22. Kaylor
22
KAYLOR
A quietness entered the bathroom with me, the muffled sounds of the casino barely audible through the heavy door. I leaned against the sink, letting out a shaky breath. The alcohol was starting to settle in, warming my veins and dulling the frayed edges of the day, but the unease clung to me like smoke.
My hands trembled slightly as I gripped the sink, my reflection staring back—flushed cheeks, tired eyes, and that ever-present shadow lurking behind them. I splashed cold water onto my face, inhaling sharply as the icy chill cut through the haze. My pulse slowed. My muscles relaxed. But as I reached for a paper towel, something moved in the mirror.
A shadow.
The breath in my lungs froze.
Before I could turn, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth, crushing the scream before it could escape as I stared into a familiar sight. For a second, I hoped this was another of my nightmares and I’d wake up in my bed, terror pumping through my veins at the image of the two masked men who never left me.
This time…there was only one.
I thrashed, my fingers clawing at the vise-like grip. My skull pounded with terror as I stared into a familiar horror—a masked man. My mind fractured, hurtling me back to that night, to the screams, to the blood?—
No. No. Not again.
“Don't scream,” he growled against my ear, his voice low and rough. “Or this gets ugly.”
Ice shot through my veins. This wasn’t a dream. A nightmare, yes, but very fucking real. I twisted, trying to break free, but the man’s grip was ironclad.
He wrenched me back, his arm locking around my waist, his strength overwhelming. My boots scraped against the tile as he dragged me toward the door.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think.
Then instinct kicked in.
I twisted, sinking my teeth into his hand—hard, desperate—until my jaw ached. The leather absorbed most of the damage, but I felt him flinch. A small victory. Not enough. His grip tightened hard, and I was sure it would leave a bruise.
“You little bitch?—”
I threw my elbow back, aiming for his ribs. Missed.
He shoved me forward, his breath ragged, his patience snapping. “Stop struggling,” he hissed, his breath hot against my ear. “I don’t want to make a mess, but I will if you make me.”
What kind of mess?
A bloody mess?
My blood?
My vision blurred as we neared the exit. A metal door loomed ahead, slightly ajar, cold air licking at my skin.
No. No, no, no, no.
The panic in my chest turned into fury.
I didn’t listen. Adrenaline surged as I bit down hard on his gloved fingers, but he barely flinched, the thick material absorbing most of the pain. My jaw ached from the effort, and frustration mounted as he tightened his hold, his other arm snaking around my waist to drag me toward the door.
The flickering light above cast eerie shadows on the walls as he pulled me through the door, his pace quick and purposeful. I struggled harder, clawing at his arm, but he only growled, his grip bruising.
We reached the back exit, the cold metal door just feet away. Panic clawed at me, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. I slammed my foot into his shin, my body twisting like hellfire, but he barely stumbled. My scream came out muffled against his palm.
“Where the fuck do you think you're going?” The voice cut through the chaos like a blade.
The man’s body locked up.
So did mine.
That voice—dark, lethal, too calm for what was about to happen.
Kreed.
I twisted just enough to see him, standing at the end of the hallway, his body coiled tight like a predator about to strike. His dark eyes were murderous, locked on to my captor like he was already deciding where to bury the body.
And then I saw it.
The gun.
Holy. Shit.
Casually held. Like it belonged in his hand. Like he’d done this before. I’d never even seen one in person.
“This doesn't concern you,” my captor hissed.
Kreed cocked his head slightly, his lips curling into something cold. “See, that’s where you fucked up. Because she”—his voice dropped lower—“belongs to me. And despite the amount of trouble she causes, I want her back.”
The words sent a different kind of shiver through me.
My captor hesitated.
Kreed took a slow, measured step forward, the gun never wavering. “You let her go, and maybe—maybe—you get to walk out of here.”
Was that me? Was I what whoever they were wanted?
The man’s grip on me tightened. “You don’t know who you're messing with,” he spat. “They won’t stop until they get what they want.”
Kreed smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “You think I give a fuck?” The gun didn’t so much as tremble in his grip.
“Last chance,” Kreed warned. “Let. Her. Go.”
The man’s grip on me tightened again, his confidence returning. “And if I don’t?”
“Try me and find out,” Kreed growled, the gun pointed directly at him or me. It was difficult for me to say for sure who Kreed aimed at, but there was no mistaking the seriousness of his expression and the twitch just above his scar.
