Chapter 39
THIRTY-NINE
Idon’t know how long I stand there. Watching.
It’s Kym’s hand that slips into mine. Warm, trembling. That small touch, so human, so quiet, is what gets me to move.
I let go of her and cross the grass, slow at first, wondering if maybe I’m making a mistake. But neither Christian nor Liam stop me. They both glance up, their eyes rimmed red, but say nothing.
Kai doesn’t look at me. Doesn’t react when I crouch down beside him.
And I stay there for a beat, just watching him in profile. His lashes are damp. His mouth is slightly open, and his skin is too pale beneath the streaks of blood and shadow.
I can’t help it.
I reach out, slowly, carefully, and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear.
Still no reaction.
“Kai,” I whisper.
That gets something. A flicker. A twitch of his jaw. But still, no words.
And then, with a steadiness I didn’t know I had left, I lean forward and wrap my arms around him.
It takes a moment. At first, he just sits there, completely rigid, but then, slowly, I feel the faintest shift in his body. His chin drops softly against my shoulder, not quite an embrace, but something close.
My eyes sting. My throat clenches.
I press my hand to the back of his head and gently smooth his hair down, over and over. I don’t even know why I do it.
Maybe I hope for it to stop the shaking.
Maybe I do it to soothe the grief out of his skin.
Or maybe… maybe I do it simply because I love him and seeing him like this hurts more than anything ever has.
I don’t say it aloud.
I couldn’t, even if I tried.
But I think it with every heartbeat.
Every breath I take that he doesn’t.
Every time I press my fingers into his hair and hope, uselessly, that he’ll come back from wherever he’s gone.
I love him.
God, I love him.
Even when I shouldn’t.
I close my eyes, my cheek against his hair, and I think:
If I could take some of it from you, I would.
Even just a fraction.
Even just for a little while.
But I don’t say that either.
“You’re not alone,” is what I whisper instead. “You’re not.”
His breath stutters, but I hold him tighter.
And if I cry into his shoulder, neither of us mentions it.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe. “God, Kai, I’m so sorry.”
His fingers tighten slightly. The only answer I get, and it’s not much. Barely anything at all. But it’s something. It’s enough.
Enough to tell me he’s still here.
Enough to break my heart all over again.
The world did this to him. They turned Kai Steele into a product before he could ever be a person. Fame didn’t make him, it unmade him.
Beautifully. Brutally.
I close my eyes.
I would scream for him if I thought it would help. I would destroy every pedestal they ever built for him if it meant he could have one peaceful breath.
But I can’t give him peace.
All I can give him is this.
Him leaning on me, me holding him. And for a moment, that’s how we stay. Until I feel his hand shift. Not away. Not toward me. Just… up.
Slowly, he lifts it from where it’s rested, blood-slicked and shaking, and his fingers brush my neck. Gentle at first, but then they slide higher, just beneath the base of my skull.
They stop there. Pause. Then press.
Hard.
Pain sparks down my spine, and my vision tilts. The pressure is sharper now, not just discomfort.
“Kai—” I whisper, confused, breathless, “that hurts.”
But his grip only tightens.
I try to pull back—to see his face, to understand—but my limbs feel slow, like they’re detached from me.
His hand is still at the base of my skull, steady, forcing my balance forward. And then there’s a shift—just the faintest brush at my side, like a tug or a press near my pocket.
Somewhere above me, I hear his voice. It’s quiet, almost tender.
“I really did like you, you know.”
The last thing I see are Christian and Liam’s horrified faces, before everything goes dark.
Kai
There’s a beat of stillness after I press my fingers to the base of her skull. And then she crumples. I catch her before she hits the ground, and lower her gently, but my chest is tight.
It shouldn’t be. This was the only way.
I barely have time to let go before Christian shoves me back and grabs a fistful of my shirt, dragging me upright. His eyes are wide, terrified, and furious. It makes him look like someone else entirely.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!”
I blink. I’m not sure what he expects. “She’ll wake up soon. It’s only temporary,” I say, calmly.
Christian shoves me again. “It’s not about that, and you know it!”
Across the lawn, Kym is already on her feet, storming toward me like she wants to rip my throat out. Liam gets to her just in time, catching her wrist.
“She’s okay,” he says quickly, voice low but firm. “She’s just unconscious.”
Kym jerks in his grip, thrashing. “Let go of me. I swear to god, Liam—” Her voice breaks off in a growl. When she finally yanks free, she spins toward me.
“Are you insane? Why would you do that?”
I barely hear her.
Because suddenly I realize something’s wrong.
Something else.
I look past them, past the wreckage of the lawn, past Will’s body, and it hits me.
Paris and Anderson are gone.
Gone.
