Page 62 of Pocketful of Shame
Crouched behind the crates, Sketch pulled me flush against him. I could feel his heart thundering violently against my ear. Keeping one hand clamped over my mouth, he gripped the knife with the other, ready to strike.
Wide eyed and petrified, and with my head twisted at a painful angle, I kept my eyes glued to Sketch's face. His breath was coming out in visible puffs of air; the only sign that he was affected by the frigid temperature of the freezer. Meanwhile, my body racked with tremors.
"Well hell," someone mused. "I really thought she'd be in here. Saw the skinny one get out, but she wasn't with him."
My body went weak, sagging against Sketch's, while the men that had taken his brother's life stood mere feet from us.
"Did you see the kid?" the voice I knew belonged to Catochi asked. "The way he moved? His reflexes? Remind you of anyone?"
"Yeah," the first one replied. "Impressive."
"Kid's quicker than his brother was," a third one laughed. "Although, that wouldn't be hard."
I could feel the tremor roll through Sketch's body and I prayed to God to give him the self-control he needed to not coil and strike. Reaching up, I covered the hand he had on my mouth with mine, desperate to ground him and keep him with me.Don’t be reckless,I mentally begged him with my eyes, knowing this must be torture for him,just stay with me.
"Think she told 'em?"
"Nah," the one with the cruel voice sneered. "Girl's a fucking headcase. She was rocking in a padded cell last week. Besides, if she remembered anything, don’t you think she would have blabbed by now?"
"Then what the fuck are we doing here?" a fourth one asked.
"Following orders, pup." That was Catochi. "Sending a message."
"This was a waste of our goddamn time."
"Damn, that kid's got good instincts, though," Catochi mused.
"He'd have to, poor bastard, to survive up until now," the first one said, and all four of them chuckled.
Moments later, the light above us flickered out, bathing us in a semi-state of darkness, sans the open door.
"What a fucking mess."
"Let's clear out before the filth make an appearance."
"What about the girl?"
"We were sent to scare her, not kill her. She looked scared to me. If she has a braincell left in that defected brain of hers, she'll go back to where she belongs."
"And the kid?"
"He'll follow her. He's a teenage boy – a territorial little shit, by the look of it. He'll chase that snatch around like a dog chases a bitch in heat."
More laughter filled the air as their footsteps slowly retreated. Seconds later, the door slammed shut. We were alone.
Still frozen on the floor, both literally and figuratively, I ripped Sketch's hand away from my mouth and dragged air into my lungs. My body was shaking so violently that I was making his body vibrate. "God…" Gasping for air, I twisted around and threw my arms around his neck.
"Fuck." Tossing the knife on the floor, his arms came around me, hugging me to his chest. "Are you okay?" He squeezed me so tightly that I could hardly breathe and it wasn’t enough. "Fuck, baby." I couldn’t seem to get close enough. "Jesus Christ."
"Yes, yes, I'm fine. Areyouokay?" I cried back, grasping and pulling at him, desperate to convince myself that he was still here. "God, Sketch, I thought I was gonna lose you…" Burying my face in his neck, I kissed his skin over and over, so grateful that he was here with me. Adrenalin was still pumping through my veins, making me feel dizzy and frantic. "I can't lose you." Injured knee be damned, I scrambled onto his lap and clung to his hard chest like a baby monkey. "Not ever."
"I'm here," Sketch said, his breathing as hard and uneven as mine. "Jesus Christ, I thought I was gonna lose you." A shiver racked through his body. "Scariest fucking moment of my life."
"They're the four men," I sobbed, clutching him with a death grip, "that killed Chris."
"Yeah, I know. I heard them," he strangled out, breathing hard. "Fuck, I'm so fucking sorry for doubting you, Ro." Smoothing my hair back, he tugged my face out of the curve of his neck and cradled my face between his big hands. "So fucking sorry, baby." His cold nose found mine in the darkness, stroking and nuzzling, his breath fanning my lips. "I swear, I willneverdoubt you again –"
I crushed my lips to his, pulse racing, mind reeling, heartstarving. This time, Sketch didn’t hesitate to kiss me back. Unlike the bathroom, he didn’t hold back. He didn’t deny me his affection. Instead, his lips devoured mine, his kiss drugging and consuming, as he slid his tongue into my mouth to dance with mine.
