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“Dad, I miss you so much.” My swallow is thick, my sorrow heavy. But Ihaveto keep this illusion alive. Because he and I, we weren’t close. We never were a happy family, despite the bright spark that was my sister. The song ends, and I force myself to stop my murmuring. I’m exhausted. I grab the can of soda and leave my bedroom for a shower. Mom’s still sitting in the kitchen, a shape shrouded in smoke, as she watches her eternal series, while I make my way into the bathroom.
ChapterFive
PHOENIX
Under the flickering light of our crumbling bathroom, I take the quickest, and most thorough of showers, then hurry to dress myself back into a pair of sweats and a hoodie. My savings on heating costs make it freaking chilly inside the apartment. The bathroom mirror is cruel as it unwantedly captures my reflection—the pale skin, the tips of my damp curls as they practically touch my neck, and those large, dark eyes. I don’t look my twenty-two years. Nah, I look ageless, sad and lonely.
I should go to sleep, but knowing myself, I’ll probably end up drawing until the sun rises. Anything to put my troubled mind to rest, to forgive myself for the merciless death I’d nearly been guilty of.Murder.
With an annoyed huff I take a sip from my Coke, then start brushing my unruly hair. When the comb gets stuck in stubborn tangles, I pull at it viciously, freeing it with a sneer that causes a burning ache in the corner of my eyes. Fuck, I hate my hair. I hate this life.
Through my wet stare, the comb in my palm transforms into the remote control, and I relive the feeling of dread swirling through my veins earlier, like some thick, black liquid.Venom. I drop the comb with a startle, then cup my face with both hands, and sob. Fresh tears wet my clammy skin, trickle down between my fingers and run along my forearms, where they vanish into the crook of my elbow like the little cowards they are.
Betrayal. Because I am a thief. A thief of love and life. A thug who doesn’t deserve to be cherished. The traitors have made a traitor out of me. My body convulses in its attempt to emit the vast waves of sorrow and regret. Of anger, so much fucking anger. With myself, with the world. But I won’t be defeated. I decide on taking another cold shower, since my face is hot and wet, and turn to the cold stream. Barely ten minutes later, I feel a little lighter. By the sound of it, Mom’s still in the kitchen, sitting at that round table with her drink and her cigarette, the television in tune with her soft mumbles. What would she be thinking of?
“Night, Mom.” I don’t wait for the reply, instead I creep inside my room, and turn the lock with my key. Vanilla and twilight. Pencils and paper. Computer and research. And music, soft and melodic, sad and nostalgic.
Etta James’s “I’d rather go blind”plays wistfully through the loneliness, the breeze coming through the open window gently tugging at the drawing paper that’s laying on my desk. Even nature wants me to draw, I smile gloomily, before my eyes dart back to the window. Didn’t I close it when I came in earlier?
“Turn the light on.” The sound of a metallic click resonates sharply, answering my unspoken question as the hair on the back of my neck rises instantly.
“Oh my God.” The words tumble from my lips in a breathy puff. It’shim. His low rumble makes my body shudder, instantly creaking under the sensation of trepidation.
“God’s not here, baby mouse. Not after what you tried today.” Clothes rustle across the candlelit room, the sight of him enough for my breath to catch in my throat. Kai’s black hair is crazy and his eyes dance, flame-like. We watch each other through the dimness for two, three seconds, before reality kicks in. Spinning on my heel, my fingers scrabble at the door in a sudden, yet blinding panic, in search for the key. I find it, but it—
“Fuck.” It slips through my trembling fingers and falls to the floor. Sliding down onto my knees, my fingers blindly search around, the discarded can of Coke left in a corner. I claw it between my digits, but when I get back up, my bedside light is switched on, bathing us in familiar light. What’s definitelynotfamiliar, is the dark shadow sprawled on my bed, the smirk on his gorgeous face and the gun pointed toward the door. Towardme.
Kai’s smile grows, his predatory once-over has me burning on the inside. “There, better. Now I can see you. And trust me, I want to know every single move you make, since it’s the third time you’ve tried to slither your way out of my hold.” Purposefully trying to ignore him, I turn my back on him and focus on the door, once more fumbling with the lock. He tuts when I nearly manage to get the key inside, only to have it fall back onto the floor. Again.
“Goddamnit,” I whisper-hiss.
