much behind. I’m tired of trying to fill the hours and bored of it all.”
* * *
Reeve wakes early the next morning, and I’m half asleep when he plants a kiss on my lips, then leaves the room. The events of the night before trickle back into my mind. If he hadn’t shown up, would I have gone through with it? Yes, without a doubt. I’d be lying dead in my shed right now. The thought is a sobering one if not as terrifying as it should be. I feel better today, cleaned out in some way, but the sight of my living room makes me shake my head.
My laptop rests against the wall, the screen shattered beyond any hope of repair. With a sigh, I clean it up, as well as everything I knocked over throwing a tantrum like a damn toddler. With the feeling of just going through the motions, I eat breakfast, then pack some water and snacks in my bag. This house isn’t where I want to be today.
After locking my door, I turn and nearly jump out of my skin. Reeve waits at the bottom of the steps. This man standing in the sun is just the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Unruly dark hair falls into his face and he shoves it back in an unconscious movement it’s clear he makes dozens of times per day. It’s hard to believe those perfect lips have been on my body. And those hands, large and rough with long fingers…”
“Darcy.”
My head snaps up, and I’m met with a wolfish smile. “Stop looking at me like that or I’m going to fuck you right here.”
Don’t threaten me with a good time.The thought makes my lips twitch, and a smile blooms on his face. If I thought his usual hard and impassive expression was difficult to resist, it’s nothing compared to this. Whew. That smile could rip a woman’s panties off from across a room. “Something you want to say?” he dares me.
“No. What are you doing here?”
“Going with you.”
“To walk?”
“Wherever you’re going.”
Okay then. He falls into step beside me, and we head down the driveway toward the road. He’s dressed how he usually is, in a t-shirt and jeans, but not the same that he wore last night. While a million questions live on my tongue, I start with asking, “Where do you live?”
“Nearby.”
That couldn’t be more vague. “In town?”
“No.”
“Do you work in town? What do you do for a living?”
He glances down at me as we make our way down the street, but doesn’t answer.
“Seriously? Can I get a last name? An address? Your favorite color? Anything?” I snap, frustrated.
“Black,” he replies, amusement in his voice.
“What?”
“My favorite color’s black.”
“Of course it is. Is that all you’re going to tell me?” My feet grind to a halt on the gravel shoulder, and I cross my arms.
“Yes.”
“I don’t know anything about you!”
He steps up close and stares down at me. “Yes, you do. You know how my hands feel on your skin, how my tongue can make you whimper and beg. You know the places my cock reaches inside you and how it feels when you come on it. You know I’m never far away when you need me.” Each word he speaks brings him a step closer to me until my back is against a tree, pinned by his heated body. “I’ll tell you one thing you don’t know, Darcy. You’ve always been mine.”
My chest rises and falls rapidly as his words register. Crazy, he’s crazy. I’m probably not one to judge since I grab his shirt and kiss those lips that never stop calling out to me. He groans, sliding his tongue into my mouth. He kisses me until I’m dizzy and desperate for air, then regards me while we catch our breath. His hands cup my face, and I’m caught in his intense gaze. “I can’t answer your questions. It’s just how it is. You’ll have to decide.” He drops another brief kiss on my lips. “If this is enough.”
With that, he turns and continues down the road. Without a second of hesitation, I follow.
A comfortable silence falls between us. It feels odd but satisfying to have someone with me, walking the same paths I travel so often. When we get to the railroad tracks, he turns away from the direction of town. It’s fine by me. I’d rather be alone with him, without curious eyes wondering who the rough, gorgeous man is with the woman who walks the streets daily.
The day has become sunny and warm. Fat bumblebees drone lazily through the fields around us, hovering over the patches of meadow violets that seem to have sprung up overnight. A calm settles over me. Maybe it’s because I came so close last night or because of how I feel when he’s near, but for the first time in a while, I can see things like I used to. In the way that my writer brain viewed them before.
