Chapter Twenty-Five
~ Hideous ~
Kit
I wake up slowly, the world filtering in through layers of fog and pain.
My throat is dry and raw, like I’ve swallowed sandpaper.
My eyes feel heavy and weary, crusty at the corners.
And my face… God, my face feels tight, like the skin is being pulled together too hard, stretched and burning.
I reach up in a daze, fingers brushing toward the source of the discomfort, not fully understanding why it hurts so much.
A gentle hand catches mine before I can touch it. “Oh no, dear,” Lorraine’s voice says softly, warm and familiar. “Don’t touch it.”
I let her hold my hand, blinking slowly as I try to open my eyes properly.
She’s sitting casually in a chair beside the bed, knitting needles clicking quietly in her lap like she’s been there for a while.
Wait… the bed… where am I? My gaze flicks around the room, hazy and unfocused.
It looks familiar… soft lighting, familiar furniture rearranged.
Lorraine must notice my confusion because she sets her knitting down and squeezes my hand. “You’re in one of the smaller living rooms, Kit. So the doctor had room to work on you.”
My voice comes out croaked, barely a whisper. “W-work… on me?”
Lorraine smiles sadly, her thumb stroking the back of my hand. “You needed thirty stitches, sweetheart. He did a good job with it.”
“Oh…”
The memory slams back… the blade, the scream, the blood. My face drops, the tight pull of the stitches making the movement hurt even more.
Lorraine strokes my knuckles gently. “You’re home now, sweetheart. You’re safe.”
I nod, noticing it’s only Lorraine in the room. My voice is so dry, the words scraping up my throat. “I’m glad… I’m not… ruining anyone’s day.”
Lorraine frowns, confused, then lets out a soft laugh. “Oh, sweetheart… everyone’s done nothing but worry and search for you.”
I frown too… I didn’t want that. I hoped everyone was just getting on with their lives. “They… did?”
Lorraine nods. “Armen and Selina only left about ten minutes ago. They’ve got some quick jobs to do, then they’ll probably come straight back.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “As long as everyone’s… still doing what they need to.” I let out a weak cough, breathing rough.
Lorraine huffs a little laugh. “Everyone but the boss.”
I blink. “What do you mean?”
Then I freeze as someone lets out a content, sleepy hum behind me, before an arm shifts gently over my waist. My one good eye goes wide; I wince as the other throbs painfully.
I look at Lorraine and whisper, “Uh…”
The question doesn’t quite form in my mouth.
Lorraine’s expression softens with understanding. “Soren came in here as soon as the doc was done. Seems to have curled up behind you and he’s not moved for the past two hours. He barely slept looking for you.”
I frown, still trying to process. “Why is he here?”
Lorraine looks at me, genuinely confused. “What do you mean?”
I hesitate, cheeks warming. “Um… well… I just don’t understand… why he’s sleeping here when he has a room upstairs.”
Lorraine’s brows raise and she tilts her head slightly. “You think he’d rather be upstairs?”
“I mean… yeah?” I mumble, clearing my throat. “He doesn’t need to do this…”
I don’t get the chance to finish my sentence because Lorraine says gently, “No, but he wanted to.”
“Oh… uh, okay.”
Lorraine studies me for a moment. “Am I missing something?”
“What?”
“Why do you think he wouldn’t want to be here?”
I blush, not wanting to say it out loud… that I’m just Soren’s fuck toy, that there’s no real reason he should be wrapped around me like this.
I divert instead. “Can I have some water?”
She frowns, concerned, but nods. “Of course. I’ll get you a cold glass. Be back in a sec.”
Soren stirs behind me again. I hear the soft sound of him swallowing, then the quiet wet click of his tongue as he licks his lips, the unmistakable signs of someone waking up.
I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, pretending I’m still asleep.
I’m not ready for this. On top of everything else, there’s this deep, gnawing fear and shame twisting in my gut.
I don’t want him to look at my face. I don’t want him to see the ugly, stitched-up scar and think I look like a monster now, or deformed.
Soren’s the only person I’ve ever known who seemed to find me attractive, for some inexplicable reason, and I don’t know how I’d cope if he suddenly looked at me with pity or disgust. I’m a nobody as it is.
Soren yawns, deep and sleepy, definitely awake now.
Then he snuggles closer, pressing his face into the side of my neck.
I try not to tense, but this is so strange.
Soren doesn’t do comfort or cuddles. But here he is, warm and solid against my back, his breath ghosting over my skin before he presses a slow, lingering kiss to the side of my neck.
He nudges my shoulder gently. “Kit?”
Nope. No. Kit is still asleep. Kit is not here right now.
The door opens and Lorraine’s voice fills the room. “I’ve got your…”
She must see Soren because she lets out a soft laugh. “You’re finally awake then.”
Soren grunts, voice still thick with sleep. “Who were you talking to?”
Lorraine pauses for a beat. “Me, uh… I was talking to Kit.”
Soren nudges me again, but I stay perfectly still. “Oh really? So… he’s awake then?”
Lorraine laughs again, adding a scoff and completely failing to help me pretend. “What? No, I… uh… I was just talking to him as he slept…”
Soren shifts behind me, propping himself up a little. He interrupts her gently. “So what’s with the water?”
“Just ready for when he comes round,” Lorraine replies. “Shouldn’t be long now, dear.”
Soren lets out a deep, rumbling laugh. “Do you two think I’m stupid?”
Inside, I’m screaming. Oh my god. Play cool, Kit. You’re still unconscious. Totally…
Suddenly a hand gently digs under my arm, tickling me just enough to make me twitch. A tiny whimper-laugh escapes before I can stop it. I clear my throat quickly and try to pretend it never happened.
