Love and Decay

by Rachel Higginson

While I tried to decide whether to laugh or punch him, Diego slapped him on the back of the head. The soldier shrugged unapologetically and continued to grin lasciviously at me.

  I turned around and headed for the first familiar face I could find. I had no intention of leading Diego’s guy on and I was pretty confident Diego had warned all his men to stay away from the single women in our traveling party, but I also didn’t want Miller, the Rage Machine, to turn his fury on innocent perverts either.

  It was one thing for him to fight Santi after being goaded. It was another thing entirely to start a war with the Mexican territories.

  “Rough day?” Adela asked as I plopped down next to her.

  She had taken refuge next to the skeleton of a building. Her back leaned against a half wall, demolished and surrounded by debris. And her long legs stretched out in front of her, catching the sun from the knee down.

  It was cool in the shade and the chill crept over my arms and thighs as I sat on the cold concrete. I looked out at our camp and tried not to feel sorry for myself. The scientists huddled in close community, pouring over the notes they’d taken at Diego’s compound. Diego’s men stood idly together, too, one eye on the dwindling fight and one eye on the rest of the world. Guns sat at their hips and blades stayed strapped to their backs. I shook away grim thoughts of Miller and decided I was glad they were with us.

  Even if it was only temporary.

  “I don’t understand men,” I confessed to Adela.

  Her hand landed on my knee. “You and me both.”

  I turned to face her, hoping for some sage wisdom, but her attention was fixed elsewhere. When I followed her gaze, I still couldn’t figure out what she was looking at.

  “Do they always act like jackasses? Or do they eventually grow out of that stage?”

  She smiled, even though it was distant. “If they grow out of it, I haven’t seen it.” Her accent made her words more expressive and lilting, but her tone remained melancholy.

  We fell into thoughtful silence for a few minutes. I didn’t know how to explain my frustrations or talk through my feelings and I got the impression that Adela didn’t exactly have the best advice for me.

  “He’ll apologize,” she finally said.

  “What?”

  “Miller. Maybe Santi too. They’ll apologize for acting like children. They’ll ask for your forgiveness and tell you they’ll never behave that way again.”

  I looked at her again. Her dark hair had been braided beneath a red bandana that set off her caramel skin and kept her dark, heavy waves out of her face. Her equally dark eyes stared at the horizon with a spirit of confusion I’d only glimpsed from her before. She seemed… lost.

  I waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, I had to ask, “Then what?”

  She blinked once. Twice. A tear fell from the corner of her eye but she swiped it away with the back of her hand. “He’ll promise to stop being a drug lord and become a warlord instead.”

  I was too stunned to speak. My mind spun with all of the facts I knew about Adela and Diego, trying to piece them together to make sense of this new information. But I couldn’t. I didn’t have enough of their backstory.

  I didn’t know enough about Adela’s past or Diego’s sordid history to solve this puzzle.

  “You love him?” It was an inane question and totally crude. But I couldn’t help but ask. I mean… this was shocking. Adela never opened up like this.

  She finally turned to face me. “Do you love Miller?”

  “No,” I answered quickly. “Not like that. At least not yet.”

  She jerked her chin to where Miller was being restrained across from Santi, who was also being held back. “And if he acted like that every day… if he couldn’t turn that off… if it was part of who he was… who he would always be… would you let yourself fall in love with him?”

  Yes, I thought immediately. No, quickly followed. I chewed my bottom lip and wiped my sweaty palms on my leathers.

  Maybe.

  Adela misread my silence and said, “You wouldn’t. You couldn’t love a man like that. You’re too good, Page Parker. You’re too much light. The darkness in a man like that would eat you alive.”

  Even as she gave her warning, I wondered if that was true.

  I also wondered if it was too late for me.

  Had I already fallen for Miller?

  Had he already started to eat me alive?

  “Are you going to stay with us, Adela?” The question fell out of my mouth without thought. I didn’t even realize I’d been worried about her leaving us until this moment.

  She stared at her feet. “I haven’t decided yet.”

  “Can I talk to you?”

  I blinked up at Miller. He stood over me, his shadow getting lost in the shade of the half wall I leaned against.

  “Please?”

  I felt Adela’s I-told-you-so glare, but I ignored her. Miller had never been a drug lord. I wasn’t positive about the whole warlord thing yet, but I was almost positive I could talk him out of that.

  Mostly positive.

  He held out his hand and after a slight hesitation, I took it. He pulled me to my feet and I absorbed the sight of his bloody, swollen lip and the dark bruise blooming over his right cheek.

  “What do you want, Miller?”

  He glanced down at Adela. “Can we go somewhere private?”

  “Are you going to try to punch something?”

  His brows furrowed in frustration. “Page.”

  “Miller.”

  Deciding not to deal with my crankiness, he grabbed my hand and tugged me along. We stayed silent as we passed all the people that belonged to us and some that didn’t. Hendrix raised an eyebrow at me as he subtly stepped in between Santi and Miller as we walked by. I shook my head once to let him know that I was okay.

  I could tell it took a lot for Hendrix not to intervene. He had always been so good at protecting me from danger, and right now Miller seemed like a pretty big threat. But this was a battle I had to figure out on my own.

