Intense, helpless grief ruptured behind my ribs, and my chest collapsed in agony. With the pain, came the events of the night, crashing into me, each one punching that painful spot, over and over. The bullet in Michio’s chest, the intimate moment with Jesse, Annie’s premonition, the Drone’s survival, the evolving aphids. And the final punch…I might never see Michio again. Never feel his arms around me again. Never taste his lips. Hear his voice.
I buckled at the waist and gripped the concrete ledge, my mind shutting down as if trying to evade the painful reality. He’d left to kill Aiman. To protect me. Because he loved me. Everything else blurred into one giant Fuck.
Jesse and Roark stood on either side of me, their eyes gentle and watchful, and their weapons now sheathed. They remained quiet, giving me time to compose myself. But worry radiated from their taut postures. They needed answers.
I sucked in a few breaths, pulled myself together, and shared what Michio had told me. As I spoke, Roark offered me his hand, and I twined my fingers with his. Then I braced myself as I finished the recitation with, “We had sex.”
Jesse grew deadly still beside me, as if everything from his chin down had been forgotten in lieu of whatever was crashing and burning inside his head. He just stood there, expressionless, his eyes on me but not really looking at me. He didn’t blink. Didn’t speak.
I wasn’t sure he was breathing. “Say something.”
That got me a blink. His eyes cleared, focusing on mine, his voice in a state of suspended feeling. “I’m processing.”
I shot Roark a look. “Then you say something.”
His eyelids half-shuttered, framed by a tangle of blond dreads, and his mouth crooked up as if he were on the verge of a colorful insult. But the jade of his eyes became harder, unsmiling, consumed by some internal decision and darkened by a ruminating brow.
Then a somber line replaced the sarcastic smirk. “He didn’t bite ye. Didn’t take ye off the property. And didn’t force ye to have sex.” He rolled a broad shoulder. “Fair play.”
Roark was the epitome of agreeable. He was the wisecracker, the counselor, the roll-with-the-punches guy. So it was easy to forget that when he did strike, it was with lethal decapitation. And beneath that happy-go-lucky exterior, he nurtured some serious passions, one of them being a fierce protection of my heart.
Which was why I wasn’t surprised when he shifted into my space, his muscled chest flexing and pushing around me. “But if he tells another spoof, I'll smash his bloody testicles until they turn square and fester.”
Spoof? “He didn’t really lie, per se.”
“He omitted. Same difference.”
My hackles went up, and I bit my bottom lip to keep from lashing out. Michio had kept his secrets to protect me.
“There was never any ill-intent,” I said.
“Hey, I get your need to defend him.” He looked down at me, his brogue warm and thick. “But he’s a risk.”
“It's not about the risk. It's about persevering, and shattering the boundaries we’re facing, and learning from it. Becoming better people for it.” I stared across the hush gloom of the valley, my skin dripping from the humidity. “Michio’s secrecy wasn’t acceptable. But he wasn’t the only one keeping secrets.” I glanced at the silent man at my side.
Jesse strode away, stopping at the far-side of the roof to collect my knives, his expression concealed by shadows.
Roark nodded at Jesse. “That one’s a risk, too. If he puts a child in ye, and that child takes your life, to hell with persevering. I wouldn’t want to.”
My womb tightened against his words. “I still have the IUD, and he’s…” I peeked at Jesse’s dark silhouette. “Determinedly abstinent.”
“And pissed.” Jesse marched back to us and handed me the knives. “I told you not to fuck him.”
The disgust in his voice made me feel dirty, cheap, and yeah, really fucking defensive.
I turned to face him, straightening to meet his furious gaze. “If it had been you instead of him, with your fertility taken away and a protective need to leave me, I would’ve done the same thing. I would’ve shown you I love you the best way I know how.”
Fire burned in his eyes as he said slowly and harshly, “I would never ask that of you.”
“You wouldn’t have to!”
“He’s afraid, love.” Roark locked eyes with Jesse. Something unspoken passed between them, something I didn’t understand, then Roark continued. “A little rivalry and jealousy is healthy. Jesse’s jealousy isn’t from greed but from love, and it’s nursed with worry.” His gaze lowered to mine. “Worry that he’ll lose you to a man who can offer you intimacy without killing you.”
Jesse glared at Roark like he wanted to throttle him but didn’t move a muscle. Nor did he deny what the priest had said.