Thirty-Three
Kat
How Soon Is Now? – The Smiths
The glow of morning light seeps through the curtains. I slowly open my eyes, squinting until they adjust. Pristine white sheets tangle around my bare legs, silk gliding over my skin when I shift—cool and soft, nothing like the cheap thrifted cotton sheets I’m used to.
I dare a glance at the clock on his nightstand and immediately regret it.
Seven in the fucking morning. I let out a groan as I roll over, drifting instinctively to Elias’s side of the bed.
It’s empty, but it’s still warm. The mattress sinks slightly beneath me, and the lingering heat from his body washes over me.
I press my cheek into his pillow without thinking, breathing in the mint and tobacco scent that still clings there.
I lie here for a moment, letting the residual warmth from him envelop me as the memories from last night wash over me.
My pussy aches in the best way, and I swear I can still feel his hands gripping my hips and his cock inside me.
The memory makes a dark heat coil low in my stomach, and the ache between my legs turns hot and needy.
I clench my thighs and roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling. My chest tightens as the realization hits me.
I feel safe.
My stomach flips at the thought. I inhale deeply, as if it’s the first full breath I’ve taken in over a year.
The feeling settles over me like a warm blanket.
He appeared to be in control last night, but was it all an act?
I can’t shake the feeling that I was in control the whole time.
The way he kept looking into my eyes for confirmation.
He actually fucking cares about me. Not to mention, since I’ve been staying here, I haven’t woken up in the middle of the night to check the deadbolts on the doors—in fact, it hasn’t even crossed my mind.
My stomach slowly starts to sink at the realization, and panic claws its icy tendrils around my chest. I can’t afford to be safe. I’ve been reckless, I’ve been comfortable. Two things I can’t afford to be. Two things that could put Elias in danger as much as me.
A memory coated in black threatens to cut through, but I push it down in a way I’ve mastered over the last year.
The smell of bacon and pancakes drifts into the room, and my stomach lets out a traitorous rumble. It pulls me out of the spiral just enough for my heartbeat to quieten.
I can’t let him go. Not yet.
No matter how much my brain screams at me, my heart is running into this with open fucking arms.
I slip on one of Elias’s shirts and make my way downstairs. The shirt is long but somewhat fitted, the sleeves falling over my hands and the hem brushing the tops of my thighs. I might as well be naked, but I feel completely comfortable.
Elias is at the stove, trying desperately to keep Freddie out of the pan of bacon. The little ball of fluff chirps and jumps onto his shoulder. I guess I’m the spare human now.
“Morning, beautiful,” Elias says, placing a small stack of pancakes onto two plates.
“Morning, handsome,” I mirror, giving him a small kiss.
Freddie nudges my face, and I oblige with scratches.
Sitting down at the island, I take a bite of my pancakes. The salty and sweet taste makes me let out a soft groan. I fucking love pancakes, and I’m sure Elias knows that. I’m sure he doesn’t eat pancakes every morning with a body like that.
Which means he made them for me.
Warmth blooms in my chest at the thought, and I realize I’m staring at him. A quick dash of something passes over his face, too quick to understand.
“I’ll never get tired of seeing you in my clothes.” A small noise rumbles in his throat as he pulls my chair closer to him.
“As comfy as they are, I should really bring some clothes over here if this is going to be a regular thing.” I pop another bite into my mouth and rest my head on his shoulder. This has become a regular thing since Freddie came home.
The soft rise and fall of Elias’s chest beneath my ear grounds me in a way I didn’t even know I needed. His heartbeat is steady, and I close my eyes, letting the rhythm anchor me.
“I have one of my men bringing you new clothes later today.”
My men.
Something inside of me stills, and a feeling I’ve been trying to push down for a while rises. The men, the cars, the money, the house. I’ve been living in fucking denial, and now is the time to face the music. The words are out before I know what’s happening.
“What happened to Kirk?” I ask, my eyes dropping to the floor as I struggle to finally put a voice to my fears. I’ll never know why the words chose to come out at this moment, but I guess they had to. No more denial.
Elias goes preternaturally still. He looks as if someone has just turned him to stone. “Why do you ask?” He quirks a brow, but his face is otherwise unreadable.
“Just answer the question, Elias. Please.” My heart is thumping against my ribs, and my hands begin to shake. I don’t know which answer I’m more afraid of.
“He won’t be bothering you again,” he says, his tone clipped.
A bucket of ice might as well have been poured over me. My brain switches into overdrive as I scramble to read between the lines of what he just said to me, but I can’t. I need to know exactly. I take a deep, steadying breath before speaking. “Is… is he alive?”
The air in the room shifts to an eerie stillness, like the calm before a storm. And I can’t help but brace for impact. Time seems to slow, I don’t know if it’s five seconds or five minutes before he answers.
“No,” he answers after the pause, his eyes never leaving mine.
The single word sends my heart tumbling down into the aether, dragging my stomach with it.
A cold panic grips my chest, my hand instinctively rising to clutch it.
My shoulders tighten, my spine stiffens, and every nerve is suddenly alert.
I know where this is going, yet I can’t get a fucking word out.
My fork clatters against the plate as I let it fall, the sharp piercing the otherwise silent kitchen.