The world’s a horrible place sprinkled with just enough beauty to make us doubt that fact. I’ve always known that. Lately, I’ve struggled to see the beauty of it, but today, these things seem to shine. My mind wanders to how I’d describe the sky, the way a darker blue pushes against aqua, shoving a few clouds up between. Is there rain on the way? I didn’t bother to check before I left but what does it matter? If it rains, we’ll get wet. The sight of Reeve wet isn’t something I’d avoid, that’s for sure.
He glances over at me as if he can read my thoughts. “What did I tell you about that look?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” His low chuckle sends a thrill across my skin. He’s a little different in the daylight. A bit more relaxed and apt to smile. It’s nice.
The fields are eaten away by the forest that creeps up to either side of the tracks until we’re closed in. Hills rise around us and before long, we come to the tunnel. Made of stone, with a steep hill of dirt and forest above it, it’s creepy even in the daylight. Moss and mold stain the light colored stone on one side where a steady source of water drips every few seconds. A weathered sign has been bolted to the opposite side, warning against trespassing. Another above it simply reads DANGER in red lettering.
When I turn and take a few steps back the way we came, Reeve stays put, smirking at me. “You don’t want to keep going?”
“Into the tunnel? This is where I turn around.”
“Scared?”
A snort escapes me at the challenge in that one word. “Are you going to double dare me?” He stands silently by the entrance until I gesture at the signs. “It says no trespassing.”
“Do you always follow the rules?”
The words Mr. Wallace spoke when I walked him to the senior center come back to me. “Life’s too short to play by all those rules and so much more fun without them.” It’s true, and young Darcy knew that. The girl who threatened a boy with a knife to his neck wouldn’t hesitate to charge in.
“What if a train comes?” I ask, walking back to look inside. There’s not much to see. A few feet is all that’s visible before the rails are swallowed by darkness.
“There’s enough room on the sides if you stand close to the walls. It wouldn’t hit us.”
It doesn’t mean it wouldn’t kick something up, but I keep that concern to myself because I know I’m going to do it anyway. Last night I was going to off myself. What am I scared of?
It’s a good thing I charged my phone this morning. The flashlight’s bright enough to light the way. “Let’s go.”
After a few minutes of walking, the track bends slightly, and we can see a tiny spot of light. A literal light at the end of the tunnel. The damp smell doesn’t surprise me, nor do the random beer bottles and other trash we find just inside. If there’s a forbidden place, teenagers will find it.
A sudden rustling overhead startles me. I instinctively move close to Reeve and shine the light toward the ceiling.
“It’s just bats,” he reassures me.
“Oh,” I breathe, “Look at this.” There was no need to point out what appears on the walls around us but I’m in such awe. Starting at the bend in the tunnel, the walls explode with color. This isn’t typical graffiti and tagging. Rising up the wall on our left is a detailed mural of outer space. Planets, stars, moons and comets against a black background. It fades near the top curve and bright blue paint takes over on the opposite side, beginning the mural on the other wall. In stark contrast, this one displays an idyllic town surrounded by countryside on a sunny day. I’m stunned by the painstaking care that’s been taken. The tiny buildings and people. The rolling fields to one side and the forest to the other.
I’ve forgotten to be afraid, or even where I am as I move through the tunnel, marveling that something so beautiful and full of incredible talent is hidden away where few will ever see it. It goes on and on. “This must’ve taken years.” I stop to admire a tiny playground full of happy children, then turn to examine a fiery comet and the way the artist seemed to make it glow. “I could spend years looking at it,” I whisper.
There’s still beauty.Maybe more than I give the world credit for, hidden away, shrouded in the damp and dark. A knot rises in my throat, and I swallow it back before Reeve can notice how the art is affecting me.
His hand slides into mine when we walk past the mural’s end. “They only painted the center part of the tunnel. No one who only dares to enter on either end will get to see the murals,” he says. “Only the brave or stupid.”
“Which are we?” I giggle, blinking as we step back out into the sunlight.
“A little from each column.”
He smirks down at me, and I shake my head. The hills around us quickly turn back to fields, and I’m about to suggest we turn around when we come to a railroad bridge.
“I’m not crossing that,” I announce, and sit down to take a break on the edge of it. After that cool tunnel, the heat of the day feels oppressive and sweat drips down my sides.
