Page 66
Story: Mine to Protect
Slow. We’d do this slow, and everything would be fine.
“So the park it is,” I said. “No smooth surfaces on the trails.”
Inside the truck, he twisted the key and turned. After snatching my thumb from my teeth, he intertwined our fingers, locking them in place between us. “Where to, my Lady?”
* * *
“Are you trying to kill me?”Cas grunted as we scaled another boulder. “I’d rather die by a bullet than this shit.” His deep intakes of air could be heard through half the park.
“Just a bit farther. It’s my favorite view,” I said with a smile while I waited for him to catch up. Granted, he had more bulk to haul up, and he could only use his left hand because of the other’s mysterious injury. “On my days off, I hike up here and sit for hours just watching, listening. It’s peaceful.”
“If you don’t die before you make it,” he grumbled. With a loud grunt, which sounded mostly for dramatics, he stepped up beside me.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand now?” I asked, then started up the trail once again, this time with Cas close behind.
“Are you going to keep asking until I tell you?”
“Well yeah.” I chuckled and tossed my hands in the air. “Spill it, Mathews.”
“I preferred the ‘sir’ nickname. Fine, I punched our microwave.”
I pulled up short, causing him to stumble against my back. “The microwave? What was its offense? Not heating your food, or dinging too loud?” Chin over my shoulder, I shot him a smirk.
“It looked like me.”
My smirk fell. Turning, I placed both hands on my hips. “I have no idea what that means.”
“It means exactly what I said. I saw a reflection in my sleep, and I… it’s why I said I couldn’t stay the night with you. I’m trained to take out any threat, and in my sleep, I can’t decipher between a threat, a friend, or a fucking reflection.” Shouldering past me, he started walking ahead. “Back home, I’ve just stopped replacing mirrors. This is the first time I’ve hit a microwave though.” Stopping, he held his wrapped hand up to his face. “Hurt like a bitch too.”
For several minutes, we walked in silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally asked, unable to take it any longer.
“Not really.”
“Is that kind of a yes?”
“That’s a hell no.”
Even with the weight of the conversation, I couldn’t help but smile. At least he told me about the hand. He could’ve just kept avoiding the question. Opening up didn’t seem to be his thing, which was fine since it wasn’t mine either.
Half a mile later, we reached the end of the trail. We stood at the edge of a steep drop-off, surrounded by the best view of several snow-covered peaks down to the stream-filled valleys.
“You were right.” A muscular arm wrapped over my shoulder and hugged me close. “This was worth almost dying.”
“You’re kind of dramatic, you know that?”
Cas huffed a small laugh and flexed his arm, tugging me tighter against him.
“I can see why you don’t go back to Texas. How could anyone ever leave this?”
I nodded but frowned at the same time. “I miss it though. I miss my parents.”
“Why’d you leave?”
I wrapped an arm around his lean waist, savoring the contact. How had I gone so long without the touch and feel of comfort, of another human’s loving touch?
“I couldn’t be there anymore. Everywhere I turned, there were places that used to make me happy. I missed my life, I wanted the old me back so bad, but nothing was working. Therapy, drugs, hypnotism.” Cas looked down with an arched brow. “Yeah I know, but we were desperate to fix me. When we realized nothing would work, I left. I couldn’t take being there anymore, and my mom was suffocating me, afraid I’d sink too deep into depression and hurt myself.”
“So the park it is,” I said. “No smooth surfaces on the trails.”
Inside the truck, he twisted the key and turned. After snatching my thumb from my teeth, he intertwined our fingers, locking them in place between us. “Where to, my Lady?”
* * *
“Are you trying to kill me?”Cas grunted as we scaled another boulder. “I’d rather die by a bullet than this shit.” His deep intakes of air could be heard through half the park.
“Just a bit farther. It’s my favorite view,” I said with a smile while I waited for him to catch up. Granted, he had more bulk to haul up, and he could only use his left hand because of the other’s mysterious injury. “On my days off, I hike up here and sit for hours just watching, listening. It’s peaceful.”
“If you don’t die before you make it,” he grumbled. With a loud grunt, which sounded mostly for dramatics, he stepped up beside me.
“Are you going to tell me what happened to your hand now?” I asked, then started up the trail once again, this time with Cas close behind.
“Are you going to keep asking until I tell you?”
“Well yeah.” I chuckled and tossed my hands in the air. “Spill it, Mathews.”
“I preferred the ‘sir’ nickname. Fine, I punched our microwave.”
I pulled up short, causing him to stumble against my back. “The microwave? What was its offense? Not heating your food, or dinging too loud?” Chin over my shoulder, I shot him a smirk.
“It looked like me.”
My smirk fell. Turning, I placed both hands on my hips. “I have no idea what that means.”
“It means exactly what I said. I saw a reflection in my sleep, and I… it’s why I said I couldn’t stay the night with you. I’m trained to take out any threat, and in my sleep, I can’t decipher between a threat, a friend, or a fucking reflection.” Shouldering past me, he started walking ahead. “Back home, I’ve just stopped replacing mirrors. This is the first time I’ve hit a microwave though.” Stopping, he held his wrapped hand up to his face. “Hurt like a bitch too.”
For several minutes, we walked in silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I finally asked, unable to take it any longer.
“Not really.”
“Is that kind of a yes?”
“That’s a hell no.”
Even with the weight of the conversation, I couldn’t help but smile. At least he told me about the hand. He could’ve just kept avoiding the question. Opening up didn’t seem to be his thing, which was fine since it wasn’t mine either.
Half a mile later, we reached the end of the trail. We stood at the edge of a steep drop-off, surrounded by the best view of several snow-covered peaks down to the stream-filled valleys.
“You were right.” A muscular arm wrapped over my shoulder and hugged me close. “This was worth almost dying.”
“You’re kind of dramatic, you know that?”
Cas huffed a small laugh and flexed his arm, tugging me tighter against him.
“I can see why you don’t go back to Texas. How could anyone ever leave this?”
I nodded but frowned at the same time. “I miss it though. I miss my parents.”
“Why’d you leave?”
I wrapped an arm around his lean waist, savoring the contact. How had I gone so long without the touch and feel of comfort, of another human’s loving touch?
“I couldn’t be there anymore. Everywhere I turned, there were places that used to make me happy. I missed my life, I wanted the old me back so bad, but nothing was working. Therapy, drugs, hypnotism.” Cas looked down with an arched brow. “Yeah I know, but we were desperate to fix me. When we realized nothing would work, I left. I couldn’t take being there anymore, and my mom was suffocating me, afraid I’d sink too deep into depression and hurt myself.”
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