Forty-Six
Elias
Faint – Linkin Park
I lie awake long after the lights go out. Kat is tucked against my side, her breathing even but too measured to be asleep. We’ve been home from HQ for a few hours now.
Kat was silent the entire ride home. A tempest raged in her eyes, just waiting to explode, but she stayed locked up.
I felt it the moment that fucking photo hit the table—the way her mind slipped somewhere else entirely, as if a switch had flipped.
I know she was back there. With him. It sent me into a blind rage.
How did we not fucking see it? I’ve been too wrapped up in trying to connect the fucking dots when the answer was staring me right in the face the entire time.
My jaw tightens. I should have told her everything when we first got together. But if I had, would she have stayed, or would she have run? It was a risk I wasn’t willing to take. If I’m being honest, I’m still not willing to take it, but I have no choice.
Beside me, Kat shifts slightly. Her fingers tighten in the fabric of my shirt. Her breaths come slowly, but they’re too controlled.
“You did well today,” I whisper into the darkness. “You’re a natural.”
She stiffens beside me, then slowly exhales. “I’ve had a lot of practice.” I don’t need to see her face to know the bleakness of her tone is reflected there, too.
Practice surviving things you should never have had to survive.
I don’t say the thought out loud. Instead, I pull her close to me and rub small circles on her back, sending a shiver down her spine. I feel the tension in her back. Every muscle feels like a coiled wire beneath my palm. Even now, hours later, her body hasn’t fully left HQ.
“What are you thinking about?” I ask, but I already know the answer.
“Everything,” she answers quietly. “But I feel safe here. With you. I feel like nothing can hurt me while I’m here.”
The weight of her confession settles deep in my chest. I lower my head, pressing my forehead to hers and my lips to her lips.
The kiss is slow. I pour everything into it.
I pull her tighter, letting her know I’m here and I’m not going fucking anywhere.
Her hand slides into my hair, her fingers threading through it, just enough to anchor herself into this moment.
Whatever storm is coming, I will protect her from it if it’s the last fucking thing I do.
Light shines in the corner of the room as my phone springs to life with a call. I let out a groan and pull away from her, flicking on the lamp on the nightstand as I look at the screen.
My chest drops when I see it’s Cain. I slide the answer button.
“This had better be important, Cain,” I say, Kat sitting up when she hears the name.
“It is. Is Kat there?”
“She’s right next to me.”
“Put me on speaker.”
I press the speaker button, and the sound of a car engine rumbles through the phone.
“Cain?” Kat asks.
“Hey, Kiddo,” Cain responds, and there’s something uneasy in his voice. “There’s really no easy way to ask this…” he trails off.
“Just say it, Cain. Please,” she replies, her hands wringing together in her lap as she flicks them impatiently.
“Do you know the Prez of the Iron Angels?”
Kat nods but doesn’t speak.
“We do,” I answer for her, my hand returning to her knee in an attempt to calm the thoughts I know are raging in her mind. Her skin feels cooler and somehow tenser.
“Michael managed to find him.”
My gaze snaps to Kat. Her eyes grow wide and gloss over.
“He’s been snooping around some bars and clubs in town. Michael killed one of his men a few weeks ago for dealing drugs in the city.”
The change in her is instant. Her breathing comes hard and fast now as her hands shake. Her skin drains of color beneath the dim light of the lamp.
“When was he last seen?” I ask slowly, my eyes not leaving her.
There’s a pause. Cain lets out a long breath before answering. “Four days ago on Ninth Street.”
Kat’s body vibrates beneath my hand. Her hands shake uncontrollably as tears fall silently from her face. Fuck.
“I’ll call you back,” I say quickly to Cain before hanging up.
I toss the phone to the side and round the bed, coming to a stop in front of Kat. She’s sucking in quick breaths, her body rigid beneath me. Her eyes stare through the room like she’s looking at something only she can see.
She’s not here. She’s there.
“Hey,” I say quietly as I cup her jaw. Her skin is ice cold. “Kat, stay with me.”
She shakes her head as her chest jerks with shallow breaths.
