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Slapping the letter that’s still grasped in my hand against his chest, I snap, "Read the letter, Wilder. It might give you the closure you’re looking for. And when you’re finally ready to accept this,"—I point my finger back and forth between us—"I’ll be here. I’m not fucking leaving. Not of my own accord and not because you think you can scare me off."
Storming out of his room, I stomp down the stairs in search of Kai and Hawk, which had been my initial mission before I got sidetracked as I passed by Wilder’s bedroom. I hadn’t seen him all day, and after last night, I wanted to check on him.
I feel like something fundamentally changed between us last night, though I needed to know if I was the only one who felt that way. Of course, today’s run-in has only left me more confused. Wilder is still fighting. He still refuses to give in, but I feel like he’s close to breaking. However, I get the distinct impression that when he finally cracks, it’s going to be explosive. We’ll both be shredded in the resulting blast, and in the aftermath, when we’re left to gather the remaining pieces of ourselves off the floor, it will be impossible to distinguish the parts that belong to him.
When I put myself back together, I’ll forever be embedded with fragments of Wilder. And him, me. For the rest of our lives, we’ll be intertwined. Connected. Linked together in the most primitive of ways. And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
I want to feel his brand of crazy pumping through my veins. I want to absorb every ounce of his pain and swallow down every bit of his anger. Most importantly, I want to know the man hiding underneath it all. The man I caught a glimpse of back at Pac. The man who is both ruthless and unfailingly loyal. The man who cares deeply for the select few people he allows into his life. The man who completely altered the course of my existence. Who demolished every notion of what I thought I wanted for my life and instead made me desire all the things I shouldn’t. Made me want to reach for more.
If Wilder hadn’t pushed me; if he hadn’t invaded my heart, mind, and soul so thoroughly, I’d probably be engaged to Richard right now. And I’d be happy, in an abstract sort of way. But I would never have experienced the all-consuming passion that comes from loving Hawk. Or the heated tension that crackles in the air when I’m around Wilder. Or even the peaceful, quiet, yet no less potent, affection Kai elicits.
The complication that is my relationship with Wilder gets put on the back burner as I reach the bottom of the stairs and hear Kai and Hawk’s hushed whispers coming from the kitchen.
I creep closer, keeping my steps light as their voices become more distinct and I can make out what they’re saying.
"Dude, you look like shit. You need to stop letting her get to you," Hawk chastises. His words have me frowning. Let who get to Kai? Me?
"You know it’s not that simple," Kai grumbles, sounding simultaneously pissed off and exhausted. "Now that it’s open, I can’t just pop the lid back on that box."
I hear someone sigh before Hawk says in a softer tone, “I know, man.”
Thoroughly confused and worried I’ll overhear something I shouldn’t, I push open the door into the kitchen.
Both men turn to face me, but it’s Kai who immediately snags my attention. "Kai," I gasp. My eyes roam over his face as I stride toward him. His hair is disheveled, his clothing rumpled, and his bloodshot eyes make it clear he’s barely slept all week. "What’s wrong?"
The Kai seated before me right now looks nothing like the man who took charge in my apartment and who diligently worked day and night to track down Mel.
I hate that he was there for me when I needed him, yet he won’t let me return the favor. I might not be able to help in the same way he can, but I wish he could talk to me. He listened to me divulge my entire history and pour out my heart regarding my complicated past and ongoing feelings for Hawk and Wilder, all without passing judgment. He was the sounding board I needed when I had no one else to confide in—the steady pillar in a chaotic storm of upheaval. I can be all of that for him, too, if he’d only let me in.
My fingers reach out to brush his cheek, but before they can feel the warmth of his skin beneath them, he pushes out of his chair and backs away. Masking my hurt with a frown, I glance toward Hawk in search of answers.
Completely useless, he just shrugs and gives a slight shake of his head, silently telling me to drop it. Fuck that. Something is seriously wrong with Kai. If the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t let me bottle it all up until I exploded—which is very clearly what will happen to Kai if no one intervenes.
With hands on my hips and brows furrowed, I shoot glances back and forth between the two of them. Of course, the primary suspect for Kai’s foul mood and lack of sleep is most likely Mel. It would also explain why he’s so adamant about not talking to me about it and why he’s reinforced those walls he’s built with concrete.
Fixing him in my gaze, I demand, “What did she do now?”
He blanches as though I slapped him across the face, then his expression shutters, and I know I’ve hit the nail on the head.
“Nothing,” he blurts. “You don’t need to concern yourself with it.”
So not nothing, then.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I cock a brow and stare him down, determined that neither of us is walking away until I have some answers.
“You should just tell her, man,” Hawk interjects. “She’s like a dog with a bone when she gets like this. She won’t leave it alone until she has all the information.”
Kai snaps his gaze to Hawk, glowering at him while he presses his lips firmly together, as though attempting to stop the words from slipping out.
"Did she send another letter?" I speculate when it is apparent he’s not going to freely tell me. "Or a gift?" My brows lower, my tone growing dangerous as I ask, "Did she threaten you?"
“Not quite,” Kai reluctantly admits.
"Okay.” I don’t quite understand what he means by that. “Well, as long as she didn’t send any more body parts or kill anyone else, then we can deal with the rest."
As the seconds tick by, Kai continues to stare at me, his features attempting to say something that his mouth won’t put to words. It takes a moment before understanding dawns. "She threatened me."
His lips flatten, still not answering me.
