Chapter 22 Skylar
SKYLAR
This wasn’t what I had pictured when I set up the visit to Colbert’s leather museum.
Being held—sort of—captive in a Texas basement, sprawled on a pile of blankets with my leg draped over my soulmate and my head on his chest, wasn’t it at all.
Having my sister’s boyfriend’s skin down here with us wasn’t on the agenda either. But he’s here.
Kind of.
Once Knox was done fleshing him, he tossed him into a liming barrel because “that’s the ritual and, really, we’ve seen enough of this fucker.”
After that, we had an actual meal. Eggs and bacon, a small portion of both. Just enough to keep me strong without upsetting my stomach.
Yeah. No version of me could’ve imagined any of this.
Then again, this entire trip has been one surprise after another. I was supposed to be murdered. By my own sister.
But instead of dying, the universe gave something far better.
Knox.
Locked in his embrace, my wound bandaged and my heart cradled in his hand, I’ve found peace. I belong. I’m safe. Adored.
Somewhere in the farmhouse, Bronwyn is dying. Rotting.
And I don’t care about her.
This moment is too perfect to ruin by thinking about Bronwyn.
The brush of Knox’s fingers over the curve of my back is the only thing I can focus on. His touch sends shivers up my spine. The corners of my lips hike up as I snuggle closer to him.
A contented hum rumbles through his chest, the vibration widening my smile. It’s wider still when his arm flexes around me, suffocating me like only he can.
He needs me pressed tight against him, wants my warmth. My soul. Me.
That’s what he’s demanding.
And so do I.
Aching to have more of him, I turn my head slightly and brush a kiss to his chest.
Two fingers slip beneath my chin, tipping my face up.
One fierce second passes, and his gaze locks with mine. “Hi.”
“Hey,” I whisper.
Then his mouth is on me, his teeth and tongue devouring me.
Just as quickly, he tucks me back against his bare chest.
His lips press on the crown of my head, and I sigh, already craving more.
“Trouble.”
“Yes?”
There’s no tighter hug than this. “You’re lost, aren’t you?”
His question…it doesn’t land as a question. It explodes from inside me, shredding my organs. Wrecking my heart.
I swallow hard, choking back the sudden sob rising in my throat.
This is the first time anyone’s cared enough to try to get through to me.
My parents love me. There’s no doubt about that. With every hug between shifts, every proud smile, they’ve proved it.
They also think that loving me means giving me space.
It isn’t. Some days, when Bronwyn’s bullying got really bad, I felt like I didn’t belong anywhere. I wished someone would prove me wrong, but I was too afraid to reach out.
Didn’t mean I wanted to be alone. I ached for someone to be there. To see me. Maybe just sit with me. Watch a movie. Eat popcorn.
Even a simple question, like the one Knox has asked me now, would’ve sufficed. Would’ve made a difference. Would’ve told me someone saw how lonely I was.
But no one came.
No one asked.
No one saw me.
Not until him.
His grip on my heart is careful, almost tender. Stroking. Calming.
With a few words, he’s letting me know that he’s found me. That drifting through life belongs to a past that no longer matters.
“I am.” Without the sob clawing at my throat, I can finally speak. My voice is steady. “I’m lost.”
My nails digging into Knox’s chest are the only sign that something’s rattling me.
He senses it, his voice softer when he asks, “Want to talk about it?”
Knox is more than just curious. He’s trying, in his unconventional way, to break through my walls. To give me everything I need. Comfort. Space. Connection.
How effortlessly he burrows into my soul and comes up with solutions. A man who doesn’t know me is giving me everything.
Before I open my mouth—and God, do I need it, this outlet—I think twice. A million times.
It’s not that I don’t trust Knox.
It’s my past haunting me.
The words Bronwyn encouraged my classmates to say, even in college.
No one cares what you think, Skylar. Would you just shut up already?
Almost everyone but Alexandra and a handful of others took turns bullying me.
But what if Bronwyn didn’t convince them to be mean to me? What if she only gave them permission to treat me the way they already wanted to?
If that’s the case, and I start blabbering, will Knox get tired of me too?
I shiver at the thought, my hands clenching into fists.
“Hey.” His fingers flex against my back, sliding to my arm and squeezing it. “Whatever’s going on in that pretty head of yours, stop it. You can tell me anything, and I’m not going anywhere. I want you. All of you.”
If only it were that easy. Being myself and hoping for the best. “I don’t know.”
His thumb strokes my arm as his reverence speaks to my fears, my pain, my scars.
“Nothing you say will make me love you any less.” He runs his hand up my arm before resting firmly at the base of my throat, a silent claim. “Come to me. Talk to me.”