Reeve sits beside me, and we watch the slowly moving water of the river under the metal bridge. Along one shore are discarded lawn chairs surrounding a pit full of ashes. A trail leading up the side of the hill just beside us makes it obvious what draws people to this spot. A swimming hole.
After a few minutes, Reeve stands up and pulls his shirt off.
“What are you doing?” I ask when he starts unfastening his jeans.
“It’s hot. We’re going to jump.”
Getting up, I step well back from the edge with a laugh. “The hell we are.”
Within seconds, he’s naked, his clothes tossed at the edge of the bridge. While I’m caught up in staring at the display of muscle and tanned skin, he stalks over to me. His hands grab the bottom of my t-shirt, pulling it up. “Strip, Darcy. We’re going to swim, and then I’m going to fuck you.”
That’s a difficult order to argue with. Especially since his cock is already growing hard. “What if someone sees?” I ask, looking around.
“You know we’re alone.”
Swallowing, I look over the edge of the bridge. It’s not that high. I’m sure the teenagers who party here do exactly this. Jump and climb back up through that worn trail. The water must be deep enough. I can do this.
My clothes join his, and I’ve never felt this exposed. His hand in mine, we step up to the edge. I can’t help but giggle. Part of it’s from nerves, but it’s also the realization of where I am in the moment. Standing naked on a railroad bridge, holding the hand of my stalker, and about to leap into a river. What’s happened to my life?
“Count of three,” I breathe, and he grins at me. “One, two…three!”
Thrilling. It’s the only word for the fall. It’s only a second, but it feels longer. Air rushes up around me, making my stomach drop. Every muscle in my body contracts when the cold water swallows us, and I lose hold of his hand.
It doesn’t take long to kick my way back up to the surface. Reeve pops up not far away and flips his wet hair out of his face. How can he smile when we’re about to die of hypothermia?
“It’s freezing!” I yell at him, and start swimming for shore, my teeth chattering the whole way. He’s right behind me when I wade out of the water. A large boulder with a smooth, flat surface juts out of the ground, and I sit on it, reveling in the warmth under my ass, the sun on my skin.
“Want to go again?” he teases, and I flip him off.
It’s taken as an invitation. A moment later, I’m on my back with him hovering over me. A drop of water drips from his hair onto my shoulder while he stares down at me. Those eyes, my god. Green like a shallow sea, and turbulent, as if a storm always lives inside him.
My body aches for him, craves him like no one else. It doesn’t make sense to me, but I’m done trying to rationalize any of this as we dive into each other. It doesn’t matter. His kiss that lights a fire between my legs, his hands on my breasts, stroking and squeezing, the weight of his body on mine, even the scrape of my back against the rock, I want it. All of it.
He makes me feel alive.
A loud crack jerks us away from what we’re doing to look at the sky. Black clouds roll and shift overhead. A cool wind rushes over us, drying my skin, but making me shiver. I’ll admit a part of me wants to continue. Fuck him out in the storm. Never mind the fact of how fast this river could rise or that we could get struck by lightning. He must see the indecision in my expression because he laughs and pulls me to my feet.
“Come on. Let’s get back to the tunnel.”
I’ve never gotten dressed so fast. The storm bears down on us, and we run down the tracks. The wind threatens to knock me off my feet, washing the first sheet of hard rain across us when we approach the tunnel. My shriek is followed by a peal of laughter, and Reeve grins at me. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun.
“I’m glad we undressed before jumping into the river so we didn’t get our clothes wet,” I exclaim, stepping into the tunnel and wringing water from the bottom of my shirt.
“I like you wet,” Reeve says, and I reach to shove his dripping hair back. He grabs my hand, and that wicked grin is back on his face. The wind howls, blowing some leaves and debris into the tunnel. “Let’s go.”
He doesn’t let go of my hand until we’re about halfway through, surrounded by the murals again. My back suddenly strikes the stone wall, and Reeve’s mouth is on mine. My phone falls to the ground near my feet, the light pointing at the ceiling.
