Chapter 40
Kinsley
I'm Not Ready
Unable to control my trembling body, I stood in the middle of my room. It was as if an invisible force had taken hold of me. The sheer magnitude of my unease was overwhelming, and I found myself doubting my own sanity.
It was irrational, I knew that, but the mere thought of uttering the word Master sent waves of terror through my entire being, paralyzing me with fear.
Rushing to the bathroom, I collapsed to the cold tile floor as my legs buckled beneath me, then hung my head over the toilet. Minutes blurred together as haunting images of a masked man taunted me, and faces then began to intertwine.
Each passing second felt like a weight on my chest, pressing down on my ribs with relentless force. Would I ever be able to escape it? My stomach had long since emptied, so I scooted back and leaned against the wall, letting the tears fall.
I had to admit I’d purposefully egged him on. There was some sixth sense inside me that knew exactly how to push his buttons, and push them, I did. At least he hadn’t pushed back. If he had, I would be in the back of a squad car because in that exact moment, I had no doubt that I would have sunk my blade into his cock.
Crying, I ripped my clothes off. I needed a shower. The intense need to feel clean, even though that was impossible, was all I could think about. I wanted to scrub Alek’s mark from me, and I squeezed my eyes shut so I didn’t have to look at it.
I wasn’t allowed loofahs; not after the time Doc caught me scrubbing myself raw in a desperate attempt to clean myself. I was still haunted by the look in her eyes—a mix of horror and pity as the frantic scrubbing had torn through the top layer of my skin, leaving raw, bleeding patches behind.
The pain, both physically and emotionally, had been etched into my being as I had to recount to Owen later what I’d done. Healing hadn’t come easily. Not in the emotional sense, anyway. Owen said it was okay because wounds of the body and soul took time to mend, and some areas took to healing faster.
That day, as Owen looked over the ravaged state of my skin, he implored me to never do something like that again as tears streamed down his face. The only other man I’d ever seen cry was my papa, so it had sent a dagger straight through my heart.
I vowed to him that day that I wouldn’t do it again, and it was only the first of many promises he and I would share over the years. We’d both made our fair share of them. From the silliest to the most serious, they rattled around in my head. My heart broke open, the loneliness barreling in like a hurricane.
The bathroom fell silent as I shut the water off and got out, proud that I didn’t hurt myself. I tugged my pajamas on, then walked over to the safe and grabbed the envelope from Owen and went to retrieve the bottle of sleeping pills. Taking two of them, I didn’t care that it was only four in the afternoon.
I absolutely needed to sleep, to forget everything that happened. There was no way my brain was going to be able to process the dreams waiting to consume me. It was bad enough that my conscious mind was in overdrive. After calling into work and scheduling some time off from both places, I closed the safe and walked to my room.
Climbing into my bed, I hugged the envelope to my body, fighting the mixture of emotions churning inside me. Its presence was both a solace and terrifying. The edges pressed against my skin, and I remembered Owen’s words.
“Jellybean, the contents of this letter will provide you with answers, launch a hundred questions, and will make you see the world differently. When you’re ready to read it in its entirety, you’ll know.”
As my gaze wandered across the room, my eyes fell on the smiling bears happily perched on the dresser. A surge of determination had me jumping out of bed. My feet landed soundlessly on the carpet, and with deliberate care, I scooped up the bears, cradling them in my arms.
If I was going to read the letter, they deserved to know the contents as well. After all, we were sisters, and he’d rescued them too. Their soft fur brushed against my skin as I held them close, relishing the undeniable connection—that bond formed through our shared experiences.
Together, we retreated back to bed. I carefully placed them in front of me, putting them in season order. I didn’t have the strength to imagine what they’d say about everything that had transpired between Alek and me.
I angrily brushed tears away, closed my eyes, and brought back one of my favorite memories of all time—the four of us riding the strange carousel on our playground.
X had led each of us over and had us climb up on the animals that represented each of us. A swan for me, a red fox for Winter, a seahorse for Summer, and a bunny for Autumn. X had a goofy smile on her face—one of the few times we’d seen her smile.
I wondered if the Collector and the Mask were not home that day. It was the only thing I could conclude. She started the machine and laughed freely.
Winter leaned back, and her beautiful red hair fanned out behind her, and soon, all three of us were following suit. X clapped and danced happily around us.
The sound of laughter faded from my ears as I opened my eyes to my current reality. Oh, what I wouldn’t give for an Owen hug right now. Cradling the envelope in my trembling hands, I brought it close to my chest again, wishing with everything that he was here with me instead. I set the envelope down and grabbed a tissue to blow my nose.
In the seconds it took, my eyes dropped to Winter bear. Maybe it was the drugs, or maybe it was my own inner turmoil, but I felt an overwhelming sense of acceptance coming from it, and a childlike voice seemingly whispered, “It’s okay. Whatever you choose is okay.”
With my own voice hushed and quivering, I whispered my unspoken fears into the stillness of the room, to the bears in front of me.
“I’m not ready.”
The words slipped from my lips, heavy with remorse.
It was an apology whispered to the letter itself, an acknowledgment of my own vulnerability, and with them surrounding me, that was okay. I whispered the words I needed to hear from Winter aloud. “It’s okay. Whatever you choose is okay.”
My chest rose and fell with a heavy sigh before I carefully placed the envelope into my side dresser drawer. Maybe having it closer would make the journey to reading it easier.
