Helena Hunting - Inked Armour

My teeth felt fuzzy, as if they were wearing sweaters, so I headed to the bathroom. I found the toothpaste in the medicine cabinet, brushed my teeth, and rinsed with mouthwash even though I wasn’t going to need fresh breath tonight.

Hand towels and washcloths were in the top drawer of the vanity. I ran a washcloth under hot water and washed my face, careful to avoid the scratches Hayden had cleaned. Since a shower wasn’t an option, I leaned against the edge of the sink and dragged the washcloth down my legs, the damp warmth pleasant.

There was a knock on the door and I called for Hayden to open it. He stood at the threshold with a pile of towels in one hand, a glass of water in the other. He wore pajama pants and nothing else. Usually he slept naked, so the pants were for my benefit and his discretion.

His eyes moved from my face down my body and back up. Then down. And back up.

“I thought you might want these in case you’re up before me. Unless you decide you’d rather shower at your own place, but I’ll leave them here so you have the choice.” He passed the towels over. “And I figured you might want a glass of water in case you got thirsty.” He passed that over, too.

“Thanks.” Hayden was obviously flustered. Seeing him like that made me want to laugh or cry, maybe both.

He rubbed the back of his neck, blinked a few times. “You picked the shorts.”

“The pants were too long. These are a little big, too. I’ll probably ditch them when I go to bed,” I said, not considering the implications.

His body was beautiful. The black lines of the phoenix came to an abrupt end just beyond the center of his broad chest. Then after a blank expanse of skin, a burst of color began at his shoulder and traveled down his right arm. The two halves of a whole. Although Hayden wasn’t so simple as to have a light and a dark side. Both sides espoused the dichotomy that he embodied; the bleeding heart on his forearm was wrapped in flowering vines, cracked on one side, blooming on the other. The koi traveling along his arm fought its way upstream. The lilies floating on the water changed from white and pink to dark purple, half-wilted by the time they reached his shoulder. Hayden’s dark and light sides merged, flowing into each other.

Tonight was the first time I truly saw how divided he was, and how much he battled to embrace the light. I had a feeling the tattoos on his back were a reflection of how dark he could get. One in particular was rather eerie, but whenever I’d asked to see it up close, he’d distracted me with other activities.

He’d lost weight while I was gone. Probably a good ten pounds, or more. The six-pack he sported was more pronounced, and a hint of bone was at his hips instead of layers of defined muscle covered with ink. His waist was narrower; his pants hung low to the point of obscenity. I gawked shamelessly.

He lowered a hand from the doorjamb to cover the problem that was rising below the waist. “I, ah—I’m gonna go now. To bed.”

“If that’s what you think is best.”

I yearned to reach out and trace the lines of the phoenix. Particularly where it circled the glint of metallic black piercing his nipple. And lower, where it disappeared under the waistband of his pants. He’d already shut me down once, though; I wasn’t about to try again. His hesitation was understandable.

“Yeah.” Hayden took a step back. “Bed is good.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, then.” I rolled up the waistband of my shorts once more for good measure.

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, eyes on my legs. “Unless you need me.” He gave his head a shake. “Something. Unless you need something. I’m just a few steps away.”

He turned and headed down the hall. I got a glimpse of the tattoo on his right shoulder, the one I hadn’t seen up close before. It looked like a child swaddled in a blanket, but its eyes were terrifying—ancient, evil, full of despair.

He looked over his shoulder when he reached his bedroom door. “Night, Tenley.”

“Night.” I smiled weakly. I wanted an invitation into his bed, even if it was just for sleeping. I craved the feel of his body close to mine. It was hard to be in his space and not next to him, yet it was just, considering what I’d put him through.

He went into his room, leaving the door ajar. TK came scampering down the hall and paused at my feet, rubbed herself against my leg, then trotted to Hayden’s bedroom. All of the things that had been mine weren’t anymore.

I heard him talking to her and considered the possibility that I might not have the right to take TK back. I’d been so neglectful of both of them. A few seconds later the light went out, and I was alone.

I left the towels on the vanity and took the glass of water with me to the spare room. Turning the covers down, I slipped between the cold sheets. I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep with Hayden so close and unreachable, but fatigue settled in, dragging me under.

