Chapter 23 Kaylor #2
My stomach dropped with sickening speed, unease snaking through my chest as rain began hammering the roof with sudden, violent intensity, thousands of drops striking shingles in chaotic percussion.
I glanced toward the rain-streaked window, pulse immediately kicking up several notches. “He should’ve been back by now.”
Mason’s dark brows pulled together as he crossed the room, plopping down at the end of the bed. “Who are we talking about?”
“Kreed,” I said, already reaching for my phone and checking the time stamp on his last message. “He’s been gone way too long for just a run. Over an hour.”
“Maybe he stopped somewhere to wait out the storm,” Mason stated reasonably.
“Something feels wrong,” I muttered, staring out the rain-distorted window.
Maddox nodded. “Yeah. I know what you mean. There’s a weird vibe tonight.”
“And you don’t think it has to do with us all hanging out in Kreed’s bed?” Mason joked, unable to take anything seriously in his life.
Maddox kicked Mason. “Shut up.”
Another massive lightning flashed, and when it faded, a shadow moved the hallway.
My heart stuttered. Kreed filled the doorway like he’d been summoned by the storm itself, completely soaked through.
Dark hair was plastered flat to his forehead, water streaming down his face in rivulets.
His clothes clung to every contour of his body, and water pooled steadily at his feet, dripping onto the floors, but he didn’t seem to give a shit.
He was leaning heavily against the door frame, one hand braced against the wood, chest rising and falling with uneven, labored breaths.
“Where is she?” he demanded gruffly, and I swore he winced.
I waited for him to notice me on the bed, to lift his head, but a dark patch spreading across the left side of his shirt drew my attention, darker than the rain-soaked fabric.
A chill went through my entire body. “Oh my god.” My voice cracked as I bolted off the bed, laptop sliding forgotten across the comforter.
“You’re hurt. Jesus, Kreed, you’re bleeding. ”
His expression pinched with pain he tried to hide. He lifted his free hand to the side of my face. “You’re safe.”
I was, but he wasn’t.
I touched my fingers over his. They were so damn cold.
Maddox and Mason had crossed the room behind me, flanking Kreed on either side.
“What the hell happened?” Mason barked, sliding an arm immediately under Kreed’s right one to take some of his weight.
“Who the fuck did this?” Maddox demanded simultaneously, his eyes rapidly scanning the blood-soaked fabric across Kreed’s torso as they maneuvered him toward the bed. “Where are they?”
Knowing Maddox, he was ready to tear out of here and hunt down the pricks who laid a hand on one of them.
“I’m okay,” Kreed ground out, jaw so tight the muscle jumped visibly beneath his skin. “He just grazed me.”
I hovered beside them, trying not to freak out or at least not let it show. “You don’t look remotely fine. You look like someone tried to gut you.”
He gave a low, rough chuckle. How he could find anything in this situation amusing was beyond me. “Something considerably smaller than gutting.”
Mason dashed off into the attached bathroom.
“What stabbed you then? A machete? A sword?” My voice pitched higher with each word.
“More like a knife. Standard blade. Maybe paired with a really bad attitude and poor impulse control,” the smartass rattled off.
I wasn’t the only one unimpressed. Maddox shot him a glare. “Did you get a look at him. How many?”
Kreed winced. “Two. Maybe three.”
“Rusty?” Maddox threw out what we were all thinking.
“Yeah, if I had to guess.”
“Take your shirt off,” I instructed, flipping on the overhead lamp for additional light. The side table lamps weren’t enough.
Maddox helped him, lifting the soaking wet material over his head and pulling his arms through. Kreed gritted his jaw, hissing sharply through his teeth when Mason pressed a towel firmly against his side to staunch the bleeding.
“Hold still,” Mason muttered, his hands steady despite the situation, applying pressure as if he’d done this before and probably had. “You’re lucky as hell it’s not deeper. Looks like it mostly caught muscle, maybe grazed a rib.”
I could barely draw breath. There was so much blood. “Oh my god,” I whispered, dropping to my knees beside the bed so I could be at his eye level.
