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course of the evening was distasteful, but they were otherwise unharmed. In a different situation, he might not have let them off so easy. He wondered how Livvie would have reacted to such a thing.

“Thank you,” Livvie muttered from the passenger seat.

“For what?” Caleb was still irritated.

“For saving my life. Even if you’re just going to put it in danger again,” she whispered.

Caleb had no response. It was exactly what he was going to do. Drive her to Tuxtepec, bring her to Rafiq, train her, sell her…lose her forever.

And kill Vladek. Don’t forget that part.

The thought didn’t assuage the guilt taking up residence inside him. His heart was heavy, his thoughts scrambled. Still, he couldn’t allow himself to show weakness. All the turmoil within him had to be hidden, from every one.

“You’re welcome, Kitten,” he scoffed. From the corner of his eye, he watched Kitten swipe at her eye and flick her tears toward the floor of the car. Ruining my life!

Things had been so much easier in the shower, easier when it was just the two of them and the outside world seemed irrelevant and beyond the reach of his thoughts. The world was in the car with them now and it was Kitten who seemed beyond reach.

After she’d made him feel more pleasure than he’d ever had – with a hand job, no less – he’d reveled in soaping her skin, watching intently as water sluiced over the taut peaks of her nipples, down the slopes of her tan belly and hips, and descending past the raven triangle between her thighs. He’d touched her there as well, sifted his fingers through her sparse hair until he felt her slippery flesh part under his fingers. It was like opening a flower, her petals pink and vibrant, shiny with dew and lust.

He’d knelt before her, worshipful. She’d opened for him, hungry, full of want. His every sense had been engaged and focused on her. He could smell her arousal, he could see the way her flesh darkened, and against his fingers he had felt her tremble, he had heard her soft whimpers. She had begged him to taste her. Slowly, he had licked her tiny bud.

Oh! How she had wanted him.

She’d spread wider and placed her fingers in his hair and pulled him closer.

“Beg me,” he’d whispered the words against her.

“Please, Caleb. Please, lick me.”

He’d obeyed. One long, wet, lick across her open petals.

She sobbed, “Again. Please. Again.”

“Say you want me to lick your pussy.”

She gripped his hair tighter, “Caleb!” she’d grated.

“Say it. I want to hear more filth from your mouth.”

She hesitated. Her hips rocked toward his mouth, but he’d do no more than kiss her with his lips.

“Please, Caleb. L-lick my…pussy.”

Nothing had ever turned him on more. He’d pushed her legs wide, cradling her thighs on his shoulders and pressed his face into her pussy. Lick her? He fucking devoured her.

Pain had no longer seemed to be an issue for her as she undulated and rocked her hips against his rapacious mouth. Her hands held his head, pushing him deeper, demanding more, even as he gave and gave.

When she’d come, her pussy had gripped his tongue. Wet, pulsing, flesh, fluttering against wet, pulsing, flesh. Her juices saturated his mouth, a rush of honey he not only swallowed, but sucked from her flesh long after she had begged him to stop.

But that had been then. This was now.

Caleb sighed heavily, frustrated by the turn of events. More bothersome than Kitten’s demeanor was the prospect of Rafiq’s impending visit. He had tried to call Rafiq earlier, while Kitten was getting dressed and combing her hair, but there had been no answer. Caleb could only assume Rafiq was either on his way or ignoring him. He hoped it was the latter. The last thing he needed after what was sure to be a very long and taxing car trip was a confrontation with Rafiq.

Their relationship was beyond complicated. Rafiq was many things to Caleb. At one time, his guardian. Later, a friend. Now? Rafiq called him brother. But Rafiq was also much more. Rafiq held a power and a sway over Caleb he’d never felt comfortable with. Caleb had been a difficult teenager. After Narweh, he was left with a lot of fear that had turned to anger. There had been times when they had argued and Caleb had seen things in Rafiq he wished never to see again.

Rafiq would stop at nothing to have his plans carried through. Everyone was expendable; anyone, collateral damage. If ever it came down to it, Rafiq would kill him, and therefore, Caleb had to be prepared to strike first. The truce lay in the fact neither of them would relish the task.

