“Did Ink speak with you about increasing the rations for the children?” I asked Jebediah, my mood now sour and impatient to get away from here and find Ink.
Jebediah nodded but said nothing. One of the itty-bitty changes he had implemented was a reduction in rations for everyone. Instead of three meals a day, we were down to two, breakfast and dinner. Even though rations were always tight in the lead up to winter, we always made sure everyone got three square meals a day, especially the children.
“And?” I asked, a little exasperated, and probably pushing whatever button had set off Jebediah’s crazy.
As expected, Jebediah grinned, then stuck that awful forked tongue out of his mouth to flick one of the rings in his lower lip. It was disgusting.
“As I explained to Ink, my little bird, we have extra mouths to feed with me and my men here. So we all need to sacrifice to survive the winter.”
I wanted to tell him if he and his men would just fuck off we’d be fine. But I didn’t. I held my tongue, somehow, and huffed out a frustrated breath.
“However delightful I find your company,” Jebediah’s gaze dipped to my breasts. I wanted to cross my arms or flip him off, I did neither because I didn’t want him to know he was getting to me. “Robbie the Rumbler and I have business to discuss. If you’d like to continue this delightful dialogue, you could go wait in my cabin. Jeze is out, we’ll be alone.” He did another perusal of my body which left me feeling used and dirty. My glare shifted from him to Robbie. Robbie seemed as if he couldn’t care less, and I found myself wanting to slap them both. Instead, I turned and walked off to the sound of Jebediah’s hysterical laughter.
I found Ink hunched over a pipe that was squirting water in every direction. Trigger was crouched down beside him, using a wrench to try and tighten a joint Ink was struggling to hold. The muscles in his forearms and biceps were flexing with the effort, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes rest on them for a moment longer than what would be considered appropriate. The swelling around his eye had gone down, his bruises beginning to fade into an ugly brownish yellow. His ribs were still bothering him, and according to Ashlynn, they were likely bruised and would take a few weeks to be one hundred percent. Mind you, she hadn’t been able to X-ray or check them herself because he was ‘too busy’ to go see her, so she was only guessing. Another soldier, Handy Andy, stood watching Ink and Trigger. He was called Handy Andy because he was handy at fixing things… like broken pipes.
“Shouldn’t you be the one down there fixing, and them up here watching?” I asked as I approached.
Handy Andy looked up and smiled my way, reaching out his fist for a bump. “Nah, figured the half an hour it takes them to fix it would help distract them for a bit. That water is also damn cold. I’d rather stay dry.”
“Or you could have switched the water off and fixed it half an hour ago, then we’d be having a drink about now,” Trigger added.
“Or a shower,” Ink mumbled.
Handy Andy grinned and bumped my shoulder with mine. “How’s it going, Grace,” he asked.
“It’s going,” I murmured, my greedy eyes dropping to Ink’s wet shirt which was clinging to the muscles of his chest and abdominals I’d been privy to this last week. So engrossed in gawking, I didn’t notice when Ink turned my way, Trigger having tightened the joint enough that it stopped spraying water.
“You okay, Gracie?” he asked, concern in his far too handsome gaze.
“Uh-huh,” I managed, feeling the burning heat in my cheeks at having been sprung ogling him.
The corner of Ink’s mouth twitched in such a way I thought he might have been fighting a smile.
Trigger stood beside him with a giant grin on his stupid face. “Check these out, Grace.” Trigger’s shirt was no less wet than Ink’s, and when I glanced down at his equally impressive chest, his pectoral muscle bounced, first together, then the right and left individually. As remarkable as it was, it wasn’t sexy, or at least not for me.
Now, maybe if Ink did it…
Ink slapped Trigger across the chest with the back of his hand.
“Cut it out.” His typical brooding scowl was firmly back in place. Stepping forward, he took my hand, linking our fingers like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I hid the little sigh that longed to slip through my lips every time he touched me, but the way Trigger and Handy Andy watched me with matching grins made me think that they saw straight through my unaffected façade. God, I hoped Ink didn’t. I’d humiliated myself enough where he was concerned. Ink flipped off his friends, and even though I found our new unacknowledged hand holding sweet, he was once again dragging me through the compound like a child.
