Chapter 40
KAI
I banged my hand on the wheel of my car, the sound sharp in the small space.
The steering wheel jerked under my grip as I shook it back and forth, the leather groaning in protest. The anger came fast - too fast - burning through me before I could stop it.
I hadn’t meant to push. I hadn’t wanted to push him away. And yet that’s exactly what I’d done by asking those stupid, intrusive questions.
He told me he didn’t want to talk about it. He told me. And I still went there.
I dropped my forehead against the wheel, breath coming out in a rough exhale. My hands were still trembling, the adrenaline refusing to settle.
It’s just… when I saw him with his mum - the way he spoke to her, the way he held her hair back without flinching, the way he put the bucket beside her head with practised ease, like he’d done it a hundred times.
That was when it hit me. This was bigger than anything I’d been expecting. Bigger than anything I knew how to deal with.
And I didn’t know how to cope with that.
I tried to act casual in front of him. I tried not to panic. But inside, I was unravelling.
I wanted to hold him. I wanted to take him anywhere but there. And I hated myself a little for how badly I wanted that.
What did that say about me?
About these feelings I’d been trying to hide, shove down, pretend weren’t there?
But it didn’t even feel like it was about that anymore. It wasn’t about liking him or not liking him. It wasn’t about whatever was happening between us.
I only cared that he was safe. And I had a feeling he wasn’t.
But he didn’t want to be helped. He made that painfully clear.
Hell, he probably didn’t want me anywhere near him.
I leaned back in the seat, staring at the ceiling of my car. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped a fist around my ribs and squeezed.
There was something about that house. Something about the cracks in the walls, the numerous dents in the doors, the way the wallpaper peeled like it was trying to escape. Something that made my skin crawl.
Alex was so small. So timid. So jumpy.
And the thought - the horrible, twisting thought - that he might’ve been in the room when his brother destroyed things…
I gripped the wheel again, knuckles whitening.
I hoped - more than anything - that he wasn’t. That he never had been. That the marks on his arm were from anything else. Anything .
But the way he flinched when I asked… The way he shut down… The way he pushed me out like he was protecting something… someone …
It scared me. More than I wanted to admit.
I closed my eyes, swallowing hard.
I didn’t want to leave him. But I had. Because he asked me to.
And now all I could think about was the look on his face when I walked out the door - the way he wouldn’t meet my eyes, the way his voice cracked, the way he folded into himself like he was bracing for something.
I rested my head back against the seat, staring at the dark street ahead.
I barely knew him. But I cared. God help me, I cared.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
I’d never felt this helpless before.
Never felt this angry at myself for saying the wrong thing.
Never felt this scared for someone I barely knew.
Barely knew . And yet he was all I could think about.
The heavens opened again, rain spilling across the windshield in soft, uneven streaks. The sound should’ve been calming, steady, familiar. Instead it only made the knot in my stomach tighten.
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to leave him there.
But I didn’t know how to stay either.