Page 109 of Lucky 14

I don’t move, and he watches me, body casual but eyes keen.

I wonder if he wants me to get something, and sitting here feels awkward, but somehow rummaging in his house feels just as, if not more, awkward. Kyan is just silent, like we’re at the beginning of a therapy session that no one wants to be at.

I realize I’ve been in an uncomfortable position like this before. I mean, I have, and I haven’t. This might be the only useful skill my old life has taught me. My life never hung in the balance before, though.

“So,” I say. “This place is nice.” I start off neutral. Nothing crazy, just a statement to see how receptive Kyan is to talking to me.

Kyan just smiles a lazy smile. “You think this is nice?”

I shrug. “Feels homey.” That’s not a lie. The rain is pounding on the roof, and there’s something nice about having a couch, carpet, and a kitchen close that I’ve taken for granted. Plus, it’s important to start off by telling the truth so he trusts me.

“It was supposed to be temporary. I don’t use it often.” Kyan pulls something out of his pocket. It’s a vape. Not the one from the villa, but smaller and sleeker. He takes a hit, blowing the vapor to the ceiling. Watching me watch him, he offers it to me, eyebrow raised.

He’s offering me a hit? Is this a test? Or a show of camaraderie?

I put on the same smile I give to clients who offer me gifts. “I don’t vape.”

Kyan takes it back with a chuckle, taking another hit and staring at the ceiling. “Good. It’s not good for you.”

Being kidnapped, tied up, and asked to perform sexual acts isn’t good for you either. But maybe he doesn’t see it that way? Or doesn’t know how we got here.

The alters must not talk to each other. The confusion and complete one-eighty in behavior seems to prove that.

I need to gain some rapport with him. People usually like talking about themselves. I wonder if I can get him talking without it feeling like an interrogation. Kyan seems much more playful. Maybe he likes it returned.

“Do as I say, not as I do?” I put on a teasing tone, waving at the vape.

Kyan raises one hand in the air, then drops it back down on his chest. “Absolutely. Or do as I do.” He shrugs. “Or do who I do.” He doesn’t look at me, but there’s a smirk on his face.

My cheeks burn. He’s totally talking about Oakley. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have fought harder. But that look in Oakley’s eye…

“Mousey likes you.” Kyan says it like a fact. Casually, like he just said the sky is blue. But it makes my face heat, and I’m not sure why. Kyan starts tossing his vape up in the air.

Danger. We should not be in this territory. We need to be talking about Oakley or me. Or us together.

“It’s important to you what he likes.” I redirect the conversation.

Kyan seems to pause for a second, then goes back to tossing. “Yes.” The word is simple, but carries the weight of conviction.

“Tell me more about how you met?” I ask. Mostly to keep him talking, but also because there’s a tiny bit of curiosity.

“Found him wandering the halls. He needed help. So I gave it to him.” Kyan’s tone is suggestive, and my face heats at what he’s implying.

“He’s caught you, too, in the same trap.” Up, down, up, down goes the vape.

I stiffen. He’s saying I’m with Oakley. Isn’t that what I want him to believe? To appease Kyan? Maybe fulfill some sort of sexual fantasy?

I clear my throat. “Everyone gets a crush now and again.” It’s a non-answer. My favorite kind.

Kyan snorts. “Sure. But we all know Oakley is something special.”

Oakley is, in my clinical opinion, a very wounded person. I can’t lie and say there isn’t a draw to that. To him. I’ve always wanted to help wounded people. And the way that he’s willing to put everything on the line for me is…confusing to say the least. Confusion isn’t the only emotion I’m feeling.

“When did you notice that special thing about him?” I ask to fill the space. Inside, I’m scrambling.

“Right away. It’s something in the eyes, man. The eyes don’t lie.” Kyan flashes me a look, and it’s playful, but there’s a flash of something I can’t catch. “Who are you, Holli?” His voice changes a bit. Gets a little darker. A little more menacing.

The question makes me freeze, and my heart races. I evaluate Kyan for any changes in behavior, but he just stares at me with those dark eyes.