Chapter 19
KAYLA
“What do you mean, you’re leaving?” Eriu pouts, still dancing, while a grumpy Devlin shoots daggers at another guy she’s now dancing with.
“Yeah, I have a headache. Went outside for a bit to get some air, but it’s not going away.”
“Oh, no!” she yells over the still blaring music. “Okay, I get it. I’ll probably go in a bit too.”
“Get home safe.” I give her a quick hug, and from behind me, I watch Devlin approach us.
He gives me a curt nod as I separate from Eriu.
“We’re leaving, Eriu.” His Irish brogue is hard to miss.
“I’m not done yet.” She pops a brow, grabbing the guy’s hand and starting to dance.
Devlin’s jaw clenches, his blue eyes simmering with danger.
Clearly Devlin has a lot more self-control than I realized. But he looks ready to lose it, and fast. I’d be kinda worried right now if I was Eriu.
“Like hell, you’re not.” Before my eyes can comprehend what’s happening, he flips the guy’s hand back until he mutters a curse and runs away like he’s on fire.
Her eyes burst wide. “What are you doing?”
But she doesn’t get an answer. Instead, he lifts her in the air by her hips and throws her over his shoulder, carrying her out of there.
“At least he’s touching you!” I giggle as her horrified expression locks with mine until she disappears from view.
Deciding that five minutes are up, I head for the exit, pushing through hordes of sweaty bodies, trying to get out of this hellhole.
Cool air hits my face as soon as I rush out of the doors. Scanning for a black SUV, I don’t see one until it catches my eye from the left, a few cars away.
Quickly, I rush over, crossing the street carefully until I’m pulling open his door. And this time he’s wearing that damn mask like he said he would, with that hood on. I can’t even see his hair, except for a bit in the front, the dark strands teasing me.
He looks my way for a few seconds before he puts the car in drive and gets us the hell out of there.
We ride in silence for a few minutes before I ask, “How long until we get there?”
“About forty-five.”
That has me wondering where he lives. That’s around the distance to my home.
“How far away do we live from each other?”
“Give or take?” he muses playfully. “Ten to fifteen.”
My eyes widen.
“Does it bother you to know I’m always near?”
He wants me to be bothered. I can tell from his voice.
“No. I just… I didn’t realize you lived by me.”
But I like knowing he’s close. That he’s watching me. It’s comforting.
He doesn’t say anything after that, driving in silence while I stare out the window, watching the streetlights flicker until my eyelids grow heavy.
The next thing I know, we’re pulling up to a two-story brick colonial with dark shutters and a wraparound white fence. I rub at my eyes and look back at him.
“Morning, princess.” He chuckles all leathery soft, yet set with a darkened edge. But everything about him is dark and eerie.
“I didn’t realize I fell asleep.” I yawn into my opened palm, staring out the window. “Nice house.”
The home is large, yet not overly so. Somehow fitting for him.
“Glad you approve. Now let’s go inside.”
“Oh my God. My car. I completely forgot about it.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll bring it back to your place tomorrow before you wake up.” His palm lands on my upper thigh and squeezes.
Images of him throwing me up against the wall, touching me, tasting me, come roaring back. I can make them out in my head as though I can see them. Recreating them from the feeling of him on my skin.
“You have my car key?”
“Of course.” His bemused tone has me angrier by the second. “I made myself a copy.”
“Are you serious?! Let me guess, you also have a key to my place?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“Oh. My. God. You are insane!”
“You’re finally catching on.” He chuckles, looking my way, chest rising and falling steadily, making my pulse rise. “It’s for your protection, Kayla.” He grows serious. “I want to be able to get to you, no matter what. I want to keep you safe.”
A lump lodges in my throat, but I fight it. These stupid emotions, this sinking feeling that I could possibly mean something to him. But nothing can happen between us, not when he’s still hiding.
“Right. For my protection,” I scoff. “You’re no better than everyone else, trying to cage me and treat me like a child.”
Grabbing the door handle, I push it open and march toward his place.
His heavy footfalls sound behind me, but instead of appearing by my side, he yanks my wrist hard and pulls my body up against his. His arm loops around the small of my back.
“Don’t do that.” His harsh, yet vulnerable tone makes me yearn for everything he has to say. “Don’t be mad at me. I don’t think about you that way at all, babe.”
