Chapter 38
The sunlight streaming through the crack in the curtains burns my eyes and I roll over with a groan, throwing an arm over my face to block out the light as I snuggle back under the covers.
The shower turns on next door and I smile, tempted to join him. The ache between my legs has images of last night coming back to me and I’m all too happy to relive it.
Killian was in a strange mood when he came back from his club meeting and he spent most the night buried inside me—as he is most nights—but last night felt different.
He made love to me slowly, taking his time to drag every ounce of pleasure out of us both. It was deep and intimate and it almost felt like he loved me. Expressing his feelings through words doesn’t come easily to him, and it felt like he was showing me rather than telling me he loved me.
My stomach flutters at the thought.
My phone buzzes on the bedside table behind me and I blindly reach back for it, feeling around for it with my eyes squeezed shut until I feel the cool metal beneath my fingers.
I tap the screen, squinting open an eye against the harshness of the light that floods the room. Only it’s not my phone, it’s Killian’s, and the text message on the screen has my heart slamming to a halt in my chest.
I prop myself up against the headboard, bringing the sheet up to cover my naked chest. I re-read the message twice, three times and still the words don’t seem to make sense.
Photos?
What photos?
My mind races, my brain firing in a thousand different directions trying to make sense of all of it and the only thing I can come up with, the only viable explanation leads me to…
No.
He wouldn’t. Would he?
I unlock the screen, finding there’s no password stopping me from going further. My stomach churns, hating the fact I’m invading his privacy by snooping through his phone, but I have to know for sure.
I open up his gallery. It’s full of photos of tattoos he’s done and screenshots of motorcycles and tattoo designs but an album catches my attention.
It’s untitled, but the thumbnail image has my heart shuddering to a halt in my chest.
My hands shake as I open up the album, terrified of what’s inside.
I’m confronted by pictures of me. Half a dozen of them.
Naked ones.
I click on the first one and it fills the screen.
It’s the one I sent him that first night during our phone call.
I swipe across to the next one, the one I sent wearing his kutte.
It’s followed by one I don’t recognise. I’m asleep in his bed, naked except for the sheet barely covering me, one of my breasts on full display, blissfully unaware my privacy is being violated, ignorant to the fact my trust for Killian is being broken with every click of his camera.
The realisation of what I’m learning sinks like a lead weight in my stomach. A part of me doesn’t want to believe it, but everything in front of me proves what I suspected.
He used me.
He’s been using me from the start and lying to me this whole time, pulling every single moment since the first time we met into question.
Was any of it real?
Was it all one big conspiracy?
Was it all a lie?
I can’t tear my eyes away from the photos staring up at me from the phone, a tear slipping down my cheek.
He was going to use them to blackmail my father, use them to get to my father and force him to back off from the club. Hell, he could use them against me if he wanted to. And I played right into his hands.
How did I not see it?
I’m such an idiot.
I was a fool to think that Killian Hunt could possibly love someone like me?
The shower turns off, reminding me where I am.
I climb out of bed and throw on a pair of leggings and a sweater before dragging my suitcase out from under the bed and toss it onto the mattress with a bounce. I cross the room and rummage through the closet and the drawers for my things, stuffing them into my case without bothering to fold them.
I’m too angry to care.
The bedroom door opens and I don’t bother to look up. In my periphery, I see him enter the room, a towel secured around his waist.
He stops just inside the doorway when he sees me packing. “What’s going on?”
I turn my back as I head for the dresser where various toiletries and makeup items sit. I scoop them into my arms against my chest.
“Baby, where you going? Why are you packing?” I don’t miss the panic in his voice, the confusion.
I drop my things into my case with a clatter before I pick up his phone and round the bed. I thrust it against his bare chest still dripping with water with a slap. “This is why.”
He takes his phone from my hand and all the colour drains from his face as he takes in the photos. His hand tightens around his phone as his eyes lift to mine. “It’s not what you think.”
