My eyes snap back to his before I hold my hand up beside my head, my lips thinning. “Lookingdoesn’t involvetouching.”
His eyes flicker to the ring. “I can still look at you and make it feel like I’m touching you, little sister.”
Cold crawls down my spine. I take a step back, forcing air into my lungs. “Staythe fuckaway from me, Kaden.”
His head tilts tauntingly, his lips pouting slightly. “Aw, is that any way to welcome your big brother home?”
I turn back to the food I’m prepping, slicing into the chicken as I carve the fat off of it. That anger I’ve held for so long resurfaces, and I don’t hold my tongue. “You aren’t my brother. That title was revoked the day you chose your friends over this family.”
His hand slides along the counter until it rests beside mine. He steps behind me, making my breath falter as his other hand lands on the marble, successfully trapping me as his large body curls around mine, swallowing me whole. My pulse pounds in my neck as his exhale dances across my nape. If anyone were to turn around, they would see the very ghost of our past, caging me in.
“Good,“ Kaden growls low, making me gasp. “I never wanted to be just your brother. You’re learning.”
I swallow past the tightness in my throat, forcing my voice to flow steadily as rage builds. “Backoff.”
There’s a beat where he doesn’t move before he slowly withdraws from me. It’s a warning. One I’ve heard loud and clear.
Going back to preparing dinner is surreal, as if my hands aren’t my own as I watch them glide across the cutting board. I’m so trapped in my own head that I don’t realize I’m slicing too close to my finger until a sharp sting halts me and I hiss at the pain. I curl my bleeding finger inward, flicking on the sink as I let the water run over it.
“Jellybean,” Mom tuts from the other side of the island. “Do you need a Band-Aid?”
I blink past my haze, clearing my throat. “Um, yeah.”
“I’m on it,” Dylan says as he takes the stairs two at a time in a rush to get to the first aid kit in the guest bathroom.
“Kaden,” Dad says quietly. “Can you help Melody?”
My hands are still under the running water, everything rushing back to me as he skirts around the island with an easy gait. For being such an imposing man now, he moves with agility and stealth, his footsteps silent even with the massive boots covering his feet. He rips a paper towel off the roll, bringing it to me before shutting the water off and curling his big hand around my wrist.
Fire.
His touch burns.
He holds my hand up, examining the small cut that slices along the side of my finger. The blood is welling up again, threatening to drip as his eyes peer over at our parents. They’ve retreated to the living room, none the wiser of what’s going on in the kitchen.
“Don’t,“ I warn. I don’t know what I’m trying to stop him from doing, but I can’t let this go on.
He doesn’t listen as his eyes narrow, and he lifts my finger to his mouth. His tongue, now pierced with a silver ball in the middle, laves over my cut slowly, my blood streaking across his muscle as my eyes widen.
He just…
I yank my hand back, tucking it into my chest as Dylan makes his way back to the first floor with the kit in his hands. “Doctor Dylan is here, baby.” He smirks, oblivious to the intense staring match between Kaden and me.
I look away first, creating space between us as I offer my wounded finger to my fiancé, and he cleans the cut. He wraps a small bandage around my digit before lifting my knuckle to his lips and kissing it.
“All better,” he smiles.
My nerves are still present, buzzing through my being like a swarm of beetles as my face softens. “Thank you, hun.”
I tilt my chin up, kissing him deeply. In front of Kaden, whose glare is cutting into the side of my skull like a serrated knife. When we pull away, Dylan wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close as he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“I swear, dude…” Dylan mumbles, looking behind me. “You look so familiar. Do we know each other?”
My spine straightens, tension gripping me in a vice.
Don’t say anything.
Don’t say anything.
