13. Love is a Controlled Substance
Love is a Controlled Substance
I wake from a dreamless sleep. Dazed. Confused.
I would have jumped out of bed if my body allowed it, instead I roll out from beneath the covers and luckily hit the ground feet first. My ass cheek hurts. I pull my underwear to the side and reveal a small, circular discoloration.
“Well, at least he brought me home after drugging me.” I sigh. I’m not as irritated as I should be. Guess I’m coming to terms with how fucked up my soulmate is.
And the fact that I’m still drawn to him like a moth to a light.
Guess that says a lot about me.
I stretch and twist the stiffness from my muscles. Other than feeling like I slept like the dead, I’m mostly fine. Maybe slightly better than fine.
On the inside I can feel a low simmering energy pulse, a quiet intensity building. It’s been so long since I woke up feeling refreshed and ready to go. The feeling of energy and lightness throughout my whole body is more than a little strange.
What the fuck did he inject me with?
I could go to the labs and have my blood analyzed and figure it out. That would mean asking Vicky for another favor. After the last one, I’m sure she would get a sense that something is going on.
I don’t need anyone asking those types of questions. On the plus side, I feel fucking good.
It’s a quick trip to my window and I pull the curtain to the side, somehow, not exactly surprised to see the cruiser out front. If I didn’t know better, I would think I dreamed of the encounter with Ghost.
The sound of Rex’s whimper from the other side of my bedroom door catches my attention.
Some guard dog he is.
“I’ll get you breakfast. Just give me a minute to put pants on.”
I head to the dresser and grab a pair of sweatpants. As I slip the comfortable material over my legs, I notice black letters on the inside of my thigh.
Did kitty have fun last night?
A smile pokes at the edges of my lips, but I purposely roll my eyes.
I’ll let him sit and wait for a response this time.
Thoughts from last night filter through my mind.
My body moves through the motions of opening the bedroom door, ignoring Rex’s inquisitive sniffs, and heading to his bowl, but my mind is set on the abandoned farmhouse.
Last night was emotional, but it was everything I didn’t know I needed. I needed the fight. The struggle. To let go of some of the pent-up anger that has followed me like a storm since I was a teenager.
And he understood it.
He didn’t judge me for needing a slice of pain served with intimacy. Of course, the very reason I need that pain is his fault. If he had answered me back when I was a teenager, I wouldn’t have any of the problems that I have today.
There’s no knowing who I could have become.
Part of me has always resented that unknown future. The one that he robbed me of. Then again, I never would have become a police officer or had the fast-paced life I love. I certainly wouldn’t have met Cathy, James, Tommy, or the others, for that matter.
Cathy’s laughing, smiling face comes to the front of my mind. My heart squeezes.
I miss my best friend. If she were here, we would already know who Ghost is. She likely would have strung him up by his balls for all the shit he’s put me through, but she would also understand the love I feel despite everything.
Wait…
No.
No, no, no, no, no.
No.
He must have injected me with some crazy serum that is entirely fucking with my mind. I do not love him. I don’t know anything about him. He won’t even tell me his name. I have not seen his face. He kills people, for fuck’s sake.
Fucking soulmate shit.
I start the coffeepot and have nothing better to do than stand and watch it brew. The house is silent other than the sound of Rex’s slow bites.
Now I see why Cathy was always complaining about those damn pictures she couldn’t bring herself to throw away.
All rational thinking flies out the window when it comes to your soulmate.
My parents’ inability to love me more than each other finally made sense.
It wasn’t their fault; it was just the way soulmates work.
Peace washes over me, evaporating years of frustration in an instant as I finally understand what every mated person has been trying to tell me from the start.
The coffee pot beeps, making me jump. There’s nothing quite like figuring out the answers to your own existential crisis first thing in the morning. I pour myself a cup and add enough cream to make it a reasonable drinking temperature.
The first sip tastes heavenly.
“Come the fuck on. Things shouldn’t taste better just because I found my soulmate,” I groan, but there’s no mistaking the difference as I take another sip. It abso-fucking-lutely tastes better.
It’s like the world has exploded into vibrant color, a kaleidoscope of previously unseen hues.
