Cruel Intoxication (Underground Kings 4)

Taking a leap of faith is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do right now. Swallowing my fear, I realize I don’t really have a choice but to trust him. I have nowhere else to go. I’ll die in these woods if I don’t take him up on his offer.

Once again, I slide my hand in his palm and sigh when the warmth seeps into my veins, giving me the bit of strength I need to stand on my

weak legs.

A smile blooms over his face when he sees that I’ve trusted him again. It’s a pretty smile, one I can tell that doesn’t get used often since there are no laugh lines around his mouth, but he does have a hint of Crow’s feet around his eyes, probably from narrowing them so often.

He hasn’t been a happy man.

I walk toward the tent, hands still clasped, and he unzips the flaps of the black tent. “I’ll get you some more blankets. I’m sure you’re cold. Don’t be afraid to ask me for anything, okay? I’ll be right outside. I’m not going to leave you alone. You aren’t going to be alone again, okay, Jolie? Your nightmares are over. I’ll make sure of it.”

I drag my eyes from the tops of his shiny boots and skim his body, ignoring the wide chest invading my vision. I tilt my head back and see his sculpted jawline, Roman nose, and high cheekbones. I hold my breath, afraid to move, afraid to breathe.

Something swirls between us.

Maybe it’s just the wind.

I know it’s something I want to ignore. Men aren’t good for the soul. They love to suck the life out of you until there’s nothing left, leaving you weaker than ever. I let go of his hand and climb inside the tent. I cover myself with the soft plaid blankets and lay my head against the pillow.

He zips up the tent to give me privacy, and something inside me says I need to speak up. “Thank you, Owen,” I whisper, my eyes growing heavier with every second that passes.

“You’re welcome, Jolie,” he says as the teeth of the zipper grind together as they close me in the tent by myself. “Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

For some odd reason, his presence, his honesty, his protection, they bring me comfort. Maybe it’s because my instincts know I’m not alone. My heart tells me I’m safe which is odd because I haven’t felt that in a really long time.

Something even scarier enters my mind.

What if I get used to the safety?

It’s a feeling I’ll get used to, but what happens when it is taken away from me?

I want to stay in this tent forever.

Maybe then the outside world will leave me alone, and I’ll be safe.

Five

Owen

The fire’s going out, and the sun is starting to set which brings in colder air and the sound of crickets. The croaking of frogs sings by the river, and an owl hoots somewhere in the distance. It’s peaceful. This is the life. This is what I’ve needed.

And having Jolie here, it’s taken my mind off the pain of Annabeth, which only makes me feel guilty. My mind should always be on her, no matter the circumstances. I unscrew the cap on the new bottle of whiskey and take a bigger swig. The burn scorches my throat, but it doesn’t burn away the pain.

Taking care of Jolie temporarily sidetracked my mind.

I pour some alcohol on the dwindling fire and bring it back to life. I lean back to lay on the forest floor, the leaves crunching from my weight, and as I look through the tops of the trees, I sigh. The stars twinkle as I stare at the sky. I think about Annabeth and how suddenly things feel different this year. I don’t know how or why, but I’m tired of hurting.

I think I’ve reached the breaking point.

I’m not sure when it happened. I know I’ll always miss the life I never had. I never want to move on or love another, but I’m ready for my heart to not hurt every time I take a fucking breath.

Maybe seeing Jolie all fucked up and nearly starved to death put my life in perspective. It’s been twenty years since Annabeth and my daughter died. There are terrible things happening to people now, people who aren’t mourning for twenty years, but actually trying to move on with their lives, to be better, to get better.

I haven’t tried.

Not once.

I never cared to.