"What will I do with you?" he says quietly, lust warming his gaze. "I can't even turn my back on you, you villain."
He kisses me.
His lips are soft and urgent and everything Jack's lips were not. My body reacts without hesitation. I am arms and legs around him, back arched, mouth open. Here is the boy who knows my secrets and wants me anyway. The boy who punished Jack for his sins, who flew through the air like a warcraft and delivered retribution to Mr. Hodge.
He is broken like me.
I am broken like him.
But together, we fill our missing pieces-glue and gentle fingers and kisses on bruises.
What destruction could we bring together?
What good could we bring to others who have seen what we've seen?
This may not be the right thing, but it is the thing I choose. Cain pushes his arms beneath my back and pulls me closer, his tongue causing a clap of thunder to rumble through my body. His hands run through my pink wig, and he pulls it away, tosses it to the floor. Good riddance. I don't want it. I don't want anything between us.
Look at my face, Cain, please.
See me.
Almost as if he can read my mind, he stops and stares into my eyes, searching. "I am yours, Domino. And I want to know you. I want to know everything." He buries his face in my neck and kisses me softly. "Stay with me?"
His need heals a sharp, jagged place in my soul. Smooths the edges so it's not as hazardous. It is always me who needs others. But he needs me. I don't know what promises I can keep in this lifetime, but I can't breathe until I say, "I'm staying. Cain." It feels so right to voice the words. A prophecy I'm desperate to fulfill.
I run my hands slowly over Cain's body, taking in the sloping curves of his biceps, the rises and valleys of his muscled back, the swell of his shoulders. I'm swallowed by his body, and it feels amazing. My trepidation at being touched is all but gone when it comes to Cain. Maybe I never had a problem with touch to begin with. Maybe it was the people touching me I feared.
Cain kisses the hollow between my collarbones and then trails kisses up my throat until our lips meet.
"I want you," Cain whispers against my mouth.
I arch my back in response, telling him I'm right here, though nerves shoot through my legs. Do I want this now? Here? I'm not sure I'm ready.
"When we're away from here," Cain continues, "starting our new life in Kansas, there's going to come a moment when I won't be able to stop myself. If you don't want me to, that is."
I smile against his skin. "You want to go to Kansas?"
He nods. "After we finish this, I want to do that thing you said. See if I could still play. Even if I can't, maybe I could try to enroll anyway. Maybe you could, too."
I think about this. About getting my GED and applying for college in Kansas. Watching Cain play football and cheering him on, Poppet and I sucking on sour pickles in the bleachers, our blood running the same color as his jersey. We'll have an apartment near campus with two bedrooms, one for Poppet and one for Cain and me. We'll make friends, have parties, dream about our futures, make cappuccinos for paychecks, and vote for the first time in a public election. I'll learn how to make a proper casserole, and Poppet will meet a boy she admits she loves.
Cain will keep us safe. Wilson will quietly slip away, unneeded, and we'll stretch our arms toward the possibilities that life holds.
And one day, quietly, after Poppet has moved in with her boyfriend of two years, Cain and I will look around us and say, we should buy a home of our own. Cain will insist I pick the place, and I'll do so with him in mind.
The walls in our house will be blue. We'll paint them using long strokes, and we'll put on three coats if that's what it takes. In the backyard there will be a swing lounging in the sun. We'll paint that red and watch as the years of rain erode our work. Inside there will be soft couches bought from real furniture stores and a dining table where we'll eat eggs and toast with raspberry jam.
And in our room. In our room we'll have a king-sized bed with a violet comforter. It'll be big enough for us to spread out in, but small enough so that we can always feel each other there. It'll be a room we'll sleep in. Dream in. It will be our room.
I laugh at my imagination. All I ever wanted was a real home and to be invisible. Now all I want is a home with Cain, and for him to see me, and see me, and see me.
Cain dips his head, touches our foreheads together like he wants to breathe in the sound of my laughter.
We stay like that for several minutes, daydreaming, kissing, cuddling beneath warm sheets, until a single thought occurs to me.