Even hurting Archibald, a man who’d had a gun to her head just three days earlier, brought her great anxiety. “Man up a little. It’s just rubbing alcohol.”
He grumbled, but as he looked up at her with those angry eyes of his, something was different about them then they had been before. The anger didn’t seem quite as genuine. He was softer at the edges.
Violet gingerly continued cleaning his wound. “Hey Archibald?”
“Remy.”
She looked up, a lone curl falling into her eye.
He itched to push it back. “My name is Remy.” Any woman who gave him the kind of peaceful night’s sleep Violet had should be calling him by his first name.
“Okay. Remy,” she said, softly, before continuing on with her original question. “If I’d kept running, would you have let me go? Back on the roof?”
He wondered how many times she was going to ask him this question, and he allowed his eyes to bore into her for a long while before answering.
“No.”
She didn’t like that answer. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He watched her stand, taking her wrist before she could walk away. “Why do you ask questions when you’re not ready to hear the answer?”
Violet hadn’t been ready. As she looked down into his icy blue eyes, wondering how they could be cold and warm all at once, she realized she still wasn’t. “I’m going to bed. I’ll bring you some pillows and blankets since you’re still not strong enough to make it upstairs.”
“Will you lay down with me?”
“No.”
“I won’t sleep.” He smiled against all his better judgment. “Not without you next to me.”
Violet swallowed.
“It was nice last night. I’d forgotten how good it feels to wake up with a beautiful woman in my arms. All warm and soft.”
“I wonder how warm and soft I would be if you’d shot me on the roof back in Redding, like you keep saying you would’ve.”
Remy didn’t know how to respond. For the first time, she seemed to understand just how big a risk she’d taken in taking him in so easily. Trusting him. He wanted her to trust him enough to lay with him, curl up next to him, maybe even let him make love to her while they were at it. He wanted all of that, but he knew what it would mean. So he released her wrist and let her walk away, keeping his mouth closed even as she brought him fresh pillows and blankets.
She retired to her room, and he got to work making his “bed,” staring hard at the staircase the entire time.
When the couch was perfectly made up it was all but calling his name, and he realized for the first time how tired he was. They’d spent all day going over the ins and outs of his case, who could have possibly been involved in Meredith’s murder, and just what steps they would have to take to keep him out of jail once they figured all this out.
As he stared across the room at the staircase, he couldn’t take another moment, circling the couch and limping over. He lingered at the bottom, watching the first step like it would be impossible to clear.
He favored his injured leg as he placed his foot on the first step, and when he put weight on it, he realized it definitely wasn’t impossible.
It was worse.
The red-hot pain that jetted across his body was out of control, almost paralyzing, and he hadn’t even cleared the first step. He took a tight hold of the railing as sweat droplets accumulated almost instantly on his forehead. He thought about just hopping up the steps on his good leg, to the bedroom.
To Violet.
A wave of dizziness almost overtook him before he could, and he was hurrying towards the couch in a panic, collapsing onto the pillows just in time.
Just before everything went black.
***
Violet was pulled out of a deep sleep by a blood curling scream, flying out of bed and down the steps faster than she realized her body was capable of moving. As she hurried into the living room, she caught sight of Remy’s legs kicking viciously on the couch, still in a deep sleep as he mumbled wildly to himself. The deep, v-shaped bones at his waist led a perfect triangular path down to a thick smattering of hair at his flat pelvis, where the sheet on his hips were mere inches from falling to the floor.
He was completely naked, and while the need to wake him from his nightmare was strong, Violet wasn’t sure she was ready to know just what this man was working with. She was already out of her mind without a vivid image of what his cock looked like thrown into the mix. From what she’d felt pressed up against her the morning before, she knew whatever he had down there wouldn’t disappoint.
Hurrying over, she fixed the sheet on his hips before placing a hand gingerly on his waist. She only had a moment to relish in the smoothness of his skin pulled tensely over his hard body. How could someone be so soft and so hard all at once?
She didn’t have much time to wonder, because he’d taken both her arms in a ferocious grip as his blue eyes flew open.
He gasped in a frenzied breath, registered the sight of Violet leaning next to the couch, and immediately released her arms. He ran his hands through his hair and fell back against the pillows, his eyes jammed closed.
“You were having a nightmare.” She placed her trembling hand back on his waist. “I’ve never heard anyone scream like that. It was straight out of a horror movie.” Her eyes dropped. “What’s in your head? What are you dreaming about?”
He dropped his hand from his hair and onto hers, gripping her fingers while continuing to stare at the ceiling. The hand that he still had in his hair was gripping it in frustration. “Why are you still here, V?”
“Why do we keep having this same conversation? I’m here because I believe in justice. The same reason you’re here.”
He finally looked at her, sitting up on his elbow. “You really think that’s why I’m still here?”
“Well that and the fact that you can’t walk, coupled with the fact that I hid the keys to the truck from you the day we got here, yeah.” She thought about her words, then smiled. “I guess you really are my hostage now.”