I could feel the shift, the tension snapping like a live wire. My captor made a decision.
And he chose wrong.
He shoved me—hard. I slammed into the wall, pain exploding through my shoulder as I hit the rough surface. Pain flared, but my eyes stayed locked on Kreed.
He moved.
Fast.
A blur of fists, violence, and pure, unforgiving rage.
The first punch cracked against my captor’s ribs with a sickening thud. The second sent blood spraying against the wall. Kreed was a storm, hitting with brutal precision, not giving the man time to recover, his punches precise and relentless.
The guy swung, a wild, desperate move, but Kreed dodged, driving his fist into his gut, then hooking an uppercut into his jaw.
A sickening crunch.
The man sagged, but Kreed wasn’t done.
“You said you’d let me go,” the guy choked, blood dribbling from his split lip.
Kreed’s expression darkened, something unholy and unmerciful flickering in his gaze. “I lied.” He swung the gun hard, cracking it against the guy’s temple.
The man crumpled, his mask askew.
Silence.
His breath came in ragged gasps as Kreed turned to me, his chest rising and falling, his fists still clenched. “You okay?” he asked more softly now.
I wasn’t sure, but I nodded. “Yeah… I think so.”
He tucked the gun away, grabbed my hand, and pulled me to my feet. “Happy hour’s over, little raven. We need to go.”
“Wait.” My voice trembled, and I turned back to the unconscious man, my pulse hammering as I crouched down, fingers shaking as I grabbed the edge of his mask. I pulled it off, revealing his face beneath, and blinked, my stomach sinking.
His features were unfamiliar, his face rough and weathered with a scar cutting across his cheek. He could’ve been anyone—a nobody, a stranger. I wasn’t sure what I expected to see or find. A clue. Recognition. Something that made sense. But I stared into the face of a stranger, and the knot of hope I hadn’t even realized I was holding unraveled.
Kreed crouched beside me. “Do you know him?”
I shook my head. “No,” I whispered. Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. “I don’t even know if he’s one of them,” I admitted, my voice cracking.
“One of who?” Kreed asked, his tone quieter now, more cautious.
I swallowed hard, gripping the mask in my hand like it could anchor me. “The men who…who killed my parents.”
Kreed didn’t respond right away. When he did, there was an edge to him, like he was trying to keep something buried. “I shouldn’t have brought you here. It was foolish of me to think you’d be safe. We need to go. If he isn’t alone… One I can handle by myself, but without Mason and Maddox, it could get dangerous, and I’m not taking that chance.”
“How could you possibly know he would show up?” I said, my frustration bubbling to the surface. “This isn’t your fault.” How easy it would be to blame Kreed especially with the clusterfuck of emotions combating in me. I needed somewhere, someone, or somehow to unleash them before they destroyed me.
Kreed’s jaw tightened. “We need to go. If he wasn’t alone, we don’t have time to sit here playing detective.”
I looked up at Kreed, his dark eyes locked on mine, something unreadable flickering in them. He didn’t say anything, just stood and held out a hand to help me up.
I exhaled shakily, standing.
For a second, I hesitated, staring at his outstretched hand. My mind was a whirlwind of questions, doubts, and fear, but beneath it all, there was a stubborn resolve. Whatever this was, whoever this man worked for, I wasn’t going to stop until I had answers.
Finally, I took Kreed’s hand, letting him pull me to my feet. The mask dangled from my fingers, a cruel reminder of everything I still didn’t know, but perhaps I was one step closer.
As we passed by the bar, Kreed caught the bartender’s eye. “Get Jimmy. We need a cleanup in the hallway.”
“How bad?” she asked.
“Just some trash that needs to be taken out.” His grip was solid. A silent promise that I was still here, still breathing.
My legs were unsteady as we stepped into the blistering late afternoon, but Kreed’s presence at my side grounded me. I didn’t want to think about what might have happened if he hadn’t shown up. Where I might be? Where my attacker would have taken me? If I’d still be alive and able to draw in the crisp air as I did now.
Whoever killed my parents wasn’t going to let me live. And something told me this was far from over. How many more attempts would there be? Odds were that, eventually, my luck would run out.
Kreed wouldn’t always be there to save me.
Sleep eluded me, which wasn’t a surprise. Not after what happened.