The conversation with Ryland weeks ago begins playing in my mind.
I knew it all along, but denial is strong.
Ryland’s voice echoes in my head, making my stomach harden as nausea rolls up inside me.
Everything I’ve been burying slams into me with such a force that my breath whooshes out of me.
I’m transported back as Elias’s kitchen fades away.
“Katherine, Princess!” he calls out to me from the Church room. “Why don’t you come and meet some new friends of mine?”
My gaze drops to the floor as I walk over to where he’s sitting. I’ve been here for so long now that I can walk this place blindfolded. The hem of my white dress drags along the shit-brown carpet of the clubhouse. I know every creaky floorboard, every cigarette burn in the walls.
My scalp prickles as I enter the Church room. This is where he does all of his business, it’s usually restricted to club members or business partners. I’ve only been allowed in here twice, and both times were…
I push the thought down. Now is not the time to make a scene. Not now, not in front of him.
I round the mahogany table and stand at his side, my eyes still focused on the floor. The wood of the table is polished to within an inch of its life, gleaming under the fluorescent lights, Everything else in this clubhouse is filthy.
“This is Katherine,” he says from beside me as he slaps my ass.
My eyes water from the sting, but I remain solid. My spine stays straight. My hands stay cupped in front of me. Exactly the way he likes it.
“She’s my favorite girl here. Just look at her.” He sucks his lip between his teeth, and I fight the cold shiver that runs through me in response.
I don’t know how many men are at the table, but I feel their eyes on me—burning into any exposed skin. Everything in me screams at me to run, but escape is only an illusion here. I have no choice but to stand here and wait for whatever the fuck he has in mind for me.
“Now, gentlemen, what do you say? Do we have a deal?” he asks, his voice silky and low as his hands brush my ass, his touch a burning brand against the thin gossamer of my dress.
It’s all for show. He’s reminding them who I belong to, but at the same time, he’s reminding me. Like I need any fucking reminding.
“If we’re paying that kind of money, Prez, we want to see exactly what we’re buying,” a voice from the other end of the table calls.
“Of course,” he replies from beside me.
His fingers slip underneath the strap of my dress, letting it fall to the floor. In one swift motion, I’m bare in front of them. Goosebumps ripple over my skin as the cool air hits, making my nipples pebble. I know they notice.
“Perfect, isn’t she? Took a long time to break her in,” he says as he pinches my nipple hard. Pain lances through me, but I don’t react.
The sound of bodies shifting forces my eyes to close. Chairs scrape softly against the floor. A beer bottle hits the table. Someone breathes heavily. My chest sinks.
“You have a deal,” a different voice says as a fist slams against the table, making my knees tremble.
“Wonderful.” I’m vaguely aware of the sound of him standing up. “Don’t embarrass me, Princess. You remember what happened last time,” he whispers against my ear. The proximity makes nausea roll in my stomach. His breath is warm and sour against my skin.
I give a subtle nod.
The heat from his body disappears as I’m left in the room alone with the men. The door shuts behind him with a heavy click.
Fingers brush over my arms as someone grips my waist. Another hand traces slowly down my spine. They’re inspecting me, like I’m livestock at a fucking auction.
I let my mind disappear. Away to the lake. Warm water lapping over my feet as crisp morning air fills my lungs…
“Kat,” Elias’ voice cuts through the memory. “Kat, look at me.”
The hands disappear, and the lake fades from around me.
Suddenly, Elias is in front of me, his hands hovering above my shoulders like he was just about to shake me. For a second, I wait for the hands to come back. But they don’t.
My lungs seize, and I suck in a half-breath that burns my throat.
“Stay with me, Kat,” he says as his hand rises to cup my jaw.
I shrink back from the contact, and he pulls back immediately.
“Kat,” Elias says again, quieter this time. Pain flashes hot over his face. His voice is steady, but his jaw is tight. His hands are curled into tight fists at his side.
“I—” my voice cracks as I struggle to get the words out.
Fuck. I hate this. Hate that no matter how far I run or how much time passes, my body still reacts like this. Hate that my past still clings to me like a cancer I can’t shake. I’ll never be okay, and it was stupid of me to think I would be. I’m a plague to everyone around me.
“I need some time,” I whisper, rising from my seat.
My legs feel heavy as I walk over to Freddie and bundle him into his carrier. I feel the weight of Elias’ gaze, following me around the kitchen.
“You think I’m like him.”
I freeze, only my eyes moving as they dart around the room to find his. His face is equal parts pain and rage. And right now, I don’t know which is directed at me.
“Whoever he is, it doesn’t matter. I built this city so men like him wouldn’t have a place in it. You are safe here, Kat. Safe with me.”
The weight of his words sits heavy in my chest, and it aches.
“I would burn this entire city to its core before I ever let anyone hurt you,” he says as he closes the space between us.
I stiffen and hold my hand up, stopping him in his tracks. “I need time, Elias,” I tell him again, ignoring the look of pain on his face.
I don’t care that I’m still in his shirt as I walk outside, the cool morning air pebbling my skin. As the door closes behind me, I can’t help but think—is it that I don’t trust him, or am I just afraid of ghosts?
Because the problem isn’t just what Elias is or what he’s done.
It’s everything I survived before him.