Page 22 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone this sincere, but I love it, and if he lets me, I can teach him all the ways he could give me pleasure.

And vice versa, of course. “You must be a natural talent then. I saw stars. Whole constellations and galaxies of them,” I tell him, and when my eyes meet his, it’s as if our gazes are two pieces of flint, because now I’m on fire.

And then he smiles, setting the whole room ablaze. It’s like watching the stone skin of a gargoyle crack to reveal the living, breathing creature inside the shell. “I’m so happy. I wouldn’t like to do it if you said you don’t enjoy it.”

He’s perfect.

It’s official, and while I know it’s only a fleeting emotion, not anything that runs deeper, I feel like I’m in love.

I want to kiss him so bad.

“Thank you. Not everyone thinks that way. There’s a lot of people out there willing to lie just to get in your pants,” I say, rolling my eyes. “People suck, but I really like Vulture Hollow. Thank you for bringing me here, all in all.”

I have to move behind him to test out my hairdo idea for him, a fantasy-inspired half-up half-down style with a loose bun, which showcases his handsome features.

“You won’t miss your place? Do you have family in the area?”

I snort, but he doesn’t know my story yet.

We hardly know each other, something I need to keep reminding myself before I’m in too deep too fast. On the other hand, after the things he told me last night, I’m much more at ease about opening up myself.

“My family is far away. We don’t keep in touch, because booze is more important to them than anything else. I’m sure you know the type.”

He nods. Listens. He actually listens . How sad is it that it makes me realize the guys I hung out with rarely gave a shit about who I am. I have the worst taste.

“People are allowed to let loose in Vulture Hollow, but we keep an eye out on addiction issues, because that never leads anywhere good. Were they… Did they hurt you?” I notice how he squeezes the cup harder.

I groan and use my brush to get bits of hair off his nape. “Depends how you define hurt. There were moments when I was able to enjoy myself with them, but then they got drunk, and spent all the cash on booze, they had weird people over, or dad would get into a fight in a bar and return all beat-up.

“They did try to keep me safe, in their own way, I can give them that, they even made sure I could lock my bedroom door, so none of their buddies might come in while I was sleeping, but if they were worried, why have those people over in the first place? I did try to help them, but in the end, I lost my patience when they stole the first money I ever earned. That’s when I left,” I say and approach the box containing my cosmetics.

Creep likely won’t be the type of guy to obsess over the quality of his skin, but I still apply some moisturizer, then follow it with sunscreen.

When he doesn’t utter a word of complaint, I put some Chapstick over his dry lips and get to work on plucking his eyebrows.

Just a little, to even things out. He’s so handsome and deserves to look his best.

“I’m sorry, that sounds like a hard place to grow up in,” he says, staring at me from up close. It’s sweet how he can find empathy for me despite his own childhood being ten times more fucked up.

I stroke his hair, and smile when it behaves as I want it to.

He looks like a heartthrob, and he’s mine.

“It wasn’t that bad until my grandmother was around.

I spent a lot of time with her, when I was still young.

And then, when she got older our roles reversed, and I was the one to take care of her.

After she died, nothing was keeping me there anymore,” I say, surprised by the tremble in my voice.

I miss her. She would have pulled my ear for dating most of the guys I’ve slept with.

Creep nods, soaking my words in like a sponge.

It’s a hunch, but I feel he’ll remember everything I tell him.

“It’s still nice that you had her in your life for a while.

And she was blessed to have you when she needed you most. Brigid is a bit like the mother I never had.

I owe her my life, and I hope to always take care of her. ”

I’ve seen him swear at Prophet, bristle at others, slam Johnny’s face into a car, and strangle Adam.

And yet now his words are so soft and thoughtful, a testament to all the books he’s been reading.

I’d be worried if I met him in a dark alley, but it only proves that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.

Even if this book’s cover is looking better and better by the minute.

“I’m sorry you had to wait so long until you met people who took care of you,” I say and take the cape off him. I have to go to the porch to shake off all the hair. Creep’s thoughtful when I return, so I choose not to fill the silence with my own chatter, to give him space.