As Caleb made his way through the narrow roads, he spared a thought to think about what he would do if Rafiq were waiting for them in Tuxtepec. He gripped the wheel tighter. He knew. That was the problem. He knew exactly what would happen.

Prepare her.

“It’s going to take us all day and part of tomorrow to reach our destination.” He relaxed his grip on the wheel and leaned into the back of his seat. He had to stop being soft with her. He had to make her tough, make her hard, and he knew better than most how the coldness of reality would sober any wide-eyed hopeful. The first step had been telling her the truth about her future, but he had to push her further. He had to make her understand. There was no future for them. “I suggest you take the time and wrap your mind around the seriousness of your situation. I forgive you for running away, but only because fate has done a better job of punishing you than I could.” Caleb kept his eyes forward, refusing to acknowledge the heartbroken girl next to him. He didn’t have to see her to know how much his words hurt her. An echo of her pain seemed to reverberate through him. At least, that’s what he wanted to believe it was – an echo.

He recalled the press of her lips against his scars. She kisses my scars and I create new ones for her.

“You’re still going through with it?” Kitten’s tone was anguished, but also angry and determined.

He told himself over and over: She’s plotting her revenge already. She’ll never care for you. If he reminded himself enough, perhaps he could get the truth through his head. So, he repeated the words like a mantra. She’s playing you. She’s just bidding time until she can be rid of you.

“I never said otherwise, Kitten. I’ve broken no promises to you,” Caleb replied, his tone harsh and unyielding. He had to slam the door shut on everything between them. It was the only way to move forward and ensure her survival. It’s your survival, too.

Caleb expected her sobs at any moment. It was their dance: she fought him, he hurt her, and she cried…he felt like shit. Repeat. He was surprised to hear the steel in her voice when she snapped at him.

“You promised me if I did as you asked, I would always come out better for it. Do you still believe that, Caleb? Do you really think selling me into sexual slavery, will make me better?”

“It’s done,” he said.

“Fuck you,” she spat.

Anger surged and flared on the heels of his guilt. He had promised her, but not in the way she proposed. “I mean to teach you how to survive this. I have always intended to arm you with what you’ll need. In that way, yes,” he hissed. “I’ll keep my promise. But I’ve made other promises as well – to someone who has earned my loyalty.”

“Am I supposed to earn your loyalty, Caleb?” She sneered at him. “Why? What about my loyalty? What have you done to earn that?” Caleb clenched his jaw. “You’re worse than those bikers,” she spat, her body tense and coiling, ready to attack. “At least they knew they were monsters. You’re pathetic! You’re a monster who imagines he’s something else.”

Heat surged up Caleb’s spine and radiated down toward his fingers. He held the steering wheel in a white-knuckled grip. His first instinct was to hit her, to release the wheel, and slap her across the face, but what would it prove? Only that she was right, which of course, she was. Only a monster could do the things he’d done. Only a monster would have the instincts he had, and only a monster would feel indifferent

to his nature, or try to rationalize it.

“I know what I am,” he said, calmly. “I’ve always known.”

He gave her a quick up and down look. She slouched back in her seat, as though his gaze were venom.

“It’s you, who thinks otherwise,” Caleb said. He watched Kitten flinch. His words apparently hurt her feelings, but they were the truth. The truth stung them both. She had seen him as something else, something she deemed better. For a little while, he’d shared her imagination. He had never realized how much it meant to him, until it was no longer true. No one had ever seen him as someone capable of being more and he had just hurt the one person who did.

It was just as well. He wanted to return to the time before he had ever known she existed, a time when his life was black and white, and the gray didn’t matter. He ached for the simplicity of his life, free of moral quandaries, guilt, shame, overbearing lust, and the worst sin of all, longing. He wanted to go to bed at night and know exactly what to expect when he woke up. He wanted Kitten out of his life and out of his head.

The space inside the vehicle was silent, but loud and clear. Caleb was glad to stare out of the windshield as stretches of road disappeared under them, taking them thousands of kilometers from that shower, their confessions, and all the possibilities of what might have been between them.

After a while, they finally ventured onto paved city roads. Civilization surrounded them. Caleb didn’t miss the way Kitten sat up straighter in her seat, her head turned to view everything passing her window. She raised her uninjured arm and pressed her palm to the window.

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