Chapter 24 Kaylor #2
His smile widened fractionally, a contract signed in expression. “Smart girl. You have your father’s grit, his backbone. You’ll have your proof, and when it’s over, your new path will be set and waiting.”
I stepped out into the hallway, leaving the study door open as I dashed back upstairs. I didn’t go to Kreed’s room. Not yet. I needed a few minutes alone.
My knees buckled as soon as I was safely behind my closed bedroom door, and with my next shaking inhale, the hot tears came, streaming down my cheeks.
How fucking unfair was it that as soon as I got a semblance of my life back, Donovan wanted to strip it away from me? I was sick of men ruling my life. It felt like giving away a piece of myself I didn’t know how to survive without, like amputating my own heart.
But I’d chosen. I’d chosen Kreed over myself.
Because I loved him, and there wasn’t anything I wouldn’t do for the people I loved, even if it hurt them. Even if it broke them? Broke me?
A blanket of darkness enveloped me, pressing against my skin until breathing became a conscious effort.
I sat perched on the bed and brushed at my cheek.
Most of the tears had dried, leaving their saltiness on my skin.
My fingers shook slightly as I reached for my phone on the nightstand, betraying the fragile control I was barely maintaining.
The screen glowed through the gloom when I thumbed it awake, blue-white light harsh against my adjusted eyes.
I unplugged it carefully from the charging cable and watched the battery indicator blink at the top.
One hundred percent. Fully charged. Bright and ready and completely useless against the hollow feeling spreading through my chest.
Kreed slept deeply across the hall where I’d left him. I scrolled through my recent calls and pressed the familiar number. A voice answered on the third ring, low and flat and carefully neutral.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I replied, barely a whisper, doing my best to keep the emotion churning inside from my voice. I didn’t want anyone to hear, and God knew this house had ears. “We need to move up the timeline. Accelerate everything.”
“Why? What’s happened? Did something go wrong?” he asked.
“He’s closing in on us.” The words fell out sharp as glass shards, each one cutting on the way up.
“Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea? Moving this fast?” His concern was palpable. It wasn’t just me I had to think about. “We haven’t had time to prepare properly.”
“No,” I admitted because I desperately needed a slice of honesty to keep myself buoyed above the fear threatening to drown me. “But I need this nightmare to be over. I can’t keep living like this, waiting for him to strike.”
“So do I,” he said quietly. “But it feels like there are too many moving pieces right now. Too many players we can’t control. Too many variables that could go catastrophically wrong.”
“I know,” I agreed, breath shuddering. “Just stick to what we discussed. Don’t deviate. Don’t improvise. The plan works if we follow it exactly.”
“What about Kreed?”
My eyes lifted instinctively to the door again, heart fluttering hard and uneven. “Keeping him alive is what’s important.”
“To you,” he said pointedly.
“You promised.”
A long sigh came through the other end. “I know. I’m working on it. But you know that you can’t protect everyone all the time.”
“I’m going to do my absolute damnedest. Does he suspect anything?”
“No, I don’t think so. And you?”
“Same, but truthfully, it’s hard to be sure with them. They always seem to know more than they should. I need to go,” I whispered. “Before someone hears me.”
“Be careful. Please.” The plea was soft but fierce.
“You too.” I ended the call, the screen going dark and leaving me in shadow again.
For a long moment, I just sat there, phone clutched in both hands, staring at nothing.
Then I carefully plugged it back into the charger, arranged the blankets to look undisturbed, and crept across the hall to where Kreed slept.
I forced myself to unclench, taking a deep breath, but that damn pesky knot of tension remained in my stomach.
I listened to rain skitter across the roof again, fat drops hitting shingles in irregular percussion as I tiptoed across the floor.
I moved to my side of the bed, noticing Kreed had shifted slightly in my absence, one arm thrown across the pillow where my head had been, searching for me even in sleep.
The bandage on his side was still clean, no fresh bleeding.
I slipped back under the covers as quietly as possible, fitting myself carefully against his uninjured side. His arm came around me automatically, pulling me close. The gesture was so instinctive, so protective, it made my throat tight all over again.
“Where did you go?” he huskily murmured thick with sleep.
“Bathroom,” I replied, hating the lie regardless of how small. A lie was a lie. “Sorry I woke you.”
He nuzzled deeper into my hair, inhaling the scent of me. “I’m glad you did.”
God, he is going to ruin me. “Are you in pain?” I asked, hyperaware of his injury.
He tensed for half a second, then melted back into me. “I wouldn’t be,” he rasped, “if you were kissing me.”
A breathy laugh escaped me. “Smooth, Corvo. But I’m not sure what you have in mind is good for your stitches.”
“Mason can just stitch me up again.” His fingers tightened at my waist, tugging me flush. “It would be worth it, little raven.”
“You’re impossible,” I murmured, my lips grazing his as I spoke. His breath caught, the subtle hitch betraying just how awake he suddenly was. “Just a kiss,” I promised softly. I leaned in, brushing my mouth over his, but the moment our lips touched, we both knew just a kiss was a lie.
One kiss was never enough.
Not with him.
Not anymore.
His mouth claimed mine again, deeper and hungrier, before I even finished drawing breath.
And I let him.