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Perhaps it is the same thing that drove him to work tirelessly in his search to identify Mel. Thatstilldrives him to uncover everything he can about her and work out how to stop her once and for all.
He opens his lips wanting to say more, except no words come out, and after a second he closes them and shakes his head. My eyes roam over his face, seeing past the dark rings and the tired lines surrounding his eyes. Sadness clings to him like drizzle on a damp day. A dark cloud of loss following him wherever he goes.
He moves to grab a flat, black box from the countertop that I hadn’t noticed him carrying when he walked in, holding it out to me. I glance up at him before taking it from his outstretched hand and lifting the lid. Nestled inside is a beautiful silver bracelet with little charms attached, and my finger brushes over one showing a stack of books.
“It’s beautiful,” I murmur, unable to look away.
“It has a tracker attached to it,” he explains.
For a moment, I simply run my eyes over the bracelet. There was absolutely no need for him to buy something this sentimental. It’s obvious he put some thought into it—picking charms that he knew I would like. I even notice an angel charm, and another one is a bird.
I smile when I spot one that looks like a waterfall, remembering our day out. This feels like a reminder of his promise to take me back there one day, and hope ignites that perhaps one day we’ll get over this distance he’s forcing between us and get back to that.
Remembering that I don’t actually need the bracelet anymore—even if I am reluctant to part with it—I close the lid, grimacing as I look up at him. “Uhh, yeah, that might not be necessary anymore.” He gives me a quizzical look, and I point to the back of my neck. “Wilder beat you to it.”
His eyes bounce back and forth between mine until the penny drops and they widen. “He implanted a tracker in you?!”
Setting his mug on the counter, he places a hand on my shoulder and turns me enough that he can get a good look at the back of my neck. His fingers run along the skin until he finds where the tracker is embedded.
I know he just told me we couldn’t be anything, but I still drink in every second his skin touches mine. I bottle up the sense of safety and protection I experience when he’s around, storing it away for safekeeping, though ready to uncork at a moment’s notice should I need it in the future when he’s no longer around. However, even the thought of him not being here brings unbidden tears to my eyes, and I have to blink them away before he notices.
“What the hell is wrong with him?” Kai growls in a low tone. I imagine that’s the question many psychiatrists have asked themselves. “Did you allow him to do this?”
I snort. “I don’t think anyoneallowsWilder to do anything. He does what he damn well pleases. Screw the consequences.”
He brushes his finger over the area where the rod is. “I can remove it for you.”
“No,” I blurt far too quickly. I bring my hand up as if to protect the implant, and I ease away from his touch. “That’s okay. It’s there now, so may as well keep it. Besides, Wilder made a good point that physical trackers like that”—I raise the box in my hand—“can be removed. And it might make Mel suspicious if she sees it and knows what it is.”
Kai nods his head, reaching out slowly—almost reluctantly—to take the box from my hand. “Only if you’re sure you’re okay with this?”
“I am,” I state emphatically. It’s true. I really am okay with it. I was taken by surprise by Wilder’s unexpected assault. Still, strangely, I feel reassured knowing that they can all find me if something happens, and unless Mel is poking around at the back of my neck or has some device to find trackers—does such a thing even exist?—then she’ll never know I have it.
* * *
After spendingthe day cuddled up with Hawk in the cinema room, I’m back on campus today. We’d all agreed that it was best if I got myself to and from the university. Mel will be watching vigilantly, and any sign that suggests I’m still turning to the guys for protection could be perceived as me denying Mel’s love or some such shit. I should probably sit in on an abnormal psych class. Although if Mel caught me doing that, she’d think I believed her insane—which is, of course, the truth. Even though it’s probably best that she doesn’t know that.
When I first step out of the cab, nerves threaten to send me diving head-first into the backseat and plead with the driver to take me anywhere but here, but I hold firm. It’s probably just my paranoia, but I swear I can feel Mel’s eyes on me as I make my way through campus to my classroom, and I keep darting glances into every dark nook and shadowy bush as I walk past.
If this is what it’s going to feel like every time I leave the house, I’m going to be exhausted by the end of the week. I know her watching me isn’t new. I bet she’s watched me make this journey from the parking lot to my classroom every day since I started here, yet somehow Kai’s presence was like a barrier, deflecting her scrutiny. Without him as a shield, I feel exposed, on display for her to gawk at like a zoo animal.
However, I refuse to let her scare me away. If this is where I’m planning to stay for the long term—which it is—then I need to hold my ground. Mel is nothing but a pestering fly. One Kai will soon zap out of existence, and then… Well, I have no idea what the hell happens then. Regardless,untilthen, I just need to stay strong, put on a believable show, and somehow keep my distance from the guys. Something Hawk and I have already failed at.
It’s one thing for us to go sneaking off in a dark corner of the house, but we have no idea how long this could go on for, and I know if my feelings for Hawk grow any deeper, Mel is going to read it all over my face and body language. Especially if I’m around him in public.
Daylight is blotted out as I step into Burney Hall, where the literature and journalism classes are held. As though triggered by the loss of light, my heart rate picks up, and I cast an anxious glance around the dark, wood-paneled hallway as if expecting to find Mel lurking in a dark corner.
Of course, she isn’t.
My anxiety only heightens the closer I get to my classroom, and by the time I’m standing outside the door, my hand is shaking. It takes all of my willpower not to turn around and run away.
Memories from the other day surface and attack. The loud crack of thunder as it cut off my lecture, the heavy pelt of rain against the windows as the wind howled outside. I should have known then that it was a sign from the gods that Mel was on the prowl. A blatant warning that I ignored.
Stupid, foolish me.
I jolt as, in my mind’s eye, the power cuts off, plunging me into darkness. My body is trembling as I recall the sharp sting of a needle breaking skin, the uncomfortable press of it slicing through muscle, and the pressure of an unknown substance filling my veins.
“Miss?”
