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He reaches out and grabs my arm and I clench my jaw.
“Enough of the bullshit, Echo.”
“Then tell me whyyou’reworking for them, considering you have such a low opinion?” I spit back.
“What the fuck are you really doing here, Echo? What are you doing with Neil?” My arm throbs under his grip. My eyes narrow and I move my body closer to his until we are only inches apart.
“Let. Me. Go.” I reply, never taking my eyes off his. The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he releases my arm. Darkness dances in his eyes and I have to resist the urge to rub my arm where he grabbed.
“Enough of the bullshit, Echo. I gave you my honesty; now, where’s yours?”
I clench my jaw.
“Your honesty? Bull fucking shit. Besides, I told you, I needed a job and did this shit when I was younger.”
He sighs.
“Enough, Echo,” he replies, his voice low and firm. I gotta admit, it does something to my lady parts. “I’m not going to turn you into Neil or the others, or I would have already. Tell me the truth.”
I open my mouth to let the lies flow but pause as I look into his eyes. There’s curiosity there, and yes, judgement, but something more. I’m no stranger to pain, and inside Killian’s eyes, that is all I see. A great deal of pain.
“What did they do to you?” I ask bluntly, and this time, he tenses. Apparently, that was the right question.
He is right, he could have turned me into them when he found me with Serg. Despite what happened, I do trust my instincts and I am rarely wrong about my impressions of people. I mentally shrug. Maybe I can tell him my story, without telling himmystory.
“As for me, Neil and his boys raped my best friend and left her for dead almost a decade ago.”
Killian lets out a choked sound, his eyes bugging out. I watch him carefully, taking note of all of his reactions.
“You aren't just saying that?” he rasps.
I frown. “Who would make up a story like that?”
“Fuck, sorry. You’re serious, aren’t you? Fuck!”
“Jesus, fuck, Killian. What’s going on?”
He sighs, bringing a hand up to rub his temple before turning back to me.
“Let’s just say, you aren’t the first.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” I snap.
He takes a moment to reply.
“You said ten years ago?” he asks, ignoring my question. I frown but nod.
“Yes, now tell me—”
“And you’re sure they don’t know who you are? That you knew this… friend?”
“No, like I said—”
He stands up, effectively interrupting me again as he runs his hands through his dark hair. It’s standing up at the top and I get the feeling it’s an action he repeats regularly.
“Fuck, can you tell me what the hell you are so worked up about? Seriously, what’s going on and who else did they fuck up?”
He stops pacing and turns to me, all the heartache in his eyes suddenly magnified as they look into mine.
