Chapter 9 #2
I cut him off with a shake of my head. I’m not done.
Now that I’ve cracked the past open, it’s all rushing out of me like vomit.
“Then there was my first real relationship. College. First semester. I thought I was grown, thought I was smart. But he was twelve years older than me. A professor.” I swallow, eyes dropping to the countertop.
“Not one of mine, but he knew exactly what he was doing. Flirted. Pushed. Used every ounce of his authority to blur lines until I was too tangled to see straight. He made me think I wanted things I wasn’t ready for.
And when I finally saw it, when I finally tried to pull back, it was too late.
I wasn’t me anymore. I was his pawn. And I hated myself for it. ”
The words scrape raw out of me, and I realize my nails are biting into my palms.
I drag in a shaky breath and force my eyes up to meet his.
“So, when you wonder why I do it—why I kill men like Travis Bell, like the others—it’s because I’ve seen the dark side of men with power my whole damn life.
I can’t stomach watching them keep getting away with it. Not when I can do something.”
For the first time, Kade looks… shaken. His jaw is tight, his throat bobbing like he’s swallowing glass. He leans forward, elbows braced on the counter, like he wants to close the distance but doesn’t dare yet.
“I don’t think you’re a monster,” he says finally, voice gravel rough. “I think you’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”
And holy shit, I want to believe him. My entire body shakes with it. Something bites at the backs of my eyes, threatening to pool. But I won’t let it. Kade is looking at me like I’m a damn warrior goddess.
For a long moment, the silence stretches. I hate silence. It gives space for regret to sneak in. For shame to stretch its claws back into me. But Kade doesn’t look away. His eyes are so sharp, so alive, like he’s memorizing every syllable I just gave him.
“I didn’t think I’d ever find someone with a history as fucked up as mine.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
He leans back on the stool, drags a hand down his jaw, the scrape of stubble loud in the quiet.
“Let’s just say I didn’t exactly grow up in the Brady Bunch.
My family… they were into things. Illegal things.
” His lips curve in a wry smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Think less white picket fence, more crime syndicate.”
My brows rise, but I don’t say anything.
“They were taking me down a path I didn’t want,” he continues.
“You’re driven by justice. That wasn’t the case with my family, and I saw it for what it really was, the older I got.
Didn’t really matter what I wanted. They weren’t big on choice.
They wanted me locked into their world, their business.
Their rules.” He shakes his head, looking out the window like maybe he’ll see the ghosts he left behind reflected in the Strip’s neon.
“If I’d stayed, I wouldn’t be here. I’d either be in prison or six feet under.
That’s not dramatic. That’s just the math. ”
There’s a bitter edge in his voice, but beneath it—a weariness. Like carrying this history has carved something heavy into his bones.
The pieces are starting to fit together, just a little bit. He’s still left most of them out. He’s still keeping some of his cards close to his chest. But he’s giving me glimpses.
Not-Kade leans forward, elbow braced on the countertop, every inch of his focus aimed at me.
“Maybe now you see why I protect my identity like my life depends on it. Because it does. If the wrong people knew where to find me…” He lets it trail off.
He doesn’t have to finish. I can fill in the blanks.
And suddenly, I do understand. Why he hides behind masks and smoke. Why even his name tastes false on my tongue. Why I’ve never met anyone more impossible to pin down.
For the first time, I don’t just see the magician, the acrobat, the obsessive stalker with the green eyes that undo me—I see the survivor.
“Thank you for sharing this with me,” I say, my words low and hoarse, like I’m speaking a secret. “And just so you know, none of what you just told me is going in the blackmail folder.”
Mutual blackmail. That’s how we started. What kept us at bay.
We’ve both just given each other more ammo. More details. More reasons to put the other in jail or be exposed.
But it isn’t about that anymore. Not for me. And as I look into Not-Kade’s eyes, not for him either, I think.
“I never actually started one, Willow,” he says.
He stands from his seat, and when he takes my hand, I let him.
He leads me to the living room, to that wildly comfortable couch that looks out at Sin City.