  Unlike before in the church, however, this was not an amusing way to torture my older brother.

  Miller took me back inside the old church where I’d recently survived the most awkward moments known to mankind. The sunlight yielded to bright fingers stretching through broken stained glass windows. The temperature dropped again, wrapping the cool stillness around us. We picked our way through vines, long grasses and broken debris until we were far enough inside to ensure some privacy.

  When Miller turned to face me, I tugged my hand free from his. I didn’t wait for him to speak or apologize or get the first word out. “What was that out there? What’s your deal with Santi?”

  “With Santi?” he scoffed. “After everything that happened today, you’re worried about Santi?”

  I held up a hand. “Don’t. I can’t do anymore jealous rages. If you have an issue with Santi, bury it. Shove it deep down inside, because I honestly have no patience for it.”

  He looked at me with wide, incredulous eyes. “Bury it? That is the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

  “It’s not advice! It’s instructions. The truth is I can’t ever witness that again. If I ever see you attack Santi because you’re jealous of something that doesn’t exist, I’ll… I’ll…”

  “Castrate me?”

  I lifted my chin. “I was going to say punch you in the face, but that works too.”

  “This is impossible.” He took a step towards me. “You’re impossible. I don’t know how you expect me to get along with Santi after everything that’s happened between you. That’s like-”

  “Nothing happened between us! Nothing ever happened between us. We kissed a couple of times. And it wasn’t even like it is with you! When we kissed it was just… I don’t know… It just didn’t feel… It felt wrong. Santi felt wrong.”

  Miller could have said a hundred different things. I watched as all of the differing angles flitted over his face as he decided which on
e of them he would pick. In the end, though, he heeded my warning and a very slow, very slight smile appeared on his face, lifting the corners of his beautiful mouth. “But I feel right?”

  I rolled my eyes. “How did I know you would pick up on just that one thing?”

  He took another step toward me, the anger leaving him in waves and vibrations, replaced with something else… Something darker… hotter… more dangerous. He was less crazed flame of fury and more stalking predator, hunting down its supper.

  His lips tilted in a half smile. “Say it, Page. Tell me, I’m right.”

  There was an urgency to his tone, something pleading and near desperate. I couldn’t deny him. Even though I was furious with him, I couldn’t keep this from him. “You feel right, Miller. Of course you do. I haven’t even thought of Santi in that way since… since you kissed me. And to be honest, I hadn’t really thought all that much of him before you kissed me. He was just a way to, I don’t know, pass time or something. I was tired of being the only person left on earth to not have kissed a boy. It was obnoxious.”

  “Page, you’re killing me.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. It was fun to torture Miller.

  Until he started torturing me.

  His arms wrapped around me, pulling a sharp gasp from within me. His lips crashed to mine, demanding something else from me… something hungry and needy.

  He moved his mouth against mine with insightful intensity. They were warm and soft against mine, a surprising contrast from the tough hardness of his body.

  He tasted like blood, dirt and the tang of sweat at first, but that quickly disappeared into something addicting. Into something I wanted to devour. His hands pressed against my spine, holding me close against him, crushing me to his chest.

  I sighed into him. I couldn’t help it. This was Miller. This was Miller kissing me. And despite how imperfect my world was… my future… everything else in my life, this kiss was perfect.

  Just when I didn’t think this moment could get any sweeter, he swept his tongue over my bottom lip. And when I opened my mouth, he tangled his tongue with mine. The taste of him on my own tongue was too much.

  A riot of butterflies swept through my belly and I shivered from the aggressive sensations of bliss and want. My hands slid up and over his chiseled chest and wrapped around his neck. I loved the feel of his warm body pressed against me. I loved how his skin seemed to heat beneath my touch, how he reacted to every little caress of my hands and taste of my mouth.

  He was just as intense and focused when he kissed me as he was with anything else in his life. Miller wasn’t capable of doing anything halfheartedly or with minimal effort. He threw himself into this kiss, the way he fought… the way he battled… the way he held his demons at bay.

  With unrelenting purpose.

  He kissed me like he was a man dying of thirst and I was a fresh spring of water.

  Like he was starving and I was the meal that would save his life.

  Like he was suffocating and I was air.

  Like he was trapped in darkness and I was the first rays of light.

  And maybe that was true. Maybe I was light for this tortured, tragic boy.

  The thought filled me with an anxiety I didn’t understand. Clouds gathered in my mind and warned that I couldn’t save Miller this way. No matter what I did or how much I cared for him, the only person that could save Miller… was Miller.

  He deepened the kiss, forcing my attention back to him and the delicious things he was doing with his tongue.

  I gave in to him. I released my grim thoughts and let him take me to a different place. His mouth moved over mine, greedy… desperate for more. His hands splayed against my back, each finger pressing tightly against me.

  I gasped an equally frantic sound and he growled in response, low and deep from the back of his throat. And just like that, like a flash of lightning in a stormy sky, something changed in him.

  He stopped holding back… stopped fighting whatever it was inside him that forced him to be polite and respectful. His teeth sunk into my bottom lip and I jumped in surprise. Just as quickly as he’d caused pain, he ran his tongue over it, soothing and teasing.

