Ethereal Love (Book 2 LS Series)

Chapter 49

Skipper's POV

The feeling of new and fresh scrubs against my skin does nothing to quell the horrific images that now intermingle murderously with the images of X. "Skipper, what's wrong?" I can't even bring myself to look up at Michael.

As I watched the bloody water swirl around the shower floor and then ease into the drain, I couldn't stop thinking of tonight. The hospital was the only place I could go, and have an excuse for being bloody. It was just an accident in the OR, I told the nurses. Nothing was wrong. I went to the showers, and attempted to rinse away the blood.

All was quiet except for the sound of my weak sobbing, and the wind blowing the empty cans around the alley. Jay sat back and watched  as I performed CPR on the two corpses, willing them to wake up. To be okay. But they weren't okay, because they were just corpses.

"Come on, Mamacita." I had been fighting off Blake forever, he tried to stop me. Eventually, I allowed him to pull me away from the bodies. The look on his face was soft for the first time. "Why?" I breathed as he lead me toward our car, shivering and dripping with red. "Why did he do that?"

"He had to, Mamacita. It's collateral damage." I cut my eyes toward Jay, who just stared at me blankly. "This is what you got yourself into. Deal with it." He opened the car door and slammed it behind him. "How could he just take lives, and not care?" I sobbed. "That's just Jay. And those two were the definition of scum, they weren't lives." He got in the car too, along with Carleigh.

I forced myself to get into the car as well, and stared out the window. As Jay drove back to Manhattan, I saw my face in the side view mirrors. My tears cut a clean trail through the blood on my cheeks.

I am not so sure anymore, about The Clan. I've waded too far in. I don't want to be involved in this anymore, much less anyone's death.

"Skipper?" Michael's voice brings me back to my bitter reality. I'm standing in the middle of his bedroom now, and the light is on. I turned it on I think. Michael is shirtless, and staring at me. He stands beside the bed, and the sheets are messed. I think he was sleeping.

"What are you doing? Skipper?" Michael says softly, blinking rapidly from the light. I just want to forget. I want to erase tonight from the board of existence, and I think Michael might help me do that. I walk over to him numbly, and slide out of my lab coat. "Skipper." He says quietly, looking down at my discarded coat.

I cover his mouth with mine, and he doesn't hesitate to return the love. He tasted good, like sweet cinnamon. I begin to strip, and soon his hands take over for me, doing what I am too tired to do myself. "Sweetheart," He whispers into my partially wet hair, and when I look down I think we're both naked now.

Michael presses against me, and pushes me onto the bed. I watch as he crawls on top of me, as his mouth latches onto my collarbone. He gives me a devilish grin, and then begins to lay a trail of kisses going down my stomach.

I clench the sheets in anticipation, and force myself to watch him. Maybe that will take my mind off of things.

****

"You were really into it this time," Michael whispers in my ear, trailing his fingers up and down my arm. Little does he know, I am soaking his pillowcase with my tears. "But you weren't as vocal. I like it when you talk to me," He reminds me. I am facing away from him. He pulls me closer to his chest, which is feverishly hot, and heaving.

"Yeah," I manage to squeak, sniffling quietly. "I had fun." He sits up quickly, and and grabs my shoulder, forcing me to turn toward him. His eyebrows dip down with worry when he notices the wet spot on his pillow case. "What's the matter, baby? Why are you crying?"