3. Don’t Let Me Down #2
An older couple stepped off together, and the two men faced one another.
Audiemar recognized the trouble in his son’s stare.
Something, or someone, was shifting his focus.
While he respected Ayla and enjoyed her abilities as a chef, if she was going to keep Kong off his square, the situation wasn’t going to work.
“I suggest you take the time to gather your priorities, son. I understand temptation. Desire. Need. But at what cost? A woman weakens you. Have you not learned from my past?”
“With all due respect, Pops, that’s some bullshit. Where would any of us be without Jane? Including you?” Kong pressed his finger into his chest before backing onto the elevator.
“And look where Jane is now,” Audiemar reminded him.
Not to be cruel or hit below the waist, but to show him how one choice, one moment, can change everything. Expressionless, Kong stood in the middle of the elevator and pressed the button for the ground level. He didn’t utter another word as the doors closed.
Ten years ago…
“Ayla! Ayla!” Inari’s raised voice reverberated throughout the house.
The faint aroma of blood struck her nose, and a sharp pain ripped through her temple before traveling through the rest of her body.
“Noooooo!” The terrorizing wail her sister released rocked Ayla to her core when she came to.
In a darkened room, she noticed the large figure on the floor first. Scrambling to sit up, the thick, sticky substance on her hands alarmed her.
When Ayla raised her palms, the bright crimson stuck to them stole her breath.
Heart thudding wildly, her eyes flew to the face staring back at her with wide, dead eyes.
Blood was everywhere, and an old seashell lamp her mother bought on a road trip years ago was shattered beside him.
“Inari!” she shrieked, panic paralyzing her when she looked up and caught her sister’s figure in the doorway and two shadows moving behind her.
She wasn’t alone.
“Shhh, it’s okay, Lala.”
“What’s happening? Wh-what ha—happened?” she stammered, pressing a hand against her chest. “Did I… is he….” She couldn’t complete a sentence, but her mind flickered with a memory that stiffened her spine.
As the overly large figure came at her, fear crippled her, and her instinct to protect herself kicked in.
She grabbed the closest object she could find.
Ironically one the pieces of her mother she’d refused to let go of after she died.
She raised it above her head when he charged at her, and when she brought it down, she heard his skull crush from the impact before his body hit the ground with a hard thud.
An ear-shattering wail slipped through her lips, and Inari knelt to wrap her in her arms.
Sweat drenched her t-shirt. Ayla’s round brown eyes shot open, and for a moment, she forgot where she was.
While she was growing used to the Blackmoor estate, sometimes she missed her old bedroom.
The house she shared with Inari and Dane had been home nearly all her life.
She was growing more comfortable here, though.
Taking in her darkened room, she found the TV still on and the Roku menu playing on the screen.
Reaching for her phone in bed, she picked it up and read the time. It was after nine pm.
Throwing her covers aside, she slipped her feet into her cozy slippers and grabbed her thin, silk robe off a nearby chair on her way out the door.
Hair pulled into a messy bun on top of her head, she yawned a bit while padding through the quiet halls into the kitchen.
She was surprised the kids were down. Normally, the two of them would be up even after being tucked in.
Kara had trouble going to sleep, so Ayla had Yasmine order some soothing bath stuff for her and tried to get her into a routine.
The nanny agency hadn’t found anyone willing to come back to the estate as of now, so she was pulling double duty with cooking and making sure the kids were good.
Today had been a day. Kyro caused some problems at school, so he was sent home early.
She didn’t think Kong was privy to that information yet with everything else that he’d been dealing with today.
She decided to cook. Nobody had requested or complained about her meal choices so far, and cooking helped her settle herself in times like this.
She was focused on her homemade mini apple pies when she heard what sounded like the front door closing.
The kitchen lights were low, and she hummed softly to some old school Mary J.
Blige playing on the Bluetooth speaker on the counter.
The warm scent of apples and cinnamon filled the room, and Kong paused in the doorway to watch her work.
For a moment, the house felt like it did when Jane was alive.
Warm. Alive. Safe. Entranced by her movements longer than he should be, he shoved his keys into his pants pocket.
