Chapter 12
I was shaking again, this time not from withdrawal. I was so scared—scared he wouldn’t believe me.
I stared at the gun. At his face. At Lena's pale, terrified expression.
I opened my mouth, but the words wouldn’t come out.
“Tell me.” Kael raised his voice, and it was terrifying.
My own voice came out sounding broken. "She's been... she's been saying things. And calling me names. For days. Telling me you don't want me. That I'm just a project. That you'll get bored and she'll be there to take my place."
Lena shook her head frantically. "That's not—I never—she's lying—"
"Quiet," Kael said quietly.
That tone was terrifying too. For such a handsome man, he could look so wicked.
Lena's mouth snapped shut.
I kept going, the words spilling out now like poison from a wound. "She's been twisting everything I say. Making me feel like I'm crazy. And today she said it again, and I just... I hit her."
I wiped blood from my lip with the back of my hand, tears streaming now. "I started it. I slapped her first. But she hit me back, and we fought, and I'm not... I'm not innocent in this. But I didn't start it for nothing, Kael. I swear to God, I didn't."
Lena screeched, "She's delusional! The withdrawal is affecting her memory! I've been nothing but professional—"
"Professional," Kael repeated slowly. He finally looked at her.
Lena flinched like the word had been a slap.
Kael took a step toward her. She backed up again, hitting the wall. He stood close enough to touch her and spoke in that same quiet, terrible voice.
"You called her names."
Lena's lips trembled. "I—"
"You told her I didn't want to see her."
"That's not—she misunderstood—"
"It’s not a fucking misunderstanding," he roared.
Lena was crying now, tears spilling down her cheeks. "Kael, please. I was just trying to help. I didn't mean it. I would never—"
"You put your hands on her."
"She hit me first—"
Kael turned his head slightly, looking at me over his shoulder. My split lip. My wild hair. The bruises forming on my arms where she'd grabbed me.
Then he looked back at Lena. "You're bigger than her," he said quietly. "You're sober. You're supposed to be a professional. And you hit her hard enough to bruise her pretty face."
Lena sobbed. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.”
Kael reached out and gently wiped a tear from Lena's cheek. She froze.
"Shhh," he whispered, almost kindly. "It's okay."
Lena let out a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging. My stomach dropped—he was going to let her go.
Then Kael's free hand moved from her cheek to her throat.
He grabbed her. Not gently. His fingers wrapped around her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air before she could even gasp. Lena's eyes bulged, her hands flying up to claw at his wrist, but he was too strong. He lifted her slightly, slamming her back against the wall with a dull thud.
"Kael—" I started, my voice cracking.
He didn't look at me.
Lena made a horrible sound, a wet choking gurgle, her face turning red and then purple as she struggled against him. Her nails raked down his forearm, leaving thin red lines, but he didn't even flinch.
"Look at her," he said, his voice low and cold as ice. "Look at what you did to her."
Lena's eyes darted toward me, tears streaming down her face. She tried to shake her head, tried to beg, but no sound came out except that terrible choking.
Kael watched her struggle for another moment, then let go.
Lena collapsed to the floor, gasping and sobbing, clutching her throat. She was on her hands and knees, coughing, sucking in ragged breaths like she'd never tasted air before.
Kael crouched down in front of her, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look at him.
“The only reason you're alive is because you know Zia, and I don’t want to deal with her.”
He stood up, stepping back from her crumpled form. He pointed toward the door with the gun. "Get out."
Lena scrambled to her feet, swaying, clutching her bruised throat. She stumbled toward the door, sobbing.
At the threshold, she stopped. She turned back, tears streaming down her face, her voice shaking. "I didn't mean—I was just trying to—I just like you."
Kael raised the gun.
Lena screamed, throwing her hands up to shield her face.
He just stood there, gun aimed at her head, his face completely blank. "I said get out," he said softly.
Lena ran.
The door slammed behind her. Her footsteps echoed down the hallway, then down the stairs, then the front door opened and closed, and then there was nothing but silence.
I hadn't even realized I was crying. I just sat there on the bed, shaking, my hands pressed to my mouth, tears streaming down my face.
Kael stood there for a moment, looking at the door. Then he tucked the gun back into his waistband and turned to me.
He crossed the room slowly. He knelt in front of the bed, bringing himself to my eye level. His hands came up to cup my face—gently this time, so gently, his thumbs wiping away my tears.
"You're safe now," he said softly. "She's gone. She won't come back."
I stared at him, my mind reeling. “Don’t feel sorry for her.”
He pulled me into him and held me like he was the one who needed comfort. I was terrified of him, but there was a feeling of gratitude right under the surface of that fear. He had choked and fired her for me. Sick, twisted, and wrong as it was—I also felt safer than I had in years.
"Look at me," he said softly, pulling back.
I did what he said.
“You feel better now?”
“Good,” he smiled. "I'm sending Rosa up with clean sheets and a proper meal. And I'm staying in the room with you tonight. I’ll be here to help you from now on—just me."