Page 37 of Creep (Vulture Hollow MC #2)

Creep

I told myself to stay away, at least for tonight.

That he wants to put some boundaries between us, and that I overdid it today.

And yet here I am, under his bed as if I sleepwalked in here.

I worried he might have messaged me out of a sense of obligation, so at first I wanted to give him the space and didn’t answer, but I’m drawn to him so helplessly, so desperately, I might be the nightmare that made him toss and turn so much.

I considered pretending I’m not there when he asked, but he’d find me if he decided to look below, so in the end, I did answer, expecting him to kick me out.

He doesn’t shout, nor quietly settle back to his disturbed sleep. Instead, I hear his voice, soft and oddly choked, as if he’s going down with something. “Lie with me?”

“I… am here.”

An exasperated sigh. “No… can you join me in bed? Please?”

I press my forehead to the blanket he so thoughtfully left for me here. What am I supposed to say to that so I don’t sound fucked up? My mind searches for an answer to the riddle he’s presenting me with.

“For…? Do you want to pretend to sleep?” By which I mean ‘do you want me to fuck you? Do you like me fucking you?’. It brings up a whole lot of conflicted feelings, because I’ve been sad about his rejection, but I’d still want to make love to him. What does that say about me?

When he doesn’t respond right away, I’m about to burn down in the heat of my shame, but then the bed creaks above me, and he finally speaks. “I—I think we need to talk first. Come up here?”

Oh God. He knows he made a mistake and wants to break up with me already. If I run now, and he can’t do that, will it mean he’ll still be my boyfriend?

It’s stupid. So fucking stupid I slap myself to keep from slipping into the giant dark hole opening under me.

“I c-can’t. I’m where I belong.”

“Of course you can. Don’t be obtuse…”

“It doesn’t feel right. I don’t deserve to be there. This is fine. We can talk.”

“No!” Angel protests shifting over me in a quick roll. “I want to see you. And what is this talk about deserving , huh? Who gets to decide that if not the owner of the bed, me ?”

I groan, because how can I even start communicating all of it? “I don’t know. You don’t actually want me there, but that’s fine—”

“What gave you that idea? Don’t put words in my mouth!” Angel says, and moments later, his head appears in the gap between the bed and the floor, hair brushing the wood as if it’s the most luxurious of dusters.

I feel like a cockroach getting a flashlight turned on it, and while my first instinct is to flee, that would have been ridiculous, so I stare at him in disbelief.

“You don’t want me to live here, so I don’t want to impose, but also…

I am here, so I guess I did a bad thing. Being here. Against your will.”

My eyes are used to the shadows, so I notice his deep frown even in the dark. “What? I did invite you to move in. You are still invited!”

Did he? I’m pretty sure he wasn’t happy with me. “This is fine. Can I stay here?” I ask with hope sneaking back into my heart.

“Can you, please , join me in bed?” Angel sounds annoyed that he has to repeat this request, and his eyes cut through me even though he’s upside down.

“You’ll get a headache if you stay like that too long.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

Do I want to cuddle his perfect body and nuzzle the back of his head all night long? Of course I do. But it just doesn’t seem like a legitimate option.

“No.”

“No?” he growls, sounding like an angry chihuahua.

“No.”

“Fine then,” Angel says in a clipped voice before rolling off the bed and landing on the floor. I’m too startled to respond at first, but then he crawls toward me, under the bed, as if this space full of dust and shadow isn’t beneath him.

He doesn’t belong here just like I don’t belong in the bed.

My mind can’t catch up when he joins me in the tight space.

He’s an Angel even in name. He shouldn’t be here with the likes of me.

My stomach clenches and the scars on my back start itching as if to remind me of my place.

But I don’t know how to stop him when he moves closer, until I’m trapped between his fragrant body and the wall, and have nowhere to run.

My heart speeds up, but I take deep breaths, because nothing good will come out of it if I panic. Normally, I’d retreat into the perfect woodland clearing I imagine when meditating, but Angel’s presence drags me right back under the bed.

“Then I’m here with you. Now tell me. Why? Why won’t you join me in bed?”

I stare into his pretty blue eyes, and now that he’s here, I can’t deny him the answers even if it means I need to cut myself open to give them to him.