I hated that. I was a woman for god’s sake, and I didn’t want to be hauled along behind him like some spoiled brat. He treated me so differently from everyone else, and it infuriated me. When he spoke to me, it was always with frustration and slipping patience, like a parent might do a wayward child. Maybe it was the lack of sleep, perhaps the stress over Jebediah and his militia, or perhaps I was just tired of Ink treating me like this, but I gave a hard tug of my hand and pulled my fingers free from Ink’s. Of course, he paused and glanced over his shoulder with a raised brow. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him, much the way Robbie had done to me. Ink exhaled loudly, and looked around us, perhaps wondering who was going to witness the tantrum I was about to throw.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“This,” I quietly hissed, trying not to gain the attention of the few people who passed us by.
Ink’s head tilted in thought. “This what?”
“You… dragging me around like a damned child. It’s embarrassing. I’m not a child, I’m a fucking woman.”
Surprise filled his face. I rarely swore, so when I did it meant my temper was beyond frayed. The asshole began to smile, and when I glared at him a little harder, he at least had the decency to hide his humor behind a hand that rubbed his full lips.
“Gracie,” he whispered, stepping closer. “Buttercup—”
“That right there… “ I snapped, pointing right in his face. “I hate that, too. Buttercup! You’ve been calling me that since I was a little girl and I’m not a damn little girl anymore.”
Taking a deep breath for patience, Ink nodded, agreeing.
“I know, Gracie.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
His fingers linked behind his neck and his gaze lowered to the ground. The movement enhanced the beauty in his muscular biceps, but I refused to admire anything about him when I was so angry. He seemed to be thinking hard about something, perhaps trying to find the fortitude to deal with my outburst. Slowly, those deep, dark eyes lifted and captured mine.
“It’s not my intention to treat you like a child.”
“That’s what it feels like,” I explained, trying to keep the snippy attitude out of my voice and failing. Fuck me, I sounded like a child, no wonder he was treating me like one.
“Trust me when I say, Gracie, when I look at you all I see is woman.” Ink’s hands fell from behind his neck, and he took another step forward, standing so close now my chest almost brushed his wet one. Then his tattooed hand rose until he reached the zip of my cardigan. With excruciatingly slow and deliberate movements, he pulled the tongue through the metal groove until he had exposed the V-neck shirt I wore beneath. He didn’t unzip all the way, just enough to get his hand inside and rest one finger at the base of my neck. My pulse was hammering, my stomach flipping and flopping, my mouth went dry and all the words sitting inside faded away. I was frozen, ensnared in the power of Ink’s intense stare, caught under the power of that single touch.
“You’re all woman, and you’re stuck in my head.” His finger began to trace an invisible line from my throat, down my chest. “I can’t shake you out, don’t even wanna try anymore.” When his finger reached the deep V in my shirt, he hooked it beneath the fabric and began to follow the line of the shirt, across
one breast that rose and fell rapidly. “If anything, I want you deeper. I want you so deep you couldn’t even wiggle free if you tried.”
His touch was like a flame, and my body responded in a way I was completely unfamiliar with. I’d touched myself enough to understand the logistics of ‘feeling good,’ but this was so different. I felt as if I was tangling with a beast who was way out of my league. But damn, did the beast feel good. The way Ink’s eyes followed the path of his finger, with molten desire simmering within them for me, I’d never felt so powerful and needy all at once. With that thought, I recalled all the times he’d belittled me and ignored me over the last year. The women he flirted with right in front of me after I’d declared my feelings for him. The hurt he’d inflicted on my heart over and over again. Stepping away from his body, I zipped my cardigan back up. It seemed to break whatever trance Ink had been trapped in, and he shook his head, glancing around with a curious flush to his cheeks.
Was he embarrassed about being caught touching me that way?
“I’ve lost count of how many times you’ve told me to ‘grow up’ over the last year or so.” The color in Ink’s face disappeared. “You’ve made it perfectly clear you can barely stand my presence, so excuse me if I don’t understand this new-found need to be close to me. You hurt me.”
