Chapter Eighteen #2
Fuck my life, but I know what I need to do. I goddamn hate the idea of it—I hate Killian for dragging me back into this world, his world—but I’m in it now. I can either play the game and win or get killed.
“Killian.” I stand from my seat, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here. Is it already dinner time?”
Killian masks his surprised quite well, but I catch the twitch in his eyebrow. “It is, my love. Are you ready to go? Have you finished for the day?”
“More than ready.” I give an exaggerated sigh. “I was just about to drop with exhaustion when Silas came in.” I gather my laptop and notebook into my bag and cross the room, embracing Killian and pressing my lips to his.
Ruse or not, the kiss turns too real, too fast. His hands clutch my waist, his tongue penetrates my lips, and every morsel of Killian’s energy bears down on me from all sides, making me dizzy.
Only Silas clearing his throat pulls us apart. I turn, giving him a look of faux-surprise. “So sorry,” I say breathlessly, not even having to fake it. “Forgot you were there. Are you finished with your rant, or should I sit back down for a while?”
“I am going to fucking destroy you.” Silas’s words are barely a hiss.
“Both of you. You’ll be dead by the time I’m through, and you,” he glares at Killian, “will watch me cut your fiancée up, piece by piece. Maybe I’ll start with her tits.
” He gives a cursory glance down at me. “Kill whatever tempted you in the first place.”
“Say that again, Cornell,” Killian murmurs, “and I’ll castrate you. I’ll do it either way, but it’ll probably be sooner rather than later.”
Silas wisely does not respond. Killian hooks an arm around my waist. “Let’s get out of here,” he says quietly.
For once, I’m grateful to see him, and grateful to comply with his orders.
Killian forgoes the restaurant where we were booked and takes me directly back to his penthouse. He doesn’t give me a moment to breathe or compose myself—he backs me against the entryway wall. “Did he touch you?” he bites out.
I shake my head. “No. Just threatened. He might’ve, but then you got there.”
“In the future, you will listen to my orders when they’re issued. Your security will be in the same room as you or guarding the door. You will always have your phones on you, and the next time you tell me to go fuck myself, I’ll fuck your ass instead. Got it?”
I swallow. “Got it.”
“Good.”
He glares at me. “Apologize.”
I blink. “What?”
“Apologize,” he emphasizes. “For sending away the men who I pay to protect you, and for telling me to go fuck myself. For putting yourself in an extremely dangerous situation that sheer luck got you out of. For being so fucking difficult.”
I inhale a deep breath, fully prepared to tell him to go fuck himself, only to pause.
Killian’s at least somewhat attempted to apologize to me recently.
Twice, in fact. Granted, his apologies were completely incorrectly delivered and absolute trash, but I can acknowledge the effort it would take someone like him to apologize to me.
Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to demonstrate how an apology should be uttered.
Besides, he’s not entirely wrong. He’s made it clear that I’m in an extremely precarious situation and that there are forces working against both of us. That my life is in danger, and in his own twisted, controlling way, he’s trying to keep me safe.
It was reckless of me to send away his guards. Of course, it was cruel of him to bring me into such danger, but what’s done is done.
Apology it is. Hopefully he learns something. If I’m stuck with him, we might as well figure out how to actually communicate with each other.
“I’m sorry. I was—and am—upset with you over the life you’ve pulled me into, but that doesn’t excuse my recklessness.
I shouldn’t have sent the guards away, and I should’ve taken my phone with me.
Since we’re in this together, we should act like it.
” I incline my head, lowering my eyes. “It won’t happen again. ”
“Fuck right, it won’t,” Killian bites out. “What you did wasn’t just beyond reckless; it was fucking dumb. You’re above this kind of behavior, Lyra. Frankly, an apology is the very least you owe me.”
My head snaps up. Fury tightens all my muscles. “Excuse me? This is the part where you accept my apology and offer forgiveness.” How thick-headed could he possibly be?
“No, it isn’t,” he growls. “It’s the part where I emphasize just what measures I’m taking to try to ensure your safety, and how you try to undermine me at every goddamn step—even when I afford you the privilege of freedom.”
“The privilege?” My voice is rising in pitch.
“Read the constitution, asshole! This is a free country! My god, you have to be one of the dumbest men I ever met. I apologize for actions I took because of a situation you put me in with your obsession, and this is your response? Are you fucking kidding me?”
He suddenly looks bored. “If you’re going to undermine your mediocre apology by bringing up old grievances, then—”
“Go fuck yourself!” I shout. “They aren’t old grievances, they’re goddamn things that I have to live and fight with, every day.
I’m in danger because of you. I’m a captive because it’s what you made me into.
Every bad thing in my life over the last year has originated from you.
And your greatest concern seems to be keeping secrets, knocking me up, and giving me sips of freedom disguised as privileges!
You want a relationship of some sort between us, but you don’t even know what it means.
This is a piss-poor attempt at ownership, not a relationship. ”
Killian squints. “This reactivity is beyond your usual scope.” Before I can tell him to jump off a cliff, he drives the final nail in the coffin. “Are you on your period?”
I gape at him, stunned. “Are you—fucking—kidding—me?” I’ve never felt such an intense urge to tear someone’s head off their shoulders. “That’s the card you want to play?”
“I suppose I should’ve considered this; you haven’t had your cycle since you got here.” He continues on as if I hadn’t spoken. “There are feminine products in the cabinet of the master bathroom—”
My hand whips out before my thoughts can catch up, aiming for his cheek. Unfortunately, Killian’s reflexes are faster than mine, because he catches it without flinching.
“I’ll forgive this in lieu of your current condition, but if you ever try to hit me again, I’ll make sure you don’t sit for a fucking month.”
“I hate you,” I seethe. “I’m not on my period, you imbecile, I’m rightfully pissed at everything you put me through, and your inability to engage in the simplest form of communication; accepting an apology you barely earned with grace.”
I have to get out of here. If this is how bad Killian is at…
well… everything that has to do with a relationship, with his supposed fiancée, then I can’t live like this.
I need to escape him. I need to save myself while I still have the chance.
Before he manages to impregnate me and completely ruin my future.
“I was more than graceful—”
“Stop talking,” I hiss. “In fact, don’t talk to me for the rest of the week. If I have to keep looking at your stupid, infuriating face, I’m going to smash it in—or trash this apartment. Whatever comes first.” I wrench my wrist from his hold, turn, and storm away.