Unmarked

35. Unable To Escape My Mind

Struggling to breathe, I gasp loudly. Pressure surrounds my skull, crushing inwards. Jas helped me, he saw what I did and now I owe him or rather he owns me. A wave of dread washes over me, large tears well around my eyes, and I bury my head into the pillow.

"Cady?" Grey mumbles.

Why is he here? Where am I? My brain tries to catch up with yesterday's events: escape, Teddy, hotel, shower, dressed, leave. Except, I don't recall the last two steps taking place. My hands run over a large t-shirt covering the top half of my body. That's odd.

"I know you're awake," Grey's voice sounds heavy with sleep.

"I know I'm awake too," My voice is hoarse from the thick layer of unshed tears in my throat. There's a moment of silence. "What am I wearing?"

"Your clothes were damp from laying on the bathroom floor so I bought you a t-shirt from the reception downstairs."

"They sell t-shirts?"

"They do for the right price. I'm fifty percent sure it's clean."

"Great, so I'm probably wearing some sweaty man's reject top," I joke. "I would have preferred to remain naked."

"I'll remember that for the next time." Grey laughs softly.

"Next time? Just because we went from friends to fiancé to husband and both of us referencing our future kids in the space of a day does not mean there will be a next time." I yawn.

Fatigue and tenderness seem to have embedded themselves into every fibre of my being. Through the open curtains, the dark skyline is alight with flecks of lights. Not quite night, not quite day. I wake up often at this time.

Shadows covering the room morph the outlines of basic objects into eerie creatures. Rolling onto my side, I watch the slow rise and fall of Grey's chest as he stares up at the ceiling.

"It's been a busy day," he sighs.

I listen to his deep breathing, and I'm sure I can hear him smile which must be impossible.

"Alicia? Where did you pick that name from?"

"I can't remember, but I don't like it. Alicia was not a good person." I swallow hard. She wasn't but neither am I. A different name doesn't make me any less responsible.

"From what I've seen, she's a fascinating person." He shuffles onto his side to face me. Part of me wants to lean closer, inhale him in and fill myself with the safety of his scent.

"I'm not fascinating." I shake my head. "I'm a liar, a coward and..." I've done terrible things. I've hurt and even killed. How can I admit what I am without him being disgusted?

"You've done what you needed to do for survival in an unjust society which imposes harsh and ridiculous restrictions. Anyone in your position would have done the same, if not worse. We've all done things we are not proud of."

What has he done that he's not proud of? Is it the reason he was imprisoned in a labour camp? I want to ask. I don't. It's not my business, and I don't want him asking the same questions, expecting me to expose all my secrets. He already knows far too much. Yet, I want to know more about him.

Questions hang on the tip of my tongue. I bite them back and say, "Grey?"

"Hmmmm?" He mumbles sleepily.

My hand reaches out towards his face. My fingers drift along his scratchy jaw towards his lips. His whole face stills, his breath hitches in his throat.

"I want to kiss you," my voice is a whisper, "can I?"

"Yes," his voice sounds husky.

I move closer, resting my hand on his chest, his heart thumping rapidly. My lips press against his. Soft and warm, his mouth moulds to mine and this isn't like those sweet kisses from Teddy. This is nothing like those. I don't know what these are.

These kisses are intense and overpowering. Maybe, it's the tiredness or darkness or the fact he knows I'm Unmarked. Whatever the reason, I allow myself to enjoy this kiss. Let myself forget everything else and be taken over by the curling intoxicating wave of desire.

My body involuntarily arches closer to him, and my stomach is somersaulting. Grey's hand moves along the back of my neck, down my arm, caressing my skin and leaving a trail of heat which further fuels the burning sensation inside. I want more. My hand dips under his t-shirt, exploring his skin. My fingers trace the shape of him.

"Cady, are you sure-"

"Don't overthink this. Right now, nothing else matters," I murmur.

Grey pulls me closer, kissing me more urgently. I guess he agrees. I straddle him. Leaning back, I pull off his t-shirt. His one arm wraps around my waist while the other grabs the back of my neck, pulling me back towards him so our mouths meet.

Our bodies are entwined, our hands roam and we're rolling, him on top of me, his body against mine. The heat of his skin radiates through the thin layers of material separating us.

The pressure of him on top of me is unexpectedly too much. His body is crushing me, trapping me. I flashback to the night before, the unwanted weight of a man and his unwanted touch. A wave of nausea surges upwards. I'm struggling to breathe, and no matter how much I tell myself it's Grey, I can't get enough air into my lungs. Panting, I shove Grey off me.

"Are you ok?" Grey jerks back and flicks on the side lamp filling the room with a soft glow.

"Yes. Just... I... you were on top of me ... it reminded me..." I swallow back the bile searing up my throat. Don't think about the man from last night. It could have been worse, a lot worse, but the knowledge doesn't give me any sense of relief.

"We shouldn't be doing this now. This was a mistake." Grey runs his hands through his hair.

A mistake? I start to scrabble upwards. I need to go. I should have never stayed. This was a mistake. It's time for me to leave and run. My automatic instinct, my tactic for self-preservation and survival.

Grey darts in front of me. "You can't run from this, Cady."

'"Who said I'm running?"

"You get this look."

"No, I don't." Do I?

"Yes, you do. It's the same expression you wore earlier when you saw Jas, and when we were waiting outside the hotel. It's also the same look I witnessed when you first arrived at the fight club." Grey steps closer. "Running won't help. It won't make what happened disappear."

It could. If I tried hard enough, I could erase the last few days from my memory. Not fully. I already know complete deletion is an unachievable goal. Nothing really disappears, only sits festering until it's a thousand times worse.

Grey gently pulls me into his arms, warm and comforting. The sensation causes my eyes to become heavy and wet.

"We can talk or remain silent, but I'm here for you," Grey says softly.

This simple statement and act of kindness shatters any thought I had of running and leaving. I can't leave. I don't think I actually would have, not until Grey has a plan, not until I know he'll be safe.

I'm responsible for too many deaths, too many ruined lives. I won't add Grey to my list.