Chapter 17
17
RAINE
K illian kept his promise.
When I wake at eight-thirty, after a night of no sexual activity, he’s already gone out and is coming back into the room, wearing shorts and a t-shirt that are damp with sweat.
“Did you go to the gym?”
“No, Jamie and I had rowing practice. We’re trying to blend in, so we decided not to quit.”
Blend in? As though they’re aliens? What is really going on? I don’t get a chance to ask questions because he strips and strides out.
When he comes back from showering, I close my eyes. It’s not that I don’t want to see him nude. I have tons of fantasies involving him exactly that way, but I’ve told myself it’s a bad idea to get that image in my head. In the past, seeing Killian shirtless when he cut the grass or was poolside instantly became burned in my mind. His muscles look like they’re sculpted from modeling clay. It’s too much.
“Breakfast is on. You can come out, or I can bring it to you in bed.”
Breakfast in bed? Like on a room service style tray in a hotel? What is he talking about ?
“I’ll come out. Is there yogurt and granola?”
“Probably. But I doubt you’ll want that when you see the spread. There are better things to eat.”
When I open my eyes, he’s dressed in jeans and a damp t-shirt. The shirt is molded to his muscles, and my, God . Even dressed, he’s physical perfection.
My body would like to have Killian for breakfast.
He starts to walk out but turns back. “What are you going to wear today?”
“Why do you want to know?”
Reaching down, he catches the edge of my unzipped suitcase and raises it. With his other hand, he rifles through the contents until he finds a faux suede wrap dress. “Wear this.” He drapes it over the end of the bed before leaving.
Until now, the only time he’s ever expressed an opinion on my clothes was the first day I met him. And that was only because he didn’t like the video game advertised on my t-shirt.
The funny thing is I was planning to wear that dress today. I packed it specifically for film seminar because there’s a rumor an award-winning cinematographer might drop in. Without makeup, I look twelve, so I try to dress up whenever there might be a professional networking opportunity.
After I shower, I put on black tights, the dress and makeup. I realize I don’t have the boots I like to wear, so I opt for platform Mary Janes.
I check out the outfit, and it looks good. Normally, I would film a look like this for the vlog. I have no idea if Killian and his dangerous friends plan to let me out of the house for anything other than class, but they might not want me filming indoors, either.
In a bid to continue acting like being a kidnap victim is just par for the course in my life, I decide to float the idea.
As I leave the bedroom, sweet and savory scents hit me full force and my stomach growls. Among the things I smell, cinnamon is the strongest, and without even meaning to, I hurry to the kitchen with my Mary Janes click-clacking across the tile floor .
There’s a tray of iced cinnamon rolls with a cloud of steam rising above it. Straight from the oven? What is happening?
War and Jamie are already eating. Killian has one on his dish, but he stands at the stove until a timer goes off. Using an oven mitt, he takes some kind of egg casserole out of the oven.
On the end of the island’s table ledge, there’s a place set for me, complete with knife and fork sitting on a linen napkin. What in the actual F ?
“What’s happening? Who made all this?”
“People who like us,” Jamie says. “I like your fit. Those little shoes could inspire a foot fetish.”
“J,” War says in a warning tone before tearing off a piece of cinnamon roll with his grizzly bear teeth. Daylight does nothing to make him look less terrifying.
“Right,” Jamie says slowly, his tone carrying an edge worthy of a blade. “What would you like to drink, Raine?”
“Water’s good.”
Killian pours me some from a glass pitcher that’s in the center of the island.
When I sit, I realize there are fresh strawberries and blueberries in a serving bowl next to the tray of rolls. Everything is colorful and perfect, like a photo on a cooking blog. Surreal to the point of creepy.
I dig in. The cheesy bacon and egg casserole full of herbs is so tasty I can’t comprehend how I’m having it for breakfast as a broke student. Considering the surroundings and now the food, this probably ranks as the swankiest kidnapping in history.
