I’d always loved books and the knowledge they gave. But her laptop? Fuck me, it was as if I had the entire world at my fingertips without ever leaving her home.
After I’d accompanied her to the gym a few times, she invited me to go with her to the supermarket. To see all the cans, cartons, and jars full of food I used to have in the valley before I’d run out.
However, I’d declined. In all honesty, I wasn’t quite ready. Her house had become a sanctuary to me. The online stuff was helping me figure out my place in this new existence.
I was doing good.
I hadn’t had a relapse where I became a danger to her, and the longer I stayed sane without flashbacks or panic attacks, the less inclined I was to upset my new balance.
The only other outing I’d done with her had been to a local plant nursery. It’d given me a headache that lasted for days afterward, sending my heart rate sky high and my protective instincts into overdrive. The sales assistant had smiled a bit too friendly at Gemma. He’d stood too close. He’d laughed too loud at her replies to his gardening questions.
I’d wanted to plant my fist in his face.
By the time we’d arrived home and unloaded the trays of seedlings Gem had purchased, I had better control over myself. But it didn’t stop me from snatching her around the waist and carrying her into the house.
My sudden need for her came from stark fear of losing her.
My aggression as I ripped off her jeans, bent her over the couch arm, and slammed inside her was my way of assuring myself she was still here, still safe, still mine.
I’d imprinted myself on her. I’d touched everywhere to make sure she was unhurt from strangers. She’d matched my chaos, fucking me back, hard and rough, letting me lose control in relief that she was okay. We were okay.
At least with the gardening supplies, I finally had something to occupy my time with while she created videos for work. I transformed her overgrown garden from pointless to productive. I dug neat veggie rows, read sites online that Gemma taught me how to use, and planted winter vegetables, doing my best to provide for her when all her money provided for me.
I sighed, doing my best to turn off my mind. I lay with my arms out to the sides and my legs spread like a dead starfish on the small grassy area beneath the boulders Gem was currently scaling.
Clenching my stomach, I sat up and reclined against my elbows. This was the second climbing expedition she’d brought me on outside. But it was the first where she’d asked me to run the video equipment.
I’d done what she taught me—set up the camera on the tripod, checked periodically that the frame was still centered, following her progress (thanks to the movement detection technology), and ensured that the lighting was still adequate.
My heart thundered in my chest as I looked past the cameras, through the empty field, and studied Gem, currently halfway up a massive boulder that looked mean with craggy corners and weathered rock.
Christ, she’s stunning.
Her teal leggings showed every muscle as her legs bunched and propelled her up the stone. Her tight T-shirt showed the lines of her sports bra underneath, rippling over her shoulders as she reached for the next hand hold.
She was so strong, so agile, so mine.
I grew hard as she inched closer to the top.
I always grew hard watching her climb. My mind teased me with the night when she’d run away from me. I hadn’t seen her scale the cliff after she hit me around the head with the shovel, but I imagined she looked like she did now. Graceful and powerful, climbing her way into the sky with ease.
I still didn’t understand how she made money from this stuff, but I couldn’t deny, watching her was hypnotic. And even though there was money in online things, I’d yet to take up her offer to create my own YouTube channel. To me, it was a fucking scary place. A window where complete strangers could look into Gemma’s life, yet she couldn’t look into theirs.
After the comments that first day? The sexualized sentences about me. The cruel remarks.
I didn’t like it.
I glanced at the video timer.
Thirty-three minutes and she’d scaled this boulder twice already.
She said she like to film up to two hours’ worth of content to edit it down into a twenty-minute video. I’d learned a hell of a lot the past few weeks. Constantly amazed to see just how different the world was compared to the books I’d read in Fables.
I’d believed those books were modern and how the outside world was. Fiction authors swore it was contemporary and of this era, yet actually living in this era? So many advancements were never mentioned in those pages.