His devotion feels like home. I hold on to him tighter, snuggling into him as if he isn’t a monster. As if I can melt into his body so he’ll never leave.
“Knox,” I sigh, snuggling closer.
“I’m here.” Love, tenderness. A sense of belonging. That’s what he gives me with this one simple sentence. “Talk.”
I want to. Just not about my parents. Or my solitude. Or the years-long ache.
Not yet.
“I can’t stop thinking about how you found me.” I trace the hard lines of his pecs, the barely there brush of hair. “And how much I like being in your arms. Which is reckless.”
“Why?” Not a hint of hurt in his voice.
If anything, he seems even more certain. He eases me onto my side and shifts to face me, one of his long legs sliding between mine.
He cups my cheek in his palm, a wordless plea to keep talking.
Every movement is a quiet reassurance. You’re safe. I’m here, I won’t run.
I curl my hand over his wrist, pressing my thumb to his pulse point. Shamelessly, I’m learning the rhythm of his heartbeats through my fingertips.
“We don’t know each other.”
That statement doesn’t offend him either. His eyes are a light shade of hazel, nothing dark about them. His expression is open.
“What else?” he probes, curious.
He makes it easier to elaborate. To be myself.
“You saved me back there, in the farmhouse. You also kidnapped me.”
His pulse quickens. His neck tendons pull taut.
“We…we’ve hardly had a chance to have an actual conversation,” I whisper, not accusing, not shouting. I’m trying too, for both of us. “And after everything that’s happened, here I am. In your arms. Willingly. Trusting you. Liking it, being at your mercy. Which is reckless.”
That gives him pause. His chest expands, and a line forms between his eyebrows.
Knox, once again, is figuring out how to talk to me. To communicate with me.
In his silence, Knox is screaming.
I care. I love you.
My eyes, they water. Goosebumps prickle across my naked skin. It’s a wildfire of sensations, of feelings too deep to name.
We stare into each other’s eyes for what feels like hours.
He doesn’t flinch or stop thinking, thinking, thinking.
When he opens his mouth, I hold my breath.
“I told you I don’t want to kill my family unless I have to.” Each word is weighted. “That we’re different. But I didn’t explain. Didn’t say anything other than they weren’t like Bronwyn. I’m finally ready to really open up. For you.”
“Are you serious?” I expected honesty, but not this fast. Not so easily. My pulse punches hard against the inside of my throat. Hope tastes sweet on my tongue. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” Despite the three layers of blankets Knox stacked as a makeshift bed, the cement floor is still hard beneath us. Knox’s gaze is as soft as it’ll ever be. I think. “I was always going to tell you anyway. But since you need it, I’m going to do it sooner rather than later.”
“Well, I already know they’re bastards.” The rude outburst slips unannounced. I slap a hand over my mouth.
Knox pries it off. Gently.
“That’s okay, Skylar. They could’ve been better, I know. But I don’t hate them. They’re my family.”
“Could’ve been better is an understatement.” My brow furrows. “They’re mean to you. I hate that.”
“They’re not bad. Only Jett.” He huffs, and my heart twitches.
Being bullied by your sibling hits way too close to home.
“And I can’t take him out. He’s the one who’ll be taking care of the family after I’m gone.
They don’t have anyone else as capable as he is.
It’ll be years before Reese can take my place. ”
Minutes pass as he considers how to continue his story. Meanwhile, Easton’s skin sheds hair, protein, and other substances in the liming barrel.
“Colbert, the town, the business, there’s nothing nice about it.
” He looks over his shoulder at the barrels.
When he’s back to staring at me, I flush at his attention.
“That’s all we’ve got. We’re born into this, we grow into this, we die surrounded by this.
Things have changed over the years, but our bloodline remains pretty much the same. Death and leather.”
The photos from the exhibit flash before my eyes. Horror clutches at my throat. My lungs.
“Shh.” As if sensing my distress, he rubs my temple in a circular motion with his thumb while he uses his leg to pull me into him.
“Where are the rest of the townsfolk?” I whisper, even though I already know.
“Purses. Jackets. Belts.” His hand drifts down, lower, wrapping gently around my throat. His grip is both possessive and comforting. “Shoes, I guess.”
Facing another layer of the cold truth hurts more than I thought it would.
Then again, this town doesn’t define him. Violence might be in Knox’s DNA, but he’s already evolved past it. He’s getting out of here because he’s done.
“The cows and goats were first to go when Grandpa’s parents died,” he continues.
“Oh God.” My stomach churns. The memory of the older man tricking me sends a chill up my spine.