How the fuck could someone properly describe this to someone who has never experienced it? It’s like trying to describe one of the senses. Words just can’t encompass the sensations, the world changing effects.
I thought I understood what love could be, but I didn’t know shit.
I take my cup with me into my room, not sure what to do with myself. Everything inside me feels different, but everything outside of me is still the same. And what’s worse, there isn’t anyone I can talk to about it. Other than Ghost, of course.
Except that doesn’t help when he’s the topic I need to discuss.
For the first time in my life, I wish my parents hadn’t transferred to another city the moment they were free of me. I could use the guidance they didn’t give me as a teenager. They practically ran toward the chance for a transfer and never looked back. I don’t even have their phone number.
I look through the contacts on my phone. It’s filled with names of other mateless. Tommy and James had never gotten a message from their soulmates. Captain had only written to his soulmate for a few years before she died of some illness before they got to meet in person.
Killian.
My stomach does a flip while my finger slides the screen to bring up his name. Killian lived with his soulmate, at least for a little while before she killed herself. Out of anyone I knew, he could understand the feelings I couldn’t express.
But could I trust him?
If I told Killian about my soulmate, not only could I lose my job, my house, and possibly end up in a cell for the crimes Ghost committed. Not worth the risk. Killian might still help me without needing to know that I have found my soulmate.
Partners get to know each other, right?
I press his name, and the line rings twice before Killian answers.
“Kira? Is everything alright?” His tone is thick and a quick glance at the clock tells me it’s likely because he was sleeping.
“Yeah, yeah. Sorry to call so early.” A nervous flutter dances in my stomach while I debate whether to hang up, the phone feels heavy in my hand. “I just, umm, thought we could hang out sometime. Outside of work.”
This was so much easier with Cathy.
“Umm.” I can hear movements on his end of the line. He’s likely getting out of bed and putting some clothes on while trying to make sense of my random request. “Yeah. Sure. Did you have anything particular in mind?”
“No.” My tone feels too high pitched. “No,” I correct. “You could come over here and we could get to know each other.”
I want to backtrack the moment the words leave my lips.
What if Ghost sees Killian and gets the wrong impression? I mean, he said he wouldn’t kill anyone unless I wrote their name, but I don’t exactly want to put that to the test with my partner.
“Sure. I don’t have anything going on today. I could be over in a few hours,” Killian says, interrupting my internal argument.
“Actually, on second thought. Could I come over to your place?” A nervous nibble at my lip accompanies a moment of tense anticipation while I wait for his answer.
“Umm,” Killian says, drawing the word out as if he needs more time. “Sure. Yeah, you can come over.”
“Great.” I force enthusiasm. “Just text me your address and I’ll be over.”
“Did you want to come over right now?”
“Oh! No. Not now. You can wake up and clean up or whatever you want or need to do in the morning.” If only the embarrassment running through me could bury me. I needed to get my shit together and act fucking normal. “Just text me when you’re ready for me. I have nothing going on today.”
“Hey, princess, you sure everything is alright? You don’t sound yourself.”
I sigh. Of course I don’t sound like the old me. I’m not even sure who I am anymore. “Everything’s fine. I just got up too early and hit the coffeepot hard.”
Killian chuckles, the sound floating through the speaker of my phone and helping to calm some of my nerves. “Why don’t you take a run around the block? I’ll get around and send you my address.”
“I’m sure Rex will love a run.”
Silence stretches, neither of us seeming to know how best to end the call.
“I’ll see you in a bit, princess.”
“Bye,” I say quickly before ending the call. That exchange should not have been so difficult.
Maybe I really should take Rex on a run around the block before I go over to Killian’s. Just to get my head screwed back on straight. I need to remember who I am, or at least who I was, before someone ends up figuring out my secret.
“You could have brought Rex. I have a fenced-in yard,” Killian says as I take a seat on his couch.
“He was tired after the run.”
Killian isn’t wearing his sunglasses, and the sight of his empty socket is hard to miss.
I’ve gotten used to looking at my reflection while talking to him.
Part of me is glad that he feels comfortable enough around me to not need the glasses.
I force my gaze to the walls, trying not to come across as rude.
His house is laid out the same as mine, down to the color of paint on the walls. The door to his bedroom is shut. Has he even bothered to personalize that space?