“Leave it there.” I look over my shoulder and see him sweeping himself off of my bed in one, smooth movement, the gun solidly pointed toward my forehead. He takes his time, but warmth on my skin announces his approach, and goosebumps scatter freely on the sensitive dip of my neck. He only halts when his firm, solid chest is practically touching my back, and this time my shiver is caused by something else. Something entirely unfamiliar, something very unwelcome.
His scent creeps up inside my nose—lemon-grass and cedarwood in combination with something darker, spicier—and his body radiates heat when his arm brushes past mine. I squint my eyes at the sudden touch, half expecting him to tackle me down from behind without a warning, but he doesn’t. The leather of his jacket creaks as Kai plants a hand against the door and takes another step forward, pinning me between the locked exit and his frame.
“You little, treacherous, killer bee. Meeting with someone in the park, right?” A low, soft exhale brushes past my earshell. My heart hammers inside my chest, tripping over itself when he lightly presses the gun against the small of my back.
“F—fuck off.”
“Yeah,” is all he rasps as he lets the gun travel south, over the slope of my ass. I grind my teeth when blood starts flooding south, and the startling realization that I’m getting turned on by Kai’s touch (when he’s most probably here to kill me) makes my cheeks heat with shame. “It sure looks like it, doesn’t it, baby mouse?” He pinches my earlobe between his thumb and finger, tugging on it gently. “You know,youare in a whole lotta trouble.” His soft drawl might sound unbothered, unharmed, but I know the fury Kai keeps at bay. He’s a hothead, and I’ve experienced him unleash it back in France, during the storm. When he came after me on a howl, chasing me through the forest until I finally managed to climb a tree to hide in the wet darkness, shivering and cold, and terrified. I waited there until the sun came up. Frozen to the core, and with trembling limbs, I finally made my way back to the ship. “You know what we do to people like you, don’t you?”
I find myself nodding, eyes staring blankly at the door. Despite his motivation for being here, there’s something mesmerizing about having him in my space. No one ever comes into my room… Though there’s nothing sweet about the real version, nor the fact that he found his way inside this apartment. Still, he’s here now, in my safe haven, and that makes me feel both hot and cold. I hate it.
“How do you know where I live?” I try to swallow my apprehension, but it’s lodged in my throat, choking me. The Doors play “Light my fire”, but my mind’s perturbed, my body cold and stiff, except for that one, hot, treacherous part between my legs.
“I know a lot about you, baby mouse.” Swallowing my nerves, I turn over my shoulder and try to pin him with my glare.
“You're wrong." Kai’s brows rise in fake mockery and my gaze stutters when he presses a finger to his pouting lips, pretending to consider my statement.
“Then why won’t you tell me what I need to know?" He cups the back of my head and guides my face toward the door. “And then I’ll decide on what to do with you.” Eying the dark, wooden door that’s barely an inch in front of me, I nod. “Good boy. Now, All Saints want us dead, and lemme guess, they paid you a pretty sum to just press that fucking button.” When I don’t answer, he laughs bitterly. “That’s what I thought. Those motherfuckers want out of the deal and they’ve been bitching about it ever since we shook hands in the first place. So they sent their baby mouse on a boat to France. And when that turned out differently than expected, they sent you on a death mission. How am I doing?”
“It’s not—” The rest of my words are muffled, as Kai instantly jams my left cheek flat against the door. Leather cracks as he cups the back of my head, gluing me to the cool wood, helpless in his strong grip. This mixture, fear and something embarrassingly close to desire makes my breath come out in quick, shallow puffs.
“Now, baby mouse, this is going to hurt if you don’t tell me what I need to hear.” To prove his point, he slams my face deeper against the door. My neck feels tight as he keeps me there, skin heating from ache and humiliation—two, three, four seconds—before he pulls me back. My chest is heaving when I pant.
“I didn’t want to—” I wheeze, but he tuts, and then I yelp, because with a bang, my forehead lands back against the door. It’s short and sharp, before he manhandles my head backward against the curve of his collarbone. I gasp at the sudden motion, but the next thing I know he has curled his neck around my shoulder, dark eyes boring into mine. Oh, shit. This is the same version of the man I collided with in France—fierce, strong, and unyielding. It didn’t take long for his fury to be unleashed.
“How much did they pay you to take us out?” His dark eyes have flecks of gold. I shouldn’t be looking at that, shouldn’t see the way his nostrils flare when he catches me watching. It’s confusing and makes my head swim. “How much?” His lips whisper over mine.
