34. Just In Case…
34
JUST IN CASE…
GHOST
Fuck, they’re dumb. I’ve been following Krypt and Riot since they left Willow Olenna with the information I wanted. And now I’m going to beat them to Janie’s Woods and claim Yates for myself, earning my position at the head of the rank line.
Where I fucking belong.
Director never said how we had to find Yates, and while I don’t like cheating, I don’t consider this duplicitous. I have a fucking skill, and being a ghost is it. Like hell I’m not going to use that skill whenever it benefits me. I’m not as dumb as they are.
But we’re all getting fucked over tonight. Because Lockan Tate is already here, and he’s rabid.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Ghost?” he shouts with Yates in a chokehold while two other Misfits restrain Tom on the ground of Janie’s Woods. Discarded weapons litter the forest floor, and Yates’ mouth is duct-taped. “You know he’s mine! After everything I put up with from him and all the shit he did to my crew, you think I’m gonna let you take him? Fuck off.”
I can’t say I blame him for feeling betrayed. We had a deal, and Yates was his to handle. Silently, I close the distance between us, making sure his crew members keep their hands where I can see them. We’re allied, but there’s still a traitor in his crew, and since we don’t know who it is, I don’t trust any of them.
“Where's Wentworth?”
He looks confused. “Not here.”
I scan the forest, wondering if those two lied to Krypt and Riot or if Wentworth already fled.
“Don’t fucking fight me on this. You know I deserve to punish him.” Lock throws Yates to the ground while he spits and gags, trying to speak through the cloth gag under the tape.
I do know he deserves this. He made Moros a promise to punish Yates and march anyone found helping him down Death Row for the town to see. I’ve been in The Misfits’ madness for years with Lock, so I see myself entitled to Yates’ downfall, too. Plus, I want top spot in rank.
“I’m helping you.”
“No.”
“Lockan.”
Lock steps over Yates and butts his firm chest to mine. He knows who I am under this mask and what I’m capable of. I respect him more for challenging me. “My crew needs this more than you do. You have Vile House. We’re still pulling ourselves together.”
Softly, so his two men don’t hear, I say, “I put up with him, too.”
“While always having Vile House at your back. We didn’t have anyone at our backs.” He fists his hand in the front of my jacket, tugging me forward so he can speak in my ear. “He’s fucking mine, Sauder. I might act calm, but I’ve got years of rage built up and I need somewhere to fucking aim it.”
“Hands off what’s mine or I’ll cut ‘em off and force ‘em up your ass, Tate.”
I close my eyes behind my mask, unsure if I’m pissed at his protectiveness or if I’m even more pissed that it’s possessiveness. His voice is calm, but it’s that threatening kind of calm that comes before something unleashes. Lock must sense it because he drops my jacket and faces Killian.
“Riot,” he greets through clenched teeth.
“Pleasure,” Riot greets him back, nodding at how close he’s standing to me. When Lock takes a single step back but otherwise does nothing to submit, Riot laughs. “You’d make a good Vile Boy.”
“Even better Misfit. I’m taking Yates and Tom whether I gotta fight you for them or not.” He squares up to both of us while Killian’s hand touches mine, teasing a grip that has no fucking right to be appealing at a time like this. “What’s it going to be?”
“What do ya think, sweetheart?” he asks me.
I smack his hand away and shove him off. “What’re you going to do with him?” I ask Lock.
“Whatever the fuck I want, but he won’t get off easy.”
“Promise?” Riot asks.
“Promise,” Lock agrees, nodding.
I tilt my head to let them go, unsure why I’m allowing it. Yeah, I get that Lock deserves this, and I even get that it’s his crew’s business, not ours, but I’m not someone who passes up opportunities to climb ladders. Yates gets me top rank, and as I watch Lock and his guys drag them out of the woods, I see my second-to-last spot become my reality for a lot longer.
I don’t know what to think, so I take a silent step to leave this place, but Killian’s fingers tighten around my wrist.
“Not a chance, sweetheart. No slipping into shadows tonight.”
Am I letting him pull me back or am I playing a game? “Where’s Krypt?”
“Gone. Looking for Wentworth. Everyone else will be stalking Lock now. Just you and me taking a walk down memory lane.” He wraps his arm around my shoulders and turns me to face the pond. “Remember the night we made our first deal? I drowned you and you blinked.”
“I got a brush with death and blinked to drag you down with me.”
“It’s like we’re listening to the same song and hearing different lyrics,” he muses.
“Same lyrics. Different meanings.” I like the way his arm feels around me, so I pretend not to notice it there. “What song are we listening to now?”