The attack. The mask. The adrenaline-pumping fear that hit all the wrong triggers—memories I didn’t want, ghosts I longed to bury.
I tossed and turned, flipping my pillow over and adjusting the blankets, but nothing helped. My mind was too loud, too full of everything that had happened tonight. The masked man. Kreed fighting him. My dad possibly being involved with stolen cars. The weight of questions I didn’t have answers to.
Finally, I gave up.
Throwing back the covers, I slid out of bed, padding barefoot toward the kitchen. If I couldn’t sleep, I could at least make myself something warm. Tea would have to do—coffee at this hour would be diabolical, no matter how much I craved it.
The house was quiet as I crept down the stairs, the faint creak of the wooden steps the only sound. As I reached the first floor, I noticed a faint golden glow coming from a slightly cracked door. Curiosity got the better of me. Moving toward the light, I peeked inside. The room was bathed in the soft flickering glow of the fireplace.
And there he was.
Kreed.
Sprawled out on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, his long legs stretched out. An open book rested on his chest, its pages slightly bent. His face was turned toward the fire, the glow catching on the scars beneath his eye, mellowing the usual intensity carved into his features.
He looked…different.
I couldn’t help myself.
Drawn into the room, I tiptoed closer, my steps careful on the plush rug until I reached the coffee table in front of him. Slowly, I sat down on its edge, watching him sleep.
He seemed so at peace, so far removed from the brooding, sharp-tongued Kreed I was used to. I’d never admit it aloud, but he was ridiculously handsome even in sleep. Especially in sleep, something softer about him like this, a side I doubted many people got to see.
I bit my lip, pressing my teeth down hard to distract from the urge to trace the line of his scar.
God, he’s gorgeous.
And God, did I wish he wasn’t.
My hand lifted of its own accord, hovering near his face, the urge to trace the line of his scar startling me. My fingers trembled slightly as I stopped myself, realizing just how foolish it was.
Shit, I wanted to kiss him.
And that was all the red flags I needed.
Warning. Warning. Warning. Kaylor’s about to do something stupid, reckless, and dumb.
I needed to leave. Having Kreed catch me watching him sleep was not on my list of shit I wanted to experience. Letting out a quiet sigh, I stood, but the second I turned, fingers wrapped around my wrist.
I stilled, my heart lurching in my chest. Slowly, I glanced back to see Kreed’s eyes open, watching me intently and capturing me with those starlit eyes I couldn’t seem to forget…no matter how much I tried.
His grip was firm but not rough.
“Kreed, I—” The words died in my throat as he tugged gently on my wrist, and suddenly, I was falling. I landed on top of him, my hands bracing on either side of his chest, and my breath caught as his other arm curled around my waist, holding me there. His gaze was steady and unflinching, and the crackling of the fireplace filled the silence between us.
My pulse hammered as our eyes locked, the book trapped between us.
“Am I dreaming?” His voice was low, sleep-rough in a way that made my stomach flip.
“Yes,” I whispered. “Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”
“Why?” His lips quirked up into a faint, tired smirk. “You’re there, too. You’re everywhere, little raven.”
Oh, hell. That fucking smile.
It was going to kill me. He couldn’t say things like that. He just couldn’t. I didn’t know what to make of his words…of him. But my body? My body loved everything about this situation.
“What are you doing?” he finally asked roughly, and far too knowing.
“I…couldn’t sleep,” I admitted.
His gaze held mine, impossible to read.
I opened my mouth to respond, but the intensity of his gaze left me speechless. My cheeks burned, my pulse pounding in my ears as I realized just how close we were.
His smirk widened slightly. “You’re staring.”
“You’re holding me,” I shot back, trying to regain some composure.
His grip didn’t loosen. If anything, his fingers tightened slightly against my waist, his gaze flicking to my lips just for a second. “Maybe I don’t mind,” he murmured. “Besides, if I’m dreaming…”
My breath hitched, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt. Every rational thought screamed at me to pull away, but I couldn’t move, trapped by the weight of his presence and the warmth of his body beneath mine.
His presence was magnetic, pulling me in like a star collapsing in on itself.
The idea Kreed dreamed about me…
The room felt impossibly still, the only movement the soft flicker of the firelight casting shadows on the walls. And yet, my heart thundered like I was standing on the edge of something vast and unknown.
His eyes flared right before he kissed me.