“Oh, really?” I fold my arms across my chest. “Well, according to the text Jett just sent you, Cruiser has something that’s going to crucify my father more than your photos could,” I paraphrase.
“I didn’t mean to read your text, I thought it was my phone when I picked it up, but I think we’re beyond respecting privacy now, don’t you think? ”
He runs a hand through his beard, his eyes turning heavy. “I’m sorry.”
“For what? Getting caught? Fuck you, Killian!”
He reaches for me but I put up my hand to stop him. I can’t even bring myself to look at him.
“Don’t. Don’t you dare fucking touch me,” I spit, my eyes burning with angry tears.
“Kaia, please. Just hear me out. I never wanted it to come to this. I was going to tell you.”
I bark a laugh. “Oh, really? When? You’ve had more than enough opportunities to come clean in between fucking me, but that was your plan all along wasn’t it? Fuck my father by fucking me, right?” I grab the last few of my belongings, throwing them into my suitcase.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like? You know what? Don’t bother, I can’t do this right now. I can’t even bring myself look at you.” I slam my suitcase closed and zip it up. “I need to get out of here.”
“Butterfly, please.”
“Don’t call me that.” The term of endearment that once set my heart racing now feels like a dagger being driven through it.
I drag my case off the bed and it hits the floor with a clunk. I head for the bedroom door, only Killian’s there, blocking my path. “Get out of my way, Killian.”
He doesn’t budge. “Not until you hear me out.”
“I said move!” I shove at his chest, but his hands circle my wrists and I’m spun around until my back collides with the wall. He towers over me. Struggling against him is useless. My hands are pinned either side of my head as he cages me in.
“Look at me.” It’s not a demand, it’s not a question. It’s a plea.
After a long moment, I force my eyes up to his.
I hate the look of sadness in them, the unmistakable tears that well in them.
How dare he be upset.
“I never intended it to come to this. I was never supposed to—”
“Never what? Never intended for me to learn the truth? Never intended to take those photos of me to use against my father?”
“To fall in love,” he continues, his grip on my wrists easing.
“Don’t.” My voice cracks. So does my heart.
I’ve hoped of hearing those words for so long, but hearing them now only adds to the anger raging inside me, only heightens the pain in my chest. It’s as if he’s ripped open my chest cavity, took my still-beating heart in his fist and is squeezing the life out of it.
“I never intended to fall in love with you, Kaia.”
“I said don’t!” I shout, doing my best to cover the tremor in my voice. “Why are you doing this? Isn’t it enough you’ve been using me this whole time, you have to toy with my heart too?”
One hand moves to cup my face while the other takes one of mine and lays it flat against his chest directly over his heart. It beats erratically beneath my touch. “This, us. It’s real. Everything I ever said to you, everything we shared was real.”
Oh my god. He actually believes the lies that come out of his mouth.
“Why should I believe anything you say?” I shove against his chest and this time he lets me go, his hands dropping to his sides in defeat as he takes a reluctant step back, allowing me past.
I grab hold of my suitcase and leave the room, forcing back the tears I’ve been fighting as I descend the stairs, my case trailing behind me, clunking with every step I take.
“Kaia, wait,” he calls after me just as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
My hand settles on the front door handle. “You can’t stop me leaving.”
“I won’t force you to stay, I’d never force you to do anything,” he says, reaching for a set of keys from the hook on the wall beside my head. “Take my truck. It’s freezing out there and I need to know you’re safe.”
“I don’t need anything from you,” I snap.
“You either take it or I drive you wherever you’re going myself. It’s your choice. Please.”
As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. It’s bitterly cold outside and I don’t have a coat thick enough to keep me warm. I snatch the keys from his hand and tug open the front door but I stop when my eyes fall on the bracelet around my wrist.
I pull it off and turn, grabbing Killian’s hand and placing it in his open palm. “You can have this back. Clearly it didn’t mean what I thought it meant.” And without another word, I walk out, leaving him watching from the doorstep.
