Chapter 33
Kaia’s sharp intake of breath cuts through the deafening silence filling the room, the air around us shifting the second the words leave my lips. It grows heavier, bearing down on me making it harder to breathe as the weight of my words settle over the both of us.
It’s the first time I’ve ever said those words out loud.
Besides Kaia, there is only one other person who knows the truth of what happened, he just decided to pretend it wasn’t.
It was easier for him to look the other way.
It’s a truth I’ve had locked up tight inside and shoved into the darkest corners of my mind, forcing myself to forget it ever happened but it was impossible.
The memories were always there. His face haunting my dreams at night, the images so vivid I wake up drenched in sweat imagining I was back in that tiny cell at the mercy of a monster.
I hold her gaze as the word sink in, her eyes turning glassy and red-rimmed while her chin trembles.
I drag my eyes away from her with a shake of my head. “Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
“The pity look.”
“I don’t pity you, Killian,” she says softly, laying a gentle hand on my arm. “I just… I care. I hate the thought of someone hurting you like that. I can’t wrap my head around it. Who was he?”
“His name’s Curt Naylor,” I continue, gritting my teeth as I speak his name out loud, memories flashing through my mind.
I reach across for Kaia’s hand to ground me, to remind me that’s all they are. Memories.
“A nasty son of a bitch,” I continue. “A murderer. He was my cellmate. I’ll spare you the details. You can use your imagination on the things he did to me, things he made me do to him.”
Just be a good boy and do as you’re told, you’ll enjoy it soon, killer…
Kaia’s hand slips from my arm as I rise from the couch. I cross the room, bracing myself against the oak mantle above the fireplace. I squeeze my eyes shut, his face flashing in my mind, memories resurfacing in my head, threatening to drag me back to that hell hole.
“It went on for months,” I say, forcing myself to continue. “I tried fighting back but it was useless. I just had to endure it. I guess being a kid made me an easy target and sharing a cell made it impossible to escape him. I was weak.”
“You were a teenager, barely younger than I am now and he took advantage of that. If you’d fought back, he could’ve quite easily killed you.”
It’s true. I was a scrawny kid with barely any muscle and he was built like a fucking tree. He could’ve snapped my neck like a twig and wouldn’t have broken into a sweat.
“Did anyone know what he was doing to you?”
“I told the warden of the prison. Begged for a transfer to another cell or another prison entirely, but he didn’t give a shit.”
“What?”
“Told me to keep my mouth shut. Said there was no proof, said it was my word against Naylor’s and that it was no less than I deserved after I killed my mom’s boyfriend.”
“But it was an accident. You were defending your mom,” Kaia protests.
“Didn’t matter. He saw me as a murderer.
A monster. An animal. And one day, that animal snapped.
I couldn’t take the abuse anymore. Couldn’t stomach the thought of spending the rest of my sentence forced to…
” I trail off, unable to say the words. “I started working out, slowly building up my strength. They had a workshop in prison, where inmates could work on mechanics, wood work, things like that. One day, I saw a jagged piece of metal sticking out of one of the shelves and I took it. If no one was gonna help me, I was sure as fuck gonna help myself, no matter the consequences.”
“What did you do?”
“When the lights went out, and he jumped off the top bunk, calling me over to him as he did almost every night, I hacked his rancid dick off with that shard of metal so he’d never be able to hurt me or anyone ever again.
He squealed like a pig and it was the best fucking sound in the world.
” A sick sense of pride swells in my chest as I recall that night.
The night I took back control. The night I stopped thinking of myself as a victim.
“Was worth the two extra years added onto my sentence. He swore he’d make me regret what I did, I guess this is where his revenge begins. ”
“I don’t understand, if he’s the one sending those messages, how is he doing it from prison?”
I move back to the couch, dropping onto the cushion beside her, taking her hand in between both of mine. “He’s not in prison. That’s where I went earlier. I went to confront him, but they told me he was released two weeks ago.”
