Page 34 of Blood Queen
“You should get some sleep,” I murmur, my voice rough from exhaustion.
He doesn’t move. “I keep thinking about it,” he says quietly. “The first time I saw you at the bridge, remember?”
I let out a quiet laugh, but there’s an edge to it. His lips twitch, but his eyes remain serious.
“I think I loved you then.”
A sharp pang lances through my chest.
I open my mouth—but I don’t get the chance. Because in the next second, he’s there, his fingers sliding into my hair, careful of my injuries, his lips brushing against mine, slow and deliberate.
The air between us turns electric.
I inhale sharply, my hands fisting in his shirt. He deepens the kiss, warm and so achingly familiar that I nearly come undone right there. I press into him, letting myself have this moment. When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless. He looks at me, his eyes searching for answers.
A thousand thoughts careen inside my head. I want to explain everything and nothing all at once.
His forehead rests against mine, his voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t lose you.”
20
Past
Truman stays true to his word and keeps me company as I wrestle with what to do next. Though wary at first, I slowly open up to him, feeling a kinship I didn’t know I needed. I show him the picture and the money.
I don’t show him the other stuff.
He keeps my brain from steam rolling into panic talking of life’s pleasures and hopes for the future. He’s going to graduate this year and plans to go to college in South Carolina. Something about law and justice. The events of the day fade into the background as we lose ourselves in conversation.
Truman’s stomach growls loudly, making me laugh.
“You’re hungry,” I say. He looks shy but nods. “I can make us dinner. Are you sure you aren’t going to get in trouble for not going home?”
“I’m sure. What will you make?” he asks.
“I just got a deer yesterday, so there’s fresh venison and plenty of vegetables or we can make a salad.”
Truman’s eyes are wide. “Like,youshot a deer?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“With a gun? Like you’re a good shot?” he asks.
I cock my head at him. “Actually, I shot him with a crossbow.”
“You keep blowing my mind. There’s always something else to learn about you,” he says looking bamboozled.
I shoot him a look. “Lots of people hunt around here, it’s not that exciting.”
He shrugs. “Sure, lots of boys. Can’t think of a single girl in my class who goes hunting. Let alone with a crossbow. Just makes you even cooler than I thought.”
A laugh bubbles up and out of me, and soon, Truman laughs too.
I pan fry some venison steak tips while Truman assembles a salad. Every so often, he glances at me.
“Am I doing it wrong?” I ask, catching him watching me.
“I mean, I don’t know, I don’t really cook, but my mom usually puts some kind of oil or butter in the pan I think.”
