Chapter Thirty
John leaned his forearms against the railing, watching as the sun shone on the waves of the ocean. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking in the tang of salt water mixed with the scent of his coffee. He tilted the mug to his lips, sipping on the hot beverage.
He heard the door open and close, choosing to ignore the woman behind him as she stepped toward his back. "John…" Claire whispered, seeing the tension in every muscle in his bare back. She watched as his scars rippled with the strong muscles beneath them. "Are you okay?"
He looked over his shoulder at the redhead, tracing the scar from the incision of his lifesaving lung surgery. He remembered the burn of his blood filling his lung, the fire of it when he'd started coughing it up onto Claire's bedding. "No." He grunted, turning back to the view of the ocean.
She nodded, stepping to the railing beside him. "Do you wanna talk?" She asked, watching how he downed the burning hot coffee like it was ice cold. She knew that he'd felt the burn of smoke and strong alcohol on his throat since a young age, but she still couldn't believe that he could drink hot drinks without even flinching.
He shrugged, tracing his fingers over the writing printed on his mug. "I can't go to prison." He started, lowering his head between his hunched shoulders. "I could hardly handle the two nights I was in a holding cell." He remembered how he'd learned to sleep with his back to the wall, afraid that he might be the next one to be roughed up. "The people in there…" He hated to think of what he might see in prison, hating to think of spending years locked away from Claire. "I can't even think about it." He could feel her gaze on him, but refused to look at her.
She looked at the key around his neck, smiling at the fact that he hadn't taken it off since the incident with Medusa. She traced her nails over the lines in her palm, wishing that John would let her touch him. "You won't go to prison. Daddy will make sure of that."
He took another swig of his coffee, wishing that it was tequila or vodka rather than the morning beverage. "I'm scared, Claire."
She nodded, knowing that he only used her real name when he was trying to hold himself together. She stretched her hand out to him, offering him the chance to use her as an escape if he needed it. "I know."
John lifted his head, taking her hand in his. He pulled her hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to her knuckles. "I don't want to lose you." He whispered, letting her wrap him in a hug.
She turned her face up to him, taking in the little bit of morning scruff on his chin, and feeling his body against hers still warm from his bed. "You won't lose me." She smiled, kissing his neck like she had in the supply closet. "I love you too much." She felt him shift, her heart jumping when he leaned his head down to kiss her lips. She rested her hands around his waist, noticing that she could barely feel the sharp bones of his hips under his slowly growing weight. He'd gained more muscle than fat, the hours he spent each day in the garage beating his fists into his heavy bag and lifting her father's weight sets showing in his build. She was happy that he had such a good body and cared enough to keep up his workouts even when he was physically exhausted from the stress he felt every day, but she feared that he was taking the workouts too far and not keeping a healthy fat percentage on him with how little he'd been eating. Of course, it didn't help that Ryan had forced him to cut back on carbs and sugar because he was so close to being diabetic. She knew that if he could eat more of those he would be gaining weight faster, but she also knew that if he ate too much he would be forced to take insulin to survive.
She parted her lips slightly, feeling his tongue slide against them and into her mouth. She could taste the coffee he'd been drinking, mixing with his natural flavor.
He pulled her closer to him, feeling the curve of her braless chest against his body. He retracted his tongue letting Claire into his own mouth to let her feel like his equal. He felt her push deep into his mouth, her tongue nearly choking him. Pleasure shot through him as he felt her nails dig into his back, just above the waistband of his sweatpants. Her fingers pressed to the jagged scar along the back of his hips, where his father had pushed him into a broken window and bent him backwards over the sharp edge of the glass. He pressed himself against her, feeling her back touch the railing of the porch. He felt her moan into his mouth, feeling his own stress melting away with her love. He pulled back, resting his forehead against hers as they both struggled to catch their breath. "I love you. More than I can say."
She smiled, letting herself lean into his chest, listening to his strong heart deep in his chest. "I love you too. I just wish you would believe me."
He sighed, knowing that she could never understand. "It's hard when you've never felt love before." He met her gaze, feeling her press her hand to his jaw. "But I'm trying."
She nodded, brushing her thumb over the diamond earring in his piercing. "I know."