His gaze collided with mine, gray eyes grim as rain continued to drip from his hair, running down his face. “I’m okay, little raven. I’ve had worse.”
If that was supposed to make me feel better, it didn’t.
“You’re going to need at least five or six stitches,” Mason advised. “Maybe more depending on how deep it actually goes.”
“Then do it quick,” Kreed muttered.
“Here, drink this.” Maddox thrust our half-empty bottle of gin at him, the one we’d been casually passing around just minutes ago in a completely different reality. “Take the edge off. I’m going to contact security and tell them to lock this entire place down. No one’s getting inside.”
Kreed didn’t waste breath arguing, just nodded once. His free hand wrapped around the bottle neck, and he tipped it back, throat working as he swallowed several burning mouthfuls without flinching.
“Hold this towel. Keep steady pressure directly on the wound.” Mason’s hands guided mine to replace his, warm fingers wrapping around my cold ones for just a moment before he pulled away. The towel beneath my palms was wet, completely saturated.
“Where are you going?” Panic inked into my voice. Everything was happening too fast, my mind scrambling to keep up while my body reacted on pure instinct.
“To get the medical kit from the office,” he said, already halfway to the door. “Dad keeps the good supplies in the cabinet. Back in thirty seconds.”
The blood kept coming despite my pressure, dark and slick, hot against my fingers, seeping through the towel’s weave no matter how hard I pressed down. Outside, the storm continued its assault on the windows, rain lashing the glass while thunder boomed in furious rhythm.
“Maybe you should lie down,” I suggested softly, afraid he might pass out. Hell, I might. Maybe I should be the one lying down.
Kreed’s lips twitched into not quite a smile. “I’m good.”
He absolutely wasn’t good. His skin had gone pale…too pale. He leaned heavily against the carved bedpost.
All I could think while watching him bleed into white towels while thunder shook the house was that no matter how hard I tried to keep him safe, no matter how many precautions we took, danger always seemed to find him with unerring accuracy.
I imagined that was how he felt about me.
Yet somehow, inevitably, I was always to blame. This had to end. I needed it to be over. Not just for my sanity but for those around me. If these guys who attacked Kreed had done worse, if they had…I didn’t even want to think of the worst case; I would have died alongside him.
My chest constricted until drawing breath became painful labor. “What if this is part of Rusty’s plan?” I whispered, the words barely audible over the storm. “To systematically take you all out one by one? Isolate me?”
“It’s going to take considerably more than a few amateur thugs roughing me up and a flesh wound to take me out, little raven.”
“Now’s really not the time for arrogance,” I said, pressing harder against the wound and trying not to notice how much blood was staining my hands. “You’re not invincible, Corvo. You bleed just like everyone else. Obviously.”
Mason reappeared carrying a small black bag. “Here.” He passed me a brown bottle of disinfectant and a stack of pristine white gauze. “Clean around the wound while I get the needle and thread ready. Don’t pour it directly in yet; wait for my signal.”
Kreed’s glare fixed on his brother. “I told you to watch her, not get in bed with her. Don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Mason’s smirk was absolutely shameless as he threaded the surgical needle. “At least your wits are still functioning. I couldn’t pass up the opportunity when it presented itself. You wouldn’t have either in my position.”
“That’s because she’s my girlfriend,” Kreed growled.
Silence fell so completely that even the thunder outside seemed to hold its breath in shock. Rain continued hammering the windows, but the sound felt distant, muffled.
My heart stopped mid-beat.
Girlfriend?
Was I? Since when?
Had I missed some crucial conversation where that had been established?
A grin split across Mason’s face, and the idiot took the time to actually applaud. “About damn time.”
“Don’t make this into a thing,” Kreed said gruffly.
“Oh, it’s definitely a big deal,” Mason countered, still grinning as he prepared the needle with alcohol. “Kreed Corvo…someone’s boyfriend. Never thought I’d see the day. Pretty soon, I’ll be able to call you sis for real.”
“I said she’s my girlfriend, not my wife.”
“For you, it’s essentially the same thing.” Mason’s expression softened despite the teasing. “You don’t half-ass anything, and you sure as hell don’t do relationships. Or I should say you didn’t.”