His hand brushes down the side of my face, and my heart… It leaps, throbbing with pummeling beats. I place my palm over his hand, and my skin heats up instantly like he’s the warmth keeping the fire lit in my heart.
“The thought of something happening to you, and me being unable to get to you…” His words drown out in the pain I register in every word. “It’s why I did it. But if you want them back, I’ll give you the keys.”
He wanted to protect me. In his own messed-up way, he cares.
“No.” I shake my head. “Keep them.” I throw my arms around him and sigh. “You were gonna keep them anyway, weren’t you?”
He chuckles, curling his arm around me just a little tighter. “Of course I was.”
I snicker, slapping him playfully on the chest before I pry myself out of his grasp and start toward his door. He sidles up beside me and grabs my small hand in his enormous one, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. But the weight of it, the enormity of its meaning, is beyond measure.
He freezes, both of us breathing heavy, both of us facing forward as though realizing at the same time that we both somehow mean something to one another.
Tingles rush up my arm as his thumb slowly rubs my skin, and my gaze widens, tears stinging my eyes.
Because he doesn’t get it. He doesn’t comprehend what this small gesture just did to my soul.
My chin trembles, and tears start to fall, dripping from my lashes.
I try not to cry. I swear I try to fight it, but it’s too much. A small whimper escapes.
“Kayla…” He sighs, and it only makes me cry even more, trying my best to keep it silent, to keep him from seeing the weakest parts of me.
I can’t say anything back, all words lost to the breaking of my heart. Because I can’t fall for this stranger, this man who keeps more secrets than even I do. Yet somehow, I think I am. I think I have. I think I like my stalker. A little too much. And I think he likes me too.
Clearing my throat, I pull on his hand.
“Come on.” I throw on a lighthearted tone. “I want to see my gift already.”
But I fail to sound like I didn’t just cry.
He stays still, unmoving, holding my palm even tighter.
“You make it so easy to wanna kiss you.” He exhales roughly, causing my breath to still in my lungs.
“We’re not in a closet anymore,” I whisper.
“We can change that.” He yanks me to him again, like I’ve always belonged here.
“I think what would be better is for you to show me who you are and kiss me in the light.”
“You are the light, Kayla Jenkins. All I see is darkness without you.”
My heart unfurls with so many emotions. It’s moments such as these when I so badly wish to see him.
He clasps his hand over my cheek, the span of it holding the entire side of my face. We stay this way for a few moments before he pulls me forward, like it’s too much to be this way with me.
With my heavy sigh, we make it past the door he opens and into his home.
“This way,” he instructs, leading me past a side table with a small vase and fresh lilies.
The house is dark, except for a few flickers of light coming from the two lamps he left on.
“We’re going into the basement.”
“You do realize that this is how many scary movies start, right?” I’ve been catching up on all of them since I’ve been out.
“Promise I’m not here to kill you,” he laughs.
“That’s probably what every murderer wants you to think.”
“I guess we’ll find out.” He inclines his head as he leads me toward the staircase. “You first.” His arm outstretches toward it.
I’m not even nervous as I head down the brightly lit space. Whatever he has to show me is bound to be good. I just know it.
He follows closely, footsteps thundering behind me.
“Why is the gift down here?” I ask, glancing behind me for a moment.
“They were too big to carry.”
My brows furrow as I make it past the final step. But as soon as my eyes take in the four bodies lying over a plastic tarp, my pulse increases.
The realization finally sinks in.
“Two of the men are the ones who took you that day.” His face drops to my ear. “And now they’re yours to do with whatever you see fit.”
He throws an arm over my shoulders and tugs me to him.
“Think of them as a blank canvas, and you’re the painter, the sculptor, their fucking god,” he snaps through gritted teeth. I can practically hear them rattling.
I spin around and clasp the side of his throat; my emotions bubbling out of me. Tears fill my eyes, my heart beating so quickly I’m afraid I’ll grow dizzy.
“You did all of this? For me?”
He nods. “They hurt you. That was enough.”
I throw my arms around his large body, fisting his shirt, my cheek lying against his chest while I cry.
I feel him as he holds me in his embrace, so gently it doesn’t quite fit, except it also does. Because this is him too: this man who hunts with me, yet holds me when I cry.
“How did you do it?” I wonder.
He’d have had to break them out of prison. That’s not an easy thing to do.