17. Chapter 17
Chapter 17
Naomi
I stomp out of the training room to go find Killian. The first place I look is the dining room—it’s the last place I saw him. Not here. Looking left and right, I think about where he could be. I can’t just aimlessly roam this ginormous mansion. It’s still pretty early, so maybe he’s working and will be in the library, since his desk is there too. I really don’t want to spill blood on that beautiful collection.
Mental note to self: Do—beat the shit out of him. Don’t—harm the books.
“I’ll have to call you back,” I hear Killian say as I get closer to the library. Bingo.
Barging in, I let the door slam on the other side, and remind myself of the mental note again. “I assume you hung up ‘cause you saw me coming?”
His eyes flicker, but a smirk fills his face. “When I’m with you, little firecracker, I want you to have my undivided attention.”
“That’s why you went and kidnapped me, right?” I ask, walking closer to his mahogany desk.
He stands up from the chair, concern etching his face. “Naomi, yes, but — ”
“But nothing. You stole me in the middle of the night ‘cause you didn’t have the balls to ask me to my face.”
“You like this shit, stop fucking denying it. You like the darkness that bonds us together!” he yells back at me as we both maneuver around the desk to come face to face. His dark green eyes shine with impatience—like two beautiful emeralds.
“And what a dark bond it is,” I spit at him. My voice is laced with anger and something else I don’t dare focus on.
He inches closer. “But a bond nonetheless.”
“I. Don’t. Want. It,” I seethe, but my heart fractures at the thought. “You said I could earn my freedom. Let me fight now.”
He staggers back, hurt plastering his face. “Firecracker,” he whispers—pleads.
I lunge for him, taking advantage of his moment of weakness. “I’m not your fucking firecracker. I’m not yours.”
Killian moves my way at the last second. “Whether you believe that or not is on you.” I quickly recover my stability and turn to jab him in the back before he turns. “But you can’t deny that I am yours. ” I aim to punch him with my right fist, but he moves. Then again with my left, he moves. It’s like a choreographed dance. “I have been ever since I fucking saw you in that damn coffee shop.”
“Fight back!” I shout.
He ignores my request and does the opposite. Killian stops dodging altogether. I punch him in the ribs once, twice, three fucking times, and he lets it happen. “You think I enjoy being obsessed with someone after being alone for so long? I assumed I’d never find happiness, not like my parents. They won the lottery with both their personal and professional lives. We were one happy family. But I’m not a normal guy. I’m dark and twisted.”
“That’s a fucking understatement,” I shove at him, but all he does is let the momentum force him to step back.
“Spare me your bullshit, firecracker. I decided to look into you to either commit to the thought that I had to have you or get you out of my system.” He smiles at me, and I slap him to wipe it off his face. But he’s still smiling with a drip of blood on the left corner of his mouth. “Little did I realize how dark you really are. You live for thrills like that of being taken. Unlike the average person, you love the attention to detail I paid to all your wants and needs.” I hit him again, starting to lose steam. “You’re excited that someone sees you for exactly who you are and loves you for it.”
“I don’t love you!” I scream, hitting him again, but this time he grabs me by my shoulders and brings me closer to him, trapping my arms between us.
Killian growls before saying, “Fuck it!” He doesn’t even give me a moment to respond or react before all I feel is his lips slamming into mine. My world tilts on its axis.
My eyes go wide at the impact, but I see his are closed, fully diving into this moment. I can’t help but do the same. My eyes flutter closed, and I lean into the kiss and stop fighting him. The euphoria of finally letting go and being in the moment for once in my life is unmatched. I relax my body, and he takes that as a sign, letting go of my shoulders and moving his hands to cup my face.
His lips feel pillowy soft—unlike any other I’ve ever felt before. I find comfort in it—like putting on your favorite old soft sweater. Parting his lips, he pauses for permission. I agree to his unspoken question by parting my own, and allowing them to carefully meld between his. Killian’s tongue quickly takes the hint and gently nudges its way toward mine. The once comfortable kiss now turns fiery hot—melting me down to my core. My desire for this man is pooling between my legs.