“Really good,” I say and then lick my lips. “Whoever made this deserves their own restaurant.”
Killian sits next to me. From then on, we eat in relative silence until I touch Killian’s forearm with my fingertip to get his attention. His dark blue eyes shift.
“Do I have time to shoot some footage for my vlog? It’s normal for me to post every week. If I don’t drop a new video, some of my followers will wonder what’s up.”
With no change in expression, Killian says, “You have time to do whatever you want. ”
That’s surprisingly generous of him.
“Great. I’ll shoot upstairs in front of the windows, if that’s cool? It’s pretty there.”
Killian nods.
When I grab my ring light tripod, phone, and camera from the bedroom, he strides over and takes them from me to carry them upstairs. Once there, he sits on the couch to watch.
After setting up, I do a quick intro then turn back and forth to show the outfit from different angles. I’m done in two minutes.
Killian runs a hand through his damp hair, pushing it into place so it’s not standing too tall. “That all? You can make a longer recording if you want.”
“No, that’s perfect. I just needed a clip. Before I record too much, I have to think about the theme of my next video. I’ll do that tonight and film more tomorrow.”
Without comment, he rises and grabs the equipment. Now, he’s my personal assistant? Seriously, is this an alternate universe?
Killian carries the tripod and camera but leaves me my phone, which I guess is a show of good faith. I head downstairs with him.
“Okay.” After I grab my messenger bag, I glance at him. “Ready to go when you are.”
He walks to the door and opens it for me. Yeah, welcome to another timeline where Killian is thoughtful and polite. All I can think is he wants things to go smoothly because his bosses are getting reports from the housemates.
When he leads me to his Corvette, it hits me again that he’s young to have a car like this. When I first heard he’d gotten it, I wondered if his brother Liam, who seems to be extremely wealthy, bought it for him. Maybe as a gift for getting into GU. But now that I’ve gotten a glimpse at his new life, I’m pretty sure his illegal work pays well enough for him to afford it. That must make him happy. Killian loves to drive fast, and this car makes that easy.
It’s my first time riding in the Corvette. The leather seats are as delicious as butter. Although I’d never buy such an expensive ride, I understand its appeal.
Killian doesn’t take the quickest way to campus. Instead, he stops at Espresso Yourself, which causes me to raise my brows. Is he not worried about spilling coffee in his beautiful car? I’d never risk it.
Oblivious to risk as always, he heads inside with purpose. When he comes back, he holds a to-go cup out to me, and nothing for himself. What the hell?
Pulling the plastic tab open enough to smell it, I inhale the lovely scent. “Is this an oat milk matcha latte?”
“Yes,” he says as he puts the car in gear.
How could he know that’s my favorite thing to get from here? He hasn’t been around. This coffee shop is the most expensive one near campus, and it’s not part of the meal plan, so I only splurge on Espresso Yourself coffee or tea when I come here with friends to study for exams.
Nodding at him, I narrow my eyes. “How did you know?”
He glances over at the cup, which I’m carefully holding with both hands. The heat soaking into my palms feels good and gives me such a fall vibe… chilly weather, hot beverage, it’s seasonal in the best way. I can almost forget my troubles for a minute.
He inclines his head. “When you cram, you treat yourself. That’s what you drink, right?”
“Yes, but how do you know?”
He switches gears, revving through the traffic. “I just do.”
If he’d been in the small coffee shop physically at the same time I was, I would’ve spotted him. He’s impossible to miss. Which leaves one other option—hacking. Has he figured out how to see even my credit card statements? And how long has he been back to monitoring me? Did he start up again when he got to GU?
I want to confront him, but what would it accomplish? Besides, sometimes, I think being able to follow me around electronically keeps him from doing it in person. Which would be worse. I take the first sip of my latte and sigh, partially because it’s delicious and partially because all my efforts at keeping a low profile so he’d forget about me were clearly pointless.
