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“Michael!” Mother Dearest reprimands. “Don’t say that!”
“Come on, babe, let’s go.” I drag Kayla out of there while she gazes back at Elsie.
“I’ll call you,” Elsie tells her.
“I love you,” she says to her friend as we exit the room.
Need to get the fuck out of here.
Just because Kayla is friends with Elsie doesn’t mean I need to be around my brothers. I’ll skip all the family events.My lips curl. Wouldn’t wanna get trigger-happy.
Time for me to move on.
I feel better anyway.
Even if my mother still breathes.
I have Kayla.
That’s all I’ll ever need from now on.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
KAYLA
THREE DAYS LATER
The last fewdays have been quiet. As quiet as a life like ours can be. I’ve been in his arms while he’s been in mine. We’ve left the hotel, and I’ve been staying in his house. Not officially moved in, but kinda getting there.
He wants me to live with him, but I don’t know if I’m ready to let go of my own place. Baby steps is where we are, and he’s okay with that.
Though he may not say it, I know he needs me after what transpired with his brothers.
It was exactly what I was afraid of. Them finding out and trying to kill him. So when he went to them, I called Elsie and told her everything. It was one way I could ensure that he’d be safe.
Elsie was with Fernanda at the time, who told her everything, and together, they called Iseult. Of course, once Nicolettefound out Raph was in the middle, she came too.
We figured if we all showed up, they wouldn’t want to put us in harm’s way. The only thing we worried about was whether we were too late. But luckily, we weren’t. Other than superficial wounds, they were all alive. With Iseult there, we knew she’d make them stop. She has that effect on people.
“Does your nose still hurt?” I ask, cupping his face while I lie on his chest, his fingers stroking up my bare spine.
“You need to stop worrying about me so much, little wolf. I’ve never been better.” His eyes glaze over as he raises his head and kisses the top of mine.
“You should talk about what happened. You need to talk to someone.”
“I’m fine.” His fingers continue to brush sensually.
“It helps to get it all out. To say how you feel without guilt.”
“Pretty sure if I told a shrink what I’m thinking, they’d have me arrested.”
I let out an exacerbated sigh. Propping myself on one elbow, I turn to him, chin on his chest. “You have to heal from this. You never got to talk to your brothers or your parents about what happened to you. Really talk. It will eat at you. Please, A. Do it for me. Talk to them.”
He shakes his head and stares at the ceiling. “Nothing good will come of it. It’s over now. I just have to forget them.”
My lips meet his ribs. “I’m afraid you’ll never get over it.”
He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at the ceiling while my heart simply breaks. He deserves to heal. To tell his side.
