Grip (The Slip Trilogy Book 2) Read Free Page B

that he knows about Luce’s horrific past—her attempted rape by an orphanage headmaster—he understands it. Sometimes it’s like there’s an invisible force field holding them apart. And when they touch it’s like an electric shock that hurts so much they have to pull away. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to close the gap, to draw her close, to kiss her; rather, he’ll let her decide when and where. Even though it’s hard. Like really hard. Especially because they’ve kissed a few times now, and it’s all he can seem to think about when he’s with her.
    Even now, he jerks his head when he realizes he’s staring at her pink lips. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem to notice.
    “We should tell Check about us,” Luce says.
    He likes the way “us” sounds on her lips. On her tongue. “I know,” Benson says. “I will.”
    “When?”
    “Soon?”
    Luce lets out a frustrated laugh, but drops her hand into the space between them, palm up. The signal that she’s ready to be touched by him. He doesn’t hesitate, slowly lowering his hand to rest atop hers. He feels the tremble in her fingers, hears her quick sharp breaths, can almost see the flashes of terrible memories cycling through her head as she tries to separate the nightmares of the past from his harmless touch.
    She squeezes his hand and he squeezes back.
    “I’ll tell him tonight,” he promises. Why did I promise that? he thinks, instantly regretting it. A bulge of anxiety fills his stomach. Now he really doesn’t feel hungry.
    “Thanks,” Luce says, leaning in, her eyes already closed. He takes advantage of the opportunity to study her thick, arching eyebrows, her long lashes, her button nose, and her moist lips, puckered slightly. All that in a split-second, the longest he can wait before ducking his head to let his lips meet hers. The kiss sends tingles through his whole body and his hands seem to move on their own, without command from his brain. One cups her chin and then slides around to the back of her head, tangling in her silky hair. The other drops to her hip and he feels her shudder and freeze at his touch. Not long ago he would’ve taken it as a rejection, but now he knows to simply wait. Wait for her mind to catch up to reality, to chase away her demons. And she does, because her hands move, too, painting his chest and arms with delicate strokes.
    When they finally pull apart they’re both laughing.
    He remembers something Janice once told him growing up, before his father faked Benson’s death and she lost her mind. Happy moments are like stars. They seem so close you think you can touch them, but really they’re fleeting and a million miles away. Enjoy them from afar and don’t come to expect them. In your life there will be more cloudy nights than clear ones. At the time they were sitting side by side and craning their necks to gaze at the star-strewn sky, and it was one of the best moments of his short life.
    There’s a star-like twinkle in Luce’s eyes now and he can’t help the thrill he feels knowing that he put it there, like a happy, untouchable memory. “So tonight?” she says.
    He cringes, remembering his promise. “Uh, yeah,” he says.
    “Don’t sound so confident,” she jokes.
    “I’m not,” he says. “Check might kill me when I tell him.”
    “Want me to do it?” she asks.
    He sighs. “I’m his best friend—I should do it. And anyway, I think it would be much worse coming from you.”
    “Why?”
    “Because he’ll need someone to hit, and he can’t hit you.”
    “Maybe you should wear a helmet,” she says. Although it sounds like she is, he knows she’s not joking.
     
    ~~~
     
    Article from the Saint Louis Times:
    Is Refuge Real?
     
    With the disappearance of the Saint Louis Slip, talk has escalated about a place known simply as Refuge. If you believe the rumors, Refuge is a harbor for Slips who manage to escape from the authorities. But is it real or modern-day fiction, the equivalent of