Page 24 of A Breath of Life (Shadowy Solutions #4)

Tallus

D iem was not a man of wit and words. He spoke when necessary but never frivolously.

His communication skills had improved over the long months of our relationship, but he still struggled when under stress, hoarding emotions like a dragon hoards its treasures.

When his inability to express himself surfaced, I knew things inside him were bad.

With me, Diem had found comfort, grumbling less and joking more.

It was a joy in which I took tremendous pride.

Who knew Diem Krause had a sense of humor?

But Diem was also a man of many secrets.

Growing up with an abusive father was not something he readily discussed.

His history and struggles were etched into his body in scars and ink, shared only in tiny morsels.

Most remained mysteries I might never learn, and I was okay with that. I would take the crumbs he offered.

But one thing Diem wasn’t was a liar.

Until now .

Ever since returning home, battered and beaten, he’d been cagey, offering answers to my questions that weren’t answers at all. His vague explanations hid something far more serious, and I wanted to shake him upside down until the truth fell out.

Morning arrived like a taut bowstring, humming and ready to snap at the slightest provocation. I was meant to be in the records department by nine and went about my usual routine, doing my best to ignore the seismic tremors running along the fault lines of my relationship.

We’d barely made up. One fight had bled into another. Tension was high.

While I showered, shaved, and dressed for work, Diem paced.

He’d abandoned his usual trip to the gym that morning and looked ready for war, dressed in black cargo pants, a black, formfitting tee, and combat boots.

He thought I didn’t see him strap the knife to his calf, tucking it under a pant leg, but I did, and the sight of it burned my stomach lining.

Diem didn’t carry weapons. Ever. He owned a gun and had a permit to carry, but it never left the lockbox in the back of the closet.

So, yeah, the knife was worrisome. The menacing scowl on his face completed the illusion of a monstrous killer.

Put an AK-47 in his hands, and he wouldn’t have looked out of place on the set of an action movie.

Diem hated violence of any kind.

He went out of his way to repress urges to fight or react with fists when angry.

Not today. Today, he was lethal.

I said nothing.

While I smeared a thick layer of peanut butter onto two slices of toast and covered them with an ungodly amount of honey, he peeked out the window, spying from behind the still-drawn curtains at the street below. I imagined a sniper seeking his mark. A soldier doing reconnaissance on the enemy.

His paranoia took up space and bled into the room.

I said nothing.

The leather pouch still dangled from his wrist where it had been all night.

While I brushed my teeth, I stood in the hallway, puzzling over its presence.

It was bound to his body as though he feared losing it or that I might take it.

The notion hurt my feelings. I’d said we could return it.

I wasn’t about to abscond with it and find a black-market buyer.

He must not have believed me.

Abandoning the balcony window, Diem moved to another, no less absorbed in his task.

Echo lay on the couch, snoozing after a bowl of morning kibble, but every time Diem shifted positions or cracked his knuckles, every time the bear trapped in his chest growled, she opened her eyes and watched her charge with the same concern that was growing inside me.

I sent a message to Memphis while Diem wasn’t looking. We seriously need a phone date later. Like, 9-1-1. SOS. Be available! Before Diem turned around, I pocketed the device and grabbed my car keys.

“D? I have to go.”

“Yeah.” He dropped the curtain, ensuring the seams overlapped, then stormed to the door. “I’ll drive.”

“You’ll… What? I can take my car.”

“No. You heard me.”

This was getting out of hand. “Aren’t you going to the office?”

“No. I’m taking you to work, and I’ll stand by your fucking desk all day if I have to.”

I balked. “Excuse me? ”

Diem removed the keys from my hand and tossed them back into the junk bowl, finding his set instead. Snagging Echo’s leash and vest from the hook, he whistled through his teeth. “Come on, girl. We gotta go.”

Instantly awake, Echo bounded from the couch and pranced to Diem’s side. Unlike the previous night, when worry radiated from her golden eyes, she was chipper and energetic. No sign of distress remained. With her, anyhow. My boyfriend was another matter. He oozed tension and hostility.

“Diem, you don’t have to take me to work, and you certainly don’t have to—”

“It’s not up for debate, Tallus.” His voice cut like a knife, and I flinched. “I told you last night. You go nowhere without me. Understand?”

“Yeah.” I huffed. “I caught that, except you failed to tell me why .” I could be snarky too. Under my breath, I added, “And you’re not my fucking keeper,” and instantly regretted it. Was I itching to start another fight because fuck me.

Diem’s facial muscles twitched, his bruising more pronounced than the previous day. Thunder and lightning flashed in his eyes, and I waited for the boom of another snapped comment. It didn’t come, but electricity sparked the air between us, warning me how close Diem was to self-destruction.

His broken nose had given him two black eyes. They paired nicely with the slew of other marks that should have been seen by a professional. The menacing look might have felt threatening if I wasn’t used to Diem’s mood swings and temper.

Unable to shed my petulance, I stood my ground, meeting his glare with my own, daring him as much as he was daring me.

“Tallus— ”

“You don’t get to talk to me like that, Diem.”

He ground his teeth and schooled his features.