“Breathe with me,” I say softly. I place her hand against my chest and exaggerate my own breath so she can feel it against her palm. “In. Count to five.” I wait, watching her chest rise with mine. “Good. Hold it. Now out… slowly.”
Her breath stutters, but she follows mine.
“That’s it,” I murmur. “You’re here. You’re safe. Nothing’s touching you.”
Her breathing steadies, but her hands still tremble.
“What can you hear?”
She focuses her eyes on me before letting her head fall against my chest. “Your heartbeat,” she whispers.
“Good girl,” I say softly. “Now, what can you touch?”
Her hand comes up and grips my bicep, and my skin tingles at her cold touch.
Her nails dig into my skin like she’s testing reality.
Minutes pass before the shaking fades. Her breathing levels out shortly after, but I don’t let go.
I keep her pressed against my chest, my thumb rubbing small circles on her wrist. Even though on the outside, she’s calmer, her pulse still hammers beneath my thumb.
“He’s here,” she whispers after a few moments.
“I will find him, Kat. That I promise you. You’re safe.”
She shakes her head slowly. “I will never be safe, Elias. Not until he’s dead.”
There’s no fear in her voice, just icy cold resolve.
If I could hand him to her on a silver platter and watch as she took the light from his fucking eyes, I would.
I would give it to her ten times over just to watch her heal.
My stomach tightens. Even though I want that more than anything, in reality, I have nothing. I’m chasing a fucking ghost.
I turn her to face me, her eyes adjusting to me in the light. “Stay with me,” I tell her simply, her eyes widening slightly. “Stay here. With me. I can’t protect you if you’re out in the city.”
“I can’t,” she says as she pulls away, rising from the bed to stand and pace.
Her bare feet hit the floor softly, but the energy pouring off her is anything but gentle.
She runs a hand through her hair, dragging it back from her face before letting it fall again as she turns towards the window and back.
“Thank you for letting me stay, but I don’t want to be protected. I want my fucking life back.”
I can’t hide the sting that forms at her words. But I know she’s not angry with me. She’s angry at the situation we’ve found ourselves in.
“I can’t lose you, Kat,” I plead. The words leave my mouth before I can stop them. I close the space between us, but I don’t touch her, afraid she’ll pull away further if I do.
“I have to work. I have to play gigs with Tether.” Sadness reaches her eyes when she speaks about the gigs, and I think about her broken guitar, lying in pieces in my garage.
“I’ve been paying Tether for the last few weeks, and I’ll continue to do so. If it’s money, Kat, I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you, just please stay.”
“It’s not about the money, Elias!” she shouts through a stream of tears, but it’s not anger fueling the words—it’s frustration. She drops to her knees as small sobs tear through her body. “It’s freedom. Something I never had, and something I just recently touched.”
The sound that leaves her is small but devastating, like something inside her tore open at the confession. Her shoulders shake as she presses her hands to her face, trying and failing to stop the sobs from forcing their way out.
The implication of her confession hits me in the chest, and I stop mid-stride.
Of course.
Under the guise of protection, I’ve already started building walls around her.
More guards. Plans about where she should and shouldn’t go.
I tell myself it’s protection, but I’m quickly realizing that the line between protection and control is thinner than I’d like to admit.
And I’ve been inching across it without realizing.
“I don’t want you to feel like a prisoner, Kat,” I say, dropping to my knees beside her. “I want you to be safe. I promise that you can go anywhere you want. But please don’t go alone. I had a glimpse of losing you, and in that, I nearly lost myself. I can’t lose you, Kat.”
Silence stretches between us, and I don’t push it. She has to come to this on her own terms. Her breathing gradually slows, the sharp edges of her sobs softening into shaky inhales. She wipes her cheeks with the back of her hand. Finally, she nods. Reluctantly, but still. She nods.
“Okay,” she agrees quietly.
Relief hits me square in the chest. I pull her into me, arms locking around her on instinct. My chin rests against her hair, inhaling her scent.
“I’m sorry, Kat,” I say. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done, but rather, I’m sorry for her.
I was dangerous before. But I don’t think anyone knows that loving her means becoming something worse than I already am.