Lorraine hums thoughtfully. “Maybe we should let him rest… on his own?”
Soren grunts, his arm tightening around my waist. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting him out of my sight.”
Lorraine snorts. “Good lord… haven’t you got work to do?”
“This is more important,” Soren replies, voice final.
I frown to myself. More important? I wonder how on earth I could possibly be more important than Soren’s work.
Lorraine sighs softly. “Alright, well… I’ll go and get my gang to start prepping some supper for us all. It may be late, but no one’s had a proper meal yet, so… midnight dinner it is.”
Soren just grunts in approval as I hear her footsteps retreating, then the soft click of the door closing behind her. Oh god… I’m going to have to face him; Soren won’t let me ignore him. I keep my eyes closed, heart racing way too fast now.
“Kit, I know you’re awake.”
I stay perfectly still, pretending I’m still unconscious.
I don’t know what I’m feeling right now…
uncomfortable with this sudden, gentle attention, a part of me wondering if Soren genuinely cares or if he’s just…
horny? The thought makes my stomach twist. I don’t know how to handle someone like Soren giving me this kind of softness.
He huffs in that usual grumpy, grunting way of his, then repositions himself until he’s straddling me. This actual man, this hunk of a giant, muscly, tall, tattooed man… is currently on top of me. Then he rolls me onto my back. I don’t have the strength to resist; I’m too weak even on a good day.
Soren growls, displeasure filling the room like a low rumble of thunder.
I keep my face turned to the side, as if that could somehow hide me from his gaze.
His deep, commanding voice cuts through the quiet. “Christopher. Look at me.”
I swallow hard and simply shake my head a little.
He strokes a curl away from my face with surprising gentleness and sighs. “You hate me, don’t you?”
The motion pulls at the stitches in my eyebrow, sending a sharp sting through my face. I whimper softly to myself, annoyed that I can’t even have normal facial expressions anymore.
I whisper, barely audible, “No… of course I don’t hate you.”
Soren sighs, the sound full of relief and confusion at the same time. “So do as you’re told and look at me.” I resist, but he gently grabs my jaw and whispers, “Look at me, Kit.”
I slowly open my eyes. My bad eye only opens halfway, the lid heavy and swollen. I meet his gaze.
Soren smiles, sad, but full of something else I can’t quite name. “I’m proud of you.”
I swallow, trying to keep my facial expression as neutral as possible to avoid pulling the stitches. “Why? I successfully got kidnapped in a matter of seconds… what’s there to be proud of? I’m a murderer, I…”
Soren shakes his head. “Why are you always so negative?”
My eyes flick to the glass of water Lorraine left on the bedside table. “I… I don’t know. Defence mechanism, I guess…”
Soren notices my gaze and leans back to grab the water. He reaches around my head and helps me lift it carefully. I push myself up onto my palms and take a small sip.
“Thank you,” I whisper, after swallowing.
Soren says, “Again,” already bringing the cup back to my mouth.
I look up as I swallow, and for a beat our gazes lock.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before, like the rest of the world doesn’t exist, like it’s just Soren…
a regular guy, not Mr. Sinclair, just taking care of me.
We both get lost in it. I forget the water, forget to swallow, until it’s dripping down my chin and I choke.
Soren snaps out of it too. “Shit.”
He puts the water down as I cough, then uses the hem of his own shirt to gently wipe my chin dry.
I lay back down, that small effort already draining me. Soren still hasn’t moved, still just sitting there, straddling me. I sigh, not really sure what’s happening here, not really sure what he wants. It’s not normal to be straddling someone who’s supposed to be resting.
I look up at him and ask quietly, “Do you… want sex or something?”
Soren stares at me like I’ve lost my mind. He frowns, almost scoffing. “What? No.”
“Oh.”
He looks genuinely confused. “Do you?”
I shake my head quickly. “God no… I mean… no offence… just…”
I gesture weakly at myself, my pale, bruised, stitched-up state, hoping it’s explanation enough without words.
Soren nods. “Do you need anything?”
I almost laugh, thinking to myself, yeah, maybe some space to rest and gather my thoughts, but I can’t say that. I just shake my head. “No…”
Soren hums, narrowing his eyes. “Let me know if you need the toilet, I’ll help.”
I choke on my own saliva as I swallow and whisper-shout, “What?! You are not… Christ… you are not helping me use the toilet! My legs are fine!”
Soren doesn’t even laugh; he just watches me intently.
I sigh. “Do you mind if I rest, please?”
Soren nods and starts to lay back down.
I blink. “What are you doing?”
He laughs softly and lays down facing me. “What does it look like?”
I stare at him. “I’m okay now. I’m home… you don’t have to… be with me.”
Soren says, voice gruff, “Shut the fuck up, kid, go back to sleep.”
I whimper, emotions getting the better of me. “Soren…”
He searches my face. “What’s wrong?”
I cry a little, the tears stinging the fresh stitches. “Please go away.”
Soren frowns, concern etched into his features. “No. Not happening. What’s wrong with you? I haven’t seen you or held you for too long.”
I close my eyes and gently cover my face with my hands, whispering, “I’m… hideous.”
Soren laughs, soft and warm, and pulls me into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of my head and murmurs, “You’re ridiculous if you think that. You’re perfect.”
My breath catches. Oh my god. Soren actually thinks that doesn’t he? I tilt my head up slightly to look at him. Oh hell… I blush hard and will my heart to calm down before closing my eyes again.