Chapter Thirteen
In which no dilemma is solved at 2 a.m.
Luna…
Why am I still awake?
It’s not the bed’s fault. The iron four-poster bed draped in blue curtains with an excessive amount of white and blue pillows is the most decadent thing I’ve ever seen. When I sink into the deep goose-down comforter with a little whimper of joy, I swear I hear an angel get its wings.
The nightmare of Morren Island is still in the back of my mind tucked in a box labeled, “You’re going to have to deal with this shit eventually or it’s going to really mess you up.” I try to keep that box closed at all costs.
Tonight, I’m not thinking about the cruel, laughing face of those rich fucks, enjoying the terror and pain they caused others. Nor the fireball that incinerated an entire island.
I’m thinking about Kai. Wally. Demon Mask. He’s so many things, all blurring together into a larger-than-life force of nature.
Why am I here? The entirety of the MacTavish Clan must surely know that I will never breathe a word of what they did. The first reason is obvious: Kai saved me from being raped and trafficked. The second reason? Well, the second breaks down into a multitude of addendums, like, who the hell would believe me? Worse, what if the police thought I had something to do with it?
“Why were you there on the island, Miss Jones?”
“Did you try to do anything as these people were shot and poisoned?”
“If you’re a victim as you claim, then where are the people who did this?”
The man who both saved my life and ended dozens of others is currently downstairs, plowing through his dinner.
How could I possibly explain that the man who chased me in a wolf mask, howling like one, is the same man who killed one of his own to protect me? That I found him to be wildly, terrifyingly beautiful even when I thought he was one of them?
Then there’s the uncomfortable fact that as I was showering tonight, I couldn't stop imagining him naked, soap suds sliding down his broad, tattooed back to his taut ass. A vision so infuriatingly hot that I used my fingers to get off, slapping my hand over my mouth to keep my moans from escaping.
I’m stubbornly clinging to my belief that the orgasm was just very necessary stress relief after everything I’ve been through and that six-foot-five slab of Mafia gorgeousness was just a helpful visual aid.
“Still awake, lass?”
Like an incubus summoned from Hell by my rebellious lower half, Kai appears at my bedside looking all kinds of concerned. Also, he’s wearing nothing but a thin pair of sleeping pants that outlines his cock, which is inappropriately large and now I can’t remember what he just said.
“Uh.” I rub my face, trying to force my scattered brain cells to re-form into a working collection of gray matter. “Everything, I guess. It’s a lot. A phrase that is the understatement of the century for what’s happened in the last forty-eight hours, but…”
“Aye, I can see that.” He’s towering over me, blocking the street light glowing through the window and reinforcing his image as an incubus. After a moment, he notices that I’m edging away, and he pulls over a chair and makes himself comfortable while giving me some space. “It was not exactly just another day at the office for me, either. But I was born in this life. And I was not the one in dire peril. I’m thinking it’s all swirling your head like avocados in a blender?”
“That is such an oddly accurate analogy,” I say.
“I make a smoothie with them most mornings,” he smiles devilishly. “Along with spinach and protein paste.”
“It’s like you just don’t love yourself,” I say. “There must be other breakfast items that would keep your monstrously huge muscles in good shape that don’t taste like pureed rattlesnake.”
Kai’s eyes narrow, and he smiles slightly. “You’ve noticed my muscles, then?”
The air feels different between us then, charged, like just before a thunderstorm.
“Well, of course. You’re built like a grizzly bear but not quite as hairy,” I huff.
Do not look at his crotch. Do not do it.
I look, and I swear he’s getting hard.
With a sigh, he crosses his legs and the moment is gone. “It can hit ya in all kinds o’ ways. Nightmares. Sudden, loud noises spookin’ the hell out of ya. A smell or a certain place can bring ya back to the memories ya try to forget.”
“Are you a psychologist or a gangster?”
“It’s possible to be both. My sister Kenna just got her degree. She spends Sunday dinners psychoanalyzing the hell out of the rest of us.” He gives his half-smile; it’s obvious how proud he is of her.
“It must be nice to have such a big family,” I say, drawing my knees up and wrapping my arms around my legs.
“It’s a feckin’ nightmare,” he says bluntly. “Always shouting and screaming, people in your business and someone always wantin’ something from ya. The noise, it never stops.” His expression softens slightly. “Someone always there to catch ya when ya fall. Even though they’ll give ya shite about it for the rest of your life.”
“Hmm… The first part sounds a little overwhelming. The second part, though, always having someone there? That seems like it would make it worth all the annoying bits.” Resting my chin on my knees, I smile at the thought.
He doesn’t ask if I have any family, and I realize that the instant and uncomfortably comprehensive background check he did on his phone in the gardener’s cottage probably included that I have no one but a chain-smoking aunt who can’t stand the sight of me.
I feel exposed. Defensive and maybe angry.
“When can I leave?”
If he’s offended by my abruptness, he doesn’t show it.
“When do ya want to leave?” Kai asks, “Where do ya want to go?”
“London, and as soon as possible,” I say sharply, “I have to get my life back in order. Get a new passport. I was going to Italy next. Some of the guys at the hostel told me it’s possible to get a job that pays under the table there. Just… keep traveling until my visa runs out.”
I’m being snappish and ungracious, I know. Why does it matter? We’ll never see each other again.
He’s watching me, a huge, silent statue in sweatpants in a chair that’s too small for him. He still exudes power, an uncomfortably raw masculinity that’s bringing back my moment in the shower in technicolor clarity.
“Try to sleep,” he finally says. “We’ll talk tomorrow and get ya sorted.”
“Thank you.” I look down at the - no doubt - 5,000 thread count Egyptian cotton sheet I’m pleating between my fingers. “I haven’t really thanked you for everything you did for me.”
“I scared the shite out of ya,” he rumbles.
“Well, yeah. But I understand you were, uh… undercover? You blew it to save me. For no reason other than you’re a genuinely decent human being. So, thank you. I think your good deed has to cancel out half a dozen terrible things you might have done.”
I can’t read his expression; his face is shadowed, and when he answers me, his tone is as dark as the forest he chased me through. “Ya have no idea what I’ve done, Luna. No idea what I’m capable of. Ya dinna deserve any of it. Helping ya dinna redeem me. If ya knew what I was thinking right now, ya would know it for certain. Try to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Fists clenched; he leaves the room as my “Goodnight…” follows him.
I dream of forests and wolves all night.
“Lass. Ya must wake up. We need to talk.”
My bleary eyes open just enough to see Kai standing over me, dressed, hair still wet from the shower.
“Why? What’s going on?” His expression is grim, and suddenly, I don’t want to know. I want to fall back to sleep on these heavenly sheets and pretend nothing bad ever happened.
“We’ve got a problem.”