Page 8 of Cuckoo (Devil’s Murder MC #7)

“ O uch!” I shouted, pulling back my hand from the edge of the cookie sheet, wincing as I felt the heat on my finger and the resulting burn. Rushing to the sink, I turned on the faucet and let the cold water sluice over the skin. “Dammit. I just wanted a chicken quesadilla.”

I glanced at the offending metal pan, sighing as I heard a knock on my front door. Turning off the water, I shook off my finger, trying to ignore the throbbing pain. A second knock, slightly more persistent, followed the first.

Cuckoo. It had to be. I wasn’t expecting anyone else.

I didn’t bother looking through the peephole, reaching for the knob, and opening the door with a smile.

It faded when I noticed the guy in a white polo with a gas company logo on the left above his heart.

He held a clipboard and wore aviator sunglasses.

I couldn’t see his eyes because of the mirrored, reflective surface.

“Hi, sorry to bother you this evening, but we’re checking all the houses on this street for potential meter usage errors. I’d like to take a quick peek at yours if that’s okay.”

Uh. Okay? I nodded my head. “Sure.”

“Thanks. I’ll just be a few minutes.”

I watched the guy spin around and walk down the steps, turning to the right as he disappeared around the corner.

Weird. I didn’t think they worked after six in the evening.

I closed the door and returned to the kitchen, plating my dinner and adding sour cream and salsa for dipping. Just as I stuck the cookie sheet in the sink to wash, I heard a knock and figured the gas company service technician was letting me know what he found.

When I opened the door, I found Cuckoo. He stood with a dopey grin on his face.

Unlike earlier today, when we met, he wore a costume with his leather vest. Blinking, I slid my gaze over the brown leather chaps he wore over his jeans, the gun holster stuffed with pistols, and the mismatched shirt he wore underneath.

It was one of those gag shirts you can buy at places like Spencer Gifts, where an image was pressed on the front.

In this case, it was a bare, muscled chest with tufts of dark hair, a black bowtie, and pierced nipples.

The funny part? It molded to his chiseled body like a second skin. It made me wonder what he looked like underneath. Did Cuckoo have as much ink on his chest as he did on his arms?

“Hey,” I greeted him with a smirk. “Nice outfit.”

“I thought you’d appreciate it.”

Oh, I did. “Come on in. You hungry? I just made a chicken quesadilla and am willing to share.”

He held up one of his hands, clutching a large white paper bag. “I go you In-N-Out Burger.”

My palm slapped over my heart. “I love you.”

His lips curled into a grin so wide I saw the dimple in his left cheek pop. “Someday, you’ll mean it.” He winked before joining me inside.

I let his comment go unanswered, but that didn’t mean I wasn’t affected by it. My heart rate picked up speed, and I swallowed loudly, focusing on the food instead of my reaction.

He remembered how much I loved my fast-food burgers, fries, and chocolate shakes, but only from In-N-Out. Growing up, we didn’t get to indulge often, but whenever he had a few extra bucks in his pocket, Rain would treat me. It became our favorite place to eat.

I still couldn’t drive by one of the restaurants without thinking of him. Knowing he never forgot filled my chest with warmth. My foster brother turned out to be full of surprises but also a creature of habit. Just knowing he still wore costumes outside of Halloween made me smile.

It was our thing.

Wistfully, I followed him into my kitchen. “I’m starving, but you’ll have to eat my quesadilla now. I’m stealing all the yumminess in that bag.”

He snorted. “You’ll share? How thoughtful.”

I eagerly ripped open the paper bag as he set it on the counter, popping a fry into my mouth. A moan escaped. I couldn’t remember the last time I stopped for In-N-Out. I tried to eat healthy, limiting my consumption of processed, salty, and sugary foods. But this? It was too delicious to pass up.

Rain, err Cuckoo, laughed. He unwrapped a burger and handed it to me, opening up packets of warm ketchup to dip our fries in. We stood side by side, devouring the food and enjoying it vocally while we stuffed our faces.

“Oh, wow,” I giggled after I burped. “This hit the spot.”

“Good to know.” He picked up all the trash and tossed it in the can, reaching for one of the triangles of chicken quesadilla on the forgotten plate I left on the counter. After dipping in sour cream and salsa, he took an enormous bite.

I watched him eat, shaking my head at the amount of food he could shove down his gullet. I’d forgotten his ravenous appetite.

“You still eat a lot,” I observed.

“You’ve no idea.” He sent me a lecherous smile.

“Well,” I began, not quite knowing how to answer him. “Did you just come over to bring me dinner?”

“Nope.” He took the empty plate to the sink and rinsed it before shutting off the water. “Thought we could play a little game.”

Game? I frowned. “What kind of game?”

“Truth or dare.”

Uh, hard pass. “No.”

He shrugged. “How about we catch up on the last twelve years? You tell me your secrets, and I’ll confess mine.”

Not likely.

“I don’t think there’s a lot to tell.” He frowned. “At least on my end,” I added.

He ticked his chin toward my couch. “Come on.”

I trailed behind him, taking a seat as he scooted closer.

