Leaving the box on the couch, I mist out of her house without waiting for her to open it. It’s not good enough; I know that. But hopefully, it’ll be enough for her to see that I think about her whenever we’re apart and give her a chance to realize I’m serious about us. About her. Because starting tomorrow?
I’m done holding back.
Chapter 29
Kiara
Rapid, hard knocking at the door has me rolling out of the nest, flopping onto the bathroom tile and grumbling as I get to my feet and check the time. It’s only been an hour since Vic left; just enough time to fall back asleep and be mad about being woken up again.
“So much for sleeping in on my day off.”
When I yank it open, fully prepared for another round of arguing with Havoc, I’m pleasantly surprised to see Stryker on my doorstep, one arm loaded down with grocery bags. “Morning, beautiful. Fuck, I missed you.” With his free hand, he palms the back of my neck and pulls me in for a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless and disoriented.
“Umm. Good morning?” I figured he’d be way more upset after the disaster last night, but if anything, he seems downright giddy.
He kicks the snow off his boots before coming in, shutting the door behind him as he heads for the kitchen. “Have you three had breakfast yet?”
“Just Z and me, and no. Devlin took off after I filled him in last night to blow off some steam.”
Mid-setting the bags on the kitchen counter, he pauses. “He left you here alone?” He turns to face me with a scowl I know isn’t directed at me. “He was supposed to stay the night. If I’d known he was going to bail, I wouldn’t have bothered packing my bags and would’ve headed straight here. You promised me when you left with your brother, or I never would have let you out of my sight.”
“I wasn’t alone, I had Zayd. Hence why he’s still asleep, he crashed hard after staying up all night on watch.”
That softens his agitation with a ghost of a soft smile. “You finally settled on a name, then?”
Excitement rushes back in like it happened mere seconds ago, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. “No, he told me himself!Andhe didn’t automatically tear Havoc’s head off when he showed up this morning.” Under my breath, I mumble, "Unfortunately.”
“Havoc?” he asks, and I exhale heavily, bringing him up to speed on all that drama.
Stryker runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “Got it, don’t let you out of my sight ever again. Good thing my schedule is wide open now.”
“What are you talking about?”
He unloads the bags and shrugs. “My father named Sebastian his successor, so I quit. I’m not working under that monster.”
My heart skips a beat, guilt twisting my stomach. “Gods, you must hate me. I’m so sorry, Stryker, I can’t believe he played me so easily. It’s my fault you lost everything.”
“Like hell it is. Sebastian’s a snake; no one could have guessed he’d go to such extremes to sabotage me.
“But you came to me for help, and all I’ve managed to do is make everything worse. If your powers were working at full capacity last night, then maybe-”
He silences me with a rough kiss. “Then it wouldn’t have changed a damn thing. This isn’t on you, Kiara. It’s not on me either. It’s on Sebastian for being a manipulative piece of shit that thinks people are nothing more than pawns for him to use whenever it suits him.”
I slump against him, soaking up his confidence. Stealing yet another thing from the man that’s given me everything without expecting anything in return.
“That said, don’t think I’ve forgotten you promised me an explanation,” he murmurs into my hair.
I stiffen automatically, hackles up. It takes a conscious effort to force my muscles to relax, to remind myself that Stryker isn’t like the people I grew up around. He isn’t going to praise my brother, then insult me in the same breath. He isn’t going to think I’m a drain on resources, or that it’s a good thing my parents aren’t alive to see what an embarrassment I am to the family name.
I take a few moments to brace myself before confessing everything. The backlash problem. How it’s gotten worse. How I’d secretly hoped that if I could figure out his problem, it’d be the answer to finding a cure for myself, too. But our problems aren’t the same, and instead, all I’ve done is get his hopes up and waste his time. Even though I was upfront when he hired me, I still feel like a failure. And that maybe it was the high-stress situation of last night, but it took a solid three minutes before the pain ebbed and my veins went back to normal. So it’s only a matter of time before the blowback reaches my heart and either cannibalizes my powers, or kills me.
When the silence stretches so long it’s painful, I risk pulling back to nervously gauge his reaction. Pretty sure my info dump short circuited his brain, his face stuck in a state of horrified incredulity. When he reboots? All the color comes back with a vengeance.
“You never even made a sound,” he says with unnerving calm, gaze roaming over my face, assessing. Searching for answers. “Every single session we had together you werehurting yourself, and you didn’t say a word. Not so much as a hiss.”
I frown. “What does that have to do with anything?”
His eyes flash. “You’re so used to suffering in silence, it’s second nature for you to just… accept it. Part of your daily routine, no big deal to sacrifice your own health for someone else’s. How long have people been taking advantage of your abilities that this isnormalfor you?”