They were here just moments ago, but now…
“They’re gone,” I mutter, disbelieving.
Liam snaps his head around. “Is that seriously all you care about right now?”
I don’t answer. I don’t really care. I’m already scanning the shadows, the trees, the corners of the house.
They’re gone.
And it’s my fault.
For getting distracted.
“Addie,” Kym breathes, dropping to her knees beside her, hands shaking as she brushes the hair from her face.
I watch them.
All of them. Frantic. Scared. Angry.
They don’t get it.
I did what I had to.
Then I hear it.
Laughter.
Somewhere far off, maybe too close. Endless laughter. Mocking laughter.
I stagger back a step, my ears ringing. I press my hands to my head. Hard. Fingertips digging into my scalp.
“Shut up,” I whisper, but the laughing continues. “Shut up,” I say louder.
They’re laughing. They’re laughing at me.
“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”
“Kai,” Liam says carefully, eyes narrowing. “What is it?”
I can’t answer. It’s crawling inside me now.
The heat. The sound. The rage.
“They’re laughing,” I say, and I don’t recognize my own voice.
Christian is suddenly in front of me. He grips both my shoulders, hard, and forces me to meet his eyes. “Kai. Focus.”
“They’re laughing at me,” I breathe.
Christian doesn’t say anything for a second. And then his grip tightens. “You need to breathe, Kai.”
But I can’t. I’m not even sure I know how anymore. Because it’s happening again.
Everything slipping. Breaking. Burning.
I look down at my hands. At the blood, and the scarring. At the bruises across my knuckles.
“I thought I was holding something together,” I mutter, still staring down at them. “But my hands are empty.” My breath shakes. “Look at them.”
Christian doesn’t move.
“What was I doing?” I ask myself. The sky. The world. “What was ever there?”
And suddenly I’m moving. I shrug him off, stumbling toward the door. I can’t stay here. I need to go after them. I need it more than I’ve ever needed anything.
“Where are you going?” Liam shouts after me, already stepping into my path.
“Get off,” I snap. “Don’t make me hurt you.”
He doesn’t flinch. Instead, he grabs my arm.
I swing.
It’s fast, thoughtless. My fist collides with his cheekbone, hard. The sound it makes is sickening, and Liam staggers back, holding his face as blood spills from his nose.
Kym gasps behind me.
Christian shouts something I don’t catch.
The ringing’s too loud. The laughter’s back.
“You can’t go after them in this state!” Christian yells. “Kai, you could die!”
I don’t look at Liam—don’t let myself see the hurt, the betrayal, the blood.
“Don’t you understand why we can’t let you do this?” Liam rasps from behind me. “You matter to us. Please just—please think about what you’re doing. You’re our brother!”
For a second, just a second, I freeze.
But the moment passes, and I don’t turn around.
“That is your burden to bear,” I say quietly.
And I walk out the door.
***
I don’t stop.
Not for Lilia or Bea, who are already on their way to the backyard, voices raised. Not for my father, who calls after me with something that might’ve been my name.
Not for Berlin. Or Sue. Or Merrick.
The keys dig into my palm before I’ve even reached the car, and I’m already pulling the door shut behind me by the time I hear footsteps—someone yelling for me to wait.
I don’t.
I don’t wait for anyone.
Not anymore.
The engine growls to life beneath me, and then I’m off, tearing down the road, the tires screaming around corners. They can’t have gotten that far.
I don’t know how long I’ve been driving. Minutes. Hours.
Time folds in on itself when your mind’s fractured and your purpose is burning. I just keep moving—one street to the next.
And then my phone rings. I almost don’t look. Almost let it go.
But then I see the name.
Paris.
I answer.
There’s nothing at first—just breath. Rough, uneven breathing.
“I-I knew you’d follow me,” she says finally.
My eyes snap to the road and spot her car. Just ahead. Parked sideways at the edge of a crumbling streetlight.
Of course it is.
I ease my foot off the gas and coast up beside it, and the moment she sees me, she pulls out. No hesitation.
“You baited me,” I mutter, not even trying to hide the venom in my voice.
“It was the o-only way to get y-you out of that house,” she says. “You needed to come. I-I needed you to come.”
“For what?” I laugh, but it’s empty. Ugly. “You think there’s anything left in you that I want?”
“Revenge.”
The heat inside me flares, and my grip on the wheel tightens until the tendons in my hands scream. “Explain.”
“I can give it to you,” she says. “Anderson is w-with me right now. I’ll l-let you have him.”
I hear the grunting on the other end of the line. Muffled, like someone tied up and struggling. Pathetic.
I roll my eyes.
“I’ll tell y-you,” she continues, “on one condition.”
My jaw tightens. “And that is?”