I do playfully slap his hand though when he starts biting his nails. “How about I take care of those too, huh?”

He nods and holds out his hand to me with full trust in the process. No fussing about a manicure being girly despite him being a big bad biker.

“Thanks for your patience last night. With the shower. It’s always been such a struggle. My aunt slept in the room with the boiler, so even if I washed in cold water, she’d usually hear me. So it unnerves me when the shower is too loud. I know it’s odd.”

What a witch. In the worst possible sense of the word.

I take a deep breath and prepare the skin-softening hand bath. “I wish she was still alive, so I could shave her head.”

Creep snort-laughs, and it’s so cute I’m dying to kiss him. I get busy with his nails instead and let him talk.

“She would have hated that. She had this long, long braid, and one of my cousins would brush it out for her every night. I ended up washing mostly when she left the house, but that was rare. It’s…

embarrassing, but when Prophet found me, and I first started living in Vulture Hollow, we argued a lot about my…

hygiene. I thought he’d just kick me out, because I’d usually just swear at him a lot when he started on that, but one day, instead of being stubborn as usual, he took me to this little waterfall by the hot springs.

I didn’t feel like I could tell him about my aunt, and the way she treated me.

I was always on my guard back then, just me against the world, but he still found a way to both get what he wanted and put me at ease.

I’m sorry if this was a disgusting story. ”

I bite my lip and pull his hand closer. I’m so sad for him. Bad memories have a tendency of staying with people in some form, but what Creep’s aunt did to him seems to still haunt him. As if her ghost clutched onto him as she died.

“You’re not the only one with embarrassing secrets.

” I sigh, settling on the other side of the table and picking out all the supplies I still need.

When he doesn’t ask what I’m referring to, I just start working on his hands and use a little bamboo stick to expose more of his nail while his other hand rests in warm water.

At least this way I don’t have to look into his eyes or see how he reacts when I go on.

“There was this guy I was sleeping with who really wanted me to dress up in women’s clothing.

I did it despite feeling really weird about it.

I don’t like being called a girl, or any related things.

But I needed his support at the time so… I just went with it.”

The air passing down my throat burns when I remember the garments I only wore at Domino’s request. I should have left them in my old home and forgotten about both them and the man, but a part of me still worries that if he finds me, it will be easier to appease him if I put on a skirt and stockings.

“I’m not traumatized, or anything, definitely not by the clothing, but I’m still deeply embarrassed by the degree to which I chose to shelve my discomfort for someone else’s pleasure. At some point, it just felt inescapable.”

My heart trembles at the way Creep listens to me.

I want him to know I didn’t just brush off his honesty with a ‘too bad, so sad’.

I needed to answer with a truth of my own.

“I’ve been homeless for almost two months at one point in my life, and I know what it’s like to feel…

not your best while being aware that it’s perceived by everyone around you. ”

In the corner of my eye, I see Creep nod. “I would take your secret to the grave, don’t worry,” he says, and I believe it.

I might even be a little bit emotional about the sincerity in his voice and the way he accepts something I carry as such an embarrassing secret.

He really has massacred his nails, and while I don't want to point it out, I decide for him that unless he objects, I'll paint them black. I had a customer who bit her nails a lot and not actually seeing their surface was helpful for her to break the habit.

I love how he lets me pamper his hands without question even when the nail polish comes out, he has zero objections. The black looks good on him. Goes with his eyes, and hair, and the pale skin.

His transformation into a hot rocker guy is nearly complete, and I smirk, leaving the nails to completely dry as I offer him a small cookie when his stomach gives a loud growl. “I know, I know, we’ll go to breakfast soon.”

“Sorry, I don’t want to rush you. I like… spending time with you,” he says and glances at me as if I’m the eighth world wonder.

He’s so sweet. So gentle. And while he’s capable of killing a man, and he’s a member of a biker club, there’s something fragile about him too. Something I ache to protect. “Don’t worry, I think we’re both hungry. We just need another ten minutes or so.”