Kreed grunted, clearly done with the conversation. “Just hurry up and sew me back together.”
I didn’t know how I should feel. Did I want to be his girlfriend?
Mason worked efficiently, the needle piercing skin and making my stomach roll. Kreed’s hand found mine, squeezing, and I was pretty sure he was offering me more comfort than I was giving.
When Mason finally leaned back, wiping his hands clean on a fresh towel, he examined his work. “You’ll live. I’d tell you not to do anything stupid for at least a week or risk reopening the wound, but I know better.”
“Thanks.” Kreed’s shoulders dropped.
Mason gave a quick nod before gathering his shit, leaving me alone with Kreed.
I just stood there frozen, staring at him, this beautiful, infuriating, impossible boy who kept bleeding for me, completely unsure if I wanted to cry or scream or somehow both simultaneously. And apparently, he was my boyfriend. I should be ecstatic. It was what I wished for, and yet I was scared.
He reached out with his uninjured arm, fingers curling around my wrist and tugging me gently between his knees until I stood bracketed by his thighs.
I was excruciatingly careful, afraid any wrong movement would cause him pain.
I didn’t dare press too close, hyperaware of the white bandage Mason had taped over the wound.
He exhaled against my collarbone, heavy and raw and bone-deep tired, before dropping his forehead to rest against my chest. His breathing filled the quiet space between us, steady but edged with pain he couldn’t quite hide.
My fingers stroked through his wet hair. “How about we get you out of these clothes and into bed?” I’d feel better once he was lying down.
“If you insist,” he muttered, not moving.
“I do. Can you stand for a moment?”
His lips curled as his eyes danced. “Only if you take them off me.” He used the bed to push himself upright onto his feet.
I rolled my eyes. “How are you flirting with me right now?” My fingers went to his waistband, tugging the damp sweatpants past his hips. I crouched, slipping the sneakers from his feet.
He stepped out of the rest of the sweatpants, letting them pool onto the floor. Kreed eased back down onto the bed.
I pulled his socks, tossing them to the ground, and stood.
Now was not the time to admire how perfect every inch of his body was, but my eyes couldn’t help it.
The hard lines of muscles, the patchwork of ink tattooed into his golden skin, muscle carved in lethal lines, the quiet rise and fall of his chest. “It scares me how normal this all is for you.”
“That’s something we should talk about,” he said, voice gentling. “What I said earlier to Mason… you always have the choice to leave. If this becomes too much, I won’t hold you to it. If it isn’t what you want—”
I cut him off with a hard kiss, stealing the rest of his sentence. “I want this. I want you.”
His eyes darkened. “You might change your mind in a year or two,” he murmured, brushing his nose along mine. “And I won’t stop you from walking away from me. Away from this.”
I swallowed hard, nerves fluttering wildly. If we were going to be vulnerable and confess, I had one of my own I needed to unload. “I lied to you,” I whispered.
His head snapped up, searching my face. “What are you talking about? When?”
“The other night. After...” I swallowed hard. “When I told you I didn’t mean it. That the words just slipped out.” My throat tightened, but I forced the confession out anyway. “That was a lie. I meant every word.”
A faint smirk ghosted across his lips as he tugged on a piece of my hair. “I know.”
“And you’re not completely freaked out?”
“I’d be more freaked out if you weren’t.”
Heat rushed to my cheeks. “You’re lucky you’re in pain right now.”
He chuckled, low and softly, and I swear my heart forgot how to beat.
I moved the laptops and notes off the bed, tossing the covers back for him.
Once he was settled, I crawled in beside him.
He immediately wrapped his arms around me despite the fresh stitches, pulling me so close our breaths synced.
“I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to his shoulder. “I can’t do this without you.”
His arms squeezed around me as he rested his chin on top of my head. “You won’t have to. I’m not going to leave you alone. You’ll never be alone again. You don’t just have me. You have a family, little raven.” His hand slid up the back of my neck, fingers twining gently in my hair.
My breath hitched because, for the first time in my life, I believed him.