Chapter Four – Laina
As much as I wanted to revel in the dirt from last night—dried sweat and other things from my Devil and Fang—I was starting to look like a cotton candy-colored raccoon, so after a while I hopped in the shower. My face was tender from that asshole hitting me twice; I’d have to put some makeup on once I got out to cover up the impending bruises that would only deepen over the next day or two before they started to heal.
Having dyed hair like this meant making some sacrifices. Getting rid of sulfates, using special shampoos that were gentler on hair dye, and not washing it every day were only a few of them.
Another sacrifice? Taking showers in steaming hot water. Don’t get me wrong; I turned that handle as hot as it would go after I washed my hair, but prior to that, I actually stood there in water that may not have been ice cold, but was still way too cold to fully shower in.
I know, I know. I was a psychopath.
I didn’t rush once my hair was out of the way. I took my time in scrubbing my body, all the nooks and crannies, washing away every remnant of last night’s events while the memory of it burned bright in my mind.
Kelly had probably messaged me. I’d need to pick up a new phone sooner rather than later.
After my shower, I couldn’t blow-dry my hair—the heat messed with the pastel colors, too. Pastel was, according to the stylist, one of the hardest colors to keep fresh-looking. Once it faded, it’d simply fade to blond… or a splotchy mess. I’d have to stay on top of it if I wanted to keep it looking nice.
I changed into some clean clothes and rubbed some concealer on my jaw to hide the bruising. The bruise was literally the only evidence of my kidnapping last night. That, and the fact that my phone had been lost.
My stomach growled in hunger once I finished up the makeup, so I decided to make myself some pizza rolls. As far as I could hear, Tessa was still gone, and my dad was still at work. I had a bit of time to myself, so I’d relive the glory days, so to speak, and drown my feelings in crunchy, piping-hot pizza rolls fresh out of the oven.
God, that shit was good.
Mike kept to himself, which was fine. If we were pretending nothing was going on between us, then we needed to go back to the very beginning, when he was a newcomer to my life, a stranger living in this house.
Eating alone in my bedroom, I was reminded of my time as a captive in that basement, with nothing but a TV as my main source of company. I saw everything on that screen. My dad’s search for me. His wedding to Tessa. His poll numbers steadily rising. I watched it all with a growing resentment in my heart.
If my dad did this all to up his numbers, to win him that seat, why couldn’t it have been a fake kidnapping? Set me up in a nice hotel somewhere far away or something. Why have someone actually kidnap me?
Unless he knew I wouldn’t like going along with it—but at that point in my life, I was still the perfect daughter. I did everything my dad wanted me to. I smiled and posed in front of the cameras with him, whenever he needed me to. I’d never seen him more happy than he was when he was vying for a political career, and I wanted him to be happy.
Now… things were just different. I was different. I didn’t care about his happiness. I only cared about mine.
The pizza rolls finished, I found myself on my pillow on my bed, curled up on my side. The exhaustion must’ve been deeper in my bones than I thought, because the next thing I knew, I fell asleep—and unlike most of my sleep, this one was dream-filled.
I sat on a pink bed in a small room, though I wasn’t chained to it. My legs were pulled up to my chest, and I hugged them there. I wasn’t scared or frightened. I was… I didn’t know what I was, actually. My emotions were a hazy mix of complicated, and right now I didn’t feel like figuring any of them out.
The TV resting a few feet away from the bed was broadcasting nothing but static, and the sound was loud enough to eat away at my soul, the total definition of annoying. I couldn’t remember how long it’d been like that, but I knew he’d never leave it like this on purpose. He’d never do anything that would annoy me, other than leaving me alone when I didn’t want him to.
Suddenly the door to the room flied open, and someone stood there, a strange, bright light shining behind him so brilliantly it was hard for my eyes to focus on him.
My Devil. It was my Devil. He didn’t look like he was wearing a mask, but with that bright light illuminating his silhouette, I couldn’t discern a single detail on his face. He could be anyone.
His shoulders rose and fell with hard, heavy breaths, and he made no moves to come to me. At his sides, his hands were balled up into fists. Was he angry at me? Had I done something wrong, something to upset him? My mind swirled with possibilities, but none came into focus.
And then someone else sat on the bed beside me, and I tore my gaze away from my Devil to stare into the silvery eyes of Fang. The man wore all black, his lean figure inching toward me as a handsome smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. That white tuft of hair near his left temple made him look a bit older, but it fit him.
“There you are, Princess,” he whispered, flashing his metallic fangs at me with every word. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” The way he stared deep into my eyes made me forget my Devil was on the other side of the room. “I’m not the only one.”