It’s almost like we both need space after dropping pieces of ourselves on the floor like glass shards.
The floor-to-ceiling windows let in all the neon of the night, the light painting his profile in sharp angles.
I sink into the cushions, crossing my legs under me, trying to gather my composure. He sits beside me, but not too close. A respectful distance. A torturous distance.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence is thick, weighted with everything we’ve just admitted. Then, finally, his eyes come back to me.
“I can’t stop thinking about you, Willow.”
The words slam into me like a confession he’s been holding back for years instead of hours.
I smile, a small and controlled thing, because that’s safer than melting. “That sounds like something a stalker would say.”
He smirks, leaning back on the couch, stretching out his long body.
“Oh, I’m definitely a stalker. Don’t think for a second I’m not aware of it.
” His green eyes catch mine, playful and piercing all at once.
“But it doesn’t make it less true. I can’t stop thinking about you, Willow Vale.
Every time I close my eyes, you’re there.
Even when I try not to. Especially when I try not to. ”
My chest aches. Because I feel it, too.
“I’m still not sure I understand why.” My voice comes out a whisper, rougher than I mean it to. “You know what I am. What I’ve done.”
He turns slightly, his arm stretching along the back of the couch, closer now, like he wants me to see the truth in his eyes.
“Because you’re the first person I’ve met in years who doesn’t feel fake.
Who doesn’t hide. Who doesn’t apologize for existing.
You terrify me, Willow. And you fucking thrill me.
And every bone in me knows you’re worth it. ”
My throat goes tight. Nobody, no one, has ever said anything like that to me.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I shift forward onto my knees and crawl across the cushions.
Holding his gaze the entire time, feeling like the air is growing thicker, more electric by the moment, I lift a leg over him and straddle his hips.
As I settle into his lap, I try not to think about the fact that it feels like I was carved to fit exactly right here.
His breath catches. My heart hammers so hard it’s a miracle he can’t feel it through my entire body.
His green eyes are locked on mine, waiting. He’s following my lead.
Panic wants to take me over. Whispers of the past are in the back of my brain. I’m struggling to stay in the present and not fall back into that office, that closet, his car. Embarrassment and shame are raking their claws along the back of my scalp, telling me to stop.
But staring at this man who has shared so many of his own gray-zone truths breaks me free.
Fuck the past.
I press my lips to his.
I’ve forgotten what it feels like to physically touch someone else. How hot someone’s lips can feel. How pliant skin is.
But my entire body lights on fire when he kisses me back.
It’s tender. It’s hesitant for just a moment. And then I kiss him again. My hands come up to either side of his neck and I anchor myself onto the most beautiful man on the damn planet.
The hesitation in Kade begins to evaporate. At first, it’s like testing the edges of a blade. But finally, his hands rise. They settle into my hips. His fingers tighten slowly as my lips part and I taste him. His tongue dances with mine, and his grip tightens in the best way.
The breath in my chest catches as something sparks in me. Want. I haven’t felt want in so long.
But no, it’s actually more than that.
This is fucking need.
A moan slips over my lips as I rock my hips against him, just slightly, and I kiss him harder. His hands are grounding me like I’m something precious instead of something sharp. And instead of feeling like manipulation, like coercion, they feel like… devotion. They feel like a safe landing place.
And it all just drives me hotter. My lips part again, his tongue grazes mine, and the world narrows to this tiny little space in the universe where his hands fit me like he’s memorized every bit of me already.
It’s dizzying. Terrifying. Addictive.
For one beautiful, reckless moment, I forget the blood on my hands, the secrets between us, the weight of everything we’re not saying. There’s just this: me, him, and the fire we’ve been circling since the second our eyes met through that window.
But as I grind myself against him—I feel it. The cold climbing up my throat. The pit in my stomach. I feel the edge. The danger of going too far. My shame claws up from the past, whispering what happens if I lose control, if I let this go where it’s going. My body stiffens.
Maybe I can’t just say fuck the past and get over a decade of trauma in a few moments.