The second his lips met mine, I knew I wasn’t leaving this room anytime soon, not as long as he kept kissing me—touching me—possessing me—devouring me. Not because he held me prisoner, but because I didn’t want to be anywhere other than on top of him with his lips moving over mine, demanding me to respond.
Yes . My entire body sighed. This was what I wanted. The first time he kissed me, I’d been unprepared. It happened so quickly that it almost didn’t feel real. And I hadn’t been sure at the time why he kissed me. But now, this didn’t feel like a lesson or a punishment.
It was everything a kiss should be. Raw. Passionate. Unsettling. Wild. Dangerous. Perhaps even forbidden, only magnifying the magnitude.
My lips parted for him, and my tongue darted between my teeth to taste him, and damn, if he didn’t taste like everything I loved but shouldn’t want. He groaned, slipping his tongue against mine. His fingers tunneled into my hair, curling into the strands and trapping my mouth against his.
I felt his strength underneath me, something I thought would trigger me after the club. It didn’t. Not in the least. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away.
Instead, it made me want to sink deeper into his body and grind my hips into that part of him growing hard against me. I needed him closer.
As though he could hear my thoughts or was just really good at reading my body language, his mouth pressed harder on mine—it was fire and desperation, a clash of need and frustration that left me breathless.
And reckless.
I forgot myself, who Kreed was, and why I shouldn’t be seconds away from doing more than kissing him.
My fingers moved into his onyx hair, and the strands were silkier than I imagined. His other hand cupped the side of my face, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. My body melted against his, the heat of the fire barely registering compared to the heat between us. Tingles of desire danced up and down my spine.
Everything else fell away—the fear, the questions, the doubts. There was only Kreed, his lips moving against mine with a hunger that matched my own.
This was insane. The most selfish and daring thing I’d ever done, and I couldn’t stop. No part of me even considered ending the kiss. In fact, I was pretty damn sure I’d beg him to kiss me forever.
Fucking madness.
I didn’t know how else to describe what was happening.
My hands slid under his shirt, greedy to explore the muscles and warm skin I’d only ever admired from a distance.
His breath hitched as his lips tore away from mine. “What are you doing?”
I moaned at the loss of his mouth, blinking down at him. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to think. I don’t want to think about anything. I want to forget. I want you to make me forget.”
“That’s probably not a good idea.”
The pad of my thumb traced over the two lines of his scars below his eye. “Maybe not, but I’ve never been good at thinking about consequences. Those are for tomorrow’s problem.”
He sucked in a breath, his eyes darkening, and I could see the conflict in them. “Fuck. I can live with that.” His mouth reclaimed my lips, hotter than before.
My entire body pulsated with need, and I surrendered to Kreed, to his demands, to his touch, to him. His mouth branded me as he cruised along my jaw to the column of my neck and eventually to my ear, taking my lobe between his teeth.
His hand slid down my back, and his fingers tangled in the hem of my oversized tee. I wore nothing else underneath and only a pair of cotton booty shorts that barely covered my butt cheeks especially with how I was sprawled on top of him. His touch ignited a trail of sparks across my skin. I shifted, straddling him without thinking, my knees pressing into the couch on either side of his hips. The slight change in position did glorious things for the alignment of our bodies, fitting them together perfectly.
My hips rolled, creating a much-needed friction I was craving, but the throbbing between my legs, more so, and he groaned.
“Little raven,” he murmured against my lips, his voice raspy and needy as if my name was a lifeline he couldn’t let go of.
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My hands roamed beneath his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin and the hard lines of muscle beneath my fingers. His breath hitched, and his grip tightened on my hips, but they didn’t stay there long.
Pushing up the hem of my shirt, Kreed lifted the material up and over my head, leaving me before him in just my bra and shorts. A streak of shyness came over me. This wasn’t the first time I’d been nearly naked in front of a guy. I wasn’t a virgin, but it was the first time I’d ever had someone look at me in the way Kreed did with leisurely appreciation.
Like he’d never seen someone as beautiful as me.
The silent compliment he gave with his eyes was more than I could handle. I nipped at his bottom lip.
The fire crackled, the sound a steady backdrop to the chaos we were creating. My heart pounded as his lips left mine, trailing down to my jaw and then my neck, each kiss leaving a trail of tingling in its wake.
I didn’t care about anything anymore. Not the consequences. Not the questions. Not until the room was suddenly flooded with light.
What the ? —