Chapter 44 #2
Heat shoots up my neck. My skin goes two degrees hotter, and I’m suddenly aware of every inch of the dress, every place the fabric brushes bare. I want to make a joke, but my brain stutters. I settle for a shrug and a crooked smile.
“You look like you just saw a ghost,” I say, voice light.
He doesn’t blink. “Didn’t know you had that in your bag.”
“It was a gift from the weird hospitality fairy,” I say. “Either that or they wanted to see if I could be blackmail material.”
He laughs, the sound abrupt and bright, but his eyes never leave me. “It’s effective.”
I force my arms to relax, let them fall to my sides. “You gonna gawk, or are we going to this shindig?”
Kang’s mouth twitches, the barest flash of white teeth. “You’re enjoying this.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway.
He steps closer, slow enough that I could move if I wanted. I don’t. His voice, when it comes, is just for me.
“You look…,” he stops, searching for the word, “dangerous.”
I snort. “Good. Maybe they’ll keep their distance tonight.”
He smiles—just a crack, but genuine. Then he glances away, as if ashamed of something. I realize he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that the Authority mask is gone. With the kids, he had a job. Now, he has nothing but me.
“So,” I say, filling the silence. “What was that back there?”
He tilts his head. “The kids?”
“Yeah. You let them treat you like a playground. That’s… new.”
He shrugs, eyes on the floor. “They wouldn’t stop following me. Kept asking if I was really Authority, or if I was going to arrest someone. Then one of them—” he hesitates, almost smiles, “—one of them just stood there, didn’t say a word, and put his hands up. Like he wanted a lift.”
“And you picked him up.”
He nods. “After that, they all wanted turns.”
I picture it. The straight-backed captain, surrounded by feral children, letting them climb him like a tree. It’s so at odds with the man I met in the cell block that I have to laugh.
My laughter bounces off the tunnel walls, ricochets into the air. It’s loud and ugly, but I don’t care.
Kang watches me, his gaze sharp and hungry.
“What?” I say, when I catch my breath.
He shakes his head, voice low. “Nothing. Just haven’t seen you like this.”
“Like what?”
He doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking, like he’s trying to memorize every detail.
The air between us changes. The laughter fades, replaced by something heavier, denser. I can feel it in my chest, in the place where the pain used to be.
Kang moves, fast and quiet. One hand finds my waist, fingers splaying across the lace and the flesh beneath. He pulls me in—not rough, but not gentle either. The strength in his grip is unmistakable.
He leans down, mouth at my ear. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he murmurs, the words a shock against my skin.
I shiver. “Try me.”
His hand tightens, just enough to remind me how much bigger he is. He breathes in, the heat of it ghosting down my neck.
“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and it’s not a compliment. It’s a confession. “You walk around in this, and you expect me to behave?”
I tilt my head back, daring him. “I don’t expect anything from you.”
He growls, a sound low in his throat. “You want me to tear it off you right here?”
“Maybe,” I say, and my voice is almost steady.
He kisses the side of my neck, teeth scraping the skin just above my collarbone. I gasp, the sound embarrassingly loud in the empty tunnel. His other hand finds my hip, pulling me closer, until I can feel every line of him against me.
“Fuck, Dee…” he says again, the words barely more than breath. “You’re going to get me killed.”
I smile, my heart hammering. “You first, Kang.”
He laughs, the sound raw and feral. Then he kisses me for real—hard, deep, nothing held back. His hand slides down, cups the curve of my ass, lifts me onto my toes. I let him. I wrap my arms around his neck and bite his ear, not quite gentle.
For a minute, there’s nothing but the heat of his body and the taste of his mouth. I could get lost in it, if I let myself.
I pull back, breathing hard. “Easy, captain. We still have a party to attend.”
He grins, eyes dark and wild. “You’re the one who wanted to go.”
I give him a shove, just enough to put space between us. “If you’re good, maybe I’ll let you help me out of this later.”
He growls again, but releases me.
I start down the tunnel, hips swinging a little more than necessary. I can feel his eyes on me the whole way.
I tell myself the party is for appearances, for information, for the chance to spot the whispers before they turn into knives. But I know the real reason: I want to see if the dress changes anything, if being seen—really seen—can shift the story of who I am here.
Kang walks beside me, a wall of quiet heat, his bruised knuckles occasionally grazing my hand. He doesn’t talk, but I can feel his attention at every step. It’s a weird relief, knowing he wants to touch but is waiting for my signal. Power I haven’t had in years, maybe ever.
The corridor to the main hall is strung with lanterns, most scavenged from old Authority stock. They run on cheap batteries or scavenged solar, and the light is a sodium blur that makes everything—dirt, stone, flesh—look yellow and urgent. It feels like we’re underwater, or on a different planet.
At the end of the corridor, just before the party, I stop and look back. Kang is right behind me, lips swollen, hair mussed. He looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world.
“Coming?” I say.
He grins, wolfish. “You have no idea.”
We walk into the light, side by side, hearts pounding.
Let the world watch.