Chapter 20 #2
“Not yet. Come sit with me.” Lowering onto the sofa, I pat the space beside me, leaving the box behind my back.
She stares curiously, but doesn’t hesitate, coming to settle so close her knee touches mine. And I feel it: this current of immense power she wields through me. Like she holds the weight of my world in the palm of her hand and there’s nothing I can do to change it.
“Turn around.” I take the brush from her hand just as she pivots, giving me her back.
Dropping my face to the crook of her neck, I can smell the scent of jasmine on her skin.
She awakens me just from being this close.
She makes me want things that I can’t even put into words.
Makes me feel things I can never feel with another.
With her, I want to discover parts of myself I never realized existed. Is that even possible?
Gently I brush her hair, taking my time, savoring her long, shallow breaths as though she’s savoring this moment too.
I want to take care of her, in all ways. I just don’t know how to do it.
She reaches behind her, a hair tie in her grasp.
“Can you braid it?” Her voice is a soft cadence, stilling my heart until it beats to a song only she awakens.
“I don’t know how,” I whisper.
“I can teach you.”
“Okay.” I nod, the back of my hand brushing down her cheek from behind, causing the hairs on her arms to stand at attention.
To know I did that is a gift.
I know she feels this too. This unexplainable connection. This palpable magnetism between us.
She takes me through how to properly braid, laughing as I get it wrong the first few times.
“It’s perfect,” she breathes, running her fingertips over her hair, now settled over her shoulder.
“It’s not anywhere close to perfect.”
“It is.” She faces me, tucking my large hand in her small one. “You’re too hard on yourself.”
I just want to be perfect for you.
Extending my hand behind me, I retrieve the box there, and she catches sight of it. “This is for you.”
Her eyes dance between the box and me. “What is it?”
“Open it.”
My heart beats so loudly, it’ll rip right out of my chest. What if she hates it? What if she doesn’t wear it?
Her eyes light up as she takes it in her palm, gently popping the top of the black box. Her gaze widens as she registers what’s inside: a silver chain with a pendant of a wolf’s head attached to it.
“This is…” She chokes up. “It’s beautiful.” Her eyes swim with tears.
“Let me put it on you.” My chest warms, seeing her this happy from something so small. Something I gave her.
I slip it around her neck, witnessing the vein there jerk when my fingertips brush against her skin. Gently, I clasp the back of the chain, and when she turns to me and I see it on her, I grin like a motherfucker. Because it looks perfect. As though made just for her.
Her fingers trace the wolf with its one red sparkling eye.
“Happy birthday,” I say.
If only I could kiss her. Feel her arms around me as I do. This woman. This poison she’s soaked me in… I can’t fight it much longer.
“Never gonna take it off.” She presses it to her chest.
“I’m glad you like it. How about I take you to the bedroom now so you can rest while I clean up? Then I’ll take you home.”
“Sure, sounds good.” She yawns with a grin. “You’re such a considerate killer.”
And her smile? It breaks me, because a huge part of me feels undeserving of something so unexplainably beautiful.
I stare at her, unable to peel my gaze away. This unfathomable sensation pours into my veins until I’m lost to it, as though waiting to be found. I’ve been waiting for so long, not realizing it. Yet I know she can’t be the one. No one is. A man like me isn’t meant for anyone.
An unfamiliar twinge builds in the center of my chest, and I fight it. Fight it like I fight what she does to me.
“Come on, let me take you to bed.” I gesture toward the stairs, climbing up behind her, trying hard not to stare at her ass as I do.
Of course, I fail. It’s a beautiful ass. Don’t need to see it to know that. I felt it in my hands, the soft skin there aching against my palm. She’d look good over my knee with that shirt over her back as I do that again, making her pretty skin red, make her groan and throb for me.
My hand reaches out and wraps around her hip just as she makes it to the top. Out of nowhere, her body jolts as though my touch scared her. Her mouth twitches into a barely there smile as she swings around.
“S-sorry. I—” She swallows harshly.
“Don’t need to explain. I understand. I’m sorry.”
“No. Don’t. It’s me.” Her long lashes flutter like there’s something wrong with her. “It’s just I didn’t expect it, and it was behind me. It…uh…it took me back there for a split second.”
Shit. I feel like an asshole for not realizing that.
“You don’t need to explain. I’m not angry. I won’t touch you like that again.”
She nods, her lips curling on one side, forcing herself to appear okay. “But you’re still gonna touch me, right?”
“Just try to stop me.”
She releases a weighty sigh as I march up beside her, pointing toward the room.
“This way.” I pop open the door and let her in first. “You can relax here as long as you want to. I won’t be too long, though.”
“Okay, thanks.” She plays with her fingers, biting the corner of her bottom lip, making me want to be the one to suck it into my mouth.
When have I ever felt such strong sensations for a woman?
Never. It has never happened. And I’m not sure why it’s happening now. With her.
“If you need anything to eat or drink…” I tell her. “The fridge is downstairs, right past the den.”
I start to go.
“Wait…”
Instantly, I freeze, as though she’s got the key to my body, to everything I am.
“Yes?” I look over at her from behind my shoulder.
Her fingers reach for me, and I badly want to touch them, but I don’t. Not with the blood soaking through my clothes.
“Thank you.” It appears as though she wants to say more, but changes her mind at the last moment.
“No need. I’ll be back.”
I have to get away for a bit before I do something I have no business doing to her.
She nods, pulling the comforter back and sitting on the edge. And the way my mind is picturing me lying behind her, that body curled around me, it’s downright wrong. I have nothing to give her. Nothing but blood and sin. Nothing but the broken child trapped inside me.
Heading back into the basement, I throw her clothes in the wash while I finish with the bodies and burn my own clothes. I plan on burning hers too. After she goes home, I’ll get them and get rid of them. Any evidence is evidence, washed clothes or not.
Once I’m done, the entire basement is clean and I’ve got new clothing on.
I make it back to my bedroom, peeking inside to find her eyes closed, her curves curled in a fetal position.
“Kayla?” I whisper.
No response. Her slow breaths make her body sway up and down, and that calming effect she has on me returns.
I remove my mask, getting some much-needed air as I sidle closer, my knuckles reaching for her beautiful face, needing to touch her skin. To be one with it. With her.
Featherlike, I glide my knuckles down her cheek, because this is the only way I can touch her. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby bird. I’m gonna take care of you like no one ever took care of me.”
The moment those words leave me, I know they’re true. I’ll do anything for her. Before I convince myself not to, I slip in beside her from the other side and throw my arm gently around her.
Something catches in my throat, and instead of fighting it, I embrace it. Embrace all these intense sensations burying themselves inside me like they’re burying their roots into my soul.
Kayla.
It’s as though my heart calls for her.
The beauty to my beast. The rose to my thorn.
An angel to my devil.
Because no matter what she thinks of herself, she’s not like me. Not really. She’s good. There’s never been anything good about me. My mother made sure I knew that.
Kayla makes an adorable little whimper and turns to me, burying her face in my chest like I somehow make her feel more at ease.
How’s that even possible?
I pray like hell she doesn’t wake up and see me. But part of me wants her to. I want her to see who I am. To want me as I am. To need me.
I want to own this woman, body and soul. I want her surrender. Her obedience. The marrow from her bones. I want everything she is.
I kiss the top of her head, inhaling that scent of jasmine in her hair. When she starts to move, I place the mask back on, knowing now isn’t the right time for this. Not when he’s after her. I can’t have distractions.
Once she knows who I am, everything is going to change, including whatever is happening between us.
And I’m not ready for that. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.