Lust for him comes surging back, and I grab his ass, pulling him against me where I can feel his cock straining against his wet jeans. “We can’t do this here,” I breathe, breaking away from the kiss when he unfastens his pants.
He spins me around, then yanks my shorts and underwear down at the same time. His body cages me in against the painted wall. His lips brush my ear, and his finger strokes over my clit, feather light. “You’ll take my cock wherever I want to give it to you.” He scoots my foot over with his foot, spreading my legs. “Won’t you, Darcy?”
There’s no chance to respond before he’s pushing inside me. Oh fuck. I’m wet and ready, but he’s big, and it’s so much tighter in this position. I step back, bending and arching my back a little where I can take him more easily.
He slams into me. “Answer me.”
“Yes!” It’s true. I can’t imagine a scenario where I wouldn’t want this.
“Keep your hands on the wall,” he orders, and grabs my waist. It’s everything I can do to stay on my feet while he delivers long, devastating strokes. Even during an impromptu fuck against a wall, the man makes sex into an art every bit as impressive as what surrounds us.
We can hear the storm still raging, but it’s distant, just an occasional clap of thunder and howl of wind. It seems to grow stronger until I realize thunder isn’t what I’m hearing.
“A train,” I gasp, letting go of the wall, and trying to turn around. Panic is a live animal in my stomach. “Reeve! It’s a train!”
The light on the engine is already visible. It’s in the tunnel and coming fast. There’s no way we can outrun it or beat it to the end. Strong arms wrap around my middle and shove me against the wall. My palms land flat, keeping my face from hitting it. Reeve’s body blankets mine, pinning me against the cold, damp stone.
“Reeve! We have to get out of here!”
“Too late now.” His deep chuckle shows how unconcerned he is.
This can’t be happening. Adrenaline outlines every sensation I’m feeling. The cold, gritty surface against my skin. Reeve’s hot body on mine. The sound of the train grows, and I squeeze my eyes shut when it catches up to us, peppering us with a shower of mist and dust. A burst of wind feels like it could lift me off of my feet. I can feel the vibration in my teeth it’s so close, but I don’t dare open my eyes or turn around. Plastered against the wall, all we can do is wait for it to pass.
It’s not all Reeve plans to do.
Keeping me securely against the wall, he scoots my legs apart a bit again and positions himself. “Reeve!” I cry out when his cock presses back inside me.
“Wherever I want, Darcy.”
This is crazy. His hand reaches to slap between my legs, leaving a gratifying sting. “Open your eyes. See where you are, what I’m doing to you,” he commands, and starts pounding into me.
Surreal. It’s the only description I have. I’m being fucked ragged, barely out of the range of a train that could splatter both of us into nothing. My heart tries to beat its way out of my ribcage while I do as he says and open my eyes. It can’t be more than a few minutes, but time stretches and bends, drawing out every second of terrifying pleasure. My senses are attacked by so much at once. The sound of the train, the vibration of it on my skin, the blanket of stars illuminated by my phone that’s lying nearby. All of it fights for space while I try to cope with the growing pressure deep inside of me. He’s taken me so high, and teetering on the precipice, I know the fall is going to be devastating.
My scream as the tension finally snaps echoes through the tunnel just as the train ends. Wind pulls at us, trying to suck us along the track, and Reeve holds me when my legs turn to water. He growls into my ear with his last thrust.
We stay that way for a long second, the sudden silence buzzing in my ears while I catch my breath. Finally, he steps back, and I reach with shaky arms to pull my clothes back up. I scoop up my phone, grateful to see it isn’t busted. When I turn around, he has his jeans fastened, and he’s watching me. Without a word, he takes my hand, and we start back down the tracks.
Like nothing happened.
Like I wasn’t just fucked within an inch of my life in more ways than one.
A bruised and rumbly sky greets us when we emerge. As we step out into the softly falling rain at the back end of the storm, there’s a smile on my face. Some people would probably be traumatized. What we did was reckless and stupid. And the biggest thrill of my life.
Reeve glances over at me when I start to laugh. I can’t help it. This has been the craziest day. “You’re never boring,” I tell him. “You can be scary. You’re frustrating because you won’t tell me about yourself. But you’re absolutely never boring.”