  He walked me backwards, pushing me against the wall. My body hit the crumbling stone hard enough to kick up dust from the rafters and rain down on us. We kissed, hardly noticing.

  I ran my hands over his nape, tangling my fingers with his hair. His hands started to move over me too, as he tore his lips from mine to explore my jawline and neck.

  I made a sound I’d never made before as his hands slid under my shirt, touching bare, naked skin. I gasped again as he pressed his superheated palms against my ribs. His thumbs played with the edge of my bra. His mouth trailed kisses down my neck, sucking, biting, nipping.

  I was blinded by too many sensations. This was too much. My breath caught in my throat. My chest panted heavily as if I’d just run miles. My legs started to shake. My fingers went cold with nerves.

  He didn’t stop.

  He kissed the thrumming of my pulse in my neck, lingering there as he tasted the intensity of my emotions. I let one of my hands fall to his chest, where his heart beat just as fast.

  His mouth moved slowly over my throat. He took his time breathing me in, using his tongue to torture me. And all the while his fingers stayed in place, hot against my ribs and dangerously close to my bra, teasing me in their own way.

  “Miller,” I pleaded, even though I didn’t know what I was begging for.

  With his name on my lips he lost whatever little remnants of reason remained. He sucked at the curve of my neck, surprising me again with a bite of pain. At the same time his hand caressed my breast and I thought I would die from the sensation.

  I had never felt this before. Nobody had ever touched me like this.

  I didn’t recognize my voice or the sound I made. I didn’t even know I could make a sound like that.

  Miller pressed into me, kissing up my neck, over the line of my jaw. When his mouth found mine again, it wasn’t enough. I needed more… more of this kiss… more of him… more of… of something.

  His hand, the one that wasn’t driving me completely crazy at the moment, dropped down to my thigh. He gripped it in his huge grasp and lifted, encouraging me to wrap it around him.

  So I did.

  I wrapped my legs around his waist and he pressed into me, pinning me against the wall with the weight of him. I moaned into his mouth and tried to grab hold of my scattering senses.

  He seemed completely fine to hold me in place. Apparently he had no trouble standing… while I knew, I just knew if he set me down right now I would collapse in a heap of molten lava on the floor.

  “Page,” he whispered before slowing the kiss. At once he was more intimate and intense. This wasn’t the hungry, bruising kiss from before.

  This was meaningful. This was significant and soul-deep. This was breath-stealing and heart-hammering. This was Miller reaching so far inside me that I knew he would never be able to extricate himself completely.

  I would carry him with me forever now.

  He pressed our bodies closer together and I realized what I wanted. I realized what I needed.

  This was all new to me. I had never experienced anything like this. But now Hendrix and Nelson’s sex talk didn’t seem quite so stupid.

  My heart skipped in my chest and I tried to decide whether to smile or run away.

  This wasn’t slow.

  This wasn’t even close to slow.

  Miller pulled back and rested his forehead against mine. We both struggled to catch our breath, the air between us mingling together along with our desire.

  He pulled his hand out of my shirt as carefully as I’d ever seen him do anything. His fingers grazed my skin and I shivered from the sensation.

  Once his hand was free, he set me back on my feet with equal delicacy. His hands stayed on my hips, holding me there as if he knew I needed help standing up.

  I th
ought about opening my eyes, but I couldn’t find the willpower. I needed to bask in this moment, enjoy this incredible man that had managed to wrap himself so completely around my entire life.

  Although this was in an entirely new way…

  A way I had never expected from Miller.

  My face and neck tingled from where his longer-than-usual beard had scraped against my skin and my lips swelled from his demanding kisses. My heart still hadn’t evened out.

  I wondered if it ever would.

  Would he always make it beat this hard?

  Would he always bring this… this… side of me out so easily?

  “Say it,” he rasped.

  His voice startled me. I had been so cocooned in our silence that I’d almost forgotten we had the ability to speak.

  My eyes popped open, but his remained closed. Pain flashed across his face and my chest clenched with frantic emotion.

  “You’re right, Miller,” I whispered. “You’re right for me.”

  “Say it again,” he asked.

  Only it wasn’t a simple request; this was a desperate please. This man, this tough, hard, dominating man needed reassurance from me.

  Despite his guarantees that we could go slowly and that he wasn’t good enough for me… despite his resistance all those years to the very idea of me or a relationship with me… despite everything inside him that rebelled against having something meaningful and deep with another person… he needed me.

  He needed me to need him.

  But what he didn’t understand was that I had needed him since the day I met him.

  He had always been right.

  Always.

  “You’re right, Miller,” I said with a stronger voice. I let my hands caress his face, lying gently along his jaw. “You’ve always been right.” I cleared my throat and gathered my courage. “You will always be right.”

  His eyes snapped open and caught me in that hypnotic gaze. Those dark eyes burned through me, wanting to believe me… wanting to disagree with me.

  I felt his pulse speed up beneath my fingertips and watched his chest expand as if he were trying to suck in too much air. His broad shoulders lifted with a heaviness I couldn’t understand before dropping down again with a kind of defeated sigh.