I throw my suitcase onto the flatbed of his truck before climbing in behind the wheel.
My chin trembles but I lock my jaw, willing myself not to cry, especially in front of him. I don’t want him to see what he’s reduced me to.
After the engine rumbles to life beneath me, I shove it into drive and back out of the driveway and it takes every ounce of strength inside me to not look in the rear view mirror as I peel away.
“How could he do this to me, Fi?” I’m curled up on the couch in her tiny apartment, my legs pulled up tight against my chest.
My eyes are sore and my head is throbbing from the tears that have flowed and kept on flowing ever since I showed up on her doorstep half an hour ago.
The second I saw my best friend I couldn’t hold them back.
It was like someone turned on a faucet and left it running as all of the pain inside poured out of me.
Sofia paces the rug in front of me restlessly, the anger radiating off her in waves. “I’ve got half a mind to go over there and rip his fucking balls from his body.”
She pulls a laugh out of me. “You actually would, wouldn’t you?”
She turns to me and quirks an eyebrow. “Babe, you know me better than anyone, of course I would. No man treats my bestie like that and remains intact.”
“I just can’t wrap my head around it. I believed every word. Was I an idiot? Should I have seen this coming?”
She crosses the space and drops down beside me, resting a hand on my knee. “You’re not an idiot, babe. This is not your fault. This is all on him. I knew he could be an asshole, but this…”
“All of the guys knew, they must’ve.” It all makes so much sense. How Mac insisted I go with you to the bar that first night, the job… everything. It was all orchestrated to lure me in so Killian could wear me down.”
Wait…
My eyes snap up to hers. “Did you know?”
“What?” She flinches like I’ve slapped her across the face. “Of course not. Babe, you’re my best friend, I’d never do that to you. If I’d known what they were planning, I’d never have taken you to The Ape Hanger that night.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry I—” I bury my face in my hands. “It just feels like everyone was in on the joke except me. It’s not the photos that hurts the most, it’s that he let me think what we had was real. He was manipulating me from the first moment we met.”
“I’m gonna ask you a question, and don’t bite my head off but… Do you think there’s the slightest chance he loves you?”
“What?” She’s changed her tune in the last thirty seconds.
“I saw the way Killian looked at you, the way he acted around you. We all did. He let you stay at his house, he let you ride on the back of his bike, he made you a bracelet. He kissed you. He’s either the best actor to have ever lived or he’s crazy about you and has a shitty way of showing it.”
“He told me he’s in love with me,” I say.
Her chin hits the floor. “Holy shit. Seriously? He said that?”
I nod. “He told me before I left, like it would magically make me change my mind and stay. Told me he didn’t intend to fall in love with me.”
“Do you believe him?” she asks.
“Do you?” I counter.
She sighs. “A tiny part of me does. He’s different with you. He’s not the same person he was bef—”
“Then how could he do something like this?”
“Because men are idiots and they don’t know when they’ve got a good thing until it’s gone. The more important question is, do you love him?”
My eyes well with fresh tears. “So much,” I confirm, my voice wavering. “I should hate him, and despite everything he’s done, I don’t.”
She shuffles across the couch and envelopes me in a hug. “Men suck. And love hurts, but that’s the beauty of it, I guess.”
I rest my head on her shoulder. “What do I do?”
“I guess you take some time to decide if you love him enough to forgive him, or let him go. Or you can let me rip his balls off, I’ll happily do it.”
“I can’t bring myself to think about that right now. Anyway, shouldn’t you be at work?”
She checks her phone and shrugs. “Yeah, but my bestie needs me. So we’re gonna order takeout, consume enough sugar to give us diabetes and watch a shit-ton of cheesy movies instead.”
“Thank you. I really don’t wanna be alone right now.”
She types away on her phone. “Good thing you have a bestie willing to ditch work for the day and spend it with you then, isn’t it?”
“Fi, you really can’t ditch work for me.”
She drops her phone onto the couch. “I can and I just did, so I’m all yours for the rest of the day.”