A shout startled me awake. Disorientation incited panic, until I remembered I was in Hayden’s condo, sleeping in his spare bedroom. It was 7:00 A.M., which would have been a reasonable time to get up if I hadn’t gone to bed just two hours earlier. Another sound came from down the hall, the pitch low and masculine.

I slipped out of bed, testing my right leg before I put too much weight on it. It was still sore, but the Tylenol made it more manageable. I stole down the hall, the dim light from the bathroom the only illumination.

I silently pushed open the door. Hayden’s sheets were twisted around him, pillows scattered on the floor. His body was covered in a sheen of sweat despite the chilled air. TK was sitting on the floor, her fur standing on end. Hayden flailed and moaned plaintively. Words tumbled out of his mouth as he thrashed in the sheets, the grip of the nightmare too tight to escape from.

I hurried to the bed and climbed up beside him. I called his name quietly at first, then louder, until I had to yell. But he remained stuck inside his head. Out of options, I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a tentative shake, and another, and another.

He sat up with a start. His eyes darted aimlessly, scanning the room but not truly tracking. His gaze came to rest on me; wild and panicked. “Tenley?”

“It’s okay. I’m right here. It was just a dream.” I pushed his hair off his forehead.

Hayden caught my hands in his and brought them to his mouth, lips moving over my knuckles. He made a deep sound in the back of his throat, a hybrid of despair and relief. Then he started checking me over, patting me down. His hand smoothed over my chest and he looked at his palms, then he repeated the action, rambling about blood.

He found the hem of my shirt and his hand went underneath. His palm slid over my stomach and between my breasts, searching for something. Unsatisfied with what he found, he tugged my shirt over my head. His palm flattened against the center of my chest.

“It’s not there.” He looked over my shoulder, smoothing his hand down my back.

“What’s not there?”

“The bullet. There’s no bullet.”

“I’m fine, Hayden.” I put my hand over his and moved it higher. “See? I’m fine, there’s nothing there. It was a dream.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing. There’s no blood.” His breath left him in harsh pants.

Hayden enveloped me in a grip that made it hard to breathe. I rubbed slow circles on his back to comfort him, resting my chin on his shoulder. Lowering my face, I kissed his overheated skin. It was damp and salty with sweat.

“Please don’t leave me. Not again. Please. It hurts too much to be without you. I don’t know how. I don’t—” He murmured pleas until he was too frantic to speak. His vulnerability was a shock.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere,” I said, seeking to reassure him.

Cassie had been right; he was more fragile than I would ever have thought.

When his breathing finally slowed and his grip loosened, I urged him back under the covers. He went willingly. I drew them up over both of us and he curled himself around me. He pushed his forehead against my neck and got as close as he could, almost blanketing my body with his. His hand kept up a slow stroking. He returned to the center of my chest each time, making sure I was whole.

“It’s always the same dream. I can’t get to you in time and then you’re gone, and there’s nothing I can do to stop the emptiness.”

Like mine, his nightmare seemed like facets of his past twined with the present. His parents had been murdered. If his subconscious had replaced them with me, my abandoning him was the catalyst for these dreams.

“I’m right here with you, Hayden. Everything’s okay now.” I held him close.

Eventually his hand came to rest on my sternum, his nose pressed right into my throat. His breathing evened out and the tension left his body, but he kept his arm locked around me, as if I’d disappear if he let go.

My face was warm, damp. A rhythmic thump-whooshing lulled me into tranquillity. My cheek was resting on a chest, which explained the sweaty face. The thump-whoosh was the heart beating in the body I was wrapped around.

I opened my eyes. Tenley was in my bed. For the briefest moment I wondered if the last three weeks had been an incredibly shitty dream. But the scratches on her cheek told me the hell I’d lived was real.

She’d come back. Finally. Unfortunately, we didn’t have one of those reunions filled with sunshine and rainbows. Instead it was former strippers and catfights.

I still didn’t understand how she’d ended up in my bed, acting as my pillow. Going by the feel of things, she was completely naked. Not a good thing for her to be when I was sporting a hard-core case of morning wood and we needed to have a serious talk. The impulse to whack off had deserted me the night Tenley left Chicago, but seeing her in my shirt and boxers last night had resuscitated my comatose dick. I hadn’t been in any frame of mind to manage myself, so I’d bolted. Plus her hip was obviously sore. Sex would have made it worse.