“Gracie…” he began, his voice rough and raw. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not. What matters is… you did.”
He nodded, a bleak look on his face. “You’re right, I was a shit to you. I disrespected you, and I sure as hell don’t deserve your forgiveness. I want you to know how sorry I am, and that I had my reasons for the way I behaved. And although that behavior was shameful, my reasons were true and honest.”
Did I really want to know his reasons? There was so much hurt buried in my heart I wasn’t sure his reasons would make a difference. But at the same time, he had piqued my curiosity.
“Let’s go inside somewhere warm and we’ll talk.”
I raised a brow and sat my hands on my hips. “Are you embarrassed to be seen out here with me?”
With that, Ink smiled. He didn’t smile often, but when he did I’m positive the sun would get a little brighter, and the air a little warmer. That rare smile had the power to change the world around me. Or maybe it just changed the way I looked at the world.
“Buttercup, I’m proud of the woman you’ve become and want nothing more than to be seen with you, but I’m freezing my ass off here. I’m worried if I don’t get dry and warm soon, I’ll do permanent damage to my balls which I’m sure have turned blue.”
CHAPTER 6 – Ink
Gracie’s gaze dipped to my groin as if her eyes had a mind of their own. She blushed deeply when she realized what she’d done and was quick to look away. Clearing her throat, she nodded. Reaching out my hand, palm up, I waited for her to take it. Gracie didn’t know what I felt or thought, she had no idea of the strong, beautiful, resilient woman I saw standing before me. She assumed I was still looking at her and seeing a child, and I’d never given her any reason to think otherwise. My regret for how I’d treated her burned deeper, and I wished I could wipe the slate clean and do it over. Guilt was a useless bitch, though. Instead of lamenting on my shame, I decided to begin making amends with Gracie. First things first, I needed her to know I saw her as my equal.
Gracie stared at my open palm for a few short moments, then as her gorgeous mouth swung up into a smile, she placed her small hand in mind. Gently I laced my fingers through hers, my thumb rubbing soothing circles on the soft skin at the back of her hand.
“Okay,” she whispered.
Rather than tugging her through the compound like I usually did, I slowed my stride and we walked side by side in companionable silence. Once we reached her cabin, I unlocked the door, quickly checking that the cozy room beyond was empty. Even though the lock didn’t look as if it had been tampered with, I couldn’t help my driving need to protect Gracie.
Normally, we didn’t lock doors, but with Jebediah’s invasion of our safe community, I’d ordered Gracie to dig out the never before used key buried at the bottom of a drawer. Gracie didn’t bother with the light. Instead, she lit a lantern before making her way over to the old stove heater in the corner. Stripping off my wet shirt, I threw it to the floor. I hadn’t been kidding when I said I was freezing my ass off. My skin almost ached from the ice cold that had assaulted me outside. Gracie was quick to pick up my discarded shirt and added it to a pile of dirty clothes sitting in a basket by the bed. While she was a neat freak, I was the exact opposite. In my own room, most everything I owned had a place on the floor. Organized chaos I liked to call it. I should be more respectful of Gracie’s space and made a mental note to pick up my act right then and there. Using a towel, I dried off my skin as I sat on the side of her bed. Gracie tried in vain to look anywhere but at me.
“Buttercup.”
Her furious glare pinned me in place, and I raised my hands in a placating gesture. “Sorry, it just slipped out. Come sit,” I suggested, patting the space beside me.
She only hesitated a moment before she sat at my side. Taking a deep sigh, I rubbed my tired eyes.
“You need to understand, when I found you in the Underworld, my heart fucking broke. You were this tiny, thin rail of a girl, your hair was all matted, your face was dirty. I knew there were children in the Underworld, but seeing it and knowing it are two totally different things. I picked you up off the floor, and in that moment something inside me shifted. It was the first time I’d ever cared about anything on such a deep level. You weren’t mine in any sense of the word, but you were my responsibility.”