“Hey.” Ayla greeted him with a smile.
Fuck! He hated that she could breathe, and he got the urge to be close to her, soaking up all her good ass energy. Standing in her pajamas, hair messy on top of her head, face absent of her glasses, he took a breath. She wasn’t wearing a drop of makeup, but she’d never been finer.
“You hungry? I can warm you up a plate.”
His stomach grumbled at the mention of food, and he realized he hadn’t eaten much today.
He almost refused, but instead, he sighed and nodded.
Ambling over to the cabinet where the liquor was stored, Kong grabbed a clean glass.
He picked a bottle of Marek Reserve off the shelf and decided to have a shot to take the edge off.
After a big gulp, the alcohol burned his chest, and he poured himself another before taking a seat across from where Ayla worked at the counter.
She’d already brought over the containers with tonight’s leftovers to make him a plate.
Arranging barbecued salmon over rice, she went to heat it up in the microwave.
When she brought it back, she topped it off with a homemade mango salsa and set the bowl in front of him.
“How’s Nay doing?” she asked, using a towel from the counter to dry her hands.
Kong paused with his fork in his hand.
“She woke up. Surgery went well.” He scooped some salmon and rice onto a fork and took a bite.
The fish nearly melted in his mouth and was bursting with flavor.
“That’s good. I’m sure she was happy to wake up and have you there.”
“You ever feel like people are expecting more of you than you even know how to give?” he asked, chewing slowly with a creased brow.
Ayla snickered and used her fork to seal her mini pies shut. They looked just like the ones they served at McDonald’s.
“All the time.”
“I feel like I’m still trying to figure that shit out, but people look to me for answers like I got ’em.”
Pausing, she let her arm fall to her side. Contemplating her answer, she half shrugged and went back to her task. She wanted the kids to be able to have these when they woke in the morning with breakfast.
“They look to you because they can, Kong. You’re strong. You’re a survivor. You’ve witnessed loss up close, and you’re still standing. Life has been anything but a breeze for you. I think people see that and expect you to be this strong, confident, fearless man.”
“Is that what you see?” he pried, squinting as she dabbed each pie with her butter/oil blend over the top so they could bake.
“Among other things,” she muttered, avoiding his piercing stare. “But don’t think you aren’t the only one out here still trying to figure things out. Life is full of one transition after the next. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing enough with my life.”
“You’re the one holding this house together right now,” he admitted.
“You hold it together.” Ayla shrugged.
“Nah, I hold it up. You make it livable.” He dug into more of her food. “There was a time when I was putting in twelve and fifteen-hour days just to avoid coming home. Now I’m looking forward to seeing what your next meal will be or to hearing about what the kids have been up to.”
Ayla looked at him in a way she normally avoided. It was direct, open, and searching. This vulnerable side to him was sexy. It was nice to know that something soft rested inside this man who seemed so hardened and hollow at times.
“Don’t.” Kong glimpsed her and leaned back in his chair.
He toyed with some of the salmon and rice, moving it around on his plate nervously as her big mocha brown eyes drank him in.
“Don’t what?”
“Look at me like that. I’m not good for you, Ayla. Going there with you would only make this complicated.”
She studied him, bringing her hands to rest against the counter.
“It’s already complicated,” she murmured, grabbing the dish towel to dry her hands again.
She went to pop the pies in the oven and set the timer for an hour for them to cook.
Once she loaded the dishwasher, she turned and found Kong finishing the last of his food.
He walked his plate to the sink and washed it.
Silence had filled the kitchen since she shut off her playlist. Facing her from the sink, desire coiled in his stomach watching her put the cap on the flour and sugar containers.
He knew he should walk away, but Ayla was a weakness he didn’t expect.
When he stepped up beside her, she faced him instinctively.
The heat brewing between them was unavoidable.
She reached for his wrist. It was a small touch, but enough to make Kong freeze.
“You shouldn’t do that,” he warned, his tone low and tinged with lust.
Ayla swallowed. “I know.” She moved closer, sealing the space between them.