“You could play us one,” he suggests.
“We could play one together.”
Killian goes tense. Music makes him uncomfortable because he doesn’t know what his sounds mean. He can’t manipulate, interpret, or influence it, so he steers clear of it because it’s a better opponent than he is. It bests him every damn time, and he’s sick of losing to it.
I pull him deeper into the woods, almost within sight of The Harpy’s cabin, and then I push my mask up. He doesn’t, so I do it for him. “What’re you scared of?”
“Nothing.”
“Killian.”
He scoffs, shoving at my chest. “The fuck is this? We don’t talk. Not like this.”
“We talked the other night.”
“Yeah, about bullshit… your bullshit.”
“Oh, so my bullshit is fair game, but yours isn’t?” I grab his hip and force him to stop pacing. “You don’t have anyone else you can talk to, so talk to me.”
“Fuck you. I have my brother.”
My turn to scoff. “Yeah? Like you’d ever willingly show weakness around him? Yeah, right. You have yourself built up as his hero because you feel like you failed him early on.”
He punches me. Right in the gut. I buckle over, eyes watering, wind knocked out of me, eyes staring at the grassy forest floor.
“I did fail!” Killian seethes at me. “It’s the last time I ever let myself fail, so fuck you for bringing it up. Like you’ve never failed.”
“I failed two brothers and a dad already,” I shout at him, standing upright despite the pain. “You think I’m too full of myself to know that?”
“Yeah, I did, actually.”
We stare, unstable because we’re supposed to be mad, but it’s taking too much energy to stay that way. Embarrassment kills me, and failing my brothers is one of my greatest catastrophes. I’ve never said it aloud until tonight, and with Killian as the only one who heard it, I feel safe while insecure. Trapped in the truth but allied with him because he admitted fault, too. I failed my brothers, and that’s my reality. But instead of it feeling terrible because I lost them, it feels terrible because I wasn’t strong enough to save them. Failure is failure, and…
“I almost failed you,” I whisper against the wind, hoping it carries that confession away. Straightening, I don’t look at him until he breathes loudly. His eyes are soft but surprised, full of questions he doesn’t want to ask.
“In Reaper City?”
“Yeah.” I look away, trying to see the moon through the leaves.
“Soren.” He grips my chin and turns me to face him. “You didn’t fail me. I did that.”
He told me he needed me to get out, but I’ve never asked why, and I don’t know if I’m ready for the answer.
He answers anyway. “Just in case,” he says. “Just in case you died trying to save me. Just in case it was your only chance to get out. Just in case it was the last thing you ever saw me do. Just in case.”
Just in case…
The meaning of those three words pounds in my chest, and Killian grabs his like he can feel my heart pounding there. Our eye contact is as sketchy as it always is, but there’s a new defiance to it. Something strong and feeble, like it’s willing to be there if we let it. It’s a connection, and I’m so goddamn desperate to latch onto it that I force myself to blink so that I don’t. But blinking doesn’t wash it away like it usually does.
Just in case…
What the fuck does it mean?
I know what it means…
Killian’s hand drops from my chin to the side of my neck, fingers brushing my nape and his thumb playing with my jawline. His touch is so tender that I close my eyes to feel it. It’s better than holding his hand, and it’s more than when he held that girl’s hand. It’s a touch full of desire but mingled with feelings, and holy fuck, there are feelings here. Real ones. Harsh ones. Ones we don’t want but can’t deny. Because somewhere along the way he became my tormentor, turned into my safe space, and started glueing my foundation back together so my puzzle pieces have something to sit on.
When I open my eyes, Killian licks his lips, dampening them enticingly. Yet the rush of desire that washes through me isn’t all heat and passion. It’s comfort and conflict, a chance to shift our dynamic, and the realization that ‘just in case’ means something to me, too.
I meet his grey eyes, watching them swirl with the same confusing clarity I’m feeling. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It happened, didn’t it?” he asks.
“What?” I narrow my eyes on him.
“This. We became a thing.”
“We’re not a fucking thing.” But I don’t pull back, and I think I might crumble if he takes his hand away. “We’re just…”
“… in case? Just in fucking case, Soren.” He leans in, lips brushing mine in his usual ‘just in case’ kiss. But I’m the one who doesn’t allow it to be chaste. Not this time. Because we’re alone in Janie’s Woods where this whole thing started, and now he’s mine.