I turned to face her so she could see the honest truth in my eyes. “Just because you grew up doesn’t mean my sense of responsibility toward you is going to change. But what did change, and what I wasn’t expecting, was how I saw you. Fuck Gracie! You went from child to woman overnight. One minute I’m thinking of you as a pain-in-my-ass brat, and the next I’m thinking how perfect your breasts are.”
As expected, Gracie blushed.
“I didn’t know what to do with those feelings. I thought I was a fucking pervert. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I ran.”
“Why? It’s not like I was a child—”
“I know, but at the time I was having trouble reconciling between the child you had been and the woman you had become.”
“So, you thought you’d be mean to me?” she spat out.
“I thought I’d dissuade you. Your feelings for me were as clear as day, and I thought I needed to discourage that. I was an asshole because apparently, that’s something I clearly excel as.”
Gracie snorted, and the room became silent. “I understand, Ink. I get what you were feeling and why you did what you did, but you hurt me. I don’t have much in this world, but I was always content to know I had your friendship, and you took that away from me so ruthlessly it left me with whiplash. I’m not sure how that’s going to heal.”
Her words painted a hopeless picture, but instead of feeling despondent I warmed at the challenge of healing Gracie’s hurt. I wasn’t a healer by nature, but I’d never liked seeing Gracie in pain. She’d fractured her wrist during training when she was fourteen, and her tears had flayed me from the inside out. Ashlynn had set her wrist in a cast, and I’d spent weeks fussing over her, making sure she was comfortable and her pain non-existent. This hurt she felt now wasn’t from a visible wound, but it was no less painful, and I wanted to fix and soothe it just like when she was a young teen.
“I’m not running anymore, Gracie. I know I hurt you and I don’t expect your forgiveness. But you do need to know I’m not going anywhere, and I’m going to take all your anger until you’re empty of it. Then, just maybe, you’ll wake one day and see me as more than the asshole who broke your heart.”
Gracie sighed, her shoulders sagging forward. “You know I don’t have it in me to stay angry at you, Ink.”
“You might think that, buttercup, but I know you’ve got anger under that hurt.”
“Stop calling me that!”
I wasn’t sure I could, she was my buttercup, but not in the way she thought. “Have you ever seen a buttercup?”
Gracie shook her head as she cast me a wary look.
“They are this delicate flower, but at the same time, fierce. Did you know they’re poisonous?”
“You nicknamed me after a poisonous flower?”
Smiling, I nodded. “Fierce, remember? Anyway, Buttercups are bright and beautiful and grow wild just about anywhere. They’re kind of relentless, and strong, like you.”
Gracie’s lips fell into a perfect ‘O.’
“But, because you don’t like it I’ll try not to call you by that name anymore.”
“Well, it’s not that I hate it…” she began.
“I’ll probably slip up, old habits are sometimes hard to break.”
“That’s okay,” Gracie said, all the fire and anger in her voice gone.
Glancing her way, I found her gaze on my chest, and I resisted a smile. When she realized she’d been caught looking at me, her face predictably filled with color.
“It’s okay to look, Gracie.” She snorted but didn’t say anything. “In fact, I wish you would touch me like you do at night when you think I’m sleeping.”
Her embarrassment was so strong it almost permeated the air before it quickly turned to indignation. “You asshole,” she snapped, jumping from the bed.
“Gracie, I like it when you touch me,” I explained, trying hard not to laugh as she beat the blanket at the end of the bed into a perfect square.
“Whatever,” she grumbled.
“Buttercup, I pretend to be asleep because I figure if I let you know I’m awake you’ll stop. I’m that desperate for your touch I fake sleep. How pathetic does that make me?”
She finally stilled, and I stood from the bed, lifting her eyes to mine with a finger under her chin. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you. Your flesh is so soft, and warm, it’s like a beacon to my hands. But after today, I promise I won’t, not even when you’re sleeping, because buttercup, I want you to want my touch, not just in here…” I pressed my fingertips to the side of her head, “… but in here.” Then I moved them to her chest, right over her heart. “And we’ve got a ways to go before you’ll be ready for that. Meanwhile, feel free to take liberties with me, you can look and touch to your heart’s content,” I added with a voracious grin.
Liberty Page 7
