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I sent the text to Kylo without further explanation because, honestly, he didn't need one. Not after he was so quick to disown me as his fake wife earlier.
I slipped through the back door and let it close with a quiet thud behind me. The darkness enveloped me, and for a moment, I allowed myself the luxury of being just another faceless figure in the night—no past deaths weighing down on my conscience, no ink-stained memories etched into my skin.
Through the steady fall of rain, I spotted headlights approaching, cutting through the haze like a beacon. Kylo's car pulled up and the engine's low growl was somehow comforting among my chaotic thoughts. I stepped forward and the hem of my dress soaked up the puddles, embracing the cold that seeped through the layers.
Kylo's door swung open, and his form emerged, all brooding intensity and sculpted lines. The sight of him could still send an involuntary shiver through me, but tonight, there was a storm brewing in his eyes, one that I had accidentally conjured.
"Very funny, Averill," Kylo snapped and his voice was laced with an emotion I knew all too well. Jealousy was an ugly beast, and right now, it was written all over his handsome face.
My sarcasm was a shield, one I wielded with precision, especially when the truth was too raw to handle.
"Jealous much?" I raised an eyebrow, but the smirk that usually accompanied my taunts was gone. This wasn't a game—not really.
"Damn it, Averill! This isn't about jealousy. It's about trust." His hand raked through his drenched hair and water droplets flicked in my direction. The protective mask he wore so well was cracking, revealing the vulnerability he kept hidden beneath.
“Trust," I repeated, the word bitter on my tongue. "That's rich coming from you."
"Enough with the games. What's going on?" He stepped closer, the heat of him almost scalding against the chill of the rain.
"Games are all I know, Kylo. Maybe I'm sick of playing them," I admitted. My voice was barely above a whisper, drowned out by the city around us.
"Then talk to me, Averill. Tell me what you're thinking for once without the sarcasm." His plea was genuine and his gaze searched mine for something I wasn't sure I could give him.
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining to contain the anger. I could feel the tension radiating off him, the same tension I felt inside myself. We were two sides of the same fucked up coin—bound by loyalty, torn by desire, and utterly, irrevocably screwed.
"Get in the car. We're going back to the motel," his tone left no room for argument.
"Fine," I growled and slid into the passenger seat, the leather cool against my damp skin. I glanced at him, taking in the rigid set of his shoulders, the clenched grip on the steering wheel.
"Kylo..."
"Save it, Averill," he interrupted, and we drove off into the night, leaving unanswered questions swirling in the rain-soaked silence.
Streetlights streaked by in a blur and cast ghostly halos through the mist that clung to the windows. Kylo's hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, his silence as loud as any words.
"Kylo, would you just?—"
"Would I what, Averill?" he snapped, finally breaking his silence. "Listen to more lies? More excuses?" His sliced through the heavy air between us.
"Damn it, they're not lies!" My temper flared, hot and quick. "You think I planned that?"
"Didn't you?" The accusation hung there, heavy and suffocating.
"Of course not!" I shot back, turning to face him fully, trying to find the man I knew underneath layers of anger. "I was working an angle. You know how this goes."
"Working an angle," his words dripped with disdain. "And I'm sure you let him work your angle, and work it, and work it again, huh?"
"Jesus, Kylo, do you even hear yourself?" I screamed. "I'm out here playing fucking 3D chess with these sleazebags, and you're stuck on checkers, questioning my loyalty."
"Maybe because I can't see your fucking board, Averill!" His gaze flicked to me, raw and searching, before it returned to the road. "I'm in the dark here, left guessing what move you're going to make next!"
"Welcome to my world," I muttered under my breath.
"Speak up if you've got something to say," he demanded and tension radiated from him like heat from an oven.
"Fine! Look, I know it looked... compromising, but it was a means to an end." I struggled to keep my voice even, to explain without revealing too much of the vulnerability I kept locked tight.
"Compromising doesn't even begin to cover it," His knuckles strained against the leather of the wheel. "Do you have any idea how that looked?"