My tongue welcomes his in a slow tango, which seems to ignite him too. The kiss quickly turns deeper and harder. He takes my mouth like he’s worried it's the only time he’ll be able to kiss me. Killian’s desperation for me fuels my need for him. I find my now free hands roaming over the same body I was assaulting moments ago. I push my fingers through his beautifully dark hair and pour all my emotions into the kiss.
“Mmm,” I moan out.
“You. Are. Perfect,” he says, planting a kiss between each word. “And you taste divine.” I groan in response because so does he.
I place my forehead on his, trying to catch my breath. “I guess you have good taste in toothpaste since you bought it.”
He laughs, while placing a kiss on my nose. “I guess you do since it's the one you like to use.”
“No,” I say as my body goes rigid. His joke about what he learned while stalking me brings my focus back to why I’m here. This isn’t supposed to be happening. This was supposed to be my winning move.
“No?” Killian asks, feeling the tension in my body.
I back away. “No!” I yell this time.
He leans forward, putting his hand forward to touch me.
“I can’t do this. I can’t fucking do this. Not with you!” I start screaming louder as I back away toward the door.
“Why the fuck not? I know you feel this too!” He walks forward, his veins are pulsing in his neck with frustration. “You can’t keep running from this.”
“Because I won’t fall in love with my mother’s murderer!” I scream out. Killian flinches back like I slapped him again, his jaw agape.
I can visibly see him take a breath of air as his chest expands, and he releases it through his mouth. “Just to note, we will be going back to the ‘fall in love’ bit of that statement later. But what do you mean your mom’s murderer?”
“She was your first kill! I know it,” I cry out.
“Nai, I told you, my first kill was a man,” he tries to explain.
I start to shake my head. “No, you lied to me! I caught you in it. You showed me that stupid pocket watch to confuse me!”
“Why on earth would I do that? I want to help you find who — ”
“No! Axel told me about the little girl you’ve kept tabs on. You made sure she had a family and a good life.” I take a deep breath. “And now you kidnapped her. You’re a sick fuck!”
“Yes, but also no! I followed her story because — ”
“No, I caught you in the lie. The picture in the watch showed a family of four.”
“NAOMI!” he screams, startling me into silence. “I didn’t kill your mother. But that mother in the pocket watch” — he points out the door — “did kill her oldest daughter and then herself.”
My heart sinks at the thought of a mother being capable of that, but I know how cruel the world can be. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not. She was so scared for her and her kids' lives after what I did to her husband, she thought it was safer to just die.” I run my hand through my dark strands. “That woman baked a bunch of her crushed pills into a pie and fed them to her kids and herself. Thankfully, by some miracle of God, the youngest daughter survived.”
“No . . .” I whisper, not wanting to believe it. “Then that wasn’t your first kill.”
“It was! And it was my last outside of contained walls, and without solid proof of wrongdoing. My fuck-up cost a family everything. Which is why I vowed to make sure that little girl didn’t end up a negative product of her tragedy. She’s thriving.”
“On paper maybe . . .” I mutter as I try to piece all of this together.
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I look good on paper, too, but tragedy stays with you no matter how much you look like you’re thriving. It worms a hole into your soul and you rot from the inside.”
“Naomi, you may be twisted like me—and I need to understand what this all just was—but I love each part of that.”
I look up at him as tears fill my eyes with the flood of overwhelming emotions coursing through me. I’m so confused. “You didn’t kill my mother?”
“No, that’s why Axe and I have been on the phone today. We’re going to help you piece it together.”
“I want to believe you,” I say as he moves toward me.
Killian pulls me into his arms. “You should. I wouldn’t do anything to intentionally hurt you or betray you. And that would be the ultimate betrayal.”
I let my body melt into his before saying, “Then I need to tell you something that you may not like.”