Nila #2
Needle&Thread: V, I’m fine. I’m so sorry I made you worry. I don’t know how much Dad has told you, but I’m alive and doing everything I can to come home. Please know that I love you, and I wouldn’t have gone if I didn’t have reason to.
I pressed send.
A reason like trying to keep you alive.
The melancholy from thinking about my brother threatened to sink my newfound hope. Quickly, I opened the messages I’d been eager to read since my battery died.
Kite007: Had a pretty fantastic daydream about you, Needle. You let me tie you up and spank the living daylights out of you. Tell me...does that make you wet, ‘cause it sure as fuck makes me hard.
The familiar tug in my core was happiness on this bleak day. So much had changed but not this. Not him.
Careful, Nila.
I paused, tracing the keys with worry. Kite was the one constant in this mess. The only one not involved in some way or another. He wasn’t a Hawk. He wasn’t a Weaver. He was neutral territory where I wanted to camp and never leave.
You think he’s not a Hawk.
The sudden thought stopped me, sucking up my oxygen with terror.
What?
My mind skipped back to the luncheon. To the strange connection I’d shared with the brother whose golden eyes weren’t cold or full of malice but playful. My heart raced, recalling the inexplicable kinship we’d shared—no matter how brief.
He looked at me as if he knew me.
Kestrel.
I dropped the phone.
Could it be?
Shaking, I picked up the device and typed a response.
Needle&Thread: I had a similar daydream. You spanked me in the woods with a whip. You kneeled behind me and struck just enough to burn but not bite. I’d never been hit before, but you...you made it seem all right.
Send.
Only, it wasn’t a daydream, and it was with my mortal enemy.
I settled back into the covers, breathing shallowly. I flip-flopped with fear, hope, and anger. If Kite was Kestrel, what did that mean? Why had he been so cruel to me yet considerate in the dining room? Why had he messaged me a month ago?
The text.
It was never a wrong number.
My hands fisted around my phone. Could I have been manipulated?
Angry tears shot up my spine. All my life, everyone I’d ever known had manipulated me behind the scenes, moving me around at their whim, tugging my skirts until I stood in the right place, while I smiled stupidly and so damn na?ve.
I wanted to scream.
You’re making something out of nothing.
It could very well be a wrong number and nothing sinister at all.
My anger was too hot—I couldn’t reason with myself.
Kite007: Fuck, that sounds hot. Did you come?
I stared at the message with fire burning in my soul. I wanted to confront him. I needed to know the truth.
Needle&Thread: Did you come after you licked me yesterday? Did you jerk off to the thought of me being tormented by your family, you sick bastard?
My finger hovered on the send key, my breathing harsh in the silent room.
If I asked and I was right—what then? Where did that leave me? Was it better to play them at their own rules? Hide my tentative conclusion and finally learn how to play this secretive, devious game?
I deleted the message.
Needle&Thread: No, but I made you come. You shot your release so deep down my throat, I can still taste you.
I grinned, feeling a little psychotic.
If Kite was an innocent party in all of this, then he could continue to be my escape. Meanwhile, Jethro would give me answers that I hadn’t had before. Such as granting me knowledge to Kite’s previous question. What do I taste like?
If he tasted anything like Jethro, it was an overpowering mix of no taste at all and too much taste all at once. An oyster mixed with caviar infused with the strongest shot of vodka. Not entirely pleasant, but not disgusting either.
I had experience now. Experience garnered by blowing a man who may or may not be related to my tormentor.
You might have it totally wrong. You’re jumping to conclusions.
I paused, fingers stroking the screen. It was entirely possible I was clutching at straws, looking for connections to make sense of this catastrophe. But I couldn’t ignore the tug inside—the sixth sense burning stronger with every second.
My lips twisted at how disgusting all of this was. How the unsaid lies made me endlessly suspicious.
Kite007: Fuck, do you hear yourself? Something’s changed. Again. I can’t believe I’m asking this, but spill. I need to know how you’ve gone from shy little nun to confident tease.
He wanted to know. As if he didn’t know. As if the entire Hawk family weren’t laughing behind my back.
You don’t know it’s him!
I knew I should calm down, seek out clues, and formulate the truth before tearing into the most-likely innocent Kite. But after being through a transformation from meek to fierce, I couldn’t bottle myself up. I refused to corset my emotions any longer.
I would take back control message by message.
Needle&Thread: You want to know? You want to hear personal details of my life? What happened to you, Kite? Someone drop you on your head?
Kite007: Careful. I’m one push away from deletion and walking away from this. You’re the one who begged me to stay in contact. Remember?
Needle&Thread: You have a short temper.
Kind of like someone else I know.
Kite007: Want me to stay a fucking arsehole? Got it. Don’t ever say I never tried to help you.
My heart lurched.
If he was Kestrel, then he might be my only ally. I couldn’t afford to piss him off—not while I lived in a nest of reptiles. If I could befriend him—make him care—he might be my ticket to freedom.
What better way for a Weaver to escape than for a Hawk to open her cage?
Back in the dining room, Kes had been the only one who’d looked at me with.
..compassion. He’d seen my struggle, and even though he’d treated me the same as all the rest, he’d been chivalrous in a strange, fucked-up way.
Unlike his brother, who’d made me come—who’d stripped me of my rights and privacy and given me a gift I’d never been given before.
Bloody Jethro.
Needle&Thread: I’m sorry. I’ve been through a rather big change in the past few days. My temper is a little short.
Kite007: I’ve noticed. So...you going to tell me how you found a pair of balls?
Needle&Thread: No, I don’t think so. You wanted no personal details...remember?
I sat biting my lip, my fingers poised to cast my first web. How could I phrase a question to make him give away his identity: do you live in the country? Do you ride motorbikes? Did you happen to taste a woman yesterday along with twenty of your gang brothers?
Kite007: Shoot me down, then. See if I care. Enough talking. Let’s get back to a subject we both enjoy. Touch yourself. Tell me how wet you are at the thought of me spanking you. Because you deserve a spanking. A fucking hard one.
Needle&Thread: I don’t believe I’ve been anything but good. I don’t deserve anything of the sort, seeing as you whipped me last night.
Kite007: What’s with the whip fantasy? Why not my hand? I want to feel your skin burn while I punish you. I want equal pain in my palm as you scream and beg for my cock.
I stopped.
My heart switched from burning to frozen. What sort of response was that? Equal pain? Shared pain? Was that what pleasure-pain was all about? Equal measure of obedience and trust?
Kite007: You’ve gone quiet. Fine. You want a whip. I’m hitting you with a whip.
Needle&Thread: No. Actually...I would prefer your hand. I want to feel you touch me. I want to be stroked, caressed by you, all while you do whatever you want to me.
I swallowed the tiny thrill at the thought of Kes spanking me and quickly sent another message before he could reply.
Needle&Thread: Where are we while you hit me? Bedroom? Forest? Countryside? Across your motorcycle?
His response was instant.
Kite007: How the fuck do you know I have a motorcycle?
I threw my phone away as if it had electrocuted me.
I couldn’t breathe.
Oh, God. It had to be. The strange connection. The glint and secretive smirk on Kestrel’s face. Even the two words were similar. They’re both birds of prey.
I’m so stupid!
All this time, I thought Kite stood for the winged paper craft decorated with bows and string, when in reality it was another bird of prey.
Don’t believe it until you can prove it!
My internal dialogue went unheard.
I couldn’t shake the overwhelming knowing.
My world ended again, and the one person who I trusted to be impartial and grant me strength to get through this was the vilest liar of them all.
Kite was Kestrel.
Kestrel was Kite.
He’s a Hawk.