He drives a block and then parks on a street full of boutiques. I glance at the clock. First of all, these businesses are barely open. And second, I don’t have time for tons of errands .
“I’ll get you to class on time,” he says as if reading my mind. Then, opening the console, he takes a tan plastic rectangle from it. It’s about the size of a brick. “Wait here.”
I stare after him as he climbs out and presses the fob to lock me safely inside. The morning just keeps getting stranger. And after the night I’ve had, that’s saying something.
Using the opportunity to sip more of my drink, I spend the following fifteen minutes in caffeine nirvana before Killian reappears on the sidewalk, casually carrying a white box in one hand and what appears to be a folded bundle of cash in the other. My brows crinkle. What did he do? Rob the store?
No, the plastic-covered rectangle—which I now realize was the length of a U.S. bill—is gone. Was that packet all money?
Killian opens the door and drops into his seat. The money he’s carrying is a wad of hundred-dollar bills. I can’t even imagine how much was in the original stack.
He extends the box toward me. “Let’s trade, so you can open this.”
I stare at him, unmoving. “What’s going on?”
He drops the remainder of the money into the console. It lands on top of another sealed tan plastic rectangle. My, God. When he closes the console, my brows rise.
“So much money.”
“Yeah, I got a bonus.” His fingers close around the rim of my cup and pull it from my grasp. With his other hand, he sets the square white box on my lap. “Open that, so I can give you back the cup while I drive you to class.”
After a beat, my fingers lift the lid, revealing a stunning gold and gemstone necklace. Its design is nature-themed with small vines sprouting out from a main vine in the center. There are small, sparkling yellow and brown gemstones on each offshoot. “Yellow topaz and smoky quartz?” I murmur.
“Yellow topaz and chocolate diamonds. To match your hair and eyes. Wasn’t sure about the plant theme, but you’ve got the gold disc with the leaf stamped on it. Figured you might like this. If you don’t, you can trade it for something else.”
“Killian… It’s exquisite. I love it, but I can’t take it.” My voice is so ft and forlorn. “Why would you buy something like this for me? Or anyone?”
“Look,” he says in that dark tone he gets when he’s on the edge of anger. “Other than myself, you’re the only person I’d spend my money on.”
“How about your brothers? Your nephew? Or Marianne, who’s been a mom to you for years ?”
“My brothers have plenty of money. I’ll get my nephew presents for his birthday and Christmas. Ditto for Marianne. Other than that…”
“You don’t have to spend your bonus money at all right now. Because this makes no sense. I’ve been avoiding you for a year. I do my best not to be anywhere near you. Ever since we hurt each other, I’m the last person you should be giving a gift to. Any gift.”
“Because we once cut each other?”
“Of course. Something about me brings out the worst in you.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is!” My voice rises to an uncomfortably high pitch, and the sound makes both of us scowl. “That’s why we shouldn’t do things that’ll bring us closer together. You know this, Killian. I said?—”
His voice is curt as he cuts me off. “I don’t care. Do you think I listen to you? About that?” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t need to give you a necklace to get close to you, Raine. We’re never fucking apart. Wherever you are, I’m there. Whether you see me or not.”
I suck in a breath. There’s the confirmation. No more wondering. He seemed to be gone but never was.
“I thought you were going out with other girls?” I mumble, my head still buzzing with alarm.
For a moment, he clenches his teeth. “Listen, I’m gonna make a lot of money in my lifetime.” He licks his lips and leans closer, so our ragged breath mixes together. “If you don’t want to take the necklace as a gift, take it as reparations for the things I’ve done that have made you sad.”
I close my eyes and shiver.
His mouth moves close to my ear. “And don’t feel guilty for a second. I’ve brought you a million nightmares and heartaches, right? So, take it. ”
When I continue to stare at the necklace until each twinkle off the gemstones blurs into one massive glare, he shoves my latte at me.
