Chapter 7 Kara #2
That was, until I felt it and went completely still. The soft, familiar brush of something against my cheek.
One of his tentacles moved gently along my skin, wiping away a tear before it could fall any further.
The touch was so gentle that my breath caught again, but for an entirely different reason now.
My gaze snapped to his, and I realized he had gone just as still as I had, like the moment had frozen around us.
“I can feel it,” he said quietly, almost a whisper, his gaze locked on mine. “You’re still holding onto so much.” His tentacle continued to move softly along my cheek, and I couldn’t help but lean into it just a little. “I feel sadness here, but most of all, I feel fear.”
I let out a small, shaky laugh, grasping for anything that might pull us away from where this was heading. “Well, yeah. That’s what happens when you live in a house that’s constantly trying to kill you.”
“No,” he said immediately. “There’s something deeper here.” His eyes searched mine, unwavering. “What aren’t you telling me?”
For a moment, I almost wanted to tell him. The words hovered there, right on the edge of becoming real, pressing against the back of my teeth like they were ready to spill out whether I wanted them to or not.
It would’ve been so easy, wouldn’t it? To just say it and hand over the truth I had been carrying since the moment I arrived here.
Maybe this was the opening I needed, the chance to finally let it all out.
Maybe he was someone safe, someone I could trust with it.
But just as quickly as the thought came, something colder followed.
Reality.
Because it didn’t matter how pathetic my past was or who I had been running from. There was something else, something far more dangerous. I was human. And I wasn’t supposed to be here. My fingers flew to the pearl hanging from my neck as the truth lingered.
What if I told him and he didn’t react the way I hoped? What if he told someone? What if I lost this place, the only place that had felt even remotely safe since everything fell apart? What then?
Back on the run. Back to looking over my shoulder at every turn. Back to surviving instead of living.
No. I couldn’t risk that. Not when I had finally found something that felt like freedom, even if it was fragile.
And I wasn’t ready to face how he might look at me if he found out the truth, that I wasn’t like everyone else in this town, that I didn’t belong here at all.
I wasn’t ready for the disgust that might follow, or worse, the betrayal he would feel after everything.
I swallowed hard, forcing the words back down where they belonged, locking them away before they could do any damage. Instead, I focused on the emotions I was already starting to drown in, the ones I knew he could feel, especially with his tentacle still resting against my cheek.
“Can you make it go away?” I asked instead, my voice smaller than I meant it to be.
His gaze didn’t leave mine, like he was taking in every flicker of expression, every shift I tried and failed to hide. “Do you want that other session I offered?”
“Yes,” I said, but then I remembered I didn’t exactly have it in my budget at the moment. Maybe he’d let me open a tab? “But I don’t have the funds right now, what with all the repairs, but I swear I can pay you as soon as—”
“This one can be on the house,” he said, leaving no room for argument, which only made my heart clench harder, because here this man was again, offering me something and expecting nothing in return.
I didn’t have time to be polite and insist on paying him. I just needed this feeling gone, so I agreed without argument. “Okay. Can we do it now? We can do it here if that works.”
Something shifted in his expression then. His eyes darkened slightly, and my pulse stuttered in response. He stayed quiet for a long moment, and I realized I was holding my breath without meaning to, waiting for his answer.
Finally, his eyes closed briefly before he nodded. “Go lie down on the bed,” he said, his voice steady again, carefully controlled. “I’ll gather what I can use here, and then we’ll begin.”
I moved immediately, a little surprised by how quickly he had agreed to do this here, in my home instead of his shop. It felt... different. More intimate, somehow. But I didn’t question it as my feet carried me down the short hallway, my thoughts already spinning in too many directions at once.
Because yes, I wanted the relief. I wanted the weight in my chest to ease, the fear and sadness to loosen their grip, even if only for a little while. But beneath that, there was something else. Something I had been trying very hard not to acknowledge since our first session.
Because as many times as I had imagined him touching me again, it was about to actually happen.
I stepped into my bedroom and moved toward the bed, lowering myself onto it as the mattress dipped slightly beneath me.
I rolled onto my stomach, my dress shifting with the movement, and from this angle I was suddenly very aware of how little it might actually conceal and heat crept up my neck at the thought.
I just had to fall in love with pin-up dresses—cute, of course, but not exactly discreet in this sort of position.
I reached back, tugging the petticoat down as far as it would go, the hem settling against the backs of my legs as I adjusted it, tucking it carefully in place beneath my thighs
My heart was racing, anticipation thrumming through me in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with something far more complicated. I knew I needed to calm down before he noticed and felt everything I was trying to keep bottled up.
I took a slow breath, then another, willing my pulse to steady. Closing my eyes, I let the room fall quiet around me.
And then I waited.