Before he could spit nails and we ended up at each other’s throats again, I held up my hands in a peace offering, leveling my tone. “Look. I don’t want to argue. You’re clearly upset this morning, and your lack of communication is driving me up a tree, but let’s be adults. Can we be adults?”

His jaw ticked, and his nostrils flared.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Tell me this. Am I in danger?”

I expected a growl or for him to tell me to shut up and do as I was told, but I didn’t get any of that.

Diem’s shoulders came down as a divot appeared between his brows. For a long time, he stared at the pouch tied to his wrist, then, quietly, he mumbled, “I don’t know. Maybe.”

A chill tickled my spine and tingled over my scalp. Had the men who attacked him threatened me? What wasn’t he explaining? Why did it feel like he was preparing for war?

“Are you saying I’m not safe inside the headquarters building of the police department? I’m not trying to sass or contradict you, but… really?”

Diem processed the question on a Diem level, taking his time as though flipping it over and turning it inside out to be sure of his answer before speaking it. “Maybe… Probably.” He nodded, but I got the sense he was convincing himself more than anything.

“Then drop me off and pick me up this afternoon if you’re worried. If you hang around all day looking like the new age reincarnation of Genghis Khan, it could raise questions.”

He glanced down at himself, the divot deepening. “I can’t leave you on your own. ”

“I’m a big boy.” Tilting Diem’s chin, I stroked a gentle hand over his unshaven cheek, mindful of his injuries.

“You don’t want to be glued to my side all day.

We’re apt to kill each other at this rate.

Besides, you hate being anywhere near the police department, and we both know how you feel about answering questions for nosy detectives. ”

He huff-grunted an affirmation. Inarticulate responses used to infuriate me, but a spark of hope filled my chest. A grunt was Normal Diem communication, and I would take Normal Diem back in a heartbeat as opposed to this stranger who had come home to me the previous night.

A complex series of emotions crossed his face before he said, “Don’t be mad at me. I hate it when you’re mad at me.”

His words pierced my heart. I didn’t remove my hand from his face and stroked my thumb under an inflamed eye as though I could smudge the bruise or soothe the ache.

He didn’t fight or pull back. Affection and communication had been sorely lacking that morning, and I wanted Diem to look at me without the fiery depths of hell burning from his core.

I wanted to be the balm that calmed his temper.

With the gentle caress, the storms passed, leaving overcast skies in their wake. Their absence only intensified Diem’s sorrowful expression.

“I’m not mad. Frustrated, but in my defense, you’ve walled yourself off, and I don’t know why. We do better when we talk to each other.”

“I know.” He leaned into my touch and closed his eyes. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t go out of my way to make you angry, Tallus. It’s… Please… don’t ask questions. Not yet. Not now.”

“You’re scaring me, D. What aren’t you saying?”

“I can’t talk about it. Please, Tallus. Listen for once. ”

“Okay. I’ll let it go.” I didn’t want to, but I knew without trying that if I pushed, he would push back, and we would end up at odds again.

That was what happened when two bullheaded men were in a relationship.

They clashed horns with far too much ease.

I would take the tentative truce over another battle.

Steering the conversation out of the damnable pit we kept falling into, I drew his face to my level and brushed a delicate kiss over his swollen lip.

A soft, strangled noise escaped him. “More,” he rasped.

I traced the wound with the tip of my tongue, pressing cautiously forward.

Diem growled and crashed his mouth against mine with urgency and desperation. I couldn’t get playful aggression in the bedroom, but I could always get it in a kiss.

Diem dominated my mouth and owned me with his possessive tongue. Sucking, nipping, branding me. The man went out of his way to imprint himself onto my soul, and I let him.

Forgiveness always tasted like bliss.

I glided my hand to his nape and drew him closer, down to my level. I wanted to run my fingers through his hair and dig my nails into his scalp, but mindful of the lump I’d seen the previous night, I refrained.

“Tallus,” he whispered into the kiss. “Christ, Tallus… Tallus…” My name was a painful plea.

A desperate yearning. A hunger. It was agony and love, want and need.

Part of me ached to drag him back to bed, make desperate love to him, and hide him from whatever threat he perceived lived beyond the apartment walls.

I wanted to dismantle the barrier he’d rebuilt around his heart and crawl inside where he could never lock me out again.

Eventually, reluctantly, I pulled back and peered deep into his overcast eyes.

This sweet, tortured man I’d fallen for would be the death of me.

I wished I could fix all his broken pieces and make him whole again, but a year of dating Diem had taught me that wasn’t possible.

I could support his healing, but it wasn’t in my power to vanquish his pain. Recovery was a road he walked alone.

Diem might frustrate me to no end. We might fight and make up and fight and make up, but every shattered fragment of his soul belonged to me. If I had to spend the rest of my life picking up the pieces when he fell apart, I would.

“I love you, Guns.”

He took me into his arms and tucked me close to his heart, nuzzling his face into my hair. “I don’t say it enough, but I love you too.”

“You don’t have to say it all the time. I see it in your eyes when you look at me, and it’s enough.”

“I’ll do better.”

“You’re doing fine.”

Time disappeared as he held me, and I would have been happy to stay there all day, wrapped in his love, but adult responsibilities were a bitch.

“I really have to go, D. I’m going to be late for my shift, and my boss already thinks I’m a flake.”

With a reluctant nod, he released me.