“Here.” Killian pushes it into my hands, and my fingers close around it mechanically. Then he pulls the necklace from the box, and it dangles like a glittering serpent ready to coil around my throat. One more thing to bind us together.
When he moves to put it on me, my hand shoots out to stop him.
His expression hardens, but his hands pause. “I didn’t think I’d have to force it on you, Raine. That’s not… how I want this to go.”
After a beat, the necklace drops back into the box with a clink. My eyes study his face, watching for signs his dark side is about to emerge.
Instead, when he speaks my name, his voice is smooth and mellow, as though aggression is the last thing on his mind. From him, it’s strange and eerie. Is he resigned to the fact that I’m never coming back to him? And what will that cause him to do?
“In the past, things went too far for you to be able to handle them, Raine.”
His thumb rubs the skin on the back of my hand, sending secret messages into the heart of me. My brain knows he’s dangerous. My body remembers other things, too.
“I understand that now.” He licks his lips. “What if I swore I wouldn’t hurt anyone around you unless you agreed they had it coming?”
My eyes widen. It’s more than he’s ever offered, but it might just be a lie to get what he wants.
“How could I believe you’d keep that promise? What would you swear on? You don’t believe in anything.” I swallow a building tightness in my throat. “You’ve proven yourself untrustworthy, Killian.” My whispered words cause his jaw muscles to clench. Exactly , I think. The rage is always there, ready to rise to the surface whenever I refuse to bend to his will.
In the blossoming silence, my mind returns to the night I was supposed to go to a dance at a nearby high school with the son of one of my dad’s colleagues. It was just a friendly date, nothing serious. Killian warned me that, if I went, the night would end badly. I’d already promised I would go, and I told Killian he needed to leave things alone. I promised him there would be no flirting, nothing physical. I told him he could trust me.
He either didn’t believe me, or it didn’t matter to him that it was platonic. His jealousy, his all-consuming possessiveness, exploded out of him like a bomb. He followed me that night and emerged from the darkness dressed in a black ski mask and black clothes. He hit the boy in the back of the head, and while my new friend was on the ground unconscious, Killian continued to beat him.
Death was in Killian’s eyes.
I couldn’t breathe, but I jerked into action, trying to drag Killian away from the boy. I tore Killian’s pocket while trying to stop him, and a knife fell out. A dreaded thought came immediately to mind. Did he plan to use it after he got done with his fists?
Because it seemed like the only way to save the other boy’s life, I stabbed Killian in the arm. I’ll never forget his eyes turning from malicious to vacant. His hand shot out and squeezed my arm so hard, the knife fell from my grasp.
When he retrieved the weapon from the ground, Killian said, “Blood for blood.”
Before I had time to react, he flicked the blade against my skin and cut a thin line and a sideways V into my chest. While I gasped for breath, he bent and licked the cut, like a fucking vampire, and swallowed my blood.
An instant later, he was suddenly calm and switched into the next phase of his attack plan. The part where he covered his tracks. He grabbed my purse and the boy’s wallet to make it look like a random robbery.
To me, he said, “If you accuse me, Raine, I’ll kill Peter.” His voice was eerily calm when he threatened to murder my dad.
Even now, it’s scary to think about that night. I barely stopped him from killing an innocent guy. And the threat that forced me to keep the horror a secret was the second wave of trauma. Sometimes, when I’m near him, I remember other times, better ones. It creates such dissonance that I almost can’t hold on to what happened last fall. But anytime I lose the thread, I remind myself of the truth. Killian Callahan is a fucking menace .
His hand strokes the back of my head, and I lean away from the touch even as gooseflesh erupts over my arms. Always the dissonance. This unbelievably beautiful man can make me feel like nothing in the universe matters to him except me. And that’s where the danger lies. For each of us.
For him, because if nothing matters but me, he will destroy anyone who tries to get close. For me, because in the buried depths of my corrupted soul, there’s a little piece of me that loves his obsession.
And yeah, that’s the worst part of all.