Escaping Death

Teeth - 5 seconds of summer

Some days, you’re the best thing in my life

Sometimes when I look at you, I see my wife

Then you turn into somebody I don’t know

And you push me away

.

.

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Ace

I wanted to be here when she woke up, I wanted her to know she was safe and protected. Instead she woke up alone, in a strange bed, in a strange house, and has just learned that she’s not in fact pregnant. Now I’m filtering through the last few weeks trying to figure out where I missed the cues that she’d be disappointed if she wasn’t pregnant.

“She’s upset about not being pregnant?” I ask Tate.

“Not exactly, no.”

“Well then what?” I have a limited supply of patience and I don’t want to waste it on him.

Dean chimes in, putting the pieces together for me. “You told her she’d stay with us if she was pregnant, but she’s not. So now she must think you won’t want her to stay.”

Tate nods, confirming his brother’s theory. “I’m pretty sure the only reason she hasn’t taken off is because she has no idea where she is.”

I release a heavy sigh before I climb the stairs three at a time in a rush to get upstairs to her.

Standing at her closed door I can hear her soft cries and sniffles, each one is a punch to my chest. Would it have been ideal for her to be pregnant? No. But can I honestly say I wouldn’t enjoy watching her belly stretch with life? Also no.

So what if she’s not pupped, she’s not going anywhere…we can try again. I’d gladly try again, I’d try night and day because I can’t get enough of her and I’m done pretending like watching her walk away was ever something I’d be capable of.

It might have been possible after the first week she was here, but every smile, every laugh, every time she drove me to flames endeared me to her more and more, and now there’s no sense in denying that I’m fucking hooked. She’s mine.

I ease open the door and into the room where she’s laying on her side curled up as small as she can on the bed wearing cotton shorts and one of Eli’s hoodies. Her pastel baby blue hair spills out of the hood of her sweatshirt, concealing most of her face. Anyone who takes the time to really study Solana can see she literally wears her emotions. Dark hair is for hiding herself, white is when she’s content and unguarded, red is playful, and blue is…hurt. Solana is hurting.

The way her body freezes and her sniffles silence tells me she knows I’m here. But I don’t want her to put on a brave face for me, I know she’s strong. I want her to feel safe enough to let her guard down for good with me. I climb into bed behind her and almost instantly she flips over and buries her head in my chest as she unleashes wave after wave of sobs.

“What’s got you so upset, Princess?” I stroke her hair back out of her face.

“Nothing,” she sniffs and sits up in bed. “Just being hormonal.” She says with a shrug but I can tell she doesn’t believe her own lies.

I sit up next to her, catching her chin in my grasp. “There are no secrets in Death, Solana.” I warn her.

She scoffs weakly. “I’m not a part of Death. Never have been. And worst of all I deluded myself into thinking I ever could be.”

Her words singe me like a hot iron, burning through my flesh and leaving a permanent imprint on me.

“If I don’t belong here, then I don’t belong anywhere,” she almost whispers and I think it’s the most honest thing she’s ever said to me. Little does she know my mind has long since been made up.

Dean was right, and it’s my fault that she feels this way.

I need to talk to her one on one, away from the guys, away from the slowly draining blood soaked shower floor, away from everything except her and me so that I can pull my fierce, pain in the ass hellion back into reality and tell her exactly where I stand as far as her and I go. She walked through my front door swinging, I’m not going to let her lose her will to fight.

She shrieks loudly when I grab her abruptly and throw her over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Tate is halfway up the stairs to see why she shrieked when he registers that she’s in no immediate danger.

“Tell the others we’ll be back tomorrow,” I inform him, eliciting a string of obscenities to come flying from Solana’s mouth. A swift smack to her ass, conveniently located by my ear, does nothing but piss her off even more. Good. I want to rattle her beehive, that’s how you draw out the queen.

“I said I’m not in the fucking mood! Put me the fuck down!” Solana pounds at my back.

“As you wish,” I throw her down on the bed in the cabana I teleported us to. It’s a private little hut, closed on three sides by flowering vines which provide much needed shade from the tropical sun. The last side is completely open, adorned with white curtains that can be left open or closed for more privacy. The beach we’re on is a private beach on a private island off of Brazil’s shores, so really the curtains are more for decoration.

I straddle her legs on the bed, pinning her down and making sure she can’t run or hide from me. She sits up in protest, shoving at my chest, “just let me go!”

“Why would I do that?” I kiss her neck, every time my lips make contact with her skin her resistance weakens.

“We agreed. I was never meant to stay.”

My teeth scrape along her throat and I lash my tongue over her marking spot pulling a soft moan from her throat. “Anything else?”

“I – I don’t belong here.”

I trail my tongue up the column of her neck where I can nibble at her ear lobe. “You sure about that?”

“I heard what you said, assho– oh, fuck,” she moans when I work my hand up beneath her hoodie and tweak her nipple. “I heard you. You said you’d claim me if I was pregnant. But I’m not, so you’re off the hook. You can let me go.”

Making no sudden movements, I slowly lay myself down next to her. Mentally I count to five. One, her hair has gone from baby blue to blue-black. Two, she fusses with the strings from the hood of her sweatshirt. Three, her head turns towards me, searching my eyes for answers. Four, the memory of her blood staining her beautiful champagne skin. Five, the way my chest constricts with the need to protect her – to possess her.

“Then go,” I say softly. “I’m not holding you here. You can fly off anytime.”

She regards me warily, “you’d let me go? Just like that?”

“If that’s what you truly wanted, yes,” I admit honestly and I can see the disappointment she tries to hide. “But, that’s not what I want.”

That got her attention. Her eyes snap to me, wide and bright.

“If you’re going to make a decision like that then you should do it knowing full well my stance on the matter, not just what you perceive to be fact or fiction. Because the truth is that I’ve wanted you since the moment you stormed into my home and punched Hunter in the face.”

She rolls her eyes in an attempt to dismiss me but I press on. “I was afraid of what wanting you would mean for my pack…my family, really. It took nearly losing you for me to admit to myself that I don’t want a life without you in it, much less choose one. But more than anything, I want you to be able to make this decision for yourself. Not because you think it’s what I want, not because you feel like you have no other choice, but because it’s what you want.”

Inch by inch she turns more of her body to face me until we’re laying on our sides, eye to eye, nose to nose. “You want me to want you to stay. I want the same thing. So let’s skip the part where you dig in your stubborn heels and pretend like you haven’t already decided what you wa—“

Her lips on mine silence me, stealing the very breath from my lungs. I kiss her back, resting my hand on her lower back and pulling us flush together from lips to hips.

I’ve kissed Sol many times, but this feels different than all of those. This isn’t some heat of the moment rush of passion, this isn’t sexual tension snapping at it’s breaking point. This is tender, vulnerable.

“I want to stay,” she breathes against my lips. “If you’ll have me.”