Kade notices. He slows, gentles the kiss, pulls back just enough to press his forehead against mine. My chest is heaving like I’ve just sprinted the length of the Strip.
“There is no rush, Willow,” he says. His words are rough, shaking, but filled with sincerity.
I meet his green eyes, only a breath away.
The man is about ready to detonate. His whole body is trembling with wild heat and ragged lust. But I see self-control in his eyes.
I see conviction. “I don’t want to fuck this up.
I want you. All of you. And I’ll take my time, Willow.
However long it takes. I’m not going anywhere.
So please, don’t feel rushed even one second faster than you want to go. ”
My eyes sting. The relief that floods me is almost violent. My body loosens in his hold. I think something in my nervous system rewires just a little.
“You mean that?” I ask, even though I can see it in every inch of him that he does.
“Every word,” he says, flames practically burning in his eyes.
And for the first time in years, I believe someone. He brushes his thumb over my cheekbone, soft and reverent, like he can’t believe I’m real. I actually smile, feeling my body relax as the wicked adrenaline burning me alive dissipates.
And then my phone vibrates from my back pocket.
A chuckle pulls from Kade at the same time I groan against him, forehead pressed to his. “If that’s a spam call about my car warranty—”
He laughs, the thing low in his throat. “What if it’s something important?”
I groan again as I pull my phone from my pocket and see Opal’s name. I slide off his lap, feeling bereft the second I’m not touching him, and swipe the call.
Opal’s voice is chaos incarnate. “Wiiiillooooow. Oh, my Hecate. The street is breathing. Did you know that streets could breathe? And the sounds! The palm trees are singing. I think this one just whispered that I have a great ass.”
My eyes widen, and I sit up straighter. “Opal. What did you take?”
“I don’t knooow, but Iris left out some jars, and they didn’t have labels.
I wanted some tea, so I just mixed some up.
But I’m fine. Totally fine. Except my shoes ran away.
And my friends ditched me because I tried to explain to them that we’re all just vibration in mother divine’s salad bowl. Can you come pick me up?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. Iris’s teas. Fantastic. She must’ve grabbed one of the shroom-infused batches. Opal is tripping. Hard.
“I’ll be there,” I sigh. I don’t ask for her address; I have her location in Find My. “Stay put, Opal.”
“Okayyy, thank you, love you, bye!” she sing-songs happily, and the line goes dead.
Not-Kade is watching me with a smirk. “Let me guess. Drunk?”
“Worse. Fungal enlightenment.”
His laugh is warm, filling the sterile apartment with something alive. He stands, extending a hand to me, and pulls me up to my feet. “Let me drive you. Or go with you. No way you’re handling that circus solo.”
Tempting. So damn tempting. But I shake my head, gathering my scattered resolve.
“No, I… I need a minute to cool off. I’ve been thirsting over Saint Shade for months, and I just put my tongue down his throat.
And he grabbed my ass while making me pant like a dog in heat.
” My entire face flushes red at my own words, but I say them anyway, being brave once more. “I’ll take an Uber.”
“Fuck, Dagger Kitten,” he groans, his eyes going dark.
“You test every inch of my resolve.” He smirks, and I grin back, wildly thrilled that he wants me just as bad as I want him.
He doesn’t tease me further though. He just steps closer, slow and deliberate, until he’s right in front of me again.
“You cool off. But I’m not letting you walk out of here without this. ”
His hand comes up, fingers grazing under my chin, tilting my face to his. The kiss he gives me this time is brief, softer than the first—but somehow it guts me more.
When he pulls back, his voice is rough. “See me again tomorrow.” Not a question. A promise.
“Okay.” My mind is spinning too much for me to even think. I have no idea what the hell I have going on tomorrow. Hope I’m free.
We stand there for another beat, suspended in something fragile and electric. Then I tear myself away, heading for the door before my body does something stupid like tackle him back onto the couch.
He leans on the doorframe of his penthouse as I press the elevator button, grinning like a maniac. “Goodnight, Dagger Kitten.”
The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. I step inside and turn back around to face him. “Thanks for the perfect night, not-Kade.”