“What—” It was the only word I could get out as I turned my head to my right and saw another man, this one standing next to the bed. None of this made any sense. I had to crane my head back to meet the watchful eyes of the mountainous man standing there. “Mike?”
Mike lowered himself to his knees, kneeling beside the bed as he rested his forearms on the pink comforter. He reached for me, but he didn’t quite touch me; he was a few inches short. “What are you doing to me?” His voice came out low and hesitant, as if he was anxious to admit it.
Mike and Fang surrounded me with my Devil looking on. I vaguely remembered how possessive he could be, but the details of his possession over me were fuzzy in my head.
“Well, well, looks like you forgot all about me,” a third man’s voice filled the air, and I turned my head to see the owner of the voice strolling over to the bed from the corner of the room. He stopped when he stood behind Mike’s kneeling figure, his hands awkwardly shoved into his pockets. It’s funny, because I didn’t remember seeing him there seconds ago.
Kieran wore a lopsided grin, dimples on his cheeks. His black eyes were a familiar shade, and seeing him standing behind Mike made my heart do something funny in my chest. His brown hair was a bit messy, but I didn’t mind it.
“I’d never forget you,” I whispered, and Kieran responded by walking around Mike and sitting on the edge of the bed near him—and near me.
Three men surrounding me. Three men staring at me like I was everything. Three men I shouldn’t want one bit, but wanted with every fiber of my being. The strangest thing was, I should feel torn between them, but I didn’t. I felt right at home in the middle of them.
Except…
I slowly brought my eyes to my Devil, but instead of staring at his illuminated figure, I saw nothing but an empty hall. He was gone. He no longer watched me on this bed. He left. Maybe he’d seen too much and he couldn’t take it anymore.
I felt bad. I wanted my Devil to come back. If I could have these guys, why couldn’t I have him, too? Why did he feel the need to keep himself separate?
The last thing I remembered before I woke up was the feeling of loss.
As my eyes were slow to open, the sight that greeted me was not Fang or Mike or Kieran or even my Devil—it was the empty plate of pizza rolls I’d eaten while sitting on my bed. With a full belly, my body must’ve been too content to fight off the drowsiness. Too content and too exhausted.
I felt a bit better now, though I wouldn’t say I was at one hundred percent.
I rolled off my bed, stretched, and then grabbed my plate and shuffled out of the room. Sad as it was, I could eat more. As I walked down the hall, I felt my hair. I’d get a good baseline on how long I was asleep by whether or not it was still damp. And, to my shock, my hair was completely dry.
Oops. Guess I slept longer than I thought.
Down the stairs I went, through the hall and into the kitchen, where I deposited my plate into the sink. I grabbed some water out of the fridge and chugged it down, suddenly so very thirsty. The microwave let me know what time it was, and my brows furrowed when I wondered why my dad hadn’t woken me up to scold me for doing something stupid.
I left the kitchen, and the moment I did, I heard voices I didn’t hear before, coming from the sitting room on the other side of the hall. It’s muffled from where I was, but I definitely heard my dad’s voice, so, the nosey girl I was, I went to eavesdrop.
Maybe it was just Tessa telling my dad about my party escapades.
Tessa’s voice was the one I heard next, and since I was closer, I could make out what she was saying, “You really should have called. We would’ve picked you up.” Okay, so not talking about me sneaking out for a party, then.
My dad’s voice: “Yes, she’s right. You should’ve called. I would’ve dropped everything—”
I inched near the archway opening, dying to peek my head around, but knowing if I did, I’d probably be seen. What on earth were they talking about? Who were they talking to? I mean… and then, just like that, it hit me. It hit me the same moment the third person in the room with them finally spoke.
“Ah, you two have more important things to do than pick me up from the hospital.”
I couldn’t settle for eavesdropping from the shadows in the hall any longer. I moved around the archway, causing all three pairs of eyes in the room to land on me, but I only had eyes for the man sitting on one of the couches, looking a bit tired.
Kieran.
Kieran was here, awake, alive—and the best part was, I wasn’t dreaming.
My dad glanced at me, but quickly returned his stare to Kieran, while Tessa glared openly at me. Kieran, on the other hand, gave me such an easygoing look the butterflies in my stomach went nuts.
“Looks like we have a listener creeping in the shadows,” Kieran spoke with a grin, that same grin he always seemed to wear, the one that I used to find so annoying and now… I didn’t know when it all changed, but it had. “Hey there, creep.”