My hand sinks into his hair, simply feeling the wavy strands between my fingers. When he drops his hand to my hip, pulling me closer, our kiss deepens differently. Lips together but mouths closed, never parting. And I’m changing…
Because it fucking hurts to kiss him like this. He’s breaking through all my jagged bits, dissolving my glue, rearranging me in a way that suits my needs, not his. It’s so selfless that I want to be more selfless, so I push my body against his, weave my other hand into his hair, and kiss him like I’m telling him what ‘just in case’ means to me.
He groans against my lips, body hard against mine, opening his mouth to take everything that I willingly give. Confessions, once again, without words spoken, but it fits us. And it’s even better that tonight, two attention-seekers confess their feelings with no attention on them. No people, no birds, not even the moon can see us under all these leaves. We’re alone. Real. Honest.
For once.
My tongue meets his in a way that isn’t frantic—curious, instead. His breath fans against my wet lips, warming me, and his palms lay flat on my lower back, holding me against him without forcing me to be here. Lightly, I graze my teeth over his bottom lip and feel his smile tug into place, forcing me to smile, too. Simply breathing, our foreheads roll together, and his arms tighten around my back.
… My hands drop from his hair to wrap my arms around his neck, temples together. In a hug.
It’s weird. So fucking weird I don’t know how to end it. I don’t know how to make it last forever. I don’t know what to do other than to fight how much I enjoy it. Our chests are pressing together, transferring heartbeats and sharing breaths, and I look into the forest to see if anyone is looking back to spy on this glass moment.
“I am afraid,” Killian says softly, holding me tighter to make sure I can’t pull back to look at him. “I’m afraid of music because it’s speaking a language I can’t understand anymore. I lost the ability to interpret my own music when I layered on too many masks. I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. You were right about that.”
A snide comment wants to come out of my mouth. I swallow it. “Because you don’t trust anyone enough to look at you without them on.”
“No,” he agrees. “Who the hell would even wanna?—”
“Me, you dick. How many times have I told you to drop the masks?”
Again, I feel his lips pull into a smile against my cheek. “I just made you mine, sweetheart. Can’t be chasing you off so soon.”
I scoff.
I don’t deny that I’m his.
“Trust me, asshole. You are the thing I fear least in this world. Masks or not, you’re softer than I thought you were.”
His fingertips dig into my back as a playful threat, and his dark hair brushes my temple when he laughs. “Balance then, yeah? We still chasing a curse on the weekends and being all ‘just in case’ on business days?”
“That’s not balance,” I say. “Death games on weekdays and ‘just in case’ on weekends. I can’t handle you soft all the time.”
He laughs again, releasing me just enough to bring his face in front of mine. “New deal, Sauder. We end your family curse and learn to play music together instead. What do ya say?”
“No masks?”
“I’ll… try. If you admit you’re afraid of the curse.”
The moment almost shatters because he’s fucking half-right and I don’t want him to be. I scowl at him, and he huffs out a laugh, brushing his thumb between my brows to smooth it away.
“Admit it, sweetheart. I won’t judge.”
“Yes, you will.” I shake my head at him. “I’m not afraid of the curse, okay?”
“Then what?”
I purse my lips together, but he just admitted to being afraid of his music, so… “Fuck, I’m afraid of being like them! My family.”
Killian barks out a laugh, and this time, I sucker punch him in the gut, shoving him away. He buckles over, but he doesn’t stop laughing. I don’t know why I’m fighting a smile.
“Are you shitting me?” he barks with amusement. “Soren Fucking Sauder just has to be superior to his own family members? Oh, god. I should have known. It’s so you.”
I can’t help it. I laugh with him. Because it is me. But it’s Killian, too, and if our roles were reversed, he’d feel the same way. He’s afraid to admit he fucked up with his brother and now his biggest fear is letting Krypt down again, and mine is being just as fragile as the rest of my family who fell prey to the curse. We’re a mess of god complexes and insecurities that create superiority issues, but fuck it. We can’t change who we are, and tonight, it’s funny instead of embarrassing.
“Fuck you.” I laugh with him. “I am superior to them! I bet my brain scan proves it.”
“All hail King Soren, reigning supreme of the Sauder line!” He bows to me like a complete idiot.
But I like being bowed to, so I’m still smiling. “You’re such a loser.” I grab his hand and stand him up, letting our fingers twine all on their own. “Music lessons and staying superior to my family. That’s our new deal. Death chasing every other day of the week, yeah?”
When he answers, it comes smiling against my lips. “Yeah, sweetheart.”
I grin, kissing him back. “But tone it down on the soft shit, yeah? I’m fucking sick of it. And never kiss me in front of the Vile Boys again, you dick.”
When he laughs again, I slip out of his hold and into Janie’s Woods. This time, I let him catch me.