“I… I’m a monster, Angel. So this is where I belong. Monsters don’t sleep in beds.” I hate how my voice sounds. Like it’s bruised. Unworthy of him.

I am unworthy of him, but I let myself forget that and soiled his body with my touch. A hole originating deep inside me starts to spread, swallowing every happy memory we’ve shared to date. They were all stolen.

Angel shakes his head, and I freeze when he cups my face, thumb stroking my cheekbone while the other fingers dive into my hair. “What is this nonsense? You’re not a monster. You’re my boyfriend, and I want you with me!”

It’s so much easier to hang out on the sidelines with my brothers or smash someone’s face in than deal with all these… feelings. Angel’s questions poke at wounds that can’t seem to heal, and now they’ll bleed all over his pretty fingers, and he’ll run away.

But if he wants answers…

“I… I was told this is my place. I was left in peace as long as I was under the bed, because that’s where the monsters live.

” I’m so ashamed when I meet his eyes. He shouldn’t be here.

He shouldn’t be dealing with me, but his eyes are still so kind, his touch so warm when his other hand cups the other side of my face, gently stroking my skin.

I want to be touched. So much. I’m sick of the trappings of my own mind.

“By who? Your aunt?”

I nod, finding it hard to speak. “I was allowed either under the bed or… in the wardrobe. If she saw me or heard me, she’d beat me.

I’m sorry. You deserve so much better.” I look away because I can’t bear his kindness.

After all he saw me do, he’s here with me, wanting to listen while I feel sorry for myself.

He takes a deep breath and leans in, pressing his warm forehead to mine.

In the dark, it’s somehow a bit easier to talk.

“But… you killed her, because you knew she was wrong. Why would you still believe anything she told you?”

“Because she was right. I was born rotten, a tool for the devil, and then I proved it. I killed her. She always said I was a monster, so I figured I might as well act like one. I don’t have a moral compass.

I’m a bad… thing, Angel. With or without her.

I’m a killer, a criminal, and yeah, a creep who’s into perverted shit. So I don’t belong on the bed.”

Even saying this much feels like pulling up the blade of my own guillotine, because I know I’m about to lose the tiny sliver of joy I’ve managed to steal from Angel. But he needs to know the truth. I can’t lie to him, even if it means he will never speak to me again.

I don’t deserve anyone pure, and kind, and beautiful as him.

He takes in a shivery inhale, still holding on to my face, still so very close I could take hours to describe the scent lingering on his skin and hair.

It’s fresh, with a distant note of jasmine, and the sweetness of honey.

If I were worthy, I would make out with him all night.

I would kiss every inch of his body and lick him between the toes, but—

A sob escapes his lips, and when he pushes his face closer, his damp cheek rubs against mine. “I’m sorry… that is so horrible…”

“Oh no no no, don’t cry, don’t cry!” I don’t know what to do, so I… hug him?

I pull him close and hold him, despite my instincts fighting it.

This isn’t for me , I tell myself, it’s to soothe him.

Then my mind suggests there’s nothing I do can achieve that, but I’m already holding him close, sliding my hand over the back of his head, and it feels so, so good.

Like when he hugged me on the bike and I took a detour so it could last longer.

Every inch of me craves this touch despite the fucked up storm of emotions within me.

Just like that, we’re close, and I’m tasting the salt of his tears when he strokes my face over and over, as if he needs to remember its shape.

“It just makes me so sad… everything you’ve been through.

You didn’t deserve that. You deserved someone who would love you and nurture you, and protect you.

But I can’t reverse the past and take you out of there… ”

“Please don’t waste your tears on me, precious.

You’ve done so much for me already. Given me so much.

” Now that I’m holding him, I don’t want to let go, and that’s the monster speaking.

Offer him a finger, and he’ll take the hand.

I slide my arms over his back. Sure, I’ve touched him before, but it feels different now.

I know he was just pretending to sleep, I know he allowed it, but to have him here?

In my darkness? Giving into my touch so freely?

It unlocks a part of me I didn’t know existed. The human buried within the monster.

“It’s not a waste,” he argues, kissing my cheek, and—oh God—his lips feel like silk-wrapped strawberries.

“Nothing I do with you is a waste. I cherish every minute. I’m not afraid of you, and I want you here.

You’re such a giving person, someone worthy of kindness.

Even if no one saw that in you before, I do. ”