All I could say was, “Hi.” The word sounded hollow. There were so many things I could’ve said, and I went with hi ? Jeez.
“Laina, would you give us some time with your uncle?” My dad, for some reason, had to refer to Kieran as my uncle, subconsciously reminding me that the man shouldn’t be an object of affection for me. “You can talk to Kieran later.”
I didn’t want to leave. The only thing I wanted to do was run across the room and throw my arms around Kieran’s neck, hug him close and tell him I was overjoyed he was okay. Maybe not fully healed, but awake, at least—way better than the alternative.
Still, now probably wasn’t the best time to argue. I’d let my dad and Tessa talk with him. I’d get my time with him later.
“I’ll be in my room,” I whispered, mostly to Kieran, who still gave me that silly lopsided grin. It took a lot in me to pull away from the room and return to my bedroom. I was seconds from shutting myself in there when I decided I should let Mike know.
Hey, maybe talking about it to him would get me less tongue-tied when it came to Kieran and what I’d say to him once we were alone.
I found Mike in his room, sitting on his bed, curling a dumbbell that I would barely be able to lift, let alone curl in sets. Standing half in his room, half out, I just blurted it out, “Kieran’s back.”
Mike didn’t even look at me when he said, “That’s good.”
His response wasn’t enough for me. I pushed into his room and stood beside his bed, folding my arms over my chest. “Aren’t you happy?”
That got him to look at me. He stopped curling and frowned slightly, asking, “Why would it make me happy?” As if I needed more clarification, he added, “I barely tolerate the guy.”
I felt like I needed to defend Kieran, for some stupid reason. “He saved my life. I wouldn’t be here without him. He almost died for me.”
Mike’s frown deepened. “Yeah, for you. Still don’t understand why you think I’d be happy he’s back.” The way he said it, I could tell he wanted to be done with this conversation, but I just couldn’t accept his grumpiness.
“Are you saying you wouldn’t have cared if I would’ve gotten shot?”
With a full-blown sigh, Mike set the dumbbell on the ground before he leaned his forearm against his knee. “Not what I said.”
“Then what are you saying?”
The sigh that came from him after that was more like a growl. “I just meant I didn’t miss him.”
“Well, I did.”
“Okay.”
“Great,” I said.
“Sure.”
“Fantastic.”
A mm-hmm sound rumbled from Mike’s chest, alerting me to the fact that he had checked out of the conversation. Hell, he’d checked out the moment I’d said Kieran’s name. For whatever reason, he didn’t like the guy too much.
“Fine,” I hissed out. “I guess I’ll leave you alone to be grumpy all by yourself.”
Mike tapped a few fingers on his left knee. “I’m not—” He was probably going to argue with me that he wasn’t grumpy, but he stopped himself—which was good, because obviously this talk was going nowhere.
I left his room, not allowing his foul mood to affect mine as I returned to my bedroom. I didn’t know what made me do it, but I checked myself in the mirror. Just to, you know, make sure I looked all right, that the concealer hid my bruised jaw and my hair wasn’t a complete mess after sleeping on it while it was still damp.
It was like I wanted to impress Kieran or something, which was just ridiculous. I’d never wanted to impress the guy in my life. Then again, up until recently, he’d always been the annoying brother of the woman dating-slash-married to my dad. Now… he might’ve been more.
I didn’t know. Things were pretty confusing in my life.
After I made sure I was physically acceptable, I paced the length of my bedroom over and over, fiddling with my hands. Every second felt like an hour as I waited for my dad and Tessa to be done with Kieran. Would he come upstairs to me? Would I need to go back down to him? He probably shouldn’t be walking up all these stairs if he was still in the process of healing. I’d never been shot before. I didn’t know how long it took.
Not something I’d be able to say if it wasn’t for Kieran. He not only saved me from the pain and recovery of being shot, but also my life. I could’ve died that day at the press conference. I owed him so much.
Time crawled by, and I honestly didn’t know how long it was until I heard Kieran say my name: “Laina.”
My feet skidded to a halt as I stopped pacing, and I whirled around and met his nearly pitch-black stare. He stood there, leaning against my doorframe, like he’d always been there… like he never left.
And the smile on his face, though it was more like a smirk, affected my body in ways it never did before.
“A little butterfly told me you wanted to talk to me,” he went on. “Course, that little butterfly was you, but—” I didn’t doubt he could go on and on—being in a coma, he’d probably missed hearing himself constantly talk—but I didn’t let him.
No, I shut him up by sprinting over to him, throwing my arms around his neck, and hugging him in a way no niece should ever hug their uncle.
