Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
SUMMER
When I stand on shaky, exhausted legs, something warm leaks from my pussy and down my thighs. My veins turn to ice as an instinctual awareness overcomes my tense body, my eyes slicing in accusation to Kage. “How many times did you fuck my passed out body, pervert?”
His smirk is flawless and impish, a cocky, youthful boy immortalized in his expressions despite whatever past led him to this point.
I have vague, dreamlike memories of when I was asleep, my body jostled around and used like some sick fetishized doll, and although I know I should be either running away from him or trying to murder him for what he’s done to me…
I kind of expected it, and it’s making me wet all over again here and now as I envision what it must have looked like.
To be so greatly desired that someone cannot even control themselves around you in such a state gives my fucked-up brain a sense of power.
Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.
With a steadying breath, I grip the bedsheets and the edge of the mattress behind me, a little more woozy the longer I stand.
As I waver, he stands from a chair in the corner of his room—a big, plush, reading type chair with worn, forest green fabric.
A thick, shabby notebook sits closed on the arm, an uncapped pen resting on the faded black cover.
It isn’t our notebook, the one in the basement used to communicate these past few months, but something about it stands out to me and sends my stomach tumbling.
The events of the last two days are finally catching up to me, I think, and my body seems to know before my mind that the rollercoaster isn’t stopping anytime soon.
Kage’s tanned, rough hands come into view, gently grasping my waist to steady me.
He was kind enough to tug one of his clean white shirts onto me, and he stands before me in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants.
I don’t know how it’s possible, but I’m pretty sure his dick is getting hard.
Again.
His thumb brushes tenderly against my side, and I slowly raise my eyes to his, careful to avoid sudden movements as my head throbs.
His expression is guarded now, a steel-coated glint to his gaze that tells me the fun is over, and something sinister is about to take place.
There’s a body in the basement. I’ve been kidnapped. And the only guilty one around is Kage.
Swallowing down my rising fear, I break the silence, my voice cracked and dry. “You’re gonna…clean him up, huh?”
Pressing his lips together firmly, he nods once, his fingers tightening their hold on my waist possessively. Taking another deep breath, my eyes drop to his sculpted chest, my mind hazy and blank, as though I’m reaching for something I know is there but I can’t find it because it’s too dark.
I’m definitely concussed, and him sticking his cock in me probably didn’t help matters.
Crooking his finger, he tucks it under my chin and raises my gaze to his, smiling softly.
Pressing the pad of his thumb to my lips, he takes a step back before fully releasing me.
Eyes still locked, he swipes the notebook and pen from the arm of the chair and grins, wagging it at me before tossing it into a lazy arc.
It falls flat to the ground at my feet, and my befuddled brain comprehends too late that I was meant to catch it.
“Oops,” I mutter, bending my knees to pick it up, but he’s already there, swiping it off the ground and handing it to me.
It’s warm, as though he was writing in it while I was asleep.
I hug it to my chest, and he leans in quickly—pecking a chaste kiss to my forehead before vanishing through the door and out into the darkness.
I hold the journal out and sigh, a sinking feeling reminding me that no matter my feelings for this lunatic, he’s still a murderer. A captor. An assaulter.
Whatever he’s written can’t change the cold hard truth.
But the worst part?
The worst part is that despite it all, I know I’ve fallen for Kage, and I think this little book will only make it worse.
Kage’s handwriting immerses me into a world of sickening secrets, twisted rituals, and—above all—evil, disgusting men.
The world falls away as I flip the pages of the story he’s written me, an autobiography about his life that not even the best creatives could imagine.
Tears pool permanently on my lower lids, my fingers pressed so tightly to my lips they may as well begin the fusion process.
It’s almost impossible to fathom one young man living a life this horrific, and yet it all makes sense.
The scars on his throat. The way he is toward women. His bursts of anger followed closely by contrition.
And most terrifying of all…
His fear of losing me.
The name Carter is carved into the pages each time it’s written—the name of his vile brother.
Sucking in a breath as my eyes scan his words over and over, a massive pit forms in my empty stomach and makes me weak with the urge to vomit. Kage spares no details of what his brother intends to do with me, should he get to me. His honesty would be endearing if it wasn’t my life on the line.
He is an innocent child in a vast sea of monsters.
Something shifts out of the corner of my watery eye, and I release a harsh breath, my head pounding as my gaze finds the man who survived his throat being slit by his own blood, the man who fled from vicious hounds through dark, deep woods.
Large hands tucked into the pockets of his clean sweat pants, water still clings to his shirtless form and drips from his slightly curled hair.
His eyes are tight, his chest rising and falling in quick succession.
He’s nervous.
I should be furious with him for putting this target on my back in the first place, but…
I simply can’t find the anger where it should be in my heart.
We are both victims of circumstance, the fate the stars decided for us.
Even though he went about this a completely fucked up and awful way, I still somehow understand him.
It’s probably lucky for him that I am concussed at the moment. Maybe my wrath will come later, when the dust is settled and we’re (hopefully) alive.
Holding up the thick, tattered notebook, my lips pressed thin, I wag it at him and attempt to find my voice.
What could I possibly say right now? There are no words to express my sorrow for what he’s endured, no words to fully explain the fury festering in my heart for him wrenching me away from my beautiful—albeit, boring and vapid—life.
How does this all end? Even if we escape Carter, Kage will still be held accountable for kidnapping me and keeping me hostage.
“I don’t…” I begin, my throat coated in a layer of phlegm from my tears earlier.
Clearing the blockage, I set the book across my bare thighs and grip the cool spiral rings with my fingers.
“I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been the best with words…
especially right now,” I say, pointing to my aching head as I release a hollow laugh.
He swallows hard and drops his eyes, his teeth grinding and jaw flaring. My heart aches at his beauty, at the darkness that spills from his soul. This isn’t his fault. Maybe there’s still time to right the ship before it crashes against the jagged rocks of an imposing cliff.
I’ve never believed in a god or some higher power. I believe the universe puts us where we’re needed at precise times, and perhaps that’s why I’m here.
Perhaps I’ve finally found my purpose in life.
And maybe it has everything to do with saving this man who’s never been given another choice. If I must be his light in the darkness, then so be it. As the puzzle pieces click into place, a smile forms on my lips.
“Kage.”
His face snaps up, his eyes so earnest, his brokenness spilling from the depths of his tortured, sweet soul. When he notices my smile, his brows furrow slightly, and his spine slowly straightens.
My smile grows.
“Let’s take this fucker out. Together.”
He strides across the room and falls to his knees before me, trembling hands finding my hips as tears form in his eyes and spill down his cheeks. The book slumps to the ground between us when I reach out to grasp his face between my hands, swiping those crystalline tears from his perfect face.
I wonder if this is how the goddesses of mythology felt when worshipped, but I somehow think the way Kage holds my gaze with such reverence is better—far more powerful.
I could drink it in for eternity, and I think I’m going to when this is all said and done.
Swiping my thumb across his high cheekbone, I smile.
“You don’t have to fight alone anymore,” I say, voice hoarse.
His lips quiver with the force it takes him to hold in a sob.
Leaning in, I press my forehead to his and stare into his clear, light brown eyes, memorizing the shade and pattern of his irises.
“When we survive, though, I’m paddling your ass for putting me through this. ”
We both release shaky laughs—his silent—grinning amidst an impending storm. He nods, beaming up at me, reaching for my face before swiping his fingers across my cheeks and spearing them into my curls.
And when he kisses me this time, I don’t fight him.
I surrender to the will of what is meant to be and fall deeper in love with the man who stole me—heart, body, and soul.