Truer words had never been spoken, but not in the way she must have thought. Remy took her cheek, and tugged her head to his, covering her lips with his softly. He let his lips live on hers, feel their warmth, enjoy their mere presence, before pulling gently away and darting his tongue out, licking her bottom lip softly. He gave her top lip the same careful attention before pushing his tongue passed the slit of her mouth with more force, cupping both her cheeks. When her tongue met his in the middle, he broke, deepening the kiss with vigor.
“Mmm,” he moaned, falling back on the couch when she immediately straddled his hips, cupping his own face in her hands while tilting her head, searching hungrily for his tongue with hers, delving as deep into his warm mouth as possible.
Violet was the first to pull away, burying her face in his neck. “Oh god.”
Remy clawed a chunk of her hair in his hand as he kissed the side of her neck relentlessly, gasping into her skin. “This is why I’m still here, V… only this.” Blindly, his big hand went to her waist and held her steady as his hips bucked upward, pressing his hardness against her, searching blindly for release.
Violet cried out, unable to stop her own hips from pressing down against him, rotating them in kind. The thin sheet did nothing to disguise his rock hard heat, and the moment it brushed her clit through the fabric, and blasted her with pleasure, she knew she was a woman gone. “This is bad.”
“Very bad.”
“We should stop.”
“You’re going to have to be the one to do it.” He didn’t have the strength, or the heart. He wanted her too much, wanted to know if the rest of her tasted as good as her lips. “You should’ve known how far this would fall when you kissed me at the gas station.”
She pulled back, her eyes searching his. “I thought you didn’t remember?”
“I’ve been trying to forget.”
He leaned up with his lips parted, hun
gry for more of hers, but she pulled back, instead allowing her body to curl into a small ball in front of him. A few silent moments passed before the sheet and blanket suddenly came down all around her, cloaking her in a glorious warmth that was second only to the warmth of his big arm curling around her body from behind, pulling her to him. His hardness was there, just as it had been the morning before.
“I need you really bad, V,” he whispered into her ear. He didn’t realize he was begging until it was too late. “How did I ever get a moment of rest without you?”
She smiled softly. “You didn’t.”
Their desire was quelled only by their exhaustion, and they both fell into a quick sleep, falling easier and easier into sleep every night. Deeper and deeper into the little world they’d concocted in that house. It was only a matter of time before they’d have to open the front door and confront the real world, again, but for now they had this.
And it was enough.
***
As the days rolled on, the rain dried up, as well as the flooded roads. Now that people could come in and out of the area once more, Violet knew that time was, once again, of the essence, and she reviled it. She wasn’t ready. Waking up that evening from the nap they’d fallen into, without Remy’s arms around her, only made her realize that she never wanted to know the feeling of waking up without him, again.
Night was quickly falling, and with sleepy eyes she found him standing in the open grassland at the back of her house, watching the sunset behind the mountains with his arms crossed over his chest. Even from behind him, she could see the muscles in his large arms jutting out from where he had them crossed so tightly, and the urge to wrap her fingers around them was strong.
A week ago he wouldn’t have been able to stand out here for as long as he had been that evening. Checking her watch, Violet realized it had been almost an hour that he’d been out here, just watching the sunset over the mountain range in the distance. His leg was healing quickly, and she selfishly longed for it to slow down.
Approaching him from behind with her own arms crossed over her chest, she came quietly up next to him. He didn’t turn to her when she came to a stop, shoulder to shoulder, but she heard him breathe in deep.
“You’ve been out here for a while.” She glanced at him, and melted at the sight of his closed eyes, the look of pure serenity on his face.
“In prison they let us go outside everyday, because it’s the supposed humane thing to do… letting us see the sun, feel it on our skin… but…” His eyes slowly opened. “I still feel like I haven’t really felt sunlight in seven months.”
“Being a former pilot you must have had a lot more to miss than the rest of them. You were one of the few lucky souls on Earth whose job gave him a front row seat to a view like this.” She motioned to the sunset. “Man, from the flight deck… it must have been just magical. I can’t imagine the beauty you saw up there.”
Remy looked at her, saw her kind brown eyes looking back, and couldn’t fathom that, just a week ago, this woman had been a stranger to him. She had no reason to trust him, but she had, she did. She was still here with him. Somewhere in her saccharine heart she’d found the will to lay with a degenerate like him, hold him, allow him to hold her and wake up with his nose in her hair every morning. They hadn’t made love, even amongst his protestations that he’d make it the night of her life, but she was still there. For the first time, he felt the horror of how it would break him if she ever decided not to be.
He yearned to tell her that the beauty he’d experienced in the flight deck didn’t hold a candle to the beauty that stood before him now. Cocoa skin, doe eyes, heart for days… she was beauty. She was his truth. The truth he saw every time he looked at her.
Tears instantly threatened his eyes, and he turned away from her before she could see them come to fruition.
“It was, V. It was beautiful.” He did miss flying. He missed it the same way he would miss breathing if someone had taken him in a chokehold right that second. Losing his license had been like losing a limb. They may as well have cut off his air supply, because without it he felt as good as dead. If she wasn’t in his presence, keeping his sanity afloat, reminding him that there was still a reason to breathe, he would surely be dead by now, from the sheer agony alone. “If I’d known you before all this… I would’ve shown it to you.”