But again, he wasn’t my real uncle. He was so much more.
“Oof.” The sound he made when I collided with him, combined with the way he grimaced into the embrace reminded me that he wasn’t fully healed yet, and I pulled myself off him the moment after that, instantly feeling bad.
“I’m sorry,” I quickly said. “I didn’t mean to—”
Kieran placed a hand over his stomach, where he’d been shot, but the warm expression he gave me after that told me he wouldn’t hold it against me. “Don’t apologize. In fact, why don’t you throw yourself at me again, hmm? Pain aside, I could get used to it.”
Normally, a comment like that would’ve annoyed me, but how could I be irritated at the man who’d saved my life? Mmm. Guessed the same thing could’ve been said about my annoyance toward Mike, but whatever. This wasn’t about Mike.
“Are you even supposed to walk up the stairs? Come on, sit down.” Before he could respond, I took him by the hand and led him to my bed, where I forced him to sit down. I couldn’t help but note how stiffly he moved.
“Believe it or not, I’m not completely incompetent. I can walk up stairs. I don’t need everyone fawning over me like I’m some miracle or something—” Kieran paused, then shot a handsome smile my way. “—unless you want to fawn over me. I’m totally okay with you being my maid while I heal up.”
I sat beside him, dangerously close. “Maybe if you ask me nicely.”
His eyebrows lifted. “Damn. If I knew I’d get this treatment from you after saving your life, I would’ve gotten shot a long time ago.” Ignoring the fact that he was still in pain, he must’ve been feeling better; the jokes were back.
God, how I missed those ill-timed jokes and sarcastic comments nobody but him thought were funny.
“Shut up,” I whispered. “For real, how are you?”
“I’ve been better,” he said, reminding me of what I told him when I’d first escaped my kidnapping and he’d visited me in the hospital with my dad and Tessa. “Definitely had better days, but I’m home now, so I can’t really complain too much.” This time, when he paused, there was an added weight to it, thanks to what he said next: “It could’ve been a lot worse.”
“I know. You could’ve died.” It hurt to even suggest it.
He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “No. You could’ve been hurt.”
A lump formed in my throat, which made it difficult to say, “I think you dying is worse than me getting hurt.”
“I beg to differ.” The smile he gave me after that was different than the rest, more serious, and it told me he was one hundred and ten percent certain that he’d rather die than see me get hurt—which was just ridiculous, but at the same time, kind of sweet.
Ridiculous, sweet, and stupid, because where would I be without him?
Instead of arguing with him like I would’ve done in the past, I simply said, “Thank you.” Thank you for saving me, thank you for always being right there when I need you… thank you for everything.
“You don’t have to thank me. I didn’t do it for your thanks.”
I leaned against him, resting my cheek on his shoulder. “I know, but I still want to say it.”
“Well, in that case, you’re welcome.” He angled his head so he could rest it on top of mine, and we sat there for a few moments, neither of us saying a word more, his hand still holding onto mine, warm and confident in its grip.
But he wouldn’t be Kieran if he didn’t say something totally inappropriate, something that ruined the sweet, tender moment between us.
“Am I the uncle of the year, or what?”
I lifted my cheek off his shoulder and glared at him, and the moment I met those dark eyes, I found him amused at his own deadpanned statement. “If you’re my uncle,” I murmured, “I don’t think you should be sitting on my bed or holding my hand.”
His hand squeezed mine. “You’re right, on both counts, which begs the question… if I’m not your uncle, what am I to you?”
What was he to me? I was struck by the simplicity of the question, not to mention how bluntly he asked it, almost as if he was waiting and ready to speak it. It really should’ve been an easy question to answer, and yet all of the things I could’ve said got caught in the back of my throat.
“I…” It felt like pulling teeth, like I wasn’t quite ready to have this intense of a conversation yet with him. “Can I get back to you on that?”
Kieran grinned, and just like that, the seriousness of his question faded. “Of course.” He lifted a hand, the one not currently gripping mine, and brought it to my cheek, and as his fingers trailed down to my jawline, he said, “Until then, I will be waiting with bated breath.”
I wished this moment between us could last forever. Hell, I wished we were alone in the house—or at the very least, that my bedroom door was closed, so we could have some privacy.
I wanted to kiss him.
But, sadly, the moment had to end, and Kieran chose to end it by letting go of my hand and getting to his feet. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d really like to lay down in my own bed for the first time in… however long I was away. Math is not computing right now in this ol’ brain.” With one last smile in my direction, he walked out of my room.
And I let him go, because what else could I have done? Kissing him was off the table.
For now.