Cuckoo’s arm draped across the top. With his fingertips, he lightly caressed the bare skin along the back of my neck. “Still so soft,” he murmured.

“Were you ever adopted?” I blurted, shifting slightly as his fingers fell away from my skin. I shivered, both by the absence and by the hint of longing left behind.

“No.” He leaned back, briefly focusing his attention out the window. “I ran away at seventeen.”

He did? “Were you okay?” Did something happen to him? Was he hurt? More than usual?

“After you left, I got pissed. Shit got worse.” A muscle in his jaw ticked. “As soon as I could get the fuck away, I did.”

Outside, I heard a crow cawing. It wasn’t like the sound earlier today. This was melancholy. Almost haunting.

Now that I thought about it, I heard crows whenever he was near me. As kids, we used to joke that only blackbirds cared about us since they followed us wherever we went.

I reached for him, placing my hand over the one gripping his knee. “I’m sorry.”

His head snapped to the left, pinning me in place. “Don’t do that. Don’t ever fucking apologize for shit that isn’t your fault.”

Okay. I tried to pull my hand away, but he held it, threading our fingers.

“It’s not you, angel. It’s all the shit in the past.”

I knew, and I understood. “You don’t have to explain. I was there, remember?”

He clenched my fingers tighter. “You were always able to do this.” He sounded calmer.

“Do what?”

“Chill me the fuck out when I’m riled up.”

True. “You have a short fuse,” I joked.

“And you’re too sweet.” He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Tell me whoever adopted you treated you well, Katrina.”

“They did.” For the most part. “Clifford and Sabrina are good people.”

His shoulders lost some of their tension. “I’m glad.”

“I hate that we never got a chance to say goodbye.” I glanced at my lap, avoiding his direct gaze.

“It felt so jarring. I hated it.” That was an understatement.

It devastated me to lose Rain and his protection, friendship, and the blossoming love we felt for one another.

Was it taboo? Maybe. But we learned to lean on one another at a young age. It made sense we formed a strong bond.

“It fucking gutted me,” he growled.

I lifted my chin, staring into his tortuous expression. “Me too.”

We sat in silence for a minute, mulling over the past.

“You went to college.”

“I did. Library science major. It’s a good fit for me.”

“My bookworm.” He bumped his shoulder against mine. “Remember reading The Princess Bride ?”

“Which time?” I asked with a laugh. “But we probably watched the movie more.”

“We did.”

I rested my head on his shoulder. “This is nice.”

“That’s because we’re not discussing any of the hard shit.”

“I know.”

“But either way, I’m with you. That makes me happy.”

I felt the same. “Me too, Rain.”

It was so hard to call him Cuckoo sometimes. It was an adjustment that would take time.

“You can call me Rain when we’re alone. Just you. No one else.”

He didn’t want that connection to his past. It made sense. I hated those awful memories of how we suffered as kids. Even now, I shoved it all behind a locked door in my mind, refusing to open it up and expose myself to the pain.

“I’m honored you trust me with it.”

“I trust you with my life.”

He said it with such conviction that I knew it wasn’t a lie.

“You need to know the gravity of those words, Katrina. I’m the type of man who trusts only his club. No one else. To extend my circle to include you is a big fucking deal.”

I lifted my head. “I get it. I trust you as well. Always have.”

“That’s why we’re the real deal, angel.”

God. When he said stuff like that to me, I just wanted to melt into a puddle at his feet.

It was so romantic and fierce and better than a romance novel.

He made me feel like nothing and no one was more important, beautiful, or special.

In truth, Rain always spoke to me this way.

He’d been loyal, protective, and kind to me when I arrived at the foster home.

I never forgot how he pulled me through the darkest days of my life. “Sometimes, I think you’re right.”

“Then I’ll just have to convince you until it’s all the time.”

I wondered if he was joking. It didn’t seem like it. “We’re not kids anymore, Rain. You’re not obligated to me.”

“No,” he agreed. “I’m not. Angel, I’m here because this is where I want to be.”

My heart made a little pitter-patter in my chest. “You still take my breath away with the words you say.”

And the conviction behind them. He’d always been intense.

“That’s only because you know I’m being honest.”

Probably.

“I saw a gas company truck outside your place when I pulled up. Everything okay?”

I forgot all about the service tech. “He knocked on my door and said he needed to read the meter for accuracy.”

Cuckoo nodded. “Ah.”

“You wanna watch a movie?” I asked, trying to keep him in my house a little longer. I couldn’t explain it, but since he showed up at the library, I’d been feeling emotional. His presence helped soothe the frayed edges.

“ The Princess Bride ?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll make the popcorn while you set it up.”

And just like that, we fell into a familiar and comfortable routine. Somewhere in the middle of the movie, I fell asleep.

When my eyes opened, daylight streaked across the sky in various shades of blue, fading the stars as the moon lowered to the horizon. Held against a solid, muscled chest, I realized I was lying on top of Rain. His arms circled me as he breathed deeply, keeping me close as we both rested.

Since it was Saturday morning, I didn’t have a reason to wake him. No shift at work. Nowhere else I had to be.

I closed my eyes, letting his warmth surround me.

It didn’t take long to join him.