“Yeah? You would’ve let me into the flight deck?”
“I might’ve even let you wear my hat.”
Violet gasped dramatically.
“Hey,” Remy scolded her mockery. “My hat was very special to me.”
“Are pilots even allowed to let people into the flight deck, post 9/11?”
“No… but I would’ve done it for you.”
“Were you just determined to be in jail, or what? It’s bad enough that you went and got yourself framed for murder, but it sounds like you were well on your way to prison anyway. Letting hot girls into the flight deck? Is breaking the law some kind of tick that you have?” Violet couldn’t make sense of the emotional upheaval that began inside of her the instant he smiled. “Why did you become a pilot, anyway? Flying takes a serious toll on your body in so many ways, and it couldn’t have been safe being exposed to all the harmful radiation up there. Being away from home as much as you were must have been so lonely. Was it worth it, Remy?”
Remy sighed. “If I had to do it all again… I wouldn’t hesitate.”
“Why? What is it about flying?”
“I flew my first plane with my father when I was five. The moment he gave me the controls… I knew it. I felt it. Everything was different. Other kids my age were thinking about Star Wars and porn. All I thought about was flying.”
“Was your father a pilot?”
“Yep, started in the Army and didn’t stop until they made him,” he laughed. “He’s a serious guy. Not physical, you know.”
“What do you mean, not physical? He didn’t touch you?”
Remy immediately jumped to his father’s defense. “It’s just who he was. I know he loves me. But he’s never kissed me goodnight, or hugged me goodbye. He was just closed for business on that front. The only time he ever really touched me was when he held me in his lap in the flight deck. The only time he looked at me… was when we were flying.” Remy ran his hand down his face. “I don’t know why I love it so much. Maybe it’s because of him. Or maybe I liked that it was such a lonely job, the perfect way to disappear. Maybe I was just looking for something.”
“Like what?”
“I dunno, V. I’m just a weary pilgrim.” He sighed. “I’m just trying to find what feels like home.”
Violet’s mouth dropped, and she struggled not to laugh. “You didn’t actually just quote a lyric from Travelin’ Through?” It was her favorite song, and she was shocked that he knew it.
Remy looked just as shocked as her, and a blush crept to his cheeks. “I keep forgetting you’re from Louisiana. Of course you know Dolly Parton when you hear it.”
“Uh, duh.”
Remy laughed, turning to face her completely. “You caught me. I’m a fraud.”
Violet sang the next lyric to the song, her smile widening when Remy joined her.
They finished the line sloppily, solidifying that neither of them would be selling any platinum albums anytime soon, before falling into a fit of laughter.
Violet went to step away, but Remy caught her arm and pulled her back. When she was within reach, he slung his arm around her waist unexpectedly, pulling her body to his with a surprising intensity. The feel of his strong legs pressing against hers took over her senses, and they went into overdrive when his other hand found hers, tickling her palm with the beds of his fingers. A gleam of uncertainty hit his face for only a moment, but it was quickly overridden with something else. Something much more powerful. He raised their hands in the air next to their heads, fingers intertwining unevenly as he began a slow sway, eyes riveted to hers.
He sang the next line to her, eyes g
oing to her smiling lips when his voice broke.
Violet gasped when he pulled her in closer. She’d never been a great dancer. In fact, she’d venture so far as to call herself clumsy. She never had been good at being led, and usually intimidated the man by trying to take control, but the movement of her feet seemed to follow Remy’s effortlessly. She only felt his bare toes under hers a couple of times before they found the perfect rhythm. He swayed them slowly, keeping up a simple rhythm with the occasional two-step thrown in.
She breathed in his scent as he pressed his lips to her ear, feeling them move as he sang, his breath hitting her skin with a gentle warmth that jetted across her entire body. Unable to help it, she turned her head into his neck, brushing the tip of her nose along the crease that separated his neck and jawline, taking in his scent as they swayed. When he brought their clasped hands to his chest and cradled them there as he moved, she could feel his heartbeat through both of their hands.
She couldn’t help a smile as they finished humming the song together, never breaking their slow sway.
Violet ran her fingers under her tearstained eyes, hiding them in his chest. “Dolly always gets me.”
She felt the vibration of his voice against her cheek as he responded. “It’s a great song. I never thought about it, but it really describes us to a tee.”
“I never thought about it, either.”
It was an upbeat song with a deeper message about courage, perseverance, and redemption. Three things he’d convinced himself were myths until the moment he’d taken this woman in his arms. Now he knew that not only were all three possible, but so much more. “Listen to it some day, when I’m not around, and I guarantee you’ll think of me.”
Violet couldn’t tell Remy that he was already everything she thought of. She couldn’t tell him that the thought of him not being around not only hurt her, but was downright unbearable. When he clutched her and shook her by the waist, gently, she raised her head. They were so close she could feel his chest brushing hers and trace the darker blue designs in his serious eyes. His heart pounded, and she didn’t know how she’d missed the arousal pressed firmly against her stomach until that moment.
Dead or Alive Page 13