“You’re happy.”
Am I? It’s been so long I’m not sure I’d recognize happiness if it were mine. I’m smiling. I feel good. He’s right. “It’s been an amazing day.”
“You almost missed it.” The words come out in a tone that’s slightly accusatory.
It makes me think back over the last few hours. If I’d gone through with my plan last night, I wouldn’t have braved my way through the tunnel. I wouldn’t have seen the gorgeous artwork hidden away, felt the sensation of falling into an ice cold river, or the horrifying thrill of being fucked with death close behind me.
When I don’t answer him, he adds, “There’s always more ahead of you. You just have to find it. As for what’s behind, you leave it there to rot.”
He remembered what I told him last night when he asked me why and set out today to show me I’m wrong. His expression is severe when he looks down at me. “I need to know you won’t try that again.”
“I won’t.” The words may sound empty, but I mean them. Who knows what’s coming next with this man? What tomorrow or the next day will bring? He can’t take away the gloom I know will set back in once this feeling wears off, and there’s so much he isn’t willing to give.
He won’t give me his full name. He won’t give me his address or where he comes from or why he’s here. Yet, what he has given me is what I needed most. Something to look forward to. A reason to continue through the days.
My need for him to believe me grows the closer we get to my house. He doesn’t hesitate to follow me to the shed when I ask him to, and he watches as I pick up the can of gas. It’s a good thing my car is nearly on empty.
He doesn’t speak while I pour the gas into my car’s tank, then return the can to the shed. If a storm knocks out our power, I’ll have to go to town for fuel, but at least I know there won’t be a repeat of last night. The strong arms that wrap around me say that he knows it too.
A flash of white and black catches my eye as we’re headed to the house. “Look!” I point toward the bird that’s landed on a bush on the far side of the shed. “It’s a shrike!” Careful not to scare it away, I creep closer until I see something even more fascinating. “It’s nesting here!” I whisper, barely containing my excitement.
The thornbush is a gruesome sight that would disgust most people. In one area, multiple small animals hang impaled on the thorns, in different stages of decay. “They’re the most fascinating birds,” I breathe.
Reeve keeps his voice low. “Is that why you chose Shrike as a pen name?”
His face remains impassive when I spin around in shock. He knows who I am. No one here knows who I am. “How do you know that?”
His eyebrows climb his forehead. Right, he doesn’t answer questions. “I’ve always known you, Darcy.” His gaze returns to the bush just as the shrike flies away. “Tell me why you chose your pen name.”
No one here is supposed to know who I am. It was a big reason for moving. Anonymity and the freedom it affords me. Imagine the story he could tell of the crazy author who had no problem fucking a stranger who stalked her. The alarm I feel fades as I look at him. I’m not sure why, but I don’t believe he’ll tell anyone. Not about me or about us.
My attention returns to the bush. “Like I said, they’re fascinating. They’re sometimes called butcher birds. They hunt their prey—vertebrates like small rodents, lizards, even other small birds—then kill them by biting their neck and shaking them back and forth until the spine snaps. Afterward, they impale them on a thorn to store them.” He listens intently while I continue. “Did you see the tiny black strip of coloring across its eyes? It’s like a mask. You look at them and see a pretty songbird, but they behave like a raptor.” Shrugging, I step back. “My books are about killers, monsters in plain sight. It seemed fitting.”
“Makes sense.” He runs his hand under my chin, lifting my head until our eyes meet. “It’s not completely true, though, is it? You aren’t only fascinated by the behavior. You admire it. You love the bird because it’s a predator. You don’t have to be ashamed of that, Darcy, or hide it from me. We’re all animals trying not to act like one, fighting our nature because underneath, at our core, we’re barely restrained malice held back by will and conditioning. Darkness lives underneath the layers built by society.” He leans and kisses my lips softly, then whispers against them. “And I see it in you.”
His declaration leaves me speechless, but one thought beats through my head. He’s not wrong. All of my experiences have proven to me countless times what we really are.
Animals with human faces.