“So what, he’s been watching us?”
“I guess so.”
She releases a shuddering breath. “Being watched by a convicted murderer with a grudge isn’t exactly a comforting thought.”
I stroke her hair behind her ear. “He won’t come near you, I swear. You’re safe with me, butterfly. Always.”
She grips my chin, guiding my face to hers, pressing her lips to mine. “And you’re safe with me. If he comes anywhere near you I won’t be held responsible for my actions.”
I chuckle. “I have a sneaking suspicion you can be a little firecracker when you wanna be.”
“Mm-hm, I’ve been known to crack a few nuts in my time.”
I bark a laugh.
She captures my mouth again, her fingers combing through my hair as her tongue skims the seam of my lips.
I fall into the kiss, deepening it as my tongue darts out to meet hers, only something changes.
Her spine stiffens as she breaks the kiss, a frown etched into her brow. “You were in Red Hook Penitentiary, right?”
Fuck, I didn’t expect her to piece it together so quickly. “Yeah.”
The cogs begin to turn in her mind and I see the moment it dawns on her, the realisation crashing over her like a wave. “My father was the warden there around that time.”
When I don’t respond, she must see the look on my face, confirming her suspicion and she chokes back a sound that’s a cross between a gasp and a cry.
“Oh my God!” she cries, pushing off the couch. “No. No, tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m wrong, Killian. Please.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
A cry catches in her throat. “I can’t believe this…”
“I’m sorry, butterfly.” I’m not entirely sure what I’m apologising for. For her father being an asshole? For her finding out this way? Or sorry that the only reason either of us are here right now, together, is because of what her father did all those years ago? Maybe it’s a blend of all three.
“No wonder you hate my father so much. It all makes so much sense now.” She paces the living room while chewing on her thumbnail. Her eyes dart across to me. “Is that why I’m here? Am I your way of pissing off my dad?”
My heart lurches in my chest. I go to open my mouth but she holds up a hand to silence me.
“Wait, don’t answer that.” She crosses the room and drops back down onto the couch beside me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I’m just lashing out.
” She closes the space between us, resting her head on my shoulder while her fingers link with mine.
“I know you’d never do something like that. ”
I swallow around the lump of guilt that’s lodged itself in my throat.
Tell her the truth.
Tell her about the photographs.
But I don’t.
I chicken out.
Because I’m not only a lying piece of shit, I’m also a coward too, afraid of losing her if she ever found out the truth.
I clear my throat. “I won’t lie and say that knowing he hates you being with me doesn’t give me a little satisfaction, because it does,” I confess.
“But you and me? This is real. It’s the realest thing I’ve ever felt in my life.
And it’s that reason I told you what that monster did to me.
I’ve never told anyone. Never trusted anyone enough.
” I brush a strand of hair behind her ear as tears sparkle in her eyes.
“I can’t tell you all of it, not yet. But I will. ”
“You don’t know how much it means to me that you trust me enough to open up. It means the whole world.”
She shifts onto my lap, straddling me and my hands reach for her hips on instinct.
“What’re you doing, butterfly?” I ask, peering up at her.
She shoots me a seductive smile as she reaches for the buttons of her shirt, undoing them one by one. “I want to make you feel good. To make you forget.”
My hands skim up her sides as the last button pops open and I can’t hold back my groan when her bare tits come into view.
I drag her harder against me, allowing me to take one of those rosy nipples into my mouth, my dick thickening in my jeans as she rolls her hips over me, her pussy grazing against me.
After carrying her upstairs to the bedroom, I strip her before making love to her, something I never did before her.
It’s slow and deep. I soak up each and every sound I draw out of her.
Revelling in the expressions of complete euphoria that cross her face.
Tracing every beautiful curve of her body with my hands, savouring every soft stroke of her tongue against mine, committing them all to memory.
I want to remember this. Because I have this sinking feeling inside that something is coming.
Something that will bring both our worlds crashing down around us.