For tonight, I looked at it as an act of self-compassion. The entire purpose behind the letter was because Owen understood, above all others, that readiness could not be rushed—that healing took its own time and looked different for everyone.
ALEKSANDR
Several Hours Later
I was going fucking crazy; she had turned her phone off. It went straight to voicemail, and I realized my behavior was straight-up stalkerish. I’d sent five messages, damn near begging her to at least text me and let me know she was okay. She hadn’t even read them.
This was my fault; I knew I pushed her. I had no idea what I said that triggered her, but her emotional declaration was enough of a warning that I’d crossed a line. I could tell Nik, but not Ivan.
Those emotional wounds, even after all these years, were nowhere near healed. I doubted they would ever be. Her words played over and over in my head, and the fear only increased the longer she ignored my messages.
That was how I found myself sitting back outside her house. The lights were off, and it was quiet. If she was inside asleep, I could check on her, then go home. But I had to know she was okay. Opening the car door and stepping out into the cool night air, I strode toward the door before I could change my mind.
I stepped up and picked the lock, letting myself in. I’d send Nik’s security team over tomorrow and set up an alarm system. She would allow us to install it, come hell or high water.
I quietly closed the door and looked around. Kinsley’s house was small. The living room and dining room were an all-in-one deal. There was a bottle on the table, and I made my way over to it. Estazolam, prescribed to her.
I took a picture of the label and did a quick search. Sleeping pills. There were roughly twenty-eight still in the bottle. I should tell Marcel, but then he’d want to know how I knew. I wasn’t about to out myself as the fucking creeper I’d become. So much for not keeping secrets. I consoled myself with the promise that I’d tell him eventually.
Right now, though, I didn’t even know how to articulate how she made me feel. So trying to tell Marcel about it tonight wasn’t happening. I made my way to her bedroom, standing in the doorway for a minute before stepping closer.
I knew how wrong this was—how this somehow put me on the same level as some of the sick fucks we regularly took out. But I couldn’t help myself. Scratch that; I didn’t want to help myself.
Staring down at the curled-up girl holding a ridiculous pink stuffed bunny, I smiled. When she shifted, I saw the bunny had a shirt with a picture of Vincent van Gogh on it. There were two others scattered about the bed.
Her dark lashes framed her closed eyes, and her hair fanned out across her pillow. Her full lips were slightly parted, and she’d kicked the covers off. Wearing only a tank top and loose boy shorts, I noticed how worn the shirt was. It must have been a favorite because I could see the outline of her nipples. This was a bad fucking idea.
It was official, I was a pervert. But damned if I gave a shit. My cock strained against my jeans when she shifted from her side to her back, inching her shorts higher. Groaning, I realized I could see up them if I tried hard enough. I fought everything in me not to look.
My mouth watered just thinking about being between her thighs, licking her, tasting her, and sucking on her clit. If she had picked Jenna’s card that night, I would have. Without even thinking, I picked up the stuffies and placed them back on the nightstand next to her.
I climbed onto the bed and took her in my arms, hoping the medication she had taken would keep her sleeping. I only wanted to hold her for a little bit, and then I’d leave. Pushing her hair back from her neck, I kissed it.
She smelled amazing; the honeysuckle scent was stronger tonight. My mind screamed at me to get up and leave, but hell if I couldn’t move other than to pull her closer. She sighed sweetly, and my body shook with want.
I was clueless and had no idea how, but she’d cast a spell on me. I wanted her as I’d never wanted a woman ever in my life. Facing her, I tried to tell myself to leave—to go now—when she drew closer, draping her leg over mine.
This was fucking crazy. I had to get up. I shouldn’t have touched her leg to move it because the minute her soft skin was under my fingertips, I was lost. A deep groan escaped as she ground her hips into me, and I froze. I closed my eyes and tried to focus, but my cock throbbed so hard it was torturous.
She moaned quietly and rocked her hips more. “Please, Alek,”
she begged in her sleep. Fuck, she was dreaming about me. My hands instantly went to her round ass, and I pulled her hips into my hard cock. My fingers itched to slip beneath the gap in the shorts and touch her.
Muttering to myself, “Don’t fucking do it, don’t fucking do it”
helped. I took a deep breath and went to stop her movements, but she doubled her efforts and began panting as she pleasured herself.
I knew this was a bad idea. Why I didn’t listen to the sane part of my brain earlier was beyond me. Now I had Kinsley rubbing her sweet pussy against my cock with no idea of what she was doing. She thought she was dreaming, but no, because I was fucked in the head, she was actually getting off.
And damn, if she didn’t finish soon, she was going to make me come as well. That was the third mistake I’d made this evening. Thinking about coming deep inside her had my balls agreeing it would be the best thing in the world to do.
“Reaper, can I come?”
she moaned breathlessly, sounding desperate, and I lost it.
“Come for me, kitten,”
I whispered in her ear as she shuddered beautifully, her body finding what it was looking for on my cock. On cue, my balls clenched, and I came in my jeans like a goddamned teenager with no control.
This is not happening.
I moved quickly so that it didn’t soak through my jeans onto her shorts. She whimpered at the loss of connection and bucked again, hitting her clit against my knuckle. I moved my hand to cup her pussy through her shorts, letting my thumb rest on her clit. She continued to rock softly against my hand until she sighed, and her breathing became even once more.
I gently slipped out from under her leg and let myself out, locking back up behind me. I walked back to my car with wet jeans and a sense of guilt I’d never felt before. Hating myself and what I’d just done, I vowed to stay away. To leave her alone like she’d asked.