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I spot a remote nearby. Grabbing it should be simple, but with my stomach doing flip-flops, nothing's a given. Breathe in, breathe out. My hand hovers, then snatches it up. No new wave of nausea hits. Small victories.
The screen zooms, and I'm watching a view of a corner of the house where the waning sunlight casts shadows over much of the grounds. Then, something moves, shadow to flesh. Jaden. A shimmer surrounds him. Hallucination, got to be. The drugs playing tricks on me. But I can't look away. He downs the guy. Permanently. A nausea of a different kind claws at me. The first kill was in self-defense; this one most definitely isn’t. Deep breaths, Rayne.
What did I just witness? My brain's a cyclone, but I can't dismiss what's right in front of me. The brutal, unfathomable truth: Jaden just went all-in for my sake. Why? What's his angle?
This man's not a puzzle, he’s a maze. He's all hard edges and darkness, sure, but there are these slivers of vulnerability, windows into something tortured and too damn familiar. A connection I can’t shake.
I've spent years building walls, damn high ones, but this man, in mere moments, threatens to tear them down. Goddammit. Why can't I expel him from my thoughts? Is it just lust? No, it can't be that simple. Jaden's not simple. He's a storm cloud with a silver lining I can't quite place, but for the first time in a long while, that lining looks a lot like hope.
My body aches, my mind's a whirlwind of emotions, but there’s no denying what I saw. That’s part of my curse—once I see something, I can’t unsee it. Jaden, this dangerous man, just risked everything to save me. How is that even possible? Why would he do it? I can't wrap my head around the idea of someone, anyone, going to such lengths for me.
But then again, there's something different about Jaden. He exudes power and darkness, but I've glimpsed moments of vulnerability in his eyes—flashes of torment that mirror my own. It's as if we share a connection, a bond forged in the depths of our darkest secrets.
I don't know what it is about him that pulls me in, why I can't get him out of my mind. I'm terrified of the intensity of my emotions when it comes to him. I've always been cautious, kept my walls high and my heart protected, but with Jaden, it's as if all my defenses crumble with a single glance.
Maybe it’s just lust. I want to hate him for what he does, for the darkness surrounding him, but I can't deny how he makes me feel alive like I'm more than just a victim of my past. He ignites something in me, a flicker of hope in the shadows of despair.
As I slump against the cold gurney, I wrestle with the chaos in my head—Jaden, the drugs, this sense of being tethered to him. Fucking hell, my brain's a mess. My eyelids turn to lead, and finally, I let sleep claim me.
It's unclear how much time has bled away when I jolt awake. I still feel like shit, my body fighting against the remnants of whatever’s been pumped into me. I shake my head, trying to air out the cobwebs to reel in the string of events.
And yet, it's Jaden's face that's stuck in my head. The way he tore into those guys, his eyes like twin embers of a burning fire. He's a mysterious riddle, and for some goddamn reason, I can't shake the feeling that he's as fucked up as I am . . . despite appearances.
The logical part of me screams that this is a red flag. Danger. But fuck it, something about him reels me in like a magnet. He's a puzzle I want to solve, a maze I'm tempted to wander.
I should be on my guard. This pull, this spark between us—it's like playing with fire. I don’t even like the guy, and he’s the enemy. Yet, here I am, wondering if he’s got a way out of my mental mess. Hell, even the absurd notion of love flickers at the edges of my thoughts.
"No one will ever love you. You're a waste of space." ES's voice pierces through my jumbled thoughts. I'm torn between the dregs of the drugs still in my system and the torrent of emotions threatening to drown me. About Summer. About the whole fucked-up reality I'm in. And through the haze, Jaden’s kill hangs heavy—raising more questions than answers.
As sleep creeps up on me again, that unsettling thought refuses to fade: Jaden killed someone. For me. Is he my savior or just another twisted turn on this fucked-up path I'm on? One thing’s for sure, our lives are knotted together now, whether by fate or some fucked-up design. And as I drift off, one thought rattles in my head like a damn echo: he killed for me. For me.
* * *
Jolted awake, the warmth on my arm yanks me back to here and now. Where the hell am I? Memory floods back as I recognize the couch in Jaden’s Batcave. The couch is like lying on a cloud—if clouds were made of kickass leather. It's dark and mysterious in here, kinda sexy but also kind of "watch your back."
I snap my focus back and there's Jaden, this huge guy just hovering over me. His eyes are like an X-ray, but now there's this new layer, almost like he's eyeing a prize. What're you thinking, Jaden?
Okay, Rayne, reel it in. Don't show him the tornado of crap swirling in your head. He can't know how much he's messing with me. That's locked up tight inside.
"You're shivering,” he says, and the concern lining those works triggers a massive flight response. I spring off the too-comfortable couch, then almost double over from the pain. Shit. With a slow exhale, I straighten, refusing to show weakness. I've had my share of crappy guys in my life; I'm not lining up for more. Especially not from a guy who's killed for me. Could kill me. God, I can't even unpack that shit right now.
He stays put, looking like he can't decide if I'm insane or just unpredictable. I've got him on his toes, good. He's still a wildcard to me, and handing out my trust? Not on today’s menu.
"I'm fine," I snap, keeping the words short and sharp as I put some distance between us. Like drawing a line in the sand.
He throws me for another look—almost hurt, not angry. "What did you think I was going to do to you?" His voice is cold as ice and twice as cutting.
Whoa there. Nobody ever gives a damn about how I feel. "Nothing." I avoid his eyes like they're traps. "Just lost myself for a sec."
Then comes this heavy pause, like he's seeing stuff in me I didn't think was showing. "Rayne, one rule. Don't lie to me. You can say you don’t want to talk. Say it's none of my business. But don't lie."
His words hit a raw nerve, can't help but make it quiver. “I thought you'd hit me. It's a learned response." My voice carries the shakiness I fail to hide.
Now the air's thick between us, like we're wrapped up in some complex puzzle neither of us can just walk away from. There's this electricity, this tie that's more confusing and tangled than this freaky room . . . or us.
He looks relieved, like he was afraid of something. "I'll take that as an apology. That’s a natural reaction.” His voice sounds weary. “You have my word. I will never intentionally hurt you. I repeat—you have my word. Now, I need to take a look at that shoulder." He walks away, heading into the other room.
The problem is, I believe him despite every logical brain cell giving me several hundred thousand reasons not to trust him. I sit back on the couch, my mind spinning with conflicting emotions. Part of me wants to trust him and believe that he won't hurt me like others. But another part of me fears getting close to someone again and letting my guard down. But there's something pulling me toward him, something I can't explain. It's like we're connected in some weird way, like he understands me in a way no one else does. And I can't help but shake the sense he's hurting too, if he's trying to keep his own demons at bay. My gut also screams that he’s way more damaged than I am, but that’s simply not logical.
